'Lost your tongue?' he enquired drily when she was silent.
'I wasn't saying anything because I haven't got anything to say,' Quincy threw, back crossly, glaring at him.
'There's a novelty,' he mocked. 'A woman who doesn't talk if she hasn't anything to say—you must be unique. I'm surprised you're still wandering around fancy-free—are all the men in your life blind?'
'No,' Quincy said demurely, looking down.
She felt him watching her. 'I didn't think to ask,' he said, in an altered voice. 'Is there someone in your life?'
'What business of yours is that?' she asked, and his fingers closed round her chin, lifting it until he could see her green eyes.
'Is there?' he insisted, then a sudden frown pulled his brows together. 'Now I remember it, there was someone with you last night, wasn't there? When you opened the door I got a vague impression of a guy lurking in the background. I'd forgotten him. Who was it?'
'Brendan,' Quincy said. 'My father's partner.'
'Married?' he asked quickly, and she shook her head. 'How old is he?' Joe demanded.
'Thirty.'
His mouth twisted and he released her. 'And does he harbour ideas of marrying into the practice?' he asked in a light, mocking voice. 'Does he fancy you, Quincy?'
'What if he does?' she asked, something inside her prickling angrily. Had he imagined that she had no boy-friends? Quincy's pride rebelled against the idea that Joe had decided she was unlikely to have other men in her life.
He leaned back, his hands clasped behind his head, the long supple body at rest.
'I suppose it would be very suitable,' he drawled in a dry voice. 'Your parents would approve—they wouldn't be losing a daughter, just acquiring another vet.'
'I don't think that's funny,' Quincy flared. Her temper shot away from her and she added furiously: 'What's the matter, Mr Aldonez? Disappointed to discover I'm not going to be quite the push-over you expected? If you had the idea that I was going to fall into your arms without a qualm, you'd better think again. I've agreed to go through with this ridiculous cheap publicity stunt, but only under pressure. As far as I'm concerned, the sooner this is all over, the better I'll like it. I shan't enjoy pretending to think you're the best thing since sliced bread, I hate telling lies, even when there seems to be no alternative. You should have hired an actress to play the part of an adoring fan, she might have done a much better job. I won't find it quite so easy to pretend.'
Joe had sat listening to her, his face changing, until by the time she had run out of steam he was staring at her, no longer a charming, mocking man with teasing dark eyes, but a man carved out of flint; features hard and grim, eyes glittering.
CHAPTER THREE
Before he could react, however, someone tapped at the door of the suite and a moment later the floor waiter wheeled a laden table into the sitting-room, bowing to them as he courteously said: 'Good day, m'sieur, mademoiselle.'
Joe rose with a graceful twist of his lean figure as the waiter drew two chairs up to the table. Quincy got up, too, and sat down with the waiter bowing behind her chair. He flicked out one of the starched damask napkins and laid it over her lap.
'Bon appetit,' he murmured, and she gave him a weak smile.
When he had gone Joe picked up a glass of the red wine he had ordered and drank some, his eyes lowered. The room seemed to Quincy to be heavy with brooding hostility. She concentrated on her steak, although she had lost all appetite. Joe ate, too, in silence. Quincy was bitterly regretting her stupid outburst, but she could not bring herself to apologise. How could she explain to him that her anger had been born out of a miserable sense of her own very ordinary self, her lack of beauty and glamour, compared to the sort of girls he must meet every day? Her pride had wanted to deny that she found him violently attractive—she would rather have him think he left her cold than have him realise she could hardly take her eyes off him when he was in the same room.
He might have been flirting lightly with her, but it had meant nothing, Quincy realised that. Either he had been amusing himself with her—which stung her pride—or he had been going through the motions, acting to keep her happy, making her feel terrific. He was a public performer, after all, he was used to make-believe. It wouldn't be hard for him to use every ounce of that undoubted sex appeal to make her head spin. When he sang he turned it full on like some high-voltage spotlight, his male sensuality throbbing in every husky note. It didn't mean a thing to him, but Quincy was determined not to let herself fall for it. She would only get hurt. She was a small town girl and she took life seriously—she did not need to have a diagram drawn for her to understand that if she took Joe Aldonez seriously she would be in danger of losing her heart.
They had just finished their meal when Carmen Lister and Billy Griffith arrived. Carmen threw a comprehensive glance over the table, lifted her perfectly arched brows in amusement.
'Has Joe been wining and dining you?' she asked Quincy with a smile that stripped Quincy's pride bare, as she read the cynicism, the mockery, in the other woman's face. Perhaps Carmen Lister had had the dazzling spotlight of Joe's charm turned on her some time? Carmen was more able to protect herself than Quincy, though. Her head was unlikely to be turned by one of his intimate smiles. Carmen Lister's head was screwed on very firmly, Quincy suspected.
Billy Griffith shook hands vigorously. 'Great to see you,' he told her. 'Wonderful—er…'
'Quincy,' Joe supplied as the man paused, obviously at a loss to remember her name.
'Sure,' said Billy. 'Quincy—cute name, I like it.' He gave her a nod and turned to Joe. 'Rehearsal three o'clock, Joe, and we get the plane to Liverpool tomorrow at eight-thirty. We're going straight to rehearse at the hall, everything's set up.'
Joe nodded. 'Fine. By the way, Quincy would prefer to stay with her sister while she's in London. Could someone drive her there?'
Carmen frowned. 'Where does your sister live?' she asked Quincy, who told her flatly, 'Chelsea.'
Carmen looked at Billy Griffith. 'I don't think that's a good idea, we ought to have her where we can see her,' she said.
'If that's what she wants, she must do it,' Joe interrupted in a curt voice.
'But, Joe…'
'No argument,' he said. 'It will put her at her ease, and it will look better for her to be staying with one of her family rather than with you.'
'That's true,' Billy agreed, and Carmen shrugged.
'Okay,' she said with an irritated frown. 'Just as you say, Joe. Come on, Quincy, I'll drive you there—I ought to meet your sister.'
Billy had wandered away towards the window, but he turned now. 'Is your sister married?' he asked. 'Got any kids?'
'No,' said Quincy, and he turned away, losing interest.
'Pity, good human interest there.'
Quincy looked at him with acute dislike. He wasn't a man, he was a money-making machine who cared for nothing but profit and made every single thing in life seem pointless unless it could be useful. She did not envy Joe his life, surrounded by men like that, men for whom everything had to have a commercial motive.
'You'd better ring to check your sister's home,' Joe told her in a quiet voice, and she turned to pick up the phone. This time the ringing was answered and Lilli's voice said: 'Hallo?'
'Lilli, this is Quincy.' Conscious of the others listening to her, Quincy sounded unlike herself, her voice low and breathless.
'Quincy! Where are you? When will you be in London? I can't wait to see you—I'm just so excited, I can't believe this has happened to you, of all people!'
Quincy laughed lightly, glad no one else could hear what Lilli was saying and indignant at the last frank comment. What did Lilli mean? Her of all people? Why shouldn't it have happened to her? The fact that her own reaction had been as incredulous was beside the point, she felt.
'I'm in London,' she said. 'Can I come over now? I've been trying to get in touch with you, but you weren't answering your phone.'
'I was shopp
ing,' Lilli explained. 'Of course you can come now—I'm dying to see you, are you at the station?'
Quincy decided not to tell her she was in Joe Aldonez's suite at a swish London hotel. 'I'll be there in a quarter of an hour,' she said. 'See you soon.'
Joe moved to pick up her coat. Quincy stiffened as he held it, sliding it up her arms. Having him anywhere near her did something drastic to her heartbeat, and that made her angry with herself. What sort of idiot was she?
'I'll be seeing you when I get back from my gigs,' he said behind her in a deep, cool voice, the sound of it iced with a lingering memory of what she had said to him before their lunch arrived.
She nodded and followed Carmen out of the suite. By the time she saw Joe Aldonez again, she told herself sternly, she was going to have herself firmly under control again, her stupid heart obediently keeping its usual regular rhythm and her blood flowing around her body at a sensible speed. He wasn't going to see her blushing and jumping with nerves every time he touched her in future.
'What's the address?' Carmen asked her as the doorman held open the door of the small red car.
Quincy told her and slid into the passenger seat. A moment later they were weaving their way through heavy London traffic, turning south towards the Embankment along the Thames. The spring day was fading softly, the air cool and bright, but the sky a delicate lavender blue over the steel-grey river. Knots of barges passed slowly along the water towards the docks and a yellow-beaked gull screamed as it climbed above the choppy water.
'Your sister works in London, I suppose?' Carmen asked, giving her a brief cold look. Quincy distinctly got the feeling the other girl did not like her much, but Carmen Lister was the sort of girl who made you feel her own sex was not on her wavelength, she was strictly a man's woman; businesslike, tough and independent.
No doubt she used her sexual attraction, of which she probably had a plentiful supply, if she thought it useful, but Quincy could not imagine her losing her head or missing a night's sleep over a man. She talked to Billy Griffith as an equal, which, Quincy felt, was a betraying attitude, and although she smiled at Joe Aldonez with a definite glint in her eyes, Quincy wouldn't like to bet on it that Carmen was any more excited by him than she was by anyone else. Carmen had the hard eyes of a woman with her gaze set on her own future.
'She's a dancer with The Panthers,' Quincy said, and felt Carmen shoot another stare at her.
'Oh, is she?' There was thoughtful assessment behind that remark. 'What do you do, Quincy? I gathered you just helped at home.'
'I'm the receptionist in my father's surgery,' Quincy told her. 'I help my mother in the house, too, when she needs it.'
'A home girl,' Carmen commented, and she wasn't being complimentary, she made it sound like a purring insult. 'Haven't you ever wanted to do something more exciting?'
'No,' Quincy said defiantly. 'I like helping my father—I like animals and I hate to see them in pain, I get satisfaction out of knowing I'm helping them. I can't think of any other job I'd rather do—except be a vet myself, and I wasn't good enough to take the exams. There's too much to learn and it takes years.'
Carmen smiled, kind contempt in her face. 'Well, so long as you're happy,' she dismissed as she pulled up in front of Lilli's flat. Lilli had two small rooms on the ground floor of a narrow Edwardian terraced house several streets away from the river. It was a very good flat, the rent exorbitant, but it was central in the overcrowded city, and Lilli had been delighted to find it.
Carmen watched as Quincy rang the door bell. As the door jerked open Lilli flew through it, laughing. 'Quincy, I don't believe it, I really don't…' She stopped, seeing that her sister wasn't alone, and Quincy said politely: 'This is Carmen Lister, the editor of Vibes, the magazine who ran the competition— Carmen, this is my sister, Lilli.'
'Hi,' said Carmen, running narrowed and very sharp eyes over Lilli, her face reflecting the surprise of seeing someone so beautiful.
Lilli smiled back. 'Hello—come in, both of you.'
She was so supple you almost felt she was entirely boneless, her slender body light in movement, graceful as an autumn leaf floating down from a tree. Her awareness of her body was constant, she did everything as perfectly as it was possible to do it, her gestures and smiles elegant and delicate, with the sort of effortless perfection achieved only by years of hard training disguised deliberately so that art might be mistaken for sheer accident. She was wearing black jeans and a formal white shirt, ruffles of lace tumbling down the front of it. Her red hair burnt in the dusty London air as she walked across her tiny sitting-room.
It amused Quincy to see Carmen Lister's expression. The look of amused condescension had gone. Lilli was not someone to be treated with condescension.
'I'm having a hard time making myself believe Quincy has got herself a date with Joe Aldonez,' said Lilli, smiling. It wasn't an unkind smile, merely one of laughing disbelief. Quincy loved her sister, but she felt her teeth meeting as Carmen and Lilli looked at each other in comprehension.
'We're very happy with her,' Carmen said coolly. 'She's perfect for what Joe's press agent wants.'
'I can see why,' said Lilli, and laughed again. 'But I can't help thinking my little sister needs a bodyguard if she's going to be exposed to Joe Aldonez's charm. She'll be playing way out of her league. She won't have a clue how to tackle him.'
Carmen gave her a patronising smile. 'She'll cope just for one evening, it will be the memory of a life time, something to tell her grandchildren about.'
Quincy wanted to scream and bite the furniture. Who did they think they were talking about?
'We'll have a lot of work to do on her first,' Carmen added, and both girls looked at her with neutral, assessing eyes.
'You can say that again,' Lilli sighed. Her long, graceful fingers tapped on the curve of her chin, her nails polished and gleaming. 'What did you have in mind?'
The question sent a wave of chill alarm through Quincy. She did not like the way they were surveying her, like architects regarding a building they are about to tear down and mould closer to the heart's desire.
'Her hair,' said Carmen, shuddering. 'Just look at it!'
Lilli looked and made a wry face. 'And her clothes, of course,' she suggested. 'A good manicure, a facial, a few saunas and some hours in the gym…'
'Am I going out with a singer or training for the Olympics?' Quincy asked sarcastically, but they ignored her.
'First we have to set up a session with a photographer,' Carmen said. 'I thought we'd have some before and after shots—some pictures of her before she has the date with Joe and another set taken afterwards.'
What was this date supposed to do for her? Quincy wondered. Turn her into a raving beauty?
Glancing around the little room. Carmen inspected everything in it carefully. 'Can we have a photographer here tomorrow? Joe and the rest of his crew will be in Liverpool for a few days, we'll have plenty of time. I'd like some pictures of her here with you and then some taken of her going around some London tourist traps.'
Lilli smiled, giving Carmen a nod. 'Be my guest, can I come along when she goes around London?'
'Why not?' shrugged Carmen. 'Great idea—you're showing her the sights, the two of you should make some great pictures.' She walked to the door. 'I'll be along around ten o'clock tomorrow, don't let her out of your sight, will you? I don't want any of this story breaking through other channels. I have this exclusive, remember! Or the whole thing is off!'
When she had gone, Quincy collapsed into a chair, closing her eyes with a deep sigh. The whole day had been a strain, she was exhausted and it was wonderful to be able to relax and feel at home.
Lilli stood in front of her in a classic dancer's pose, her hands on her slender hips, her feet placed carefully, one heel tucked neatly into the instep of the other foot.
'I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw those pictures of you in the paper. I thought I was hallucinating.'
'You and me both,' Quincy agr
eed without opening her eyes. It helped to tell herself it wasn't really happening—it might be the response of the ostrich, digging its head into the sand, but it certainly made her feel more able to go through with this whole ridiculous charade. If she kept telling herself she had fallen down a rabbit hole and was in a crazy Wonderland where nothing was real, she could cope with things.
'You aren't very talkative,' Lilli remarked. 'What's he really like? Come on, Quincy, give! Tell me all about him, I'm dying to hear some of the inside story.'
'Don't ask me,' said Quincy. 'Ask his publicity department, they invented him.' Her voice held an unaccountable sting which surprised her as much as her sister and she opened her eyes a second later, angry with herself.
Lilli was staring at her, round-eyed. 'Well, well,' she drawled, starting to smile. 'That doesn't sound like an adoring fan.'
'I'm not,' Quincy said furiously, getting up. 'I didn't even fill in that stupid competition form—Bobby did. Didn't Mum tell you what happened?'
'No,' said Lilli, looking even more surprised.
Quincy told her and Lilli laughed a good deal, which at first annoyed Quincy, and then made her suddenly start to laugh too, seeing the funny side of it for the first time.
'What a hoot!' grinned Lilli. 'Trust Bobby—that boy is a hatful of surprises!' Her face softened as she said that—there was a strong bond of affection between Lilli and Bobby. The long gap between them, in age, had made their relationship a very special one. By the time Bobby was born, Lilli had been a skinny, long-legged schoolgirl already obsessed with dancing, spending all her spare time limbering up and doing ballet exercises, but she had been fascinated by the new baby and eager to take care of him when she was at home. She had spent little time with him since she went away to London, but that old fondness still persisted. Between Lilli and Quincy there had always been a trace of rivalry. They were so close in age, both girls, and they had competed instinctively, quarrelled over possessions, argued and squabbled. That rivalry had died down as they grew up, especially after Lilli left home, but they had never been as close as Lilli and Bobby had been.
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