Tiger's Eye

by Madeleine Ker

  ‘It isn’t cheap,’ Rick agreed.

  ‘And Mr. Oliver says that a helicopter isn’t a toy,’ Lucy smiled. ‘Drink your milk up, Terry. You know it’s good for you, especially when you’ve got a bit of a cold.'

  ‘I see,’ Leila said quietly. The toys were all for adults in this household, it seemed. The selfishness of the man was evident in everything he did. She was no stranger to the world of the rich. Most ‘of the people she’d temped for were concerned with making a lot ‘of money as fast as possible. But Blaize Oliver was different. Not yet forty, he had already made more money―or more likely Inherited it―than he knew how to spend, and was Simply living among his wealth with casual enjoyment. He could buy helicopters, and keep an instructor on tap, with the nonchalance with which ordinary people bought a houseplant.

  And, in the midst of all this opulence, his two children sat as quiet and ignored as mice. It hadn't escaped her notice that Blaize hadn’t spoken to his children, or paid them any sort of attention, through the whole course of the meal.

  Lunch broke up shortly before two, with everyone moving off to different duties or enjoyments. Leila waited at the table for orders from her employer, picking idly at a bunch of grapes.

  Turning from the Spaniard with a laugh, he came over to Leila. ‘Ready for a little work?’

  ‘Of course.’ She nodded.

  He towered over her, looking down at her. ‘Go and get your costume on, then. I’ll see you out at the pool.’

  It was none the less a command for being said easily.

  She touched the cool sun-dress she’d changed into after her shower. ‘Actually, I’m fine in what I’ve got on—’

  ‘You’ll roast,’ he cut through her protests calmly. ‘This is the hottest part of the day. Besides, you’ll get splashed.’

  His eyes glittered that hidden smile. ‘I’m a boisterous swimmer, Miss Thomas.’

  ‘Well, I don’t mind the odd splash—’

  ‘And bring a notepad. We’ll kick off with some letters, and then see what the afternoon’s phone calls bring in. Later tonight, I’ll show you the office where you can use the computers and the telex.’

  ‘Very well.’

  ‘Move it, then.’

  ‘Mr. Oliver,’ she said with an effort, ‘I’d really rather stay in my dress, if it’s all the same to you.’

  ‘But it isn’t all the same to me. Lesson number one.’ The force of his personality was underlined by the gentle, husky tone. ‘Complete obedience. At all times. Go and change, Miss Thomas.’

  He walked away, leaving her fuming in her chair.

  Abruptly, she noticed Tracey’s tense face watching her from across the table.

  ‘Come along, Miss Thomas.’ Tracey’s voice was thin, and her eyes had that bruised look again. ‘What are you waiting for? Get yourself into your costume, like a good little temp. Dad’s keen to examine the wares, can’t you see that?’

  Leila suppressed her flash of anger, and went upstairs without a word.

  The costume she’d bought before leaving London had not been designed for lying in the sun in the full view of her employer.

  She’d always strictly divided her clothes into on-duty and off-duty, and the dusky pink bikini was very difinitely an off-duty garment. It belonged to the other side of her life, the side that didn’t have to bother being discreet or keeping a low profile. She'd bought it to get the maximum amount of tan in her off-duty hours. Alone.

  It was bad enough that the halter-neck top clung to her neat, full breasts rather too lovingly. It was worse that the bottom was cut so high at the hip that It was no more than two triangles of pink nylon. The bikini didn’t so much cover her femininity as flaunt t with a fanfare of trumpets. Leila realised with despair as she checked her reflection in the mirror that a man like, Blaize Oliver would take it as a blatant invitation. Dad's keen to examine the wares.’ And Tracey would feel exactly the same way. After all her promises to the girl this morning, it was going to look as though she were deliberately setting out to attract attention.

  She looked away from her reflection, across the room. Through the window, the riotous garden blossomed, nature flourishing in all its exuberance. And, beyond, that violet-blue sky.

  What the hell! She hadn’t come here to get involved with anyone. Her life was her own, and no one elses. She had no reason to feel guilt about anything. She was a professional, wasn’t she? Why should she let herself get embroiled in the spider’s web of emotions that was stretched around this house? If her employer wanted her to work in a bikini, or in yellow overalls, what was that to her?

  Angrily, Leila belted the matching toweling robe around her waist, picked up a steno pad and pencil, and walked out of the room to meet her employer.

  Blaize Oliver was waiting for her at the edge of the pool, reclining in one of the white chairs, talking brusquely down the telephone. A cup of coffee was going cold on the table in front of him. He was back in his swimming-trunks, but had a white robe slung carelessly around his shoulders. A muscular arm reached out and hauled the other chair close to his own. He covered the mouthpiece for a moment.

  ‘Take that robe off and sit down,’ he commanded her, then went back on a rapid-fire of quick instructions down the telephone.

  Leila obeyed, willing her poise not to falter as she did so. The sun was suddenly hot on her skin. She was all too aware of the man’s eyes on her as she sat, and poised the pencil over the pad.

  ‘And tell Milan I want the whole thing wrapped up by September,’ he concluded. ‘Impress on them that, strikes or no strikes, if they can’t deliver I’ll find someone who can. Call me back, Steve.’

  He dropped the receiver, and gave his full attention to Leila. ‘Well, well.’ His voice was cool. ‘So that’s what you’ve been hiding under those drab clothes?’ He was studying her creamy body with lazy interest. ‘You’re well put together, Miss Thomas.’

  Leila flushed. ‘I’m ready to start work, Mr. Oliver.’

  ‘So am I.’ He nodded, eyes hooded. ‘If you want to take that top off, please don’t be shy. Everyone sunbathes topless round here.’

  Her flush deepened. ‘That really won’t be necessary, thank you. Where do you want to begin?’

  She knew he was laughing at her, and she hated him for it. The sensual mouth curved in a mocking smile.

  ‘How fast can you take dictation?’

  ‘Fast,’ she said succinctly, pencil poised over the pad.

  ‘Very well. Tell me if you want me to slow down.’

  And he launched into the afternoon’s work.

  ‘But, darling,’ Katherine Henessey said in her smooth, sweet voice, ‘it’s not as if they’re real stones. And all the young girls are wearing pretty things these days. It’s the fashion.’

  ‘That bracelet was expensive,’ Blaize said firmly. ‘You shouldn’t have bought it for her. I don’t want my kids spoiled, you know that.’

  ‘Oh, you’re too strict,’ Katherine protested.

  ‘Tracey gets everything she asks for,’ Blaize replied drily. ‘That isn’t good for a girl of her age.’

  ‘I was spoiled rotten as a girl, and I’ve turned out all right. Besides, Tracey’s as quiet as a mouse. She needs a little spoiling.’ Katherine turned to Leila for support. Am I right, Leila?’

  They were sitting in a relaxed group on the terrace, after a late dinner. A few candles glowed on the tables, but most of the illumination was coming from the millions of diamond-bright stars that spangled the velvet sky above. It was balmy and warm. Over the two days she’d been here, Leila hadn’t felt cold once; in fact, right now her shoulders were prickling with the painful itch of incipient sunburn. Too late, she’d realised that a wide-brimmed hat was essential wear in this Spanish sun.

  She just smiled in answer to Katherine’s question. It wasn’t hard to see why Tracey Oliver was so keen on this tall, willowy neighbour from across the valley.

  Katherine Henessey, a tall, brunette divorcee in her mid-thirties, pai
d both children the kind of attention that they so obviously craved. She’d been here most of the evening, and the children had blossomed in her company tonight. It had been almost pathetic to see their faces lit up with laughter for once, and to see Tracey’s pleasure in the pretty little bracelet that Katherine had brought for her. When they’d been packed off to bed, both children had kissed Katherine goodnight with real affection.

  Whether that affection was truly reciprocated or not, Leila felt uncertain. There were certain resonances to Katherine Henessey that she found somehow contrived too sweet for belief.

  Or was she just showing the cynicism of someone who’d never known unalloyed kindness from a stranger?

  Perhaps she was. But, whatever Tracey’s views on the matter, Leila knew with a woman’s instinct that Katherine Henessey was very serious about Blaize. It was obvious, because she made it so unobvious.

  Katherine was on terms of easy familiarity with the family, whom she’d known in England for a year or two; It had been Katherine, Leila gathered, who had persuaded Blaize to look for a holiday house on the Costa Brava. She herself had a villa in the neighbouring town bought with the divorce settlement her ex-husband had made on her.

  She glanced at Katherine’s face as she talked. The candle-glow was flattering, concealing the faint lines at the corners of her eyes and mouth, but, even granted that aid, she was a strikingly attractive woman. A smooth, tall, tanned woman with soft hazel eyes and a honeyed voice, who used her long, cool fingers to touch the people she spoke to, creating an air of confidential, intimacy.

  A good match for Blaize Oliver. A poised, sensual woman who had enough sexuality to keep him interested in bed, and enough intelligence to keep him amused out of it. Maybe she even had what it took to slow down Blaize’s consumption of more casual affairs.

  They’d been close tonight, with a good deal of laughter, and a good deal of intimate teasing that wasn’t open to anyone else in the company.

  Yet she was almost certain that they were not physical lovers. There wasn’t that feeling between them. It was more the flirty tension of people who were strongly attracted to each other, but who hadn’t yet made that initial move. Hadn’t made it, but were waiting to make it when the time was right.

  Towards Leila herself, his manner had so far been cool and detached. There had been none of the swift attempts at seduction she had expected. During working hours, especially, he was just short of icy towards her. He hadn’t been joking when he’d said he made heavy demands on his staff. He treated her with something less than the consideration he would give to a machine, his manner colder than businesslike. As he gave dictation, or instructed her in work he wanted done, she sometimes got the feeling that he wasn’t aware of her presence at all. She was just another machine to him.

  Out of working hours, at least, he was slightly more human. For some reason, she often felt that he was laughing at her, but, so far, what it was about her that amused him eluded her. Maybe he thought her naive, or priggish, after her blushing reaction to his invitation to remove her bikini top. No doubt he found her very unsophisticated compared to a woman like Katherine …

  Blaize’s affair with Katherine would be a thing of costly gifts and delicate sentiments, leading, ideally, to the chime of wedding bells, the second time around for both of them. And little Tracey would have her wish.

  Katherine reached out now, to touch Leila’s arm, breaking her line of thought. ‘You must have been an exquisite child, Leila, with that golden hair and those big blue eyes. I’m sure your parents spoiled you to bits.’

  ‘I’m afraid they didn’t,’ Leila replied, trying to make it sound relaxed.

  Blaize, sitting near her in the soft darkness, turned his head towards her. ‘Were they strict with you?’

  ‘No,’ she replied, and picked up her drink. ‘They weren’t strict, either.’

  ‘What were they, then?’ Katherine smiled.

  ‘They weren’t anything,’ Leila said, ‘because they weren’t there.’

  There was a little silence in their group for a moment with only the quiet voices of Rick Waterrneyer and the others murmuring from the other side of the terrace. Leila cursed herself for having released that bit of personal information. But it was too late to take it back at this stage, and the inevitable sympathetic enquiries would now begin.

  ‘What happened to them?’ Blaize asked quietly.

  ‘I don’t know,’ Leila said lightly. ‘I never knew them. They left me when I was a baby, and I don’t really even know who they were.’

  Katherine breathed a little ‘oh’ of pity. ‘You were abandoned; just like Blaize!’

  Leila looked at Blaize’s candle-lit face in quick surprise.

  ‘Didn’t you have any parents, either?’ she couldn’t stop herself from asking.

  ‘I had parents, just as you did,’ he replied with husky Irony. ‘We all have parents, Leila. But, like yours, mine weren’t too keen on parenthood. Where were you brought up?’

  ‘In care.’

  ‘So was I.’ For a moment, they stared at each other. His eyes glinted in the shadow. ‘I should have guessed ,' he said softly.,

  So they were alike, then! And all this wealth had been made by Blaize, single-handed. She knew that, in this moment, her feelings towards him had changed. Not that she condoned what she saw as his bad behaviour but there was a link between them that went deep something that made them close, whether they accepted that or not .

  ‘But you’ve got a surname.’ Katherine’s soft voice intruded into the moment. ‘Is that just made-up?’

  Leila didn’t wince. She’d been asked that before. ‘No it’s not made-up,’ she replied coolly. ‘Thomas was my mother’s surname. She had me christened Leila, too.’

  ‘Then you’ve got birth certificates and so on?’ Katherine pursued.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Where were you born?’

  ‘In Nottingham. That’s where I grew up.’

  ‘Well if you know all that, you could surely trace at least your mother?’ Katherine said brightly. ‘I mean, with records, you could almost certainly find out who she is and what she’s doing now, and she might even be able to tell you where your father is, too!’

  ‘Yes’ Leila said heavily. ‘I probably could do all that.'

  ‘Well don’t you want to?’ Katherine demanded, with sublime lack of tact. ‘I couldn’t bear not knowing who my parents were!’

  Blaize’s voice was wry. ‘Maybe Leila’s figured that, if her mother didn’t want her when she was a baby, she probably wouldn’t want her now, either.’

  ‘But people change,’ Katherine Henessey protested. ‘The poor woman is probably tormented with guilt about what she did, all those years ago. My heart bleeds for her! To give up a child is a terrible thing. Haven’t you ever thought of that?’

  ‘Yes,’ Leila said, keeping her voice steady with an effort, and fighting down the pain. ‘I’ve thought of that. Now and then.’

  ‘Then your conscience ought to tell you to trace her,’ Katherine said firmly. She laid those cool fingers on Leila’s hand for emphasis. ‘It’s no use nursing a grievance for all these years, Leila. 1mean, your mother is probably aching for a reconciliation with you. I read the most touching article recently about a woman who—’

  ‘Katherine,’ Blaize said gently, ‘you’re trampinng through Leila’s nightmares.’

  Katherine looked at him in surprise. ‘What?’

  ‘Just leave it,’ he said, in the same quiet voice. ‘If Leila wanted to find her parents, she would have done so.’

  He wasn’t offering her any sympathy, and she knew better than to ever offer him any. By this stage, you were beyond sympathy. People who’d grown up as she and Blaize had grown up didn’t trade in trite condolences.

  But there was suddenly something else between them ―an understanding. Some kind of unspoken bond that went beyond words. Leila felt an odd movement in her breast, as though her heart had turned over inside her, as thoug
h he had somehow reached out to touch her in the warm, Spanish night.

  ‘Well, 1was only trying to help,’ Katherine said, taking her fingers away from Leila’s hand. ‘I just thought that, with a little push, Leila might—’

  ‘Leila’s been pushed a lot in her life,’ he interrupted. ‘I think she’s probably tired of it by now.’

  ‘Oh! You’re making me feel awful,’ Katherine wailed, putting her hand on Blaize’s this time. ‘I really don’t understand what I’ve said that was so terrible!’

  ‘Of course you don’t,’ he agreed. ‘You had loving parents who spoiled you. We’re different.’

  Katherine looked quickly from him to Leila, who was lifting a drink to her mouth, and trying to, hide the way her fingers were shaking. ‘How, different?’