by Janet Dailey
Racing towards the small closet in the room, Dani was halted by the sight of a slender girl in a white gown hurrying towards her. It took a full second before she realized it was a mirror reflecting her own image.
Short, short hair was a richly glowing brown in the overhead light. The cinnamon shade of her hazel eyes was enhanced by her thick but not long lashes. Ignoring the boyish style of her hair, Dani noticed for the first time the clean lines of her face, oval with nicely prominent cheekbones, a small and straight nose above a well-shaped mouth and naturally arched eyebrows. Her neck was long and graceful, like a racehorse's. The skin of her arms and face was a light golden colour, showing no inclination to freckle.
But her legs were pale white beneath the gown, never having been exposed to the sun the way her face and arms were. They were slender, yet well muscled. In fact, she thought, as she hitched the hospital gown up near her thighs, her legs looked quite similar to those of the scantily clad girls on the calendars at the stables. This was the first time she had attempted to assess her figure in comparison to other feminine forms, and she realized she was quite shapely with her gently rounded hips and nipped-in waist.
'You have very beautiful legs. How old are you?'
At the sound of the curious masculine voice, Dani let go of the gown, letting the hem fall down around her knees as she spun to face the man leaning against the door jamb.
'Who are you? What do you want?' Her cheeks flamed as she encountered the unabashed look of dark, dark brown eyes.
'Marshall Thompsen,' the stranger replied smoothly. A brow as thick and as black as his hair arched above one eye as his gaze travelled lazily over her. 'Barrett said you were a child.'
Dani had concealed her hands behind her back to hide the money she still clutched, unaware that the action tightened the thin cotton gown across her front, outlining the upward thrust of her breasts.
'I am not a child!' she retorted firmly.
'I can see that,' he murmured with a smile that was obviously meant to charm.
'What are you doing here?' She began to edge warily towards the bed. 'If Barrett King sent you, then you can just turn around and leave.'
'Hardly, my love. The redoubtable Mr. King and I cannot be referred to as friends by any stretch of the imagination. Acquaintances, enemies even, but never friends.' The man straightened and stepped further into the room. 'I was curious to see the little female David who was able to subject Barrett to such vitriolic abuse without suffering his retribution.'
'Are you one of those reporters?' Dani accused, her fingers reaching for the telephone at her bedside.
Her continued resistance to his practiced charm didn't seem to disconcert him a bit. 'You do crush a man's ego! I'm not a reporter, although I do possess a slim claim to fame as a syndicated columnist, a running chronicle of the lives—and loves—of the socially elite.'
'That still isn't an answer as to what you're doing here,' Dani persisted.
'I thought I'd already explained.' A gold cigarette case materialized in the hand that had been in the pocket of his impeccably tailored blazer. 'Barrett King is always good material, and that was quite a scene the two of you must have had this morning.'
'Were you there?' she demanded.
'I only know what I read in the newspapers.' A cigarette was now lit and the smoke curling near his black hair. From under his arm, he withdrew a copy of a newspaper and handed it to her. 'Have you seen it?'
'No.' Her head moved briefly in a negative gesture as she accepted the paper, sliding on to the bed and discreetly slipping the money beneath her pillow.
Her father had told her about the article, but Dani had imagined some small write-up, possibly with a picture tucked in some hidden corner of the paper. She hadn't expected the story would monopolise nearly one entire page. There were three photographs. The largest was of her impotent attempt to beat him with her fists. The second picture must have been taken after she collapsed because it showed her being carried in Barrett King's arms. But the last brought a tight knot of pain in her chest. There was The Rogue, a magnificent photo taken of him rearing and fighting off a groom who was trying to hold him. Dani remembered it had been taken some months before, during the saddling of his third race. He looked so invincible. It hurt unbearably to remind herself that The Rogue was dead.
A frown covered her face to fight back the scalding tears as she glanced at the handsome man identified as Marshall Thompsen. 'Why?' she asked huskily. 'Why all this? Nobody's even heard of The Rogue before.'
'It was a combination of things, I imagine,' he shrugged, the darkness of his eyes not hiding the sharpness of his gaze nor concealing the shrewdness behind his suave exterior. 'A lack of any other noteworthy news, the human interest angle of a possibly great horse being destroyed, and the name of Barrett King. I don't suppose there was any truth in your accusations?'
Dani's chin lifted defiantly, her eyes sparkling with anger and unshed tears. 'He wanted The Rogue. He tried to buy him, but we wouldn't sell. My father—' Her voice trailed off, unwilling to relate her father's assertion that they should have sold the Thoroughbred to Barrett King, that they had no right to own a horse like The Rogue.
'Yes, I saw your father slipping out of your room and down the back stairs. That was how I was able to guess which room was yours.' The man smoothly filled in the gap left by her uncompleted sentence, allowing her time to regain her control. 'No doubt he was trying to avoid the queue of reporters hovering about the entrance. He isn't taking The Rogue's death very well, is he?'
The quiet probing question struck a responsive chord in Dani and she was suddenly overcome with a need to confide the confusing turn of events that had taken place. Her words tumbled over each other as she quickly explained how severely depressed her father was, of his insistence that he was a failure, a loser, even his assertion that they should have sold The Rogue to Barrett King and why she glossed over the part about his lack of paternal guidance with her and omitted any mention of the money tucked under her pillow after all, she wasn't totally ignorant of the lengths some men would go to separate herself from that sum of money—and she ended her tale with the fact that Lew had pushed her out on her own while he left town that very night. Her only reaction from Marshall Thompsen was the brilliant gleam that glittered in his dark eyes.
'You never did say how old you were?' he commented, unnaturally interested in the burning tip of his cigarette.
'Nineteen. I'll be twenty, in November.'
'That's certainly old enough to leave the nest. What do you plan to do?'
'I thought,' Dani inhaled deeply, 'I thought I would go after my father. He shouldn't be alone at a time like this.'
'From a man's point of view, I think you're wrong. He's evidently convinced himself that he's a failure as a father as well as a man. For you to go chasing after him with your well-meaning pity would only enforce his opinion. There are times when a person, male or female, needs to be by themselves to work things out and not use anyone else as a crutch. This could be one of those times for your father.'
'So you think I should do as he asked?' she said thoughtfully, appreciating the logic of his reasoning. 'The only problem is,' she sighed, 'What am I going to do? Lew made me promise I wouldn't have anything to do with horses, and that's all I know.'
'Has anyone ever told you—Dani, isn't it?'
'Yes, short for Danielle,' she supplied.
'I like that name,' Marshall Thompsen murmured. 'It has class. Has anyone told you that you're photogenic?'
'What does that mean?' Again the wariness crept back in her voice.
'It means that you look attractive in photographs.' His long fingers made a deprecating gesture towards her bluntly short hair. 'Excluding that butchered hairstyle and those boys' clothes you wear, your face is very expressive in pictures. You could become a model, although there's an over-abundance of young women aspiring to such a position.'
'Are you offering to make me one?' Dani asked, looking sc
eptically at the handsome man now.
'Oh, I could under the right circumstances,' he answered without the slightest hesitation.
'And what kind of circumstances would that be? Stopping at your apartment around midnight to view some of your sketches?' she demanded sarcastically.
'Your mind is as swift and as sharp as your tongue,' he chuckled softly.
'I may not be sophisticated, but neither am I naïve, Mr. Thompsen.'
'Marshall,' he corrected. 'And I'll call you Danielle. An evening at my apartment was not the circumstances I had in mind, although I'm sure it would be enjoyable. No, I have an even better plan, one that Barrett King may not like, but I think you and I will.'
'What is it?'
He glanced at his watch, large, gold and expensive like everything else he wore. 'The nurse will be coming any moment and your room is strictly off limits. I won't have time to explain it now. You're to be released in the morning, aren't you?'
'Yes,' Dani nodded, puzzled by his conspiratorial air and more than a little curious about what he had in mind.
Again his hand reached into the pocket that contained the gold cigarette case, only this time it drew out a business card which he handed to her.
'Call me tomorrow after you've left the hospital and we'll get together to discuss it.' White teeth flashed when he smiled. 'At a public restaurant of your choosing,' he added with a wink as he started towards the door. 'It would be better if you didn't mention my visit to Barrett when you see him.'
'I won't be seeing him, so there's little likelihood that he'll find out,' Dani replied waspishly.
'Don't you know?' The dark brow arched again in a mocking movement. 'This is an exclusively private hospital and Mr. King is picking up the tab for your stay. You can be sure he'll be in to see you some time before you're released.'
With that bombshell of information Marshall Thompsen left the room. Dani spluttered silently, having no one to vent her rage on, then settled back against the bed as she planned what she would say to Barrett King when she saw him. The lump of money beneath her pillow reassured her that she wasn't a charity case and there would be considerable pleasure in informing Mr. King.
'Well, I see you've finally woken. How are you feeling?' A white-uniformed nurse walked briskly into the room, a smile fixed on her round face.
After her initial start of surprise, Dani recovered and answered calmly, 'I'm fine, thank you.'
Silently she endured the taking of her temperature, pulse and blood pressure which the nurse performed with businesslike efficiency, half listening to the remarks made about the stir Dani had caused with the press.
'You slept through lunch and dinner,' the nurse stated after she had entered the results on Dani's chart. 'Would you like some sandwiches and milk?'
Sandwiches and milk. Dani hid the wry smile that tugged at the corners of her mouth. If the nurse had offered milk and cookies, she couldn't have indicated more clearly that she believed herself to be speaking to a child. But the suggestion made her realize there was an empty gnawing in her stomach.
'Yes, I am hungry,' she admitted.
'I'll be right back with a tray,' the nurse smiled, and returned a few minutes later. But before the nurse left again, she showed Dani how to operate the buzzer at her bedside and added, 'If you have trouble getting to sleep, the doctor authorized us to administer a sleeping pill. I'll come back later to pick up your tray.'
With the nurse's departure, Dani unwrapped the first sandwich and began eating hungrily, spreading out the newspaper to read the article beneath her pictures. The first few paragraphs she skimmed over since they dealt with the factual happenings of the morning with a brief reference to The Rogue's previous winning record and the muscle injury he had sustained that had kept him out of the bigger races.
The sandwich became tasteless as she read Manny's account of this morning's workout and his statement that the track had been in excellent condition and The Rogue had shown no favouritism at all to his previous injury. His conclusion was a freak misstep on the Thoroughbred's part. Her throat tightened at the glowing words of praise from the jockey when he told of the supreme effort The Rogue had made to keep from falling and perhaps causing more injury to himself as well as Manny. Yet Dani knew that the very fact that The Rogue hadn't gone down had also contributed to the irreparable damage done to his ankle.
There was a synopsis of her father's career in racing, even his stint as a jockey before his weight had forced his retirement. Comments from the track people Dani knew referred to her as an emotional and sensitive young girl and blamed her highly spirited nature as the cause for her blow-up at Barrett King when she had learned of the eminent destruction of The Rogue.
Lew Williams had refused to make any comment on the reporter's questions, a fact duly noted in the article. But there were quotes from Barrett King, and Dani read them with a grim sort of eagerness.
In reply to the question what was the truth behind her accusations, Barrett had admitted, 'I attempted to buy the colt from Williams as a yearling because I thought it had potential. Lew said he would consider the offer although his daughter told me outright that The Rogue wasn't for sale. A few days later, her father told me the same thing. I held no ill-feelings because of his decision. In his place, I would have done the same thing. The girl was obviously very attached to the horse, as young people tend to be. I suppose I represented some kind of threat, which was why she lashed out at me today. She was overwrought—certainly in no condition to be held responsible for her actions.'
Barrett's comment as to his assessment of The Rogue's ability was: 'My horse, Easy Doesit, has faced some pretty stiff competition this year and come out on top most of the time. Today The Rogue crossed the finishing line six lengths ahead and still pulling away easily. He might have been the horse of the decade, as you newspapermen like to call them, but that's something we shall never know for certain.'
The article concluded with the bitter sentence that The Rogue had broken down during a workout and was destroyed without ever reaching his prime.
Dani gulped down her milk, trying to swallow the lump in her throat at the same time. She shifted her gaze to the photographs again, studying them with more than passing interest this time as she tried to gauge Barrett King's reaction by his expression.
In the first picture, the strong line of his jaw was emphasized as if clenched. There was an arrogant tilt of his head and the look in his eyes was indecipherable, but his arms were at his side as he allowed himself to be subjected to the pathetic punishment of her fists.
In the second, he was carrying her in his arms, effortlessly striding towards the camera. This time there was no mistaking the grim expression on his face—whether from concern or anger, Dani had no way of telling. In that picture she did look young and immature, unconscious in his arms, her head resting against his chest.
The memory of the warmth and the strength she had felt in those arms only moments before she had lost consciousness came rushing back, an embrace that had seemed to absorb some of her anguish. There had been so much security and comfort in that low voice that had urged her to cry.
Comfort? She nearly snorted the word aloud. What a strange word to associate with an overbearing person like Barrett King. Never would she be able to conceive a time when she could be comfortable in his arms.
Angrily she thrust the newspaper away from her. She refused to think about him any more.
Chapter Three
AFTER breakfast the next morning, Dani scrambled into her boots, faded jeans, and the shapeless blouse that transformed her slender, feminine figure into one of boyish slimness. At the sound of firm footsteps in the hallway outside her door, a sixth sense warned her that Marshall Thompsen's prophecy that she would see Barrett King before she left the hospital was about to come true. When his voice greeted her from the doorway, her face didn't register any surprise.
'Good morning,' she replied crisply, casting a defiant glance at him before reaching in
her back pocket for the comb she always kept there. The hairs along the back of her neck were tingling, sending a thousand tiny vibrations through her body.
'How are you feeling this morning?'
Dani refused to let the warmth in his voice charm her as it did so many others. She saw through him.
'I'm quite recovered,' she answered.
To her relief, a nurse walked into the room. Young and attractive, she made a quick and effusive apology to Barrett for interrupting them. When she glanced at Dani, it was almost an afterthought.
'There were a few details about you, Miss Williams, that we weren't able to obtain when you were admitted yesterday,' the nurse explained. 'We do need them for our records in the event you have the misfortune to come here again.'
The last was obviously meant as a small joke since the nurse laughed after she said it. But Dani didn't smile as she glanced at Barrett, wishing he would leave and knowing he wouldn't.
'What is it you need to know?' she asked instead, her mouth tightening as she watched Barrett walk to the window of her room.
The data the nurse required consisted of details of her childhood diseases, permanent residence, and her date of birth. As the information was all noted on the nurse's pad, Dani noticed the way the young woman's gaze continued to stray to Barrett. Only once did she herself look to see if he was watching them, but he was still staring out of the window, the sunlight streaming in to accent the coppery shade of his thick hair. It irritated her the way his presence could dominate a room.
The nurse smiled. 'That's everything. The doctor will be here within the hour to release you formally.'
Dani wasn't deceived. She knew the smile was really meant for Barrett, and she pitied the nurse for being taken in by the striking looks and not seeing the ruthlessness that lay behind those Catlike green eyes.
'Why did you lie, Dani?' Barrett demanded as he turned a censorious gaze on her.