by Helen Brooks
It wasn’t until she had been lowered on to the edge of the chair she had vacated a few frantic minutes ago that Fabia rallied sufficiently to raise her eyes, realising that the same voice that had taken charge of the screaming wife so capably earlier was now taking charge of her.
She froze in horror as Alexander Cade stared back at her silently, his strange tawny eyes glittering with unholy fire and his dark face set in lines of deadly cold anger. ‘Yours, I think?’ As he dangled her shoes in front of her white face a screaming blackness caused her ears to ring and his shape to blur into a tall shadow, and although he moved quickly with a muttered oath he was too late to save her from sliding into a graceful heap at his feet in a dead faint.
‘What did you do to her?’ She came to in disorientated panic to hear Joanie’s soft voice whispering seemingly in her ear. ‘What on earth did you do to her?’
‘I didn’t do anything, you stupid girl.’ She recognised the bitingly frosty voice immediately and gave a little groan as she remembered where she was. This was all she needed!
She opened dazed eyes to see Joanie’s anxious face two inches from her own. ‘Are you all right?’
‘Of course she isn’t all right.’ Joanie was plucked from her vision and a large balloon glass of brandy held in front of her nose. ‘Drink that.’ The tone was uncompromisingly severe with not a trace of warmth in its arctic depths. ‘Now.’
The neat alcohol burnt as it hit her stomach but its reviving power was immediate, and as the colour came back into her face she became aware that she was lying on a remarkably uncomfortable leather sofa in what she presumed was the manager’s office.
‘Can you sit up?’ the hard voice asked coldly above her head.
‘Perhaps she shouldn’t, we don’t know—’
‘Look, Miss...?’ The two words held intense irritation.
‘Fletcher. Joanie Fletcher.’ Fabia detected a tremor in Joanie’s soft voice and her hackles rose immediately.
‘Look, Miss Fletcher, your friend just rendered somewhat extreme first aid on a poor unfortunate man who had the temerity to have a heart attack in front of her, owing to which, among other things, I should think he now has several broken ribs to contend with. If you’d seen what I’d seen you wouldn’t be at all surprised at her collapse. I think the man’s wife will need psychiatric care for some considerable time—’
‘You lying hound!’ The fierce adrenalin pumping vig-orously through her system banished the last remains of faintness as she swung her feet off the sofa and rose in one swift leap. ‘How dare you? I—’
‘How dare I?’ The incredulous note in the icy voice checked her flow of words and as she gazed into the livid countenance towering above her Fabia knew a moment of pure stomach-twisting fear. ‘You ask me how I dare?’ Joanie moved silently to her side in unspoken support, her plump, round face as white as a sheet and her hands stretched out imploringly.
‘Mr Cade, this isn’t what you think—’
He cut off Joanie’s anxious voice with a sharply raised hand without taking his eyes off Fabia’s face. ‘Don’t insult my intelligence with excuses, Miss Fletcher, and keep quiet. Do you understand?’ The last three words were a bark and now Fabia pushed Joanie to one side as she moved directly in front of him, glaring defiantly right up into his face, while a small part of her mind wondered at this change in him. There was no trace of the elegant, laconic man who had been present all evening. The cool charmer, the enigmatic philanderer, all the things that made up Alexander Cade had disappeared and in their place was a dangerously angry man with blazing eyes and a hard cruel mouth. Why hadn’t she noticed his mouth before? she thought faintly. Maybe that was more an indication of the real man than all the glossy camouflage? But no, she shook her head mentally. He was just mad at being made to look such a complete and utter fool. Which he was.
‘Why the little charade all evening?’ The grim voice was stiff now and she had the impression he was exercising great self-control in speaking quietly. ‘What was the point of all that?’
For a brief second she thought about trying to placate him, offer him an excuse that would be more acceptable than the bald truth, and then her spirit rebelled against the deception. He might be the king-pin in his world but not in hers! Oh, no, not in hers, she thought furiously.
‘Because I’m sick to death of your type of man, Mr Cade,’ she said clearly, her voice firm and strong. ‘You think your money can buy anything and anyone and you control your little empire like a big fat spider drawing people into your web. You are vain and you’re selfish and probably over-sexed too! What did it feel like to be the hunted for a change? To be backed into a corner by someone who repulsed you? Fun, was it?’
He listened to her angry tirade with narrowed eyes and folded arms and strangely, in view of the insults she had just hurled at him, seemed calmer when she had finished than when she had begun. ‘What was his name?’ he asked softly when she paused for breath.
‘What?’ Unconsciously she took a step backwards, her wide eyes darkening to midnight-blue and her breath catching in her throat. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘No?’ He was smiling now, a cruel hard calculating smile, a smile that robbed her of speech and seemed to strip her bare until she had the crazy notion he could read her mind. ‘I think you do. And I was his substitute, eh? A nice convenient deputy ready to hand whom you could vent your venom on and make a laughingstock of.’
‘Look, no one knows, Mr Cade.’ Joanie came back into the conversation after one glance at Fabia’s white, shocked face.
‘I know!’ The words were an explosion of the fury he was keeping in check and Fabia flinched instinctively as she took another step backwards. What had she done? What had she done? ‘You’re going to pay for this, my golden-haired little beauty.’
The words were low and soft but with such acrimony in their depths that she shuddered as a shiver snaked down her spine. He looked like one of the old Greek gods as he stood there in front of them, the harsh artificial light directly over his head catching the tawny gleam in his dark brown hair and turning his eyes to pure gold, his tanned skin and great height adding to the impression of a blazingly beautiful golden statue come to life with a mission of revenge and destruction. He was...terrifying.
‘Oh, I feel sick...’ As Joanie slumped against her Fabia’s arm instinctively reached out to support her. ‘I’ve got to get to a loo again, Fabia.’ She bowed her head helplessly.
‘I don’t believe this.’ Alexander Cade’s contemptuous voice bit through the air. ‘What game are we playing now?’
‘It’s no game.’ There was no mistaking the ring of truth in Fabia’s indignant voice as she cradled Joanie in her arms. ‘She’s been ill on and off all night. She’s a nurse, for goodness’ sake. Don’t you think when that man collapsed she would have helped if she hadn’t been... indisposed? She—’
‘All right, all right.’ He waved his hand irritably. ‘Help her to the ladies’ powder room but first...’ He pressed a bell on the wall and immediately a small middle-aged man opened the door leading out into the reception hall, making Fabia think he had been listening outside. ‘There you are, Swinton. Escort these...ladies to the powder room and then wait outside so they won’t get lost on the way back. OK?’ His voice was icily controlled.
‘OK, sir.’ The man gave a quick nod, the ghost of a smile touching his lips as he turned to Fabia.
‘And Swinton?’
‘Yes, sir?’
‘Tell the manager he can have his office back now. I won’t be needing it any longer. These ladies are going to return upstairs.’ The grim voice was chilling.
‘Very good, sir.’ Swinton gestured for them to follow him.
‘You can’t—’ Fabia’s furious voice was cut off as Joania moaned quietly by her side, her voice a soft whimper.
‘Please...’
‘OK, you’re all right, don’t worry.’ All her attention was concentrated on Joanie as they left t
he room and she didn’t even glance at the tall silent figure standing to one side of the doorway, his arms folded in silent scrutiny.
‘Quick, Fabia!’ As the door of the large and very luxurious powderroom closed behind them Joanie jerked herself off Fabia’s arm and pulled her over to the row of pink shell-shaped washbasins lining one velvet-embossed wall. ‘Come on.’
As Joanie lifted the hem of her shiny, sweetie-paper-style evening dress, exposing two rounded plump knees, Fabia stared at her in amazement.
‘What on earth—?’
‘Come on, you idiot! We haven’t got much time.’ With an agility that belied her stout build, her friend had climbed on to the veneered wood that supported the vanity unit before Fabia could blink, reaching up and loosening the catch to the narrow frosted window and peering outside carefully. ‘I thought so. This leads into the yard where they keep the dustbins and there’s a side door at one end into the street. Come on, Fabia!’
‘You aren’t seriously thinking of climbing through that little thing, are you?’ Fabia looked up into Joanie’s flushed face in horror. ‘And I thought you felt ill?’
‘And I thought I was supposed to be the dim one,’ Joanie muttered irritably. ‘Face facts, Fabia. There’s a man out there who’s loaded like a lethal weapon and he’s definitely gunning for you. Now you can try sweet reason on him but I wouldn’t give much for your chances.’ Fabia pictured the narrowed cat-like eyes and cruel mouth and nodded slowly. ‘The only other alternative as I see it is to remove the target from the firing-range.’
‘You mean run away,’ Fabia said flatly.
‘I mean,’ Joanie took a deep breath that vibrated with impatience, ‘that just for once you should admit you’re in a situation you can’t handle and do the sensible thing. He’s got more clout than a field full of turnips!’ Fabia reflected wryly that in moments of extreme stress Joanie’s country upbringing became more obvious. ‘You can’t beat him so let’s make a dignified retreat!’
‘Dignified?’ Fabia stared aghast at the small window. ‘And what if someone comes in?’
‘Someone will in a minute,’ Joanie said grimly, ‘and he’s about six feet four and hopping mad. Don’t think about it, just take notice of me for once in your life, and come on!’
As Fabia joined Joanie in her precarious perch she had the insane urge to break into hysterical laughter. This wasn’t at all how she had visualised finishing the evening, she reflected wryly, as she hoisted the soft blue silk of her evening dress about her waist, exposing the full length of her slim beautifully shaped legs to the blank gaze of the expensively ornate mirror opposite. ‘Hang on a minute.’ She jumped down again just as Joanie prepared to launch herself out of the window, and heard her friend’s exasperated sigh as she rummaged frantically in her tiny evening-bag.
‘What on earth are you doing, woman?’ Joanie whispered nervously. ‘You haven’t got time to titivate.’
‘I’m just leaving a little goodbye note,’ she said softly as she wrote boldly on the clear glass with her lipstick. ‘I don’t want him to think I’m a complete chicken.’
‘Who cares what he thinks?’ Joanie muttered crossly. ‘If you don’t hurry up he’ll be able to tell you himself.’ She peered at what Fabia had written and groaned softly. ‘There are times—’
‘I know, I know.’ Fabia climbed up beside her again and gave her a little nudge. ‘Go on, then, be careful.’ She heard a tiny muffled grunt as Joanie slid out of the window and then it was her turn. As the cold night air met her hot face a sense of adventure stirred her blood in a way it hadn’t been stirred since she was a child. ‘This is fun, isn’t it?’ she murmured as she landed beside Joanie against the brick wall. ‘Cowboys and Indians!’
‘Oh, wonderful,’ Joanie said sarcastically as she glanced nervously around the small dark courtyard. ‘And guess who’ll end up with an arrow in her back if we’re not careful!’
As they tiptoed across the shadowed and none too clean yard Fabia found Joanie was gripping her arm tightly and glanced at her friend’s set face as she patted her hand comfortingly. ‘Don’t worry, we’re nearly home and dry.’
‘You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?’ Joanie accused softly. ‘You’re actually enjoying it.’
‘I am rather,’ Fabia agreed lightly, opening the bolted door into the narrow side-street and looking warily about her. The lights and traffic of the main thoroughfare a few yards away spelt safety and it was with a sense of anticlimax that she found herself hurrying, a few minutes later, along the brightly lit street and away from the hotel.
‘Taxi!’ As they collapsed into the back seat of the big London taxi Joanie leant back against the upholstered plastic with a small sigh, stretching her small plump legs wearily.
‘What a night!’
‘I thought you enjoyed it?’ Fabia said cheerfully as she glanced at Joanie out of the corner of her eye. ‘It made a change.’
‘It did that all right.’ Joanie’s voice was loaded with feeling. ‘And I’m dying for the loo again, and it’s for real this time!’
It was an hour or two later as Fabia lay quietly in bed, hands behind her head and sleep a million miles away, that she felt the laughter that had been bubbling below the surface all evening begin to emerge as she pictured Alexander Cade’s face when he saw the message she had scribbled on the mirror. ‘Bye for now, sweet thing—catch ya later.’ He wouldn’t like it! She hugged herself as she giggled helplessly at the understatement. He wouldn’t like it at all. To be made a fool of twice in the same evening; it would drive him crazy!
When the paroxysm of laughter had died away a slight feeling of disquiet took its place. How crazy would it drive him? Crazy enough to try and find her? She shook her head slowly, silky strands of corn-gold hair drifting across her face in a soft veil. It wouldn’t matter if he did. He didn’t even know her name. She relaxed again, snuggling further down under the duvet as she tried to empty her mind preparatory for sleep. She knew plenty about him; he was hardly ever out of the newspapers and glossy magazines with a different model-type girl gracing his arm, and no doubt his bed, each time. But he knew nothing about her. A smile touched her full pink lips as her eyelids grew heavy. And that was just the way she wanted it.
CHAPTER TWO
THE radio was blaring forth a carol as Fabia whisked two eggs into fluffy lightness for the omelette she was preparing to accompany the solitary pork chop sizzling in its own juices under the grill.
The November day had a starkness that spoke of snow and it was the first of December tomorrow, two whole weeks since that eventful night. So why did her mind keep harping back to Alexander Cade? And why did everything seem so dull at the moment?
She glanced round the bright cheerful kitchen of her tiny flat. She had been so thrilled when she had first acquired this, a home of her own, five years ago. And she still was, really. It was just that... She paused in her thoughts. What was it exactly?
The doorbell interrupted her musing, chiming shrilly across the last chords of ‘Once in Royal David’s City’, and she switched off the music as she went to answer the door. Not Brian again, she thought irritably as she glanced at her wristwatch. This was about the time her neighbour got home from work and lately he had intensified his relentless pursuit of her, her snubs sliding off his thick skin unheeded. For some reason he considered himself a special gift to womankind although she couldn’t understand why; the thick lips and greedy pig-like eyes did absolutely nothing for her except to create a slight feeling of nausea.
‘Joanie!’ As she opened the door and saw Joanie standing outside, her face as white as a sheet, she moved forward with an exclamation of concern. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘Fabia, I’m sorry, I had to—’
‘It would seem your friend is feeling somewhat unwell again.’ For a second all time was suspended in a weird kind of time-lock as her stunned eyes watched Alexander Cade’s lean, tall body move to stand just behind Joanie in the doorway. ‘Do you know how many nur
ses with the surname of Fletcher there are in London hospitals and the surrounding districts?’ he asked conversationally, his eyes registering satisfaction at her shock. ‘Of course I had to include private nursing homes and suchlike on the list. One has to be thorough.’ His smile was chilling as his eyes swept insultingly down her body.
‘Now look here, Mr Cade—’
He cut off her shaking voice as quickly as he shed the mantle of mildness. ‘But I am looking...Fabia, I think Miss Fletcher just called you? An improvement on Mary-Lou, I would agree. I’ve done nothing but look over the last two weeks, incidentally. You’ve cost me a considerable amount of time and effort, not to mention money, Miss...?’
‘Grant.’ Her voice was flat. ‘Fabia Grant.’
‘A delightful name.’ The icy eyes narrowed. ‘And now, Miss Fabia Grant, you will explain exactly what the hell you have been playing at.’ He turned to Joanie abruptly. ‘My car will take you home, Miss Fletcher. Kindly tell my chauffeur to return here for me.’
‘Please, Mr Cade.’ Joanie spoke faintly into the heavy atmosphere. ‘It was just a joke, a silly joke. Fabia didn’t mean—’
‘A joke?’ The dark voice expressed exaggerated disappointment. ‘And here was I thinking my fatal charm had won out after all in view of your farewell.’
‘What?’ Fabia stared at him for a moment in bewilderment.
‘Bye for now, sweet thing—catch you later.’ As he repeated the words she had found so amusing at the time a slow shiver ran down Fabia’s spine and she heard Joanie groan softly. ‘Well, you wanted to catch me, Miss Grant, and now you have.’ The tawny eyes held her fast. ‘And what are you going to do with me?’ As she stared at him, temporarily dumbstruck, he inclined his head towards Joanie. ‘And please tell your friend to avail herself of my offer. The car is waiting for her.’
‘It’s all right, Joanie, you go,’ Fabia muttered slowly as Joanie shook her head at Alexander Cade’s words.
