by Susan Lewis
Kate nudged Ellamarie and nodded towards a couple who were passing. “Prince Dimitri of Yugoslavia,” she whispered. “Isn’t he simply divine?”
Ellamarie’s eyes came out on stalks.
Indeed, the rich and famous were out in force: aristocrats, pop stars, actors, businessmen. The champagne corks were popping all over the room, the lights were low, and the music floated through from the ballroom.
Ashley soon became in grave danger of finding herself on the wrong side of Robert Blackwell’s girlfriend, as Robert Blackwell was doing very little to hide his desire for Ashley. But the more champagne Ashley consumed, the more reckless she became, until she knew it wouldn’t be long before she succumbed to his desire.
Ellamarie was whisked off her feet by a “Greek God”, making the others laugh as, disappearing into the ballroom, she threw a look of pure lust over her shoulder.
Jenneen stood on one side, hardly daring to move. Her eyes flicked over the many faces, designer gowns, glitter and jewels. There was so much noise in the room she could harldy hear anything anyone was saying. She looked at the curtain beside her, and was tempted to disappear behind it. She hadn’t wanted to come, and now she was here she regretted giving in. She was afraid of what she might do. She was afraid that at any moment Mrs Green might take over, and disgrace her. She had no control over her now, she could emerge at any moment. She looked around again and half expected to see Matthew’s face in among the crowd. She hadn’t seen or heard from him since that terrible scene they had had, and his silence frightened her even more than his threats.
Shrieks of laughter from the other side of the room made her look up. A fountain had sprung to life in the corner. It was a fountain of champagne. She looked at her empty glass. Well, why not? She couldn’t stand there all night, after all.
As she weaved her way through the crowd, she listened to the little snippets of conversation as she passed by.
“. . . the photographs from Cannes, darling,” said one, “they were . . .”
“. . . we had the car stolen, and all the luggage was gone, haw! haw! haw!” laughed another. Jenneen glanced at him in surprise.
“. . . they float in July. Buy! I’m telling you. Buy!”
As she approached the fountain, Jenneen felt very alone. She looked at the crowd that was grouped around the fountain and was unsure of what to do. Feeling that someone was staring at her she looked up. A pair of blue eyes were regarding her with a lazy interest. She recognized him immediately. It was Paul Deane. She didn’t actually know him, of course, but that he played cricket for England, she did know.
She smiled.
“That’s better,” he said, taking her glass. “Allow me.”
She waited while he filled the glass from the fountain.
“Let me introduce myself,” he said.
“I know who you are,” she answered. “Though I have to admit I’ve never seen you play.”
“I should be hurt,” he smiled. “And don’t I know you from somewhere too? Your face seems familiar.”
“Jenneen Grey,” she said, holding out her hand.
“Of course. My wife watches you every week.”
Jenneen raised an eyebrow, and looked around.
“She’s not here. At least, not yet.” He lifted his glass and tapped it against hers. “Here’s to you.”
“Thank you,” she replied, her eyes beginning to dance. “And to you.”
He was even more good-looking than he appeared in his whites. His blond hair curled round his collar, and his lean tanned face smiled in an ironical sort of way.
“Why so sad?” he said, leading her away from the fountain.
Jenneen looked at him in surprise.
“You looked so unhappy, alone in a crowd, so to speak. You brought out all the protective male instinct in me.”
“Do men still get that?”
“Of course. I’m surprised you doubt it.”
She shrugged.
“You know, you reminded me of a daisy, you could so easily have been crushed. Are you ephemeral, Jenneen?”
“Are you sure you’re a cricketer?”
“So they tell me. But being a sportsman, you know, doesn’t make one immune to the nicer things in life. The special things in life. I suspect, Jenneen Grey, that you are very special.”
“And I suspect, Paul Deane, that you are flirting ourtrageously with me.”
His look was one of mock surprise. “Do you blame me?”
She laughed. “Now I can hardly answer that, can I?”
“Did you come alone?” he asked, running his fingers across her hair.
“Not exactly.”
“Not exactly? Does that mean you’ve mislaid your escort for the moment? Or does it mean you came by taxi?”
“It means I came with some friends, who are all dancing at the moment.”
“Paul! Darling!” Jenneen turned to see a beautiful woman, the same blonde curls as Paul’s, and dark humorous eyes, bearing down upon them. She was obviously delighted to see him.
“Vicky!” Paul’s face lit up.
“I didn’t know you were coming,” she said. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I don’t tell you everything I do.” He looked at Jenneen, and saw that she was watching them curiously.
“Jenneen, allow me to introduce Victoria Deane, my cousin. Vicky, meet Jenneen Grey.”
“Hello,” said Vicky, taking Jenneen’s hand. “It’s so nice to meet you.”
“And to meet you.” said Jenneen.
“You are a little bit of a surprise,” said Vicky. “You are so much smaller than you seem on TV. Oh, I’m sorry,” she said, covering her mouth, “I hope I haven’t offended you.”
Jenneen smiled. “Not at all.”
For no accountable reason she liked this woman on sight. Her blonde hair was a little chaotic, and she had an air about her that made her appear to be in a rush. But her smile was soft, and genuine, and her eyes sparkled with interest.
She took Paul by the arm. “I expect he’s been trying to sweep you off your feet, hasn’t he?”
“I hadn’t got that far yet,” he said.
“Oh look!” cried Vicky. “A champagne fountain! Be right back,” and she went off to fill a glass for herself.
“Completely nuts!” said Paul. “And I adore her.” He reached out to take Jenneen’s glass. “Would you like to dance?”
A surge of panic almost overwhelmed her, and her fingers tightened round the stem of her glass as she opened her mouth to say no. But at the last minute she managed to pull herself together, and straining to keep her smile in place she followed him into the ballroom. Inside she was aching with fear as she told herself that no matter what happened she must not try to seduce this man, not now, not ever.
As they started to dance, Jenneen saw Ashley go floating by in the arms of Robert Blackwell. And there was Ellamarie, still swaying from side to side in the arms of the Adonis, listening to what he was saying, and giggling.
Robert Blackwell looked down into Ashley’s eyes, and ran the backs of his fingers across her breast. It was the third time he had done it and her nipple was straining hard against the flimsy material of her dress. She looked up into his face, her lips moist and slightly parted.
“I am going to make love to you this evening, Ashley, you know that, don’t you?” he whispered.
She closed her eyes as his mouth pressed gently against hers. She knew she had had too much to drink, but she was past caring. His sexuality was overpowering, and she moulded her body closer to his feeling the thrill of his hardening penis as it pressed against her.
As he pulled away she looked up at him, waiting for him to speak, but he was looking past her.
“Sean!” he cried. “I thought you were in the States.”
“Flew over earlier than we intended.”
Ashley turned round in disbelief. She would recognize that voice anywhere. She almost melted as she looked into those laughing eyes, and Sean
Connery chuckled.
Kate was watching her with envy. What she wouldn’t give to meet Sean Connery. Joel found this amusing, but was in no position to make the introduction, so he led her back into the next room, and fetched her another glass of champagne.
“There’s someone over there I have to see,” he said. “Don’t move, I’ll be right back.”
Kate was a bit put out that he didn’t take her with him, but there was so much going on around her, she was content to stand and watch for a while.
Ellamarie was laughing up into the face of the Adonis. “I don’t believe you,” she said.
“It’s true. I have seen everything you’ve ever done,” and he tried to pull her closer. “You are the most beautiful creature God, in his wisdom, has ever created.”
“Oh, I don’t think I would go quite that far.”
“I’d go much further.”
“Please, don’t,” she said, covering his mouth with her fingers. “I’m not sure I can take any more.”
“I watch you every night.” He took her hand and kissed it. “Every night. I feel like I know you. Like I know every inch of you. I’ve kept everything that’s ever been written about you, every picture that’s ever been taken of you.”
“You’re kidding me.”
“I could show you, if you let me.”
She laughed a little nervously. There was something about his manner and what he was saying that made her uncomfortable. To be complimented and flattered was one thing. But to be adored, idolised even, by a total stranger, well, it sent shivers down her spine. He was watching her closely, his pale eyes almost smothering her face, and she looked away.
“Don’t,” he said, pulling her close, and he started to cover her face with light kisses. He lifted her hair from her neck, and gently kissed that too. His hands were stroking her back, tantalising her, and she could feel his breath, warm and moist on her skin.
“Please, don’t,” she protested, weakly, and tried to push him away.
He looked into her eyes, and she thought his expression curious, odd even. “I want to kiss you all over, just like that,” he whispered. “Every inch of you.” As he smiled the light in his eyes gleamed, almost hungrily, belying the softness of his voice. He bent his head to hers, and ran his tongue across her open mouth.
“Please,” she said, “you’re embarrassing me.” She wished that Bob was here so that he could rescue her from this strange man.
“Let me take you somewhere, where we can be alone.” He took her hand and, unable to stop herself, she began to follow him out of the room. She watched him as he walked in front of her, and wondered why she was following him. Why was she allowing this stranger to take her away, where he could be alone with her, and . . .
“Ellamarie!”
Ellamarie swung round to see Kate waving at her. The Adonis tightened his grip on her hand, but she pulled away.
“Excuse me,” she said. “That’s a friend of mine over there. I really must go and see if she’s all right.”
“You can see that she’s all right,” he said. “You don’t need to go to her.”
“No, really, I must. Please, let me go.”
He kept hold of her hand. “I’ll be waiting, Ellamarie,” he whispered.
Ellamarie tugged her hand free and turned abruptly towards Kate. The Adonis watched her as she almost ran across the room, but Ellamarie didn’t look back.
“Thank God you were here,” said Ellamarie. “I dread to think what might have happened if you hadn’t called out.”
“You’re complaining?” said Kate. “He’s divine.”
“He’s weird!” Ellamarie shuddered. “Where’s Joel?”
“Over there, talking to someone, don’t ask me who. But have you seen Ashley? She’s only talking to Sean Connery.”
“Are you kidding? Where? Where is he?”
“In there.” Kate pointed towards the ballroom.
“Can’t we be introduced as well?”
“I think not, unfortunately. She’s with Robert Blackwell, honoured guest and all that.”
“Pity. Seen Jenneen anywhere?”
“Thought I saw her dancing with Paul Deane – you know, the cricketer. My guess is she’s up to no good by now.”
Ellamarie laughed. “It’ll be what she needs.”
“Has she said anything to you? About Matthew?”
“Not a word. All I know is he’s not living there any more. Do you know what happened?”
“Not a clue. I asked Ashley earlier, but she doesn’t know either.”
“I wonder why she won’t talk about it?”
Kate shrugged. “Well, Paul Deane was really making her laugh when I last saw them, so at least that’s something.”
“Isn’t he married?”
“Mmm, I think so. But when did that ever stop anyone?”
Ellamarie threw her a look. “Touché,” she grinned. “How are things going with Joel? Did he say why he hasn’t called for ages?”
“Not a word – sssh! Here he comes,” said Kate, her face lighting up as she looked past Ellamarie.
“No one swept you off your feet yet, Ellamarie?” Joel grinned, planting a kiss on Kate’s cheek.
“Why, are you offering?”
“Of course.” He turned round and Kate noticed that someone was making their way across the room to join them. “Oh no,” she muttered, under her breath.
“Ladies,” said Joel, “I believe you have already met Conrad Frazier. Conrad, Ellamarie and Kate.”
Conrad nodded abruptly. His manners haven’t improved any, thought Kate and Ellamarie in unison, and they both gave cold nods in return.
“Ready, Ellamarie?” said Joel, offering her his arm, and he took her off to the dance floor.
Kate looked at Conrad, but Conrad was watching the people at the fountain, pouring champagne into their shoes. He laughed as a very drunken, astonishingly beautiful woman disentangled herself from the crowd and teetered her way towards him.
Kate found herself studying Conrad’s face as he lifted the straps of the woman’s dress back onto her shoulders and smiled down into her eyes. Despite her dislike of him, Kate felt her heart turn over. Dear God, he was so handsome. The woman kissed him, full on the mouth, and unashamedly Kate watched as he kissed her back,
“Candy, darling,” she heard him whisper, “I think you’ve had a little too much.”
“Oh nonsense,” Candy slurred, in a Southern drawl, and she staggered back to the champagne fountain. Conrad turned back to Kate, who blushed as she realized that she hadn’t taken her eyes off him once. He smiled at her, and involuntarily she smiled back.
“What brings you here?” she asked, having to shout over the cacophony of laughter coming from the fountain.
“I was invited,” he said, taking a sip of champagne.
She raised her eyebrows. “I gathered that. But don’t you live in New York?”
“Sure,” he said. “But I had business to attend to in London, so I thought I’d combine the two.”
“Julian isn’t here, is he?” Kate asked, quickly.
“Not that I know of.”
“Thank God for that.”
Conrad seemed amused. “Don’t tell me, yours is another heart broken by the devastating Arbrey-Nelmes charm?”
“Actually, no!” Kate snapped.
Conrad shrugged, and seemed to lose interest in her.
“Are you always so rude?” she said, walking round to stand in front of him.
“Me?”
“Yes, you!”
He seemed to think about this for a minute. “Yes,” he said, finally. “Yes, I probably am.”
“Don’t you care about offending people?”
“Not really. These son of parties bore me, and so do the people that come to them.”
“Of all the . . .”
“Kate!” cried Ashley, coming towards her. “You’ll never guess who I’ve just been talking to.”
“Sean Connery,” said Kate, tur
ning round, “and I could kill you. If I don’t kill him first,” she added under her breath, jerking her head towards Conrad.
Ashley paled as she saw him, and he grinned. He held out his hand towards her and said, “I’m afraid I’ve forgotten your name.”
The flash of indignation that shot through Asley’s eyes did not go unnoticed, but it only seemed to amuse him further.
“Conrad Frazier,” he said, introducing himself.
“Yes, I know who you are.” Ashley ignored his hand.
“Are you going to remind me who you are? Besides being my partner’s mistress.”
Ashley gasped. How dare he! She turned her back on him. Kate took her by the arm and they walked away from him.
Conrad watched them go, a thoughtful smile playing around his lips, and then turned to see what had caused the shrieks of delight behind him. Candida was pouring tiny rivers of champagne over her naked body. As he reached her side, she looked up into his face, as if waiting for his kiss, then with a hiccup, punctuated by a long sigh, she collapsed into his arms.
Bob pulled his car to a halt in the country lane, and switched off the engine. Looking out along the drive he could see the bright lights from the house glowing through the trees. He knew that Ellamarie was inside, that was why he had come. So why had he stopped now? Why didn’t he just drive in, and go and find her?
He turned on the radio, but the sound irritated him, and he turned it off again.
He leaned back against the head-rest. What a bloody mess this was all turning out to be. He didn’t know what was happening to his life, or what he wanted from it any more. He had tried to do some work on the Queen of Cornwall, but he had been unable to concentrate. Visions of their faces seemed to block everything else from his mind. Ellamarie, shouting at him, trying to hide the hurt and bewilderment she felt inside. Linda, silent, trying to be strong, but he could see the pain and confusion she was in. And in both their eyes he could see the love they had for him. And his heart was weighted with the love he felt for them.
What was he going to do? What could he do? All he knew was that this couldn’t go on. It wasn’t fair on either of them, and he couldn’t cope with it much longer himself. Had he come here with the intention of telling Ellamarie it was over? Or had he come here because he couldn’t stand being away from her? The confusion was twisting his mind, and nowhere could he find the answers he needed. Whatever he did, someone was going to be hurt. And he would be hurt too. But he didn’t care about himself, he only cared about them. Which one of them was it to be? Whom should he walk away from, and never see again?
