by Janet Dailey
While she applied a deep blue shadow that intensified the brilliant colour of her eyes, Laurie bade Vera a silent “thank you” for providing this time to marshall her wits. Rian's presence had been narcotically disturbing, proving a turn of events she hadn't anticipated. The outcome was still in question, she realized, as she applied mascara to her sooty, thick lashes, but now there seemed to be a chance to retreat from Mobile with some of her self-respect. All of it depended, of course, on how Rian took her explanation of why she was here instead of LaRaine and his reason for not disclosing her as an impostor.
By the time she had donned her undergarments and a half slip, Laurie felt more in control of herself, although still considerably apprehensive about the coming hours. She scanned her wardrobe thoroughly, searching for the right dress to wear. It was true that woman gained confidence from a well-groomed appearance and Laurie was going to need all she could get.
The knock on the door took her by surprise. “Who is it?” she called out sharply, turning towards the door as it opened and Rian Montgomery walked in unannounced. As Laurie grabbed for the robe hanging on the closet door, she saw his insolent appraisal of her scantily clad figure. Her cheeks were once again set aflame. “You could have waited for permission to enter!” she flashed, hating him for catching her unaware again.
“When you were swimming, you paraded in front of Colin wearing less than what you have on now.” His mouth curled into a jeer as he crossed the room to her side with the grace of a jungle panther.
Laurie would have liked to have said that Colin didn't look at her as though she were a piece of merchandise to be pawed, then cast aside if she didn't meet certain standards, but her position was too tenuous for such impertinence.
“I wasn't referring to my attire,” she spoke with forced calm, “but permission to enter my bedroom."
“Do I need permission to enter my fiancée's bedroom?"
She met his mocking gaze, pride hiding the pain in her gaze that his stinging words had evoked. “We both know I'm not your fiancée."
“Everyone here thinks you are. Their glowing words of praise for you are still ringing in my ears.” The sarcasm in his low voice lashed out at her like a whip, drawing an involuntary flinch. Her gaze fell from his sardonic features to the expertly tailored white slacks moulding the firmness of his thighs below the navy blue blazer jacket.
“I'm sorry about that, Mr. Montgomery. I—” Laurie began humbly.
“Oh, please make it Rian,” he sneered.
She clutched the ivory satin robe tighter around her throat, faltering for a moment before tossing back her head to send the dark curls cascading down her back. In the depths of her blue eyes there burned a flash of anger which she veiled quickly with her lashes.
“I'm sorry,” Laurie repeated more forcefully.
One side of his mouth quirked in derision. “I'm sure you are. My arrival was very inopportune ... for you."
“That's not what I meant and you know it.” There was a desperate ring to her voice, but Rian only found amusement in her discomfort.
“You don't honestly expect me to believe you're sorry for ingratiating yourself with my aunt.” Contempt was sharply etched in the arrogantly inclined head, his tallness making Laurie feel all the smaller.
“You're making this sound like a cheap trick,” she protested weakly, her chin beginning to quiver from the turmoil of her emotions. “There was never any harm intended to anyone."
“Would you like to explain that to Vera?” Rian demanded harshly, his nostrils flaring in white-hot anger.
Her oval face turned downward, tears of shame blurring her vision fixed on the white carpet beneath her bare feet. It was a silent admission of defeat. It was true no harm had been intended, but what had started out as an innocent deception had reached gargantuan proportions. When Vera discovered who Laurie really was, there would be bewilderment and pain.
“I would like to explain,” Laurie murmured.
“No doubt I'll be fascinated by your tale, but not now.” He cut her off sharply. Icy disdain embittered his voice. “My romantically inclined aunt touchingly agreed that since we've been separated for so many days, we should be alone this evening."
“You haven't told her yet?” Enormous blue eyes stared at him in disbelief.
“I'll meet you downstairs in half an hour,” Rian said harshly, deliberately ignoring her question. “That should give you ample time to fabricate a believable explanation.” He took a step towards her and Laurie involuntarily backed up. The curl of his unrelenting mouth mocked her action as he reached behind her into the closet and withdrew a blue jersey dress. “Wear this,” he ordered. “It matches your deceptively innocent eyes."
With the backhanded compliment ringing in her ears, Rian thrust the hangered dress into her unwilling hands, then left the room. His departure left her gulping for air, only then realizing how this constricting presence had suffocated her. On wavering legs, Laurie stumbled to the velvet-cushioned bench in front of her dressing-table, the repercussions of their conversation raining about her head. She was expected to spend an entire evening with him! An entire evening fielding his sarcastic jibes! Listening to him tear her story apart! Remembering how the masquerade had come about made Laurie realize how unbelievable it sounded, how totally selfish the motives were.
A hysterical laugh rose in her throat. From the outset she had considered the masquerade dangerous, that Rian Montgomery would make a formidable enemy. Why hadn't she listened to her own warnings? There would be hell to pay if Rian ever found out, she had told herself once. Stating at the blue dress in her hands, Laurie knew Rian was going to extract every ounce of payment from her. Fatalistically she realized there was nothing she could do to prevent it.
Exactly a haft hour later, Laurie walked out the door of her bedroom, unnecessarily smoothing the clinging fabric of the dress over her hips. The aesthetically pure design of the cerulean dress effectively accented her shapely figure. The simple boat neckline set off the graceful column of her throat while artfully accenting the rounding swell of her breasts. Skillfully tailored darts nipped in the waist, then widened over her slim hips and allowed the silken skirt to curl around her legs.
Her raven hair reflected blue highlights from the dress although it was pulled severely back into a chignon at the nape of her neck. Laurie felt like a martyr walking down the stairs on her way to be burned at the stake. Frantic butterflies beat at the walls of her stomach as she gripped the polished oak banister for support. She wanted to command her legs to carry her away from this house and Rian Montgomery, but she was afraid if she did, she would discover that they would nightmarishly refuse to move.
A door opened near the base of the stairs and Rian walked out, looking darkly compelling in a black dress suit and tie. Yet it made him look no more civilized than a black panther wearing a jewel-studded collar. Laurie froze in the shadow of the stairs, her pulse erratically fluctuating as she waited for Rian to see her. There was another man with him, several inches shorter, with close-cropped brown hair and dark-rimmed glasses. It was the second man who caught the flash of her blue dress on the stairs.
His brown head immediately turned in her direction, a wide smile softening the thin face. “You're looking more beautiful than ever, LaRaine,” he called out.
As Rian's dark eyes coldly inspected her appearance, Laurie forced her trembling legs to carry her down the stairs into the light. With quailing heart, she watched the other man's expression change to one of astonishment.
“You aren't LaRaine,” he murmured, darting a curious look at Rian's unfathomable expression.
“Surely you haven't forgotten so soon what my fiancée looks like,” Rian drawled blandly, moving to the base of the stairs to meet Laurie. The scorching touch of his fingers was on her elbow, firmly leading her to the still gaping man. “You remember my man Friday, E. J. Denton, don't you, Laurie?"
Scarlet colour stained her cheeks as she briefly met the man's incredulous gaze
. Numbly he held his hand out to her, mumbling a greeting which Laurie returned with equal embarrassment. The man's puzzled glance returned again to Rian, seeking an answer to his unspoken question with none forthcoming.
“Get hold of David tonight,” Rian ordered crisply. “Tell him I want that report on the Rexler company tomorrow. He can send it by courier if he has to, or bring it himself."
It was an obvious dismissal and it sent E. J. Denton scurrying back into the study. His departure left a fragile silence behind. Laurie was vividly conscious of the man standing beside her, his strong hand still gripping her arm as if he expected her to flee. He wasn't to know that she was incapable of movement. She was trapped by her own conscience that insisted she receive her due punishment for her foolhardy action. Yet her gaze was wary as it rose to meet the enigmatical expression in his eyes.
Once again Laurie was forcefully struck by the strength in his face, so compellingly handsome at the same time so forbiddingly relentless. The aristocratic lines were overstamped with arrogance and the eagle-sharp perception of one accustomed to command. If she wasn't so frightened, she would have seen how amusing it had been for her and LaRaine to think they could fool him and get away with it.
“Have you found it yet?” Rian jeered softly, snapping the toothpick silence.
Laurie started visibly. “Found what?"
“I imagine you were looking for my Achilles’ heel."
“If you ever had one, I'm sure by now you have it impregnably protected,” she declared with surprising sarcasm.
“I'm glad you realize that,” he snapped grimly, his fingers digging deeper into her arm in punishment for her biting tone. Then he forcibly turned her towards the front hallway. “My car is outside."
Laurie jerked her arm free of his grasp, tilting her dark head defiantly as she walked briskly towards the front door. She wanted to get the inquisition over with quickly while her pride still maintained a precarious hold on her composure. Her sensitive radar told her Rian was only a step behind her. The back of her neck tingled where his dark gaze surely rested on her. As she reached the oak entrance door, a dark-sleeved arm reached in front of her to open it.
“You two aren't leaving already, are you?” Vera's voice sounded from the living room door.
Rian's hand touched Laurie's waist, the electric contact halting her when she would have bolted through the open door. Her inner apprehensions had written too much of her agitation in her eyes for Laurie to allow the other woman to see her face.
“I'm afraid so,” said Rian, successfully keeping his tall figure between the two women. “We have early reservations."
“I was hoping you could have a drink with us before you left,” Vera sighed before her voice brightened. “When you come back, we can get together."
“Yes, when we get back.” There was dry amusement in his voice before his hand was removed from Laurie's waist and she was free to walk out the door.
A white Continental was parked in the drive next to Colin's gold Thunderbird. Laurie briefly thought how much more enjoyable an evening it would be if she were climbing into that car instead of Rian's. But the white door was being opened and Laurie slipped gracefully in, the white leather seat wrapping her in luxury. Clasping her hands tightly in her lap, she stared straight ahead as Rian climbed in behind the wheel. She swallowed nervously, waiting for the sound of the motor starting, only to hear continued silence. A sideways look at Rian found him staring coldly at her, his eyes raking her stiffly controlled appearance.
“Your hair offends me. Take it down,” he ordered with autocratic arrogance.
“No!” Her angry refusal was accompanied by a protecting hand moving to the smooth chignon of raven hair coiled against her neck.
Before she could prevent it, rough fingers were pulling the pins out of her hair, raking through it to send it into a billowing black cloud around her shoulders.
“You don't have the sophistication to carry off such a severe style,” Rian decreed, a dark brow arching cynically at the rebellious expression on her face.
“How would you know?” she demanded, regretting her impudence at the answering flash of anger in his eyes. As quickly as the fire in his gaze burst into flame, it was banked.
His hand reached up and flicked the visor down in front of Laurie. He pointed towards the mirror. “Tell me whether you see a poised young woman or an inexperienced girl."
A vulnerable oval face looked back at her, shimmering blue eyes sparkling in a childlike temper. Rian's aquiline features mocked her reflection as the soft curve of her lips drooped with defeat. Her sharp retort had been as effective as the pathetic hiss of a kitten trying to hold a snarling jungle cat at bay.
CHAPTER FIVE
THE restaurant Rian took her to was one of the more plush, exclusive places in Mobile. The evening hour was early and most of the tables were vacant. Still Rian instructed the maître d'hôtel to give them a secluded corner table where a potted palm ensured them of further privacy from the nearest table. A black-suited waiter appeared instantly.
“Drinks before dinner, sir?” he queried.
Rian shot a quick glance at Laurie who was nervously clutching the gold-tasselled menu. “I—” she began, preparing to voice her refusal for any alcoholic beverage. She had never cared for the taste of liquor.
“A Bacardi cocktail for the lady and I'll have a Manhattan,” he ordered with a dismissive nod of his dark head.
“I don't drink,” Laurie protested as the waiter withdrew from their table.
“You're as taut as a violin string,” Rian mocked, taking in the pallor of her face. “A cocktail will relax those knots in your stomach so you can enjoy your dinner."
“The condemned ate a hearty meal,” Laurie thought bitterly, knowing she had little recourse. Under his watchful eye, she took an experimental sip of the drink when it arrived. The brightly pink liquid was surprisingly sweet with the citrus tang of a lime twist floating in the shaved ice.
“Is it satisfactory?” Rian inquired.
“Yes, thank you,” Laurie nodded, setting the champagne style glass back on the table. Her blue eyes hesitantly glanced his direction, noting the languid ease with which he reclined in his chair. If only she could feel so relaxed, she wished.
Trivial conversation was impossible between them and the silence stretched out like an invisible barrier. Laurie had expected the interrogation to begin when they had left the house, but Rian had seemed preoccupied during the drive to the restaurant and although his hooded gaze strayed to her often, there were still none of the endless questions she had anticipated. To fill the awkward stillness, her hand kept reaching for the drink until finally the glass was drained, leaving a pale pink foam around the lime slice. His own drink was barely touched.
The waiter reappeared at Rian's side. “May I order for you?” Rian asked with condescending politeness.
Food was the farthest thing from her mind and Laurie quite willingly left the choice up to him. With the complacency of a man who knows exactly what he wants, Rian gave the waiter their order without consulting the menu. Laurie had believed herself to be too nervous to eat, so it was a surprise when she discovered she had eaten the last of the freshly caught fried shrimp. The before-dinner cocktail combined with two glasses of white wine with the meal had banished more of her tension than she had realized. The dinner plates were removed and a cup of steaming black coffee was in front of her. Laurie was sitting comfortably back in her chair, no longer on the edge of her seat as she had been.
The strike of a match across the table from her prompted a glance at her quiet dinner companion. A pencil-thin cigar was between Rian's fingers, sending a gauzy grey cloud into the air above the table. The knife point in his dark eyes pinned her attention.
“Explain to me how you came to be at my aunt's,” his crisp voice commanded decisively.
The period of truce was over. Rivulets of perspiration collected in her palms as Laurie fought to meet his watchful gaze without fli
nching.
“I don't know where to begin,” she murmured helplessly.
His mouth quirked cynically. “The beginning is the usual place. I already know the end."
There was too much strength in his features for Laurie to combat. Her gaze fell to the china cup in front of her. “LaRaine fully intended to come to Mobile. She'd already begun packing to leave when she received a telephone call from Mr. Lambert,” she began hesitantly.
“And who is Mr. Lambert?"
“He's a film producer in Hollywood.” She glanced up as his gaze hardened with uncompromising severity. “She met him at a party you'd taken her to the week before. He offered her a small part in a movie he was producing.” Laurie swallowed nervously, unconsciously edging forward in her chair, seeking to impress upon Rian the importance of the opportunity to LaRaine. “You see, LaRaine has dreamed of becoming a movie star since she was a child. So when the offer came, it was like a dream coming true for her. If she turned it down, the chance of her ever being considered again would be just about nil."
“Oh, yes, the opportunity of having a woman's beauty exploitedly magnified on the screen is definitely not an offer to be lightly refused,” Rian drawled sarcastically.
Laurie blanched, feeling his words were censuring her rather than LaRaine's actions. “LaRaine became carried away by the unexpectedness of the offer. When Mr. Lambert offered her a contract on the spot, she accepted it."
“Only afterwards did she remember she was supposed to visit my aunt, is that right?"
“Something like that, yes.” The icy disdain in his eyes sent cold shivers down Laurie's back. “She didn't know how to get in touch with you to explain what had happened and postpone the visit to Mobile. LaRaine couldn't very well call Vera and explain what had happened. The contract was already signed committing her to appear in the movie."
“Is that when the idea of sending you in her place was conceived?"