The Threat of Love

by Charlotte Lamb

  'I have too much work to do,' she told Amy. 'Sorry, but I can't spare the time for shopping, or lunch.'

  'Oh, poor you,' said Amy without so much as looking in her direction. 'That's all she cares about, you know, work,' she told Gil, who grinned.

  'I've noticed. A positive workaholic. Do you think she gets it from her father?'

  'Do you mind not talking about me?' Caro crossly asked them, but neither took any notice.

  'Oh, he's so sweet, darling Fred! But he is obsessed with work, and Caro's always been the same.'

  'Don't tell me she's actually going to this party, too?'

  Amy nodded. 'Of course she is! Everyone's going to be there, having great fun. It's the place to be tonight.'

  'Then why aren't I invited?' His dark eyes teased and Amy gave one of her breathless little laughs.

  'Will you come, if I invite you?'

  'Nothing would keep me away! I can't wait to see what Caro is like when she's having fun.' His tone was drily incredulous; he was staring at Caro, his brows curved in mockery, and she wanted to hit him.

  Looking away, she stared fixedly at Amy, trying to get over to her that she did not want Gil at this party, but although Amy met her eyes, and understood the silent message, she quickly looked away and went ahead, which was utterly typical of her. Amy might look sweetly yielding, but she always insisted on her own way.

  'Great!' she merely said to Gil. 'You're invited, then. Eight o'clock tonight. The address is Flat 3, Park View Apartments, Windermere Street, St John's Wood.'

  She watched Gil write all that down in his address book, and explained how he would get there from his own home in Regents Park. 'You won't have any problem finding it. It's the newest building in the street.'

  'You're giving this party?' Gil enquired. 'No,' Caro stiffly said. 'She isn't, and I don't think she should hand out invitations to someone else's party.'

  'Oh, don't be so dreary, darling,' Amy said, very pink and excited. She knew Caro was furious and was avoiding her stare now, but she didn't care because she was in the all too familiar process of falling for Gil. Caro knew all the signs. She ought to! Amy had been in and out of love ever since Caro met her.

  'A friend is,' Amy said, not mentioning that the 'friend' was male, and an old boyfriend who might very well resent her bringing along the latest male to catch her eye. 'But I'm organising the party, so I can invite who I like.'

  'Can I have a word in private?' Caro asked her coldly, but Amy beat a hasty retreat to the door.

  'Tonight, darling,' she said. 'I must rush, if you aren't coming shopping...'

  'Well, I'll see you when you pick me up tonight!' Caro grimly promised her, and Amy looked hunted.

  'Take a taxi, will you, darling? We'll be going there early to help get everything ready. See you.'

  'Amy!' Caro yelled after her, but she had slammed the door and was to be heard almost running away. Gil laughed softly, and Caro turned a furious glare on him.

  'What's so funny?'

  'Your expression! What's bothering you? The idea of my coming to this party? What might I see? The efficient Miss Ramsgate actually being human?'

  'I'm human, don't worry,' Caro snapped. 'As you'll find out if you keep annoying me!'

  He laughed. 'I'm shaking in my shoes!'

  'Oh, go away!' she angrily muttered. 'You may have nothing better to do, but I must get this work finished or I'll be here until midnight, and I'll miss the party, not that I feel much like going now.'

  'You're going, if I have to come and get you myself,' said Gil. 'In fact, I will. I'll pick you up at seven-thirty.'

  'No,' she said, horrified by the very idea of going there with him. 'I don't know when I'll be ready—don't bother, I'll take a taxi.'

  'You won't,' he insisted. 'I'll pick you up, and it doesn't matter if you aren't ready, because I would like a chance for a chat with your father.'

  'Oh, I might have known! You want to talk him into showing you my report, I suppose? You won't succeed. Dad isn't an easy proposition.'

  'Something else you have in common,' Gil drily said, and was gone before she could think of anything to say in reply.

  When she warned her father that Gil was calling to take her to the party that evening, Fred looked oddly at her. 'You're seeing a lot of him.'

  Caro blushed and then was furious. T didn't ask him to the party, Amy did.' She explained how it had happened, adding, 'Amy was dying of curiosity about him. She came to the store in the hope of meeting him.'

  Fred looked amused. 'I've a lot of time for Amy, she always does go straight for what she wants. And she's so sweet-tempered with it!'

  Caro gave him a derisive look. 'You just don't know Amy!' In the hall a clock chimed, and she groaned. 'It's seven o'clock! I don't have time to get ready for the party now, anyway. I don't think I'll go.'

  'You will,' Fred said. T want you to stay close to Gil Martell, be charming to him, soften him up. We don't want any trouble from him when we take over.'

  Nothing her father had said or done had ever shocked her before, but Caro was shocked then, by the idea of being nice to Gil for such a reason.

  'I wouldn't be charming to Gil Martell if my life depended on it!' she said fiercely, scowling; and then she went upstairs and began to get ready for the party.

  Gil arrived promptly; she heard the doorbell and then the sound of her father being very friendly. Caro grimaced at herself in the mirror. She knew that bluff, frank voice; it always meant her father was at his most devious. She had better get downstairs before Fred invited Gil in for drinks and tried to pump him for information about the running of Westbrooks. Gil would not appreciate that.

  She ran downstairs, hearing their voices in the hall, and Gil turned to watch her come, his dark eyes narrowed in an appraisal which made her acutely self-conscious.

  Her father stared, too, bolt-eyed and frowning. 'Wherever did you buy that?' he growled disapprovingly. She had expected his reaction; her father usually was conservative when it came to her clothes, and the neckline of the flame-coloured dress was much lower than her necklines usually were, revealing the pale curve where her breasts began. The clinging silky skirt was tight-fitting, but slit up one side, giving a glimpse of her thigh with every step she took. Caro had hesitated over buying the dress for ages; she had never been prepared to take risks where clothes were concerned, but tonight she had been feeling rebellious and her mirror told her the flame dress really did something for her.

  'She bought it at Westbrooks,' drawled Gil, and she gave him a startled look. He intercepted it and grinned at her. 'Oh, yes, I recognise our stock! I don't just sit behind my desk and dictate memos, you know! I can even tell you how much it cost and which firm made it.'

  'Good lad,' Fred approved, beaming. 'I like a man who keeps in touch with what he's selling, even when his store is as big as Westbrooks.'

  Gil gave him a sardonic glance. 'But you'll still take my job away and hand the running of my store over to one of your own executives.'

  'We haven't even begun to think about it!' Fred stoutly said, and Caro knew from the faint shift of his eyes that he was lying.

  Gil was right, she realised. Her father had already decided to replace him with one of their own men. Her stomach turned over sickeningly and she paled. Gil was going to hate her when it happened. He would never forgive either her or her father.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The party was held in one of the leafy streets of St John's Wood, close to Caro's own district of London, and a very chic, elegant and expensive place to live. It had once been the fashionable place for married Victorian gentlemen to keep their expensive mistresses, which was why the houses were often imitations of overgrown country cottages set among pretty cottage gardens, with pink tiled roofs and little porches, and stained glass windows to give a spuriously pious air. The district had changed a great deal, of course. Today there were plenty of blocks of flats and ugly modern buildings, and the streets were choked by traffic, but the tree
s and gardens persisted and somehow that country feeling still clung on.

  The party was in full swing by the time they arrived. Amy met them at the door, flushed with excitement and as graciously welcoming as if she was giving the party herself. She kissed Caro on her cheek, lightly, then stood back and eyed her up and down, lifting her eyebrows in laughing disbelief. 'Well, well, well! Darling, what's happened to you?'

  Caro felt waves of heat flow up her face, especially with Gil smilingly observing her, but fortunately Amy didn't wait for a reply. She had already turned and kissed Gil, not quite so lightly, or so quickly. Her mouth lingered, and she smiled up into his eyes, tiny, childlike, oddly sexy Amy.

  'Hello, again,' she cooed in her throatiest voice. 'I was afraid you wouldn't actually come. I'm so glad you have—it will give us a chance to get to know each other better.'

  'I hope so,' Gil said softly, staring into her baby-blue eyes with unhidden amusement.

  Caro watched, not sure whether she was more jealous or envious. Her teeth were tight and her throat smouldered with fury over the way Amy was flirting with him, but she knew, too, that she wished she could frankly react to a man the way Amy did. She was too shy, though, too self-conscious. Amy wasn't; she was never inhibited or nervous. She had a most enviable gift of self-assurance and enjoyment of life.

  'You must come and say hello to some people who are dying to meet you,' Amy said to him, threading her arm through his. Casually, she tossed to Caro the remark that, 'Antony is over there, at the bar, handing out the drinks. He's been waiting for you with bated breath since the party began. Go and help him, there's a love!'

  Caro glanced across the room to where a very tall, very skinny man with a rugged, raw-boned face and pale, fine hair was pouring drinks and offering bowls of peanuts. He wasn't at all bad-looking, she decided, but then even if she had hated him she wouldn't have admitted it in front of Gil. She forced a bright smile and said, 'Love to! See you!'

  She felt Gil watching her, but didn't look his way to check on his expression. What difference did it make? Amy was going to monopolise him all evening, and anyway, Gil loathed and despised both her and her father. She was just torturing herself by thinking about him. They were enemies and would never be anything else.

  When Fred had blandly claimed that he hadn't even begun to think about possible future changes at Westbrooks, Gil had known he was lying. He hadn't bothered to argue. Her face had tightened and hardened, but he had just said quietly to her, 'If you're ready, we'll be on our way.'

  She normally kissed her father before she went out in the evenings, but tonight she had just walked out, without even looking at Fred Ramsgate. No doubt that would have surprised and puzzled her father, but she hadn't cared.

  Gil had put her into the front passenger seat of the black Rolls and had driven away without speaking to her, scowling through the windscreen at the light traffic through which they had moved. Caro had known what he was thinking about—what else could make him look like that? She had wished she could come up with something to distract him, but her mind had been numb with guilt and unhappiness. This was the first time that she had actually begun to realise the human consequences of one of their takeover operations. Hitherto she had told herself that they would improve a department store; make money for everybody, including the staff and the shareholders. But then in the past she had never been emotionally involved with any of the management they were ousting.

  She put a bright smile on her face as she went up to Antony. 'Hi! I'm a friend of Amy...'

  'I remember,' he said vaguely, pouring her a drink and handing it to her with an automatic smile. 'You're Caro. We met when I operated on Amy, and she's always talking about you; schoolgirl chums, weren't you?' He let his pale blue eyes roam over the flame-red dress and his smile brightened. 'You look gorgeous, I love the dress. Have you come to help me behind the bar? Won't you come into my parlour, said the spider to the fly...?' He waved her round to his side of the polished wood counter. 'Tell you what, you deal with those who want wine and I'll deal with the rest, OK?'

  'OK,' she said bleakly, her eyes on the other side of the room where Amy was twining herself all over Gil, like clinging ivy around a tall tree.

  Antony followed her stare and grimaced. 'Sometimes I could kill her,' he said with grim frankness.

  Caro looked at him. 'You're in love with her?'

  'How did you guess?' he said drily.

  'It wasn't difficult,' she said with sympathy, wondering if her own state of the heart was as obvious. She must stop looking at Gil; she had an uneasy suspicion that her feelings showed when she was looking at him.

  'I made the mistake of caring more than she did,' Antony told her in a bright voice, pretending to find it all funny. 'Amy loves to be in love, but it wears off quickly and then she gets bored. I'm unfortunately the faithful type. Very silly of me, but there you are... I can't help it.'

  Caro felt so sorry for him—and for herself. She could almost have cried. She leaned over and kissed him. 'I'm so sorry. Love's hell, isn't it?'

  'You find it hell, too?' he guessed, and she wished she hadn't been so frank. She didn't want to talk about Gil, or about herself.

  'I was in love once,' she said lightly. 'Years ago— Damian Shaw, his name was. He was a swine and I was broken-hearted, but it always passes, you know. You just have to let time be the doctor.'

  He laughed. 'A better one than I am, I'm sure. So you're fancy free again? Nobody else has come along since the swine?'

  She shook her head and to change the subject poured him a drink. 'Come on, cheer yourself up and enjoy the fun!'

  He shook his head, smiling. 'I'd better not. I'm in charge of this party, and if I get drunk heaven only knows what will happen.'

  There was a sudden rush of people wanting drinks and for ten minutes they hardly exchanged a word. When they did start talking again, Caro took care to keep the conversation light. She asked about his work, about the new flat, about his family, about his hobbies—anything, in fact, except what was on both their minds. Amy and Gil were dancing now, very close together because the room was small and there were too many others dancing in it. They all shuffled around, arms around each other, bodies touching. Caro wouldn't look. Couldn't bear to look. But she knew exactly how they danced, how they gazed at each other, how they smiled. And she hated it.

  'Like to dance?' somebody asked and Caro looked round, startled. The young man was a complete stranger, but Antony knew him and pushed her towards him, smiling.

  'Caro, meet Peter. He's the world's worst physician, but he can dance, so go on, enjoy yourself!'

  'Well, thank you.' The young man grinned, sliding an arm round Caro before she could think of an excuse not to dance. They moved into the throng and shuffled with everybody else. Caro was very flushed and overheated and wished she could go home; she wished she hadn't come, in fact. She wished she could see Gil, but although she spotted Amy nearby, she was dancing with somebody else and there was no sign of Gil. Had he gone home? Caro's stomach plunged and she felt miserable, until she caught sight of him at the bar, getting a drink.

  A moment later Amy announced that food was being served in the kitchen and everyone began pushing that way. Caro excused herself to her partner and went back to the bar. Gil was still leaning on it, sipping a large glass of iced lime and soda.

  'Isn't it hot in here?' Caro said, thirstily staring at his drink. 'I could do with one of those.'

  He offered her his glass. 'Oh, I couldn't take yours!' she said, but he insisted, so she sipped from it gratefully.

  'Thank you, that was delicious...' she said, giving it back to him. 'My throat was parched.'

  'Do you want some supper?' he asked, finishing the drink and putting down the glass. 'Amy showed it to me, and I must say it looks fabulous. She has quite a gift for organisation, doesn't she? A very shrewd girl, too.'

  Caro wondered what he meant by that. It was true, Amy was shrewd, but in what way had Gil meant it? She wasn't g
oing to ask, of course. Instead, she said, 'Please, do go and get some food, if you want to eat...'

  He shook his head. 'I'm not hungry, but I'll get you a plateful...'

  'No, I'm not hungry, either,' she said.

  There was a silence, then Gil asked quietly, 'Do you want to stay here? Are you enjoying it?'

  She took a deep breath and told the truth. It was quite a relief. 'Not really; I don't know many people and it's rather overcrowded and much too hot. What about you?' She looked up into his dark eyes and Gil smiled wryly.

  'I'm bored out of my skull. Let's get out of here, and we'd better not find Amy to tell her we're going. Hang on...' He went over to where Antony was lining up clean glasses, freshly brought from the dishwasher in the kitchen. Gil told him they were going and Antony waved to her, grinned broadly. 'Have fun, you two!'

  Caro flushed and that made Antony laugh aloud. As they left, she asked Gil crossly, 'What did you say to him?*

  'I said we were going off to a private party of our own!' Gil drawled, putting her into the front seat of the Rolls. Caro's face was burning. She had a feeling her ears were, too.

  'Oh, how could you?' she muttered, sinking down into the deeply upholstered leather seat. 'He'll probably repeat that to Amy and then she'll spread it around half London!'

  'Who are you afraid will hear about it?' Gil got into the seat beside her and started the engine. 'Damian Shaw?'

  She did a double-take. 'What?' 'I heard all about it from Amy,' said Gil and Caro's teeth met.

  'Amy had no right to talk about my private life!' she muttered. Why had Amy talked about Damian to him? How dared Amy discuss something so intimate about a friend with a man she had only just met? But Caro knew why, of course; her grey eyes glittered. She had always known that Amy could be ruthless, but she hadn't thought Amy would ever betray her! But then they had never been in possible competition for the same man before! She saw with bitter clarity that Amy had sensed her interest in Gil; Amy had known her a long time and knew her very well. If Amy had told Gil about Damian it was so that Gil would think she was in love with someone else and wouldn't take any interest in her himself.