Spellbound

by Margaret Way

  'How do you know?' His hand tightened on her hair and his eyes shot sparks.

  'Look at Camilla,' she pointed out.

  'I wish you wouldn't talk about Camilla,' he shrugged. 'Camilla is the past.'

  'She still has a hold on you.'

  'I suppose so. In a way. I'm concerned about her.'

  'I knew,' Lucie said mournfully.

  'But you're more sad for yourself,' he said insolently. 'You're jealous.'

  'I can't think it's jealousy.'

  'It is.' Julian shifted so he leaned back against the dresser with one arm curved tightly around her. 'Why won't you let me have you, little Lucie with the purple eyes?'

  'So you can rid yourself of whatever it is you feel for me?'

  'That,' he said, and sighed. 'Do you suppose I want to love you? I refuse.'

  'Oh, Julian,' she said gently, and with a groan, he kissed her, unconcerned with her protest.

  'Don't!' She tried to turn her mouth away, but he captured it again, not violently but with a deep languor that robbed her of all strength.

  How long they stood there with their mouths locked she didn't know, there was such a hunger in her that the last thing she wanted was to break away.

  'I want you curled up in my bed,' Julian muttered against her parted lips. 'Where you belong.'

  'Oh, no!'

  Now his hands came up to delicately trace the outline of her breasts, and her hunger deepened so that it was an uncomfortable ache.

  'You're heartless,' she shivered.

  'You mean you can't stand it.' The gentle touch became hard and possessive.

  'Hmm.' She could only shake her head under the onslaught of sensation. He was hypnotising her so easily.

  'I can't think of anything I want to do more than make love to you,' he told her in a low voice, his mouth covering hers once again. 'Slowly, until you ache for it, beg me to take you.'

  Lucie had absolutely no notion from where she found the strength, unless it was that soft, sheer note of triumph.

  She held herself away, framing his face between her two hands and staring up into his brilliant, excited eyes. 'I'm not safe here any more, am I?'

  He shook his head and his glance became hard. 'No.'

  'Then I must go away.'

  'You're certainly not going.'

  'Oh!' He tightened his grip so fiercely she cried out. 'You're hurting me, Julian!'

  'That should tell you something.' His eyes flashed, but his hold somewhat relaxed. 'Am I supposed to marry you?'

  'You're not supposed to do anything,' she said quietly, 'and I'm sure that you won't. It's all right, Julian, I won't bother you in any way.'

  'You've been a threat since I first laid eyes on you,' he said harshly. 'Threats are best reduced to impotence.'

  'You realise you're saying you don't care about me at all?'

  'I do care.'

  'And you want to be rid of it?' Her soft query required no answer.

  'Suppose you stop analysing me,' he said tersely, implying that her doing so was likely to draw sparks.

  'You're an oddity, Julian. You know that?'

  'Tell me, Lucie,' he invited.

  'You're disturbed.'

  'Hell, I know that. I've got you in my blood.'

  'And that makes you angry. You want to belong to yourself, body and soul. You can't even begin to love.'

  'You've convinced me.'

  She shook her head. 'I don't think I have.'

  'Damn you, Lucie!' he groaned.

  I asked for it, she thought fatalistically, calm in the eye of the storm. She knew Julian was turbulent, unpredictable, yet she had rashly confronted him—in her own way, courting disaster.

  When he lifted her she did not make a single sound. It was even possible she wanted to be carried off, to wake in the morning beside him. Possession had already begun, from the very first moment without her ever knowing it. She knew she had to sleep with Julian; it was all part of the pattern.

  But at least one person in the house was not under a powerful compulsion. Jessie's rather heavy, measured footsteps sounded along the passageway, then she was approaching them, flushed from an hour's sleep but calm and smiling.

  'So you're home, Julian?'

  Despite the turbulence that was part of him Julian's personality was enlivened by a keen sense of humour. His sombre face miraculously lightened and he spun around with Lucie in his arms.

  'Just off to bed, Jessie. Lucie is going to come with me.'

  'Is that right, Lucie?' Jessie asked.

  'No,' Lucie breathed, torn between relief and despair.

  'Lucie/' Julian warned.

  'I've a feeling I arrived just in time,' Jessie said, firmly belting her old dressing gown.

  'Please put me down, Julian,' Lucie begged.

  'No, I'm the devil come to carry you off.'

  'The resemblance is quite extraordinary.' 'Dear boy ' Jessie began with the voice of

  reason.

  Julian flung his brilliant gaze challengingly into Lucie's upturned face. 'I guess it was a pretty wild idea at that.' He released her immediately and moved back effectively. 'Maybe you're just someone I invented,' he said tauntingly.

  'So you can erase me any time you like.'

  'Definitely.'

  'Please, children,' said Jessie, speaking anxiously. 'You'd both be a damn sight happier if you'd only admit you really care about each other.'

  'Good for you, Jessie,' drawled Julian, so maliciously Lucie could have screamed.

  'There's something we have to talk to you about,' Jessie told him.

  'Must it be tonight?' He gave a deep, vibrant moan.

  'Yep.'

  'So tell me.' Julian turned and looked at Jessie hard.

  'After all your kindness, Julian,' Jessie said quietly, 'it's time now to leave you in peace.'

  'Look at that poor little kid,' he interrupted, looking at Lucie standing small and lost, 'what a rough time she's had here.'

  'Every now and then you're a swine, Julian,' Lucie told him bitterly.

  'And you're an appalling judge!'

  'One of your casualties.'

  'Oh no, you're not,' he shook his raven head. 'Not yet!'

  'I'll try again,' said Jessie. 'It might help if Lucie and I move out tomorrow.'

  'Forget about it, Jessie.' 'We have to, Julian,' Lucie whispered. 'People talk.

  'You're already my mistress.'

  'My God!' Jessie exclaimed.

  'Forget I ever told you.' Julian looked straight at the now shivering Lucie. 'Who's next on the agenda, Tennant?'

  'Oh, Julian!' She stared at him helplessly, the glittering eyes and cynical mouth. She could never, never get through to Julian. Everything about him made communication impossible.

  'Well, what's the answer?' Unexpectedly he walked towards her and grasped her by the shoulders.

  'Jessie and I are getting a flat together,' she said poignantly.

  'Is that right, Jessie?' he asked curtly over his shoulder.

  'Yes, it is,' Jessie said firmly, 'and that child should be in bed.'

  'I agree.' Julian's eyes suddenly sparkled like black diamonds. 'Forgive me, little one. I know you're not ready for a lover.'

  'When I find one he'll be a lot kinder than you!'

  'Kind . . . kind,' he mocked her. 'Can you be deluding yourself that Tennant is kind?'

  'I think this will all end in tears,' Jessie warned.

  'Tears suit her,' Julian said caustically. 'Come on, baby, be brave and let me carry you to bed.'

  The blood rushed to Lucie's head, but he had lifted her cradling her with a frightening tenderness. 'I hate you, Julian,' she said carefully.

  'Damn it, you don't.'

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  In the hectic month that followed, Lucie did not know how she survived. True to her promise, Sarah endeavoured to fit the magazine's commitments to Lucie's time-table, but there was the inevitable conflict of interests. Each day came and went in a mad whirl of activity
, and Lucie was finding it difficult just to calm down enough to sleep.

  'Don't tell me more pictures?' Jessie exclaimed at breakfast.

  'They want me to do all next month's fashion layout.' Lucie gave the older woman a wide-eyed look from her thickly fringed violet eyes. 'Though she's bitchy to me all the time Miss Blanchard thinks I'm capable of showing her clothes.'

  'Dreamy,' said Jessie. 'When things begin to happen, they happen. Soon you'll have one of the best known faces in the country.'

  'At least I'm making a lot of money.'

  'But you're not happy, love, are you?' Jessie was busy putting oranges through the juicer.

  'All the tantrums!' sighed Lucie. 'Gosh, there are more in the fashion world than there are in the theatre.'

  'And you don't throw them, thank God.'

  'What good does it do, and it's so uncivilised!'

  'Is Joel picking you up?' Jessie asked.

  'Hmmm.' Lucie stared ahead of her, tense inside. 'I told him I could catch a cab, but he'll drop me on his way to work.'

  'You're seeing a lot of him,' Jessie said gently.

  'Too much.' Lucie accepted her orange juice with a little smile. 'Poor Avril! She's hoping desperately that something will come out of it. She wants Joel to settle down, and it seems she approves of me.'

  'His father as well.'

  'Yes.' Lucie heaved a sigh. 'I could become part of a rich, pampered world.'

  'Only you've been trained for a hard career.'

  'Please ' Lucie held up her hand, 'I don't want to talk about Julian.'

  'We always do,' Jessie pointed out.

  'He's putting Black Iris on again with Camilla,' Lucie told her. 'Public demand.'

  'Great! I can see it,' said Jessie.

  'I hope you enjoy it,' Lucie said gallantly. 'No egg for me, Jessie. I couldn't eat it.'

  'Yes, you will.' Jessie's professional eye moved over Lucie's fragile figure. 'It's crazy not to eat a good breakfast. It's the most important meal of the day.'

  'Oh, all right.' Lucie usually did what she was told. 'Why are you so good to me, Jessie?'

  'That's easy!' Jessie's eyes twinkled. 'Eat up before Joel arrives. I notice when he says one time he's a half an hour early.'

  It was a very different Joel Lucie was seeing these days. Joel was now happily engaged in playing the youthful tycoon, slim and compact in his impeccable business suit, driving a large car his mother had given him.

  'When are you going to give up all this nonsense and marry me?' he asked her.

  'I'm not ready for marriage, Joel,' she said simply, and slid easily into the bucket seat of his car.

  'How long does it take?'

  'The answer's not easy.'

  'I think you're simply frightened of marriage, aren't you? Mother thinks so.'

  'Ah well. . . .' Irony crept into Lucie's pretty voice. 'Do me a favour and don't discuss me with Avril.'

  'God, she loves you!' Joel said reproachfully. 'You know that.'

  'You mean she thinks I'll make you settle down.'

  'Shouldn't we at least get engaged?' A much smaller car cut Joel off and he swore disgustedly. 'Thinks he's clever, but I'll return the favour!'

  'Please don't.' Lucie ought not to feel nervous with Joel at the wheel, but lately she had been troubled with her old dream—too damned often. Probably because she was often overtired.

  'All right, sweetie,' he looked at her quickly. 'You know I would die rather than ever harm you again.'

  The traffic lights changed and they started to move again. 'We might have a little rain today,' Lucie said, to take both their minds off the accident.

  'That Sarah woman is rather playing you out, isn't she?' Joel asked.

  'Actually she's been very good to me,' Lucie pointed out deliberately. 'I needed the money and Sarah showed me how to get it. It's thanks to her I'm the in face at the moment.'

  'I don't like seeing your face all over magazines other guys can buy.'

  'It's a woman's magazine, Joel,' she pointed out.

  'I wish you'd stop being a model.' Inevitably Joel showed his jealous streak. 'It really buggs me, though I have to admit all your photographs are beautiful.'

  'Maybe you can tell me what else I can do?' Lucie looked down at her beautifully manicured hands, the long painted oval nails. Julian hated nail varnish. He had told her she didn't need it, but it was one of Zara's new line of products.

  'Be my wife,' Joel countered blandly. 'We're ideal for each other in every way.'

  Outside Flair's offices, Joel embraced her possessively. 'See you tonight?'

  'I think I should have an early one.'

  'Then we'll just have a quiet dinner.' The muscles in Joel's good-looking face tightened. 'Call me when you can.'

  When the car moved away, Lucie stood for a moment looking after it, uneasiness stirring. Some days when she was very tired she thought she would give way and marry Joel. It was certain he did love her. He saw nobody else; no beautiful girl he needed or wanted but Lucie. His parents had approved of her right from the beginning, and she had come to like and respect Joel's father in particular. As for Avril—whatever Joel wanted, Avril wanted fiercely. Was it so bad to be loved, to be cherished? At that' point always the thought surfaced: I don't love Joel.

  Lucie turned around and walked into the high-rise modern building. Two hours of too bright lights and cameras, a dozen outfits in turn, then class. Oh, God, what difference did it all make!

  'You're late!' Julian looked directly towards her as she slid soundlessly into the studio.

  'I'm sorry.' Lucie hurried to the bar re with her heart hammering. Several of the other dancers conveyed sympathy to her through their eyes. Talking wasn't allowed when they were working, and they were rehearsing Black Iris. From the atmosphere it was obvious something wasn't going right. Lucie took hold of the barre, raised her right arm and began her barre work before Julian pounced on her.

  Half way down the room Camilla, white-faced and sweating, was practising her big solo.

  'She's no good,' Damien hissed wickedly to Lucie's straight back. 'There won't be anyone like you.'

  Lucie dared not look. The music from the piano was running through her brain. Such a long, long time ago she had been Black Iris, and the most influential ballet critic had called her 'sheer delight'.

  Twenty minutes later it was apparent Camilla's interpretation was not fitting Julian's vision.

  'What is it you want.’ Camilla shouted, in danger of losing control.

  'Anything but that!' Julian's tone was scathing. 'Can't you put yourself in part? Black Iris is a young girl, sensual undoubtedly, but meltingly soft. You're dancing like a veritable Circe!'

  'But it must be different with me,' she insisted.

  'You're infusing the wrong notes into this, Camilla,' Julian said icily. 'Black Iris is essentially virginal. She moves with a mixture of innocence and yearning. Of course I know you're several years past girlhood, but good ballerinas can conjure up youth so well.'

  'Certainly.' Camilla executed several dazzling steps, then over-extended, spoiling the line of her arabesque.

  'Blast!' Julian ran an agitated hand through his thick

  black hair. 'Maybe you're too strong for the "part altogether.'

  'Nobody else gets it,' Camilla shouted. 'No way!'

  'Then you'd better pay attention.' Julian's handsome, dark face was ruthlessly hard. He swung around and found Lucie's hard-working figure. 'Gerard, come here!'

  I won't go. I can't go. I'm not fit for anything, Lucie thought hysterically.

  Even Camilla was bewildered. 'What can she show me?' she called. 'Her day is over.'

  'Like hell it is!' Damien said aloud.

  'Gerard,' Julian said again with perfect ferocity.

  There was nowhere she could hide. Lucie went forward, prepared to show Julian whatever he required of her.

  'You're ready for this by now,' he said severely. 'Leave out all the difficult bits. Show Camilla Black Iris in ess
ence.'

  I have nothing to show. Nothing to show, Lucie thought bitterly. The pianist started again, not tiredly,. merely thumping the bars out, but correctly interpreting the composer. It was ravishing, provocative, exceedingly easy to move to. Apart from the piano, it was very quiet in the studio.

  Lucie is not my name. I am Ley-Ah, an Egyptian princess. It didn't matter that she could not overtax her body. Dancing was joy. All she had to do, quite simply, was portray a young girl in love. She was still blessed with her long neck and her arms and her ideal proportions. The body could appear to be in perfect harmony. She didn't have to attempt that long soaring leap. She did not have to go on to pointe and hold that stunning arabesque. Once she could hold it and hold it

  with effortless grace. Now she had to create a role with her acting—no longer Lucienne Gerard, the technician, but Lucienne Gerard, the subtle actress.

  All of them, every last member of the Company, stopped what they were doing. They stood back against the barre and the mirrored wall looking towards the tiny, fragile Lucie as though their fervent wishes would support her through an ordeal. Yet she was absolutely calm, her great violet eyes, so wonderful for a dancer, transparent with her inner vision, poetry in her raised arms.