by Lucy Gordon
'Lee, my darling…' he murmured at last. 'I want you so much…'
'Yes,' she whispered. 'Yes…'
At once he rose, lifting her off the sofa and cradling her against his chest. Despite her weight he almost; ran up the stairs and kicked open the bedroom door.
He undressed her slowly, touching her with reverent hands. In his arms she felt precious, valuable. How different from Jimmy's selfish lust, which had taught her to shrink from sex. But then she banished Jimmy. He had no place in the miracle that was happening now. Daniel's worshipful ardour enclosed her, shutting out all thoughts but him.
When they lay naked together he kissed her body all over. His movements were gentle but his arms about her were strong, as though he wouldn't risk her escaping. Even then she could sense the determined, possessive male behind the smooth exterior. A predator, she thought hazily, but a delightful predator- a tender, loving predator, such as every woman dreamed of but so few were lucky enough to find.
And then the moment came when she was one with him, and everything was perfect. She'd been half afraid that it would feel strange and unwelcome, that her own fear might cause the ultimate union to destroy the love that had been quietly growing between them. But now all fear fled away. How could it feel strange to love Daniel when he understood her so well and cared for her with such sensitivity? His concern was all for her.
She could feel the effort it cost him to leash back his own passion until she was ready, but he didn't fail her. She had a glorious sense of ease, of relaxing even in the midst of mounting excitement, and when the final moment came she yielded to it readily, knowing that this was right as nothing in her life had been right before. The cry she gave was not only of passion, but also of wonder and gratitude.
He held her for a long time, kissing her tenderly until her flesh had stopped quivering and some of her shattered sensations were restored to normal.
'Are you all right, darling?' he whispered.
'Perfectly all right-and so happy,' she said in a choking voice.
'I warned you, didn't I?' he said with his gentle, heart-stopping smile. 'I'm ruthless when it comes to getting what I want.' He ran his hand down until his fingers were caressing the satin skin of her flat stomach. 'Who knows?' he mused wistfully. 'I might already have you in my net?'
'No,' she said gently. 'Don't build up your hopes, Daniel. I'm not pregnant.'
'You can't really be sure of that.'
'Yes, I can. Completely sure.'
He pulled back a little and looked down at her appraisingly. 'I didn't really take you by surprise at all, did I?' he asked at last.
'Not a bit.'
'You came prepared?'
'That's right. I had a few last-minute qualms tonight, but I made my decision days ago.'
'Which means I'm not the wily seducer I was priding myself on being?'
"Fraid not!'
His fingers were still tracing a gentle path in circles that narrowed down as they neared the tops of her legs. His eyes were alight with self-mocking humour.
'To think of all the trouble I went to tonight-soft lights, sweet music. And all the time I was trying to lure you into my trap you were actually two steps ahead of me, wondering why I was taking so long.'
Lee joined in his laughter and shifted her position slightly so that his fingers naturally found their way home. She stretched luxuriously and slipped her arms round his neck before saying, 'Let's say I made my own choice. I'm here because it's where I want to be.'
'Ah…' His murmur was so soft that she had to strain to hear it. 'Your own choice-I'm so glad. Lee, my darling, I'm so very, very glad.'
CHAPTER SIX
The week that followed passed far too quickly for Lee. She moved in to Daniel's home and began to learn the kind of person he was. The years with Jimmy hadn't taught her that a man could be passionate and funny, fierce and tender, authoritative and humble. It was like being a girl again, in love for the first time, knowing that life would never be the same now this one man had drawn back the curtain on a new world.
They slept wrapped in each other's arms and Lee would awake with her head resting on his smooth brown chest. It was the sensation of warmth and safety that struck her first. Daniel's arms tight about her always made her feel as though nothing could go wrong with her world.
He delighted in getting up first and bringing her a cup of tea. He would hover while she sipped it, enquire, 'Is madam satisfied?' then hurry away to start the breakfast. Being waited on made her feel like a queen. Sonya had sometimes done so, on birthdays and Mother's Day, but as Sonya cooked with one eye on the stove and the other in a book the results weren't encouraging. Daniel gave all his loving attention to creating tempting dishes for his lady.
Although she had the week off, Lee kept in touch with Gillian, checking on the bookings that were coming in.
'Can't you forget work for five minutes?' Daniel complained. 'Relax.'
'I'll never relax until I get where I want to be,' Lee insisted.
'And where's that?'
'At the top. The very top. I get a lot of big commissions but I don't get the top rates, and I'm not first in the queue.' She sighed. 'I guess I'll just have to keep plugging away.'
'Plugging away isn't always the answer,' Daniel said thoughtfully.
'Then what is?'
'You need something extra to get your name known outside the circle of commissioning editors. If you were to win fifty million on the lottery everyone would queue up to have you take their pictures, just to say they'd met you.'
Lee chuckled. 'And why would I be taking pictures if I'd won fifty million?'
'Well, that's the flaw in the argument, of course, but you get the idea. You've got to make people want to say they've met you.'
'Fine. Any suggestions?'
'I'll work on it. But later.' He took her in his arms. 'Just now I have other ideas.'
She discovered that Daniel was a demon cook, with a well-stocked freezer and a library of recipes.
'Cooking for a growing child taught me some self-defence techniques,' he confessed. The trouble is, I became too good. Phoebe never bothered to learn. Why should she when her old man can do it for her?'
'Why should she anyway?' Lee asked impishly. 'Just because she's a girl?'
'Nonsense! If I can do it, she can do it. That's equality.' He struck an attitude. 'It's time men were liberated from the kitchen sink. Give us freedom! Value us for our brains.'
'Hang your brains! Give me your body,' Lee said, kissing him ruthlessly.
He put up a half-hearted struggle, protesting, 'That's all very well, but what happens when my hair falls out and my waistline expands?'
'Then I shall get me a toy-boy,' she said, silencing further argument.
Afterwards she was never able to remember details of that glorious time. They became a blur of days spent getting up late, picnicking at midnight, and discovering each other in endless passionate hours.
Some of Daniel's shows were being re-run on afternoon television. Lee watched them eagerly. She'd seen one or two before but not as many as she would have liked. As the programme went out during the day she had to tape it, and in the evening she was usually too occupied with the man himself to have time for his screen image.
Now she could study him, and realise what a consummate professional he was. He could work a crowd as skilfully as any showman, making it look easy.
'With so much happening, don't you ever lose track?' she asked one day. 'Or get nervous?'
'I used to. Then I discovered the secret was to have everything at my fingertips and always be in control.'
He was the reverse of conceited, judging his screen self ruthlessly. 'I lost it there,' he admitted. 'I shouldn't have let that woman go on so long-and here the argument got derailed and I didn't pull back fast enough.'
'You looked fine to me.'
'That's sweet of you, darling, but you don't know anything about it.' He wasn't being deliberately rude. He was just a profe
ssional fixing a laser gaze on his own work and refusing to be distracted. 'Fool!' he suddenly yelled at his screen self. 'I don't know why anyone employs you.'
'Do you normally shout abuse at yourself?' she asked laughing.
'Always.' He grinned self-consciously. 'I see so many things that could be improved.'
'But you can't be in control of every little detail.'
'You can try. There, thank heavens, it's over! We won't have to watch that idiot any more. Come on, woman. Baked beans on toast.'
There were moments of comedy too. Through tele-phone calls they were able to follow the progress of Mark's disastrous journey to Paris. He managed to get as far as the Dover ferry, but when the boat had crossed the water and docked at Calais the car refused to start. In the end it was ferried back and forth three times, with the shipping company growing increasingly irate.
Finally a tow was arranged on the French side of the water and the car was deposited in a Calais garage. There followed four days of mounting frustration and lively discussions with the mechanic, in the course of which Mark enriched his French vocabulary with a number of pungent phrases that were unlikely to be of use in academic circles.
He finally reached Paris the day before Phoebe was due to leave. Sensing what was coming, Daniel made a frantic call to Madame Bresson, begging her to ensure that Phoebe returned by air and not 'with that young maniac and his collection of welded safety pins'. After that the telephone lines hummed. Phoebe called her father to protest at his high-handedness. Daniel, who was terrified for his daughter's safety, responded by laying down the law in a manner that would have amazed his public.
The next day Phoebe flew home. In a terse scene Daniel further demolished his reputation in his daughter's eyes by flatly forbidding her to set foot in Mark's old car ever again. Phoebe set her chin stubbornly at this edict, but was deprived of the chance to defy it by the fact that Mark didn't get home for another three days, having broken down again at Dover.
Phoebe's return was the signal for Lee to depart. Daniel set out for the airport to meet his daughter while Lee drove home, a heavy ache in her heart. Daniel and Phoebe were going to spend a week with his family in the Midlands. Their parting had been a painful wrench that left her fighting back tears. She tried to tell herself that she was being absurd. She would see him again soon. But it wouldn't be the same as the blissful world where there had been only each other.
He called her that night and they had a long, loving talk. But when the call was over the house was very quiet and the sadness lay on her heart like a weight. The golden, enchanted time was over, and who could tell if she would ever know such happiness again?
It was a relief when the young people returned.
Mark could talk of nothing but his misfortunes, and Lee and Sonya had to hear the story several times.
'So you'll just have to get a decent car," Lee said sympathetically at last. 'That offer of three thousand pounds is still open.'
'Oh, hell, Lee! Why can't you be reasonable now and let me have the seven thousand?' he snapped. 'If I had a really good car it would impress Mr Raife no end.'
'Only if it was safe. And you can be just as safe on three thousand as you can on seven.'
'If it comes to that, you, can be perfectly safe in a one-thousand-pound car if you choose it properly,' Sonya remarked, stirring the embers of discontent with an enthusiastic hand. 'Honestly, Mark, how could you be such a dozy prawn as to buy that thing just because it was the first one you saw?'
"That's enough!' said Lee, quelling the incipient riot. 'Sonya, if you can't be any more helpful than that, try keeping quiet.'
'Sorry, Mum.' Sonya subsided, cheerful at having added her mite to the proceedings.
"That car is safe,' Mark said furiously. 'The gearbox is almost new, and the brakes never fail-'
'I shouldn't think they get the chance if you can't start it,' Sonya observed cheekily.
'I'm just saying those brakes never let me down. One touch and they're solid.'
'That's probably why you can'; start it. The brakes are still on-'
'Now look, you little brat-'
'Shut up, the pair of you!' Lee said in exasperation. 'There's no point in going on about this now. Mark, think about that offer. Three thousand pounds is all you need. In the meantime, when Phoebe comes back, if you want to take her out, you can borrow my car.'
She was guiltily aware that her fuse had shortened abruptly because she was miserable. She missed Daniel desperately. Offering her car to Mark had been an act of pure self-interest. The thought of Phoebe remaining home every evening, never allowing her a moment alone with Daniel, was unendurable.
I wonder if it'll be like this until she goes to university? she thought. And even then, now Sonya's home, it's going to be a terrible problem getting some time alone together. Unless…
Unless she married Daniel. Then everything would become simple. She managed to push the decision aside for the moment. She wasn't yet ready to take that final step. But she knew she'd moved one important stage nearer.
If she'd had to define what was holding her back Lee would have said that Daniel was too perfect. His charm never failed him, his good humour was never seriously disturbed, his manners were delightful.
She knew she was being illogical, since the first time she'd met him he'd been in a raging temper, but, as Mark had said, that was 'driverism' and in a special category. It didn't tell her what she wanted to know.
All his life Daniel had been favoured by the gods. His brains, his looks, his personal magnetism had combined to create for him a climate in which he generally got what he wanted-often because people were falling over themselves to give it to him. Even the battle for Phoebe, painful though it had been at the time, had finally gone his way. Phoebe herself was a daughter any man might be proud of. Why shouldn't Daniel Raife be charming?
Only when his delightful surface had been shattered by something more serious than a dented car would she know if she could live with him.
She longed for the courage to match Daniel's whole-hearted willingness to commit himself to her. But she'd learned caution in a hard and bitter school, and it was too late to free herself of it now.
One afternoon, when Phoebe and Daniel had been home a week, Lee was getting through her work as briskly as possible. She and Daniel were going out, and she wanted to leave the studio promptly. But at the last minute the phone rang. The caller turned out to be Brenda Mulroy, the senior partner in the model agency Mulroy & Collitt.
'Hello, Brenda. What can I do for you?'
'You've already done it,' boomed the other woman's deep, cheerful voice. 'You really do have a genius as a talent-spotter, Lee. Bless you for sending her to us.'
'Sending who?' asked Lee, bewildered.
'Phoebe Raife, of course. Those pictures are fantastic'
'What?'
'Don't tell me you've already forgotten giving her our address?'
'Brenda, please-I don't know what you're talking about.'
'Didn't you take those pictures of Phoebe Raife?'
Lee sat down abruptly. Some glimmering of the awful truth was getting through to her, but her mind refused to accept it. 'Yes, I took the pictures,' she said. 'Tell me what's happened. How did you get them?'
'They arrived in the post. When we saw them we couldn't believe our eyes. I phoned her and she came in this morning. Phoebe Raife is now represented by Mulroy & Collitt.'
'Do you mean she's actually signed something?' Lee asked, feeling her mouth go dry.
'No point, my dear. She's a minor. Besides, I don't like to feel our models only stay with us because they're tied up with legal strings. Trust is nicer.'
That was true, Lee thought, frantically clutching at straws. If there was one crumb of comfort in this business it was that Phoebe could hardly have gone to a better agency.
'Anyway,' Brenda boomed on, 'I thought you'd be pleased, seeing as you brought it all about. A little bird tells me you're practically part of
the family.'
'I'll be the skeleton in the cupboard after this,' Lee said frantically. 'Brenda, this is awful. Phoebe's going to Oxford.'
'Not according to her.'
'But you can't do this. I took those pictures as a birthday present for her. It was entirely private. They weren't meant to be used professionally.'
'You mean you didn't send her to us?'
'Of course I didn't. I don't even know how she knew that you- Oh, ye gods! Yes, I do!' Lee covered her eyes as the memory of Phoebe studying Roxanne's picture came back to her. 'Brenda, please, it was an accident. You mustn't take her on.'
'Lee, dear, I don't want to be obnoxious, but that's really between Phoebe and me. Whatever you meant her to do, she was free to come to us if she wanted. And modelling is obviously what she does want.'
Lee tore her hair. Brenda was right. She had no jurisdiction over Phoebe. And in different circumstances she would have congratulated the girl on her marvellous luck in being taken on by one of the best agencies in the business.
But none of this counted with Lee beside the inner conviction that Daniel was going to blame her.
She pulled herself together long enough to bid Brenda goodbye. As she replaced the receiver her eyes fell on a scrap of paper on the desk. It was a message in Gillian's writing.
.40 p.m. Daniel Raife phoned. Change of plan for tonight. Go straight to his house. Urgent. He said you'd understand. G.
Gillian returned at that moment. 'Oh good, you got it. I asked him if he wanted to talk to you, and he said. "No, just tell her!"'
'How did he sound?'
'Not friendly, to be honest. You two haven't had a row, have you?'
'Not yet, but it's coming.'
Daniel's front door opened as soon as Lee arrived, showing that he'd been waiting for her. He was scowling. 'Now see what your interference has led to,' he snapped.
'My-? Now wait a minute, Daniel. I knew nothing about this until half an hour ago. Phoebe sent the agency those pictures herself.'
'And how did she know where to send them?'
