Whirlwind (2 page)

Three years of that had stripped her body of every spare ounce of flesh, fined down her features, given her green eyes the burning glow of frenetic discipline. She had been terrified that at the end of her school course she wouldn't get a job in the theatre, but to her amazement she had been offered one at once. It was not what she had dreamt of, but it had paid quite well. She had spent last summer in a seaside repertory company, doing a dozen small parts. At the end of the season she had gone into rehearsal for panto; playing a dancing mushroom in
Puss in Boots,
whirling around the stage in a glittering sequined leotard, carrying a red and white spotted umbrella open over her head, among a crowd of other fairy mushrooms, while the production's comic star tried to catch one of them. Clad in a black cat skin and wickedly flicking his tail, he chased them around, while the audience roared. It was one of the hits of the panto and it had, ironically, got Anna this part in Dame Flossie's new play.

Joey Ross had seen her and on the strength of that performance had decided she had a flair for comedy and would be perfect for the role of a young girl in his coming production.

Anna's part was not as simple as it appeared on the surface; Joey kept reminding her that it walked a razor's edge between farce and tragedy, so that one step too far either way would be disastrous.

'This is an ambivalent moment,' he said today, stopping her with a peremptory gesture. 'Funny, yes—but hauntingly poignant, too. I know it's hard to get all that in such a short speech, but try it again, will you, Anna?'

She took a careful breath, her body poised while she thought about what he'd said, then she spoke her lines again, and this time Joey didn't interrupt, just smiled, nodding, as the cue was picked up by Dame Flossie.

It was almost seven o'clock by the time rehearsals broke up for the day. Anna and Patti left the theatre together, talking about the last scene they had rehearsed. Anna wasn't on stage in it, but Patti was, and unhappily admitted that she felt hopeless about playing with Dame Flossie.

'I feel like a tiny little candle shining next to a lighthouse,' she complained. 'She's marvellous and very kind, but when we're alone on that stage, who's going to notice me?'

Anna gave her an incredulous look. 'But you couldn't outshine her anyway, so why try? The play's the thing—on stage you won't be thinking about yourself, you'll be that girl with her grandmother who's slowly dying. That's all you'll have on your mind.'

Patti had stopped listening, though. Her eyes were fixed on something ahead, her face delicately flushing.

Anna followed the direction of her gaze and frowned, seeing a blue and silver Rolls Royce parked at the kerb outside the theatre. The driver slid out of it as she watched; it was the man who had knocked her over on her way to rehearsals. Anna tensed, her nerves bristling—what was he doing here?

He strolled lazily towards them, his powerful body making an impact even at a distance.

'Hello,' he said in that deep, cool voice, but as Anna opened her mouth to give him a dismissive reply she suddenly realised that he wasn't even looking at her, he was staring at Patti, his mouth twisting in an amused smile.

'Oh . . . hallo . . . ' stammered Patti, and Anna watched her pink face with a frown. Patti's mouth was quivering and her eyes were wide with obvious anxiety.

'I was driving this way and I thought you might like a lift,' he drawled with a hint of mockery.

Patti looked down, biting her lip. 'Well, I . . . that was kind of you, but . . . Mr . . . ?'

My God! She doesn't even know his name, thought Anna. Did he pick her up the way he did me this morning? Patti's nervous reaction to seeing him made it clear that she hadn't invited his pursuit but didn't quite know how to get the message over. She was barely twenty, after all, and hadn't had much experience with men, Anna suspected, certainly not with men of this type. The mocking sophistication of his smile had obviously thrown her completely.

'Laird,' he said softly. 'Laird Montgomery.'

Anna laughed; she couldn't suppress it. The name immediately struck her as comical, unreal; she suspected he had just invented it. No doubt he didn't want Patti to know his real name. He was probably married. He must be in his mid-thirties and he didn't look like a confirmed bachelor, more like a husband looking for some action on the side.

He turned his eyes on her for the first time then, their gaze hard. 'Can we share the joke?'

'I was just wondering what your real name was,' Anna retorted blandly.

Patti took a sharp, indrawn breath, giving her a startled look. Hadn't it occurred to her that he might have made up the name? She really was too innocent to be let out on her own; she was looking like a startled fawn now, her body quivering as if she wanted to run away; and that would be by far the wisest thing for her to do.

'What a suspicious mind you have!' he drawled, mouth crooked. 'Talking of names, do you have one?'

Anna's silent smile was derisive. She looked at Patti. 'We'll miss the bus if we don't hurry, are you coming?' Speak now or forever hold your peace, she thought, her green eyes commanding the other girl. Tell him to get lost, you idiot!

Patti lifted her eyes to the man's hard-boned face, slid them towards the luxurious interior of the blue and silver Rolls. Anna could see the struggle raging in her mind. It was a bitterly cold evening; Patti was dead tired—the temptation must be enormous.

She couldn't guess what Patti would decide to do, and certainly didn't expect her to say huskily, 'Could you . . . give us both a lift?'

His face was impassive as he said, 'Of course,' turning to open the rear door of the limousine.

Patti gave Anna an uncertain look. 'OK, Anna?'

'Why not?' Anna was amused by the compromise between Patti's common sense and her desire to have a drive in the Rolls. It was understandable, though; the car was a thing of beauty and it wasn't every day that you got the chance to ride in one.

Patti slid along the seat and Anna got in beside her, the back of her neck prickling as she felt Laird Montgomery watching the way her long legs moved. He closed the door and walked round to get behind the wheel, and Anna glanced at the girl next to her.

'I hope you know what you're doing,' she murmured quietly. 'He's a bit out of your league, isn't he?'

Patti made a muffled sound, bending her head. Anna saw the back of her neck turn carnation-pink, and her mouth indented. The girl simply had no idea how to deal with a guy of his kind, did she?

'Tell him you've got a date,' she hissed. 'Invent something; any excuse will do.'

He had opened the driver's door and was getting into the car. He turned, his arm along the back of his seat, raising one of those fine, winged black brows. 'Where will it be?' he asked Anna, making it very clear that he intended to drop her first and get Patti alone.

Anna looked sideways at the other girl, her eyes enquiring. Patti swallowed, her face lifted and her eyes meeting Laird Montgomery's briefly.

'Could you drop me first? I've got a date tonight.'

Anna saw the flash of surprise in his hard face, the frown and narrowing eyes.

'A date? What are you talking about?'

Patti moistened her lips, very flushed. 'I'm meeting someone in Wolfstone Square, at the hotel.'

'Wolfstone Square,' he repeated drily. 'I see—the hotel, you said? Right.'

The engine purred into life and Anna leaned back, luxuriating in the scent of expensive leather, the deep upholstery, the smoothness of chrome and polished wood under her hand.

'How did the rehearsal go today?' asked Laird Montgomery over his shoulder.

'We survived,' Anna told him, aware that Patti was staring out of the car window in a fixed way as if trying to pretend she wasn't really here at all. Anna had seen birds do that when a cat was on the prowl, freezing and trying to become invisible, only the nervous glitter of their eyes betraying them. She stared at the back of Laird's head angrily. He was a ruthless, selfish bastard, and for two pins she would tell him so. Couldn't he see Patti was too young to cope with someone like him? Or was that the real attraction? Did he get a perverse kick out of making her shake like a leaf whenever he smiled at her?

The car was heading west, the streets much more elegant now, wider and better lit. Why on earth had Patti asked him to take her to this neck of the woods? Had the name just popped into her head? Anna wondered. Patti was in a state of panic, that no doubt explained it. She hadn't been thinking too clearly.

The car slowed and turned into Wolfstone Square to draw up outside a palatial white fagade. Anna stared curiously at the portico, expecting to see a uniformed doorman spring down the steps to open the door of the Rolls for Patti, but there was no sign of anyone. Patti clambered past her, saying hurriedly, 'Goodnight, Anna, see you tomorrow.' The door opened, blowing Anna's red-gold hair into a wild tangle. By the time she had brushed it down the door had closed again and the Rolls was swishing round the gardens in the centre of the quiet square. Anna turned to look back, but there was no sign of Patti on the pavement; she must have entered the hotel at a run.

'What's your address, Anna?' asked Laird Montgomery, and she looked back at him, their eyes meeting in the mirror over his head.

She gave him the address tersely and as he turned the limousine northward again she debated whether or not to say something to him about Patti. Was there any point? He wasn't likely to take any notice of her views. She frowned, staring out of the window. On the other hand, Patti was much too nice to get mixed up with a man like this.

She leaned forward and he shot her a quick look, then glanced back at the busy road.

'She's just a kid, you know, why don't you leave her alone?' Anna said bluntly. 'She doesn't know the score yet, she's as green as grass—why not leave her that way?'

She saw his wide shoulders stiffen under that cashmere overcoat and his hands tighten on the wheel as the car slowed at traffic lights on red.

Turning, he asked harshly, 'What on earth are you talking about?'

She laughed with deliberate disbelief. 'You don't know? Come off it, we both know what you were after! She's half your age, you know, and quite out of your league.'

His eyes glittered. 'But you're not?' Anna froze as his stare ran insolently over her. 'Are you offering me an alternative entertainment for the evening?'

'No, I am not!' she broke out, her face burning.

'No?' His derisive smile got under her skin; her hands curled into fists.

'No!'

'I was planning a candlelight dinner for two,' he drawled. 'It would be a pity to have to eat alone.''That's tough,' Anna said wrathfully, turning to the door. 'You can forget that idea!' As her hand reached out, the traffic lights turned green and the Rolls moved off smoothly, at speed. She sat on the very edge of the seat, her body tense, her "brow furrowed. He had just admitted tacitly that he was planning a little seduction tonight. The dinner for two had certainly not been intended to end with the coffee and liqueurs. Patti didn't know how lucky she had been; if Anna hadn't been with her as they came out of the theatre Patti would be sitting here now, no doubt in a state of acute panic. Staring out of the window, she sensed that they had stopped moving into the poorer areas in which she lived and were headed back west again into the exclusive district of Mayfair.

'I am not having dinner with you,' she informed him icily.

He laughed. Anna did not like the way he laughed, either; it sounded too much as if he thought she was just playing a game, pretending to be hard to get.

'I'm serious! Stop this car, I want to get out.'

'I've ordered caviare,' he said conversationally. 'With toast and chopped boiled egg and onion, and lemon, of course.'

'Caviare I can take or leave,' Anna said cuttingly.

'And champagne, of course,' he added.

'The bubbles make me sneeze.'

'And then I thought we'd have a Chateaubriand steak,' he went on as if she hadn't said anything.

Anna suddenly thought of the small tin of baked b£ans waiting for her at home; she had been debating whether or not to sprinkle a little curry powder into the beans, just to change the flavour a little. They were full of nutrition and immensely cheap, but she ate them so often.

Steak, she thought, her throat moving convulsively as she imagined it. Am I crazy? Here I am starving for a square meal and I can have one if I…

The Rolls suddenly spun and began to move down a steep incline into an underground car park.

'Where are you going?' she asked in alarm as he pulled up and parked in the shadowy vault. He didn't answer, merely slid out and slammed his door, came round and opened hers. Anna stayed glued to her seat, her eyes dilated and her body shivering, all her bravado gone. She wasn't afraid of Laird Montgomery—she was scared of herself. Tempted by all that lovely food, she didn't know if she could handle this.

'Do you want a formal invitation?' he asked mockingly. 'Very well.' He bowed, offering one well- shaped hand. 'May I have the pleasure of your company at dinner?'

'And afterwards?' Anna muttered feverishly, trying to calculate her chances of fighting him off later.

'I'll drive you home.'

The cool reply made her stare uncertainly; he met her gaze without blinking, his mouth wry.

'If that's what you want,' he added, somewhat spoiling the effect.

it
will
be what I want!' Anna threw at him with vehemence, and knew that she had made her decision and that Laird Montgomery was aware of it too. He was smiling with bland satisfaction; but if he thought she might change her mind once he had poured some wine into her he was going to find he was mistaken. Anna might have dinner with him, but that was as far as it went.

T
HE
lift shot upwards at a rate that made Anna gasp, her stomach still on the ground floor. "What is this place?' she asked, and Laird Montgomery's reply made her stiffen.

'An office block.'