DECEIT OF A PAGAN

by Carole Mortimer

  'And does the fact that he is dead and unable to help you make your need any less important?' he snapped harshly. 'Or are you willing to carry on as you have been doing, barely managing to support the two of you and having to accept your employer's pawing in an effort to hold on to your job?'

  There could be no doubt about it, Leondro Marcose was furiously angry. Up until now Templar had seen him condescending, arrogant, chillingly cool, and just downright rude, but never angry. In anger his eyes be­came a steely grey and his face gained an animation she found fascinating. But no, this man was made out of the same mould as his brother, taking his pleasures where he could and leaving the woman involved with­out a second thought, if indeed he had had first ones.

  'I would welcome your pawing even less,' she told him vehemently.

  'You will never be given the opportunity to welcome or reject my touch.' His eyes flickered over her inso­lently, from the auburn glory of her hair, over her make-upless face, and slowly down over her naturally slender body. She heaved a sigh of relief when the traffic lights changed to green, his attention once again centred on the road. 'You do not attract me in the slightest,' he added cruelly.

  'You can be assured that the feeling is reciprocated!'

  'Good,' he said with some satisfaction. 'And now that we have disposed of that little matter perhaps we can attempt an unemotional conversation. I would like to know what you think you have achieved by changing your address?'

  'Nothing, obviously.'

  'You hoped to evade making a decision one way or the other?' Leondro Marcose queried mildly. 'But surely you did not think that once I knew of Keri's existence I would calmly leave you to make your choice? But no! You have a noticeably stubborn streak in your nature, Templar Newman, and I guessed you might attempt something of this nature. You have been closely watched since we last spoke together.'

  'I've been what?’

  'You have been watched,' he repeated calmly.

  She looked at him sharply. 'So you've been checking up on me? And how many men were reported to have visited my flat?' she asked sneeringly.

  'Only one. And apparently he did not look too pleased when he left the premises.'

  'Really? Oh dear, I must be slipping. My men usu­ally go away satisfied,' she told him shrilly.

  'Templar!' he snapped, looking at her darkly. 'You will not talk in this way.'

  'Why not? It's what you expect of me, isn't it, that men come to see me for one reason only?' Her green eyes flashed her anger.

  'I have not said so,' he replied stiffly.

  'No, but you've implied it.'

  He shook his dark head. 'Not in the way that you are saying it. If I thought that you went to bed with every man you met then Keri's future would already have been settled—I would simply have taken her away from you. No, I believe that you have a certain amount of affection for the men you—please, otherwise you would not still have Keri in your care. I would have re­moved her straight away.'

  'Well, thank you very much for your faith in my morals, Mr. Marcose, but I don't need it. What you do or do not think doesn't make any difference to me. I wouldn't marry you if you were the last man on earth!'

  'Not even for the baby?' he asked softly.

  'Not even for her!'

  With a tightening of his mouth he made no com­ment and Templar saw, thankfully, that they were nearing her flat. What would he do now? Would he simply take Keri away from her or would he not carry out his threat to do so? Somehow Templar knew he was a man of his word, and that her agreement to his plans wasn't necessary to him. She hadn't meant it just now when she had said she wouldn't marry him to keep Keri, it just wasn't true. She had been willing to marry Ken to keep her, and she was just as willing to marry this cold hard stranger for the same reason.

  Without being given directions he had driven straight to her tiny flat, following her into the house where she collected Keri from a smiling Mrs. Street and carried the gurgling baby up to her own room. This was the time of day she loved best with the baby, when she could play with her for an hour or so, give her her bath, feed her, and then tuck her sleepily into her little cot. If she had carried on with her modelling career all this would have been left to a nanny, with her snatching the odd day with the baby in between travelling to assign­ments. Much as she loved this daily ritual with Keri it would have to wait a while this evening. Rather annoyingly Keri seemed to have taken a liking to the tall man with her 'Mama', holding out her arms to him to be held. Templar thrust her into his arms, turning away tearfully as Keri gave him her angelic smile and re­ceived a softening of those harsh features in return. . . 'Excuse me,' she said huskily. 'I'll just go and put the kettle on.' She fled into the kitchen before she made an absolute fool of herself. Close together like that there had been little doubt about their family likeness, and in a way Templar thought it unfair that Keri should have none of her mother's fair looks at all. Poor Tiffany, who had given her life for that small precious bundle of fun gurgling so happily in the arms of her aunt's greatest enemy.

  Oh God, how she cursed herself for ever writing that letter! She should have waited for a few months, seen if things improved in any way. Instead her impetuous nature had led her into even greater unhappiness.

  'Templar?'

  She didn't turn, trying unsuccessfully to erase the tears from her cheeks. She felt herself gently turned round and she shivered slightly at the touch of his firm brown hands on her shoulders. Instantly they were re­moved. She looked at him through a sea of tears, flinch­ing at the grim look in his now slate-grey eyes.

  He forced up her chin. 'Now stop this, Templar, it is unnecessary. And it spoils your beauty.'

  She gave a tremulous smile at his gentle tone. 'I thought that had alreadv been spoilt'

  He turned away. 'I have never denied your beauty, as I have never denied that Keri is like you in every way. Keri?' he queried sharply. 'Is this not a strange name?'

  'It's short for Kerina,' Templar explained, although she thought this an even more unusual name. Tiffany had chosen it herself during the few hours of life she had left to her after the birth of her daughter. Templar had never questioned it, but in the way that often happens the name had soon become shortened to Keri, and now she couldn't imagine that little squirming mass of fun being called anything else.

  'Are you sure?'he asked shortly.

  'Of course I'm sure.' What a silly question! Did he

  imagine she didn't even know the baby's name? 'Why?'

  she asked curiously, sensing that it meant something to

  him. -

  He shrugged his wide shoulders. 'It was my mother's

  name. Alex loved her very much.' A new respect en­tered his eyes. 'And I think he must have loved you very much too for him to have told you about her. It is

  not something he would have told a mere '

  'Mistress?' Templar supplied sweetly. 'But what makes you think he did tell me about her? I might have just chosen that name at random.'

  He shook his head. 'It is hardly likely. It is too un­usual for it to be so.'

  Templar was inclined to agree with him. Tiffany had been adamant about the baby's name and at the time she had been too ill for Templar to enquire why. And a few hours later she had died. But Alex must have told her about his mother, there could be no other explana­tion. Could Templar have possibly misjudged him? But no, his brother had admitted that Alex had a fiancee, that he was to have been married only a month after he died. No, Alex Marcose must have been as she had imagined him to be, a young boy out for fun. And Tiffany had been that fun. Poor Tiffany, to give her beautiful young life through the selfishness of such a boy.

  'What are you thinking about now?' Leondro Mar­cose demanded arrogantly.

  'I was thinking that I will marry you after all. But on one condition.'

  His head flicked back haughtily. 'I hardly think you are in a position to make conditions, do you?'

  Templar shrugged her shoulders. 'That's up to
you, of course. But my condition is this—I will not be pushed off into the background of your life as if you're ashamed of me. If that's the case then I think the baby and myself will be better off without you. If we're to be man and wife then I at least insist that we live in the same house.'

  'You will insist on nothing! You will do as you are told! You know as well as I that we have no desire to share the same house.' His eyes narrowed suspiciously. 'Or have you decided to try your womanly charms on me after all?'

  'Certainly not!' Templar blushed a fiery red at his wrong conclusion to her plan. She merely hoped he would change his mind about marrying her and simply look after her and the baby instead. 'That was the last thought on my mind. But if we're marrying to provide a stable home for Keri I do think it would be better— for her—if her mother and father lived together. Or do you intend to be a shadowy figure who appears in her life every six months or so and showers her with gifts?'

  'That was not my intention. But neither was it my intention to live with you. You must see that it is im­possible.'

  Oh, she did, only too well—that was the whole point. 'Then I'm afraid the idea of marriage is impossible too. It just wouldn't work any other way. What could I say to Keri when she's older and wants to know why we live apart? That's almost as cruel as not having a father at all, crueller in some ways.'

  'Good God, you talk as if the situation you find your­self in was my fault!'

  'And isn't it? Isn't it? Alex was your brother. Didn't he do exactly what you would have done in the same position? Didn't he?'s he demanded.

  He held himself stiffly. 'I have never refused to face up to my responsibilities, and neither has Alex. He would have provided for you if you had informed him of your—condition.'

  'And if I didn't want his charity?'

  'Then you were a very stubborn as well as stupid girl. But no matter, I regret I cannot live with you.'

  'Oh, don't regret it,' Templar said smugly. 'I thought that might be your answer, and in the circumstances I can't marry you. If you choose to take me to court about the baby's guardianship that's up to you, but I'll fight it. Oh yes, I'll fight it! I don't think you would like the publicity any more than I would.'

  'Perhaps not, but I would win.'

  'Naturally,' she admitted. 'But would you like to put Keri through all that?'

  'Would you? Oh, very well! We will share a house. It will have to be near London, I have too many busi­ness ties here to live anywhere else.' He looked im­patiently angry at her blackmail.

  Templar was dumbstruck, her plan backfiring on her. She hadn't expected this. She had thought he would drop his ideas of marriage and instead she had made matters worse. She would now have to share a home with this man. She shuddered at the thought of it. 'Um ' she hesitated. 'Perhaps—perhaps you were right. We—we could live apart.'

  'No, you are right. Keri needs both parents.'

  Templar felt a sick sinking feeling in her stomach. What had she let herself in for now?

  CHAPTER THREE

  Templar relaxed back on the garden lounger, smiling happily as Keri crawled about at her feet. They spent most of their afternoons like this and already, after only a few weeks, the two of them were attaining a healthy glow, that had been sadly lacking. To Keri the huge garden was like a forest, and she loved nothing better than exploring its green depths.

  It was three weeks since Templar's quiet wedding to Leondro Marcose, or Leon as she now called him. Not that they were any more friendly towards one another, but she could hardly address her own husband as Mr Marcose. Mrs. Harvey, the housekeeper Leon had en­gaged, would have found that very odd, even odder than their sleeping arrangsments. Leon's bedroom certainly adjoined her own, but the door between them was firmly locked and she could only assume that Leon had the key; she had certainly never seen it.

  She had won the argument about not employing a nanny for Keri, although as a compromise she had agreed to a young girl being employed to help in her care. She couldn't possibly resent Lucy's shy offers of help and so the two of them managed very well. Luck­ily Keri liked her new playmate too.

  And so everything ran smoothly and efficiently and Templar could almost have been happy if it weren't for her unwanted husband. He would never say anything to her, but she was always conscious of his silent dis­approval of her. She was well aware that he only toler­ated her at all because she had proved, in fact more than proved, that she was a good mother. And even Leondro Marcose couldn't deny the baby's love for her.

  She watched Keri as she crawled over the flower­beds, her tiny body suitably clad in denim dungarees and a white tee-shirt. She didn't think Leon particu­larly approved of his 'daughter' wearing such clothes, but as yet he had made no comment. Templar glanced apprehensively at her wrist-watch. It was almost time for Leon to arrive home, the time she disliked the most.

  A slight movement near the house caught and held her attention, and she found herself tensing as her hus­band shortened the distance between them with long easy strides. But her eyes passed on to the tall willowy blonde at his side, her hand resting possessively in the crook of his arm as she laughed provocatively up into his deeply tanned face.

  Templar stood up, self-consciously smoothing down her creased denims and the white tee-shirt that matched the one Keri was now smearing with dirt. The baby laughed gleefully as her beloved 'Dadda' picked her up in his arms and swung her round, laughing up­roariously at the pleasure in her tiny heart-shaped face.

  She watched the two of them with fascination. With Keri, Leon was a completely different man, showing a side of his nature that Templar had never dreamt ex­isted. He walked towards her now, Keri still in his arms, and the blonde girl still at his side. As they drew closer Templar had to suppress her gasp of recognition as she had a better view of the woman beside her hus­band. Rachel Winter!

  The girl's blue eyes widened slightly as she also recognised Templar. 'Why, Templar darling,' she drawled huskily. 'What are you doing here? Surely you aren't darling Leon's little nanny?'

  Templar blushed a furious red. She and Rachel had never been friends. Winter by name and wintry by nature, that was Rachel, except in the company of a handsome man, and then she purred like a satisfied cat. 'No, Rachel, I'm hot Leon's nanny,' she replied coolly, looking pointedly towards her husband.

  Leon stopped tickling the baby's toes long enough to look at the two women. 'Templar is my wife, Rachel. I thought you realised this.'

  'Your wife?' Rachel's blue eyes narrowed chillingly. 'Templar is? I know you said you were married, darl­ing, but I didn't realise that it was to Templar. I didn't even realise you knew her,' she smiled slightly. 'But by the look of that beautiful baby in your arms I would say you've known her for quite some time. So this is why you suddenly disappeared, Templar!'

  Leon looked at them enquiringly. 'How do the two of you know each other?'

  'Why, we're both models, darling,' Rachel laughed again, and Templar wondered if it was only because of her dislike of her that she thought the humour didn't reach this beautiful girl's eyes. 'At least, we were,' she amended. 'Are you aware that you've stolen one of the world's most sought-after models? Not that I mind, less competition for me.'

  'You have no need to worry about competition,' Leon put in smoothly. 'You are very beautiful.' He smiled gratefully at Lucy as she brought out a tray containing three glasses of ice-cold lemonade. He handed Keri to the young girl. 'Please take the little one for her bath now. Her mother and I will be up to see her presently.' He sat down between the two women, handing them each a glass in turn. 'I have told Mrs. Harvey that there will be one extra for dinner this evening, Templar. You will be staying, of course, Rachel?'

  The model crossed one perfect leg over the other. 'That would be lovely, Leon. But don't let me interrupt your role of domesticity, Templar. I'm sure this lovely husband of yours and I can find plenty to talk about.'

  Templar awoke from her dream world at the dis­missal in the other girl's tone. She mig
ht only be here on sufferance, but she would not be made to look a fool in her own home. What part did Rachel play in Leon's life? And if it was the one Templar thought it was then he had no right to bring her here. Putting up with the company of his mistress was not part of their bargain. 'It's the usual practice for Lucy to bath Keri,' she said chillingly, glaring angrily at Leon. He had insisted that Lucy take over this duty and also be on call if Keri woke in the night, much to her chagrin.

  'I see.' Rachel sipped appreciatively at the lemonade, the hot weather too much for her to face alcohol this early in the day. 'I was sorry to hear about Tiffany,' she added.

  Templar stiffened, glancing nervously at Leon. Rachel could have no idea of the explosive subject she had just introduced to their conversation. 'Thank you,' she answered quietly. Oh God! She would have to change the subject quickly, she couldn't have Leon be­coming suspicious about Tiffany. 'I thought those photographs of you taken in Africa were marvellous,' she said hurriedly. 'Really superb. Neil Adams was the photographer, wasn't he?'

  'Mm.' Rachel visibly preened under the sincere ad­miration. 'He's really excellent. Actually, Tiffany was booked to do those photographs, but she backed out at the last minute. I think that must have been when she became ill.'

  Leon was watching them through narrowed eyes and Templar shifted uncomfortably. 'Yes—yes, I remember now.' Tiffany had had to cancel that engagement because her waistline was starting to thicken and she hadn't wanted anyone to guess at her condition.

  'What was actually wrong with her?' Rachel in­quired. 'I heard that she'd died, but no one seemed to know why.'

  Templar knew she was pale now, but she couldn't hide her distress, distress the other girl knew she must be causing when talking about her sister's death. It had been quite a few months since anyone had dared to mention Tiffany's death; the memory of it was still painful to her. What had made it all the more hurtful was the fact that they only had each other, their parents having died three years earlier in a pile-up on a motor­way. With only a year difference in their ages the two girls had always been close, even closer after the double tragedy.