by Margaret Way
'I've just got to make one more call, then we'll go. How are you, you look a little pale?'
'I didn't aim to be,' Jaime said wryly. 'Make your call, Quinn, I'll admire your office. It's very, what's the word? ...'
'Impersonal?'
'Not at all. It's more like' a home away from home. Very contemporary and tailored. Perhaps you could do with a few paintings on the walls.'
'See to it for me.' He was walking around to the other side of the huge custom-made mahogany desk with its crystal and chrome desk appointments, his dark face utterly preoccupied.
'Are you serious?' She couldn't tell at all.
'Yes.' He looked back at her, obviously having to transfer his concentration to her question. 'You can handle it, can't you?'
'Of course. What price range?'
'Round the two thousand five hundred dollar mark. No more. Abstracts. Concentrate on the young up and coming.'
'I should get into this myself!' Jaime said, smiling at the thought.
'Can you?'
'A few people have been kind enough to say I needed encouragement.'
'Notably not your father.'
'That idea had already taken root in my own mind. You didn't plant it.'
'Don't flash your eyes at me, Jaime. Perhaps he didn't relish the idea of competition from his own daughter, which is what he might have got!'
'Oh well,' she said guardedly, 'it's neither here nor there anyway. We were discussing your paintings. Leave it to me. It will be a great pleasure. More, exciting !'
'Good girl!' He picked up the phone and immediately timed out on her. Very shrewd was Quinn, and he had only met her father the once. She studied his handsome, downbent, frowning face, heard him ask for a Mr Brian Donovan, then she turned slightly in her camel-coloured suede upholstered chair, giving her attention to the scale of the room and the size of the walls. It was a very large office, with a long sofa flanked by contemporary chrome and leather armchairs with a chrome and glass table in front of this seating arrangement, well away from the desk area with its opposite wall of mahogany cabinets which came about waist-high. The room would take, comfortably, two large canvases, one above the rust-coloured sofa, another above the long line of cabinets. A flood of natural light streamed in from the lightly curtained window wall at the back of the desk. She shouldn't have too much trouble with her selection, there were many brilliant young artists to choose from.
She was still deep in thought when Quinn finished his call. He marked his desk calendar, then looked across at her intent face for a moment. She looked a dream as usual, very young-sexy-chic, but she was pale, and a number of possible explanations occurred to him.
'How are you coping with the family?' he asked, without compunction.
'You've half guessed it.' She turned back to stare at him coolly. 'A fight all the way.'
'Then it's time to get you out from under their feet!'
'That's what I'm here to talk to you about.'
'What happened this morning specifically?' he asked.
'Why?'
'Jaime,' he said impatiently, 'you're the very picture of health, the spirit of youth if you like, but this morning you're so pale, I get no pleasure from commenting on the fact.'
'Damn you, Quinn,' she said a little breathlessly, 'you're making me feel unattractive.'
'That wasn't my idea. I'm nearly nerveless, you're so beautiful. Are you going to tell me, or do I have to wait for hours?'
'After lunch, maybe,' she promised.
'In that case, we'll go out!'
He stood up and came around the desk to her, his eyes going over her, the gently tailored little blazer suit, her new hair-style that made the most of her lush fall of hair; a kind of sophisticated pageboy, glossy and perfectly cut, just clear of her shoulders. At the moment, with her head down, it was swinging in a shining dramatic curtain over one cheek. He leaned forward and tilted her head up, holding it there.
'Hello, Jaime.'
'Hi, Quinn!'
'You sound about ten years old.'
'Can you really spare me the time?'
'No.'
With his hand under her chin she was forced to meet the gleaming mockery of his eyes. They spelled out a kind of breathless excitement, an element of danger for her, and she was beginning to react. There was nothing calm or ordinary about Quinn. He was a super-human and very hard to handle. In fact she was sure she couldn't handle him at all. 'I have a funny feeling you're trying to hypnotise me,' she said with a wavering intensity.
'No,' he said briefly.,
'All right, go ahead.'
'Not here, Jaime.'
'Not anywhere! I won't surrender. Go on, laugh, but I tell you I mean it.'
'You look pretty intolerably pressured. Coming?'
'You know quite well I want to.'
He leaned forward and almost lifted her to her feet, and the worrying thing was he could make her tremble, her initial sensations beginning to multiply by the second. She tried to smile at him, but the veiled intensity was shining out of her eyes. It was unsuitable and ruinous, but Quinn Sterling was dangerously fascinating to her, and she communicated her feelings with a youthful lack of control.
'I thought I could see you without kissing you, but I can't!' he said with sardonic self-mockery.
'Why not?'
'To be honest I don't know. I don't always do things I want to do. You seem to be swaying my better judgment.'
'That's ridiculous.'
'Yes, isn't it?' He ran his hand down the side of her neck and she was shocked at the trail of fire it left. Jaime was trembling now and with certainty he knew it, his touch sealing them both off in a private world. There was no one in the whole building and she was committed irrevocably to letting him dictate this awesome excitement. She shook her head and her hair swirled about his hand.
'I'm not used to this, Quinn.'
'What's wrong with it?'
'We haven't a thing in common.'
'Put that out of your mind for all time. It simply doesn't apply!'
'Well, it doesn't strike me as a very good idea. We're business partners, remember?'
He greeted that with an involuntary, disturbingly attractive laugh. 'Would you do me a favour, Jaime?'
'What?'
'Just shut up. It won't be half as bad as you seem to expect.'
She recognised that herself with awful clarity, the blood tingling in her veins, his dark face going slightly out of focus as if she were a little drunk. If he touched her she would precisely melt. She felt so weak and yielding, it was really the time to pray, but what would she be praying about, when it was this she so ardently desired?
'You mean it, don't you?' she half-whispered.
'I'm afraid so.' There was laughter in his voice that was quickly banished as soon as his mouth touched her own. It seemed essential for them to draw together as closely as possible until Jaime wasn't even sure she could move away from him again. The pleasure and faint pain he was inflicting on her was exquisite, a hard and ravishing, brilliantly provoked sensuality. Her body couldn't lie. Her mouth couldn't lie and she was' responding very naturally and quite passionately to his consummate skill, making a suicide of her vow of non-surrender, thirsting after this complex and fascinating man. His ability to arouse her was fantastic and it was also alarming, even if he released her abruptly as though unwilling to prolong these impossible moments.
When she opened her violet eyes he was studying her closely. 'It's all right, Jaime, it's all over.'
'I think I'll kill myself!' she said dramatically.
'I'd never let you. You wanted it, I wanted it. Now we'll go out and have lunch. I've booked a table at Carlo's.'
'It's crushingly expensive,' she warned.
'And what's that to do with you?'
'Nothing.'
'I believe you.'
'I just spoke out of my habitual thrift.'
'I know, but I'm paying the bill. Besides, the food's superb and it's very quiet. I hat
e noise and being stared at when I'm attempting to put a bite in my mouth.'
'I wonder you're not used to being stared at. It's only just this minute struck me, but you're a very handsome man. An hidalgo with black eyes and black hair and an easy accustomed arrogance.'
'Thank you, Jaime. I wasn't looking for a compliment.'
'You've got one.'
'As long as you mean it.'
They had fallen into their usual light banter and her heart began to slow its mad racing. For a few moments there, his personality had engulfed her completely, so much so that the touch and the scent of him still clung to her. Now he had switched roles again from the intensity of a lover who knew intimately the very texture of her skin, to a charmingly domineering, much-older-and-wiser-than-you-are mentor. This way, at least, she could control her own body and mind, not give herself over to the tormenting, dazzling Quinn Sterling.
At Carlo's, their host came forward beaming, clapped his hands together, and made pleasant conversation, showing them to one of the beautifully secluded alcoves upholstered in plush velvet; an aura of everything in the very best of taste, the linen crisp as snow, the flowers small and pretty and freshly picked, a paradise of a restaurant if one had the financial standing to pick up the bill. Jaime, on her own account, would never have ventured through the front door. The world of affluence was new to her and she was deeply suspicious of high prices.
The food, however, when it came, was so delicious, the wine list so illuminating, that her ever-present conscience about the world's starving millions was momentarily lulled. This was her opportunity to speak to Quinn, to have his night-black eyes touching her lightly, with such infinite skill to sway and excite. They weren't even through the Sydney rock oysters with a cold Chablis before she knew she was going to tell him everything, very clearly and sharply as though it was all happening right under his eyes.
He listened in complete silence with no prompting, and simply contented himself with getting all the facts and not firing her justifiable sense of anger and alarm.
'That's it!' she said when she had finished, her blue-violet eyes blazing in her small face.
He gave her an odd smile, laced with his own well-projected smouldering. 'Extraordinary, Jaime! I could almost enjoy your tale, if it weren't for the fact you're too young to suffer their enmity.'
That silvery flicker in the centre of his eyes frightened her. 'It might have been just a lot of hot air,' she ventured, seeking not to tone down her own perfectly accurate account.
'No, Jamie,' he said, deadly quiet, 'you'd be making the biggest mistake of your life if you thought that.'
'I don't really. Uncle Gerard looked as if he could cheerfully have choked me. At least he put a lot of effort into the impression.'
'And Simon?'
'I think Simon has plans for me.'
'How?'
'You said it yourself, cousins marry.'
'I think it's a dangerous practice myself.'
She shrugged. 'The lesser of two evils. They can't really put a weight around my neck and drop me into the harbour.'
He was looking at her with astonishing attention, so hard and alert that Jaime, unused to his boardroom face, found herself blinking. 'And I'll tell you why,' he said tersely, 'you're the jewel of the family, the very apple of your grandfather's eye. They're not going to shed many tears when he goes, but they don't dare risk angering him now. They could only stand to lose. You see, little Jaime, you're much too important a person.'
'That doesn't prevent them from firing away at me when Grandfather is out of sight.'
'No,' he said grimly. 'I must tell you I regard it as a measure of your courage that you're mentioning me at all.'
'They hate you,' she said simply. 'Perhaps more than they hate me.'
'I've worked hard enough for it!' he said, and smiled.
'They're not too happy with my silly ambitions either.'
'Which, incidentally, is what I really want to know about. Tell me, Jaime, are you still interested in becoming a career woman, which means working very hard?'
'I'm not a piece of prized porcelain!' she said, looking bewilderingly delicate and worthy of a glass case.
He seemed to think so too, for his faint look of tension relaxed. 'Yet that's exactly what your grandfather wants and expects of you. Your future is secure. You don't have to work at all.'
She stared at him a little helplessly as though he had withdrawn his support. 'Why are you talking like this?'
'You've had over a month of wealth and comfort. It's assuredly yours for life if you toe the line.'
She looked down at the small, perfect centre-piece, the intermingling soft pastel shades. 'It might sound absurd, but wealth and comfort aren't among my goals for life. By-products maybe, not even necessarily. The thing is, I'm no good at wasting my time and whatever talents I've got. I don't want to get up about ten and sit around the pool all day sunning myself until it's time to dress and go out for the night.'
'A lot of people would be glad to put up with it,' he observed dryly.
She glanced across at him sharply, her violet eyes electric. 'Is, our deal off?'
He threw up his hands, his teeth dazzling white in his handsome dark face. 'Jaime, Jaime, the times I've seen that warring glance! You're like the old man, did you know that?'
'Oh, shut up!'
'You are!'
'What does that mean, I've lost an ally?'
'Just a sprinkling of his drive would take you to the top.'
'I asked you a simple question, Quinn Sterling, my friend or my enemy. Are you still with me?'
'That depends, Jaime, on what I get back!' he said, and his words weren't merely sounds but a series of shivering caresses.
Curiously her body was curving towards him. 'I know that doesn't mean what it sounds like,' she said, wondering again at his mysterious and absolute power.
'No, it doesn't!' he said crisply as though he had just changed his mind. 'Such a pity you're not ten years older.'
'Please, Quinn!'
He thought for a moment, his face losing its expression of mockery finely edged with sensuality. It tautened into the exact world of big business. 'I'm not a fool, Jaime, and I don't entertain angels unawares. To answer your query, I'm with you all the way. By the sound of it I'll lose money if I'm not. I've even lined up premises for you, and a staff of three. Now I have your assurance you're ready to start work, I'll go ahead and register a company with a working capital of, say, twenty thousand dollars.'
'That's a lot of money!'
'It's not, but it will start you off. First we'll see how well you shoulder responsibility, then we'll think of expansion. I know you've got sensational legs and you'll have to use them, charging around with samples, seeing buyers, shops, boutiques, department stores, that kind of thing. I imagine you're going to make up a small collection—you might at this stage have to model them yourself. You'd be ideal.'
Her eyes were fixed on him, captivated with the whole idea, blazing with a youthful intensity to succeed. 'I have my designs already worked out. They're aimed at the young fashion-conscious with not a great deal of money. Someone like myself who likes to look good and can't spend a fortune. I'd prefer to do everything myself for a while. Detail is so important. What about this staff?'
'Excellent women, I'm sure. They're only too pleased to line their pockets at any rate. I'm sure you'll find you can delegate the assembly of the garments to them, but I'll leave you to handle all that. One of them is a graduate from the Institute of Technology. The other two, older women, have worked for various fashion houses. None of them have the verve or the flair to get going on their own, but they'll be just what you want in the way of a team. In time you can do the designing and the organisation of the cutting sheets and let them do the making up.'
Jaime picked up her wineglass and drained it, knowing she was being rash, but lured on to a wonderful new horizon. 'Where are the premises?' she asked.
'Double Bay.'
'Sort of. A most agreeable place to start, anyway.'
'How am I going to thank you?' A surge of rapture was on her, colouring her flawless skin and flooding out of her eyes.
'Succeed,' he said, and resisted the strong impulse to give her quite a different answer.
'Oh, I will!' she promised, reaching over and touching the tips of his fingers.
'You're very brave in a restaurant.'
Their eyes met and the seconds spun out endlessly. 'Don't play games with me, Quinn.'
For answer he imprisoned her wrist.
'Tyrant!'
'Partner!' he said, watching her from under hooded lids.
The silence lengthened until a pulse began to beat at the base of her "throat, a little frantically, and her thick black lashes fell on her cheeks. 'If you let me go I'll tell you something else.'
'I'm not hurting you,' he said.
'Yes, you are. It's strange, but you are.'
'No other way is possible, Jaime!'
'I knew the moment I laid eyes on you you'd affect my life,' she said inconsequently.
'I'm not demanding anything, am I?'
'You're a very clever and perceptive man, Quinn. Perhaps you're trapping me into something.'
'Keep that up and I really will hurt you.'
She lifted her head and saw his bitter, beautiful smile. 'I'm sorry.'
'I want to make love to you, Jaime. Now.'
'For everyone to see?' she said, with her own incurable desire.
'I thought we were on an island.'
'Would you then?'
'If you can say that you know nothing about me at all.'
Her hand under his trembled convulsively and he released her as though suddenly contrite or at least mindful of her youth and innocence. 'Relax, Jaime. These are only words. I won't lose track of the fact that you're only nineteen going on twenty.'
'An open book for you to read,' she agreed bitterly.
'I am hurting you, aren't I?'
'I told you that. Right at this minute you could lead me anywhere. I suppose that's because I'm a woman, but I'll grow up.'