by Janet Dailey
There was a sparkle of anger in her eyes. 'I didn't lie! You wanted The Rogue for yourself!'
'I'm not talking about that.' The sharpness was out of his tone, but the underlying hardness was still there. 'I'm referring to just now. I know it must seem an incredibly long time before you're an adult, but lying about your age won't help you reach it any faster.'
'I wasn't lying. I'm nineteen and I shall be twenty in November! I'm sorry I can't produce a birth certificate on the spur of the moment to prove it,' she retorted sarcastically.
There was something very insolent about the way his level gaze swept her from head to toe. It was all she could do not to reach out for the pitcher of water and throw it at him.
'You don't look a day over fifteen,' he murmured.
'Spare me the "sweet sixteen and never been kissed" remarks,' she snapped. 'I am not sixteen and I assure you I have been kissed.'
'Not very thoroughly.' There were wicked devils of laughter dancing in his eyes.
Her hands moved to a defiant stance on her hips, reminding her at the same moment that the bulge in her pocket was made by the money her father had given her and Marshall Thompsen's statement that Barrett intended to pay for her hospital stay. Before she could mention it, and her intention to take care of her own expenses, he spoke again.
'Have you seen your father?'
'Why?' deliberately and guardedly answering his question with one of her own.
'I stopped at the track to talk to him this morning and discovered he was gone. It seems he left last night. Do you know anything about it?' His head was tilted inquiringly to one side.
'Yes,' Dani answered simply.
A muscle jumped along his jawline and Dani knew her lack of further explanation angered him. With reluctant admiration, she noticed the control that kept his temper in check.
'Will he be here this morning when you're released?' he asked with marked patience.
'No.'
'Instead of playing twenty questions, why don't you explain to me what the situation is?' His penetrating gaze was formidable with its demand and Dani had difficulty meeting it.
'Is that what we were playing?' she asked with mock innocence. I'm never quite sure what your game is.' She knew the snide comment hadn't gone unnoticed as she hurried on. 'The situation is simply: my father left town last night. He left some money with me to take care of the hospital bill.' She extracted two large bills from the roll in her pocket and waved them in the air for his confirmation.
'That's been taken care of already.' Barrett spoke with ominous quietness.
'We Williams' don't need your charity—or is it really a twinge of guilty conscience?' she chided, letting the sarcasm flow freely.
He took two quick strides forward, his tallness suddenly looming over her. 'It was a gesture of sympathy on my part. I feel no guilt over the loss of your horse. As you very well know, I had no part in it.'
Dani had the honesty to redden at his subtle reference to her accusation the day before. 'No, I know you didn't,' she admitted, although through gritted teeth, hating to have him right about anything. 'I suppose I should apologise for the things I said.'
As swiftly as it had come, his anger vanished. Don't apologise if you don't mean it.' Laughter rang in his voice, mocking her reluctant admission.
'Well, I will,' Dani asserted, her chin lifting rebelliously. I'm sure there are enough things that can be said about you that are true without resorting to lying.'
'I accept your backhanded apology,' Barrett smiled.
His head moved in a mocking nod and she was forcibly reminded of his magnetism. There was no mistaking the virility behind the teak-carved exterior. Barrett King was a potent combination of looks, wealth, and charm. Dani turned away, silently grateful that she was immune to such things. She swallowed back the slight attack of breathlessness that had caught hold of her throat at his sweeping glance.
'Are you planning to rejoin your father immediately?' he asked quietly.
'Why?' Her question was wary, as were all her reactions to him.
'I think it would be best if you waited a couple of days before attempting to travel.' Indifference lined his voice.
'There's nothing wrong with me. I only fainted,' she reminded him.
She had no intention of telling Barrett that she would not be joining her father, nor was she going to mention Marshall Thompsen, not because of his suggestion, but because it was none of Barrett's business. However; she was wise enough to realize that as long as Barrett remained the inquisitor the chance that she might let her plans slip was increased.
'Why are you here?' she demanded with a suddenness that was supposed to catch him off guard.
'To offer my help,' he answered without any hesitation. The cool, level gaze was difficult to meet.
'What would I need your help for?' Her tone was deliberately derisive, trying to counteract the sensation that he was winning their imaginary battle.
'For starters, there are a couple of reporters waiting downstairs—'
'And you're afraid I'll make more inflammatory remarks about you, I suppose,' Dani jeered.
'You can say anything you like to them,' Barrett said quietly but with a grimness that suggested underlying temper. 'I thought since your father had seen fit to run away from them that perhaps you weren't very anxious to see them yourself.'
'My father ran away from himself, not the reporters,' she corrected, and immediately wished she could bite off her tongue at the sharply questioning look he gave her. 'And I'm very capable of dealing with a few nosey men without any assistance from you, so you can leave any time you want. The sooner the better as far as I'm concerned,' arrogantly arching a brow in his direction.
'Very well,' was his dipped reply as the broad back was turned towards her and he started for the open door.
'And, Mr. King—' Her eyes glittered with defiant triumph as the auburn head turned in answer to his name, 'I shall be paying for my stay here. Whatever arrangements you've made to the contrary can be cancelled.'
There was a grim line to his mouth and jaw as he surveyed her with unnerving thoroughness. Her heartbeat quickened.
'Have you ever seen an unruly horse saddled and bridled, Miss Williams?' Barrett continued, with the certainty that Dani had seen it many times. 'His tongue is held to keep him in line. I wonder how it would work with a headstrong brat like you?'
While she gasped in outraged anger, Barrett King walked calmly from the room. Seething with impotent fury, she stalked about the room, muttering savage imprecations and kicking out at the chair and bed, suffering the consequences of a stubbed toe. When the doctor arrived to release her formally, it was he who suffered the rough edge of her tongue.
At the cashier's counter on the first floor, Dani drew herself up to her full height of five foot four inches and demanded her bill, fully prepared to argue her right to pay it. Surprisingly, the elderly woman produced it without comment, taking most of the wind from Dani's stormy sails. With the receipt tucked in her pocket with the rest of the money her father had given her, Dani entered the lobby of the hospital.
All hope that she could slip past the reporters unnoticed fled when she saw the emptiness of the room. That, combined with her apparel of faded blue jeans, boots, and the disreputable blouse, brought everyone's attention to her immediately. Squaring her shoulders, Dani attempted to brazen her way across the tiled floor, but three men and a photographer surrounded her, bombarding her with questions and denying her a clear path to the door.
'Could you tell us where your father is, Miss Williams?'
'What is your reaction to Mr. King's comment that the true worth of The Rogue will never be known? Do you agree with him?'
'What are your plans now, Miss Williams?'
'Would you look this way, miss?'
Her hand shielded her face from the flashing of another bulb. 'Please let me through.' She was forced to raise her voice to make herself heard over their barrage of questions. 'Let me by!'
But her requests were ignored and her hazel gaze searched wildly for some other means of escape, but the men had her blocked at every turn. Beyond the shoulder of one man Dani saw the mocking smile of Barrett King as he leaned against a far wall the deeply grooved corners of his mouth showed his obvious amusement at her predicament. For a split second, her eyes begged for his help before she turned determinedly away.
'Let me through,' she repeated in a desperate tone as she tried to push her way around one of the men, who merely took a step backward without providing any opening at all.
In the next second, Dani felt a firm hand grip her elbow and she turned towards it almost in relief.
'Come on, fellers, give the girl a break,' Barrett's amused yet authoritative voice was saying. 'She may have been released from the hospital, but no girl can fend off a pack of wolves, especially when they attack en masse!'
'We only want to ask her a few questions, Barrett,' one of the reporters said in a wheedling tone.
'Do you want to answer them?'
From the direction of his voice, Dani knew Barrett had bent his head towards her. 'I just want to get out of here,' she muttered into his shirt front.
'You heard the lady, Fred,' Barrett said lightly, his arm moving around her shoulders as the reporters, surprisingly, stepped aside, grumbling goodnaturedly but acquiescing to the steel softness in his voice.
Dani wanted to run out of the front door, but the arm around her shoulders kept her firmly at Barrett's side as they walked unhurriedly across the lobby and through the doors. On the hospital steps, she turned to thank him for his help even as she resented the necessity for doing so. But he propelled her down the steps, turning her towards the parking lot.
'I can make it on my own now, thank you,' she stated, shrugging herself free of his arm. 'I don't need your help any more.'
His fingers slipped to her wrist, holding her when she would have walked away. His superior strength forced her to stay.
'In two minutes those reporters would find you and you would be in the same predicament as before.' His mouth curved in a complacent and humourless smile as he studied the mutinous expression on her face. 'I know it goes against the grain, but if you want to avoid them, you'll have to accept a ride from me.'
With her lips pursed in an angry line, she glared at him, angry that she hadn't been able to extract herself from the reporters without his help. And worse, he was taking delight in rubbing her nose with that fact. He was entirely too sure of himself.
'Where's your car?' Dani snapped churlishly, turning away from the green eyes that made her feel small and silly.
He gestured towards a racy, cream-yellow sports car parked next to the kerb, sleek and low to the ground, and Dani knew she would be forced to sit disgustingly close to this arrogant man. His attitude, as he ceremoniously opened the car door for her, was deliberately cavalier, a jibe at her own lack of manners. She hugged the door as tightly as possible while he walked around to the other side.
'Where do you want to go?' he asked, darting an amused glance while he started the motor and put the car in gear.
The muscles in her body tensed as she tried to think of a destination. To request that he leave her at a bus stop would only arouse his curiosity, at her reluctance to tell him where she wanted to go. And hesitating too long before answering him would achieve the same thing. Quickly she told him the name of a small café near the race-track.
'Don't you want to go to your hotel?' he asked curiously.
'Not right away.' Dani kept her gaze firmly fixed on the road ahead. 'I…I made arrangements to meet a friend at the café.'
Under the cover of one hand, she crossed her fingers. It was a half-truth since she intended to telephone Marshall Thompsen to arrange a meeting with him. She sensed that Barrett didn't altogether believe her and expected him to probe further into her statement. Bracing herself to put him firmly in his place if he did, Dani was surprised when he fell into a thoughtful silence that lasted the short distance from the hospital to the café.
When he pulled up to the kerb, her hand automatically reached for the handle of the door, anxious to be away. But his quietly spoken voice halted her.
'I'm sorry about The Rogue. I hope you believe me,' Barrett said quietly.
She glanced over her shoulder at the copper head tilted towards her, openly doubting the sincerity behind his comment. Again she examined the strong character lines of his face, handsome and powerful, reckless and ruthless, and very compelling.
'I don't need your pity,' she retorted waspishly, refusing his sympathy.
Fire flashed momentarily in his expression, then Barrett averted his head, reaching into his pocket to remove a piece of paper and pen. Suspiciously Dani watched him write on the paper and hand it to her.
'Here's the telephone number at my apartment,' he said.
Dani stared at it, making no move to take the paper. 'Why would I want that?'
'If you run into any difficulties in the next couple of days, I'd like you to feel free to call me,' Barrett replied patiently.
'I won't need your phone number because I won't require your help. I'm not a child. I can handle anything that comes along,' she told him sharply.
'The way you handled the reporters?' he mocked softly.
'I know you believe you rescued me, but I could have got away without your help,' Dani snapped. 'I appreciate the lift, but my friend is waiting for me.'
'Yes, I'd forgotten about your friend.' Open doubt and amusement was written on his face.
Dani tossed a last poisonous glance at him before she shoved open the door and stepped on to the concrete sidewalk. As she slammed the door shut, she heard her name called. Her head jerked in surprise, then a triumphant smile lit her face as she saw Manny Herrera walking quickly towards her. She knew very well that Barrett King would assume she had intended to meet Manny, and she purposely struck up a conversation with the jockey while the sports car pulled away from the kerb.
The instant the cream car was out of sight, she excused herself and hurried into the café, going directly to the enclosed public telephone booth where she dialed the number Marshall Thompsen had given her.
Always impulsive as she was, it never crossed Dani's mind that a more cautious person would have thought twice before contacting a virtual stranger. Her father had pushed her out on her own, extracting a promise that she wouldn't revert to the world of horse-racing which was the only life she knew. She had never had any interest outside horses. At this point she was open to any suggestion.
Marshall's assertion that he could make her a model was an intriguing one, especially if there were no strings attached. His additional statement that Barrett King might not like what he had in mind only added to her curiosity. Whether she was attractive enough or had the figure to become a model, Dani had no way of knowing, but she had picked up the confidence in the columnist's tone. Besides, he looked like a man who knew what he was talking about. And Dani was confident that she would be able to tell whether his proposal was sincere or if he was only trying to take advantage of her.
Half an hour after she had called him, Marshall Thompsen walked into the café, his dark gaze sweeping the clean but uninspiring interior with a disdainful eye. Last night he had taken her by surprise, only allowing her time to form a hasty opinion. As he slid into the booth seat opposite her, she began a discreet study of him.
Living around a race track all her life, Dani had learned to spot the difference between the professional gambler and the average man, a wealthy person from a well-dressed person, a confidence man and an honest man. Rarely was she ever wrong.
Marshall Thompsen was dark and handsome. That much she remembered from last night. Now she noticed the softness in his chin and jaw, the slightly petulant pout of his lower lip, not altogether unattractive, yet she knew he couldn't compare with the strength in the lines of Barrett King's face. The even tan she suspected came from a sun lamp, while she was positive Barrett's was the
result of many hours spent in the outdoors. Nor was there the suggestion of muscular hardness beneath the well-tailored jacket.
In a Thoroughbred, these faults would have disqualified him as good material because it would reveal he lacked stamina and heart. With humans, Dani had learned that you had to be more broad-minded. So the faults she noted were balanced by the intelligence of the wide forehead and the sharply observant dark eyes. She tried to guess his age and decided Marshall must be a couple of years younger than Barrett King, which would put him in his very late twenties or very early thirties.
As the waitress placed Marshall's requested-cup of coffee on the table, Dani decided that as long as their relationship was based on business she could trust him.
'I wondered if you would call me this morning.' He glanced at her briefly as he stirred sugar into his coffee. 'Somehow I felt sure you would.'
'You made certain of it by keeping your proposal very mysterious,' Dani guessed accurately.
'It pays to not reveal your cards all at once,' Marshall smiled. 'If you were the faint-hearted type, frightened by your own shadow, you wouldn't have been of any use to me and you wouldn't have phoned me. Now I know that if you agree to my offer, you'll be capable of carrying it out.'
'Exactly what is your offer?' She forced him to meet her gaze. 'You said last night you could make me a model. How would you go about doing that?'
'First I would take you to a hair-stylist and see what could be done about that virtual crew-cut you wear, then some respectable clothes. There's a certain professional photographer who owes me a favour. I wouldn't presume to promise that I'll make you a top-flight model. Being photogenic doesn't open the door to success.'
'However?' Dani prompted, knowing there was something more behind his offer.
His smile broadened at her failure to be swept along by his offer. 'As I said, I'm a columnist with a fairly well-known reputation in certain social circles. The power of the printed word could make you fairly well-known in a short time, a minor celebrity you might say, enhanced by the fact that you've already received considerable publicity. I could be a Professor Higgins to your Eliza.'