Mr Loverman

by Mary Lyons

  Apart from Christmas, it was the main time of year for both film premieres and charity functions. And since Jack, as head of a successful theatrical agency, frequently attended such shindigs it wasn’t surprising that he’d attracted the attention of press photographers. Especially when he had the delectable, amazingly curvaceous Miss Green on his arm.

  Not that she gave a hoot one way or another, Laura told herself firmly. In any case, there would have been no point in her going to such functions, since she was still in the process of working hard to establish her agency. In fact, most of her time was spent either at Agent Show evenings put on by the various drama schools hoping to attract agents for their young actors, or taking casting directors to view fringe plays in which some of her new clients were displaying their talents.

  It was hard, tiring but also rewarding work. Because she was gradually building up a really solid list of good actors who, over the next ten years or so, would start to hit the big time.

  Unfortunately, knowing that she was making all the right moves businesswise was of little comfort as she tossed and turned in her lonely bed night after night. Because, if she was really honest, Laura knew that she’d have given everything she possessed for a chance to take the place of the ravishingly beautiful Felicity Green in Jack’s arms. Everyone in the theatrical business, of course, seemed to be gossiping about the clearly obvious, torrid love affair between Jack and his new assistant. And you couldn’t blame them, Laura thought miserably. Not when they made such a spectacularly attractive couple.

  Cut it out! That sort of thinking isn’t going to do you any good at all, she told herself sternly as the taxi came to a halt outside her office building. Paying off the cab, and taking one last gulp of fresh air, she made her way across the foyer towards the bank of lifts.

  ‘Come on!’ she muttered under her breath, repeatedly punching the various buttons. But all to no avail. ‘I’m fed up to the back teeth with these grotty lifts!’ she yelled out loud, suddenly losing her temper and thumping her fist on the stainless-steel doors, which obstinately refused to open. ‘If somebody doesn’t do something about them, I’ll... I’ll...’

  ‘Do what? Use a tin-opener?’ an amused voice drawled sardonically from behind her rigidly angry figure.

  ‘Ha-ha! Very funny!’ she snapped, spinning around to glare up into Jack’s eyes, which were gleaming with unconcealed mockery. ‘If you’re so damned clever why don’t you try and get one of these beastly things to work?’ she demanded, her fury increasing as she noticed his broad shoulders shaking with laughter.

  And, of course, it was absolutely sickening to see the doors immediately fly open just as soon as he stepped forward to press the button. It was just one more reason to hate this man, Laura told herself furiously, not caring that she was being totally illogical and unreasonable in blaming Jack for the malfunction of the lifts. Studiously avoiding looking at him, she stared blindly down at the carpet as he joined her inside the small square steel cage.

  Determined not to say anything for the few, short seconds she was forced to spend in his company, Laura was horrified when, after their initial upward ‘whoosh’, the lift came to a sudden grinding and shuddering halt.

  ‘Oh, my God—we’re stuck!’ she cried, her voice echoing eerily around the confined space. ‘For goodness’ sake, Jack—do something!’

  ‘Relax—there’s no need to panic,’ he murmured, opening a small square box beneath the controls and lifting out a phone. ‘It happened to me twice last week,’ he added, rapidly dialling a number. ‘It’s just a matter of keeping calm until help arrives.’

  ‘I don’t feel calm!’ she gasped breathlessly, suddenly feeling as though the walls of the small space were somehow shrinking in towards her.

  ‘Laura? Are you all right?’

  Jack’s voice seemed to be coming from a long way away. She could feel her head swimming and her legs becoming weak, as though they were going to collapse at any moment.

  ‘It’s OK, sweetheart. I’m here. You’re going to be all right,’ he said, moving quickly towards the girl slumped in the corner of the lift, who was gazing at him with blind, terrified green eyes, her face as white as a sheet. Clasping her quivering figure in his arms, he continued talking softly, rocking her gently back and forth as he would have comforted a frightened child.

  ‘I’m so sorry...’ she muttered helplessly, deeply thankful for the extraordinary feeling of warmth and safety engendered by the hard, strong arms about her trembling body. ‘I don’t know what’s come over me... I don’t usually...I mean, I’ve never had this sort of weird feeling before, and I really...’

  ‘It’s all right, sweetheart,’ he told her quietly. ‘I expect you’re just suffering from a touch of claustrophobia, that’s all.’

  ‘But why...why can’t the people who own this office block get their act together? Surely there must be a way to get these lifts working properly?’ she moaned, burying her head in the curve of his shoulder, savouring the musky aroma of his cologne and desperately wishing that she could remain within the safety of his arms for ever.

  ‘If you want action, maybe you’d better have a word with your friend Donald Hunt,’ Jack murmured, grinning sardonically down at the girl in his arms, whose trembling figure had suddenly become stiff and rigid with alarm.

  ‘D-Donald Hunt...?’ she stuttered in a muffled voice, struggling to try and pull herself together. However, as she slowly raised her head and caught a glimpse of the unmistakably ironic, wry gleam in Jack’s hooded grey eyes, Laura realised, with a sinking heart, that there was no point in trying to deceive him.

  ‘You know about Donald...?’ she breathed, completely forgetting the currently dangerous state of the lift as she waited helplessly for the expected storm to break over her confused and weary head.

  However, she was surprised when Jack merely gave a low rumble of laughter. ‘It was obvious you couldn’t afford to set up an agency on your own. So it didn’t take me very long to work out exactly who must be backing your new firm.’

  ‘And...and you don’t mind...?’

  ‘Well, I wasn’t exactly thrilled to discover that you were involved with my ex-partner,’ Jack drawled sardonically. ‘Nor to hear that he’s virtually a fixture in your office. In fact, I’m told that Donald calls by practically every evening—no doubt to take you to dinner and nightclubs in his glamorous Rolls-Royce!’ Jack added caustically.

  ‘What?’ Laura frowned, not having a clue what he was talking about. However, by the time she realised that he had obviously got his wires crossed, and didn’t realise that it was Susie whom Donald was taking out practically every night, Jack had changed the subject.

  ‘Although he’s a very astute businessman, of course. So if Donald’s backing you, then he must be quite confident that you’re capable of being a success.’

  ‘But I thought that you...that you and he...?’

  Jack shook his dark head. ‘Melissa and I both knew, within a few weeks of our marriage, that it had all been a ghastly mistake. I thought I was getting a wife—while she...’ He hesitated for a moment, before giving a heavy sigh. ‘Well, let’s just say that Melissa was looking for a bigger step up the theatrical ladder than I could offer her at the time.

  ‘Time is a great healer of problems, of course, and Melissa and I are now good friends. However, I obviously had to dissolve the partnership between Donald and myself—I could hardly, after all, keep on working closely with my wife’s lover! But, in all fairness, I’ve never held him entirely to blame for what happened. Believe me, when Melissa really wants someone, or something, she’s virtually unstoppable!’ he added wryly as the lift gave another sudden lurch.

  ‘Help!’ she shrieked, closing her eyes and hanging onto Jack for dear life.

  ‘Keep calm,’ he told her firmly, his arms tightening about her once more. ‘They’ve obviously got men working on the mechanism, and it won’t be long before we’re out of here. So what we must do is try and stop ourselves from thi
nking too much about the problem.’

  Laura shuddered, ashamed of being so weak and feeble but now quite unable to think about anything—other than the fact that the lift might, any minute now, send them crashing down, out of control, towards the dark void far below.

  ‘And he bent my ear about your new project.’

  ‘What?’ she muttered as Jack’s strong, deep voice cut through the swirling mist of terror in her brain.

  ‘I was just saying that I had Bill Chapman on the phone yesterday, belly-aching about your new voice-over business. That was a very bright idea, Laura. How’s it going?’

  ‘It...er...it’s actually doing very well,’ she murmured, relieved to find that when she shifted her weight slightly the lift remained rock-steady. ‘As I told Susie the other day, it’s no good Bill complaining that I’ve been pinching his business, because he’s only got himself to blame,’ she added in a stronger voice. ‘That guy is so busy drinking his profits, he couldn’t even run twenty yards—let alone a decent agency!’

  Smiling down at the indignant figure in his arms, Jack was just congratulating himself on having successfully diverted Laura’s mind from the danger they faced when he found himself wondering if it had been such a good idea after all.

  ‘I’m glad you think it was a good idea,’ she was saying, ‘because I named my new business after you.’

  ‘What?’ His dark brows drawing quickly together in a deep frown, he gazed sternly down into her green eyes. ‘Now just a minute!’ he grated angrily. ‘I’ve put up with about as much as I can stand from you, Laura. And if you think that I’m prepared to—’

  ‘I was only joking,’ she told him hurriedly. ‘It was more an association of ideas—if you see what I mean.’

  ‘No, I don’t!’ he growled. ‘There’s no way I’ll allow you to use the name of my firm. Absolutely no way!’

  ‘Hey—relax!’ she protested. ‘There’s no need to go off the deep end. My new business has got nothing to do with either your name or your firm. In fact, I decided to call the new business Sweet-Talk, because it’s both a pun on voice-overs and because sweet-talk is what I’ve mostly had from you—you foul man!’

  There were both surprised when, after staring down at her blankly for a moment, Jack found himself giving a reluctant bark of laughter.

  ‘You are, without doubt, the most impossible female I’ve ever had the misfortune to meet!’ he told her sternly, despite the fact that his hooded grey eyes were gleaming with amusement. ‘Which reminds me,’ he added blandly. ‘I thought you’d like to know that Craig Jordan has signed a new contract with me.’

  ‘I’m not surprised,’ Laura shrugged.

  ‘But you did try to get him to join your new agency, didn’t you?’

  She hesitated for some moments. ‘Well, yes, you’re right-I did,’ she admitted at last. ‘I never had any real hope that he’d sign up with me, of course. But I reckoned it was worth a try.’

  ‘It certainly would have been—if you’d managed to pull it off,’ he agreed grimly. ‘However, don’t ever again make the mistake of trying to poach one of my major clients. Because if you do I’ll come down on you like a ton of bricks. I’m not kidding, Laura,’ he added, his voice heavy with menace. ‘I’ve got a lot of clout in the theatrical business, and I can promise to make you wish that you’d never been born!’

  ‘OK, OK...I’ve got the message,’ she muttered, her cheeks flaming as she stared fixedly down at the blue and red pattern on his tie. ‘What’s Craig doing at the moment?’ she asked, more to break the strained silence than because of any real desire to know more about the difficult and neurotic film star.

  ‘Nothing particularly exciting.’ Jack shrugged. ‘Although we’ve one or two things in the pipeline, of course.’

  After wrestling with her conscience—which was telling her in a loud, incessant voice that Jack really had been remarkably tolerant and forgiving over her attempt to steal one of his major clients—Laura knew that she really did owe him a favour.

  ‘I...er...I think I might have a useful contact for you,’ she said, and explained about the film deal she’d been hoping to put together. ‘I hate to say it, but there’s no doubt that Craig would be absolutely perfect for the role of Macbeth.’

  ‘You’re right—he would!’ Jack grinned.

  ‘So why don’t you put him forward for the part? If it’s any help, I can easily set up a meeting with the producer—and you can take it from there.’

  ‘Well, it sounds all right,’ he murmured, his voice heavy with doubt. ‘But, since you’re putting this idea forward, I find myself wondering just what’s the catch.’

  ‘There’s no damn catch! Can’t I at least do something right once in a while?’ she cried, quickly twisting herself from his loose embrace and turning her back on the hateful man as she leaned her hot forehead against the cool, shiny steel wall of the lift.

  ‘Oh, sweetheart—I’m sorry,’ he murmured, staring at the girl’s dejected figure, only a foot or so away from his own.

  ‘I’m fed up with this continual sniping at one another,’ she muttered tearfully. ‘I wish to goodness that I’d never had the idea of starting my own agency.’

  ‘I wish you hadn’t as well!’ he agreed with a low rumble of laughter, taking a step forward and slipping his hands around her waist. ‘But that’s just sour grapes on my part. Because there’s no doubt that everyone is talking about Laura Parker’s successful new agency!’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Mmm...really,’ he murmured, pulling her slowly back against his hard body.

  ‘No, Jack—please! Don’t do this to me,’ she protested huskily as he lowered his head to press a kiss on the long, slim line of her neck.

  But she was so hungry for his touch that she couldn’t prevent herself from involuntarily shivering with excitement as his hands began moving over her soft curves, before slowly undoing the buttons of her sleeveless dark blue dress; nor could she prevent a trembling response to his sharp intake of breath as he discovered that, due to the heat, she wasn’t wearing a bra.

  ‘You’re so lovely,’ he muttered thickly, swiftly opening her dress to the waist and allowing his hands to roam freely as he savoured the pleasure of her taut, firm breasts, his fingers brushing over their hard, swollen peaks—an intimate touch which produced an instantaneous, deep clenching of the muscles in her stomach, and caused her to groan with passion and desire.

  It was as if her helpless moans, echoing around the confined space, acted as a trigger for his own emotional response. Quickly spinning her around, he roughly crushed her soft, yielding body in a fierce embrace. Lowering his dark head, he possessed her lips in a kiss of scorching intensity, the urgent thrust of his tongue driving her almost wild with desire.

  While one part of her mind was utterly appalled that she could be behaving in such a totally abandoned, wanton manner, the other seemed completely deaf to anything other than the wild clamour of sensual excitement swirling erotically through her veins. There was nothing she wanted more in the whole, wide world than to feel this man’s hard, aroused body pressed tightly to her own; to revel in the knowledge of the sheer naked lust and passion which always seemed to be sparked into a raging fire whenever they were alone together.

  Laura never knew whether she would have become completely lost to all sense, and allowed herself to succumb to his increasingly urgent lovemaking. Because, before they reached the point of no return, they became aware of the shiny steel box being jerkily lifted upwards.

  Their ears filled with muffled cries of encouragement and promises of their early release, Laura and Jack stared at each other in horror, then quickly and hurriedly adjusted their clothing.

  ‘Don’t worry, sweetheart,’ he murmured, swiftly brushing aside her nervously shaking fingers and pressing a warm kiss on the deep valley between her breasts, before quickly doing up the buttons of her dress. ‘I’ll make sure that I cause a terrific fuss and rumpus, which will give you time to slink quietly a
way to your office.’

  ‘Slink away’ just about summed up the whole story of their relationship, she told herself wearily, suddenly feeling cold and miserably unhappy at the thought of just how easily—and how stupidly—she’d once more been betrayed by her feelings for this man.

  Closing her eyes, Laura leaned back against the steel wall, vowing never to let herself get into such a position ever again. Because she most definitely was not one of those people who either enjoyed or got their kicks from making love in strange and public places. Neither was she someone who would enjoy living the unhappy, ultimately frustrating secret life of a kept mistress.

  As the men outside were busy trying to crowbar open the lift door, Laura realised that there was nothing she could do to stop herself from loving this impossible man. But, if she was forced to tell the truth, she’d have to admit that she wanted all those supposedly boring, mundane things—such as marrying Jack, and creating a warm, loving home in which to bring up their children.

  Unfortunately, it was clear that a happily married life was not one of Jack’s aims or ambitions. So it wasn’t too difficult to draw the obvious conclusion that the sooner she cut him ruthlessly away from her life and refused to have anything more to do with him the better.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  LAURA put down the script for a TV comedy series and turned to gaze out of the train window. There was no way she’d put forward any of her clients for the new series. It was really awful—almost as dull and boring as the weather, she told herself glumly, hardly able to view the passing scenery for the torrential rain pelting down from a grey, leaden sky

  Following the long heatwave, when everyone in Britain had become heartily tired of the sun blazing down day after day, their prayers for release had finally been answered by a violent thunderstorm. Unfortunately, the welcome break had only led to dreary weeks of seemingly never-ending, continuous rain. And, whereas only a month ago the Press had been full of tales of severe drought, and the need to carefully ration water supplies, newspapers now carried reports of coastal erosion, rivers flooding their banks, and occasional grim references to Noah and his Ark.