Fighting him was so clearly a waste of time. He would always win, and her new-found confidence ebbed away every time he looked at her. There was only one way to defeat him—to be his stepsister, to rely on his not forgotten protection and his lingering desire to help her.
She knew him as well as he knew her. He would call her to order, scorn her, hurt her, but if anyone else attempted the same treatment he would spring forward to her defence like the jaguar of the plains. He had protected her from the accident, dismissed Carmen at her request, bowed to her demands to refurbish Manuel's wardrobe. He was her stepbrother still and committed to his duties so that she would always be under his protection because she was a small satellite on the very edge of the mighty orbit of the Ortigas. She might be unwanted, excluded, but she was real and not to be insulted, hurt or ignored by anyone who did not remotely touch their lives; only they had the right to exclude her and her position was a determined factor.
She gave a final flick to her hair, smooth and silky, deep gold in the lamplight, her heavy fringe swept to one side. The dress she had bought was not quite glamorous but it suited her, made her feel good, the white organza floating over a pale green satin skirt, the bodice tight and low, a fairytale froth of white. She smoothed on a pale lipstick, hopeful that the dress would help her to play the game she had planned, a game to keep Ramon at arm's length until she could defeat him and finally get away to London and her settled life.
"You look lovely, Merry!" Manuel was all admiration when she went to say goodnight and found him perched in bed reading, the television control at the ready in his hand.
"Beautiful!" Ramon's voice echoed the praise and she turned to find him standing in the doorway watching her.
"Well, thank you!" She smiled brilliantly at them both. "It's nice to have such an appreciative family."
"You look very much like a bride," Ramon murmured as they went to the lift and she forced an impish smile to her shaking lips.
"Let's hope that the waiter from the tea-room is on duty upstairs tonight then. He'll believe your story more readily if he sees the bridal gown."
He said nothing and she hoped that she had not overplayed her hand. Her heart sank as fast as the lift when she realised that they were going down and not up, but Ramon hushed her queries.
"One moment only. Wait for me here."
He strode into the foyer and out of sight, leaving her by the lift as he went towards the expensive arcade of shops that catered for the wealthy guests at the hotel, but it was only when they were again in the lift, this time ascending, that he produced the small Cartier box and withdrew a thin golden chain with an exquisite opal hanging like a raindrop arrested in time from its centre.
"Some say that opals are unlucky," he remarked softly, "but against your skin it is a small drop of moonlight."
He fastened it around her neck, letting the opal fall into the shadows between her breasts.
"It—it's beautiful. It must have cost a fortune! Ramon-why did you…?"
"You are tastefully dressed. I am enhancing the taste," he said mockingly, adding in a quiet voice, "though if you were suddenly to don a hat with "Kiss me quick" written across it, I would be happy to oblige."
He stood over her, his hands on both sides of her, resting against the panelling of the lift, trapping her securely.
"I'm glad to see that you're in a good mood," she managed to smile, frantically trying to keep up her sisterly act. "I always know that you're in a good mood when you're teasing me."
"Is that what I'm doing?" he asked, looking down at her wryly.
Their table was near the dance-floor but in an intimate corner and she was really grateful. She wanted no interested onlookers to see her playing the little sister. And play it she did until she was exhausted. As one course followed another and as they watched the floor-show she chattered away happily about anything that came into her head, her eyes over-bright, her lips constantly smiling until the effect threatened to bring about her complete physical collapse.
And Ramon played along with her, sliding into the role he had played for years but this time with no frowns, only charm and wit. She was thankful for the brief respite when later he stood and invited her to dance, at least she could keep quiet out there and catch her breath, think up some new topic of conversation. Her skin was flushed with her efforts, her facial muscles stretched tight with the need to keep on smiling, and out on the dimness of the dance-floor he took her into his arms, moving to the slow rhythm of the dance.
"Peace at last!" he murmured, laughter in his voice. "Now I can rest from the utter exhaustion that playing your game has brought me."
"I'm not playing any game!" She looked up, forcing her tired mouth to smile again, but he shook his head despairingly and pulled her shining head to his shoulder, locking her against him.
"Please, Meriel!" he murmured in amusement. "You have tired me out. I cannot keep pace with your acting ability. I cannot match your lines as you frantically play the part of my small defenceless sister."
"I am your sister!" she muttered. "Well, your stepsister."
He tilted her face and looked down at her with dark, unreadable eyes before pushing her head gently back to his shoulder.
"You are a slender, frightened, beautiful—idiot," he averred softly. "Rest, before you overdo it and shatter into a thousand glittering pieces. You are generating enough energy and brilliance to light up the whole of Caracas."
What was the use? With a sigh she stayed where she was, feeling a sort of hopeless comfort when his hand began to massage to tight muscles of her neck.
"Silly child," he commented softly. "You have gained a few interesting curves, a little self-confidence but basically you are still the same—foolish."
She was too tired to argue anyway. With Ramon it was possible to cram in a lot of living in one day. She had brought up a new idea and had it knocked down after he had allowed her to exhaust herself and behave like a halfwit. Right at this moment she had run completely out of ideas—maybe tomorrow…
She yawned tiredly and found him grinning at her as she looked up.
"You had better go to bed, I think, like a good girl, like the sort of girl you are playing," he observed, leading her off the floor. "I will see you safely up and then come back to join the grown-up ladies."
There had been plenty of them, watching him all evening, and he did exactly what he had said, he went back down, but she was too tired to care. She let her dress fall to the floor, wiped off her make-up and fell into bed.
CHAPTER FIVE
NEXT morning, Meriel awoke to the touch of a cool hand on her shoulder, irritation in her that she had been forced into wakefulness when she was still so tired. For a second she was disorientated, back in her London flat, certain that her alarm had not rung and that therefore this was a great liberty that someone was taking to bring her out of her pleasantly dreamy world.
Realisation of her surroundings came with an embarrassing rush however when she opened her eyes and turning her face sideways, found herself looking into the amused, dark eyes of her stepbrother.
"Oh!" She spun round on to her back and struggled up, sinking back under the sheets with equal speed when she realised that her only covering seemed to be the glowing opal pendant that still hung warm and beautiful between her breasts.
"Ay ay ay!" he said softly, his smile growing. "Now I know how the opal should be worn." He reached across and lifted the precious stone, his fingers brushing her flesh as she lay with the sheets tightly around her, only her bare shoulders a focus for his laughing eyes. "It is still warm," he murmured, watching her flushed and anxious face. "I really believe that it has picked up an extra glow from you." He dangled it on the chain, away from her neck and then lowered it slowly back into place, watching it slide across her heated skin and resume its place in the deep secret hollow.
"We leave very soon," he said with suddenly tight and unsmiling face. "I have still many things to do. You told me to leave Manuel to you
and I am holding you to that. Get up and resume your duties."
"All right, I'll be up the moment you go. Thank you for waking me." She wasn't quite sure what had wiped the smile from his eyes but there was no doubt that the teasing mood had gone as if it had never been there at all.
"It took very little effort," he said stiffly. "I have wakened you before in your life, usually to invite you to ride across the llanos before my day became too busy. Today I am inviting you to take up your share of the responsibility of your brother."
He stood up and lifted the lovely dress from the floor where she had left it the night before. For a second he looked at it, his mind clearly far away, and then he turned brilliantly intent eyes on her before tossing the dress on to the bed and walking to the door.
"Breakfast in ten minutes," he warned, "no lingering!"
She got up at once as the door closed, still flushed and confused by the lingering touch of his hand on her skin, still filled with the anxiety that he had always been able to bring to her mind when he moved from what seemed to be one personality to another. She knew with a sinking heart that she was as defenceless against him as she had ever been and she was in no doubt why. He had always meant too much to her. Even as a child she had anxiously watched for Ramon's reactions to things, and now she loved him with a painful, pointless longing that would have to be fought.
I thought that we'd be staying all day." Meriel remarked as she sat down to a breakfast that had been served in their suite. Their table was on the veranda and she could look out across the city towards the hazy blue mountains. She became aware that Ramon had not answered, and Manuel hastily intervened as she glanced across at Ramon and saw that he was intent on the papers in his hand and was paying no attention whatever to either of them.
"We have trouble at one of the mines," he said seriously. "Ramon is taking us back and then going out there to sort it out."
Somehow, his wording hit her hard. "We have trouble at one of the mines." The Ortiga mines. Manuel was already well on the way to being the Ortiga heir and absorbing the Ortiga attitude.
"You were very late up, Meriel," he explained carefully as she stayed in gloomy silence. "We waited breakfast for you and now it is very close to our time to leave."
"I'm sorry," she murmured absently. Meriel, not Merry as she had always been. Who needed her here anyway? For a long time her meetings with Manolito had been in England, not in his home background, and now she had discovered that not only did he get on well with Ramon, but that also he was the official spokesperson when Ramon didn't bother to answer.
"You must be disappointed, I know, Meriel, but I'm sure that you will be able to come another day."
It was altogether too much and she shot him a horrified glance only to find to her relief that it was the anxious eyes of her dear Manolito looking at her and not the imperious Ortiga eyes she had dreaded for years.
"Watch it!" She narrowed her eyes and pointed a cautionary finger. "You're beginning to sound like a very lordly person."
"I try to copy Ramon," he confessed, his face wreathed in smiles.
"A very dubious goal," Ramon remarked quietly. He did not look up but he was clearly aware of what was going on around him and had simply not bothered to answer when she had spoken.
He spoke only briefly too on the flight back and in the car that Luis Silva had brought to meet them, and Meriel sat in the back with Manolito, fighting her own particular demons of the past and keeping her eyes firmly on either Manolito or the wide stretches of the plains.
"There is a call for you, Senorita Meriel, this very instant," Rosita beamed as they entered the cool hacienda. "It is a Senor Mackensie from England and he will call straight back because I was able to tell him that I could see the car approaching." She was delighted with her ability to conduct a conversation in English and took all the shopping away with a very satisfied smile, Manuel excitedly talking to her and keeping pace with her quick little steps.
"Mackensie knows the telephone number here?" Ramon asked sharply as they left.
"Yes, he's my boss after all."
"You are on leave! What reason does he have to interrupt your leave by telephoning?" He stood towering over her as if she were part of some conspiracy and there was no softness in him.
"I don't imagine that the Mackensie Press is about to go into liquidation just because I'm not there!" she answered in growing annoyance, stung by his demanding tone. "I imagine that it's merely a private call, he's a friend too, you know. We're often together."
The shrill ringing of the phone saved her from further argument and she dived to answer it.
"Meriel? You got back then!" It was so good to hear his easy, warm voice.
"Yes, we just got in." Out of the corner of her eye she could see Ramon, still unmoving and openly listening, thinking no doubt that Stewart was about to cancel her leave.
"You sound edgy. Is everything all right?"
"Yes, darling. I'm perfectly fine." She noticed Ramon stiffen with annoyance and knew that for once in her life she had struck gold. Let him worry about how long she was going to be here. Let him worry about her relationship with Stewart that might take her back at any time.
"Aha! You have an audience!" Stewart remarked astutely. "I don't normally get that kind of encouragement. I'll overlook it this time, but don't push your luck or I'll be out there with a ring."
"You know, you're really a wonderful man," she said softly. "You know what I want without having to be told. I'm not ready for a ring yet though."
She was wondering how her end of the conversation would sound to Ramon and evidently it sounded not to his liking because he strode along to his room and closed the door firmly.
"All clear," she said with relief. "What's up?"
"Nothing, my dear girl." Stewart laughed. "I just wondered if I could help."
"You just did!" Meriel said wholeheartedly.
They talked for a while and then she went to her room, the small uplift that Stewart's call had given her draining away even before she reached her own door. Better to have Ramon's frowns than his newly acquired flirtatious behaviour, his amused assault on her peace of mind and new-found independence. She was in no doubt what he was doing. He was reducing her to the state she had been in when she had lived here in Venezuela so long ago, moulding her into a wary and weak personality that would acknowledge the Ortiga domination more readily. It hurt and it frightened her because she could not play games with Ramon.
He walked in almost behind her, briefcase in hand and a ferocious scowl on his face.
"I didn't hear you knock!" she said stiffly, turning on him at once.
"As I did not, it is not surprising!" he rasped. "I wished to tell you that I am leaving and you are therefore in a position of some responsibility. I may be away a couple of days or I may be able to solve the problem at once—I do not know. Should I be delayed, I expect to find you here when I return. There may be the odd decision to make, however trivial, and Manuel is in your safe keeping. Do not desert him!"
"You know perfectly well that I won't!" she snapped angrily.
"Perhaps not," he agreed, "but I know that when England calls you are incapable of ignoring it. I knew that when you were a child. You have not changed very much."
"I will not leave Manolito and, if you recall, I came immediately that you called me here!" she said hotly, anger boiling inside at his comments. She would have stayed for the rest of her life if he had asked her to. He had told her to go to her own kind and now with his usual ability to see only his own side of things he was accusing her of an obsessive attachment to England to the detriment of Manuel.
"Yes, you came," he agreed quietly, "but with obvious reluctance. I now understand why you were so reluctant. Inez, too, was greatly taken with Senor Mackensie. As she was rarely taken with anything at all, even her own children, he must have a great deal going for him. Remember, therefore, your duty here!"
He strode out, leaving her angry and miserable. His fa
rewell words had been to remind her as usual of duty and also, it seemed, some veiled, unspoken threat.
It was easier to cope and be herself when he was gone and not likely suddenly to pop up wherever she happened to be. She enjoyed her day with Manuel as she had enjoyed her shopping with him the day before. There was no mistaking his attachment to her and they were very easy in each other's company, bedtime coming with regrettable swiftness as the deep blue night of the llanos drew around the hacienda. It was always odd to sleep here when Ramon was away and she realised as she tossed restlessly that she still felt like that. She remembered that as a child she had felt very vulnerable and alone when Ramon was not in the house or within call, and when he had been away on business she had waited heart in her mouth for his return, only to have her childish overtures of welcome met with an aloof nod most of the time. Not all the time, her honesty added. There had been times when she had been swept up into the air, her delighted eyes looking down into the warm darkness of his, and those days she had clung to him like a brilliant chain of gold.
During her early days in England when she had finally left Venezuela she had puzzled over his unexpected and ardent lovemaking on that moonlit night, turning every action, every phrase over in her mind to find some explanation, but there had been none other than the one he had put forward himself. He had suddenly wanted her and had later come coldly and determinedly to his senses. If she were to think clearly about things, her life now and her treatment here were exactly what they would have been had she simply stayed to grow up in the hacienda. She would have been expected to be calm and businesslike, aware of duty and able to accept cool behaviour as part of her everyday life. Except for this tendency to get under her skin in the most masculine of ways, nothing had changed and there had to be some explanation for his sexual sniping. Ramon rarely did things with no end in view.
The Ortiga Marriage Page 8
