Beth gave an impatient sigh.
‘What difference does that make?’ she demanded. ‘What right do you have to play God and decide what’s good for other people? Don’t they have a right to make their own choices without undue pressure from you? Make their own mistakes, if necessary?’
He rose from the table and strode abruptly across the room with his hands dug deep in his pockets and a scowl on his face.
‘Are we talking about you?’ he asked, turning suddenly to face her. ‘Is that what this is about? Are you regretting the fact that you agreed to work for me? Do you feel that I railroaded you into it?’
Beth let out a long sigh and toyed with the remains of a glass of white wine.
‘No-o, I don’t regret it exactly,’ she admitted, draining the last dregs of the potent, slightly spritzing liquid. ‘How could I? What’s happening to me is so exciting and fulfilling. But I do worry sometimes about the way you talked me into it. You’re so fluent with words that you just roll right over people.’
‘I see,’ retorted Daniel curtly.
He came striding back across the marble floor and crouched down suddenly beside her with one arm on her chair. He was so close that she could feel the warmth radiating out from his body, see the way his blue jeans stretched tautly over his muscular thighs, hear the rasp of his breathing. His dark eyes fixed her with glittering intensity.
‘You’re wrong about me,’ he said in a tone of suppressed anger. ‘I can see why you’ve got the idea that you have, but you’re wrong. I was a Hollywood director for ten years and in that business you learn to hustle and flatter and second-guess people. But I’m not the kind of black-hearted villain you seem to think, Beth. I’d try to tell you what I really am and what I really want, but you’d probably say I was railroading you. So there’s only one thing I can think of doing.’
Beth stared at him in bewilderment.
‘What do you mean?’ she demanded.
Daniel rose to his feet and stood gripping the back of one of the chairs as threateningly as if it were a deadly weapon.
‘What I’m really good at, Beth, is getting an idea and making it real. A project, a movie, whatever. Translating dreams into life.’
Beth stared at him in perplexity.
Daniel strode about the room, clenching and unclenching his fists.
‘Beth, did you ever see any of my movies?’
She shook her head, intrigued now.
‘No.’
‘Then will you watch one of them? That will give you a better idea of what kind of person I am than another two hours of talking.’
‘All right,’ agreed Beth slowly. ‘I’d like to do that.’
She had expected to find the film entertaining, but what she was not prepared for was to be moved as profoundly as if some great crisis in her own life had overtaken her. Somehow she had been expecting a video, but Daniel pulled down a full-sized screen on one wall of the sitting-room and opened a teak cabinet to reveal a movie projector. When the lights went down and haunting guitar music flooded the room, Beth not only felt as if she had been transported into a cinema, she felt as if she had been transported back in time. The film was set in the eighteenth century and it was called Alvaro’s Choice. It was the story of a young Spaniard studying for the priesthood in one of the Californian missions and the Chumash Indian girl whom he fell in love with. Beth found it powerful, moving and profoundly disturbing.
If Daniel’s aim was to convince her that he wasn’t the unfeeling tycoon that she believed, the film was certainly successful. But it also had an unexpected side-effect. In the end what disturbed her most profoundly was not just the powerful directing and photography but the electrifying performance of Sunny Martino, who played the part of the Indian girl. Probably by chance the young Spanish actor who played the part of the priest bore a slight physical resemblance to Daniel himself, and in the scene where the pair became lovers, Beth found herself so engrossed that she was sitting forward on her seat.
Try as she might, she could not dismiss the uncanny feeling that what she was watching was not a movie but real life unfolding before her eyes. Sunny captured the shyness, the humour and the innocence of the young Indian girl so vividly that Beth found it almost unbearable to watch, particularly when she moved into the arms of the hero. She realised that she had been cherishing a comforting notion that Sunny Martino was probably a hopeless actress who relied solely on her physical charms. Reluctantly Beth now had to admit that she was wrong. But just how wrong she did not realise until the scene where Sunny found the Indian village reduced to ashes, her two children kidnapped and the body of the man whom she believed to be Alvaro charred beyond recognition. Her grief and frenzy was so overpowering that Beth felt the hairs rising on the back of her neck and her own throat so choked and tight she could scarcely breathe. And in the final scene, when the Indian girl came back to the beach where they had first met and recognised Alvaro at the far end of the strand, still alive and searching for her, Beth found tears running openly down her face. As the two figures ran on a collision course and the camera panned away from them and up, up over the hills and out on to the ocean and music soared and swirled around them and the credits rolled on the screen, she rubbed her face surreptitiously on her sleeve. By the time Daniel snapped on the light, she had recovered enough to be blowing her nose vigorously and blinking her suspiciously red eyes.
‘Well?’ said Daniel, turning off the projector.
Beth hesitated, wondering how to put into words the experience she had just had.
‘It was magnificent,’ she replied unsteadily. ‘The love story alone was really compelling and yet there was so much more to it than that. The way they both questioned all the rules they had been brought up with. And the way they were prepared to sacrifice anything to be with each other and to do what they felt they must do. I’ve never been so moved in my life by a film.’
Daniel smiled bleakly.
‘Well, at least you understood what it was about,’ he said. ‘Which was more than some of the critics did. What did you think of Sunny?’
All Beth’s senses seemed to be sharpened by her recent contact with that haunting, lyrical movie. She could not miss the note of pride and admiration and...love in Daniel’s voice. An unaccountable anger surged up inside her, but she had to be honest.
‘Sunny was superb,’ she admitted and felt a tight ache in her throat as if the words didn’t want to come out. ‘However did you get such a performance out of her?’
Daniel’s angular, rather harsh features kindled.
‘Sunny’s a very special person,’ he replied. ‘She gave me her whole heart and soul for that movie.’
In that moment Beth felt a pain as intense as if a knife had stabbed into her. Suddenly she could no longer doubt that Daniel was in love with Sunny Martino. Equally she could not doubt that she herself was far more dismayed by that than she should be. The image flashed into her mind of the burnt-out Indian village with its charred tent poles thrusting up against the wintry sky. An obscure feeling of misery settled on her.
‘I think I’ll go to bed now, if you’ll excuse me,’ she said stiffly. ‘I’m rather tired.’
A momentary disappointment flashed in Daniel’s eyes and then vanished.
‘Just as you like,’ he replied with apparent indifference.
There was no further mention of Sunny the following day and Daniel announced that he wanted to take Beth to Los Angeles. He was clearly in business-tycoon mode. Brisk, energetic and full of plans.
‘I’ve already ordered a crew to put the barn into order at the farm at Buellton,’ he started off. ‘And pretty soon you’ll have to start hiring staff to make up the clothes. The other thing you’re going to need is a retail outlet in LA, and that’s what we’re checking out today. There’s a store for lease on Rodeo Drive that I want you to take a look at.’
Beth gaped.
‘Rodeo Drive?’ she echoed. ‘But isn’t that hideously expensive? It’s where the
movie stars shop, isn’t it?’
‘Exactly,’ agreed Daniel. ‘And they’re the customers you want. You’re making a topline product, so you need a topline store to sell it.’
They arrived in Rodeo Drive just in time for lunch. There was a small pedestrian mall leading off to one side of the famous thoroughfare and it was here that the shop was situated which Daniel wanted her to inspect. But first he insisted that they eat at an outdoor café with huge shady white umbrellas and masses of white geraniums in terracotta tubs. After a feast of grilled lobster, salad, a cheese platter and fresh fruit, they went to look at the shop. It was in a three-storey building with an entranceway flanked by two tall graceful Ionian columns and a large plate-glass display area on the bottom floor. A tall black wrought-iron lampstand lent distinction to the pavement outside and there was the inevitable cluster of large terracotta pots containing red begonias and dwarf palm trees. The greenery was repeated on the balcony of the first floor with colourful red geraniums spilling downwards towards the street and white potato vines climbing the columns of the archway. Beth felt intimidated even looking at the place.
She felt even more intimidated when Daniel produced a set of keys from his pocket, unlocked the front door and led her inside. The building bore the unmistakable signs of wealth, from its luxurious velvety crimson carpet to the chandeliers overhead, the Regency-striped wallpaper and the large mahogany counter in one corner of the shop. A tour of the building showed that it had everything necessary for an upmarket fashion boutique. A delivery entrance at the rear, spacious changing cubicles, an office area, a kitchen and bathroom, racks of hanging space and a small staff tearoom. But Beth could not fight down her sense of misgiving, a feeling that she did not belong here, that she was an impostor. Her mind flashed back to the converted tool shed at the back of her parents’ home where she had cut out her first dresses on a cement floor with mosquitoes whining around her legs. I don’t belong here, she thought anxiously.
‘What’s wrong?’ asked Daniel. He hoisted himself up lightly on to the mahogany counter and stared at her with a frown. ‘You don’t like the place. Why not?’
She gave a small, embarrassed shrug.
‘I do like it,’ she contradicted. ‘But it’s much too grand for me. Anyway I could never afford the rent.’
‘Of course you can,’ insisted Daniel contemptuously. ‘I’ll help you.’
Beth gave a long shuddering sigh.
‘That’s the problem,’ she muttered.
‘Come here,’ growled Daniel, fixing her with his brooding dark eyes.
She hesitated, not wanting to obey him. And yet something about that unwinking stare mesmerised her so that she moved slowly towards him.
‘Closer,’ he said throatily.
She took a step closer and suddenly he closed his muscular thighs, trapping her between them. She started convulsively and made as if to back away, but he caught her by the shoulders.
‘Don’t be a fool,’ he said roughly. ‘You know I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to know the truth. What is it that’s holding you back? Is it fear of failure or fear of what I’m going to ask of you?’
‘Both,’ she said.
His right hand came up and his fingers traced a warm, sensual line down the side of her cheek.
‘You never fail until you give up trying,’ he said. ‘And I don’t intend to ask anything of you except a business partnership. Yet.’
She shuddered. ‘And later?’ she asked.
‘Later we’ll see,’ he said enigmatically. ‘But don’t let fear hold you back from spreading your wings, Beth. You have a lot of talent and you’ve got a duty to use it.’
With an unsteady gasp she broke away from him and paced across the room and then turning back she looked at him with a tormented expression.
‘Why are you putting so much money and time into me?’ she demanded. ‘I know you said you’re an entrepreneur, but do you do this for everyone whose business you back?’
‘No, only the pretty ones,’ said Daniel in a mocking voice.
Beth flinched.
‘Oh, for heaven’s sake!’ Daniel burst out. ‘It was a joke, Beth. OK, you can see perfectly well that I’m interested in you for more than just your talent as a fashion designer. I won’t deny that. But I’ve told you before, my help with your business affairs is not conditional on your jumping into bed with me. Is that clear?’
His anger made her wince and it did little to soothe her fears. All right, maybe it was reassuring to know that Daniel wasn’t going to demand any sexual favours in return for all his generosity, but he hadn’t denied that he wanted her, either.
‘Yes, it’s clear,’ she muttered. The words were agonisingly difficult to frame. ‘But I still don’t understand what you want from me.’
He slid off the counter with all the grace of a jungle cat and prowled across the room towards her. Then, catching her in his arms, he thrust his face down towards hers so close that she could feel his breath fanning her cheek and see the telltale beating of a pulse at his temple.
‘When the time comes, sweetheart,’ he said hoarsely, ‘I’ll leave you in no doubt at all about what I want. Until then, all I want to know is this: do you have the courage to gamble on your own talent or not?’
Beth shivered, conscious only of the tumultuously beating rhythm of her heart and the total insanity of letting this man sweep her away any further. She opened her mouth to protest, to refuse, to insist on struggling back to safety while it was still possible, but somehow her lips refused to frame the words.
‘Y-yes,’ she stammered, shocking herself deeply. ‘Yes, I do!’
For the next couple of weeks Daniel and Beth were frantically busy in Los Angeles. There was the shop in Rodeo Drive to be decorated and equipped, sales staff to hire, fabric suppliers and agents to contact, and office equipment to be bought. In addition Daniel insisted that Beth spend five days at an intensive course on computers and accounting and he took her on a tour of all the leading fashion boutiques.
Their first weekend was spent working, but to Beth’s surprise on the second one Daniel announced that they both deserved a holiday. Consequently they spent the Saturday at Universal Studios being attacked by a deadly twenty-foot shark and enduring all the thrills and horrors of a runaway train, a laser battle with robots, an Alpine avalanche, an encounter with King Kong and a dramatic earthquake. Afterwards they had dinner in a shoji-screened room at the Yamata restaurant. Savouring the delights of shrimp tempura and green tea ice-cream, Beth was surprised to find herself relaxing in simple, uncomplicated enjoyment. Unconsciously she had begun to feel that her contact with Daniel had to consist of violent confrontations or searingly passionate encounters. It was surprising to find that he could also be a very good companion. Surprising and rather disturbing, because she found herself wishing that this companionship would go on.
The day after Beth finished her computer course, Daniel announced abruptly that they were returning to the horse farm in the Santa Ynez Valley.
‘I’ve had the workmen in at your barn,’ he said. ‘So I want to see how that’s coming along. Besides, I’m expecting delivery of a young thoroughbred filly and you’re looking kind of tired. A break in the country would do you good.’
As they drove north from Los Angeles, Beth realised that she was tired. The three weeks since she had left Australia had vanished at a frantic pace and she could scarcely believe that so much had happened in such a short time. Her fashion collection had been lost and replaced, her business had taken off like a rocket and she had broken off her engagement to Warren. And all thanks to the ruthless and dynamic Daniel Pryor, a man who made her feel about as safe as if she were walking around the edge of a dormant volcano. Her face shadowed as she thought of how easily she had come to terms with the break-up with Warren. She had always believed that she loved him, so it was humiliating to feel that she could shrug him off so easily.
‘What’s wrong?’ asked Daniel.
‘I—I was thinking of Warren,’ she blurted out.
He scowled ferociously.
‘Well, don’t,’ he advised.
There was an uneasy silence between them for perhaps ten minutes until Daniel suddenly gestured to a beach on the left side of the road.
‘That’s the beach where we filmed part of Alvaro’s Choice, down there,’ he said.
Beth felt a sudden pang of jealousy at the image of Sunny Martino and the memory of Daniel’s words. ‘She gave me her whole heart and soul for that movie.’ Gritting her teeth, she picked up a fashion magazine that was lying in her lap.
‘That’s nice,’ she said coolly, opening it and turning the pages.
Daniel’s mouth hardened, but he said nothing.
It was just after eleven o’clock when they reached the farm and the sun was blazing down out of a cloudless blue sky. Only a couple of weeks had elapsed since their previous visit, so Beth didn’t expect much progress on the old barn which was to be her workplace. Consequently she was stunned when Daniel led her down to the building and flung open the main door.
‘What do you think?’ he asked.
She stepped inside and let out a low gasp. The place was transformed. In place of the sagging loose boxes, dirt floor and swags of cobwebs was a light, airy workroom with cutting benches, sewing machines, shelves for fabric storage and every imaginable item of equipment. Daniel led her through to the old tack-room and displayed an office painted in eggshell-blue with the old cedar fireplace meticulously restored and a discreet range of office furniture handcrafted in matching cedar. There was even a vase of flowers on Beth’s desk next to the computer. Cornflowers. Beth walked over and touched them with disbelief written all over her face.
‘Blue. To match your eyes,’ said Daniel in a deadpan voice. ‘I hope I’ve done it all the way you wanted.’
A lump rose in her throat and she stared at him with a feeling of misgiving. How could you cope with a man who anticipated your secret fantasies even before you had them yourself? A man who made dreams into reality with such relentless energy?
The Bride of Santa Barbara Page 11