She could feel him watching her, waiting for her to rise to his provocation, but she contemplated the passing scenery with perfect equanimity. It was a mere pinprick, after all, easily ignored. She felt unwontedly triumphant.
Dain studied the clean line of her profile. In the shaded light of the car the sallowness of her complexion lost its force and he could concentrate on the bone structure without the distraction of color tones. The chin was sweetly curved, if a trifle obstinate, and the nose, where it was not weighted down by those unattractive spectacles, was classically modeled. The lips were fuller than they looked full face, especially the lower one, and Dain wondered how she had achieved that thinning effect. It must have to do with the color of the lipstick she used, he finally decided.
Looking at her from the side, the shielding effect of the heavy glasses was diminished and he became aware of the dark length of her eyelashes and the high cheekbones. With a sudden shock he realized that, in profile, she was beautiful. He sucked in air sharply and she turned to look at him curiously.
Sitting so close to her he realized several other things as well. At such close range he could study her eyes through her glasses and he saw that they were a dark sea-deep green, much the color of his own. He also realized that her lenses had no magnifying or distorting effect, which meant that they were either pitifully weak or mere glass with no prescriptive strength at all. In other words, they were part and parcel of a disguise. She was deliberately, for some unfathomable reason, making herself look like a frump!
He shut his eyes, the better to concentrate on these revelations, and at once became aware of the perfume she wore. It had subtly teased his senses since she had entered the car, but the distraction of her outward appearance had pushed its message into his subconscious. Now it was surfacing and he could match it to the inner vision of that flawless profile.
Green eyes, titian hair, and a neck like a swan's. He'd take a bet with any odds that the body underneath that chaste and chastening suit was just as lovely as the rest of her, and just as deceptively packaged. No wonder Schyler Van Metre was panting on the trail. A cruel smile curved his mouth.
"This is an extremely important conference today, Miss Dalton. Accuracy in your notes is essential." Dain's eyes opened to survey the impassive face of the woman who watched him warily and for a long moment their eyes locked in a silent struggle. Although her face remained inexpressive, behind her glasses the dark green eyes carried a message hard to define except that it wasn't friendly.
Keri turned her profile to Dain again, breaking the eye contact. "Of course, Mr. Randolph. I always strive for complete accuracy. I am sure you will find the quality of my notes most satisfactory, sir." Keri kept her voice colorless with an effort and continued, "Do you wish to brief me on the purpose of the meeting or give me any special instructions before we arrive, sir?" He nodded, but waited for her to finish all her questions. She continued, "Would you prefer the final form in the original languages or would you prefer a completely translated copy?"
He looked at her narrowly. "Will you take the notes in the languages of origin?" he asked curiously.
"Of course, sir, if that is what you desire." Keri maintained her impassive mien. She looked at him guilelessly for a short moment before facing forward again.
Dam's mouth compressed, Subtly, in a way he couldn't voice a precise objection to, she was getting to him. She was a caricature of the superefficient secretary and he didn't doubt she could do all she promised. Her notes would be impeccable and he would stake RanCo that she wouldn't miss an important word or sign during the whole conference. And if she sirred him one more time he would strangle her!
In keeping with her deliberately drab appearance, Keri seemed determined to project an image of machinelike efficiency which obscured her reality as anything more than a piece of office furniture. If he hadn't already been curious about her, it might have worked, for a time, at least. But, as with all defenses which depend on the concealment by camouflage, once alerted to the presence of the prey a predator can easily strip away the ephemeral shield to expose the quivering, tender morsel beneath.
He would strip away her pathetic, evasive ploys at his leisure, he decided. It shouldn't be difficult at all to prize her out of her shell of respectable drabness, even if he had to crack it a bit in the process.
He began to brief her on the topics of the conference and the men who would be present. Keri pulled out her notebook and began to take notes, her pencil slipping rapidly over the page. He gave her a list of the names of those to be present plus a thumbnail sketch of each. He watched as she listed each man and appended a symbol beside each name, different in each case. When he asked her the significance of the symbols she explained. "They tell me who ' said what... a sort of shorthand shorthand." There was just the faintest hint of a smile playing around her mouth, so elusive he couldn't truly be sure it was really there.
When the conference started, Keri blended into the background with the ease of a chameleon. Dain eyed her sourly, half admiring, half irritated at her consummate ability to efface herself. None of the other men at the conference seemed even aware of her presence, save as the sibilant slide of pencil over paper or the hand which passed coffee cups when breaks were taken to moisten throats dry from wrangling.
Keri was an irritating burr in Dain's consciousness, unobtrusive but stabbing sharply at unexpected times. From the corner of his eye he discovered that he was distracted by the smooth length of shapely leg which was visible to him, free from the enigma of her face.
If he swiveled his head a bit further, her hands came into his line of vision, tracing symbols with deft rapidity over the notebook. Graceful, long-fingered, with short, oval nails buffed to a healthy sheen but innocent of polish. She wore no rings, only a businesslike chain-linked watch to point to the delicacy of her wrists, and Dain wondered suddenly how a glowing emerald would look on those slender fingers. With irritated discipline he dismissed the fanciful thoughts and wrenched his attention back to the conference.
Keri was well-satisfied with the course of the role she played. No man paid more than the most cursory of attention to her and if her lips curved into a self-congratulatory smile while she bent her head over her racing pencil, no one saw it, not even Dain. Her skills were extended but not overtaxed and she enjoyed the sensation, for she always welcomed a challenge, especially one she had no real difficulty in meeting.
When the conference broke for a meal, Keri hung back, planning to find her own lunch and enjoy the break from the ceaseless recording. The men agreed to make do with a mere forty-five minutes of conviviality, but she was in no position to quibble. She'd take what she could get.
The firm clasp around her elbow was unexpected and unwelcome. She looked down at the hand that held her so firmly and back up into the ironic green eyes, keeping what she hoped was a bland expression to match the one on the hard, handsome face that closely scrutinized her own.
"Going somewhere, Miss Dalton?" asked the smooth, deep voice.
"Yes, sir, to my lunch," she answered with surprise, which she hoped wasn't overdone.
"Your lunch is this way, Miss Dalton, with me." As he was speaking, Dain was irresistibly propelling Keri along beside him, in the opposite direction from the one the other men were taking.
Keri knew better than to argue. Docile, efficient secretaries never gainsay the boss, but her mouth was tight and her nostrils slightly pinched as she walked beside him to a single elevator, which he activated with a key. To her dismay, they rose instead of descending. Dain maintained his clasp on her elbow, slightly eased in strength, even while they were alone in the cubicle. Keri prayed earnestly that they wouldn't get trapped between floors through some freak celestial joke perpetrated by a malicious prankster of a god. She already knew, the farther away she could stay from Dain Randolph, the safer she'd be! There was danger in every one of his seventy-four inches of long bone and hard muscle.
When the elevator slid smoothly to a stop,
there was an agonizing pause before the doors opened to release them. Keri hoped that Dain hadn't noticed that she had been holding her breath and she tried not to let it all out in too audible a whoosh of relief. The commanding hand relentlessly urged her out of the elevator and they walked forward into a luxurious apartment.
Through a floor-to-ceiling glass wall she could see a table laid for two on a small terrace. A silent-footed servant came forward, rather in the manner of a genie out of a bottle, and murmured greetings respectfully to Dain. He acknowledged the greeting and ordered the man to serve the salad while they washed their hands, reminding him that they were going to be pressed for time.
Dain directed Keri toward a luxuriously appointed bathroom, choosing to utilize the one attached to the master suite himself. She washed and dried her hands in a state of bemusement and no little trepidation. This was going to be tougher than she thought, with Dain in such close proximity for so long a time. Those deep green eyes were windows to an uncomfortably keen brain, one which could strip pretense away as easily as an ecdysiast peels away her gaudy garb with a flirtatious flip of a hip.
She went back out into the living room, head high and chin tilted at a determined angle. He was waiting for her. He escorted her solicitously, giving her the feeling that she was a favored and slightly doddering maiden aunt, onto the sunlit terrace. He pulled out her chair, seated her, and took his place across from her. Keri immediately became defensively absorbed in the deliciously crisp green salad. He allowed her three peaceful bites before he pounced.
"Take your glasses off, Miss Dalton." The order was fiat and expected obedience.
Keri's startled eyes flashed to the hard face that watched her so intently, her own face unguarded momentarily and as shocked as if he'd ordered her to strip naked. Then her own defenses reasserted themselves and she surveyed him coolly.
"Why?" She questioned both his motives and his authority bluntly.
His face darkened. He wasn't used to being questioned. He lifted his hand swiftly, and before Keri had a chance to jerk her head away, he pulled the glasses off her nose. He held them up and looked through the lenses, his mouth curling in a smile that held little amusement. He tossed them contemptuously onto the table between them, and they slid to a stop against the salt shaker. Keri's hand twitched as though to grab them, but with an effort of will she refrained from doing so. She looked at Dain with a perfectly composed face, lips thinned and prim.
"Stop looking like an outraged old-maid schoolteacher, Miss Dalton," Dain advised her with asperity. "Those spectacles you've been cowering behind are nothing but pure glass. You don't need them at all."
"No, I don't," Keri admitted serenely. "I have perfect vision." Now she took another bite of her salad, chewed it reflectively, swallowed, and began to eat steadily with outward composure.
"You're certainly a cool one," Dain said with unwilling admiration.
Keri could have told him that inwardly she was quaking like an aspen leaf in a high wind, but she managed to continue eating steadily. Each bite scraped down a throat that threatened to close tightly from tension, but no sign of her inward agitation appeared on her smooth face.
Dain let it rest as they were served with the main course, but as soon as the servant had departed to the kitchen regions, he returned to the attack. "Why the charade, Miss Dalton? You could be an attractive woman, but you choose to masquerade as a fusty old maid."
With a sigh of resignation Keri finished the bit of quiche she had been eating and put down her fork. "I prefer to keep my business and private lives separate, Mr. Randolph. I found that impossible when I appear at work in my normal guise." She continued with a defensive tone. "I am sorry if that sounds conceited or vain, but believe me, it is merely the statement of a painfully learned fact." She picked up her fork and resumed her meal.
"That’s why the varied employment history?" he questioned perceptively.
"That's why."
Dain made no direct comment for a long moment, seeming to reflect on her words, and then he attacked directly. "I am giving a reception for the gentlemen of the conference tomorrow night. You will be there to act as my hostess and you will, by then, have shed this pose and be dressed in your normal style."
"And if I refuse?" Keri's green eyes glittered furiously.
Dain's face took on frighteningly ruthless lines and he spoke with menacing softness, "You will not refuse, Miss Dalton. You will carry out the duties required of you as one of my confidential secretaries, as I direct you."
Keri was defeated and they both knew it. The choice was most clearly laid out before her. If she wished to keep her job, she would do so on Dain Randolph's terms, no other way. Somehow he knew her for what she was, and once he had pierced her masquerade, it was useless to her.
"Very well, sir," she admitted herself bested. "Shall I handle the arrangements for the reception?"
"No, Miss Barth has them well in hand. She will brief you on them tomorrow morning." He smiled slightly to himself. "She has also been informed that you are to act as hostess because of your linguistic abilities."
Keri's lips twitched irrepressibly and for a brief instant a current of humor ran between them. Miss Barth was not going to be pleased by Keri's transformation from ugly duckling to svelte swan and they both knew it. Keri's amusement was short-lived, however, for she knew all too well what problems coping with a jealous co-worker could present, and she was sadly familiar with the Miss Barths of the world. She had no desire to engage in a struggle for power, but Miss Barth was going to see it as a direct threat when Keri unexpectedly and dramatically blossomed into a tiger lily. Keri sighed wistfully. Life had been so pleasant for the three months as Mr. Simonds's secretary. Now those months resembled the eye of a hurricane, and the winds of conflict and destructive force were rising once again around her. Schyler had been a tempest in a teapot. Dain Randolph was like a devastating typhoon.
She refused dessert, picked up her glasses, and replaced them firmly upon her nose. Dain scowled horribly, but Keri looked right back at him with calm determination. Tomorrow night would be soon enough for her transformation and she had no intention of going back to that conference room different from how she had left it, especially after a luncheon a deux with her boss. Prim she came in, prim she would go back out!
"Is this your apartment?" she questioned him, looking for a subject to fill the time while he ate the fruit he had chosen as a finish to his meal. She didn't for a minute think it was, because the whole apartment had the slightly sterile air of a first-class hotel, but she had no desire to sit in intimate silence with him. So she made aimless conversation. She wasn't exactly nervous, but she was a long way from being at ease in his presence.
From the sardonic gleam in his eyes she knew he was fully aware of her disquiet, but he played the game by his own particular rules and answered her civilly enough. "In a manner of speaking, it is. This building belongs to RanCo and we keep this apartment for the convenience of visiting dignitaries and for the times when entertaining on a smaller scale is desirable."
There was not the slightest hint of an innuendo in his tone, but Keri knew he was laughing silently. He was totally at ease as he lounged in his chair, finishing his succulent peach. Well, why shouldn't he be, she thought crossly. He's certainly had everything his way, and I'm feeling a perfect fool.
Somehow she endured the rest of the tete-a-tete and the afternoon that followed. By firmly cramming the speculations and what-do-I-do-nows down below the level of conscious worry, she managed to maintain her morning level of efficiency, but the effort left her feeling drained and limp by the time the conference concluded.
Fortunately Dain was engrossed in paper work during the drive back to her apartment and she was left in peace, ostensibly to review and plan the transcription of her notes. She began to extract a precis of the salient points of discussion plus position statements for each of the participants in the conference. Dain had not requested it, but it was standard practice a
s far as Keri was concerned.
She was determined she'd also have the verbatim transcription ready to lay on his desk first thing tomorrow. She knew he expected her to spend the morning on the transcription, but it was a point of honor to have it ready at his hand when he sat down, even if it meant she was up half the night.
She'd show him she was an executive secretary, not just a pretty face! Keri took a composed departure from Dain in front of her building, smiling warmly at the chauffeur as he helped her from the car, and causing him to take another look at the plain Miss Dalton. That smile really had something! Dain caught the fringe of the smile as it rayed over the chauffeur and his mouth quirked in sardonic amusement.
No smiles for me, eh, girl? Well, we'll see about that, won't we?
Chapter Three
It didn't take half the night to complete the transcription, but Keri was glad to rip the last sheet of paper out of her portable electric typewriter. She stacked the sheaf of papers neatly and debated whether to pour herself a final cup of coffee. A glance at the clock decided her, and she emptied the rest of the liquid in the percolator down the sink drain. She had a feeling that she was going to need a good night's sleep!
She'd made a sketchy meal when she got home, but had been too eager to get started on the evening's work to do more than open a few cans and improvise with dabs of leftovers. Now, with the impetus gone, her stomach announced its presence with a gentle reminder. Placating it with a bologna and cheese sandwich, she finished proofreading her evening's output, and well satisfied, went to bed to sleep the undisturbed sleep of the just.
The next morning, moved by a perhaps foolhardy desire to impress upon Dain Randolph that he couldn't dictate totally to her, and the equal desire to avoid conflict for as long as possible with the possessive Miss Barth, Keri decided to delay her emergence from chrysalis until the evening reception. She chose a mud-brown tailored suit, teamed it with just the wrong shade of yellow blouse, and scraped her hair back into a bun for the last time.
Deceptive Love Page 4