by Jane Corrie
Serena almost grinned; he had chosen not to believe her again. A few inquiries would ascertain Roger's existence and his standing in the business world, not to mention the fact that Serena Belmont was a person in her own right and not an alias.
'Roger Alton,' she replied, her eyes squarely meeting the ice flecked ones carefully watching her.
His brows rose sardonically. 'You do fly high, don't you?' he commented sarcastically. 'I suppose the poor devil's well and truly hooked.'
An indignant Serena felt a start of surprise that he had heard of Roger, and she chose to ignore his other comments. She would make an extra fuss of Roger, she thought, when she saw him on Saturday, and she even felt it possible to forgive his encouraging her mother. As for this domineering character… 'I can't say it's been nice meeting you,' she snapped as she got up to leave arid held her hand out for her passport. 'My passport, if you please.'
'But I don't please,' he said in a soft deadly voice. 'You very nearly brought it off, didn't you? I'm going to take a leaf out of your book. You've had a change of heart, Miss Tonetti—we're engaged,' he said, smiling unpleasantly at Serena's white face and wide eyes echoing the shock his words had produced.
He nodded grimly. 'Yes, I would go that far to make you pay your debt to your grandmother. I'm not so easily discouraged as you'll soon find out. So your friend arrives breathing fire and brimstone— let him! There's not much he can do about it, is there? It's happening all the time, isn't it?' he said casually.
Somehow Serena found her voice. 'You're mad I' she said huskily. 'Roger will never believe a story like that.' She shook her head as if to dispel the cotton wool feeling of unreality. 'For goodness' sake,' she said wearily, 'if you haven't a better card to play than that, I should forget it—it won't work. Why not for once accept defeat? In spite of what you think I am not Lisa Tonetti and I do intend to leave on Saturday.'
He leaned back in his chair and folding his arms across his powerful chest surveyed her through narrowed eyes. 'Oh, but he will,' he said silkily. 'Especially when a few unpleasant facts come to light. I'm considered a good catch, you know, and can more than match him in the financial stakes.'
Serena wondered whether it was her imagination or not, but the captain's quarters seemed to be getting smaller and the man sitting in front of her, larger. Her eyes flicked nervously towards him as he sat calmly watching her much as a cat watched a mouse it had trapped. She felt the cold feeling run down her spine and managed to suppress a shiver. He would enjoy watching her quake. With a mental effort she pulled herself together, that diabolical Costume he wore hardly helped either, but she wasn't going to be intimidated by that.
'Why do you hate her so much?' she asked suddenly.
Jordan's face had a closed look about it as he answered coldly, 'Hate? Oh, no; hate is an emotion, Miss Tonetti, and where you're concerned I have no emotions. A motive, yes; to make you pay for the misery you caused your grandparents.' His eyes met hers inexorably. 'So why don't you take your own advice and give in gracefully?' He grinned satanically. 'I can well understand your refusal to acknowledge your name; it's a well known psychological fact that the mind rejects what it doesn't want to remember. I do realise how hard it must be for you particularly as it appears you've now turned—er—respectable.' He gave her a glinting look. 'Not only respectable,' he went on smoothly, 'but with a rosy future in front of you as the wife of a successful financier.' He shook his head mockingly. 'It couldn't have happened at a worse time, could it? Being found out, I mean. You have my deepest sympathy.'
'Sympathy!' echoed Serena, almost choking over the word. 'You don't know the meaning of the word!'
Unable to bear another minute in his presence, she got up quickly and turned towards the cabin door, but he was there before her, covering the distance between them in seconds. Serena could hardly credit that a man of his size could move so swiftly.
He held her arm in a painful grip. 'Oh, no, you don't,' he bit out. 'Is this the way to behave with your beloved?' he jeered. 'Remember, my sweet, it was love at first sight.'
His eyes narrowed as he traced the delicate lines of her features. 'A great pity,' he murmured. 'You look so innocent too. You really are one of the devil's angels, aren't you?'
Serena could feel the magnetism of the man who stood so close beside her. He was so tall he had to bend his head to avoid contact with the low oak rafters, bringing his face dangerously close to hers. Her eyes fell on the well-moulded lips and she wondered what his kiss was like, then blushed as she realised where these thoughts were leading her.
'So we can still blush, can we?' he said hatefully. 'Or is it temper? Of course, it must be. You're way beyond the blushing stage, aren't you?'
Serena tried to break the compelling hold he had on her arm, but he only tightened his hold. She winced as the steel-like fingers bit into her arm. It appeared she had lost hands down, nothing she could say would convince Jordan Kerr he had made a mistake and yet she had to try, Roger was not a fool and not likely to be taken in by the ridiculous story of an engagement to someone she barely knew. She ignored his taunts and the temptation to slap that arrogant face; she was in enough trouble without asking for more. Managing to keep her voice calm, she said, 'I still say you'll have to think again. An engagement after only two days is hardly feasible, is it?' She swallowed. 'Roger mustn't come here,' she added quickly. 'You must see that.'
This produced his grim smile again and his hand relaxed his hold on her arm. Serena quickly drew away from him. 'Most perceptive of you,' he sneered. 'Only it's a little longer than two days, isn't it?' he went on silkily. 'You arrived on Saturday, didn't you?' He acknowledged her start grimly. 'I've done a little checking, you see. Oh, you kept well away from the other guests, and it's not hard to guess why. There was no point in advertising your presence before you'd done a little research and found out if it was really worth your while to attempt a reconciliation. What had you in mind? A touch for the trousseau outlay? They had been very generous in the past, hadn't they?'
Serena's fingers clenched; she was finding it hard to believe that anyone could be as bad as Jordan Kerr was painting Lisa Tonetti. It appeared to be a fixation of his and his vehemence didn't really justify the cause. So he was protecting Mrs Tonetti because he was fond of her—or was there a little more to it? Serena was sure there was.
Jordan Kerr's smooth voice cut into her musings. 'Going back to your Roger I find myself for once in agreement with you, for very different reasons, of course. Mine being the welfare of a very old friend; yours—self-preservation.' His eyes narrowed. 'You're very sure of him at the moment, aren't you? And I'm pretty certain you don't give a damn about the man himself; it's what he can give you that matters, isn't it?'
Serena flushed. He meant that she didn't love Roger, and she didn't, but she couldn't very well argue that one through.
Watching her reaction he nodded, grimly satisfied. 'Very smart of you not to attempt to deny it. It seems you do give me credit for not being stupid enough to believe otherwise.'
He was silent for a few seconds and Serena hoped that she had managed to persuade him to let her go. The door was so close, yet so far, she knew if she made a move towards it she would receive that painful hold again. He hadn't finished with her yet.
'I'll have the airport watched,' he said abruptly. 'If Alton comes, as I presume he will, we face him together.'
'T—together…?' faltered Serena.
Jordan Kerr gave her a look of distaste. 'Together,' he confirmed. 'We can hardly expect him to accept the story without your presence, can we?'
Serena felt as if she were in a fast-moving river and slowly going under. If Roger came, that would be that; she wasn't that good an actress and the whole charade would be exposed. She shook her head vehemently. 'No!' she exclaimed. 'It won't do.'
Jordan Kerr studied her insolently. 'It must,' he sneered. 'And don't work out any schemes for evading the issue, either. But then you're smart, aren't you? No doubt you've alr
eady worked out the penalty for failure. Not only will you lose the chance of a rich husband—if things work out for you, that is, but you'll find yourself on the wanted list. I shall immediately press charges against you. When it's over…' his face hardened and Serena knew he was referring to Mrs Tonetti's death, 'you can patch things up with him always providing he hasn't found anyone else, he doesn't sound too fussy, at that. So you might consider you're getting off lightly when you stop to think about it. A few months of what you'll probably consider hard labour after the kind of life you've been leading, at the beck and call of your grandmother, and I'll be around often enough to see you keep to the bargain.
'Nothing more,' he added disdainfully, 'will be required of you, and don't start getting ideas of staying on and capitalizing on our association, will you? When the time comes I want you off my land. You'll be pushed on to the first plane to touch down. Alton's welcome to you.'
CHAPTER EIGHT
For the rest of that day Jordan Kerr was Serena's constant companion. The only breathing space she was given came when she accompanied Mrs Tonetti back to the chalet to dress for the ball later that evening, and by that time the whole of the island must have been aware of Jordan Kerr's single- minded preference for Serena's company.
It was not easy for her to accept the role so unceremoniously thrown at her and on one or two occasions she was tersely directed to look as if she were enjoying herself, as he caustically pointed out in a low undertone, 'There's no pot of gold on the end of this rainbow; but think of the penalty you'll incur if you fail.'
Nor was it easy trying to meet Mrs Tonetti's twinkling eyes with an answering smile in hers, and it was taken for granted Serena would be staying longer than the original period. Apart from a knowing smile and an 'I told you so' look, nothing was said.
Quite apart from the problem of Roger's appearance on the island, Serena had her mother to consider, and both as yet were unaware of the fact that she would not be on the Saturday flight. All chance of slipping away to catch the flight was now lost; Jordan Kerr held her passport and was not likely to give it back to her until his conditions were fulfilled.
To save her mother worry Serena cabled her hotel telling her she would not be arriving Saturday, adding 'letter following'. Not that the letter would ever be written; it wouldn't be necessary—not after Roger was acquainted with the news!
Serena's spirits were low as she selected the dress she would wear for the ball, and as she slipped the frothy white organdie gown on she recalled Jordan Kerr's scathing remarks on her being one of the devil's angels. Her soft mouth twisted as she met her reflection in the dressing table mirror. If she remembered rightly, the gown had been christened 'temptation' by its aspiring creator. Not, she thought, as her eyes traced the clinging top and billowing skirt, that Jordan Kerr would be 'tempted'. Despite all outward appearance of his attentiveness, he had adroitly managed to keep his distance as far as physical contact was concerned, and Serena, recalling the painful hold he had clamped on her on the ship, was devoutly grateful for this small mercy; she was also grateful for the fact that the 'engagement' plan had not been put into operation, although she knew it was only held in abeyance to be used as and when necessary to ward Roger off.
As she picked up her evening bag, Serena tried to imagine herself gazing up into Jordan Kerr's face with the adoration and love that would be required to convince Roger that she had fallen hopelessly in love with the masterful owner of the island, but found her imagination didn't stretch that far! It might have helped if she had liked the man, but she heartily disliked him. Quite apart from the rough treatment he had meted out to her, she was sure she wouldn't have liked him anyway, even if they had met in different circumstances. He was too sure of himself and too used to getting his own way. No middle way for such as he, she thought bitterly. There was but one way, Jordan Kerr's way; right or wrong, and in her case—wrong.
Serena was half-way to the lounge to join Mrs Tonetti when the thought hit her making her stop suddenly in her tracks. The engagement! She frowned; really, her wits must have gone begging! Once it was announced Mrs Tonetti would have to confess to Jordan Kerr that Serena was not her granddaughter! He hadn't believed Serena, but he would have to believe Mrs Tonetti! Her thoughts whirled on; as much as she dreaded Roger's arrival his appearance now was her only salvation.
Her frown deepened as she thought of the humiliation Mrs Tonetti would suffer should her deception ever get to Mrs Simpson's ears, then she relaxed slightly; Jordan Kerr might not care what happened to her, but he did care for Mrs Tonetti; he would keep the information to himself—and Myrna? Serena's eyes narrowed speculatively; she hadn't been sure before but she was now. Myrna knew nothing—she couldn't do! The knowledge gave her a little shock and for a moment her attitude towards Jordan Kerr softened, then her lips firmed. He was not a fool; knowledge like that in the hands of a jealous woman was pure dynamite! He wouldn't risk it and remembering Myrna's vicious glances in her direction, Serena heartily agreed with him.
Her step was a little lighter as she joined Mrs Tonetti in the lounge and noticing her pallor commented, 'Don't you think you ought to give this evening a miss? I'm sure Jordan will understand.'
Mrs Tonetti smiled. 'It's only excitement, dear,' she said. 'So tiring when you get old, you know.' She glanced down at her finely veined hands that trembled a little in her lap. 'Perhaps it would be wiser to stay and rest. However, I shall only do so on your promise that you attend—not,' she added mischievously, 'that Jordan will hear of you doing anything else.'
Serena smiled at her. 'You have my word,' she promised, then she fetched a footstool and placed it under Mrs Tonetti's feet. 'I'll just tell Molly you're staying,' she said, and walked to the door.
'No, dear, not just yet. I want to talk to you; you can tell Molly just before you leave.'
There was something about Mrs Tonetti's expression as she made this request that alerted Serena. Had she decided to tell Jordan the truth? Serena's hopes soared—she would catch that plane after all!
'Come and sit down, dear,' coaxed Mrs Tonetti in the sort of voice that suggested that she had bad news for her, and Serena wondered whether she had thought Jordan would lose interest in her once he knew the truth and was preparing her for it.
'I want to tell you about Jordan,' the old lady began hesitantly. Serena could have cheered; she had decided to confess! However, it soon became apparent that no such thought had entered her mind. A very deflated Serena listened to what Mrs Tonetti was telling her. 'Don't get too fond of him, dear,' she said slowly. 'Not at least until you're sure, that is. You see, I know him very well, and although he doesn't deliberately set out to hurt anyone, I'm afraid it's quite possible it might happen to you.' She sighed. 'Not that I've any sympathy for the others; as a very wealthy man he's a target for the fortune-hunters,' she lifted her hands expressively. 'And there's no denying he's a very good-looking man,' she half-smiled at this comment. 'I'm not too old to appreciate that,' she murmured, then sighed again. 'It's very sad, but I don't think he's ever stopped loving Maria. They were almost engaged, you know, and she died. She was only nineteen and the loveliest thing you ever saw—blonde, with huge baby-blue eyes.' Her voice softened as she spoke of the girl and Serena sensed that she had been very fond of her.
In spite of herself Serena was interested. 'How did she die?' she asked quietly.
Mrs Tonetti started as if she had been brought back from her memories as indeed she had. 'Drowned, dear.' She frowned. 'No one knows why she was swimming in that particular spot. It was a well-known danger zone, the currents are treacherous, and Maria should have known it was dangerous; she had been coming to the island for years. Her parents were close friends of Jordan's parents and although they lived in New York they were always here for weekends.' Once again she lapsed into reverie and Serena wanted to hear more, so she gently prompted her.
'How long ago did this happen, Mrs Tonetti?' she asked.
Mrs Tonetti frowned and concentrat
ed on the question. 'Seven years, I think,' she answered musingly, and looked at Serena sadly. 'He's never bothered since to really look at any woman, not in that light, I mean. Oh, he flirts with them, of course, he's human after all, but they're just ships that pass in the night as far as he's concerned. You know, sometimes I wonder if he resents them because they are living and his love's dead.' She shook her head slowly. 'So you see, my dear, why you must be on your guard. He wouldn't deliberately set out to hurt you, he wouldn't see that you're not like the others, and the fact that he thinks you're my granddaughter wouldn't make the slightest difference either, I'm afraid. So do be careful, Serena. Hold on to your heart until you're certain he's not just having a fling with you.'
There was not the slightest danger of Serena being in any such predicament, but she appreciated Mrs Tonetti's confidential advice. For one thing it explained why his persecution of her amounted to a vendetta! Serena's fingers clenched into a fist. She couldn't wait for Roger's arrival and to be able to tell Jordan Kerr just what she thought of him!
The cablegram came just as Serena was leaving. It was from her mother and just stated that she would be arriving at noon the following day. Serena pushed the message quickly into her bag, and hoped Mrs Tonetti, who had gone to bed earlier, had not seen the messenger arrive. It was just another complication for Serena to deal with. For goodness' sake—why her mother and not Roger? She simply couldn't see Roger allowing her mother to chase after her; he would consider it his duty.
Stepping out on to the tiled porchway of the chalet, Serena watched the Rolls glide to a graceful halt beside her and her spirits sank as she saw who had collected her. He didn't even bother to get out but leaned over and opened the door for her, even
Jake, she thought scathingly, had more manners than his autocratic employer.
As she sat stiffly beside him she felt the slight rustle of the paper under her fingers. Well, there was no time like the present, she thought. 'My mother's arriving tomorrow,' she announced airily. 'Try convincing her I'm Lisa Tonetti!'
