MANHATTAN MAGIC
by
MARINA OLIVER
Coming out of the shower in her borrowed apartment, Rezia is confronted by a very angry – but very blond and attractive – young man. She expected her photographic commission in New York to be exciting – but not this exciting!
Klaus turns out to live next door and has mistaken Rezia for the apartment's owner. But their quickly developing relationship is threatened by newspaper photographs of him he thinks she has taken.
Rezia is looking forward to working in the major art galleries and museums in New York. And being given the use of Gina's luxury penthouse apartment overlooking Central Park when Gina suddenly goes away adds even more to her expectations.
But Klaus' behaviour puzzles Rezia. Maybe he mistook her for Gina – but why should he be so angry? What was Gina not telling her?
Gradually Klaus' efforts to make amends by taking Rezia to dinner – and even to his Long Island home enables them to develop a more relaxing relationship. But then photographs of Klaus in his home are published and he blames Rezia. Can their friendship survive?
Manhattan Magic
By Marina Oliver
Copyright © 2012 Marina Oliver
Smashwords Edition
The moral right of the author has been asserted
Cover Design by Debbie Oliver
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or distributed in any form, including digital and electronic or mechanical, without the prior written consent of the Publisher, except for brief quotes for use in reviews.
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
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Print edition published under the pseudonym Laura Hart by Barley Books 2000.
See details of other books by Marina Oliver at
http:/www.marina-oliver.net.
Author Note
Living in New York is a dream for many girls, and for Rezia it comes true when she begins to work there on an assignment. It's a fabulous place with the skyscrapers and the feeling of importance that big things happen in the Big Apple.
MANHATTAN MAGIC
by MARINA OLIVER
Chapter 1
'This is unbelievable!' Rezia exclaimed, putting down her laptop and surveying the beautiful room with wide windows overlooking the lush greenery of Central Park.
To her left the Manhattan skyscrapers were visible, and the other way was a glimpse of the Reservoir behind what she was sure was the Metropolitan Museum of Art. How convenient this apartment would be when she was working there. Many of the other museums and galleries were close by, too. Below, the Fifth Avenue traffic, as crowded as she'd been told it was, crawled past, but the double glazing was so efficient only the faintest hum could be heard, and the occasional blare of a horn or siren. It would be different if she sat on the small balcony. This block was not very tall, and the noise and fumes would be unpleasant.
Gina, an amazingly pretty girl a year or so older than Rezia, equally dark haired, but not so tall, glanced up from the letters she was scanning, and shrugged. 'It's convenient, but the neighbours can be a pest!'
'I thought there was only one other flat – apartment, I mean – on this top floor?' Rezia said, puzzled. 'Who lives there?'
'Forget it. I had a row with him last time I was here, that's all. I must fly, the car will be here. You've got my father's office address?'
'Yes, and I'll send all your mail to him, don't worry. It's the least I can do for you when you let me use this wonderful place.'
Gina vanished into the bedroom. Rezia glanced round the large room again, blinking in disbelief. It was bigger than her entire flat back in London, furnished with two huge, leather-covered settees, several matching armchairs, and a round walnut dining table. Expensive scatter rugs dotted the highly polished floor, and on one side was the biggest television screen she had ever seen, with a variety of hi-fi and video equipment. She'd never discover how it all worked. In a corner was a computer and printer.
Gina reappeared, carrying a small airline bag.
'Is that all you're taking?' Rezia asked.
The other girl shrugged. 'I'll buy what I need. I haven't time to pack more. I'm glad you're here, and your cousin was a good friend to me when I was in England. Don't forget to hook up to my printer, you needn't go to A.P.P. to do them. I'll send my L.A. address when I've got somewhere to myself, but for the time being I'll be moving round, with my friend Gabby – '
The phone buzzed discreetly, and she jumped, then slowly picked it up. 'Gina Sondberg. Oh, the car. I'll be right down, thanks.' She picked up her bag and moved into the vestibule, then turned to Rezia. 'Here are the keys. There's a good restaurant in the basement here, and Mrs O'Brien comes three mornings. Bye.'
She opened the door a few inches, peered out, then with a sigh of relief slid through and was gone.
*
Rezia took a deep breath, grinned at Gina's exaggerated caution, then forgot it as she marvelled at her good fortune. This was better than a room at the West Side Y, or some poky flat miles away in the suburbs. She began to explore. A small kitchen held only coffee, wine and crackers. Gina had confessed she always ate out, but Rezia couldn't afford to do that. She would need to shop for food tomorrow. The bedroom contained a king-sized bed, and what appeared to be miles of fitted closets with mirrored doors.
Through an open doorway was a pink marble bathroom, with piles of deep pink towels stacked at the end of the tub. Suddenly Rezia felt grubby from her transatlantic flight. The temperature was in the high nineties, her cab from the airport had been slow, and had reeked of cigarette smoke, and even the efficient air conditioning in the apartment did little to relieve the heavy stickiness. Moments later, her clothes discarded on the bed, she was standing under the shower, revelling in the fierce jets and soaping herself lavishly.
Back in the bedroom she stood in front of the dressing table and wrapped her head in a towel. As she began to dry herself she heard footsteps on the parquet floor of the sitting room. Had Gina forgotten something? Then it occurred to her that the footsteps were heavier than Gina's, and sounded very determined. In alarm she grabbed the biggest towel she could find and wrapped it round herself, tucking in the ends just as the bedroom door slammed open.
'So there you are, you damned little liar!' a furious male voice exclaimed. Before Rezia could move she was seized by the shoulders and spun round, then shaken roughly by what seemed like a blond giant.
'Let me go!' she gasped, clutching at the towel which threatened to descend round her feet, and then she almost fell as the man abruptly released her. 'What the hell do you think you're doing, bursting in like that?' she demanded furiously, having recovered both her balance and her breath, though not her towelling turban, which had slid from her head.
'Who the blazes are you? And what are you doing in Gina's apartment?'
'I might ask the same. She didn't warn me it might be invaded by maniacs! I'm Rezia Santos and she's rented it to me.'
If this was who Gina had been afraid of, she had cause. Could there be two madmen in the building? She'd heard New York was dangerous, but surely not inside such a luxurious, well-protected block?
He glanced at the open suitcases. 'You sound English. But what sort of a name is Rezia?'
'I am English,' she said through gritted teeth. 'It's short for Lucrezia.'
<
br /> 'As in Borgia? Don't ever cook for me. Where is that little fool Gina? How long have you been here?'
'I think you'd better tell me who you are before you begin interrogating me!'
Suddenly he laughed, and Rezia felt hot as his vivid blue eyes studied her from the top of her tousled head, past the rather inadequate and insecure covering provided by the towel, and down her long slim legs. Determined not to show her embarrassment she inspected him as closely.
He was startlingly good looking, tall and with long blond hair which curled over his ears and broad forehead. He wore a casual blue shirt and tight black jeans which did nothing to hide broad shoulders, a slim body, and long, muscular legs. She glanced back at his face. Despite his fair hair his eyelashes and brows were dark, and he was grinning at her, showing white even teeth.
'Let's observe the civilities, then,' he drawled. 'Klaus Edmondson, and I live opposite. Sorry to burst in on you, but the doorman said Gina was back and I wanted to see her rather urgently.'
'She's away and lent me the apartment.'
'Where's she gone?' he demanded, his mouth compressing into a thin, straight line.
'Los Angeles.'
He sighed with exaggerated patience. 'L.A. County, child, is many times the size of London. Haven't you a more precise address?'
'There's no point in being smart with me,' she snapped. 'I'm not Gina's keeper.'
Suddenly, disarmingly, he smiled, and Rezia shivered. He looked even more dangerous than when he was in a rage. Dangerous? Then she nodded to herself slightly. Yes, dangerous, for he exuded so much sex appeal it would be difficult not to fall under his spell.
'I apologise. I've atrocious manners. But I must see her immediately. What's her address?'
'She's staying with someone called Gabby. I don't know who that is.'
'Gabby? I don't know any Gabby. Gabby who?'
'She didn't say, I tell you. Now will you please go.'
'For Pete's sake,' he interrupted fiercely, 'don't treat me like a half-wit! Of course she'll have said. I assume you're forwarding her mail.'
His swift changes of mood were bewildering, and Rezia, her temper fully aroused, snapped back.
'Don't call me a liar! Now get out. I don't know you from Adam, but you burst in, assault me, and call me names, for no reason. If you want to get in touch with Gina, ask her father. Her mail's going to him. Now I want to dress. Go.'
For a moment he glared at her, then his expression relaxed. 'I don't know you from Eve, come to that,' he murmured. 'Do you insist on getting dressed? You look so enticing as you are.'
Rezia backed away, looking round for a weapon in case this madman attacked her. He laughed.
'Don't worry, I'm harmless. But I have treated you abominably. May I apologise by taking you to dinner? Have you found the restaurant here yet?'
'I was getting ready to go there when you interrupted me,' Rezia pointed out. 'Please leave.'
She was reluctant to accept. If she did, she could not stay angry, and if she let down her guard, his undoubted charm would play havoc with her emotions. She knew it. And she didn't want that sort of turmoil in her life. She was here to do a job which would, if she made a success of it, substantially advance her career.
'Won't you let me make amends?' he cajoled, one eyebrow raised.
'There's no need,' Rezia said. 'I will forgive you so long as you go away now!'
As he gravely inclined his head, turned and departed, she wondered if she'd been a fool. If he spoke the truth, and lived in the next apartment, they would be bound to meet occasionally. Suddenly she recalled Gina's remark that she had quarrelled with her neighbour, and she chuckled. That didn't seem a difficult feat. It would explain her evasiveness, her refusal to leave an address, and her nervousness while she'd been showing Rezia the apartment. There was some mystery here!
*
She tried to thrust thoughts of him away as she pulled from her case one of the dresses her mother designed for an exclusive London boutique. It was silk, a sleeved, flowing affair in soft subtle shades of green which picked up the green flecks in her eyes. It hinted at her curves by the way it swept over them in loose but cleverly cut lines. She knew how fortunate she was in not having to pay the earth for her clothes. With it she wore her only good piece of jewellery, a ring which had belonged to her grandmother. It was an emerald in an antique gold setting, and her mother had chosen the material of the dress to go with it. People who lived in these apartments had to be rich, and she didn't want to look out of place.
As she emerged from the apartment she looked round anxiously, but Klaus Edmondson was not lying in wait, as she'd half expected. She went down to the restaurant, a large room with tables set far apart, screened by banks of potted plants. As the maitre d' came towards her a voice behind intervened.
'My usual table, Giovanni. For two.'
Rezia swung round indignantly, but he gripped her elbow and propelled her remorselessly across the room to a screened table. Klaus thrust her into a chair, and sat beside her.
As soon as she regained her balance she struggled to her feet, and opened her mouth to blast him with her fury. He grinned, and she found her only way out blocked by an attentive waiter. She could not escape without creating a scene. Nor, as the waiter was handing her a menu, could she say what she thought of such high-handed behaviour.
'Smoked salmon and goulash, I think,' Klaus was saying before she had opened the menu. 'The same for you, Rezia?'
'No,' she snapped, and clutched her menu to her. The elaborate script danced before her eyes, and she soon gave up attempting to read it. 'Waldorf salad and steak, rare,' she said, a little breathlessly. All American restaurants would have those, surely.
Klaus eyed her in amusement. 'As the lady says. And I think a burgundy. Number 64.'
Giovanni bowed himself away, and Klaus grinned. 'I like a woman who knows her own mind,' he said softly.
She glared at him. 'What gives you the right to manhandle me and boss me around, and, and – '
'And try to make amends for earlier? I apologise once more. I'm trying to be more civilised now. How do you know Gina?'
*
Rezia decided it would be pointless to sit and glower at him throughout the meal. 'My cousin Julia was a friend of hers at college,' she said curtly. 'She asked Gina to help me find an apartment while I'm in New York.'
'Doing what?'
'I'm a photographer. I'm taking photographs of paintings in the museums and galleries here, to illustrate a book on European and American portrait painters.'
'Are you freelance?'
'No, though I hope to be soon, if this job is successful. I work for a big company, A.P.P. They publish all sorts of things, books, magazines, newspapers.'
'I've heard of them,' he said, and she wondered at the grim tone that crept into his voice. 'How long will you be here?'
'Two or three months, I expect.'
She forgot the time, or to be angry with him, as he discussed the museums and galleries where she would be working. He knew a great deal about them, and also British and European ones, and they compared notes of the ones they had visited or meant to visit in the future. When he glanced apologetically at his watch, saying he had an appointment in half an hour, she was surprised to feel sorry.
'Put that away,' he ordered when she fished her credit card from her bag. 'This is my apology.'
She began to protest, then decided he owed her something for the fright he'd given her. He accompanied her up in the elevator, saying he had to fetch a book. Outside the door she turned to thank him, and found he had a key in his hand. He opened her door, and ushered her in.
'Where did you get a key?' she demanded, all her suspicions flooding back. She hadn't thought to ask how he'd got in before, she'd been too startled and angry.
'Gina left one with me years ago, in case I needed to check up on the apartment. Do you want to confiscate it?' he added, laughing.
She could hardly say yes, if Gina had given
it to him. 'I'd rather you didn't use it when I'm here,' she managed, and in her own ears she sounded prim and proper. 'Good night, and thank you.'
He grinned, and moved slowly towards her. She'd had plenty of time to avoid him, she told herself later, but somehow she didn't move as his arms went slowly about her. His lips teased hers, and without conscious thought her hands crept round his neck. He crushed her to him until she could scarcely breathe. Suddenly he released her, turned her round, and pushed her in through the door.
'Sweet dreams, temptress. I do wish I hadn't promised to visit Arlene.'
Who, she wondered, was Arlene? One of his girlfriends, she assumed. A man like Klaus would have women falling over themselves to gain his attention. He must be rich to live here, he was incredibly good looking, and when he wanted to he could be a charming companion. He was too good to be true.
Inside the apartment she wandered dreamily into the bedroom and shook her head in disbelief. She never kissed a man on a first date. It hadn't even been a proper date, she'd been forced into compliance. The wine had been extra potent. That explained it. She slipped off her dress, suddenly exhausted. It had been a very long day, and jet lag was catching up with her. Too tired to find anything to wear, she slipped naked under the sheet.
Klaus Edmondson. The name was vaguely familiar. But she was too sleepy to recall how and why she'd heard it before. Within seconds of her head hitting the pillow she was fast asleep.
*
Chapter 2
After strong black coffee the following morning Rezia unpacked. Choosing a sleeveless beige linen dress she decided her priority was shopping for basic groceries. She found a store which sold all she needed in a nearby side street, then she decided to have breakfast in the nearest cafeteria. It was run by a family of cheerful, noisy Italians, and when they heard her accent they insisted she had to have pancakes and maple syrup.
Manhattan Magic Page 1
