Brad stared at her but said nothing.
Finally Cormac broke the silence. “I’m sorry, my dear, I didn’t mean to upset you, and I appreciate your honesty, even if it is terribly unflattering to my ego to be referred to as a vulture. I hope you and Brad have every success with the project, and I wish you well. Now, if you don’t mind taking a turn around the dance floor with Mr. Wyman, I have a couple of things I’d like to say privately to my son before I leave for England.”
Zaira’s eyes widened, but Jonathan was already standing with his hand held out. As she walked across the room she could see every eye turn upon them. True, in the old days, they had been a striking couple, and even though Jonathan was deliberately trying to make himself older by dyeing his hair grey, he was still a good looking man. He put his arm possessively around her waist as they walked, and then pulled her into a tight embrace once they were on the dance floor.
Zaira struggled, but he laughed with wry amusement, and said, “I've had to sit there all night while that bastard pawed you. I’m your husband, or was it a vulture, but in any case, just hold still and enjoy it.”
Zaira looked up at him and spat, “That’s all I ever got to do when I was married to you, though the enjoyment was certainly lacking.”
“You bitch,” he said in a deceptively soft voice. “Do you want me to drag you out of here and prove you wrong?”
“Just because all your other women never complained doesn’t mean I have to flatter your male ego as well. I’m not going anywhere with you, so don’t waste your time. The only thing that would give me pleasure from you is a divorce. That’s the price of silence I’m demanding,” Zaira stated boldly.
“But what about the price for mine? That's a great game you’re playing, and I marvel at your acting skills. Two separate women getting money from the project. I like the accent. You always were good at making fun of mine with your usual New York snootiness. The hair and eyes are pretty good as well, though your own auburn is better. So just what game are you playing?” Jonathan demanded.
“I know you won’t believe it was an innocent mistake, but it all came about playing Ophelia with a black wig. I told you, I didn’t trust Clarke Studios, and when he met me as Zaira Darcy and told me he was planning to film Zoe’s book, and would I consult as an academic, it was too good to pass up. I needed the money, as you well know. “
“And which one is he in love with then? Zaira or Zoe? Or both?”
“Neither,” said Zaira, shaking her head sadly. “I’m sure he has someone else back in LA, so he and I are just good friends.”
“Is that what you’d call it?” Jonathan ground out, as he held her tighter.
“Look, Jonathan, I gave you the best years of my life, and you threw me and our marriage away for the sake of your greed and ambition. If you want to tell Brad about me, go ahead, but I’ll have a few things to tell him myself, and damn the consequences to everyone,” Zaira threatened angrily.
She took a ragged breath, and went on relentlessly, “I’m tired of all the games, the secretiveness in my life. I just want to be me from now on, and as soon as the performance of Hamlet is over on Saturday, and the screenplay finished, Zoe Dominick will cease to exist. Brad will never forgive me anyway, so it doesn’t matter. But if the project gets finished, then it will all be worth it, and Brad and I will never see each other again.”
“Fair enough,” Jonathan replied, but she could still see a predatory look in his eyes. “I won’t contest any divorce you arrange, and I won’t tell the Clarkes, for the moment anyway.”
“Not unless you want me to tell Brad everything,” Zaira reminded him once more.
To her horror a deep voice behind her said, “Tell me what, Zoe?”
Jonathan finally released her from the intimate dance hold, and sneered, “Your turn with her now, old boy,” as he walked off the dance floor.
Zaira couldn’t speak, and after a few moments he gathered her into his arms and pressed his hips against her until she blushed in confusion and embarrassment at his obvious desire.
“I don’t know what you two were scheming there, but I don’t like it. Stay away from him, he’s bad news to women. You look so gorgeous tonight, every man in this room would like to get his hands on you. But you're my woman, so don’t you dare forget that! No man is going to handle you like that ever again, do you hear me! Only my hands, my lips will ever touch you again,” Brad whispered, now smiling at her for the first time, though his eyes still glittered dangerously.
His mouth moved down to take hers in an exhilarating kiss, and her fingers itched to caress his naked flesh once more.
“You have no need to be jealous,” Zaira said shakily as she pulled her mouth away and shivered with passion at the suggestive remarks he had made. She remembered their afternoon of lovemaking with a vividness which made her blush.
“He was just asking me about the screenplay. I suppose Zaira should have a contract with the publishers as well, just to make everything legal and above board,” she improvised.
Brad shifted his body away from hers uneasily. “That’s true, I haven’t been looking after Zaira’s interests very well.”
“I’ll arrange a meeting with Matt then,” Zaira offered.
“No, I want to take care of this personally.”
Zaira wondered why he had gone so cold all of a sudden, and she tried to press up against him. Finally he looked down at her, and kissed her briefly. “Come on,” Brad said, “I don’t really feel like dancing.”
When they got back to the table, Jonathan was nowhere in sight, and Cormac was sipping coffee but looking rather irritated. Zaira looked for some sign of warmth from Brad, but it was evident he had other things on his mind. Perhaps seeing his father had reminded him of the girl he had left behind back in California, and so she decided to make a graceful exit before he felt obliged to offer to take her home.
“Well, thank you so much for the evening, Mr. Clarke. I’m sorry to have wasted your time, though I am of course flattered that you should be so interested.”
She held out her hand in a business-like manner, but he held it in his two large hands and stared down at her with a look Zaira almost thought was kind.
“The pleasure has been all mine, I assure you. Not many people stand up to me, least of all a chit like you. Your friend Zaira warned me you couldn’t be bought, so you can send my compliments to her, and apologies that I was such a beast this morning.” Cormac smiled.
Brad offered to take her home, but she could see it was only a token gesture, so she said smoothly, “No, of course not, Brad, you stay here and chat to your father, and I’ll see you at rehearsals tomorrow.”
Zaira made what she hoped was a dignified exit, though inside she felt as though she were dying.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
All the way home in the taxi, Zaira replayed the events of the day in her mind. After such an incredible afternoon, when she’d felt as if she meant something to him, and such a romantic dinner, suddenly, it had all changed in a most depressing way. Brad had become so distant, it was as if he’d already begun to regret their love-making. And yet he had been so attentive at dinner, right in front of his father. Zaira felt so wretched, she just wanted to get into bed and cry herself to sleep.
But there was still the small matter of her appearance to take care of, so as soon as she got into the apartment, she tore off her cocktail dress, and stood under the shower, scrubbing the black out of her hair vigorously. She knew Brad would be home soon, and would wonder why she was having a shower at this late hour.
She gave her hair a quick going over with the dryer before tying it back in a knot, and took out her lenses. She checked herself in the mirror to make sure she’d scrubbed off the last traces of make-up, and soon heard noises outside the door. She flicked off the light and got into bed, and hoped he would believe she was asleep and not try to talk to her about the events of the morning, which seemed a lifetime ago.
But then she heard the doorbe
ll ring, and she jumped up.
Zaira padded over to the door wearing nothing but a filmy night dress, and heard Brad say, “Zaira? I’m sorry, I forgot my keys.”
She let him in, and he looked at her briefly before turning away. “I’m sorry I woke you,” Brad whispered as he tried to skirt past her.
But Zaira was desperate for answers from him as to his sudden change in mood, and asked, “Well, how were rehearsals today?”
“Fine,” he muttered. He sat heavily on the sofa with his head in his hands.
“What’s wrong, Brad?” Zaira knew it was cruel to pry, but she hoped that maybe if he confided in her as a friend, she might find out the truth once and for all about the beautiful blond girl in the photo.
“Nothing really, it’s just been a long day, and I’m bone tired,” he sighed. She daringly went over and began to massage the rigid muscles in his neck and shoulders.
At first Brad stiffened, and said, “There’s no need to do that,” but Zaira assured him that it was no trouble. Eventually he relaxed and began to enjoy it, and the tension eased from his face.
“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked softly.
“Not just at the minute, Zaira, though we’re going to have to settle a few things between us soon. I’m not thinking straight about anything at the moment. Just when it all becomes clear in my mind, something happen which knocks my whole life spiraling out of control again,” he said quietly, holding her hands which circled round his neck.
“This business with your father, is that what's got you upset?” she whispered, nuzzling her cheek against him unconsciously.
“Not really, though I must say it surprised me a bit. No, Zoe stood up to them, just like you said she would. But you and I need to talk to the publishers about a contract for you. I’ll arrange a meeting with Matt Wolf for tomorrow night, for dinner as a special treat, if that’s all right.”
Zaira was rather alarmed. What on earth could she wear? She only had the one good dress to go out in, and Brad had already seen that on Zoe.
“There’s no need, really, I mean, I could just go up to their offices and sign the papers. There’s no need to make a fuss,” she said, trying to pull away.
Brad held on to her, and swung her around by one arm so that she landed in his lap. “Now don’t be silly, it’s my pleasure. It’s the least I can do to thank you for all the hard work you’ve done.”
He kissed her lightly, but the warmth of her through her flimsy covering soon urged him to press his kisses further. He ran one hand down the length of her, and then raised his hand up to remove her glasses, which Zaira took from him before looping her hands around his neck.
Suddenly Brad pulled his mouth away and stood up so abruptly, Zaira nearly fell. Only her arms around him stopped her from tumbling onto the floor, and she gasped, “Brad!”
Instinctively he grabbed her by the arms to steady her, and she could see the light in his eyes as he looked at Zaira briefly before running his hands up and down her arms and then turning his back to her.
“I think I must be going out of my mind,” Brad said raggedly, running his fingers through his lush hair. “Every time I come within ten feet of you I become completely without scruples. All my good intentions about not taking advantage of our living in the same place and working together go right out of the window. I want us to stay friends, I don’t want to hurt you, and now I have. And what’s done can’t be undone, even if I wanted it to, which I don’t. It just doesn’t make sense,” Brad groaned.
“Brad, you haven’t hurt me. If I desire you too, you’re not hurting me,” Zaira pleaded.
Brad shook his head and whispered, “No, you don’t understand. And I don’t understand myself. I’ve never used people before, I’ve never been in love before. I think I am now, but if I am, it’s sheer hell at the minute.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” Zaira offered, hoping he might tell her all she wanted to know. She felt sick inside at his rejection of her as both Zoe and Zaira, and wanted him to put her out of her misery once and for all. She had to know who this woman was tearing him apart, even if by finding out she hurt herself more.
“Brad, keeping it locked up inside you won’t help,” she urged. “I’m your friend no matter what.” Even if you leave me forever, she added silently, and prayed that this was not what he was about to tell her.
“Thanks, Zaira, really, but I don’t want to talk about it yet, not until I’m sure. I’ll tell you tomorrow. And speaking of tomorrow, we have that dinner to go to, so get your beauty sleep,” he said with a smile, though his voice was still tight, and his stunning emerald eyes looked haunted.
“I’ll see you in the morning, then, Brad,” Zaira said sadly, as she whispered across the floor, her nightgown trailing.
“Zaira?” Brad said softly, and she turned to face him once more, pushing her spectacles firmly up onto the bridge of her nose to see him better.
“What is it, Brad?” she whispered, trying to keep the pain and longing out of her voice.
“For what it’s worth, these have been the happiest days of my life here with you. I want you to know that ever since you and I met, I’ve never known such happiness existed. I’ve tried to bring the joy of living back into your life, and the funny thing is, you’re the one who brought it back into mine.”
“This sounds suspiciously like a goodbye to me, Brad Clarke,” Zaira said, trying not to cry.
“Every ending is a new beginning, isn’t it?” Brad shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ll wait and see.”
“All right, but you will let me know your plans, won’t you?” Zaira said frostily, and closed the door before he could say anything more.
Alone in her room, Zaira felt the weight of despair crush her heart. Just when she had been so happy, when they had made love to each other with a fervor which had convinced her she meant something to him, now he was talking about leaving! And the other woman? Who was she? What hold did she have over him that he couldn’t break free of?
And what of the project? If he went back to California, what would happen to “The Dark Lady”? Would he change his mind about it? But no, he had paid handsomely for it. What of herself as actress? She hadn’t signed a contract for that yet. Maybe he had decided to replace her with the gorgeous blond on the West Coast?
Zaira cursed herself for being so foolish as to trust all his promises. When it came right down to it, Brad was probably just as ruthless as Cormac. After all, he had tried to persuade Zoe Dominick to accept Cormac’s offer from Clarke Studios, as if he didn't expect her to owe him any loyalty at all.
But what possible reason could he have for that? Only one that she could think of: to make sure she was paid off handsomely, before he got her out of his life once and for all. Was he treating her as nothing more than a brief fling best forgotten before he returned to his real life in California?
And now, Zaira was getting the brush off as well, with all this talk of contracts. He had just used her, was making sure she was paid off, and then he was disappearing off to LA, never to be heard from again despite all his protestations of friendship.
Zaira felt a gnawing in her stomach that had nothing to do with passion. No, it was a cold, steely determination. She was not going to lose Brad. She refused to accept defeat that easily. Whoever that girl was, she was three thousand miles away, while Zaira was here with Brad. If she had to fight dirty as either Zaira or Zoe, she was going to make it as difficult as possible for Brad to leave her behind.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Zaira woke early in a determined frame of mind. She pinned her hair up tightly, tugging it back with a vengeance, and planned her strategy for the day. She left the house at seven. Though she heard Brad’s voice call to her, she marched out the door and down the stairs haughtily. She was not going to feel sorry for him, or oblige him any more. With any luck, the hard-to-get approach would to make him come running.
Zaira planned out her day of lectures, and decided that she could affo
rd to skip rehearsals. Brad could do the directing for a change, and it was the other members of the cast who needed the practice. Today she would go out and find a suitable dress to wear tonight. She rang Matt at his home, and told him of Brad’s plans.
“This whole situation is getting very complicated. When are you going to tell him who you really are? Surely he’s proven himself trustworthy by now?” Matt protested.
Zaira told him briefly of her altercations with Cormac over the contracts, and Matt whistled. “I wouldn’t say it means you can’t trust him, but I would watch my step. But Zaira, you are going to have to tell him the truth soon. If he finds out on his own he’s going to go through the roof. Then the whole project will be over.”
“Don’t worry. I've invested far too much time, effort and passion in this whole affair with Brad Clarke to let it all slip through my fingers,” she said grimly.
“Affair? Zaira, what are you trying to tell me?” Matt sounded surprised but also pleased for her.
“Nothing at the minute, Matt, but I’ll let you know when I know myself.”
“Well, darling, nothing would make me happier, especially after that fiasco with Jonathan, but you will be careful, won’t you.”
Zaira debated as to whether she should tell Matt the whole truth about Jonathan being back in her life as Cormac's accountant. She decided it was just too risky, and would only make him even more concerned.
“Don’t worry, I can handle myself. And as soon as the play is over on Saturday, I shall tell him. If he tries to break my contract, any of my contracts, I’ll bleed him dry,” Zaira declared.
Matt chuckled for a moment, but when he spoke again his tone was serious. “Zaira, I sympathize, but really this is most unlike you. You’ve always fought fair, no matter what.”
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