smoked salmon. 'Perhaps you had something better to do, is that it?'
'You know I like to dance,' he drawled, 'and you seemed busy with Van Allen. This is great caviar, you should try some.'
'Are you enjoying it?' Zandra snapped at Debra.
'Yes, thank you,' Debra said politely.
'One assumes that you've never had it before?' Zandra was in such a temper that she didn't even pretend to be polite. She looked Debra up and down and it seemed to fuel her anger that Debra looked cool and charming in her white dress set off by her chestnut hair, jade-pinned.
'No, I've never had caviar before,' Debra agreed. 'It reminds me a little of the cod's roe I always took home for my supper on Friday evenings.'
Debra heard a spluttering sound as Stuart nearly choked on a swallow of champagne.
'Is that meant to be funny?' Zandra demanded.
Debra looked wide-eyed and shook her head. 'Fried cod's roe is delicious, especially with chips and a cup of tea.'
'You impertinent little typist!' Zandra was fuming. 'You weren't meant to be at this party, for we don't usually invite the staff!'
'Zandra!' Stuart was abruptly unamused. 'I don't know what's got into you, but if you want to pick on someone then choose me. I'm used to dealing with the tantrums of actresses—they're inclined to be touchy if the spotlight isn't on them the whole time.'
There was a flash of diamonds and Stuart caught and gripped Zandra's wrist a moment before she struck him. She glared at him, he stared at her, and Debra quickly walked away, heading into what she thought was an alcove and found to be an archway into a conservatory that led off from the immense ballroom.
The dance music followed her into the green sanctuary, with its domed glass ceiling, masses of indoor plants, and pale lilies spinning on the pond where gold fish swam lazily beneath the heart-shaped leaves.
Debra drew a shaken breath. Oh lord, what a scene! Zandra was hopelessly in love with Stuart and he quite obviously didn't feel the same way about her. He had a certain charm, but he used people and he had casually hinted that he had ingratiated himself with Zandra because he was ambitious and she had social and theatrical connections. They were the main attraction where he was concerned, and despite the way the actress had spoken to her, Debra couldn't help feeling a kind of sympathy.
Hadn't she herself felt a stab of unwanted jealousy when she had glanced across the dance floor and seen the girl in gold holding the attention of Rodare Salvador.
It was a hateful feeling and Debra sank down into a fan-backed cane chair and drank from the champagne flute which she still held in her hand. She wanted her nerves to get back to normal. She wanted to be again the cool, composed girl she had been while working in London. She wanted to dislike that haughty Spaniard for the way he had looked at her while she danced with Stuart. Anyone would think he had caught her in Stuart's arms for a more intimate purpose!
She sank back in the cane chair and it creaked a little, and, as if in answer, she caught a movement at the other side of the foliage; there came a click, then a drift of aromatic smoke, followed by a definite footfall.
He stood there suddenly, the man who caused her a similar kind of desperation to that which his half-sister suffered at the hands of Stuart Coltan.
'I didn't think it would be long,' he remarked, 'before you took to cover. Are you in hiding from that young predator?'
'It was your sister, señor , who made me take to my heels.'
'She also saw you dancing with Coltan, eh?'
'I'm afraid so.'
'Why be afraid, Miss Hartway?'
'You know why, señor .' The Spanish way of addressing him came so naturally to her lips, and in view of the many exotic plants surrounding them, they might have been alone together in far away Andalucia. It was such a fantastic notion that she blamed it on the champagne.
'You think my sister was impolite to you because she has taken a fancy to Coltan, eh?'
'Yes.'
'You know I like to dance,' he drawled, 'and you seemed busy with Van Allen. This is great caviar, you should try some.'
'Are you enjoying it?' Zandra snapped at Debra.
'Yes, thank you,' Debra said politely.
'One assumes that you've never had it before?' Zandra was in such a temper that she didn't even pretend to be polite. She looked Debra up and down and it seemed to fuel her anger that Debra looked cool and charming in her white dress set off by her chestnut hair, jade-pinned.
'No, I've never had caviar before,' Debra agreed. 'It reminds me a little of the cod's roe I always took home for my supper on Friday evenings.'
Debra heard a spluttering sound as Stuart nearly choked on a swallow of champagne.
'Is that meant to be funny?' Zandra demanded.
Debra looked wide-eyed and shook her head. 'Fried cod's roe is delicious, especially with chips and a cup of tea.'
'You impertinent little typist!' Zandra was fuming. 'You weren't meant to be at this party, for we don't usually invite the staff!'
'Zandra!' Stuart was abruptly unamused. 'I don't know what's got into you, but if you want to pick on someone then choose me. I'm used to dealing with the tantrums of actresses—they're inclined to be touchy if the spotlight isn't on them the whole time.'
There was a flash of diamonds and Stuart caught and gripped Zandra's wrist a moment before she struck him. She glared at him, he stared at her, and Debra quickly walked away, heading into what she thought was an alcove and found to be an archway into a conservatory that led off from the immense ballroom.
The dance music followed her into the green sanctuary, with its domed glass ceiling, masses of indoor plants, and pale lilies spinning on the pond where gold fish swam lazily beneath the heart-shaped leaves.
Debra drew a shaken breath. Oh lord, what a scene! Zandra was hopelessly in love with Stuart and he quite obviously didn't feel the same way about her. He had a certain charm, but he used people and he had casually hinted that he had ingratiated himself with Zandra because he was ambitious and she had social and theatrical connections. They were the main attraction where he was concerned, and despite the way the actress had spoken to her, Debra couldn't help feeling a kind of sympathy.
Hadn't she herself felt a stab of unwanted jealousy when she had glanced across the dance floor and seen the girl in gold holding the attention of Rodare Salvador.
It was a hateful feeling and Debra sank down into a fan-backed cane chair and drank from the champagne flute which she still held in her hand. She wanted her nerves to get back to normal. She wanted to be again the cool, composed girl she had been while working in London. She wanted to dislike that haughty Spaniard for the way he had looked at her while she danced with Stuart. Anyone would think he had caught her in Stuart's arms for a more intimate purpose!
She sank back in the cane chair and it creaked a little, and, as if in answer, she caught a movement at the other side of the foliage; there came a click, then a drift of aromatic smoke, followed by a definite footfall.
He stood there suddenly, the man who caused her a similar kind of desperation to that which his half-sister suffered at the hands of Stuart Coltan.
'I didn't think it would be long,' he remarked, 'before you took to cover. Are you in hiding from that young predator?'
'It was your sister, señor , who made me take to my heels.'
'She also saw you dancing with Coltan, eh?'
'I'm afraid so.'
'Why be afraid, Miss Hartway?'
'You know why, señor .' The Spanish way of addressing him came so naturally to her lips, and in view of the many exotic plants surrounding them, they might have been alone together in far away Andalucia. It was such a fantastic notion that she blamed it on the champagne.
'You think my sister was impolite to you because she has taken a fancy to Coltan, eh?'
'Yes.'
Similar Books
