Kelly's Man

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by Rosemary Carter


  She looked at him, feeling a little sick. Whatever other faults her fiance might have, surely he had not stooped to discussing her father's position? Nicholas Van Mijden seemed to sense the unspoken question, and unexpectedly there was a slight softening in the hard face. But it was a softness which did not extend to his words. 'You might have found their comments enlightening.'

  Kelly found her voice. 'I don't believe you. Gary ... My fiance wouldn't stoop to gossip.'

  A shrug of broad shoulders. 'What you believe is of no concern to me. But to get back to my original question—you do believe that money is the solution to all your problems, don't you?'

  She made an effort to meet his eyes. When that became difficult her glance slipped to the well- shaped nose, the mobile lips, the strong sweep of the jaw. If he was not handsome in a conventional sense his air of uncompromising maleness and toughness nonetheless made him the most arresting man she had ever encountered. He was also rude and arrogant and lacking in manners. In fact he possessed all the qualities she most detested.

  'You're referring to the payment I offered George yesterday,' she said at last, with as much composure as she could muster.

  'Offer of payment,' he jeered. 'A spade is a spade, Miss Stanwick, and a bribe is a bribe in any language.'

  She felt the colour rise in her cheeks. It was becoming hard to breathe. It was as if the tall broad- shouldered figure took up most of the space in the room, though she knew, logically, that this could not be so.

  There was truth in what he said. But it was not the whole truth. She had offered the money as an inducement, but she had not meant it as a bribe. She had seen it only as a way of averting an accident, never dreaming that an accident of another sort would happen in consequence.

  'I don't expect you to understand,' she began uncertainly, then stopped. It was hard to explain her motivation, without in some way indicting Gary. He was reckless, even selfish perhaps. But she wore his ring, and had promised to be his wife, and she owed him some loyalty. A small pink tongue went out to moisten a dry lower lip. 'The photo was of great importance to my fiancé.'

  'So important that all safety precautions could be disregarded. No,' he said in a hard voice, 'I don't understand.'

  How clever he was at making her feel small! But not so clever that he did not see the only fallacy in his accusations.

  'Assuming it was a bribe—which I dispute—why did George accept? He could have remained firm in his refusal.'

  Something came and went in the grey eyes, and a muscle tightened in the long line of the jaw. 'You heard George say the money would be useful. The Andersons have been through a bad patch, and Mary's baby is due soon. You caught George at a very low moment, Miss Stanwick.'

  'I see...' She kept her expression composed, but deep inside her there was a stab of shame and compassion. Then she said, 'That being the case, Mr Van Mijden, why do you object to the fact that I want to help?'

  An eyebrow lifted. 'Did I say I object?

  She stared at him uncertainly, wondering that he had the power to make her feel quite so vulnerable. 'Isn't that what all the sarcasm is about?'

  'You have misunderstood.' He chuckled, and the sound was low and sensuous, sending a sudden quiver through her nerve-stream. 'It's not your help I object to, it's the fact that you seem to see help only in the form of money.'

  'What other form is there?' she asked, puzzled.

  'The only form that counts.' His words were measured. 'The kind of help that involves your time and your hands.'

  Was he quite mad? Kelly wondered. She was aware that he was studying her, his eyes watchful as he registered the conflicting emotions which flickered across her face. 'You don't expect me to fill in for George?' she asked at last. 'I couldn't do a man's work.'

  'But you could do a woman's,' he said very softly. And then, as she continued to look at him speechlessly: 'You could do Mary's work.'

  She stepped abruptly away from him. More than ever she was aware of the claustrophobic atmosphere of the room—odd that she had not been aware of it when she had played cards here with her friends. But perhaps the atmosphere had less to do with the size of the room than with the sense of maleness now pervading it, a maleness that was so potent as to be dizzying.

  'Let me go,' she ordered low-toned, knowing that her only way out of the room was past the lean muscled body which stood between her and the door.

  'When you've agreed to my proposition.'

  She sent him a burning look. 'I've never heard anything more absurd in my life!'

  'Absurd?' He was baiting her, she thought, and taking pleasure in it.

  'Of course. I know nothing about hotel management.'

  He looked at her steadily. 'You could learn.'

  He means it, she thought. He actually means it. This is not just a game.

  Aloud, she said, 'I suppose I could. But there'd be no point in it.'

  'There would. George will be operated on tomorrow. If you took over Mary's duties she could be at his side.'

  If it was anyone other than Nicholas Van Mijden who was speaking these words, Kelly thought, she would understand. She would even be prepared to consider the proposition. She had noticed the love that existed between the Andersons, and she realised that it would make all the difference to George to have Mary by his side. She did not know what Mary's duties entailed, but it was probable that she could learn them. But the man was Nicholas, and an irrational rebelliousness would not let her give in to him.

  'Mary wouldn't ask it of me,' she protested, thinking of the sweet-natured young woman with the pretty smile. 'She doesn't even know I'm here.'

  'It's the very last thing she would expect from the rich Kelly Stanwick,' Nicholas agreed equably. He paused, a lazy smile lifting the corners of his lips, a smile which did not reach the dark eyes. 'I expect it.'

  It was his arrogance which made her fight him. 'You can't force me.'

  'You only think that because nobody has ever forced you to do a thing in your life.' His tone was quiet, and very dangerous.

  'You're no exception,' she threw at him recklessly.

  'You want me to prove it to you.'

  It was a statement, not a question. Seeing the glitter in his eyes, Kelly braced herself for the next verbal attack. She was unprepared for the hands that reached for her shoulders, jerking her roughly against the hard wall of his body. She saw his head descend, and tried to twist away from him, but he was quicker than she was. Easily his lips found hers, crushing them without mercy. His hands left her shoulders and moved to her back and down to her hips with a possession to which he had no right. Flames shot through her nerve-stream, fierce and wild, stirring her blood and dizzying her senses. Her body knew an irrational desire to respond, but her mind remained sane. It was with an effort of will that she kept her hands at her side and her lips tightly closed.

  She was quivering when he put her from him. As he looked down she saw in the grey eyes an expression which she could not define. 'A prim virgin on top of everything else,' he commented.

  Again his words had the power to hurt. Colour washed her cheeks, but Kelly kept her head high. 'I prefer to choose who will make love to me,' she countered icily.

  'Gary Sloan will be getting no more than he deserves.' If she had hoped to put him in his place, the cool derision of his expression revealed that she had not succeeded. 'But perhaps that won't bother him. There'll be other compensations.'

  Her hand was lifting to strike him when the door opened and Mary Anderson came into the room. Her pretty face was drawn and preoccupied, and her expression revealed that she was unaware of the tension in the room.

  'Nicholas, I was wondering where you...' Registering Kelly's presence in the room, she stopped. 'Why, Miss Stanwick, I thought you'd left.'

  'I had.' Kelly marvelled that she could smile, that her voice was so calm. She refused to glance at Nicholas, for if she did her composure would crumble. 'How is your husband, Mrs Anderson?'

  'Fortunately he's b
een sedated, so he doesn't feel much pain. They want to operate tomorrow.' Mary paused to dash away a tear. 'They're still doing tests.'

  The grief in the woman's face caught at Kelly's heart, and impulsively she took Mary's hand. 'I'm so sorry it happened.'

  'It was an accident.' If George's wife blamed Kelly for her husband's injuries, there was nothing in her tone to suggest it. She addressed herself to Nicholas Van Mijden. 'I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask for more help, Nick.' And then, turning to Kelly in explanation, 'Mr Van Mijden has given up hours of his time on his farm to help out here.'

  Before Kelly could recover from her surprise, the rugged-featured man, who just moments ago had stirred her senses with the roughness of his caresses, said evenly, 'And now you'll have one more person to help you, Mary.'

  'I don't understand...'

  'Miss Stanwick came back here for the purpose.' The look he shot at Kelly was meant for her alone. There was irony in it, coupled with warning. 'You'll be able to stay with George with an easy mind,'

  'You mean...?' The question came on an incredulous breath of wonder as Mary Anderson looked from Nicholas to Kelly.

  Miss Stanwick will take over your responsibilities.' Another glance at Kelly. 'I am right, Miss Stanwick?'

  Formality was out of place from the man who had shown her just how low his opinion of her really was. Kelly would have liked to take his words and ram them back down his throat. She stared at him a moment before answering, and at the steel in the long jaw and the enigmatic gleam in the narrowed eyes, she felt a momentary quiver. In a second she had herself under control. No matter what her feelings were for Nicholas Van Mijden—and by golly, she would see to it that she let him know exactly what she thought of him—for the moment there was a facade to preserve. It was obvious that Mary, who was watching her with an expression compounded of anxiety and hope, must be considered. Kelly owed Nicholas nothing, but Mary Anderson was another matter altogether. For Kelly had offered her husband money—a bribe, Nicholas had called it—to perform a mission which had endangered his life. Apart from her debt, Kelly realised that she wanted to help this woman, not much older than herself, with the wan face and swollen body and a heartache which no stranger could fully comprehend.

  'Yes.' Kelly refused to look back at Nicholas. She forced a smile. 'I really do want to help.'

  Only then, very briefly, did she glance aside. There was a gleam in the eyes of the man who disturbed her more every moment: an expression she had not seen before. Unaccountably her pulses quickened.

  'That's ... that's just... don't know what to say.' Tears stood in Mary's eyes, moving Kelly deeply, and increasing her feeling of guilt at the same time. 'Yesterday I thought you ... But I was wrong ... Nicholas, I don't know what to say...'

  'I think Miss Stanwick understands.' With a gentleness Kelly had not suspected in him, he interrupted the incoherent flow. 'Perhaps before I drive you into town you could just fill her in briefly on the things you do.'

  'Come down to the cottage with me,' Mary invited. 'We can talk while I change and put a few things in a suitcase.'

  The hotel comprised a main building in which were the office, the lounge and dining-room and the kitchen, as well as the card-room. Behind it, and on both sides, were the guest rondavels. They were round and thatched and whitewashed, many with creepers twisting up the roofs. The Andersons' cottage was a little distance away from the rest of the hotel, to give them some privacy, Kelly guessed. Bigger than the rondavels, it was also whitewashed, with bright flowering shrubs cascading over its walls.

  While Mary was in the bedroom changing, Kelly remained in the living-room. It was small but with a look of cheerful brightness. Everywhere Kelly saw touches of Mary's personality—framed photos of her family, tweed cushions which she had chosen to match the curtains, and books on gardening and cake-decorating. It was easy to see that Mary was a person who loved her home and the things that went into making it. Small the cottage might be, but it echoed the friendly charm of the couple who lived in it, giving it an atmosphere uniquely its own. Kelly, whose parents' home was a villa big enough for ten people, felt a sudden pang of envy.

  She went to the window and looked outside. The grounds of the hotel were beautiful. There were smooth landscaped lawns and beds of flowers, a cultivated loveliness against the granite backdrop of the mountains. In front of the cottage the Andersons had a small garden of their own. Here there had been no attempt at landscaping. Shrubs and flowers mixed and blended in a riot of colour and aromas, and beneath an oak tree was a weathered bench where they could sit together, alone and away from their guests. Beyond the garden was the view into the mountains. The morning mist was all vanished and the high peaks were sharply etched against the sky. Kelly wondered how it must be to wake daily to such beauty.

  'I never get tired of it.' Mary spoke from behind her.

  'I don't think I could either.' Kelly turned, and saw that the other woman had changed into a fresh maternity dress. Her hair was brushed and she had put on some make-up, but through it all worry and grief were still stark in her eyes. 'Don't worry about things here,' she said impulsively.

  'Thank you.' Mary smiled her gratitude. 'I shouldn't be gone more than two or three days. But what with you and Nicholas the place will be in good hands.'

  'I'll try my best.' Kelly was moved by the woman's simple confidence. 'Will you tell me what I should be doing?'

  They went into the bedroom, and Mary talked while she packed her suitcase.

  'I didn't realise how much you and George do yourselves,' Kelly commented at length. Somehow she had taken it for granted that there would be staff who did most of the actual work at the hotel.

  'We did have more help,' Mary acknowledged. She paused and looked up from her packing, her eyes clouded. 'We had a bad setback about a year ago. It was hard to keep our heads above water, so we had to find ways of cutting costs. As staff left we didn't replace them where we felt we could do the extra work ourselves.'

  'And yet the hotel seems to be doing so well,' Kelly ventured. 'So many guests...'

  'It's starting to come right. The last two months we've been virtually fully booked. But financially we still have some catching up to do.' She looked down at her swollen body. 'I won't be able to work much longer, and the baby will be another expense. Not that we mind.' A sudden glow lit her face. 'We've wanted a family for so long. But I must be boring you.'

  'Not at all.' At last Kelly was able to understand fully what she had done. She had held out temptation to a man who, against his better judgment, could not resist it. The money she had offered him would have gone some way towards buying necessities which he might otherwise not have been able to afford. But in tempting him she had also endangered his life. For the first time she understood the full reason for Nicholas's contempt.

  'I'm so sorry that this happened,' she said.

  'Don't be.' Mary knew instinctively to what she referred. 'George could have refused the money. We would have managed. He just saw it as making things that much easier.' She smiled, and Kelly had a glimpse of the girl she had been before worry and pregnancy had left their mark. 'I'm not angry. I'm just so grateful that you've come.'

  'Mary, where does Mr Van Mijden fit into the picture?'

  'Nicholas has been our friend almost from the beginning. He has a farm and a timber plantation a few miles south of here.' Her voice softened. 'He's one of the finest men I know.'

  Fine? Kelly wondered what Mary's reaction would be at learning of the way Nicholas had demonstrated his mastery over her. 'I find him arrogant,' she said stiffly.

  A hint of mischief appeared in Mary's eyes. 'Most women find Nicholas so sexy that they don't notice much else about him.'

  Most women ... Nothing about the words justified the little knife of pain which slid between her ribs. In a voice that was so deliberately casual that it came out sounding flat, Kelly asked, 'He's not married, then?'

  'Not yet. Though it won't be long now if Serena de Jager has h
er way. She's certainly the most glamorous of all the women who've chased him' Mary grimaced wryly as she closed the suitcase. 'Oh, Kelly, I almost forgot. You'll be sleeping here.'

  'Here?' Kelly looked up, her eyes slightly dazed, her mind still trying to assimilate what Mary had said about a woman called Serena de Jager.

  'Do you mind?' Mary saw her confusion, and misunderstood its cause. 'A convention is starting tomorrow. There's just one room left in the hotel and Nicholas will be using it.'

  'Of course I don't mind.' Kelly glanced at the double bed. The bed which belonged to Mary and George; for her to sleep in it seemed somehow an invasion of privacy. 'It's just ... well, this is your bedroom.'

  'It will have meaning for me only when George is well enough to share it with me again.' Mary straightened abruptly. 'Things should be fine, Kelly. But if you run into problems, or if you're uncertain of anything, you can always ask Nicholas.' There was the sound of a car outside the cottage. 'There he is now.'

  'Say hello to George for me.' Kelly kept her voice light as Mary made for the door. 'We'll all be holding thumbs for his recovery.'

  'I know that.' Tears glistened in Mary's eyes. She hugged Kelly swiftly. 'Bless you, Kelly, and thank you!'

  CHAPTER THREE

  NICHOLAS took Mary's case and put it in the boot of the car. Then he held the door open for her and waited for her to get in. Watching, Kelly saw again the gentleness she had detected in his tone when he had spoken to Mary in the card-room. It was an unexpected quality in a man who was, on the surface, all toughness and aggression. It was a quality which made him human.

  When the car had vanished from sight and Kelly was crossing the lawns, she wondered if the gentleness she had glimpsed was a quality which Nicholas reserved only for certain people—Mary, the wife of his best friend, whom he liked and respected, and Serena de Jager, the woman who seemed likely to become his wife. Presumably he loved her, and so he would be gentle with her too.

 

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