Beaumont Brides Collection (60 page)

‘Oh, God. I think I’m going to be sick.’

‘Don’t you dare,’ he said, sharply. ‘You’re going to stay right here while I look around.’ Too weak to argue, she leaned back and slid down the wall, wrapping her arms around her head.

Mac came back. ‘No one’s been inside,’ he said. He meant to be reassuring, but Claudia still felt as if her living space had been in some way defiled. He touched her shoulder and she looked up. ‘Come on,’ he said, more gently and she allowed him to help her to her feet before she shook him off and stepping over the letter she closed the door on the outside world and rammed home the bolt with shaking fingers.

All that casual bravado undone by the sight of something as innocent as an envelope lying on the mat. And suddenly she had to know what it said. Before Mac could stop her she had bent and picked it up, ripping it open savagely. For a moment she stared at it, uncomprehending, her hands shaking. Then she laughed. She put the back of her to her mouth to stifle the sound, but it gurgled from her, unstoppable as the tears that began to stream down her cheeks.

He took the paper from her unresisting hand. There wasn’t much. But then none of them had said much. It was what they said. And this one was no different in its sly nastiness.

HELLO CLAUDIA, HOW DOES IT FEEL TO BE HOME? SAFE?

He released a small, explosive sound and folding his arms about her, pulled her hard into the protection of his body, holding her tight, crooning softly to her until the hiccupping sobs began to subside and she laid her head into the curve of his neck, quietly resting against him until her own racketing pulse matched the slow, steady thump of his.

And even then she didn’t want to move. But she had to.

‘I’m sorry, Mac,’ she said, pulling away a little. ‘I know I’ve been nothing but a nuisance since the first moment you set eyes on me. I’d quite understand if you don’t want anything to do with me. You can go anytime. Really. I’ll be fine.’

He looked down at her, but her eyes were closed and she was unaware of the softening of his mouth, his eyes. She looked bruised. Nothing to do with slightly darker patch under one eye, or the slight swelling of her lip, but emotionally beaten. He could think of any number of ways to soothe her, bring the colour back to her cheeks. It took every ounce of willpower to reject every one of them.

Instead he said, ‘Do you remember what you said to me at the airfield on Friday morning? When you thought I was stringing you a line about changing the parachute?’ He saw from her blush that she did. ‘Then consider it returned with interest. Now why don’t you go and make yourself useful while I make some calls?’

She withdrew reluctantly from the comfort of his arms. ‘What do you want me to do?’

‘What every red-blooded English woman does in a crisis. Make a pot of tea.’

‘You’re joking.’ The moment of tenderness was over and he didn’t even bother to answer her. But even as she opened her mouth to tell him in no uncertain terms that he could make his owned damned tea Claudia realised that he was just giving her something to do, keeping her busy. She gave a little shiver, rubbed her arms, decided to find a sweater. She stopped in the doorway. ‘If you’re staying what will you do for clothes?’

‘You can leave me to worry about that.’ It hadn’t taken him long to return to his usual stonewalling.

Why wouldn’t he talk to her?

‘I suppose at the snap of your fingers one of your personal army will jump to attention and pack a bag for you.’ He took no notice of her, but lifting the telephone receiver he began to punch in a number. Claudia wasn’t used to being ignored. ‘I suppose they’re all ex-soldiers?’ she persisted.

He cut the connection and turned to her. She expected him to be angry, but he wasn’t.

‘They’re not my army, Claudia. They’re not my anything. We’re just a group of friends who do what we’re good at and help one another out from time to time. That’s all,’ he said, clearly trying to be patient, as if he was talking to a slightly tiresome child.

She didn’t think it was quite that simple but on the whole thought she preferred him mad. ‘Like your discreet chauffeur service for instance?’ she asked, provoking him further. She could be wrong but that had seemed just a bit too well rehearsed to be some casual arrangement.

‘It’s a perfectly normal car hire business, Claudia. In fact they specialise in weddings using vintage cars. But when I need a car and driver for something special I know I can count on them.’

‘I’m not sure that I believe you.’

The patience was wearing thin. ‘I’m not sure I care very much what you believe. It’s really none of your business.’

‘It is if you’re planning to take over my life.’

He was taking over her life? Did she think he had nothing better to do than play nurse-maid to a frightened actress? Mac felt the quick surge of anger drain away from him. Frightened. That was the key word. She was frightened out of her wits and trying very hard not to let it show. Perhaps he was being a little hard on her.

‘We’re not some gung-ho outfit, Claudia,’ he said, more gently. ‘The whole thing is very low key. A group of communications specialists, transport experts, couriers-’

‘And security. They all fit together very nicely.’

‘When necessary. Mostly we do our own thing, but we complement one another and we work well together. Occasionally I put a team together for a special job but that’s the exception.’

She still looked doubtful. ‘I hope I don’t come under that category.’

‘That rather depends how sensible you’re going to be. If you insist on carrying on with nightly appearances in Private Lives I’m afraid you probably will.’

‘I don’t have a choice, Mac. People are relying on me. You should understand that.’

‘But you don’t have to stay here.’

Her mouth took on a stubborn line. ‘I won’t be driven out of my own home.’ Even when it felt comfortless and chilling. She shivered again. ‘But I’d be a lot happier if you’d stay with me.’

Mac noticed the shiver. Every instinct screamed at him to go to her; he ignored them all. It was tough, but he didn’t want to make it easy for her to stay put.

‘I suppose we could install CCTV on all the entrances,’ he offered, unenthusiastically. ‘And we’ll need a porter downstairs to monitor the post, check visitors in and out. You know your neighbours. How do you think they’ll react?’

‘By asking their insurance companies for a reduction on their premiums if they’ve any sense.’

He’d hoped this vision of disruption to other people’s lives would have given her pause. But she was probably right, the rest of the tenants would no doubt welcome the extra security, especially if they didn’t have to pay for it. ‘What about the landlord?’

‘You’ll have no trouble from the landlord,’ she assured him.

‘I see.’

‘No, you don’t, Mac. I’m the landlord but I’d rather you kept that little gem to yourself since none of the other tenants know.’ She gave a little shrug at his raised eyebrows. ‘Mother left Fizz and me some money. Fizz sank all hers into her radio station, I bought this. But I prefer the managing agents to deal with complaints about dripping taps.’

‘You don’t have to excuse yourself to me.’

‘Don’t I? Then why do I feel you’re constantly judging me?’

He didn’t know. He had no idea why he felt the constant need to test her. Or maybe he knew only too well; he just wasn’t ready to admit it to himself.

‘You’re determined to stay put?’ he countered.

‘I need to be in London, Mac. And I refuse to hide.’

She looked the way she had before she’d jumped out of the aircraft. Scared but determined. She was going to stay in her own apartment and nothing he did was going to persuade her otherwise.

‘In that case I’d better get on with organising it.’

‘You do that. I’ll go and make your tea.’ She turned towards the kitchen, but instead of getting back to the telephone, Mac followed her. ‘You know this isn’t over, don’t you? This guy isn’t going to give up and go away.’

‘Maybe if I don’t react he’ll get bored.’

‘He might. Or he might just be driven to do something more dramatic, simply to get your attention.’

‘More dramatic?’ The wobble in her voice gave him hope and he went to her, took her shoulders, forced her to look up at him.

‘For the last forty-eight hours you’ve been on the run from this, Claudia. He’s been in control, jerking your strings, watching you jump. For heaven’s sake walk away. Give yourself a bit a space.’

‘And where will I go?’

‘There must be somewhere, someone who could offer you a-’

‘A bed?’ Some man, he meant. ‘Melanie?’ she offered. ‘Would that be wise? He anticipated I’d go to Fizz.’

‘He knows you. He knew you’d go there first. And I didn’t mean family.’

‘I know what you meant, Mac. But for your information I don’t keep a handy cache of lovers just on the off chance that I might need a bed for the night, although even if I had it would be none of your damn business. And perhaps now is as good a time as any to tell you that if you stay here, you’ll be sleeping in the spare room.’

He stared at her for a moment. ‘Then I guess we understand one another,’ he said, at last.

‘I understand you, Mac. Whether you understand me is a moot point. Meanwhile, whoever this person is, he’ll almost certainly catch up with me sooner or later no matter where I go. At least here you can install your toys, watch my back. If you still want to, that is.’ She rubbed at the gooseflesh that stippled her arms.

‘We’ll stay here if you insist. But on my terms. I’ll be laying down a whole heap of rules and you’ll have to do exactly as I say.’

We. He was staying. She hadn’t realised how much she was relying on that. ‘You expect me to do exactly what you say?’ she repeated.

‘Without question.’

‘I’ve never done exactly what I’ve been told in my entire life,’ she warned him.

‘Then the next few days should prove interesting. Shall we have a trial run?’

She held up her hands. ‘I know, I know, you’re still waiting for your tea. I’m afraid I’m not very good at the domestic stuff.’

‘I’m sure we’ll manage. But forget the tea for the moment, right now I want you to go and find something warmer to wear. You look like a plucked chicken.’

‘Well, thanks. Compliments are always welcome. But it’s nerves, not cold,’ she told him, changing her mind about the sweater. ‘I’m just the same before I go on stage.’

‘How interesting. Shall we try that one again?’ he suggested, very softly, the words dropping against her breastbone with an almost tangible insistence. ‘Go and change into something warmer.’

He was ordering her to change her clothes. Without question? ‘You don’t like my dress, is that it?’

‘Your dress?’ Mac tried not to think about the way the scrap of bodice clung to her breasts, the way the shortest of skirts swirled around her long slender legs. He had been trying very hard not to think about it all day, without notable success. ‘Your dress is fine,’ he said, woodenly, ‘as far as it goes. But it doesn’t go very far does it?’

‘It suits me.’

She was challenging him. Now that she had got her way about staying in the flat, she was making a push to establish herself as the one in control. He knew that if he shrugged and told her to do what she wanted, she would immediately do what he had told her do and find something warmer to wear.

Adele had been just the same as a kid. Maybe it was a female thing, but Claudia wasn’t kidding when she said she didn’t like taking orders.

‘It suits you just fine, Claudia. In fact you look quite stunning in it.’ The gooseflesh, he noticed, disappeared as she relaxed a little, warming to his compliment. He took two sets of door keys from his pocket and placed them on the kitchen counter. ‘Here are your keys. Two sets. I’d advise you not to let them out of your sight.’

‘I won’t, I promise.’ She’d promise him anything, but she was only delivering when it suited her.

‘I don’t think it would be a good idea to give a set to one of your neighbours, or your cleaning lady, or even your managing agents for the time being.’ He turned back into the hall and tapping the alarm box as he went, but not stopping, he said, ‘I’ve changed the code on your alarm system to nine two five seven. Can you remember that?’

‘Nine two five seven. Consider it done,’ she said as he unbolted the front door and finally turned to face her. ‘Where are you going?’

‘And I would advise you to be extremely wary of unexpected packages. Even packages that you are expecting.’

She looked confused, and he noted with interest that the gooseflesh was back. ‘Mac?’

She looked like a child, he thought. Lost and alone. He wanted to race back to her, sweep her up into his arms and hold her. Keeping his expression detached, his voice brisk, was as hard a thing as he had ever done.

‘Goodbye, Claudia,’ he said, and without waiting for her reaction, he closed the door behind him. He was half way down the stairs when she wrenched it open again.

‘I’m sorry,’ she called after him. He didn’t stop, didn’t look back and after a second he heard her footsteps behind him. ‘Mac, please. I understand what you’re doing and I’m sorry.’