"Oh, great," muttered Blake under his breath. "Just what I need."
A slender figure, lithe and graceful, swung tanned legs out of the sports car. Blake reluctantly went to the aid of a less agile passenger, who was trying to extricate herself from the deep bucket seat on the passenger side.
"It's Tandy," said Cara, almost to herself. "But who is that other woman?"
"Her mother," said Alec with an inscrutable smile as he turned to follow his friends. "Haven't you met her yet? She's the Princess."
Chapter 5
The Princess was one of the most outlandish women Cara had ever seen. Her hair, an improbable orange, was piled on top of her head in a jumble of curls, and here and there a frizzy strand had pulled loose, giving her a helter-skelter look. Her demeanor was imperious, however, as she looked down her skinny nose at Blake and wagged a bony finger.
"You naughty fellow," she rasped, observing the remnants of the crowd of demonstrators straggling toward the beach. "You had a party and didn't invite me."
"Actually, it was Alec," Blake informed her grimly.
"I shall have to speak to him. Tandy? Tandy! Where is Coco?"
"Right here, Mother," said Tandy, reaching into the car and gingerly removing a spidery tangle of arms and legs. The arms and legs disengaged and a small blinking furry face peered out.
"Come to Mama, dearest," crooned the Princess, holding out her skinny arms. The monkey leaped for the Princess, settled comfortably on her shoulder, and twined its miniature fingers in one of the frizzy wisps of hair.
Cara took in the scene in disbelief, but she soon realized that Blake and Tandy's attitude was matter-of-fact. Perhaps they were used to overbearing socialites toting monkeys, she thought, but she'd better stick to less outlandish company and get back to work.
She was edging toward the house, preparing to do a quick fade into the background, when Blake spoke to her. "Cara, would you please show the Princess and Tandy to the grand ballroom? They're here to make a few last-minute arrangements for the Animal Aid Society Ball." Then, obviously glad to wash his hands of the whole matter, he turned and walked swiftly away.
Tandy stared disconsolately after him, apparently annoyed at being consigned to accompany her mother. "Right this way," said Cara, abandoning all hope of a restful afternoon and deciding to grin and bear it. The Princess swept after her with Tandy reluctantly in tow. Neither of them spoke to her, and Cara led them inside the mansion where she opened wide the doors of the grand ballroom and stood aside for the Princess and Tandy to enter.
The sun sparkled on the many-prismed chandeliers, creating a lovely rainbow effect across the walls, floor, and ceiling. The Princess seemed totally unaware of the beauty of the ballroom, however, and immediately began to pace off the length of a receiving line.
"The line will end right here," she said decisively, marking a point on the parquet with her toe. "Of course, I will receive, and Blake and Alec. Then the president of the Animal Aid Society, and—"
"Alec says he won't come," Tandy interrupted with smug satisfaction. "He says he hates stuffy dances and dinners."
The Princess glared at her. "Nonsense. He'll come. He'll want to see you that evening. And besides, I won't get him the appointment with the governor if he doesn't."
"Blake will be here," said Tandy.
"Naturally. Blake wouldn't miss it. It will be a fine chance to get his picture in the Palm Beach Parade." The Princess turned toward the galleries. "Now the decorations. The florist has promised us green garlands with swags of yellow and white chrysanthemums every twelve feet. Does that sound attractive to you, dear?"
"Yes, Mother," said Tandy, inspecting her long fingernails in a show of boredom.
Coco chittered and changed position on the Princess's shoulder, and the Princess reached up to absent-mindedly scratch his chin. Then she paced off the distance for several tables and inspected the bandstand.
"I daresay it will turn out well. Balls at Xanadu usually do. Well. Shall we go, Tandy dear?" It was not a question but a command, and Tandy threw her mother a resentful glance before following her from the room.
At the front door the Princess, looking as if she'd been sucking on a sourball, turned and looked at Cara closely for the first time. "I suppose Blake has told you that you're expected to be at the ball. Eight o'clock sharp. You can help with the seating and things like that." With that startling pronouncement she swept down the driveway and telescoped herself into Tandy's car. "Really, Tandy dear, if you're going to drive me about, I insist that you drive the Bentley. These toy cars are all right for young people, but—"
"Wait a minute!" cried Cara, suddenly coming to life. "When is the ball?"
Cara had already been dismissed from her mind, and the Princess stared. "Why, Saturday, of course," she said distantly, and before Cara could say anything else, Tandy had shoved the car into gear and was bearing down on the accelerator. Coco's small head bobbed in the rear window as they drove away.
Saturday! Tomorrow?
Cara burst in on Blake in his office. He looked up, startled.
"The Princess says I'm to attend the Animal Aid Society Ball, and it's tomorrow night. Am I really supposed to be there?"
"Did I forget to mention it? Of course I want you there."
"I don't have anything to wear, and I won't know anyone," objected Cara. "I'd really prefer to stay in my room."
"Absolutely not," Blake said firmly. "Wear that pretty dress you wore last night, and find another hibiscus to tuck behind your ear. The effect was quite enchanting." His eyes rested on her warmly.
Cara sighed. "Oh, I don't want to wear the same gown. But I would like to see the ballroom in use; I'm sure it will be beautiful."
"Take tomorrow off, if you like," Blake said absent-mindedly, leafing through the papers on his desk. "Buy yourself another dress if you insist. And save me a dance or two, won't you?" Blake smiled at her in dismissal, and she returned his smile uncertainly before she left. To him a ball at Xanadu was a commonplace event—but to her it would be a once-in-a-lifetime occasion.
Cara threw open the closet doors in her bedroom and took stock of her wardrobe. Most of her clothes were suited for daytime wear. Clearly she would have to go shopping.
A glance at her watch told her it was too late to go out today, so it would have to wait until tomorrow. What kind of gown would she need? She decided to ask Ingrid.
Cara found Ingrid in the kitchen chopping vegetables. Rapidly she told her the situation.
Ingrid crinkled her eyes at Cara and surveyed her trim figure. "You, Cara, could wear anything and look beautiful," she said. "Not to worry."
"No flattery, now, Ingrid," insisted Cara. She picked up a chunk of carrot and munched reflectively. "If I were Tandy Rice-Tisdal, what would I wear?"
Ingrid rolled her eyes skyward. "Thank goodness, you're not," she said dryly. "However, you can expect the ladies to be elegantly dressed. Long gowns, to be sure, and jewels. Diamond tiaras, perhaps."
Cara looked downcast. "I have no jewels, and certainly no diamond tiara," she said slowly.
"You'll look lovely, no matter what you wear," Ingrid insisted with a comforting pat. "Go and find yourself a pretty dress, and your natural charm will see you through."
"You're not much help, Ingrid."
"I'm stating the truth. You'll hold your own among these people."
"Doubtful. I'll be way out of my element. But thanks for your advice."
As Cara turned to leave, Ingrid said, "Shall I serve your dinner on a tray in your room? Blake won't be coming down this evening. He's requested to eat early in his office."
Cara hesitated, trying to guess Alec's plans. Then she remembered the friends he had invited to his cabana after the demonstration. For a moment she felt a sharp stab of regret that she hadn't accepted his invitation to join them.
"I'll eat in my room, Ingrid," she said. "Unless—no, just bring me a tray." She caught a glimpse of Ingrid's knowing look and wondered how reveali
ng her hesitation had been. However, Ingrid was busying herself cutting tops off the celery, and she did not mention Alec.
* * *
After her solitary meal, Cara walked idly to the window and stood staring out at the ocean. Dusk had not yet fallen, and the tide was coming in, each wave lapping a little further up the sand. The beach was quiet, with no signs of a party at the cabana. Alec's guests must have gone home.
As Cara watched, Tandy's red Ferrari intruded on the peaceful scene, whipping into the driveway with a loud blare of the horn. The car squealed to a stop in front of the massive doorway, raising a cloud of dust that caused Cara to retreat behind the flimsy protection of the drapery.
"Blake! Bla-ake!" called Tandy, leaning out the car window.
Cara looked around, but Blake was nowhere in sight. She wondered if she should call down to Tandy and find out what she wanted, but she decided on silence, at least for the moment.
Tandy leaped from the car and hoisted herself on the fender. "Blake!" she called again, more impatiently this time.
Evidently the large door below had opened, because Tandy addressed Ingrid. "Ingrid, go tell Blake I'm here," she ordered. Then, impatiently, "No, I don't want to come in. Just tell him I'm here. Hurry up!" Tandy sat humming and leaning back on the car, revealing a long stretch of leg beneath a deep slit in her skirt and a décolletage that sank between her breasts in a low V.
Finally Cara heard Blake's surprised voice. "Tandy! What are you doing here?"
"I've come to take you to happy hour at the new club," said Tandy, tossing her hair to one side. "The Kennedys go there when they're in town. There's a great band, it's called Lost Dog. Let's go."
"I have work to do," Blake said curtly.
"Oh, come on, spoilsport. You need to have a little fun," Tandy retorted with a pout, sliding down from her perch on the fender. Cara saw Blake below, grinning down at Tandy. From where Cara stood, Tandy's neckline revealed everything.
Blake smiled at Tandy indulgently, as though she were a bothersome child who somehow had managed to be cute.
"Tandy, I'm working on figures that have to be finished this week. I don't have time—"
"Silly, what do you mean you don't have time? You used to have time for me, remember? Come on," she said enticingly, running her hand along Blake's neck and inside his collar. She moved closer. "Wouldn't you like to know what Mother told me about getting Alec an appointment with the governor to discuss Xanadu? I might be persuaded to tell you all about it."
Blake looked toward the house, then back at Tandy. His eyes narrowed for a moment. "Why would you want to tell me about that? I thought you were on Alec's side."
Tandy threw her head back and laughed. "Mostly I'm on Tandy's side. Now, are you coming or aren't you?"
"All right," Blake agreed, sounding as if he knew what he was getting into but didn't have a choice in the matter.
"You drive. Okay?"
Blake walked around the car and slid into the driver's seat. "We'll have to make it an early night. You know I can't keep up with you."
Tandy's brittle laugh floated upward as Blake started the engine. She put her hand possessively on Blake's arm as he reached for the gearshift. The gesture puzzled Cara more than ever.
Who was Tandy chasing, Alec or Blake? At first Cara had felt sure it was Alec, and she'd thought that Alec returned Tandy's interest, but his kisses had convinced Cara that he was not totally in love with Tandy.
And Blake—where did he fit into this puzzle? Was Tandy merely indulging in harmless flirting, or was her mood more serious? As Tandy had admitted, she was one of those designing people who took care of their own self-interests. Cara seethed with sudden anger at the thought of Tandy using Xanadu to further alienate the brothers. Tandy could, in the process, win either Alec or Blake while destroying Xanadu altogether.
The soothing sound of the sea came to her through the open window, calming Cara's outrage. It was still light enough for a swim if she hurried, and there was something steady and reassuring about the soft swish of the waves on the sand.
When she reached the beach she kicked off her shoes, reveling in the sand between her toes. The ocean gave no reminder of her ill-fated struggle with the riptide, and she waded confidently into the gentle surf.
The massaging action of the waves was relaxing and reminded her that she had indeed had a long, eventful day. She leaned back and let the salt water buoy her up, feeling the tension flow from her body. When the sun dipped below the towers of the mansion, she regretfully left the ocean and retrieved her wrap, slipping it easily over her head.
She was looking for her scattered sandals when she heard the voice by the cabana. "You'd better take care when you swim in the ocean," said Alec, and she whirled to see him standing beside the windbreak.
She attempted a light laugh. "How long have you been spying on me?" she asked.
"Not spying, watching. You need to know that there've been sharks sighted near here."
"Lately?"
Alec shrugged. "Only occasionally, but it's wise to be careful, especially since we know they're around. Watch for an angular fin sticking up out of the water, and if you see one, get out fast. I won't always be here to save you, you know."
"Must you keep throwing that up to me? You'll never let me live it down. I have the utmost concern for my own safety, and I won't let it happen again."
"It won't be a riptide next time," said Alec in a way that could only be interpreted as beguiling. "Could be sharks or jellyfish."
"Great. Something to look forward to." Cara spotted her sandal and leaned over to slip it on her foot.
"Or tar," Alec added helpfully.
There was a large blob of a sticky black substance on the sole of her foot. She rubbed at it in vain.
"That's from the ships that travel offshore. It washes ashore and fouls the beach. I have turpentine inside, and it's the only way to get it off. Come on into the cabana, and we'll see what we can do."
"I figured your friends would still be here or that you had gone out on the town." She almost added "like Blake and Tandy," but she bit her tongue before she could say it.
"Everyone's gone," he said, motioning her to follow him inside. She perched on one of the bar stools while he brought a can of turpentine and a rag.
"You're not fond of nightlife?" she asked, dabbing at the tar.
"Not very. I prefer talking to people, really getting to know them. It's hard to do that in a crowd."
Her foot was clean, and Alec replaced the turpentine in the closet. Cara stood and wandered toward the studio. The room was dark, and she wondered if she should turn on the light.
"Go ahead," said Alec from behind her.
She flipped the switch and looked around with interest. Several easels were covered, but one, located in the north light from the window, was not. Cara drew closer to look at the picture.
It was the beach in early morning, with the flame-colored sun low in the horizon. The glowing ball rose over a luminous sea rippling softly toward a rosy shore. Somehow the painting captured the magical feeling of the moment after sunrise. Cara stood speechless in admiration.
Alec had walked up beside her and stood watching for her reaction. She was so moved by the painting that it was a moment before she found her voice.
"Alec, this is beautiful. You really have a marvelous talent."
"I'm glad you think so."
"May I see the others?"
"They're in various stages," said Alec, lifting the cover on a nearby easel. It was another seascape, further from completion than the first, but done with the same sensitivity. "And there's this," said Alec, showing her another ocean scene, a night view.
Cara spotted other canvases stacked against the wall, and she tipped them forward to look at them. Alec lifted several and turned them around. They were also seascapes, each capturing a different mood of the changeable ocean.
"These are waiting to be framed," Alec explained. "I'm having a one-man show at a
local art gallery next month."
"I've been around good paintings all my life," murmured Cara, transfixed. "I can tell you that these are exceptional."
Alec grinned down at her. "You thought I was just playing at art, right?"
Cara colored. "You said it was your passion, but you didn't seem to want to talk about it."
Alec shrugged and said, "Painting is my life. I couldn't live without it. Everything else is incidental. Except Xanadu, of course."
Cara looked around the room in search of something. She didn't see what she was looking for. "Why, Alec," she chided, "you don't have a single painting of Xanadu."
"Somehow I feel too close to it to paint it. Or maybe I'm just not ready. When I do paint it, I want to capture the timelessness, the essence—" He broke off. "I don't want to get off on that track. I'd rather talk about something else."
But Cara refused to let the subject drop. "If anyone's to paint Xanadu, it should be you, because you love it so. And if it's to be torn down, all the more reason to begin painting it. Soon it may be too late, you know," she said gently.
"Did you have to remind me?" he said gruffly.
"Maybe I shouldn't have. I was speaking my mind because I felt comfortable enough with you to do that."
He eyed her with a keen look but didn't comment about what she'd said. "Right now I only paint seascapes," he told her, but his attitude seemed to have softened.
"There's no reason to limit yourself to those when you obviously have talent. Anyway, don't you ever paint people? Animals?"
He looked more relaxed now and willing to talk. "I'm most in tune with the beach at this point in my life, so I suppose that's why I like to paint it. People are difficult for me. I can capture the feeling of a landscape or a seascape. I can feel myself to be a part of the scene, dig down deep, and strike the heart of a place. With people, it's not so easy. You can't get to the heart of them."
"Oh, no, Alec," remonstrated Cara. "I'm sure that's not true. You just haven't tried."
The Beach Bachelors Boxset (Three Complete Contemporary Romance Novels in One) (The Beach Bachelors Series) Page 40
