Unguarded Moment (13 page)

As she took her drink with a murmured word of thanks and moved over to sit opposite him, Leon gave her a frankly worried look.

'This is a pretty kettle of fish,' he muttered.

Alix found herself wondering which particular section of the whole mess he was referring to. It was like Leon to use an outdated metaphor like that, she thought. It was the kind of thing which so often in the past had led business rivals and opponents to underestimate him—to their cost.

Now he said ruefully, 'I've slipped up this time, Alix. By the time we leave here, Bianca will be looking for a new agent.'

'Of course she won't,' said Alix, soothing but startled. 'You couldn't possibly have known.'

He passed a hand wearily over his thinning hair. 'Thanks for the testimonial, my dear, but it just isn't true. I should have known. It's what I'm paid for.'

To keep track of Bianca's former lovers, and their new relationships? He couldn't be serious, Alix thought bewilderedly. But Leon wasn't joking, and rarely did anyway. He was a worried man, and showing it, which was a very different reaction from his usual twitch of distaste over Bianca's emotional involvements and their inevitable aftermath.

Of course, her involvement with Liam hadn't been totally emotional. There was also the book which Bianca imagined she had successfully managed to shelve. She might well feel that Leon who had set up this meeting with Veronese should have checked to find out who else was going to be there.

And yet what could Leon have done? Alix thought. It Was Veronese's house. He was entitled to invite anyone he liked, even if he was pressured into it. And Bianca really wanted this film. A cartload of vindictive ex-husbands wouldn't have kept her away, let alone one unwanted biographer.

She said tentatively, 'I'm sure you're exaggerating. It's—unfortunate, I admit, but…'

'Unfortunate?' he 'echoed, his pale eyes staring at her as if she had suddenly grown an extra head. 'My God, Alix, you don't realise…' He stopped abruptly, closing his mouth tightly as the door at the far end of the room opened and Carlo Veronese entered smiling.

'Giovanni has been looking after you both? Good, good. I am sorry I was not here, but I was called to the telephone. You know how it is. Leon, you have finished your drink. Let me fix you another. Alix,
cara
, how charming you look tonight.'

Alix watched astonished as Leon accepted another gin and tonic. He must be upset, she thought, because he could usually make one drink last an entire session. He was famous for setting up liquid lunches for other people, and adroit at avoiding the consequences himself. She hoped she wasn't going to have to cope with a drunken Leon as well as everything else.

In an attempt to draw attention from his glum expression, she asked Carlo about the pictures and he was delighted, drawing her hand through his arm and leading her round the room as he talked about them. He was knowledgeable, but what warmed Alix was the evident fact that he was not merely a collector for art's sake, but genuinely loved the paintings he had chosen. She wasn't sure she shared his taste completely, but she couldn't fail to be interested in what he had to say.

Although she didn't hear the door open, she knew exactly when Liam entered the room by the prickle of awareness which lifted the hair on the back of her neck. Hidden in the folds of her skirt, her hands balled into fists and she felt consumed by tension as she smiled and nodded and listened without hearing to what Carlo was saying about the Post-Impressionists.

'Giving one of your art lessons, Carlo?' His voice just behind them sounded amused.

Carlo laughed goodhumouredly. 'And why not, my friend? It isn't often I have so charming, and so captive an audience.'

Alix went on staring at the painting so fixedly, she thought she could probably reproduce every brushmark from memory. He was standing so close to her that she could feel the warmth from his body, and her legs were weak as if her bones were dissolving.

And he knew, she thought hating both him and herself. He would know from her response by the pool, exactly what effect he was having on her. Well, she was damned if she would let him see that he could manipulate her like some helpless marionette!

She turned slowly, her eyes steady, her smile cool, and those betraying clenched hands well hidden.

'Are you interested in art, Mr Brant?' The use of the surname moved him to a distance for her, mentally if not physically.

His expression was sardonic as if he could read her mind.

'Yes—without considering myself a connoisseur of any particular period or style. In Italy of course that isn't necessary. There are riches on all sides from every age.'

'But this Alix will know already,' Carlo put it. 'You, have been to Italy before,
cara
? You have seen Florence—Venice—Rome?'

She shook her head. 'I'm afraid not This is my first visit, and it isn't a sightseeing trip.' She could have added that as far as Bianca was concerned the entire glory of Bernini, Michelangelo, Titian, Canaletto and everyone else could be laid out for her inspection and she would pass by without a second glance. Lester Marchant had tried unavailingly to get her to take an interest in painting, and to invest in it. Bianca herself preferred jewellery, which Alix privately considered rather soulless.

'But you will not be working all the time. Even the most conscientious secretary deserves some hours to herself. We will have to see what can be arranged. We cannot let her visit Italy for the first time and see nothing of the treasures of the past, can we, Liam?'

Alix felt her polite smile freeze on her lips. 'Not this time, I'm afraid. Bianca really does keep me busy, you see.'

'At her London home, when you are in America, yes.' Carlo was clearly puzzled. 'But here, there cannot be so much for you to do.'

Except be at her beck and call all day long, whenever the mood takes her, Alix thought but did not say.

'Even when she's travelling, she likes to deal with her correspondence,' she prevaricated smoothly. 'I'll make a special trip some time.'

'A package tour,' Liam said softly. 'All the art centres of Europe in ten days with a coachload of other culture vultures.'

She glared at him silently, knowing that be was simply trying to provoke her. Ever since childhood, she had dreamed of seeing Italy—Venice particularly. However commercialised, however crumbling, however odorous in high summer, La Serenissima had an aura of romance about it which had always silently called to her. She could have afforded a holiday there easily since she had started working for Bianca. She had even considered it on a couple of occasions, and yet something had always stopped her. Something which told her that Venice was not a city to be visited in solitude. It was impossible to imagine oneself in a gondola alone, or feeding the pigeons in the Piazza San Marco without having someone there to share the fun of it. But she had never had any clear idea of the person she wanted to take her to Venice.

At least not until now, she thought painfully.

'Oh, we will have to plan something more exciting than that,' Carlo was saying. 'She is a dear girl, our little Alix. She likes my pictures, or at least she does not say that she dislikes them.' And he chuckled.

'She's certainly very discreet,' Liam said drily. His eyes went over her, leaving her in little doubt about what he thought of her dress. 'Or she is most of the time.'

'Now you're being enigmatic, my friend,' Carlo accused jovially. 'We will not ask what you mean, I think. Instead I will get you a drink. Your usual whisky and water?'

'Thanks,' Liam nodded, still watching Alix. She felt the colour beginning to rise in her face and made to turn away, but he reached out a hand and took her arm, stopping her in her tracks.

'Where are you running to now?' he asked.

'I wasn't aware I was running anywhere,' she said stiffly. 'I was going to talk to Leon. I think he's in need of some company.' And also apparently in need of yet another gin and tonic, she noticed with alarm.

His face was sardonic. 'And I don't need company, of course.'

'I'd have thought this villa contains more than you can handle already,' she muttered.

'Presumably you know what you mean by that. I don't, but nor do I intend to enquire.' He put out a finger and flicked at the broderie anglaise collar. 'I see the Puritan age has returned. You really do go from one extreme to the other, don't you, secretary bird?'

'If you say so.' She gave a slight shrug. 'I forgot— you're an expert on women's clothes. I suppose you know exactly how I should be dressed.'

'What interests me far more,' he said, 'is knowing exactly how you should be undressed. In fact, I can hardly wait.'

Alix gasped and stepped back slightly, spilling a little of her drink down her skirt as she did so.

'Oh, look what you've made me do!' she exclaimed distressfully.

'Don't expect me to apologise,' he said. 'If it means that you're going to change out of that rag into something that befits the woman we both know you're capable of being, then that's all to the good.'

'I haven't the slightest intention of changing,' she said coldly. 'This material fortunately doesn't stain.'

'I could make a whole list of the things it doesn't do,' he said pleasantly. 'Would you like to hear some of them?'

'No!' she almost spat at him. 'Oh, why can't you leave me alone?'

'Because I don't want to, and if you're honest you'll admit that isn't what you want either.' His voice was cool. 'I have an excellent memory—almost total recall, in fact—but even if I hadn't, I'd hardly have forgotten what you said to me at the pool this afternoon, just before we were interrupted. Or do you need to .be reminded?'

'No.' She glanced around desperately for Carlo, willing him to return with Liam's drink, but he was deep in conversation with Leon.

'Good,' he approved mockingly. 'I'm relieved to know you don't issue such invitations indiscriminately.'

'It wasn't intended as an invitation.' Her voice was almost inaudible. 'I—I didn't know what I was saying…' Her voice stopped abruptly as she realised too late what a damaging admission that was.

'But you know what you're saying now,' his voice was dangerously soft. 'And I challenge you, Alix, to look me in the face and tell me you didn't mean it. That the invitation is withdrawn. That you don't want me.'

It could hardly have been simpler, she thought. He'd even told her the words to use, so why didn't she speak? Almost compulsively, she moistened her dry lips with the tip of her tongue as she fought for utterance.

His voice became softer still. 'I said—look at me, Alix.'

She couldn't. That was the impossible condition. There was no way she could lift her eyes to his and risk him' reading the misery and uncertainty and frank yearning that he might see there.

And as she hesitated, salvation came with the opening of the door and Bianca's voice. 'Darlings, am I late? Have I kept you all waiting?'

They all swung towards her as if she had been a magnet She was dazzling tonight in an emerald green silk dress, the slender skirt deeply slashed from the hem to above the knee, and wide straps rising from the low-cut bodice to cross each other before fastening in a halter around her neck. Her dark hair was almost completely hidden beneath an exotically swathed turban in matching silk, and her hands and arms were bare except for a bracelet of emeralds set in white gold on her left wrist.

She stood in the doorway for a moment, then came forward smiling and extending her hands to Carlo, who kissed each of them in turn. It was a perfect entrance, perfectly executed, Alix thought wryly. Yet she herself couldn't even manage one simple line.

Not that it mattered now. Liam had gone to join Leon and Carlo, like satellites around some radiant planet.

Alix watched apprehensively to see what her reaction was, but if Liam's unexpected appearance had thrown her, Bianca gave no sign of it. On the contrary.

'Liam, darling!' Her voice had an intimate throatiness. 'Why didn't you tell me? We could have travelled together.'

He smiled. 'I wanted to surprise you,' he said smoothly. 'And I actually arrived several days ago.'

'So that was why you didn't answer any of my calls.' Bianca sounded reproachful, and the smile she gave him was almost wistful.

Alix had seen it happening many times before. It was what she called Bianca's silken thread in operation. A man might not even realise that it held him, until with one twitch she brought him back to the delights of her captivity.

She couldn't just let them go, Alix had realised a long time ago. She couldn't just let them slide away into oblivion. They had to be kept at the end of the thread until Bianca herself chose to cut it.

Only Liam, it seemed, had come dangerously near to breaking free of his own accord.

Alix lifted her glass and drank what was left in it in one swift gulp. He certainly wouldn't be allowed to escape again. And his captivity promised her freedom.

'Alix, my pet!' Bianca was floating towards her now. 'You look positively wan. Has the journey destroyed you? You shouldn't have come down, darling. Monty's having a tray in her room. I'm sure Carlo would arrange for you to do the same.'

The tone was one of sweet concern, but Bianca's eyes were as hard as agates. What had she seen as she paused in the doorway? Alix wondered. Had she noticed her with Liam, and summed up the situation with her usual shrewdness? It hardly seemed likely. And yet with Bianca one never knew.

Suddenly Alix was angry. She would not be sent to her room like a naughty child, although the girl she had been until a few weeks ago would undoubtedly have submitted to so palpable a hint.

'I'm perfectly fine, thank you,' she returned. 'Signor Veronese is in the middle of telling me about his collection of paintings.'

'Oh, really?' Bianca's smile was a little rigid. 'Carlo darling, you really mustn't let this child impose on you just because she happens to be my cousin. She is also my employee, and is here to work.'

'As she has emphasised to me several times already,' Carlo said calmly. 'If she is a little pale, a good dinner and some red wine will soon return the colour to her cheeks, I think. Besides, I wish her to become better acquainted with Paola, and she cannot do that if she goes to eat in her room.'