Tiger's Eye

by Madeleine Ker

  ‘We’re not nice, caring do-gooders like you.’ He smiled. ‘We’re hard and selfish, out for number one and we like getting our own way in everything.’

  ‘That’s a good description of you,’ Katherine retorted, ‘but I’m sure Leila’s not like that at all.’ She turned to Leila. ‘Whatever I said that was so offensive, I’m sorry, Leila. I suppose you’ve had a harder life than most people?’

  ‘Well, I don’t know what other people’s lives are like,’ she said with an awkward little laugh. ‘Mine was hard in some places, easier in others. I certainly prefer being grown-up. I was bored a lot as a child, and since I started with the agency my life has been a lot more interesting.’

  ‘You must be very good to work for Clarewell’s,’

  Katherine said. ‘It’s the very best agency there is. So your intellect obviously hasn’t suffered:’

  ‘One thing about being on your own is that you learn to rely on yourself at a very early age,’ Leila said. ‘I have a capacity for hard work, that’s all.’ She was acutely aware of Blaize’s attention fixed on her as she spoke.

  ‘And there’s something in what Mr. Oliver said just now. I haven’t made such an amazing success of my life as he has but I am harder than ordinary people. I recognize that, and it’s not a very nice quality. However, it can be a useful one.’ She twisted the glass in her hands.

  ‘And you didn’t offend me when you said I should go and find my mother. It’s just not that easy. There’s a question of privacy, you see. However deeply my mother suffered when she left me, she had powerful reasons for doing that, and I feel in my heart that they were the sort of reasons that don’t go away with the years.

  ‘You don’t know that.’

  ‘No, I don’t. I don’t know anything, and it’s possibly best that way. Just for one thing, she could well be married to another man by now―someone who knows nothing about me, or my mother’s past. If I were to turn up out of the blue, claiming to be her long-lost daughter…’

  ‘Yes, I see,’ Katherine said slowly. ‘But supposing she isn’t?’

  ‘And supposing,’ Blaize put in, ‘she’s the sort of woman that Leila wouldn’t want as a mother.'

  ‘I don’t understand you two,’ Katherine sighed, shaking her head. ‘Blaize, did you never try to trace your parents?’ ., .

  ‘I once made some efforts in that direction, he said casually. ‘I got as far as finding out why they’d abandoned me, at any rate.’

  ‘Oh, Blaize!’ Katherine was excited. ‘What was the reason?’

  ‘Nothing very original or very cheerful.’ He shrugged, deflecting the topic with easy charm. ‘But we were talking about Leila. Were you fostered?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said, answering the direct question with an effort. ‘When they could find families prepared to have me, I was fostered. Otherwise I stayed at special schools.’

  ‘That sounds horrible,’ Katherine murmured compassionately.

  ‘It was all right. When I was seventeen, I joined a secretarial college on a grant, and the local authority started feeling I was safe enough to let go. They kept track of me for a while, until I was self-supporting. They did a good job, and I never felt any resentment towards them, only gratitude.’

  ‘And then?’ Blaize prompted.

  ‘After that I worked in Nottingham for two years, and then moved to London. After a year with another firm, I joined Carol Clarewell, and…’ She shrugged. ‘Here I am.’

  Blaize toasted her with his glass. ‘Not bad. Given your achievement, I’m glad you think my life is such an amazing success,’ he said, with more than a touch of self-mockery in his voice.

  ‘Oh, but it is,’ Katherine exclaimed loyally. ‘Blaize has carved himself an empire out of nothing,’ she told Leila. ‘He was wheeling and dealing in his teens, and by the age of twenty he was on his way to being a stock-market millionaire. He owns over thirty companies, and nobody even knows how rich he is now!’

  ‘That’s success in a very limited form,’ Blaize said lazily, watching Leila with shadowy green eyes.

  ‘Making money and buying companies is so easy, it’s banal. I get the feeling that Leila has got something in her twenties that I’m still looking for at thirty-eight.’

  ‘I can’t think what,’ Katherine said tartly. ‘With all due respect to Leila, she’s hardly in your position!’

  ‘And I’m hardly in hers,’ Blaize replied. ‘Maybe Leila hasn’t made a mountain of money, but then she doesn’t have a mountain of problems. And she hasn’t made a mountain of mistakes, either.’

  ‘You talk like someone who isn’t happy with the way his life has gone,’ Katherine scoffed.

  ‘Sometimes I wonder whether I am.’ Blaize shrugged, draining his glass.

  The pulsing beat of an Elton John record filled the warmth of the night. Rick Watermeyer had put the music centre on, and was dancing cheek to cheek with Lucy, the governess.

  ‘To hell with it,’ Blaize smiled, reaching for Katherine’s hand. ‘To hell with everyone. Let’s you and I dance.’

  Katherine’s clear laugh floated back to Leila as she rose to her long legs and drifted into his arms. Leila watched them dance to the sweet tune. Though Katherine was careful to distance herself from Blaize when they talked, when they danced she gave herself to him utterly.

  Her soft breasts were pressed against him, her hips moving as close as a shadow to his, and her upturned face laughed up at him, her long brown hair streaming down her back.

  Neither of them gave Leila a glance. Leila felt the claws of pain unfold in her heart as the old demon, loneliness, awoke in her. Why wasn’t it her up there, dancing with Blaize?

  Then a crooked smile tugged at her mouth. What? she asked herself bitterly. Had she really imagined there was something between them tonight? Just because it turned out they were both brought up in care?

  Think again! Blaize Oliver had risen from humble origins to carve himself an empire―an empire in which Leila was a very small pawn.

  His whole career had been mapped out for wealth and stability, right down to the elegant Katherine, who was undoubtedly soon to be his second wife. So what could he ever want with Leila, who came from the kind of background he had been escaping from all his life?

  Only the satisfaction of another quick conquest. Nothing more.

  She wasn’t in the same league as Katherine Henessey.

  She wasn't even a guest here; she was a temporary member of the staff. Anything else was a fantasy she Just couldn’t afford to indulge in. Men like Blaize didn’t dance with the staff. They might tumble them into bed for an hour of knee-trembling fun, if they felt the inclination, but it didn’t go further than that.

  A servant had materialised at her side, offering another drink. Leila nodded her thanks and took it. She lay back in the chair, and stared up at the stars.

  The big house loomed comfortingly behind them windows glowing like jewels. She thought about what she’d learned tonight. So Blaize had started with nothing, after all: She knew that Katherine hadn’t exaggerated about his wealth. In the past two days of taking calls and handling his correspondence, she’d gained a glimpse of real success. A conglomeration of companies, some welded into corporations with their own subsidiaries others out on a limb in isolated sectors, all having the common denominator that one man, Blaize Oliver, owned them and controlled them.

  What on earth could he possibly have meant by saying that she had something he didn’t? She had nothing, and he had it all. Looks, charisma, success, happiness.

  She looked across at Blaize. He was holding Katherine close, his mouth next to her ear, murmuring something tenderly. Yes, Blaize was something special. Something very special indeed.

  I hope you can keep him, she told Katherine silently, watching their embrace turn into a kiss. I hope you mean the love you show his children.

  CHAPTER THREE

  As USUAL, the next afternoon was spent by the poolside, working through the ‘essential maintenance’ letters an
d calls that had to be done, even during Blaize’s holiday.

  Leila was starting to sense, rather than actually see, a certain bitterness in Blaize towards the responsibilities dictated by his success. A bitterness that had a great deal to do with the way business interfered with his family life.

  Despite what Tracey had told her, there was evidently a strong bond between Blaize Oliver and both of his children. Whatever his morals about other women, he was certainly not an indifferent father, and there was no doubt that he resented anything coming between him and his kids―even the process of making money. But he was also a strict father―almost too strict, in Leila’s view.

  He insisted on both Terry and Tracey keeping up with their schoolwork, and, as she had already seen, he certainly did not believe in spoiling them with money.

  When Tracey came down to the pools side to ask for three thousand pesetas, about fifteen pounds, in order to buy a new pair of sun-glasses, she was sent away with a flea in her ear.

  ‘She’s got two pairs of sun-glasses already,’ Blaize grumbled to Leila as Tracey went disconsolately back to the house. ‘What is she, a movie star?’

  ‘Fashion means a lot to young girls.’ Leila smiled.

  ‘And money evidently means nothing.’

  ‘You’re rather hard on her,’ Leila said gently. ‘It’s not easy for either of them without…’

  ‘Without their mother?’ Blaize supplied as she hesitated.

  ‘Maybe. But you and I survived without either a mother or a father.’

  She dropped her eyes. ‘If I were ever to have children I don’t think I’d want them to grow up like me.’

  Blaize turned sharply, so that he could look into her eyes. ‘Why? What’s wrong with you?’

  ‘I didn’t say there was anything wrong with me ‘ she replied, tingling at his intense gaze. ‘But just because I had a hard childhood, it doesn’t mean that my kids should have to go through that, too!’

  ‘Tracey and Terry have everything,’ he rasped, getting up. ‘They’ve got a damned sight too much, in fact.’

  Leila thought of the taut, painted nymphet who’d met her at the airport. If he only knew! ‘Have they?’

  ' "Have they?" ' he mimicked cruelly. ‘What are you looking so knowing about, Miss Thomas? Are you a child psychologist, in addition to all your other accomplishments? '

  ‘No, of course not.’

  ‘Then why the face?’

  ‘I'm not making any faces,’ she said formally. ‘Your family life is none of my business whatsoever, Mr. Oliver. I m sorry I said anything, Do you want me to finish this letter?’

  ‘Yes. I’m taking a quick swim.’ She just caught a glimpse of a muscular back as he dived cleanly into the water. As she watched, he slipped into that easy, cruising beat across the pool, powerful arms swinging in a rhythm of power.

  Leila shrugged mentally. What had made her pass any comment about his family? She’d deserved that snub. You Just bite your tongue in future, she told herself firmly.

  She finished the letter off while he swam and was waiting patiently as he pulled himself out of the pool again, dripping.

  She could not help her eyes from widening to take in the hard: mature body, with its perfect, athletic lines, now glistening with water from his swim. It was the body of a hunter, quintessentially male, lithe and muscular.

  The black swimming-trunks emphasised, rather than concealed, his masculinity. He had superb thighs, hard and lean, and a stomach that was rippled with strength.

  ‘What are you staring at?’ he enquired, reaching for the towel.

  ‘N-nothing,’ Leila stammered, her face suddenly hot.

  He looked amused. ‘Nothing? That isn’t very flattering.’

  He sat down beside her, green eyes dancing with mockery. ‘Next letter. This one’s to Daniel Matthews, Chairman of Matthews Industries, in Seattle. Ready?’

  ‘I’m ready,’ Leila said, blessedly relieved to be getting down to some work.

  ‘Dear Dan,’ he started, speaking slowly and easily. ‘It was good to see you in Paris last weekend. I enjoyed feeling like a twenty-year-old again. I’ve been thinking over your suggestion of a merger between your Consolidated Paper Group and my AGP Stationers, and I find the idea has distinct potential.’ He inspected the contents of the vacuum-pot. ‘Want a cup of coffee, Leila?’

  ‘I’m fine, thank you.’

  ‘OK. It is a possibility which I myself have considered more than once during the recent period of intense economic activity in this particular sector. I’m sending you the relevant trading figures, as I agreed to do, and I’m sure I don’t have to remind you again how confidential they are.’

  He paused, watching her thoughtfully as he gathered his thoughts. Then he rose, and moved casually round the back of Leila’s chair. ‘This sun is going to burn your beautiful white skin. Better get some sun-tan lotion on before you blister.’

  She started as she felt the drip of oil on her shoulders and felt powerful, gentle hands start to spread the lotion . across her back.

  ‘Given the relative prominence of the parent companies, any information of this kind has high market value,’ he went on, before she had a moment to protest.

  ‘I am sending you this material as an act of faith, and I expect the contents to remain at the highest executive level.’

  She was tight with reaction as the massaging fingers spread around her neck, their caress exploding her much-vaunted concentration to the point where her pencil had started to shake.

  ‘Mr. Oliver—’ she began, but he cut through as though she hadn’t spoken.

  ‘The prospect of a merger like this is always interesting. Correction. Make that very interesting.’ Her pencil scratched the addition, then hovered over the paper as if it had a life of Its own. More oil trickled on to her skin, and the expert hands smoothed it around her throat, and over the delicate arch of her collarbone, here .a pulse was now thudding unsteadily. ‘Very interesting. The potential for mutual benefit is extremely high, especially as Our two subsidiaries seem so well-suited to a union. Of course,’ he said, his voice touched with huskiness as his palms smoothed the initial swell of her breasts, ‘there must be a certain introductory period of mutual acquaintance. We have to exchange information at the fullest level, to optimise our later relationship.’

  Leila as trembling now, her nerve-endings quivering under his touch. And, hot as the sun was it was not responsible for the prickle of perspiration that she could eel crawling across her skin. It was practically impossible to keep writing. Why in heaven’s name wasn’t she doing anything to stop this invasion of her sensitivity?

  She seemed to be hypnotised by his presence and his touch her will fatally weak. .

  Blaize Oliver moved round to sit beside her again, a symphony of tanned muscle. The green eyes contained something other than amusement now, something darker and more disturbing, as his fingers traced a smooth path from the pulsing base of her throat to the valley between her breasts, caressing in gentle, circular movements.

  ‘I feel certain,’ he said softly, staring into her eyes, ‘that such an exchange of information can only be beneficial. Trust is essential if we are both to get the most from a merger, and there should be no holding back in any area. Got that?’

  ‘Yes, but I’d rather—’

  ‘What I am talking about,’ she heard his voice go on softly ‘is contact at the fullest level, with no reserve of any kind. If we both contract ourselves to full honesty with the other, I feel sure that this could e the most exciting combination of resources we are likely to see this year, and possibly for many years to come.

  His hands were moulding the delicate muscles at the side of her neck, his touch possessive and desirous. 'I know you will appreciate my frankness when I say that I am eager, more than eager, to get the categories in question into an opening approach phase Without delay.

  He leaned close to her, as if to check her notes, so close that she could smell his warm, male skin, then st
udied her mouth with intense green eyes.

  ‘I am working on the assumption, of course, hat your division shares your feelings on this matter entirely, and that there will be no opposition at senior managerial. or any other level.’

  His hands were at the back of her neck, drawing her to him. She felt his mouth close over hers.

  Her own hands had found his shoulders unbidden, their delicate touch exploring his hot, smooth skin. She d wondered what that mouth would feel like; It felt unashamedly delicious, conquering her with skilled smoothness, his tongue tracing the line of her lips in an agonisingly slow prelude to invasion.