She danced a few forlorn steps, but the mood had vanished and she couldn't recapture it. The magic of that evening would never return, she thought sadly. As she walked toward the door, she spotted an object that had slipped unheeded behind a table, and she stooped to retrieve it.
It was a small lady's fan carved of iridescent mother-of-pearl. Cara carefully turned it over in her hands, admiring the filigree design of each rib. The pivot that joined the delicate fan sticks together was set with a cluster of flashing opals.
Clearly someone had lost this lovely object, which Cara knew to be of some value. She clicked the fan closed, deciding to put it away in a safe place, since whoever had dropped it in the ballroom would presumably return to look for it.
Cara's spirits rose slightly when she entered the drawing room of Xanadu. The most unusual feature of the room was its ceiling, a lofty, gold-leaf copy of a similar design from a palace in Venice. The focal point was a huge carved sunburst which seemed to recreate the glory of the bright Florida sun. On the walls hung several rare silk needlework panels imported by Conn Grandolf from a castle in Portugal, and a bar was concealed in a paneled closet.
She hurried to the arched windows and threw open the shutters to let in the sunshine, then stood for a moment to watch the gilded ceiling glimmer with light above her.
Several immense Spanish cabinets of intricately carved oak held a collection of jeweled clocks. Cara pulled a low footstool close and sat down to begin her inventory. It was not until she glanced at her watch hours later that she realized that it was time for lunch.
Ingrid, looking harried, was putting the final touches on a plate of sandwiches when Cara reached the kitchen. "Sorry," she apologized, "but I'm running late today. I'm still not finished with the cleaning after the ball."
"Time slipped away from me, too," Cara confessed. "Have you eaten lunch? Somehow I don't relish another meal alone."
At Cara's invitation, Ingrid joined her at a small table in the kitchen. Cara nibbled thoughtfully at her sandwich, barely listening to Ingrid's good-natured chatter. Her attention was caught, however, when Ingrid mentioned Blake.
"I had to hurry to prepare Otto's lunch before ours today," Ingrid was saying. "He received a call from Blake at the airport. Of course, we didn't expect Blake to return so soon, and he was angry besides—"
"Angry?" interrupted Cara. "Did he say what was wrong?"
"I was on the extension phone and he said that the Aspen trip had not worked out. This Mr. Caylor refused to see him, and Blake isn't accustomed to being refused anything. So he had to turn around and come straight home. 'Otto,' I said, 'it's too bad you didn't know Blake was coming back today. You could have stayed at the airport after taking Alec there this morning.' Of course, Otto didn't want to stop to eat his midday meal, but I insisted. There's nothing like a good meal in the middle of the day, I always tell him."
"Is Blake here now?"
"Not yet. Otto called a while ago to say they're stuck in traffic. Some road construction problem." Ingrid pushed back her chair. "If you'll excuse me, I have to go pick up the dry cleaning. Heaven help me if Blake's favorite tux isn't here if he wants it." She took their empty plates and hurried away.
Cara returned to the clock collection, but after she discovered that she had listed one clock on two different lines and had almost entered it again, she abandoned her laptop. She was ready to hit the tennis courts, where she could hit a few balls and get some of the restlessness out of her system.
After retrieving her racket from where she'd left it earlier, she let herself out of the house. Although the pool beckoned, Cara kept walking toward the courts. She needed to hear the resounding thwack! of racket on ball, to feel the total absorption of every muscle in her body tensed to deliver a strong, telling blow.
Xanadu boasted two tennis courts and a high green practice wall rimmed on all sides by a tall mesh fence. Cara unlatched the gate and let herself into the court area. To one side stood several patio tables shaded with striped umbrellas. Cara pushed open the unlocked door of the tennis hut and peered inside, where she found a can of new tennis balls. It felt good to hit the ball against the wall, catching it on the rebound and pounding it back again.
When she paused to catch her breath, Blake was leaning over the gate, a friendly smile on his face. "Tennis is a game not easily played by one," he said as he entered the enclosure. "How about a set?" He was carrying his tennis racket.
"I've been working in the drawing room," she said. "I really should get back."
"Don't be silly. I need a partner."
"Well, okay," she said reluctantly. She won the toss and elected to serve first.
Blake played tennis aggressively, as he did most things. Cara, who had played tennis since she was a child, tried to outsmart him, hitting the ball to his forecourt several times, and then smashing it where she thought it would be beyond his reach. Blake was brilliant at anticipating the ball and tirelessly volleying it back over the net. He finally won, but by a narrow margin.
"That was quite a game," she told him. "You're an excellent tennis player."
"So are you. You give a lot of competition."
"In the right places," she said before she thought.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Only that tennis is tennis, and work is work."
He seemed amused. "And relationships are relationships. Sometimes it's necessary to compete over those as well."
She could have let this go, but maybe it would be better if she didn't. She drew a deep breath and plunged. "Blake, we need to talk."
Blake studied her for a brief moment. "What's it about?" he said, trying to keep his tone light, but it seemed like an effort. From his facial expression, Cara detected that something was troubling him.
She sank onto a chair across from him under one of the striped umbrellas. "I—I think it would be best if we kept our relationship on a professional basis," she said. She held her breath and waited to see how he'd react.
He pinned her with his gaze and clamped his lips together. "Oh? And what is that supposed to mean?"
"You indicated before you left on your last trip that you want our relationship to step outside the usual employer-employee sphere. I'm not comfortable with that, Blake, for a number of reasons." There, she'd said it.
He waited for a moment to reply. "How much does this have to do with Alec?"
"Why, we're friends, but—"
"Friends?" he said. "How friendly are you, Cara? Friendly enough to stay until all hours in Alec's cabana last night? Friendly enough to spend your first night at Xanadu sleeping there?"
Cara hadn't expected this. She felt the blood rush from her face. "What difference is it to you?" she countered. "And how do you know where I was last night? Who has been watching me?"
Yes, she'd kissed Alec yesterday near his cabana in broad daylight and remarked to him that the whole world was watching. Had there been someone else observing? And why? It couldn't have been Blake. He'd been out of town.
"Take care whom you kiss on the beach, Cara," Blake said.
It didn't annoy her that Blake knew about her and Alec, but it disturbed her that someone had spied on her and reported back to him.
"Alec and I are friends," she said carefully, not wanting to reveal her feelings that they could be something more.
"Friends, or friends with privileges?" Blake leveled a long assessing look at her.
Cara felt her cheeks flush in anger. "Blake, it really isn't any of your business," she said.
"When you're working for me, and when you're carrying on with my brother who is undermining me every step of the way, it is."
"Alec and I aren't lovers, Blake. I was at the cabana last night, but I left early. And now I should get back to work." She rose to leave, racket in hand, barely concealing her anger.
She felt Blake's gaze on her back until she was no longer within his sight.
Chapter 9
Back in her room, Cara went into the
bathroom and turned on the bathtub taps, letting the water run full force. She was beginning to feel as if she lived in a crazy house full of mirrors that distorted everything that was said and done. She was sure that the farther away she stayed from Blake, the better, and she certainly didn't want to eat dinner with him tonight.
She lounged in the tub, pleasantly tired from playing tennis. After her bath, she threw on yoga pants and a top in preparation for visiting the kitchen to get a dinner tray and was startled by a frantic knock at her door.
"Cara, come quick!" When Cara opened the door, the housekeeper stood in the doorway wringing her hands.
"Ingrid, what's wrong?"
"It's Coco. He's loose. Please come and see if you can help."
"Coco? The monkey? What's he doing at Xanadu?" She quickly followed Ingrid down the stairs.
"The Princess came here looking for a fan she lost at the ball. It's valuable, she says....Tandy is with her.... Coco jumped..." Ingrid explained quickly.
Cara was unable to make much sense out of Ingrid's garbled explanation, but when she reached the foyer, she heard the Princess's shrieks.
"Coco! My darling baby!" Cara flung open the door to the grand ballroom and took in the scene.
The Princess, her carrot-colored hair flying, was scurrying up and down the wide expanse of the ballroom floor. Overhead was Coco, a triumphant grin on his face, chattering and swinging from one chandelier to the other. The huge prismed structures swayed and tinkled as Coco jumped gleefully across the spaces between them.
The Princess turned to Cara. "Do something, will you? Get my Coco down from there!"
Momentarily stunned, Cara couldn't speak. The Princess glared, her arms crossed on her flat bosom. Cara noticed Tandy standing immobile in the corner, her eyes shifting from Coco to her mother to Cara.
"Where's Blake?" Cara asked Ingrid.
"He went out for the evening."
"Otto?"
"He's gone too." Ingrid looked beside herself.
Cara resisted an urge to say a bad word. It looked as if she'd have to take charge, but she didn't relish the prospect.
"Call that, um, monkey," Cara said to the Princess.
"I've done that," said the Princess. "You can see that he doesn't want to come."
Cara looked up at Coco directly above her. He looked smug and self-satisfied, pleased with himself for having outsmarted mere humans. Idly he plucked at one of the many crystal prisms and took aim at her head. When he threw it, she dodged. The prism landed on the floor and shattered into hundreds of tiny pieces.
Ingrid, still wringing her hands, emitted a small moan. "Those chandeliers are priceless. Oh, what will we do, what will we do?"
"Ingrid, get in touch with Otto and tell him to come home. We'll need the highest ladder on the estate." She wasn't sure what good it would do, but it might be possible to coax Coco to the ladder with a bit of food or who knew what. This situation was way beyond her expertise in anything.
"Otto has gone back to the airport. Alec's flight is due any minute."
"Perhaps Tandy and I can manage the ladder, then," Cara said lamely, looking at Tandy and deciding immediately that she could expect no assistance from that quarter. Tandy was holding herself apart, ignoring Coco's romp on the chandeliers and tuning out her mother's hysterics.
The Princess turned once more to Cara. "If my Coco falls and hurts himself, I promise you I will—"
Cara had heard enough. "You'll what?" she shot back, fixing the Princess with a no-nonsense glare.
The Princess was taken aback. "Why, I'll—I'll—" she sputtered, but for the first time in Cara's experience, she seemed unsure of herself.
"You'll nothing," Cara told her, keeping her voice low. "In fact, you personally will pay for the repair or replacement of anything your monkey damages. I can assure you that it will be very expensive. Art and antique restoration usually is."
"That is no way to speak to me," the Princess said coldly.
"And furthermore," Cara continued in the same low tone, "as long as I am at Xanadu, your monkey is not welcome in this house. Is that understood?"
"Why—"
"We don't have the facilities here to deal with unusual pets, and the collections are priceless. Unless you agree to leave your monkey at home when you visit, I won't lift a finger to help your precious Coco."
"I'll tell Blake," the Princess threatened. "Just wait until he hears about this insubordination from an employee."
"His employee, not yours," Cara reminded her. Not to mention that he might fire her anyway based on their conversation at the tennis courts.
The Princess said nothing.
From Tandy's corner came a slow rhythmic clapping. "Bravo," she said in a strangely flat voice.
The Princess turned her furious gaze upon Tandy. "You shut up," she said viciously. "I'll deal with you at home."
The clapping stopped, and Tandy sank back into the shadows. Cara, horrified at this exchange between mother and daughter, felt sorry for her.
But back to the most pressing problem. Coco was now gamboling from one chandelier to another again, occasionally stopping to drop one of the delicate prisms on the floor. Something would have to be done—and soon—if they were to avert more serious damage.
"Ingrid," she directed, "I want you to call the airline. Find out if Alec's plane will arrive on time. If it's late, call Otto on his cell phone and ask him to come home. We'll need him here, and I'll text Alec to catch a cab from the airport if necessary. If the plane's on time, tell Otto to wait there and bring Alec with him. We'll need all the help we can get."
Ingrid hurried away to do Cara's bidding.
"I'm calling Blake," Cara told the Princess. "He needs to be here." She walked swiftly out of the ballroom and closed the door behind her. Leaning against a pillar, she punched Blake's cell phone number into her phone.
"What do you want?" Blake answered abruptly, and in the background she heard the tinkle of silverware and subdued laughter.
"It's the Princess," Cara said. "Her monkey's loose in the ballroom and he's doing damage."
Blake's laughter was incredulous. "Seriously?"
"Yes, you need to come home."
He swore. "What's the Princess doing there? How could you let this happen?"
Cara drew a deep breath. "I had nothing to do with it, and I'll fill you in on the details later. Please come, Blake."
"As it happens, I have plans that I can't change. You'll have to handle it yourself."
Now it was Cara's turn to be incredulous. "Coco is throwing chandelier prisms around the ballroom. The Princess can't get him down."
"Didn't we just hold the Animal Aid ball at our house? Call Animal Control. They owe us big time." His voice was muffled for a few seconds. "Take care of it Cara." He hung up.
Cara lowered her cell phone from her ear and blew out a long breath. Well, if Blake refused responsibility, she'd have to accept it. She didn't know the number of Animal Control, so she dialed directory assistance and called the number they gave her. Her phone went directly to voicemail, and Cara left a message. Then she went back into the ballroom to check on the situation.
The Princess was calling Coco, using terms of endearment that didn't appear to be affecting him at all. He stared down at the scene below him with beady eyes. Tandy was still in her corner.
Cara approached her. "Tandy, it would be helpful if you'd help me pick up these prisms as Coco drops them on the floor," she said.
Tandy stared at her. Cara impatiently turned away and began to retrieve the fallen prisms. While she was doing this, she saw a quick movement. Tandy had left the corner and was slipping out of the ballroom. Cara froze, a prickly feeling running up the back of her neck. Something—she didn't know what—told her she should follow. She set the prisms on a padded chair and rushed after Tandy. Across the vast foyer they went, Tandy speeding up and Cara trying to catch her.
"Tandy? Wait!"
But now Tandy was running up the curving
staircase, pausing once to glance wildly back at Cara.
"Tandy, stop!"
Tandy had reached the second floor and opened the door to the unoccupied north wing. She ran down the long corridor, leaning briefly into doorways as if searching for something.
Cara was close to catching up when she saw Tandy's eyes light up. Tandy threw open the small door that led to the minaret and clattered up the spiral staircase inside.
With a sinking heart, Cara followed her into the stairwell. She heard Tandy breathing ahead of her in the darkness and realized she'd need help to handle her.
"Ingrid!" she called, hoping the housekeeper could hear her. She thought she heard Ingrid reply but her words were indistinct.
Cara called up the stairwell. "Tandy, please come back! There's nothing up there for you!" Tandy didn't answer, which seemed ominous.
Cara finally reached the observation room high in the minaret. When she entered, Tandy was standing with her back to the window, her figure outlined against the swiftly encroaching night.
"Get away from me!" Tandy warned, her eyes hard and bright.
"Tandy, what do you want? Why did you come up here?"
"I've had enough of you! Taking Alec away from me!"
Cara fell back, stunned. "I've taken nothing from you. Come downstairs and we'll talk about it."
Ingrid's footsteps labored on the staircase behind her, and somewhere beyond, the querulous voice of the Princess rose in anger.
"I want Alec, Cara, and I mean to have him."
"Tandy, this is no place to discuss—" Cara was moving toward Tandy now, ignoring the frantic light blazing from Tandy's eyes. Tandy struck away her outstretched hand and backed toward the window, fumbling for the latch.
With a shock, Cara realized that the window was not a window at all but a cleverly concealed door. Outside, circling the minaret, hung a narrow observation deck of wrought iron bordered by a waist-high railing, which Cara had always assumed was merely decorative. In horror Cara saw that Tandy intended to step out the door onto the platform.
"No, Tandy!" she exclaimed, and then Tandy released the latch and was opening the door. Tandy shifted her full weight to the flimsy balcony.
The Beach Bachelors Boxset (Three Complete Contemporary Romance Novels in One) (The Beach Bachelors Series) Page 45