'I had to go to another interview on Friday for that new job I'm trying for,' Heath told her. 'They've narrowed it down to a short list of four people now.'
'Why, that's marvellous,' Zara enthused. 'I'm sure you'll get it.'
'Thanks for the vote of confidence. But it will mean quite a few changes.' He gave her a rather troubled, speculative look. 'Do you like travelling, Zara? Abroad, I mean?'
'Yes, I suppose so. But I've only ever been to Europe on school trips and for holidays with my parents. I enjoyed those.'
'Have you ever thought about leaving home— working abroad?'
She shook her head in surprise. 'Why, no. Do you mean as an au pair, or something?'
'Sort of. It doesn't matter.' He shrugged dismissively. 'Come on, race you to the top of the hill.'
He beat her, of course, and had a handful of snow waiting to try and put down her neck when she finally caught him up. Zara shrieked and they had a wonderful game, tumbling and sliding in the snow, until they fell over together and Heath couldn't resist kissing her cold lips as he lay on top of her. 'Oh, Zara, Zara,' he said huskily. 'How I wish I'd met you before!'
But then he rolled off her and was making her run and slide down the hill again before she could ask him what he meant.
He was as reluctant to leave that weekend as Zara was to have him go. They clung together in the car outside her house on Sunday evening, not wanting to part.
'I'll phone you tomorrow,' Heath promised. 'And you'll come up to London on Wednesday?'
'Yes, of course. Oh, Heath!' She nestled close in his arms, wanting to hold him beside her for ever. He kissed her hungrily and almost had to push her out of the car, laughing ruefully as he did so.
'Lord, I don't want to leave you. But I must; I have to travel up to Manchester early tomorrow morning, and if I don't leave now I won't get any sleep at all.'
So they parted reluctantly and Zara had to face the dreary reality of getting her things together to start the new term the next day. She had never felt less like continuing her education. Somehow it all seemed superfluous now that she had met Heath. She was head over heels in love with him and realised that she had been from the moment she first saw him. She had often read of men falling in love at first sight and it seemed that it could happen to women too. It certainly had to her, and she fell even deeper in love with him with each passing day, her heart jumping crazily every time she saw him. And he treated her so well, admittedly having more money to spend than Christopher, but he was so attentive too, always helping her with her coat, opening the car door for her, and putting a protective hand under her elbow when they crossed the road. He treated her as if she was very special and made her feel admired and cherished. With Christopher, although she hadn't acknowledged it before, she had come to feel as if she were his possession, the way he always introduced her as 'my girl-friend' without even bothering to add her name.
She got into trouble when she went back to school because she had been supposed to work on a project during the holidays but hadn't had the time or the motivation to do it. And Christopher's mother had phoned several times to ask why she hadn't been round to enquire about him or even rung and asked. And then her own mother started asking her about Heath and told her she wanted to meet him. She also forbade Zara to go out with him during the week now that she was back at school and studying for her advanced exams in the summer. But Zara pointed out that she was eighteen and could do what she liked, which led to a row with both her parents.
Defying them, she went up to London to meet Heath on Wednesday, meeting him at the station as usual. There was an air of excitement about him, although he didn't say anything until they were seated in the Italian restaurant again and he ordered champagne to go with their meal.
'Champagne?' Zara's eyebrows rose. 'Are we celebrating?'
'We are indeed,' Heath answered with a big grin. 'I've been offered that new job.'
'Why, that's marvellous! I told you you'd get it, didn't I? Tell me all about it.'
'Later. I thought we might go round to my flat after we've eaten—listen to some music or something.'
Zara looked quickly into his face, her heart jumping crazily when she saw the warmth in his eyes. Her voice catching in her throat, she said, 'I'd like that.' Then she hastily lifted her glass. 'Here's to your new job. Congratulations.'
'Thanks, but I haven't accepted it yet. I have until the end of the month to decide.'
He went on to talk of other things during the meal, but the food was largely wasted as far as Zara was concerned; her stomach was so tight with anticipation that she could hardly eat a thing. Heath had never ! suggested going back to his flat before, and she longed to be alone with him but felt shy and a little afraid too, wondering what he intended. So far he had done | nothing more than kiss and caress her, but Zara had already begun to feel that that wasn't enough, his kisses aroused her sensuousness to such heights of desire that her body craved to be loved. Physically she was ready for fulfilment and emotionally she was very much in love.
It was cold outside and they ran to the car, Zara wearing her new high-heeled boots that had been a Christmas present from Denise and having to cling to Heath's arm so that she didn't slip on the icy pavement. They were both in a happy mood and laughed a lot during the short drive to Heath's flat in Knightsbridge, not far from Harrods. But when they reached it Zara grew shy again until Heath kissed her in laughing surprise. She forgot everything else then, everything but the joyous magic of being close to him, of feeling his lips warm and demanding against hers. As he kissed her, Heath unbuttoned her coat and slid it from her shoulders to the floor. His arms tightened around her and his shoulders hunched as his kiss deepened to passion. 'Zara,' he murmured against her neck. 'My darling girl!' Leading her over to a big leather chesterfield, he drew her down beside him and kissed her again before sighing and saying, 'Lord, I wish I'd met you a few months earlier.'
'Why? What do you mean?' Zara's eyes were half closed, her head on his shoulder.
'Because I want this new job very badly, it's the kind of opening I've been working for ever since I started in advertising. But it means…' His hands tightened on her shoulders and he held her a little away from him. 'It means that I'll have to leave England and go to America.'
'America!' Zara sat up and looked at him in consternation.
'Yes, I'm afraid so. To New York. That's why I wish that we'd met earlier.'
'Why? What difference would it have made?' She was staring at him, her heart frozen in fear.
'Well, if we'd known each other longer, if we were more sure of how we felt about each other, then I could ask you to come with me, but as it is we've known each other for such a short time that…'
'But I'm sure about how I feel about you,' Zara broke in impetuously. 'I—I'm in love with you—and I want to go with you. Oh, Heath, take me with you. Please! I—I couldn't bear it if you didn't.' There were tears of anxiety in her eyes and she was clutching him, almost shaking him in her eagerness.
'Zara, sweetheart!' Heath took hold of one of her hands and carried it to his lips. 'That's wonderful to hear, but how can you be so sure? I…'
'I am. I am!' she insisted. 'I love you very much.'
She gazed anxiously into his face, willing him to believe her, and he slowly lifted up a hand to caress her face, his eyes intent. 'You realise that we'd be living together?'
'Yes.' Her hands tightened. 'I want that.'
'Oh God, so do I!' Heath pulled her close and held her tightly, then kissed her with a fierce hunger that he hadn't shown before. 'What about your parents?' he asked. 'Will it be all right with them?'
Zara knew it would be far from all right with them, but she lied and said, 'Yes, don't worry about them. I'll—I'll talk to them.'
'Perhaps I ought to come and see them and…'
'No!' she said sharply. 'I'll deal with them—you don't have to see them.'
He frowned. 'But…'
But she put her lips against
his to kiss away his objections. 'When will we leave?' she asked at length.
'Towards the middle of February, I should think. I have to give a month's notice to my present employers but I have some holiday leave due to me so we could go earlier and spend the time finding somewhere to live.' He hugged her in exhilarated excitement. 'It's going to be fantastic! The new job—and you.' His eyes darkened with desire. 'Why don't you come up to London again this weekend ? Stay with me here so that we can spend the whole night together?' He smiled. 'And probably the whole day as well?'
Zara's heart jumped with excitement and longing. 'Oh, yes. Oh, yes, Heath, my darling!' And she went happily into his arms to seal the promise with a kiss of deep and heartfelt love.
Her parents, of course, were furious when she told them the next day, her father especially, and they ended up having a humdinger of a row. But Zara was quite adamant, obstinately refusing to listen to their arguments, saying that her mind was made up and she was going. Her heart was full of guilt, knowing the plans they had for her and knowing how much she was hurting and disappointing them, but this guilt only made her more bullishly obstinate in the false hope that it would shorten the rows and heartache.
'There's no way I'm going to let you go and live with some stranger,' her father declared furiously. 'Let alone leave the country.'
'You can't stop me! I'm eighteen and I'm going.'
It ended by her running upstairs in tears and locking herself in her bedroom. But it would be all right tomorrow. Tomorrow, Heath would phone and she would have the reassurance of his voice to know that she was right to persist in going with him.
He didn't ring. She never heard from him again. She tried to reach him, of course, tried frantically, but he had never got round to giving her his home address or telephone number, always having rung her, so there was no way that she could get in touch with him. Her only contact with him was the Howards, but when she rang and later went round to see them, Tony Howard was very evasive and said that he only knew Heath's business number, but then refused to give it to her or the name of his company. Zara begged and pleaded with him, and came the closest she had ever known to despair when he went on refusing. Desperate, Zara went up to London and tried to find his flat, walking the streets around Harrods all day long, but it had been dark that night and she just couldn't recognise his building, there were so many that looked alike. When she was at home she refused to go to school or go out for a week, and she sat by the phone the whole rime, hoping every time it rang that it was Heath.
It wasn't until over a month had gone by and she knew that Heath must have left for America that Zara admitted to herself the bitter truth, that he had just changed his mind and decided not to take her after all. By then her puppy fat had been worn away by anxiety and she had become withdrawn and brooding. She no longer refused to go back to school; although the thought of university had no attraction for her now and she began to hate her home, wishing herself away from her parents who were being over-kind and conciliatory towards her.
She could only think that Heath must have been frightened off by her keenness and telling him that she loved him, which made her feel cheap. She also felt spurned and rejected, her confidence shattered, unable to believe that Heath could be cruel enough to lift her to the heights of happy expectation only to drop her without a word. Without a note or a phone call. Nothing. He didn't even care about her that much.
Disappointment and despair changed to bitterness and hatred, and coincided with a weekend when Christopher came home from university and came round to see her. He knew nothing about Heath, and Zara turned to him as if he could save her from drowning. Here at least was someone who liked and cared for her, who wanted her and with whom there was absolutely no fear of rejection. He was twenty, only two years older, but no match for Zara, whose determination and resolve was now backed by even stronger emotions. By the end of that weekend she had persuaded him that she had kept away from him because she wanted to make up her mind about her future, and now she had, deciding that she definitely didn't want to continue her education and she intended to get a job. And it wasn't difficult to persuade him also into marrying her straight away so that she could help to keep him while he finished his education.
She had made the right appeal; Christopher liked the good things in life, but his mother was a widow and couldn't always provide what he wanted, so it would be useful to have a wife working for him as well. He agreed, and they were married in May, much against her parents' wishes. They begged her to take her exams, which she did, but she refused all their entreaties to her to go on to university and seemed utterly defeated when she insisted on marrying Christopher.
The marriage hadn't worked out, of course. It was doomed from the start. How could it be otherwise when she was still hopelessly in love with Heath and couldn't help but compare the two men all the time? She had tried to conceal it, tried hard, but after two years they had separated and divorced. A time of emotional hell for which she took the entire blame because she had married Christopher on the rebound.
Zara shuddered, determined not to think of that time. It was long over. Looking down at the pen in her hand, she saw that she was holding it like a dagger, and wished suddenly that she had Heath's broad back to plunge it into. That New Year's Eve seven years ago, when she had the misfortune to meet him, had ruined not only her life but also Christopher's for a while. Yes, she would very much like the opportunity to take her revenge on Heath Masterson for the hurt he had done her, because only by retribution could she strike him from her mind for ever.
CHAPTER TWO
The first meeting of the board of Webster & Layston for that year was called for ten-thirty in the morning on the following Monday. It was to be quite an important meeting to decide what form of promotion they should use to advertise the new range of sportswear that Zara had introduced. She had her own ideas, of course, she always had, but her team of fellow directors and managers were a young and lively group who often came up with ideas themselves, and she was always receptive.
At ten twenty-five Zara checked her appearance in the private cloakroom opening off her office. As usual she wore an outfit from their own range of extremely smart and fashionable clothes for executive women. This morning she had chosen a pale grey suit with a short box jacket and straight skirt, with a double- collared blouse in a soft emerald colour that exactly matched her eyes. With it she wore high-heeled black patent shoes and a wide matching belt that accentuated her very slender waist. Clothes were important, not only to Zara as a fashionable woman, but also for her image as the managing director and driving force behind the very successful and progressive company of Webster & Layston, known throughout the retail trade as Panache. Satisfied, Zara went back into the beautifully furnished and thickly carpeted room that looked more like a sitting-room than an office, picked up her briefcase containing all the relevant papers she needed and walked through into her secretary's much more functional office.
Her secretary was a man, a fact which most people seemed to find surprising, expecting her to be a feminist and to have nearly all women on her staff. But Zara had no sexual prejudices—as far as work was concerned—and always chose the best person for the job regardless of gender. Peter Mackenzie, whom everyone called Mac, was extremely good at his job and had proved extremely useful on more than one occasion, especially in the early days, when reps whose goods she had turned down had either turned nasty or tried to seduce her, mistakenly believing that her youth and looks would make her a pushover. Which she definitely wasn't!
Mac was ready, and after a brief word they walked down the corridor to the boardroom where the rest of the company's directors were waiting. They all stood up as Zara entered—men and women alike, which Zara hoped was a token of respect and friendship as well as good manners. She took her seat at the head of the long oak table, wished them a smiling good morning and got right down to business.
There were a few other items to be dealt with before the major it
em on the agenda: the promotion of the new range of 'Game, Set and Match' sportswear, but these were quickly dealt with and Zara looked over at her financial director. 'Harry, how much can we budget for the sportswear promotion? And for how long a period?'
'About a quarter of a million, I should think. But it will have to be carefully coordinated.'
'Of course.' Zara smiled around at them. 'It will have to be a team effort.'
They grinned or smiled back, all as keen and enthusiastic as she was. 'If we could open the new shop in Norwich to correspond with the advertising it might help,' someone suggested.
Zara nodded. 'Good idea.' She looked towards her marketing manager, Colin Royce. 'Have you got any ideas yet on which advertising agency to use?'
'Well, there's the company we used on our last promotion, of course. I know they'd be very keen to do it. And so would their biggest rivals. But there's a relatively new company that I think might come up with some very interesting ideas. It's called Masterads, and although it only started up about two years ago, has done some really eye-catching work.'
'All right,' Zara decided. 'Why don't you approach all three? Give them a month to come up with some basic ideas.'
They discussed the subject further, formulating their campaign, then broke for a buffet lunch which they ate in an adjoining room. Immediately after lunch Zara left for Rochester and Canterbury with the company's property manager to look at opportunities for opening new shops in those towns. The shops didn't bear the Webster & Layston name, of course, they came under the much more trendy name of Panache. The manager drove down while Zara sat in the back of the car and worked, dictating into a miniature cassette player or using the car-phone and by single-minded concentration managing to get a great deal done. Although she delegated to a large extent, Zara made sure she kept closely in touch with everything that happened in the company, and it was this attention to detail that had made her so successful.
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