‘Stuff the clothing collection!’ exclaimed Warren. ‘If you really cared about me, you’d put me before the clothing collection any time.’
‘Don’t let him paint you into a corner, Beth,’ warned Daniel. ‘He’s only trying to manipulate you. You don’t have to give in. It’s your choice.’
Warren shot Daniel a glance filled with hatred and then crossed the room to Beth. Seizing her by both arms, he shook her angrily.
‘For the last time,’ he insisted, ‘are you coming with me or not?’
Beth hesitated.
‘I can’t, Warren!’ she protested. ‘It’s not only my hopes that are riding on this project. Other people are involved too. My mother gave me a thousand dollars towards my air fare, which she really couldn’t afford. You know she couldn’t! And so long as there’s any chance of replacing this collection, I’ve got to keep trying. I can’t just let her down. Don’t you see?’
Warren ignored her pleading expression.
‘I don’t think your mother is half as hard up as she likes to pretend,’ he snorted. ‘Anyway, I think you’re wasting your time and I’m certainly not getting dragged into all this extra work for nothing. I’m going back to LA. Now are you coming with me or not?’
A sudden wave of rebellion rose in Beth’s heart. Her eyes met Daniel’s and she looked away hastily.
‘No,’ she muttered.
Warren swore violently under his breath and made for the door again.
‘I will see you in LA at the show, won’t I?’ demanded Beth, hurrying after him.
‘Don’t count on it,’ snapped Warren and he slammed the door behind him.
Beth sank down on to the sofa and covered her face with her hands.
‘Good for you,’ said Daniel approvingly, gripping her shoulder.
She shrugged off his hand with an impatient movement.
‘Oh, I hope I did the right thing,’ she fretted. ‘It makes me feel so guilty to see Warren leaving like that.’
‘So you’re going to fall to pieces about it, are you?’
The taunt was as sharp and sudden as a slap in the face. Beth’s head jerked up and her hands moved back into her lap, curling instinctively into fists of rage. A moment before she had felt like bursting into tears, but now she felt like hitting someone.
‘How dare you?’ she cried. ‘It’s all your fault. If you hadn’t goaded him like that, he wouldn’t have left!’
‘Don’t worry, sweetheart,’ retorted Daniel. ‘If you ask me, having him go forever is the best thing that could possibly happen to you.’
‘He hasn’t gone forever!’ flashed Beth. ‘He’ll come back; he always does.’
Daniel sat down on a chair and leaned forward with his powerful forearms on his muscular thighs. ‘Oh, so he makes a habit of this, does he?’ he challenged. ‘Throwing prima donna tantrums and walking out on you?’
‘Don’t be so hateful!’ blazed Beth. ‘If I weren’t a guest in your house and if I weren’t under an obligation to you about these clothes, I’d—’
‘You’d what?’ purred Daniel. ‘You’d lash out at me like the stormy little spitfire I’ve always sensed you are, instead of the porcelain doll you pretend to be? Well, go ahead, tell me what you really think of me. I’d like to know. Although I can’t expect any shrewd insights from a girl who wants to marry a man like that.’
Beth gulped for breath.
‘All right, you asked for it,’ she seethed. ‘If you want to know the truth, I think you’re arrogant, ruthless and manipulative! You ride over people like a steamroller and you don’t give them a chance to make any choices of their own. And you’re totally unscrupulous about the way you use your assets to convince them to do what you want. Just because you’re loaded with power and money and sex appeal—’
‘With what?’ asked Daniel pleasantly.
Beth winced and felt a fiery colour mount to her cheeks. ‘Sex appeal,’ she stammered faintly.
Daniel stroked his chin and a glint came into his dark eyes.
‘Yes, I thought that was what you said,’ he murmured smugly. ‘But don’t let me interrupt. Continue.’
Beth flashed him a murderous look.
‘You’re hateful,’ she cried unsteadily. ‘You know perfectly well what I mean. There’s some kind of extraordinary magnetism which you use to browbeat people even when they’re really unwilling to do what you want.’
Daniel’s whole body tensed so that he looked like a hunting panther about to strike.
‘Unwilling?’ he growled. ‘Are you telling me you were unwilling in the conservatory last night?’
Beth hung her head.
‘Yes,’ she cried. And then honesty overwhelmed her. ‘No... I don’t know! You make me so confused I don’t know anything any more and I hate it. I don’t feel as if I’m in control of my life. It makes me so angry.’
‘I see,’ agreed Daniel, nodding thoughtfully. ‘Angry. And you’re quite sure it’s me you’re angry with?’
‘What do you mean?’ demanded Beth defensively. ‘Who else could it be?’
Daniel smiled sardonically.
‘Yourself,’ he suggested. ‘Or that fool that you’re involved with.’
‘Leave Warren out of this!’ Beth flared. ‘What I feel towards you is nothing to do with him.’
‘Isn’t it?’ he challenged. ‘Are you sure that you aren’t angry with him for abandoning you for twenty-four hours without even trying to find out how you were? Or for refusing to buck in and help you do a difficult job? Or that you aren’t angry with yourself for resenting him and feeling attracted to me?’
Beth clapped her hands over her ears. ‘Stop it!’ she begged.
Daniel grabbed her hands and hauled them away. ‘The truth hurts, doesn’t it?’ he taunted.
‘It isn’t the truth!’
‘Isn’t it?’ His eyes were dark with tiny, glimmering points of light at the centre of the pupils and his face was thrust so close to hers that she could see the predatory curve of his nose, the dark shadow of his beard beneath his skin and smell the faint, spicy aroma of his aftershave mingled with the powerful, arousing scent of his body. She let out breath in a long, harsh sigh.
‘No,’ she gasped.
This time his smile was no more than a bitter sneer.
‘You’re lying,’ he growled.
‘No, I’m not!’ protested Beth, trying to step backwards out of his hold. But he drew her relentlessly towards him, pressing her so close against him that she could feel the heat of his body through the thin clothes and sense the tension in his muscles. Every nerve in her body quivered at that contact and for an instant she swayed against him, letting her eyes flutter closed as she surrendered to the spell of his vibrant masculinity. Then the image of Warren flashed into her mind and she froze like a statue in his arms. Suddenly she was conscious only of the agonised need to escape.
‘No!’ she cried through clenched teeth. ‘Let me go, damn you! I’ve got work to do. It’s nearly eleven o’clock.’
He released her and stepped back a pace but his eyes continued to hold her ensnared, as pitiless as search lights trained on a quivering animal.
‘All right,’ he agreed in a tone that was soft with menace. ‘You do have work to do, so we won’t discuss it now.’
Beth fled back to the ballroom in a state of turmoil. Yet fortunately she had always had the gift of being able to lose herself in her work and she was reasonably sure that nobody noticed her dismay. She continued working steadily until seven p.m. when the second shift of dressmakers came on duty. By then she was exhausted and ready to join the others in the main dining-room for an excellent dinner served by Benson. To her relief Daniel did not appear at the meal. And when it was over she went back to her room, took a long, luxurious spa bath and fell into bed. The next day followed the same pattern of frantic activity until seven minutes after four o’clock in the afternoon, when Wendy let out a riotous shriek.
‘Whoop, whoop, woo! We’ve finished, girls!
That is absolutely, positively the last stitch.’
Uproar broke out and the stamping and cheering and clapping brought Benson and Daniel running from the other end of the house. Beth flinched when she saw Daniel enter the room. But the lurking smile in his eyes and around the corners of his lips gave no hint that there had been any quarrel with her.
‘Does this mean what I hope it does?’ he queried.
‘Yes, sir!’ cried Wendy. ‘Signed, sealed and delivered, one autumn collection of clothing, finished and ready to go.’
Daniel marched down the centre of the ballroom like a triumphant general, shook Wendy’s hand, kissed her on both cheeks and then turned to Beth. Smiling sardonically, he kissed her on both cheeks too, then turned away.
‘Well done, everyone!’ he said. ‘Benson, I think this calls for champagne.’
Amid the pop of corks, the bubbling of golden yellow liquid and the laughter and exhausted groans of the workers, Beth found herself feeling suddenly as shy and awkward as a teenager. She could not be unaware of the way Daniel’s eyes followed her around the room. And when he came across to her with a smoking green bottle and a couple of long-stemmed crystal glasses clutched in his other hand, she dropped her eyes and felt herself flush. Setting down the glasses on a handy sewing-table, he poured them both a generous measure of the fizzy gold liquid.
‘Well, here’s to my beautiful bride of Santa Barbara,’ he said in the deep, vibrant voice that made her skin prickle.
She took a hasty sip of the champagne and swallowed hard, gasping as the bubbles seemed to explode inside her head. A light, airy dizziness swam through her veins.
‘I owe it all to you,’ she admitted reluctantly. ‘I would never in a million years have thought of doing this.’
‘It’s nice to know I’m appreciated.’
Was she mistaken or did she detect a hint of sarcasm in that? But before she had time to decide, Daniel continued on.
‘Well, there’s no point standing around here wasting time. Now that the clothes are finished, I don’t want to leave anything else to chance. So as soon as you’ve had your champagne, get changed and we’ll leave for Los Angeles immediately. Wendy and the girls can pack up the collection for you in tissue paper.’
Beth stared at him, feeling slightly stunned. ‘You want to go to Los Angeles tonight?’ she echoed.
‘That’s right. The show is tomorrow and we can’t take any chances of being late. The traffic on the freeways in the morning can be something fierce.’
‘But where can I stay?’ she demanded. ‘I still don’t have any money. My handbag went down with the motor launch and I haven’t had time to go near a bank. I’ll have to—’
But Daniel cut her off with an exasperated gesture. ‘You’ll stay with me. I have an apartment in Los Angeles.’
Beth was too stunned to protest, with the result that half an hour later she found herself in the Jaguar with Daniel, heading south along the coast road. The sun was already low in the sky and the air was filled with an incredible haze of colour, wild rose, gold and pale lavender. Far out to sea the stark, black shapes of the oil-rigs loomed like science fiction monsters appearing from the deep, while ahead of them the dark, oncoming crags of the coastline plummeted sharply into the sea. Beth was filled with a confused mixture of emotions. Exhaustion, resentment, apprehension and an incredulous, radiant happiness that bubbled through her as if the champagne were still at work.
‘Did you know that this road follows the track of the old Spanish explorers?’ asked Daniel. ‘”El Camino Real”, they used to call it. The Royal Road.’
‘Really?’ echoed Beth. ‘How fascinating! What were they doing here?’
Daniel’s smile held a hint of bitterness. ‘The same as the rest of us who flocked to California,’ he replied. ‘Looking for adventure, or gold, or both. Every time I drive this way I think of them riding along on their horses with their wide sombreros on their heads and their silver spurs jingling. And this whole wonderful country like an untamed paradise opening up in front of them.’
Beth sighed appreciatively.
‘Yes, I suppose they were pretty romantic figures,’ she agreed.
‘Well, I wouldn’t glamorise them too much,’ warned Daniel. ‘They may have been out there pursuing their dreams, but dreams aren’t always noble. Some of them were probably men with genuine vision who wanted to leave the place better than they found it, but others just wanted to exploit the land and the people and to hell with the consequences.’
I wonder which group you would have come into, thought Beth silently. A strange, wistful thrill ran through her body at the picture that conjured up. She imagined Daniel dressed in a white ruffled shirt, black trousers, sombrero and ornate riding boots, mounted on a black stallion and riding along this magnificent road that dipped and swooped over every headland. He would make a very commanding figure on horseback, she thought, although he was far taller than any Spanish explorer was likely to have been. But there was something about the visionary gleam in his dark eyes, the assertive thrust of his chin that made her feel that he would have endured any hardship to the bitter end in order to conquer the country he had staked out for himself. And what would he have done then? she wondered. Would he have fallen in love and built a hacienda for the woman of his choice? Disturbed at the trend her thoughts were taking, she wound down the window and inhaled a deep breath of the fresh, salt air. By now it was taking on the chill of evening and it was as cold and crisp as a draught of white wine laced with a subtle bouquet of flowers.
‘Well, I suppose a lot of people have travelled along this road pursuing their dreams,’ she said pensively.
‘And you’re one of them,’ replied Daniel. ‘You’ve worked like a demon getting this collection together and by tomorrow night you and I are going to be celebrating.’
Something about that phrase ‘you and I’ pierced Beth to the heart. It suggested something far more intimate than the turbulent and rather odd business relationship that she and Daniel had formed in the last few days. And the brooding sideways glance that he flashed her only reinforced her misgivings. She felt the same terror and elation that she might have experienced standing on the edge of a high cliff and wondering whether she was about to fall or soar. But that question was more than she wanted to deal with at the moment, so she simply flashed him a small, tight smile.
‘I’m rather tired,’ she said in a subdued voice. ‘I think I might take a rest, if you don’t mind?’
His mouth tightened but he did not argue with her.
‘Sure, go ahead,’ he agreed. ‘I want you looking your best at the parade tomorrow.’
Closing her eyes, Beth hunched back into the luxurious leather seat. But, in spite of her exhaustion she found it difficult to unwind enough to go to sleep. With an effort she forced herself to breathe in a deep, regular rhythm that would discourage Daniel from conversation. But she found herself running over and over the same thoughts like a jogger on a treadmill. The quarrel with Warren, the way Daniel had kissed her in the conservatory, their puzzling, tempestuous business relationship, the parade tomorrow. And, try as she might, she could not simply let go and drift. A faint click reached her ears, the sounds of buttons being pressed and then Daniel’s hoarse, velvety voice.
‘Try this,’ he suggested in amusement. ‘It might stop you worrying and let you doze off.’
The soothing notes of a Chopin Polonaise leapt into the air as pure and sweet as crystal. Beneath the music Beth heard the whizz of a passing car, the hiss of their own tyres on the road and felt her tense muscles slowly begin to relax. Her last thought as she drifted off was, How on earth did Daniel know I was still awake and worrying? Can he read my mind?
Her sleep was serene and refreshing and when she finally woke it was like coming up to the surface from a deep, cool pool of water. She turned her head and found Daniel’s hand resting on her shoulder. All around them was darkness except for the bright lights that sparkled like brilliantly coloured neckl
aces against the velvety blackness.
‘Where are we?’ she asked, yawning and blinking.
‘Los Angeles,’ replied Daniel. ‘Welcome to the city of dreams.’
CHAPTER FOUR
THE muted hum of conversation vibrated up to meet Beth as she peered over the edge of the upstairs gallery in Cadogan Hall the following morning. Only ten more minutes till noon and still no sign of Warren in the audience below. Five designers’ collections had already been displayed and, at the very least, he should have come to view those. After all, wasn’t that part of his job? Part of what his parents paid him for? Instead he had chosen to stay away from the entire show, just to show his annoyance with Beth. Well, damn him! she thought. A sick feeling of misery, nerves and anger surged up inside her, but she paid no attention. Her feelings didn’t matter. What mattered was getting this show on the road and not disappointing the team who had helped her. She caught a glimpse of a dark glossy head, which could only be Daniel’s. A pang of some indefinable emotion shot through Beth’s body. She wasn’t even sure that she liked Daniel, but she certainly owed him a lot. And, however bitterly they might have quarrelled, he was here when she needed him most. But where on earth was Warren?
A husky voice broke in on her reverie.
‘Beth? You want to come check that we’re all dressed right?’
It was Laura Mae Harper, a black model from Georgia with the regal dignity of an African queen. As they made their way back to the dressing-rooms, she squeezed Beth’s arm comfortingly.
‘Hey, don’t look so gloomy, honey! Your designs are great. They’re gonna be a smash hit!’
‘Do you really think so?’ asked Beth miserably.
‘Just watch it happen!’ urged Laura Mae.
But it wasn’t until the show was nearly over that Beth was finally convinced. Peeping out from the wings behind the catwalk, she saw Laura Mae swirling around in the wedding-dress against a halo of bright, natural light. And suddenly the catchy music from the loudspeakers was drowned by a growing thunder of applause. Holding her breath, Beth tiptoed away until she was safely inside a deserted dressing-room. Then she jumped into the air and let out a stifled whoop of excitement. She was so thrilled that she wanted to share this moment with everyone, even Warren. But it wasn’t Warren who came backstage to congratulate her ten minutes later. It was Daniel.
The Bride of Santa Barbara Page 5