Tawny Sands

by Violet Winspear

  Janna shrank physically from such a plan. She forced herself out of the clasp of his hands and jumped hastily to her feet. 'I want to go Home ... please !'

  `You call it home?' he mocked. 'Being chained in a hotel to a typewriter?'

  `It's what I'm used to, Don Raul.'

  `Better the devil you know, eh?' He rose lazily to his feet, but his eyes were unsmiling and he didn't speak again until they were in the Rolls and speeding smoothly towards the hotel. Janna was glad he was driving fast. They had talked for a long time and it was late.

  `I am sorry my proposition does not appeal to you,' he said. 'I hoped you had a sense of adventure, and the wish to escape from the drudgery of typing silly stories in a hotel room. I can see you are a shy sort of girl, but I thought I detected a small flame of rebellion burning in you, somewhere. I must have been mistaken.'

  `Yes, senor,' she agreed. 'You must have thought me more desperate than I really am.'

  `You would have to be desperate before you agreed to help a man?'

  `I'd help anyone in real trouble or need,' she said indignantly. 'You want to use me for your own ends.'

  `And what are they, Miss Smith?'

  `You know very well. You may not wish to hurt your grandmother, who believes she has your best interests at

  heart, but to deceive her would hurt even more. Why not tell her the truth?'

  The truth can sometimes be more cruel than a white lie.' `You wanted me for your white lie, Don Raul, and I wouldn't make a very convincing one.'

  `Perhaps not,' he drawled. 'Even at fifteen Joyosa liked to be flattered and admired. You seem afraid of men.'

  `A born spinster, senor?'

  `It would seem likely, senorita.' His smile was faintly cruel as he assisted her from the car, and then suddenly he pulled her into his arms, made a captive of her before she could protest.

  The night was still around them, but for the pounding of her heart, and the chorus of cicadas in the grounds of the hotel. Shocked by his sudden embrace, she was helpless to resist as he pulled her into the shadow of the trees, deep into the velvety mimosa, so that the night scents of the garden added something primitive to the moment.

  Never in her life before had Janna felt the demanding strength in a pair of male arms, holding her close in the darkness, imparting to her every nerve her inability to escape from them.

  She looked up at him and saw the dark glitter of his eyes, and knew herself at the mercy of a man who had desert blood running hot in his veins. Women were to him like fillies to be tamed, and the devilish smile gleaming in his eyes told her that she was about to receive a sample of his taming. Her heart hammered . . . she felt the strength that could have broken her in twain . . . and then she heard him laugh very softly.

  `Let go of me !' she gasped.

  `You are trembling so much you would fall to the ground,' he mocked. 'No, before I release you I am going to teach you a little about men . . . and women.'

  `No—'

  `Yes, my little sprig of mimosa. Yes . . .' His lips came near, his breath stirred warm against her skin, his hands

  crushed her silvery slightness close against him. 'The time has to come for every girl to be kissed, and the time has come for you.'

  `I—I shall hate you

  `What, hate a man you will probably never see again after tonight?'

  CHAPTER FOUR

  HE held her slender body in a grip of steel and bending her over his arm he crushed her lips with his, holding her for long moments, compelling her surrender, sending shock-waves all through her being as he moved his lips in fierce little kisses all over her face and throat, lingering against her earlobe, his hand slipping from beneath the stole to press the silk-clad curve of her waist.

  She gasped, twisted her body in an effort to escape him, and was bruised against his hard strength.

  `Little fool,' he laughed low in his throat. 'I could crush you and there wouldn't be a soul to care. No one cares about you, do you hear me? You are flotsam on the noisy stream of Mildred's life, and she will never be concerned for you; will never care if you are lonely or tired or in need of love. You will be a little nobody all your life . . . if you don't break free of her.'

  `Y-you say these things to hurt me. You kiss me just to be cruel.' Again she tried to break away from him, but it was like being chained. She had never felt such lithe strength; nor had she ever met such ruthlessness. She felt he could break her in his hands and toss the pieces to the uncaring Mildred.

  Then abruptly he let her go, and she staggered back against the bonnet of the long silver car. She stared at him, her eyes enormous and hurt in the pale triangle of her face,

  her lips red as crushed berries. The mink stole hung limp against her dress, her hair was ruffled against her temples.

  Raul Cesar Bey regarded her in the manner of a sultan who had had his way and was now about to dismiss her.

  `It has been an unusual evening,' he said, one hand straightening his tie, the dark-red clove lost from his lapel. `I shall remember it when I am back in Morocco.'

  `Why, Don Raul,' she gathered around her the remnants of her dignity and spoke with all the coolness she could muster, 'because for once a woman wouldn't bow to your wishes?'

  `Yes, I shall remember that, among other things.' His gaze slipped over her. 'You are foolish to suppose you are worth only the crumbs from life's table. Think about it, Janna Smith. Even if you won't come with me to El Amara

  `I can't.' The words broke from her. Not at any price.'

  `Then so be it.' He spread his hands in a fatalistic gesture. `As we say in the desert, what is written in the stars must be revealed in actions. I will say goodnight, senorita.' He gave her a brief bow.

  `Yes?'

  `It was generous of you to send me the dress and slippers but I—I should like to pay for them.'

  `You would then insult me!' His eyes glittered, he took a step forward, and in quick fear of him she held the stole against her and fled to the entrance of the hotel. She didn't look back. She had no need to do so. She knew he was smiling sardonically to have put her to flight.

  She reached the suite in a rather breathless state and inserted the key in the lock of her bedroom door. She had her own entrance to the suite so she wouldn't disturb Mildred during the siesta hours, when her employer expected her to be out on some errand. Tonight she could only hope and pray that Mildred had not yet returned from the Casino.

  She entered her room and switched on the light . . . and

  at once from the adjoining room a voice called out:

  `Is that you, Smith? How late you are ! Come in here and explain yourself.'

  Janna stood petrified. Her mind seemed to go numb and she couldn't think . . . if she had been able to she would have snatched off the stole, hurled it beneath her bed and waited for a propitious moment to return it to Mildred's wardrobe. As it was she was stricken by guilt at hearing her employer's voice. Her nerves had her at their mercy, shaken as they were already by Don Raul's revelations, and the way he had kissed her.

  Before she could recover, the door swept open and Mildred marched in. She stared with hard amber eyes at her young secretary, taking in the soft disarray of her hair, the off-the-shoulder dress, and the honey stole draped against the silvery young figure.

  `My mink stole!' she hissed, and Janna flinched as Mildred stormed across to her and snatched the fur away. `You little thief ! Creeping in, all dressed up in my finery! I bet that dress is one of mine.'

  `No, it isn't.' Janna came alive again, and was surprised by her own vehemence. 'It wouldn't fit you, Mrs. Noyes, and I can show you the card that came with it. The dress was given to me . . . I'm sorry about borrowing your stole, but I haven't damaged it and I certainly meant to return it.'

  `A likely story!' Mildred's eyes were blazing with spite. `I'm going to call the police and lodge a complaint before you steal anything else. Decent people aren't safe with your sort around—'

  `Oh, don't talk rot,' Janna b
roke in. `I'm not a thief and you know it. I was a fool to borrow the stole, but I knew you wouldn't lend it to me if I asked. You're not a very charitable person, Mrs. Noyes. I've wanted to say so for a long time.'

  `Have you, my girl?' Mildred's painted fingernails dug into the fur, as if she suppressed an urge to rake Janna's white skin with them. Her own skin was sallow and flushed.

  `Well, let me tell you I've had enough of your sauce! I could get you locked up for taking my mink stole and that's a fact. You'll either apologise, or take your cards this instant.'

  Janna stared at the woman for whom she had worked so uncomplainingly; who had never said a 'thank you' for any service rendered, and who hadn't the heart to forgive a young girl for being tempted by a fur stole for a few hours. She remembered the things that Don Raul had said; his frankness in pointing out that she was unappreciated by a selfish employer, and likely to remain so if she stayed with such a woman.

  `All right, Mrs. Noyes,' she said resolutely. 'I'll take my cards and leave in the morning.'

  `If you're going, then you can go tonight,' Mildred shrilled. 'You can go to whoever gave you that dress. Cinema date, indeed! In a model from one of the best shops? You look as if butter wouldn't melt in your mouth, Smith, but I've always guessed you were out to get yourself noticed by some man. Hasn't he yet forked out for a fur? You have to do more than smile for a fur, so here's your chance. Go to him right now and say you've nowhere else to sleep tonight.'

  But you can't turn me out,' Janna gasped. ‘ ridiculous —all over a stole you never wear. All over a few home truths. I've worked hard and patiently for you, and you treat me as if I've sponged on you.'

  `I hired you to work for me,' Mildred snapped. 'Since you no longer intend to fulfil that function, then you can leave my expensive suite and go to your boy-friend. From the look of that dress he has money to spend, so go and ask him to support you. I've been a bit too generous to the likes of you, a little nobody from a charity home, and some typing pool in Piccadilly. I should have let you find- your own lodgings, not had you here to share my suite and the hotel cuisine.'

  `You had me here so you could keep me under your eye,'

  Janna threw back at her. `So you'd be sure I spent sixteen hours of the day at your beck and call, and bent over the typewriter pounding out love stories. All right, I'll go tonight, and if you find some other fool to work non-stop for you, then you'll be lucky. Not everyone is like me, Mrs. Noyes, grateful for small mercies and crumbs.'

  She smiled, suddenly and rather recklessly. Crumbs from life's table, eh? For a change she would see about getting a little cake instead; it obviously didn't pay to be humble, no one seemed grateful if you worked hard for them. They merely sat on you, waited the chance to humiliate you, and thought you too much of a mouse to make a bolt for freedom.

  `Perhaps you'll get my stamp card while I pack my belongings, Mrs. Noyes?'

  Mildred's angry flush deepened. `I'd never have thought you such a little chit,' she gasped. 'You might have some fool in tow at the moment—though what he can see in you I just can't imagine—but men soon feel like a change of diet, and then you'll be out on your ear, and it won't do you a serap of good to come running back to me. I'm leaving the Cote d'Azur, so you'll be all on your own.'

  Mildred spoke with such spiteful complacency that Janna just had to retaliate; she had to let the woman know that once she walked out of this suite it would be for good. Mildred hoped to scare her. She actually believed that she could make her mousey secretary beg to be kept on in a job that had become hateful to her. Janna couldn't stay! Anything was preferable to being one more day in this spiteful woman's employ.

  `As it happens, Mrs. Noyes, I have been offered a situation in another country and I expect to be leaving fairly soon. Despite your suspicions I am not involved in an affair.' Janna tilted her chin `I'm sorry again that I borrowed your fur. It was a foolish thing to do and has taught me a very salutary lesson . . . in future I shan't expect or want kindness from anyone. I used to think it would be

  nice to find affection, after being deprived of it most of my life, but it's just a mirage. Everyone is out to please themselves. Self-interest is the byword these days and I've decided to make it mine as well. I'm fed up with being a mouse. From now on I shall scratch back when other people are catty to me.'

  `You?' Mildred gave a laugh. 'You're a born loser, Smith. You've no talent, except as a typist. You've no beauty, no allure, nothing the men go for. You're nondescript compared to the other girls one sees on the Riviera.' Mildred flicked her eyes up and down Janna's slim figure. 'Men like curves and vivacity. They like to be flirted with and you wouldn't know where to begin. I bet this new job is about as exciting as a wet Monday. More typing in store, Smith?'

  Janna longed to retort that in her new 'job' she was unlikely to see a typewriter, let alone handle one for hours on end, but on reflection she thought it wise to mislead Mildred Noyes. It wouldn't do for her to start snooping.

  `As you said, Mrs. Noyes, I have little talent for anything else.' She swung on her heel and entered her room, where she began to pack her single suitcase. She would go down to Reception and book a room for the night; one of the cheaper sort. In the morning she would enquire the number of Don Raul's suite and tell him she had changed her mind about accepting his proposition. If he had changed his mind about taking her to Morocco, then she would be obliged to seek secretarial work, or maybe she would be bold and apply for a reception job in one of the many hotels on the Riviera. It would make a change, and in any event she could always find kitchen work if nothing else was available for Janna Smith, the orphan girl who had never known her real name and had been supplied with one by the Directors of the Essex Home For Destitute Children.

  She took off the silver dress and slippers and replaced them with a suit and casuals. She ran a comb through her hair, snapped the locks of her case, and returned to the sitting-room. The room was empty. Her stamp card lay on

  the table, and she stowed it away in her bag. The door to Mildred's bedroom was firmly closed—the final snub, no goodbye for Janna.

  Janna shrugged her shoulders and let herself out of the suite. She made for the lift, feeling no regrets at having quit her job. It was inconvenient to be turned out at one o'clock in the morning, but she wouldn't be refused a room.

  The night clerk at the reception desk looked at her with suspicious eyes. 'We are all booked up,' he said coldly. `There is not even a modest priced room available, miss. This is the busy season, you understand.'

  He didn't know her, being the night clerk. He had not seen her with Mrs. Noyes, and Janna was obliged to tell him that she had left Madam's employ and been told to find other accommodation.

  He looked unsympathetic. 'Most of our rooms and suites are booked in advance, and I am afraid I can't help you.'

  `Could I spend the night in the lounge?' Janna asked. 'I wouldn't be any bother—'

  `It is against regulations, miss. It is not permitted to allow the public rooms to be used at night. I am sorry.' He spread his hands, but was plainly not in sympathy with a girl who got herself dismissed from the employ of one of the hotel's wealthy clients. As usual, Mrs. Noyes was in the right because she was rich. Janna was the one under a cloud. She must walk out of the hotel and try to find a room elsewhere ... and it was so late. The other hotels might be fully booked, and she didn't fancy spending the night on the beach.

  As she stood hesitant, the clerk turned to answer a call on the switchboard, and obeying instinct Janna spun the register towards her and scanned the names and room numbers. A certain distinguished name leapt at her and before the clerk turned round again she hastened to the stairs, ignoring the lift, and ran all the way to the third floor.

  She was crazy to do this, but there was no one else she

  could turn to. She pressed the bell of Don Raul's suite and waited with a thumping heart for him to open the door. Several minutes ticked by and she forced herself to ring the bell again.


  All was silent along the carpeted corridor. Not a sound but the distant chirr of cicadas in the hotel gardens. What a situation to be in ! Yet she would rather turn to the dangerous Spaniard than return to Mildred Noyes. She could face anything but that woman's crow of triumph.

  Every nerve in her body gave a jolt as the door suddenly swept open and Don Raul confronted her, clad in a dark silk dressing-gown, his black hair ruffled from his pillow, and an amazed look in his dark eyes as they took her in.

  He quirked an eyebrow at the suitcase she carried. 'You are going away and have come at this odd hour to bid me farewell?' he asked.

  `I've been turned out by Mildred,' she blurted, 'and the clerk hasn't a room I can book for the night. I—I don't know what to do. It's so late and I don't fancy walking the streets—'

  His eyes narrowed, then he put out a hand and jerked her inside his suite. He closed the door, and she stood breathless in front of his tall figure.

  `I thought you might persuade the clerk to let me spend the night in the hotel lounge. You have influence, senor. I'm just a foolish girl who has lost her job.'

  `You are in a pickle,' he mused. 'What happened? Did Madam pounce on you when you arrived home? Did you pluck up the nerve to defy her and got dismissed for daring to speak up for yourself?'

  Janna nodded. 'That's almost exactly what happened.' `Almost? Is there more?'

  `I—I told her I had another situation to go to. I said I'd be leaving the Riviera altogether.'

  `And she told you to leave tonight, eh?'

  `In a manner of speaking. She was terribly annoyed.'

  `No doubt,' he drawled. 'To lose a willing runabout

  would annoy her. It amuses me to picture her face when you actually packed your bag and walked out.'