'A plan?' She spun round then, and found her face only inches from his. When he didn't move she ducked under his arm and retreated to a safe spot in front of the row of clothes-closets. 'What plan?'
'I think,' Saul Marston said, turning round and in no way put out by her evasive action, 'that for the duration of the conference it would be as well if we allowed people to assume that you and I are—well— friends, if you get my meaning. Do you agree?'
'No,' Karen burst out hotly, forgetting that for Ben's sake she had to be careful not to antagonise, this man. 'I certainly don't agree. I think it's a rotten idea.'
'Why?' he enquired lazily. 'Do you find me not to your taste?'
What a way of putting it! And why did he have to look so shatteringly attractive, lounging there with his hands in his pockets, smiling at her under those thick dark lashes of his?
'I don't find you anything,' she muttered crossly. 'I don't know you, Mr Marston.'
'Saul,' he said. 'Please.'
'All right then, Saul,' she said.
'And if not knowing me is the trouble,' he said. 'There's one very easy and enjoyable way of getting around that.'
She stepped back as he came towards her but she was standing against the sliding door of the closet and she could move no further. His hands came up and rested against the door, trapping her again, but this time she was facing him and there was no escape.
She looked into his face and he was smiling faintly and he was so close that she could see the tiny lines beside his dark, glittering eyes; the slight hollows beneath the high cheekbones; the firm mouth with more than a hint of sensuality about the lower lip. She watched his mouth come nearer and her inside stirred, almost in pain.
I can't deal with this, she thought wildly, I can't resist him. None of her usual ploys to keep things from getting too intense seemed to work now. This emotion was something new and raw, something quite shattering.
Oh God, she thought, I'm going crazy, but more than anything in the world I want him to kiss me.
CHAPTER FOUR
Deliberately he framed her face between his two hands and kissed her firmly on the mouth. Then his hands slipped down to her waist and for a fleeting moment he held her body hard against his. Karen had a wild urge to wind her arms round his neck, to draw him closer, to turn the brief kiss into a long, sensual delight. But before she had time either to resist the urge or give in to it he had released her and stepped away.
He smiled down into her bemused face. 'There,' he said, 'we already know each other a little better, and this could be by way of a prelude to—other things. But for now—duty calls. I expect the clans are gathering, ready for the "off" tomorrow. Shall we go down and join them? I'll see if my luggage has been brought up and come back here for you in five minutes. O.K.? By the way, my room is next door.' He grinned wickedly as he added, 'You can come and waken me again any time you like.'
'Oh you—you ‑' Karen exploded helplessly. It seemed to her that he was manipulating her just as he wanted. She might be a puppet on a string for all the initiative she was showing. She must assert herself now or he would imagine he could do anything he liked with her.
She turned away and went across to open one of her bags. 'I'll need more than five minutes,' she said crisply. 'A quarter of an hour at least. Oh, and before we meet anyone I want to find out where there's an Interflora agency in the hotel—there's bound to be one, isn't there? I want particularly to order flowers to be sent to Ben.'
Saul walked to the door and opened it. 'Fifteen minutes then,' he said and added, with a lift of a dark brow. 'And of course we must send flowers to Ben, mustn't we?' He went out and shut the door.
Karen glared at the glossy white door. We indeed! Why should he want to associate his name with hers on the card that Ben would receive? She would make sure it didn't appear there. This gift was to be a purely personal matter, from her to Ben. How would Ben feel if he got a card signed Karen and Saul? Or, more likely, Saul and Karen? Would he feel hurt, or would he be pleased that she seemed to be establishing a good 'rapport' with the man who could save his company?
It was all so difficult, with Saul Marston behaving as he was doing. Why couldn't he have been middle-aged and happily married? It would be so much easier for her to carry out her responsibilities without having this—this intimate approach almost forced on her.
She opened her bags and began to hang up her clothes in one of the closets, looking at them doubtfully. Her mother had insisted on a shopping spree, but the pretty little cotton dresses they had chosen between them didn't seem quite right for what she had already seen of Acapulco. But after all, she reminded herself, she was here to attend a business conference. She slipped out of the linen suit and into a white sleeveless dress scattered with tiny blue forget-me-nots, belted in with a narrow blue sash. She sat down to tidy her hair and renew her make-up, leaning towards the pink-shaded mirror. Her lipstick had smudged when Saul had kissed her a few minutes ago; her hand was shaking as she wiped her lips clean with a tissue. Had he seen—had he guessed that she had wanted more than that one brief kiss? She must be very, very careful if it happened again.
Ben had said there was some woman Saul had been having an affair with who would probably be at the conference. If the woman were here, or soon to be here, then surely Saul wouldn't want to bother himself with her—Karen. That would be a relief, wouldn't it? That would be what she wanted? She tried to convince herself, but the heat that had risen through her body a few minutes ago was still burning inside her. She went across and dashed ice-cold water over her face and then concentrated on putting on her make-up all over again. By the time Saul tapped at her door and walked in she was smiling a cool, bright little smile that seemed to suit the role of an up-and-coming young woman executive.
Saul had discarded the shirt and jacket he had worn on the flight from Mexico City and was wearing a short-sleeved ivory-coloured sports shirt in a thin cotton material that showed off his firm arms and shoulders. She had to admit that he looked disturbingly attractive leaning against the door-frame, his dark eyes following her as she walked across the room to pick up her handbag. He was a picture of arrogant male self-satisfaction—the kind that most women are supposed to fall for. She could feel the tug of his masculinity reaching her, even across the room. She told herself that so long as she recognised the danger she would be armed to withstand it. She would just have to be very careful.
'You've been quick, and I must say the result is charming.' His voice was a deep drawl. 'Shall we go?'
Karen was sure she would never be able to find her way around the hotel alone. It was like a small city with all its corridors and restaurants and balconies and bars and lounges. Somewhere in the distance a guitar thrummed away and everywhere there were people sitting around in various stages of dress and undress under the palms, drinking, chatting, laughing. A smell of expensive perfumes and cigar-smoke hung on the air. Waiters in red uniforms with silver buttons padded around, silent-footed on the plushy carpets.
Saul led the way confidently through a shopping arcade with glittering jewellery and mouth-watering clothes behind plate-glass windows. 'You must have a browse around here before we go,' he said. 'Take back a memento of the occasion.'
'It all looks definitely out of my price range,' Karen said. 'Marks and Sparks is more in my line.'
Above her head she heard Saul chuckle and his hand closed on her arm. 'You must aim high,' he said. 'You won't always be a secretary, my girl.'
'Personal assistant,' she corrected him idiotically, because she couldn't think of anything else to say, and the touch of his hand on her arm was making her nerve-ends prickle.
'Sorry,' he smiled. 'Personal assistant. My remark goes for that too. You won't always be a personal assistant. I have other plans for you—tentative, of course, just at present.'
She wasn't going to ask him what he meant by that broad hint, and fortunately at the moment she spotted a florists and made straight for it, leaving Saul in
the rear. She was conscious of him watching her as she stood in a bower of exotic colours and scents, making her choice of flowers, but he didn't attempt to interfere, or suggest that his name should be added to the card on which she scribbled her short message— 'Dear Ben—Get better soon—Love from Karen.' Her Spanish was just about equal to dealing with the salesgirl, and as she counted out the pesos on to the counter she felt quite pleased with herself for having coped with the small transaction efficiently. She gave Saul a cool smile as she joined him in the doorway.
'Happy now? Duty done?' he said with that hint of irony in his tone which he seemed to produce every time he spoke about Ben. She couldn't let that pass. 'It wasn't a duty at all,' she said coldly.
'Call it a labour of love then. Lucky Ben!' She saw the glint of amusement in his eyes and wanted to hit him, but managed to control her annoyance as they walked away down the wide passage and into a lift. She was going to have to exercise a good deal of control, one way and another, in the next few days, if Clark's Components was to survive.
When they reached the ground floor Saul led the way into a vast, ornate lounge, all red and black and gold and glittering glass and row upon row of multicoloured labelled bottles behind a horseshoe-shaped bar.
'Here we are,' he murmured, 'and the clans are gathering already as I expected. He raised a hand in salute to two men sitting on high stools at the bar. 'Well met, you two.' The two men stood up as Saul and Karen approached. 'Karen, Harry Walker—Max Friend. Max—Harry—Karen Lane. Karen's here representing Clark's Components of Lessington—you may have heard of the company,' he added smoothly. 'She's going to sit in on our deliberations and see how she likes us.'
'Well, well, that should brighten the proceedings somewhat.' Max Friend held her hand longer than was necessary and treated her to an unashamedly wolfish scrutiny. He was good-looking in a going-to-seed way, in white trousers and pink shirt. He had crinkly golden hair and bloodshot blue eyes that took in every bit of Karen at a glance.
The second man was a different type altogether— thickset and square-jawed, with bushy eyebrows over steel-grey eyes—everyone's idea of a business tycoon, in his well-tailored lightweight suit. He took Karen's hand in a firm grip and eyed her keenly, glancing at Saul and then back again. Karen was perhaps oversensitive at the moment, but she felt sure he was deciding silently that she was probably Saul's girlfriend.
If he was, Saul was evidently not going to correct the impression. He ordered drinks and nodded towards a table. 'Let's be comfortable,' he said, and they all carried their drinks over and sat down. There was the usual exchange of small-talk about journeys— Max Friend had come from Florida, Harry Walker from Canada.
'So—we're all going after the exports, are we?' Saul remarked jovially, sitting back and sipping his drink. 'Good show. Is Liz with you, Harry?'
The big man shook his head. 'Coming on later, been staying with some people in New York.' Karen thought the glance he gave Saul was somehow guarded.
'Oh look who's here,' chortled Max, who was sitting next to Karen. He lowered his voice and leaned nearer to her. 'We are about to be joined by one of the seven wonders of the modern world.'
'What do you mean?' Karen said.
'A happily married couple, and if that isn't a wonder, what is? Mr and Mrs Lovey-Dovey.' He chuckled. 'They live in Wimbledon,' he added, as if that clinched the matter.
Several other men were joining them now and Saul was welcoming them, chatting to them. Chairs were pulled up, greetings were exchanged. Everyone obviously knew everyone else and the group began to take on the feeling of a business conference.
Harry Walker pulled his chair round and edged it in beside her. 'So you're from Lessington are you, Miss Lane? Pleasant place, I've been there once or twice on my way up North. Clark's Components, let's see ‑' he looked upwards, narrowing his eyes. 'No, it doesn't ring a bell I'm afraid.'
'We're quite small—at the moment,' Karen said guardedly. She had to be careful what she said here, certainly until she got her bearings.
'But hoping to be larger, eh?' The big man smiled rather tightly. 'It's all right, Miss Lane, we've all been in the same boat, needing a rescue operation at some time or other, Saul Marston being the rescuer, that's the way he operates. It's your own company, is it?'
'Oh no,' Karen said quickly. There was no need to be cautious about this. 'I'm only a stand-in for Ben Clark, my principal. Unfortunately he was taken ill on the flight and he's in hospital in Mexico City.'
'Ah—bad luck.' He took a puff at his cigar. 'Known Saul long, have you?'
'Only a couple of days. I hardly know him at all.' She must get that straight from the start, she thought, before Saul started giving everyone the wrong impression about their relationship.
'Ah,' said Harry Walker again, this time with a faintly knowing inflexion. Was it possible that Saul had already let it be thought that he and Karen were— she shied away from the current popular term—having an affair?
'Karen!' Saul's voice cut through the talk around the table. 'Come over here, darling, someone I want you to meet.'
The sound of his deep, velvety voice saying her name gave her a small flutter. But—darling! How dared he? She could feel Harry Walker eyeing her speculatively. She seethed with annoyance, but there was absolutely nothing she could do about it at this moment, with all these people around. It was appalling that Saul Marston should issue orders like that and she should have to obey tamely. On the other hand it would raise eyebrows if she behaved like a sulky wife or girlfriend. It would make the whole thing look too important. Then she saw that he was sitting next to the couple whom Max Friend had called Mr and Mrs Lovey-Dovey and she got up quickly, walked round the table, and hardly waited for Saul's introduction to the couple before she exclaimed enthusiastically, 'How lovely to meet you,' as if they were the two people in the world whose presence could make her hurry to obey Saul's command.
Saul pulled up a chair for her between himself and Mrs Goodall, who was a little dumpling of a woman with bright blue eyes and a page-boy haircut. Her fair straight fringe made her look rather like a cuddly doll, one of the old-fashioned kind, not a modern trendy one.
, She covered Karen's hand with her own and, squeezed it. 'How absolutely splendid to have another girl here! Usually poor little me has to amuse myself all on my own while these important men are doing their talking.'
Saul leaned forward. 'Too bad, Ann love,' he drawled. 'Karen's one of us, she's here to attend the conference.'
Mrs Goodall's mouth drew into a pout. She looked at Karen doubtfully. 'Are you really, my dear? You're not one of those feminists, are you?'
'Certainly not,' Saul answered for her. 'She's just a very bright business woman. And we won't leave you on your own too much, Annie. We'll have to arrange some excursions in our free time. You and Bill, Karen and I. How about that?'
'Oh yes!' Ann Goodall brightened. 'That will be lovely. D'you hear that, Bill? Saul's arranging a foursome for us, when you've finished your talking.'
Her husband turned back from the conversation he was having with the man on his other side and patted her hand. 'Splendid, my dear, splendid!' he said, and resumed his conversation.
Saul started to discuss U.S. markets with the man on his other side and Karen was effectively marooned with Ann Goodall, who proceeded to quizz her unmercifully. Who did she work for? How long had she been doing the job? Did she enjoy it, and was she terribly, terribly ambitious? Where did she live? With her parents? Oh, how nice, and what did her father do?
Karen answered mechanically, all the time conscious of Saul sitting next to her. The sound of his voice seemed to echo through her head and travel all down her body in a very peculiar way, although she could only catch a word here and there of what he was saying.
'Saul's a sweetie, isn't he?' giggled Ann. 'If I hadn't got my Bill I'm sure I'd fall for him myself. Not that he'd look at little me,' she sighed. 'He goes for glamour does Saul. Oh look, here's Harry's wife, isn't she f
abulous? There's no other word.'
Karen turned to look and saw at once what Ann meant. Liz Walker had the kind of looks that could never be described as 'pretty'. She was fabulous, and that was all there was to it—tall, willowy, in an olive-green dress with long floating sleeves and a huge silver brooch at the lowest point of the V-neck—a point which was almost at her waistline. Her hair was a smooth, satiny russet showing in tendrils beneath an enormous black straw hat, and she had wonderful green eyes, heavily made-up so that she looked rather like a very beautiful snake.
The men were all on their feet as she joined the table, but she went straight to her husband and kissed him. Harry Walker's rugged face lit up; he looked like a small boy who has been given some longed-for birthday present. He pulled up a chair for his wife and she sank into it gracefully.
'I caught an early flight,' she said in a husky voice, looking round the table at the assembled group. 'Hullo, everyone, nice to see you all again.' Her glance stopped at Saul. 'Hullo, Mr Chairman.' She made a teasing moue of her lips. 'How's the great man?' Her eyes moved briefly to Karen, sitting beside him, seemed in one glance to dismiss her as negligible, and returned to Saul.
'Nicely, thank you,' Saul replied, in the same tone. 'How's yourself?'
'Exhausted.' Liz didn't look in the least exhausted. 'New York moves at a shattering pace.' She turned to her husband and laid a white hand against his cheek. 'Don't look so worried, my sweet. I'm not really exhausted. Actually I find New York marvellously stimulating. And business, I'm glad to say, was encouraging. I think they liked me—and my wares.'
'So they jolly well should,' Harry boomed, catching her hand and kissing it. It seemed to Karen an unlikely gesture from such a very unromantic-looking man. But you never could tell, could you? And he was obviously very much in love with his exquisite wife. 'Liz has started her own business recently.' He beamed proudly round the table. 'Costume jewellery.'
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