Acapulco Moonlight

by Marjorie Lewty

  There was a hum of interest and congratulation from the assembled company, and then the talk became general again, and in a few minutes the party began to break up. The men drifted back to the bar, in twos and threes. Ann Goodall whispered to Karen, 'I simply must get my hair done. Liz always has that effect on me, she makes me feel an absolute frump. See you later, my dear. Come along, Bill.' She put her arm through her husband's and led him away.

  Saul said, 'Karen, I want you to meet Liz Walker. You two should get on together.' He propelled her across the lounge to where Liz and Harry had found a small table to themselves. 'Liz, this is Karen Lane. She's a stranger in our midst.'

  Liz held out a languid hand and as Karen took it she was conscious of a scrutiny from the green eyes that held something a little more than a casual interest. 'Hullo, Karen, nice to welcome you to the talking-shop. Harry tells me you're going to be part of the proceedings, poor you. You work while we other spare females lounge about acquiring a gorgeous tan.'

  'I hope I'll have time to acquire a tan too,' Karen said.

  'I shall see to that,' Saul put in smoothly, draping a possessive arm round Karen's shoulders. 'I intend to organise Karen's spare time.'

  'Oh yes?' Liz lifted perfect brows, and then, turning to Karen she added lightly, 'You'd better watch this man, Karen, he's dangerous.'

  It was just ordinary social chit-chat, but something in her voice, something in the look she exchanged with Saul, something in the way Harry's eyes were fixed on his lovely wife, seemed to ring a warning bell in Karen's head. Saul knew the Walkers very well, that was evident. Or was it just that he knew Liz Walker very well? These were worldly, sophisticated people and suddenly Karen felt very young and inexperienced.

  Liz stretched and yawned. 'I need to relax,' she said. 'And I must get out of my New York gear into something more Acapulco.' She glanced round the bar where all the women were wearing flimsy cover-ups over their bikinis. Cover-ups which covered very little. 'I feel horribly overdressed.' Her eyes rested again on Karen in her neat flower-sprigged shift and Karen felt as if she were at a childrens' party. She really would have to invest in some more appropriate clothes for off-duty times. It appeared that beachwear was the order of the day.

  'You dining here?' Harry asked Saul a little brusquely, and Saul shook his head. 'Not this evening. I'm taking Karen off elsewhere—she needs a good deal of briefing before tomorrow's meeting. She's being very brave and taking on an understudy's part at short notice. Harry will explain the circumstances to you, Liz. See you.' He nodded amiably and led Karen away, still with an arm around her shoulders.

  In the lift he said, 'There's a restaurant I know within walking distance where the food is excellent. We'll make for that.'

  Karen was beginning to feel hungry already but she felt she should put up some sort of resistance to this man's calm assumption that she would fall in with his every wish. 'I'm not sure that I want to go out for dinner,' she said, wishing that the lift didn't seem to be enclosing the two of them in such intimate proximity. Her pulses fluttered as her arm brushed his. 'I'm rather tired.'

  'Understandable,' he said smoothly. 'I suggest you have a siesta first—most people do around sundown. Nobody eats here much before eight. We'll meet down in the same bar at seven-thirty. Think you can find your way?' They got out of the lift and he walked with her to the door of her room.

  It was no use arguing with him—she always lost. 'I expect so,' she replied rather shortly and went in and closed the door.

  She took off her dress and lay down on the bed. It would be wise to snatch a short sleep, but in spite of the broken night she had had last night, sleep had never seemed further away. As she tried to relax she kept remembering last night and the way it had finished, remembering the way Saul had pulled her down on to the bed beside him, remembering his kisses. Her cheeks began to burn and the glow spread lower and lower until her whole body was encompassed.

  This wouldn't do at all, she scolded herself, allowing that man to excite her like this—more than any man had done before. But of course, she told herself, he was the expert. Everything he did would be calculated, practised, making love just as much as making money. The thought left her feeling weak. What did she know about a man like Saul Marston? He lived in a different world from the one she had lived in until now. A jet-setting, international world where people played by different rules from those of the small-town circles she was accustomed to. And somehow she had to try to adapt, for Ben's sake, to hold her own in the conference room—and out of it. It was the latter prospect that filled her with the greatest alarm. She didn't know what Saul intended, but she could hazard a shrewd guess. He intended to get her into his bed, he'd made no secret of that. She would be an amusement, a spare-time diversion, for the days of the conference. Or rather, the nights.

  She got up and walked over to the window. In the cool, air-conditioned room she was shivering and she pulled a wrap round her as she stood looking out at the scene below. The sun had set and the sky was streaked with magnificent colours—flames and greens and golds that merged down into the waters of the bay, providing a picture of breath-taking beauty. For a minute or two Karen watched, spell-bound, forgetting everything except the wonder spread out before her. Then, almost before she realised what was happening, the colours faded and the darkness took over with tropical suddenness. The sky changed to misty grey and quickly to velvet black, and then it was the myriad lights from the hotels that glittered against the darkness and reflected in the gently-moving water.

  Karen drew in a long, sighing breath. If only Ben could be here to share the magic of this place with her! Perhaps she would find she was in love with him and then Saul Marston would have no place in her life. Everything would be so simple, whereas as it was everything was so complicated.

  Somehow she had to avoid antagonising Saul until he had made up his mind about Ben's company. But surely that didn't include sleeping with him? He wouldn't make that a kind of condition? That would amount to blackmail and she was fairly sure that Saul wasn't the kind of man to let his business judgment be clouded by personal considerations. If he wanted to take over Clark's Components he would do so whether or not she was willing to cheapen herself in the process.

  This was wild thinking. And it became even wilder as she asked herself how Ben would view the possibility of exchanging the continuing life of his company for his personal assistant's honour. Karen giggled rather hysterically. It sounded like the plot of a Victorian melodrama. She drew the curtains and switched on the light. Guessing what might happen would get her nowhere, she would just have to play it by ear.

  She went over to the closet and selected a dress to wear—something that would underline her role in this situation. Certainly nothing even vaguely provocative. Two dresses for evenings, her mother had said. One was a slinky ivory satin with a huge ruffle round the halter neck and almost no back. It was a fun dress and Karen loved it—but not tonight. Oh no, definitely not tonight. She took the second one off its hanger. This was much more suitable—a midnight blue organza with long full sleeves and tiny buttons up the front, from the waist to the demure frilled neckline that gave her face a hint of playfulness to contrast with its serious expression. This evening she must underline the seriousness and forget the playfulness.

  She twisted her hair into a French knot, and kept the hanging tendrils to a minimum. She spent time over her make-up, keeping it muted and subtle. Misty blue eye-shadow, a tender pink lip-gloss, a hint of foundation to tone down the colour in her cheeks and remove the impression that she was anticipating the evening with excitement. She certainly wasn't, she assured herself. What looked like excitement in the colour of her cheeks and the sparkle in her hazel eyes was nothing more than the light of battle. She was going to hold her own against a formidable opponent.

  She glanced at her watch. Seven-thirty, he had said and it wasn't yet seven. But she felt too restless to sit here in her room. She tossed a lacy black shawl over her arm and took the
lift down to the ground floor. Quiet hung over the big rooms that had lately been buzzing with talk and laughter. Evidently Saul was right—people didn't emerge for dinner until some unearthly hour like eight or nine o'clock.

  Karen felt quite hollow inside; she would pass out with hunger if she had to wait another two hours. She looked round for a snack-bar or some such and eventually strolled into a small side bar that was offering freshly-made fruit drinks with tempting bowls of delicious chewy little cakes of fruits and nuts like nothing that Karen had ever tasted before. She ordered a drink of lime with tiny strawberries floating in it and was eating her third cake when she was aware that someone had slid on to the high stool beside her. It was Max Friend, looking like a heart-throb from a very old film, with his corrugated gold hair and his world-weary expression.

  'Hullo, sweetness, all on your own?' He turned faintly bloodshot blue eyes on her. 'Drinking alone isn't allowed, you know.'

  Karen raised her eyebrows. 'As it's only fruit juice it doesn't count,' she said coolly. She didn't like the man much and would have normally given him a brush-off in no uncertain manner, but she hesitated. She had no idea how he ranked in Saul's group of companies and it would be stupid to start off by making enemies.

  He eyed the tall glass of green liquid. 'Only fruit juice? Oh, we'll soon change that.' He beckoned to the barman and indicated by gestures and speaking loudly in English that he wished a gin to be added to Karen's glass.

  ' The barman gave him a straight look and gabbled a reply. As Max looked flummoxed Karen put in under her breath, 'I think he's telling you that this bar only sells fruit drinks. That,' she added pointedly, 'is why I came here. I wanted a fruit drink.'

  'Oh.' Max Friend had the grace to look slightly apologetic. 'I see I've been put in my place.'

  'Not at all,' Karen said with the faintest of smiles at his discomfiture.

  Max, laughed. 'Well, obviously this is no place for little me. Anyway, I've probably had enough booze for the present.' He leaned towards her confidentially. 'That's the worst of these get-togethers—you have to be sociable and have a drink with everyone and before you know where you are you're one over the eight.'

  'Only one?' Karen murmured.

  'We-ell, maybe three or four,' he grinned ruefully. 'Look, let's go down to take a look at the Pacific Ocean, that should blow the cobwebs away.'

  Karen hesitated. There was still twenty minutes to go to half-past seven, and she didn't want to admit that she was waiting for Saul. Besides, it would be nice to walk down to the water. 'O.K.' she agreed.

  The sand was still warm from all the daylight hours of sunshine. The sea was calm and tiny waves broke lazily at their feet as they stood on the edge of the tide. Myriad dots of light from the soaring hotel buildings pierced the darkness of the sky and at the far end of the bay a full moon was floating like a white balloon.

  'It's almost too perfect to be real,' Karen said. 'You begin to think you're looking at a stage backdrop.'

  'A backdrop for a very lovely lady,' Max murmured. Slipping an arm round her waist, he crooned, 'Moonlight becomes you, it goes with your hair.'

  Karen wriggled away. 'My hair's dark, hadn't you noticed?'

  'Of course I've noticed. I've noticed every little thing about you, darling, since the first moment you walked into the bar with Marston. I thought, God, this is a bonus. Something to take a chap's mind off his troubles.'

  She took the opportunity to change the subject. 'So you've got troubles,' she said lightly. 'Haven't we all?'

  He stared out across the expanse of gently-heaving glassy water. 'Divorce pending,' he said gloomily.

  Oh goodness, another of them! What could she say to him? Bad luck, try again, like one of those computer games. Karen was silent, which she soon realised was a mistake because Max began pouring out his sorry story. All she wanted was to get her own back, he grumbled. She was grabbing everything, the house, the furniture. Putting in a ridiculous claim for the childrens' education. He was going to be broke, he didn't know how he could carry on.

  Karen was remembering Ben and his divorce, and how he had never said a word against Christine, though goodness knows he would have been entitled to. But Max Friend was another sort of man altogether. He was getting almost maudlin now, probably partly the result of all the drink he had inside him.

  'You can't imagine what it's like to meet a girl like you, sweetheart.' His arm crept round her again. 'A lovely, warm, sympathetic girl.'

  But I haven't said a word, Karen thought, half amused, half pitying. The poor wretch was in such a state she hadn't the heart to disengage herself.

  She didn't have to. From behind them a hand plucked Max Friend's arm away from her waist none too gently and Saul's voice said, 'That'll do, chum. This is my territory. Keep off in future, will you?'

  'Max turned, staggering a little, his mouth gaping open foolishly. 'Oh, it's you, Saul.' He giggled. 'Sorry and all that, I didn't know.'

  'Well, now you do,' Saul said shortly. He turned to Karen. 'Are you ready? Come along then, we'll walk.' He took her arm and, leaving Max standing where he was, propelled her up the beach.

  On firm ground Karen stopped. 'Wait a minute, I've got sand in my shoes.' She pulled off one of her black patent sandals and shook the powdery sand out on to the tarmac. Standing on one foot to replace the sandal she tottered and clutched at Saul's arm to steady herself. It felt like a rock—a rock that was somehow shot through and through with magnetism which vibrated along her nerves. 'S-sorry,' she murmured unsteadily and he laughed. 'Don't hurry,' he said amusedly. 'I'm enjoying it. Now do the other one.'

  When she had finished Karen let go of his supporting arm quickly, and they walked along side by side beneath the palm trees, not touching.

  'You see?' he said. 'I warned you, didn't I?'

  'Did you?' She pretended not to understand.

  'About the big bad wolves that would be attending the conference. Not that Max Friend is a very big wolf. Just big enough to be irritating.'

  That was Karen's opinion too, but she said, 'He seems quite harmless. He was merely telling me about his divorce.'

  'And you were doling out sympathy, I suppose. A lovely, warm, sympathetic girl!' He imitated Max's slurred tones unkindly.

  'As a matter of fact I wasn't,' Karen said. 'Although if you .hadn't barged in when you did I might have done. I'd be sorry for anyone with a broken marriage.'

  Saul's chuckle was ironic. 'I,' he said, 'would be sorry for anyone with a marriage—period.'

  'You're not married yourself?' Karen said and suddenly his answer seemed vitally important.

  'Me? Married? Never in this world. You only have to look around you to see where that road leads.'

  'You wouldn't want children—a son to carry on the Marston empire?' she said innocently.

  He lowered his head and she looked up and met his gaze. His face was in shadow but in the twinkle of lights along the waterfront his eyes were glittering dangerously. 'Don't you try taking the mickey out of me, Miss Karen Lane,' he murmured. 'I have my own ways of dealing with females who issue a challenge.'

  A tremor ran through her. The words were light but there seemed to her heightened awareness to be a thread of menace running through them. 'I'll remember that,' she said, and her voice shook a trifle.

  'Mind you do,' he growled, and as they walked along together the space between their two bodies seemed to be sparking and crackling with electricity. Karen's mouth was dry and her hands were clenched. It was as if she was being pulled against her will towards the man beside her by some invisible, irresistible force of nature.

  She didn't know whether she actually moved or whether he did. All she knew was that the next moment his arm was holding her strongly against him and in the shadowy darkness his mouth found hers in a kiss that sent thrill after thrill coursing down her body. When he let her go she swayed like a rag doll and would have fallen if his arm had not still been holding her.

  He looked down into her eyes and
the light filtering through the palm trees fell on his face. His expression was no longer ironic or teasing. His face reflected the same hunger that she felt inside herself. 'It seems we do something to each other, doesn't it?' he said, very low.

  Karen drew in a deep breath. 'Nothing that we can't cope with, I'm sure.' She was pleased with the comparative steadiness of her voice. 'Moonlight in Acapulco no doubt plays all sorts of tricks with one's emotions. We needn't take it too seriously.'

  He held her a little way away. 'What are you afraid of, Karen?' he said.

  'I'm not afraid.'

  'Then why are you trembling?' he said.

  'I just told you.' She managed a smile somehow, she never knew how. 'Moonlight in Acapulco. It goes to one's head.'

  He laughed, a deep laugh that reverberated all through her. 'Not to the head, little Karen. The head doesn't come into it at all.'

  She was getting control of herself now. 'Well, mine does,' she said shortly. 'My head tells me that I must control my behaviour.'

  He linked his arm through hers and they walked on. 'Why?' he said at last, after a silence. 'Is it Ben? Or someone else?'

  There wasn't time to weigh up her answer. She only knew that she must at all costs protect herself from falling into a veritible abyss of love for this man beside her.

  'Ben has asked me to marry him,' she said rather baldly.

  'Oh, I see.' His voice was soft, thoughtful. 'And may I know what your reply was?'

  'No,' she said. 'You may not. Nothing is settled yet.

  But ‑' suddenly her voice changed, her words seemed to run away with her '—but don't you see, I can't—can't—start anything with you, or anyone else while Ben's lying there in hospital. So I'll be grateful if you'll—you'll stop behaving as if you ...'

  'Wanted you?' he said amusedly. 'But I do, you know. I want you very much, more than any woman I've met for a long, long time. I've wanted you since the moment I set eyes on you in that crumby little office in Lessington. And I'm certainly not as noble as you are—it's Ben's bad luck that he can't be on the scene but unless his ring is on your finger then I don't consider you—er—out of bounds, so to speak.'