Golden Fever

by Carole Mortimer

  Rena still looked puzzled. ‘It isn’t like you, Clare. I’ve never known you not to get on with anyone.’

  ‘There has to be the exception,’ Clare said dryly.

  ‘I don’t—The coffee,’ said Rena as a knock sounded on the door.

  It was the necessary break in the conversation Clare needed, and while they drank their coffee she managed to keep the other girl off the subject of Rourke and their antipathy for each other.

  It was amazing what the two of them found to talk about once they got started, and it was after twelve when she finally made her way back to her own suite, sure that Rourke wouldn’t still be entertaining Belinda next door.

  The open communicating door showed that he hadn’t brought Belinda back here at all. Thank goodness they had gone to Belinda’s room. She closed the door.

  ‘Clare!’

  The door was being pushed open again, and she looked up into concerned blue eyes. ‘Rourke!’ she breathed huskily. He seemed to have come out of the bathroom, for he was wearing only a towelling robe and his hair was slightly damp from the shower he had taken.

  ‘God, Clare!’ he groaned in a tortured voice. ‘I thought you’d gone off with one of those clowns.’

  ‘I’ve been talking to Rena—’

  ‘Not Mark or Pete?’

  ‘Certainly not!’

  ‘Thank God for that, I would have ripped him apart—God, Clare, why do we have to keep hurting each other?’ He reached out for her.

  Thoughts of him and Belinda made her cringe back. ‘No!’

  ‘Clare, I want you!’ he moaned.

  ‘No!’ she shuddered now. ‘Where’s Belinda?’

  ‘How the hell should I know?’ His eyes hardened.

  ‘You left with her—’

  ‘And you know why! We’re destroying each other, Clare. Bit by bit we’re slowly destroying each other. And all because we really want each other.’

  ‘I don’t want you!’ she denied heatedly. ‘Now, would you mind leaving? I have to call Harvey.’

  ‘Harvey!’ he snapped in an icy voice. ‘Finish with him and we can—’

  ‘We can’t do anything. I wouldn’t do anything with you even if I weren’t engaged to Harvey. What happened that night five years ago destroyed any feeling I might ever have had for you,’ she lied, protecting herself in any way she could.

  Rourke drew in a ragged breath. ‘Then I guess there’s nothing left to say.’

  ‘Nothing at all,’ she agreed tightly.

  ‘I won’t bother you again.’

  ‘I hope you don’t.’

  ‘If only you—’

  ‘Goodnight, Rourke,’ Clare said pointedly.

  He didn’t answer, turning on his heel and going back into his own suite, the door locking behind him.

  Clare sank shakily into a chair. It was over, finally over. Rourke wouldn’t go back on his word, she had seen that in his eyes.

  He had been offering her another affair. God, she thought, hadn’t he done her enough damage the first time around! He finally seemed to have got the message, although what it would do for an already strained working relationship she had no idea.

  And right now she refused to even think about it. She had told Rourke she was going to call Harvey, and that was what she did, longing for the reassuring sound of his voice.

  There was no answer from his room. She tried again, still no answer. Harvey wasn’t even back yet! The second time she had deliberately let the telephone ring, knowing that if Harvey were there but asleep he would have answered it. He hadn’t come back!

  Oh God, her mother had done it again! How could she, how dared she? And Harvey had let her down in the worst way possible.

  She thought of telephoning her mother’s house to confirm her suspicions, but her pride wouldn’t allow for that. Besides, at this time of night it was obvious what they would be doing. And she refused to speak to Harvey when he was in her mother’s bed!

  She was aware of her lack of trust in Harvey, and yet it wasn’t really that, it was her knowledge of her mother’s true nature that made her believe what she did. No one could blame Harvey, if her mother had made a play for him he wouldn’t be able to refuse. She had seen her mother in action, and no man was immune to her—not even Rourke!

  Strange, she was still more hurt by Rourke’s past betrayal than she was by Harvey’s present-day one. Perhaps not so strange—she still loved him, damn him!

  She spent a restless night, finally getting up and dressing when it became obvious she wasn’t going to get any sleep. As soon as it was a reasonable time she tried Harvey’s room again, but there was still no answer. She hadn’t expected anything else, not really. Although what they would say to each other when he did return she had no idea.

  Just as she was about to leave her room the telephone rang. She snatched up the receiver, at the same time wondering whether she should have been worried about Harvey instead of mentally berating him. What if he had been involved in an accident, what if this were the police or hospital calling to let her know—

  It wasn’t, it was the reception desk. ‘Mr Pryce came back late last night,’ the girl informed her. ‘But he left again more or less straight away. He left a message for you.’

  ‘Yes?’ Clare instantly tensed.

  ‘We did try to reach you, but there was no answer in your room, and we had no idea where we could get in touch with you. Mr Pryce left instructions we weren’t to disturb you until this morning.’

  ‘Yes?’ Clare prompted again.

  ‘He wanted you to know that he was well, and that he would telephone you later today.’

  ‘Is that all?’ she asked in a disappointed voice.

  ‘Yes, Miss Anderson.’ The girl sounded as puzzled as she was.

  ‘Thank you,’ and Clare rang off, staring sightlessly into space.

  Harvey was all right and he would call her later today! What was that supposed to mean?

  She hurried from her room, determined not to be late. There had been no morning cup of coffee brought to her by Rourke today, but luckily she had been up early enough to order some for herself. Somehow she had missed Rourke bringing in her morning cup of coffee, and the little chat they usually had. It had usually been stimulating if nothing else!

  By the time of her first scene of the day she was calm and composed, Harvey’s enigmatic message pushed to the back of her mind. She never wore her engagement ring during filming, and somehow today she didn’t think she would ever be wearing it again.

  It wasn’t all Harvey’s fault, he was engaged to a woman who loved another man, and maybe he had been sensitive to that. Even if he hadn’t gone off with her mother she would have had to call off their engagement. Harvey deserved all a woman’s love, not a portion of it.

  ‘Ready, Miss Anderson?’

  ‘Yes,’ she answered Rourke huskily. She had been ’Miss Anderson’ all morning, showing her that there really was ’nothing more to say’. His chilling politeness made it easier for her to work with him, although only as a director; their scenes together were still cancelled.

  Working for him was better than working with him, and by the end of the day she was quite satisfied with her performance. Rourke seemed to be too, none of the biting criticism she was used to being forthcoming today.

  Harvey still hadn’t telephoned as she changed back into her own clothes and handed her costume to Wendy, the wardrobe girl. And as he hadn’t called she had no idea what she was going to do about Gene coming to dinner this evening. Harvey could be back in time, but even if he were she wasn’t sure she wanted to have dinner with him, let alone have him meet Gene.

  She had tried telephoning Gene at lunchtime to put him off for tonight, but the old telephone number she had for him was out of service, evidence that he had moved. She had no other way of getting in touch with him, so Harvey or no Harvey, she was having dinner with Gene tonight.

  She didn’t feel like having dinner with anyone; she felt suddenly lost and alone witho
ut Harvey’s emotional support. During the past three years she had come to rely on his professional and emotional support, and without him she felt somehow defenceless.

  ‘No fiancé again, Miss Anderson?’

  She almost groaned aloud at the sound of that taunting female voice. ‘Harvey is never here when we’re working,’ she answered Belinda calmly enough, although by the light of battle in the other girl’s eyes this conversation was far from over.

  Belinda sauntered over with exaggerated grace, her denims skin-tight, and obviously wearing no bra beneath the silky blouse. ‘The way I heard it,’ she drawled, ’he’s gone.’

  ‘Then you heard it wrong.’ Clare’s voice was brittle.

  ‘Did I?’ the other girl persisted.

  ‘Yes,’ she snapped. ‘I don’t know where you got your information—’

  ‘The front desk,’ Belinda taunted.

  Clare swallowed hard, determined not to show any emotion in front of this girl. ‘Then they’re mistaken,’ she said tightly. ‘Harvey has gone away on business for a couple of days, but he’ll be back.’

  ‘Will he?’

  ‘Yes!’

  ‘You’re sure he didn’t take exception to the way you drool over Rourke and broke off your engagement?’ Belinda scorned.

  It was so far from the truth that she had to smile. ‘I’m very sure about that.’

  The other girl flushed with anger. ‘You’re making a fool of yourself, you know.’

  Clare eyed her pityingly. ‘I don’t think I’m the one doing that.’

  Belinda’s eyes glittered vehemently. ‘Don’t get clever with me,’ she snapped. ‘You don’t mean a thing to Rourke. You just represent a challenge to him, and once you’ve given him what he wants he won’t be interested any more.’

  This was nearer the truth—as Clare knew from experience. ‘The same applies to you, Belinda,’ she said coolly. ‘I should remember that.’

  ‘Snobby bitch!’ the other girl muttered before marching off.

  ‘Wow!’ Wendy came out from behind some clothes, her eyes wide. ‘That’s one jealous young lady!’

  Clare laughed. ‘Don’t worry about it, I’m not going to.’

  And she didn’t. Belinda was so obviously suffering from unrequited interest that it wasn’t worth thinking about. Rourke was playing with the girl’s affections, but then that was none of her business, Belinda was old enough to take care of herself. More than old enough!

  What was her affair was the claim she had made that Harvey had left the ship completely. That was her business, and Clare went straight to the reception desk to confirm or deny the claim.

  She couldn’t believe it—but it was true! The girl on the desk told her that Harvey had booked out yesterday evening when he left the message for her. She wasn’t sure of the time, only that he was no longer staying on the Queen Mary.

  Clare wasn’t even aware of returning to her suite, she was too dazed to know what she was doing. Surely Harvey hadn’t moved in with her mother on the basis of such a short acquaintance? It was an impetuous act, and it didn’t sound like Harvey at all. None of this sounded like him, not the disappearing act, or his silence since.

  Once again she was tempted to telephone her mother, but once again she decided against it. She simply couldn’t talk to that women, couldn’t—

  ‘Clare?’ A knock sounded on the outside door, and Rourke’s voice was unmistakable. ‘Clare, can I talk to you?’

  She didn’t feel up to talking to anyone right now, she was too stunned by Harvey’s defection. ‘Could it wait until later?’

  ‘I’d rather it was now.’

  She sighed, and moved to open the door before sitting down again, too numb to care what Rourke thought of her behaviour.

  ‘The little bitch!’ he muttered, coming to stand in front of her. ‘I’m sorry, Clare. I wouldn’t have had you subjected to that for anything. When I get hold of her—’

  She gave an irritated frown. ‘What are you talking about, Rourke?’

  ‘Belinda,’ he growled. ‘Wendy told me how she spoke to you. I can see how it’s upset you.’ He frowned down at her.

  ‘No, you can’t, Rourke.’ Clare gave a brittle laugh. ‘The things your little girl-friend said meant nothing to me. Less than nothing.’

  ‘Then what—’

  The telephone began ringing, and Clare snatched up the receiver before it could ring a second time. ‘Harvey!’ she sighed her relief as she recognised his voice. ‘Harvey, where are you?’

  ‘So that’s it,’ Rourke rasped. ‘I’m sorry I bothered you.’ He moved to the door.

  ‘Rourke—’ Too late, he had gone, closing the door forcefully behind him. ‘No, Harvey, of course you haven’t interrupted anything,’ she said sharply. ‘Now where are you? The receptionist told me you’ve booked out.’

  ‘I have. Oh, Clare, I don’t know where to start, what to say,’ he groaned.

  She could hear the anguish in his voice. ‘Just tell me, Harvey,’ she encouraged softly.

  ‘I—I’m in Las Vegas—’

  ‘Las Vegas?’ she echoed shrilly.

  ‘Yes. I—I got married this afternoon, Clare.’

  Married! She couldn’t believe it. Harvey had married her mother!

  CHAPTER NINE

  ‘CLARE?’ Harvey’s anxiety came clearly down the telephone line. ‘Darling, are you all right?’

  ‘I—Yes,’ she swallowed hard. ‘You—you’re married?’

  ‘Yes,’ he sighed. ‘I never wanted to hurt you, Clare. I just couldn’t help myself.’

  ‘I understand,’ she said dully, knowing she didn’t understand at all. Harvey married to her mother!

  ‘I just couldn’t help it,’ he repeated softly, almost to himself. ‘As soon as I saw her—I just didn’t know what had hit me!’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Clare …? God, Clare, I wish I didn’t have to hurt you like this.’

  ‘It’s all right, Harvey. Really it is.’ Harvey was her stepfather! Not Rourke at all, but Harvey. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

  ‘As soon as I saw her again—’

  ‘Again?’ she echoed sharply. Surely Harvey had never met her mother before?

  ‘I haven’t explained myself very well,’ he said ruefully. ‘I’m just so—well, I’m not exactly myself.’

  She could tell that, could hear the ecstatic happiness in his voice. ‘Maybe you should explain, Harvey.’ After all, he owed her that much.

  ‘Well, I went to your mother’s yesterday afternoon—’

  ‘Yes, I know that.’

  ‘Somerville told you?’

  Clare blushed. ‘Yes. Harvey, about Rourke being in my room, that didn’t have anything to do with this—hasty marriage, did it?’

  ‘No,’ he laughed. ‘In fact, I’m not even going to ask what he was doing in your room.’

  ‘He—’

  ‘You don’t owe me any explanations, Clare,’ he cut in gently. ‘I knew from the first that there was something between you, and your mother told me—’

  ‘She told you?’ Clare cut in angrily. ‘She had no right to do that! It was years ago.’

  ‘But you still love him,’ Harvey said gently. ‘And your mother telling me Rourke was the man from the past helped me feel less guilty about letting you down the way I have.’

  Trust her mother, she never missed a trick! ’Carry on, Harvey,’ Clare sighed.

  ‘Well, your mother had a pool-party going on.’

  ‘She always does,’ Clare said dryly.

  ‘Mm, only this one was different. As soon as I saw Shara again I—’

  ‘Shara?’ she repeated sharply. ‘Your Shara?’

  He laughed huskily. ‘Well, she is now, but she wasn’t then.’

  ‘You’re married to Shara Morgan?’

  ‘Yes,’ he confirmed in a puzzled voice. ‘Who else would I be married to so suddenly?’

  Who else indeed? Her imagination had been working overtime. Her imagination and
her past knowledge of her mother.

  She gave a relieved laugh. ‘Congratulations, Harvey.’

  ‘You really mean that?’

  ‘I really do,’ she said sincerely. ‘You must be very happy.’

  ‘I am. I feel guilty about you, but—’

  ‘You have no need to feel that way. My mother was right,’ she lowered her voice in case Rourke should be in his suite, not wanting him to overhear the conversation, ’I did know Rourke in the past.’

  ‘And you might get back together now?’ he asked hopefully.

  ‘We might,’ she evaded, not wanting to mar Harvey’s happiness on his wedding day. She might have lost him, but he had Shara back, and she could tell how happy that made him. ‘Tell me about you and Shara,’ she encouraged.

  He was only too happy to talk about his brand-new wife. As soon as he and Shara had seen each other again they had known they had made a mistake splitting up four years ago. Shara realised that her career wasn’t enough, that she wanted Harvey too.

  ‘I couldn’t believe it, Clare,’ he added excitedly. ‘It was as if the last four years had never happened, as if we’d never been apart.’

  ‘I know, Harvey, I know,’ she said sadly.

  ‘God, I must sound so damned selfish to you,’ he misunderstood the reason for her sadness. ‘Our friendship meant a lot to me, Clare. I don’t want you to think it didn’t.’

  Friendship? Yes, that was truly all it was, with perhaps a little sexual attraction on Harvey’s side, but even that hadn’t been as strong on her part. ‘It meant a lot to me too, Harvey,’ she told him warmly. ‘You helped restore my faith in men, and believe me, it had taken a heavy knock.’

  ‘Somerville again?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘But everything is all right between you now?’

  ‘Yes,’ she agreed to put his mind at rest. ‘Does this mean I’ve lost my manager?’ she teased.

  ‘Oh lord, I hadn’t given that a thought—’

  ‘Of course you haven’t,’ she chuckled. ‘And I don’t expect you to. I’m thinking of taking a holiday after this film, anyway, so there won’t be anything to manage for a while. Now, you’d better get back to your bride. And give Shara my congratulations.’