by Emma Darcy
‘This one. Take a seat, Chloe.’ He busied himself opening the bag and removing a large jug of fruit juice while he talked. ‘Apparently Tony broke the story. Out of spite, I should think, after the removalists had left to transport your personal possessions here. He’d demanded what authority they had and they’d shown him the fax, giving this address.’
Maximilian Hart’s mansion at Vaucluse…it was a big step up from the apartment at Randwick, while Tony was out in the cold, fired from the script-writing team, and powerless to stop what was happening. Chloe could see him wanting to do something spiteful, yet how could he exonerate his own behaviour?
‘Lisa Cox telephoned me late yesterday afternoon to get confirmation of your presence on my property and my comment on it,’ Max went on. ‘She wanted to speak to you, as well, but I’d left you reasonably happy in the children’s house and didn’t think you’d want to be stirred up by nasty innuendos, so I told her you were unavailable.’
He poured the juice into two glasses and sat one in front of her, a flash of inquisitive appeal in his eyes. ‘I hope you don’t mind my running interference for you with Lisa.’
She shook her head. ‘I’m sure you handled the situation better than I would have.’
He shrugged and took the chair opposite hers, the expression in his eyes changing to a hard, ruthless gleam as he flatly stated, ‘I told her the truth.’ His mouth twisted cynically and his voice took on a mocking tone. ‘Tony had reported that you’d left him for me, omitting the salient facts like his infidelity and impregnating your personal assistant. I laid them out and apparently your mother has confirmed them, while hitting out at me for taking you away when you should be with her, being comforted as only a mother can comfort in such stressful circumstances. She made no mention of having her services as your agent terminated.’
Chloe grimaced at his summary of Tony’s and her mother’s spin on what had happened. ‘I’m sorry, Max. I did warn you there’d be a backlash to protecting me as you have.’
‘Makes me more determined to keep doing so.’ His eyes flashed intensity of purpose at her. ‘You need a complete break from them, Chloe. Best that you stay here the two months, avoid all aggravation. As I said, it’s no problem for me if you do, and it will hold you clear of them so you can work out your own future.’
He liked being in charge of a battle zone, Chloe thought. A born warrior. And she liked being protected by him. Probably too much. But she could learn how best to stand up for herself from him.
‘I’d better read the whole thing,’ she muttered, opening up the newspaper and lifting out the entertainment section.
The story was headlined Maximilian Hart’s Star Hit by Scandal. It held much more detail than Max had given; rantings from Tony about Max taking her over, using his power to alienate her from their marriage; her mother taking a similar stance, saying Max had inserted himself between mother and daughter with no regard for what was appropriate or what was in Chloe’s best interests. They more or less painted him as a ruthless manipulator, which wasn’t the truth at all.
Max had stated the truth-that she’d been deeply shocked and distressed by the disclosure at the launch party that her husband had been having an affair with her trusted personal assistant who was now pregnant to him, and she hadn’t wanted to go home to either her husband or her mother, so he’d offered her his guest house as a ready refuge where she was welcome to stay as long as she liked. The story ended, saying Chloe Rollins had not been available for comment.
‘You could sue them for slander over the things they’ve said about you,’ she murmured fretfully.
‘Irrelevant,’ he said carelessly, then shot her an ironic smile. ‘Much better not to give them a stage to star on. Let them fade into insignificance as the show moves on.’
Chloe returned some irony of her own. ‘You know what the most sickening part is? Both my mother and Tony talked me out of having a baby because starring in your show was more important.’
His gaze dropped from hers as he frowned over this new information.
‘I guess you wouldn’t have wanted me if I had been pregnant,’ she put to him, interpreting his frown as confirmation that her mother and Tony had been right about that.
He shook his head. ‘Nothing would have changed my determination to star you in that particular vehicle.’ His eyes targeted hers again with their riveting power. ‘If you had been pregnant, Chloe, I would have had the storyline altered to accommodate it.’
‘Really?’
His mouth twitched with amusement at her wide-eyed wonderment. ‘Really.’
‘Then they were wrong.’ It was weird how much satisfaction that gave her, as though it totally vindicated her current course of action. ‘Not that it matters,’ she added. ‘It would be a worse mess now if I had got pregnant, with Tony fooling around with Laura behind my back. And I bet my mother knew about it, too. Nothing escapes her eye.’
‘I’d say that was a fair assumption,’ Max dryly commented. ‘She showed no outrage or disgust over their behaviour when I confronted them at the hotel. Only anger over the boat being rocked.’
Anger…Chloe winced, having been belittled by it too many times. And she’d always hated the strident way her mother dealt with other people, even with the man sitting opposite her, making sure she saw and covered all the angles. It was an agent’s job, but the manner in which it was done…Chloe imagined Max had quite enjoyed severing the business connection with her mother. It was a huge relief to feel free of it herself.
She sipped her drink, noticing that Max seemed to have drifted into a private reverie, gazing out across the pool, his eyes narrowed as though he was thinking through a problem, assessing its effects, how to deal with it. After a few minutes, he turned to her with a curious, inquisitive look.
‘Tell me…you’re only twenty-seven, Chloe…are you desperate for a baby?’
She flushed, embarrassed at having babbled on about having one, knowing many women waited until their early thirties before starting a family. ‘Not desperate, no,’ she quickly denied, then with a rueful little shrug, confessed, ‘I just wanted to have something I knew was real in my life. My mother would twist things around. Tony did, too. But a baby…well, there’s nothing more honest about a baby, is there?’
‘Honest,’ he repeated musingly.
‘I’m glad it didn’t happen,’ she blurted out. ‘It would have chained me to Tony for the rest of my life.’
‘Yes. At least this way you can put him behind you.’
She grimaced. ‘Except for the divorce.’
‘That can all be done through lawyers,’ he said dismissively. ‘There’s no need for you to meet. I was just wondering if you had the urge to rush into bed with someone else and get yourself pregnant.’
It shocked her into a vehement denial. ‘I’m not that stupid, Max!’
He shook his head. ‘I don’t think you’re stupid, Chloe, but people often don’t react sensibly to a traumatic change in their lives.’
‘I have a big enough problem sorting out my own life,’ she insisted. ‘I wouldn’t add a baby to it.’
He smiled, satisfied that she was not about to run madly off the rails and ruin this chance to get herself straight on a lot of things. Yet she sensed something more in his satisfaction-something sharkish. A little quiver ran down her spine.
‘I’m hungry,’ he said. ‘It’s lunch-time.’
Chloe breathed a sigh of relief. The something sharkish had nothing to do with wanting a bite out of her.
He picked up a mobile phone, which had lain behind the tray. ‘I’ll call Edgar to bring it out here. Shall I say lunch for two? It won’t be any trouble to Elaine. I ordered salad and she always keeps enough provisions for an army.’
The invitation was irresistible. Despite the occasionally disturbing undercurrent of strong physical attraction she couldn’t quite ignore, she liked talking to him, liked hearing his view of her situation, liked the way it clarified things in her own mind
. She didn’t want to end this encounter by the pool. Besides, having eaten the scrumptious chicken casserole last night, the offer of another meal prepared by Elaine was an extra temptation.
‘Thank you. I’d like that.’
Max watched her smile, the sweet curve of her lips, the dimples appearing in her cheeks, the warm pleasure sparkling in her lovely blue eyes, and thought how artlessly beautiful she was. She wore no make-up. Her hair was drying in natural waves around her face-tighter than if she’d used a blow dryer. Her skin glowed, not a blemish on it anywhere.
He wanted to touch her, taste her, but now was not the time. He called Edgar and ordered lunch for two by the pool, knowing he had to keep this encounter a casual one, relaxing, enjoyable, trouble-free, building the case for her to stay the two months.
The baby issue had been a snag in his plans. It was a relief to have it dismissed. Though, for a few moments, that something special about Chloe had actually had him wondering how life would be if they filled the children’s house together. A brief flight of fancy. Not really feasible, given the jet-setting life he enjoyed, winning the challenges that added to his success in the battlefield he’d chosen.
They spent another two hours by the pool, sharing a leisurely lunch, chatting about the television business. He kept the conversation impersonal-safe-drawing Chloe out on how she saw and felt about the show, her part in it, her view of the other cast members and how they were dealing with their roles.
‘You know, Max, I don’t have a special gift for tapping into emotion on cue,’ she said at one point. ‘It’s not like some magic I was born with. When I get a part to play, I make up the whole life behind the character so I know everything about her in my mind, why she is doing or feeling the way she does in various situations. When I’m on camera, I am her. It’s real. I show it. That’s all.’
He respected the work she put into adopting a character, but she was wrong about not having a special gift. It was innate. The play of emotion was on her face all the time in her own life. He didn’t have to study her to read her feelings. They were mirrored in her expressions.
He’d first noticed her in a coming-of-age soap opera that had run for years. She outshone everyone else in the cast. He’d learnt that she’d been on television all her life-commercials featuring a baby, then a toddler, children’s shows, teenage shows. He kept her in mind, waiting to acquire a storyline that would showcase her special talent, and she certainly wasn’t disappointing him now that he had it.
By all accounts, her father had also been a very gifted actor. There were still people around who deplored his early death-suicide, in the grip of depression. He couldn’t imagine Stephanie doing anything to help him out of it, more like driving him into it with her self-serving demands.
He didn’t want Chloe falling into a depression, unable to put it aside to play her part in the show-a very solid reason for her to be here with him, out of her mother’s reach. She looked happy at the moment. Nevertheless, he couldn’t control her mood when she was alone.
An idea came to him. She’d wanted a baby. He’d give her a puppy or a kitten, something for her to look after and pet, another attraction for staying in the children’s house and it should lessen any loneliness she felt.
As it turned out, he didn’t need to add another attraction.
Edgar had been and gone with his tray-mobile, clearing the table and leaving them with coffee and a selection of Elaine’s petit fours. It more or less marked the end of lunch and Max knew he shouldn’t press Chloe into staying longer with him if she made a move to go. She finished her coffee and faced him with an air of decision.
‘I will stay the two months, Max.’
She said a lot more, expressing her gratitude for his offer, etc, etc, but he barely heard it, his mind buzzing with elation.
He’d won.
And he’d win all he wanted with Chloe Rollins before she left the children’s house.
She was his for the taking.
CHAPTER SIX
CHLOE was glad she had accepted Gerry Anderson’s services on Monday morning, glad that Max had instructed him to use the black Audi Quattro sedan with tinted windows for transporting her wherever she wanted to go. Paparazzi were camped outside the gates of the Vaucluse mansion. They were also at the entrance to the studios. Interest in the scandal was obviously running hot.
Once they were safely inside the grounds of the studio, she asked Gerry to stop the car and summon the security guard so she could speak to him. She rolled down her window as the man approached.
‘Miss Rollins?’ He tipped his cap to her.
She smiled. ‘Good morning. I just wanted you to know that my mother, Stephanie Rollins, is no longer my agent and I would not welcome her on the set.’
He nodded. ‘Mr Hart has already given instructions to that effect. Covers Mr Lipton and Miss Farrell, as well. Don’t be worrying they’ll be let in, Miss Rollins. They won’t.’
‘Thank you.’
‘No problem,’ he assured her with a friendly salute.
Max…one step ahead of her. He thought of everything. But at least she had acted decisively for herself this time and Chloe felt good about that. She was never going to allow anyone to make decisions for her again, or be talked into anything she didn’t want to do.
The whole day on the set felt better without her mother sitting in on everything, watching, criticising, coaching, fussing. No-one there was unaware of her situation, and at first the other cast members and the crew treated her with a kind of wary sympathy. Only after she had demonstrated that she was still on top of her role and determined to carry through every scene to be shot did they become more relaxed with her. Chloe felt her own confidence growing as she followed the director’s instructions without a hitch.
Sympathy gave way to curiosity. She wasn’t acting like a traumatised woman. Had she left her unfaithful husband and plunged into an affair with Maximilian Hart? No-one put it into words but Chloe read the speculation in their eyes. Oddly enough, she wasn’t embarrassed by it. While it wasn’t the truth, she sensed that people wouldn’t blame her for it if she had. In fact, during the break for lunch, there was envy in some of the women’s eyes when one guy brashly asked her if Max’s guest house matched his mansion.
‘It’s much smaller,’ she answered dryly, and her quelling look put an immediate stop to any further questions touching on her private life. She didn’t want to describe how special the children’s house was, nor reveal her decision to stay on there for two months. It was no-one else’s business but hers and Max’s.
However, she inadvertantly broke the confidentiality of their arrangement later that afternoon. After leaving the studios, she asked Gerry to drive her to her favourite greengrocer’s market at Kensington, wanting to stock up with fruit and vegetables and be relatively independent of Elaine’s provisions for the guest house. Gerry insisted on accompanying her into the market, saying the car had been followed, although not into the parking station, which allowed some room for doubt as to whether the pursuit had been coincidental or deliberate.
Coincidental, Chloe thought. The tinted windows of the car had frustrated the paparazzi this morning. Why waste their time following her again? Max was the better target and she wasn’t with him.
But it was deliberate.
Chloe had only been shopping for a few minutes when an all too familiar voice cracked at her like a whip with stinging force.
‘It’s a shameful state of affairs when a mother is reduced to chasing a car to make contact with her daughter!’
The lettuce she’d been holding spilled from her hand. Her heart jumped and so did the rest of her body as she spun to face the oncoming attack. Her mother was livid with anger, her steel-blue eyes shooting furious arrows of accusation, her hands already lifting like talons to grab Chloe’s shoulders and shake her. The old instinct to cringe swept through her but this time Chloe fought it. She was not a child to be shaken into submission and her mother did not own her
anymore. Her spine stiffened and she stood her ground, although her stomach cramped and her legs started to tremble.
Gerry Anderson stepped between them and her chest almost caved in with relief at being shielded by him.
‘Get out of the way! She’s my daughter!’ her mother hissed, grabbing his arm, trying to pull him aside.
‘Miss Rollins?’ Gerry was looking to her for direction.
He would strong-arm her mother away and swiftly escort her out of here if she gave the word. The temptation to flee quivered through her mind, but she’d been weak for far too long, letting her mother run her life. Running away from her now meant she still had power over her, would always have power over her. It had to stop if she was ever to forge an independent life.
She shook her head. ‘I’ll talk to her but stay near, Gerry.’ She turned to her mother, eyes flashing determination. ‘If you create any more of a scene, my bodyguard will step in and we’ll go. Is that clear, Mother?’
‘Your bodyguard,’ she savagely mocked as Gerry stepped aside for the two women to face each other. ‘Max Hart’s, you mean. He’s taking you over, lock, stock and barrel and you’re too blindly naive to see it.’
‘He is simply protecting me from the kind of harassment you’re dealing out right now.’
‘And why is he doing it, Chloe? Have you asked yourself that?’
‘I don’t care why. I’m out of the mess of my marriage, which you hid from me so I’d keep on working and bringing in the money. I’m not so blindly naive that I can’t see that, Mother.’
‘You’ve been working today to bring in the money for Max Hart.’
‘He didn’t deceive me.’
‘It was for your own good,’ she snapped defensively. ‘The affair would have blown over without any pain for you if Laura hadn’t got herself pregnant.’
‘I don’t like your judgement of what is good for me. I’m not going to take it anymore.’
‘You need me, Chloe,’ she bored in. ‘You’ll be lost without me. I’ve handled everything for you for so long…’