by Margaret Way
The two men shook hands.
“I see you’ve already met my niece?” James’ smile widened to include the two of them.
“We haven’t gotten around to formal introductions yet,” Royce McQuillan drawled.
“Please allow me.” Suddenly conscious of a certain tingle in the air, James performed the introductions, while Carrie, ashamed of the way she’d been acting and doing her utmost to avoid being overwhelmed, gave him her hand.
“Catrina, may I?” he asked.
“Everyone calls her Carrie.” James smiled, extending an arm to usher them through the door.
She didn’t have a clue what she was doing. She had never felt remotely like this around anyone else. The shooting sparks of electricity didn’t stop even after he’d released her hand. She couldn’t look at him. It was the dynamic aura, she consoled herself. Even James felt it and James was the complete man of the world.
A little later by the time they were inside James’ office, she found her voice. “It’s been a pleasure meeting you, Mr. McQuillan, but I should be on my way.”
James’ eyes found hers in perplexity. Something drastic must have happened to alter Carrie’s plan. “But I thought, kitten…”
Carrie felt McQuillan’s amusement. Kitten? How long since Jamie had called her kitten? Now twice in the one day. She turned to face Royce McQuillan square-on. “Goodbye.”
She didn’t offer the hand again but lifted a thick silky section of her hair from her collar as she spoke, tossing her head slightly to redistribute the mass.
An extraordinary alluring gesture, he thought. Kitten? She certainly had the colouring of a beautiful marmalade but this young woman had sharp claws. He noticed, too, the knuckles of her right hand were clenched white. They were beautiful hands. Long-fingered, strong-looking. A pianist’s hands.
“I was rather hoping you’d stay and have lunch with us,” he found himself saying. “My business with James won’t take long.”
“We’re going to Oskars, sweetheart. You like it there.” James weighed in, trying to encourage her. “They won’t have any difficulty changing two places to three.”
She wanted to go, unwillingly in thrall of him. “That’s very nice of you, but…”
“Please, sit down both of you.” James indicated the comfortable seating arrangement. “I was telling Carrie about your need of a governess for Regina,” he said, turning his eyes in Carrie’s direction.
“Were you? You can’t have thought she’d be interested?” McQuillan returned suavely, waiting for Carrie to take a seat in the armchair opposite him, before sitting down.
It was time for Carrie to speak, James considered, or let the whole thing slide. Knowing her so well, he could see her moods, however, were fluctuating wildly.
“Actually I’ve been working so hard on my career I’m in need of a complete change.”
Royce McQuillan stayed quiet for a moment wondering if she’d suffered some kind of nervous collapse. A burnout.
“I hardly see you as a governess,” he said. “What do you know about the job?”
“Nothing!” Her amber eyes sparkled. “But I like children.”
“Being able to handle them might matter more,” he observed, his eyes touching on her slender body in a summery two-piece outfit of blouse and skirt, white with dark blue polka dots, the short skirt showing off her beautiful legs, the V-neck of the top revealing the slight cleft between her milk-white breasts. She had the flawless skin of certain redheads. Not a mark on it for all she lived in a subtropical climate.
Carrie bore his scrutiny by sitting very quietly. A kind of balancing act. “Who said I couldn’t?” she retorted. “I’ve had quite a bit to do with talented children, coaching, giving lessons, master classes for the little ones.”
“Regina is a child who likes getting her own way,” he said matter-of-factly as though it needed to be said. “I don’t know what James told you,” McQuillan glanced in her uncle’s direction, “but her mother left her in my sole custody. Regina isn’t desolated but understandably she’s found that difficult to handle.”
As well she might, Carrie thought. Abandoned so early in life. This dizzyingly dynamic man for a father. “I had to live without my mother,” she said quietly. “I’ve had a stepmother for most of my life.”
“You don’t like her?” he asked bluntly.
“There’s no point in talking about it.” Carrie shook her head, not wanting to be humiliated by this man any further. He didn’t like her. She wasn’t being terribly likeable. Under no circumstances would he employ her. She made to rise. “It was just an idea I had. A spur of the moment thing. Besides something about the story moved me. Regina’s feelings that can’t be dismissed and I need to help someone.” To help myself, to survive, she thought but didn’t say. “I’m sure Uncle James will find you someone you consider suitable, Mr. McQuillan.” She stood up in one swift graceful movement. “I must decline your kind offer to have lunch. I have to see someone this afternoon at the Conservatorium.” Easy to make it up.
He, too, stood up, his expression a little darker. “What a pity. I would have liked to get to know you better instead of a few snatched words. James has spoken of you often. I’ve just recalled where I saw you though I can see it has since disappeared.” He turned to James. “Remember that photograph of a little girl you used to have on your desk. It had a lovely antique silver frame.”
“Carrie, of course!” James’ face lit up. “It’s at home. Liz went off with it. She loves that one.”
“I was ten at the time.” Carrie looked at Royce McQuillan in surprise.
“You haven’t changed at all.”
“I have, too.” I’m falling apart, Carrie thought, stunned how well she hid it. I just have to get away from this man.
“You’re wonderfully observant, Royce,” James said in his charming voice, fully conscious of the charge in the atmosphere.
“It’s not a face one forgets.”
“No.” James smiled at his niece, his heart in his eyes. “Carrie is the image of her mother, my darling sister, Caroline. Having Carrie, Caro is always near.” He reached out and slipped an arm around Carrie’s waist, drawing her to him.
“Love you,” she murmured, turning her head into her uncle’s shoulder. “Well, I must be off.” Her voice picked up briskly. “Enjoy your lunch.”
“Let’s see, I take it you’ve withdrawn your candidature?” Again Royce McQuillan cast his spell over her, his brilliant black gaze suggesting she was a highly volatile individual.
“I didn’t think you liked me?” she answered solemnly.
“Did I say so?”
“I believe you did. In certain ways.”
“Really?” One black eyebrow shot up. “I’m sorry you thought so. I didn’t mean it in that way. If you are serious, perhaps we can discuss the matter again as you absolutely must rush off.” It was obvious he hadn’t believed in her excuse.
“When do you fly back home, Royce?” James Halliday asked, not quite sure what was going on. But something certainly was.
“Tomorrow.”
His gaze held her as though she was pinned to the wall. “I think you want someone very different from me,” Carrie said, suddenly anxious to back out of a dangerous situation while she could. This man could change her life. She knew it. And not for the better. She wasn’t such a fool or so traumatized it hadn’t struck her, though her reactions were multiple, the overriding one was sexual. The slightest contact with his hand had somehow compromised her. This man still had an ex-wife in the background. An ex-wife who wasn’t over him yet. The mother of his child.
Carrie tilted her head to kiss her uncle’s cheek. “See you, Jamie. Give my love to Liz.”
“You are coming sailing with me?” James was mystified by her thoughts.
“Of course I am. Let’s hope for a perfect weekend.” Her skirt flaring as she changed direction, Carrie dared to glance in Royce McQuillan’s direction. “I’m thinking how I’m going to get
out of my parking spot. You’re still there?”
“I don’t know if I should let you do it,” he said with a provocative stare.
“Do what? It would be nice if you’d let me in on this,” James complained.
“I met Mr. McQuillan earlier on,” Carrie explained. “We’re both parked in the side street.”
“I can come with you if you’re worried,” Royce McQuillan offered suavely. “Perhaps extricate your car.”
“This time I might have to allow you.” The accident had made her lose so much confidence. “I wouldn’t like to do the slightest damage to your car.”
“Not mine. A friend’s.”
“I see.” She nibbled her lip. “If it wouldn’t be too much trouble. I have many talents but I’m not the greatest parker in the world.”
“So you’ve said.” He took her arm lightly though he might as well have shaken her such was her reaction. “Won’t be more than five minutes, James.”
“Take your time.” James was doing his level best to assess this surprising situation, but was content to let fate take its course.
“Are you really meeting anybody?” Royce McQuillan asked when they were out on the street.
“I wonder you doubt me.” If he hadn’t released her she would have had to pull away.
“I do.” He wondered what it would be like to kiss her mouth. Hard. Kiss the curve of her neck, the swell of her breast. Dangerous to have such thoughts about someone so young. Too young. He remembered James had told him all about his niece’s twenty-first birthday party. But hang on, that had to be a year or more ago. Time went so swiftly.
“Stay like that,” he ordered when they reached the footpath alongside the parked cars. “Just give me your keys.”
“You will be careful.” She couldn’t understand why she was trying to provoke him. She closed her eyes as their fingers touched.
He didn’t bother to answer. Instead he crammed himself into her tiny car, shot back the driver’s seat as far as it would go, then in a matter of moments had the car waiting, ready for her to get into it and drive away.
“How very nice of you,” she said, unable to get the cool satirical note out of her voice. She stood well back while he extricated himself from her car.
“A pleasure, Miss Russell. You quite interest me.”
“Surely I’m not important enough for that?” She slipped into the driver’s seat, aware she was being drawn into a dark whirlpool.
“I suspect not,” he gave a low laugh, “nevertheless you might tell me why a beautiful girl like yourself, a gifted performer, would want to hide herself away in the wilds. You have an aura of intense excitement swirling all around you yet you want to get away. You must have some idea what station life would be like? You’d be so isolated much of the time.”
“I know that.” Her eyes looked straight ahead.
“So what’s the reason?” His voice was like black velvet against her skin. “You’ve split with a boyfriend? You’ve changed your mind about your big career?”
Some things you couldn’t help. “My career is demolished, Mr. McQuillan,” she gritted, her voice harsh so she could keep it steady. “Thank you for helping me out. Of course if you hadn’t parked so close behind me you wouldn’t have had to worry.”
The whole attitude of his lean powerful body changed. “Look,” he said.
“No, you look.” She lifted a hand in farewell and drove off.
She could still see him in her rear-view mirror. He was standing in the middle of the quiet street looking after her. God! He probably thought she was mad. She didn’t have any appointment at the Conservatorium to keep. She couldn’t bear to go home. Glenda’s manner was so unpleasant these days. She’d thought to get rid of me but my accident changed that. It changed everything.
Tears sprang to Carrie’s eyes but she blinked them away furiously. No use crying. What’s done was done. Like Jamie said, she had to pick up the pieces and find strategies to propel her through life.
CHAPTER TWO
WHEN he returned to James’ office, Royce got straight to the point. “Your niece just shocked me by telling me her career is demolished. What on earth happened? You’ve never said anything.”
James found himself apologising. “Of course I should have. To be honest, Royce, I haven’t felt able to talk about it. Carrie has grieved. We’ve all grieved for almost a year. She was involved in a car crash the very afternoon she had word she’d secured a place at the Julliard Academy in New York. The accident wasn’t all that bad. A friend’s car and a taxi collided. Carrie broke a couple of ribs, suffered a few abrasions but the worst part was the little finger of her right hand was very badly broken. The orthopaedic man did a marvellous job. For most purposes it’s perfectly all right. She’s still a highly accomplished pianist but he warned us the finger won’t stand up to the rigours of a concert career. It will let her down, perhaps during a performance. I haven’t got words for how we feel. Carrie has changed in little telling ways. But she’s very brave. A fighter. In many ways she’s been fighting all her life.”
“You mean in terms of her relationship to her stepmother?” Royce asked perceptively.
James trusted this man so he gave an unhappy nod. “Like Carrie, my sister was so beautiful. Unforgettable really. When she died—a tragic accident, she fell and struck her head—Carrie was only three. Her father nearly went out of his mind. Jeff and I have never been close friends so I wasn’t able to help him as I could have had things been different. He started to drink pretty heavily. He hadn’t before and he doesn’t now, but out of his despair came a very quick second marriage. Glenda, his present wife, was his secretary. It appears she’d always been in love with him.”
“So she made things happen,” Royce said quietly.
“Yes.” James swallowed hard. “Melissa was born soon after. Carrie was never wanted by her stepmother. Her father adores her but he doesn’t understand her any more than he understood my sister. Glenda is always very careful when Jeff’s around but the relationship seen through my eyes and my wife’s has never been caring. Not affectionate. Certainly not loving. To compound it all Carrie was by far the brighter child in the family. As you’ll know from that photograph she was the prettiest little girl imaginable. She shone in the classroom. Right from the beginning she was brilliant at the piano, which I insisted she learn in remembrance of her mother who was a fine pianist, as was my mother. It runs in the family.”
“So the stepmother was not only jealous of her husband’s attention to his firstborn she was jealous and resentful of her capabilities,” Royce remarked.
“I’m afraid so. Carrie was always classed as a gifted child. Glenda saw the two girls in competition, which was sad for Melissa. Melissa had her mother’s views and attitudes forced on her. I think the two girls could have been good friends but Glenda didn’t want that. She wouldn’t permit it.”
“And Catrina’s father didn’t put a stop to this?” Royce asked almost curtly.
James shook his head. “Glenda is clever. Outwardly she’s as proud of Carrie and her achievements as ever Jeff is. Inwardly I think she struggles with her rage. She was thrilled at the thought of Carrie’s securing a place at the Julliard. That would have taken Carrie off her hands. Very very sadly it didn’t happen.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t know,” Royce said, like he bitterly regretted the fact.
“I think I would have told you at some point but you’ve had lots of problems of your own, Royce,” James answered in a conciliatory voice.
“Your niece is very unhappy.”
It couldn’t be denied. “She’s struggling to overcome it. She hasn’t touched the piano since the accident.”
“So what is she doing with herself?” Royce McQuillan asked outright. “Teaching? That would be very hard at this point.”
“Very. Her whole training has been geared to performance.”
“I don’t think she’s governess material,” Royce said. “Too many strong emotions workin
g through her. A trauma to battle down. I was looking for a quiet capable young woman who wouldn’t be discontented far away from boyfriends and the city life.”
“I agree. I don’t think Carrie is governess material, either, but she made it clear to me she wants to get right away from the world of music. For a time.”
“How long?” Royce asked in his direct manner.
‘Who would know?” There was deep concern in James’ voice. “I think Carrie feels all the pain and bitter disappointments like it was yesterday. She’s right about one thing. She’s great with children. Or she was until her world changed. She had such sparkle. Such vitality. Saddest to me is she’s lost a lot of her natural confidence.”
“Her accident has made her fearful?”
“Of certain things, yes,” James agreed. “Her father would never hear of her leaving home. She’s tried before but a large extent with her studies she’s been dependent on him. He wouldn’t thank me for interfering in any way. As I say, we don’t get on. But Carrie told me today she is determined on moving out.”
Royce didn’t give that another moment’s consideration. “It sounds like the obvious solution. Where will she go?” He narrowed his brilliant eyes.
“Wherever she wants to go. Liz and I will help her. Carrie is the love of our lives. She’s given us such joy. She’ll have a battle with her father, though. He’s a born controller.” James’ largely hidden antipathy came through.
“Except he lost control all those years ago.”
James nodded. “All that’s history. Almost any other young woman would have made a better mother for Carrie than Glenda. A better mother for Melissa in a way although Glenda dotes on her. They present a united front socially but it’s really a dysfunctional family.”
“Then it can’t be nice for Catrina to be around.”
In that moment Royce McQuillan made the decision to act.
Carrie spent another hour in town drifting through a department store, buying nothing. Nothing appealed. She was simply putting off the moment she had to return home. There was such a soul-destroying drawing up of sides; Glenda and Melissa; she and her father. Instead of taking any advantage from the situation Carrie had found it a real burden knowing her father enjoyed her company better than her sister’s. Not only that, he made no bones about showing it. His insensitivity had created many problems. She’d had the unenviable role of being the favourite. It had caused a lot of pain. On all sides.