Elusive Lover

by Carole Mortimer

  ‘Yes. But the damned article appeared anyway,’ he scowled.

  ‘Gerald Parker——’

  ‘No, not him, or Matt either. No one at the gallery, otherwise they wouldn’t still have my paintings. Someone at the hotel made money out of that little story,’ he said grimly.

  ‘You didn’t——’

  ‘No, I didn’t have them sacked,’ he taunted. ‘The hotel management—dealt with him themselves.’

  ‘In other words, he was dismissed,’ Erin said dryly.

  He shrugged. ‘I have no idea, but in their shoes that’s the action I would take. A place like that can’t employ people they can’t trust.’

  ‘I suppose not,’ she agreed grudgingly. ‘Where are we going?’ She looked about them curiously.

  ‘To my hotel.’

  ‘No!’

  ‘Oh yes,’ Josh told her firmly. ‘I want to talk to you, and I don’t intend doing it in the back of a car.’

  Erin fell silent, letting Josh take hold of her arm as they entered the hotel and went up in the lift to his suite. She owed it to him to at least talk to him; after that she would never see him again.

  ‘Now tell me,’ he swung her round to face him as soon as they entered the suite, ‘why did you walk out on me?’ ‘I didn’t walk out on you!’

  ‘I don’t know what else you’d call it!’ he exploded, looking furiously angry. ‘Unless of course you ran!’

  Today he looked more like the Josh from Canada. The formal suit he had worn on the flight over here had been discarded in favour of lightweight black slacks and a dark green shirt, the latter casually unbuttoned down his chest.

  Erin still found it difficult to believe that she and this man had made love, that Josh had possessed her, that for long timeless minutes they had been one person.

  There was no evidence that Josh even remembered such a time as he continued to glare at her, his eyes deepening in colour at her continued silence.

  ‘Okay, so you couldn’t stand being around me any more,’ he began to pace the room, ‘but you didn’t have to leave without telling me, sneak off while I was out.’

  ‘I left you a note.’

  ‘Oh yes,’ he scorned. ‘ “Goodbye, Josh. Thank you”,’ he quoted. ‘Very enlightening!’

  Erin shrugged. ‘I didn’t have anything else to say.’

  ‘No,’ he sighed, ‘I don’t suppose you did. But why didn’t you call me, at least let me know you were all right?’

  ‘Because——’

  ‘Because you aren’t! You——’

  ‘Will you let me talk!’ Her eyes flashed. ‘I’m nineteen years old, Josh, and in this country that means I’m an adult.’

  ‘You don’t act like one,’ he muttered gloweringly.

  ‘Don’t I?’ Her voice was brittle. ‘Don’t you consider it adult to walk away from a situation that can only be embarrassing—to both people concerned?’

  He seemed to be fighting a battle within himself, seeming about to speak several times and then changing his mind. ‘You still could have called me,’ he finally mumbled. ‘I didn’t enjoy having a third party involved in my search for you. But I had no idea how to start looking for you myself.’

  ‘How did he find me?’

  ‘By a lot of hard work,’ Josh revealed harshly. ‘You could have been dead for all I knew!’ His hand shook as he ran it through the dark thickness of his hair.

  ‘Josh——’

  ‘I tried all the hospitals and morgues first,’ he told her in a haunted voice.

  ‘Oh, Josh, you had no need——’

  ‘I had every need, damn you!’ he turned on her viciously. ‘You were my responsibility——’

  ‘But I didn’t want to be—I don’t want to be. I have somewhere to live, I have a job, and I’m well. There, are you satisfied?’ she asked bitterly.

  ‘Are you eating?’

  ‘Oh, for God’s sake!’ She walked wearily to the door. ‘How many times do I have to tell you I am not Sharon? I’m eating, I’m sleeping, I’m surviving without the great Joshua Hawke watching over me. Now can I go?’

  ‘Erin . . .’

  ‘Can I go?’ she repeated firmly.

  ‘I suppose so,’ he sighed defeatedly.

  She turned at the door, hesitating. ‘Good luck with your exhibition.’

  He gave her a sharp look. ‘Aren’t you coming?’

  She shrugged. ‘I may go one day, if I get time.’ ‘Tomorrow night,’ he said abruptly. ‘I have a private showing for the critics, buyers, and a few friends. I want you to be there.’

  ‘No——’

  ‘Yes!’ he rasped. ‘Surely it isn’t too much to ask?’

  She avoided his searching gaze, not wanting him to know exactly how ‘too much’ it was. ‘I may have to work . . .’

  ‘Please, Erin,’ his tone was huskily persuasive. ‘I need— I want you to be there.’

  She bit her bottom lip, fighting a war within herself, tempted beyond endurance to agree to being able to see him once more, but knowing the pain of parting would only be all the harder to bear. Temptation won. ‘All right, I’ll come,’ she told him softly. ‘But after that will you accept that I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself, that I don’t want to be anyone’s responsibility?’

  ‘Yes,’ he agreed stiffly. ‘I’ll call for you——’

  ‘No,’ she shook her head stubbornly.

  ‘Then I’ll send a car for you.’

  ‘I’ll make my own way there,’ she insisted.

  ‘Erin——’

  ‘Josh!’ She met his gaze steadily.

  An unwilling grin lightened his features. ‘I guess you are an adult after all.’

  ‘I would have thought you already knew that!’ The remark came out before she could stop herself, and she bit her lips as his humour faded.

  ‘Yes,’ he acknowledged bitterly. ‘Seven-thirty tomorrow. You know where the gallery is?’

  ‘I know,’ she nodded.

  Luckily the next day was pay-day, and Erin used her lunch-hour to go out and buy a new dress, knowing that the people at this party tonight would be important to Josh. And if any of them read the newspapers they would know she had arrived from Canada with him, and she had no intention of embarrassing Josh by arriving looking anything but her best.

  She bought a black gown, figure-hugging, with a deep vee between her breasts, their firm swell just visible to anyone who cared to look closely enough. Her hair was newly washed, her make-up light on her tanned skin. She looked young and alluring, and she knew Josh would have no reason to feel ashamed of her appearance.

  The gallery was firmly closed to the public until tomorrow, although the man on the door soon showed her inside once she had given him her name. The room was full of people, all of them drinking champagne as they walked from painting to painting. They were as brilliant as always, and she could hear the murmur of appreciation from the other people present.

  ‘Where the hell have you been?’

  Erin slowly turned to face Josh, a little surprised by his attitude. ‘I’ve been right here,’ she answered calmly, her breath catching in her throat at how attractive he looked in the black evening suit, its cut across his broad shoulders superb.

  ‘For how long?’ he scowled.

  ‘About five minutes,’ she answered in a puzzled voice.

  ‘You were late,’ he accused..

  ‘Only about ten minutes——’

  ‘I should have been told you’d arrived,’ he muttered almost to himself.

  ‘Don’t be silly, Josh,’ she dismissed lightly. ‘In this crowd I’m surprised you noticed me at all.’

  His eyes suddenly became a deep, dark green. ‘Oh, I noticed you. You look beautiful, Erin.’

  ‘Thank you,’ she blushed her pleasure.

  ‘I——’

  ‘Josh, Atkins would like to congratulate you.’ A man of about thirty appeared at his side.

  Josh glowered at him. ‘Atkins will have to wait——�
�

  ‘You mean Adam Atkins?’ Erin couldn’t resist her gasp of astonishment.

  The newcomer looked at her for the first time, his appraisal appreciative. ‘I don’t think we’ve been introduced . . .’ he said charmingly.

  ‘Erin Richards, Matthew Smythe,’ Josh introduced tersely.

  Matthew Smythe smiled. ‘Of course, I should have recognised you,’ he shook his head, his grasp firm.

  ‘Recognised me?’ she blinked. ‘Oh, of course—the newspapers. I’m not surprised you didn’t, I hardly recognised myself,’ she returned his smile. ‘How are your wife and son?’

  ‘It was a daughter,’ Matthew laughed. ‘Gerald has no sense of the occasion.’

  ‘ “All babies look alike",’ Erin quoted with a laugh, then the laughter died in her throat as Josh scowled down at them. ‘ Was it Adam Atkins you were talking about?’ she repeated.

  ‘Yes,’ Matt nodded. ‘He thinks this is Josh’s best yet. And I have to agree with him. It’s a damned masterpiece.’

  ‘But, Josh, you can’t keep a man like that waiting,’ Erin told him in a scandalised voice. Adam Atkins was the most renowned critic in the world. He could make or break someone like Josh, despite Josh’s own importance. ‘You have no need to stay with me,’ she assured him. ‘I’m just going to have a walk around.’

  ‘Matt——’

  ‘I’ll take care of Erin,’ the other man offered instantly, ‘Atkins is over by——’

  ‘I can see him,’ Josh said abruptly. ‘Erin, I’ll be back in a few minutes. You won’t disappear, will you?’

  ‘Of course not.’

  ‘Good.’ He bent and kissed her slightly on the mouth before walking over to the art critic, and the two of them instantly became engaged in conversation.

  Erin’s cheeks were coloured a delicate pink. Why on earth had Josh kissed her in front of all these people? She could see people giving her curious looks even now, and the conversation in the room suddenly seemed all the more intense. And she recognised some of the people present as the reporters who had met them at the airport!

  ‘Josh shouldn’t have asked you to stay with me, Mr Smythe,’ she said awkwardly. ‘I’m sure you must have plenty of other people to talk to. Please feel free to leave me.’

  ‘Certainly not!’ He drew her hand through the crook of his arm. ‘Let’s go and get some champagne and then I’ll take you round and introduce you to everyone.’

  She accepted the glass of champagne, sipping at the bubbly liquid. ‘I’d rather look at Josh’s paintings next, if you don’t mind,’ she said shyly.

  He gave her a surprised look. ‘You haven’t already seen them?’

  She gave a light laugh. ‘Only on the back of Josh’s pickup, in a crate.’

  ‘Oh, I see,’ he nodded. ‘In that case I’d be honoured to take you round.’

  The paintings were beautiful—about thirty in all, each one a true work of art, most of them depicting the beauty of Canada, one or two of them of the Indians of old, a couple more of a rodeo in action, the bucking horse almost seeming to leap off the canvas.

  ‘And now for the masterpiece everyone is talking about,’ Matt said excitedly. ‘But of course you’ve seen that.’

  ‘No, I——’ Her denial froze in her throat, all colour draining from her face as she looked at the painting that had place of honour in the gallery, the lights picking up every brush-stroke.

  It was the painting of a woman, her skin very white against the blue velvet sheet she reclined on, the sunlight revealing every naked curve, the breasts firm and uptilting, the waist slender, the thighs curving out gently, the legs long and shapely. Only the face was in shadow, turned away from the artist, the features merely hinted at, framed by blonde wavy hair, looking almost gold in the sunlight. Yes, the features were in shadow, but Erin knew the painting to be of herself—and she knew everyone else in the room knew it too! At least it had a ‘NOT FOR SALE’ notice on it!

  She turned blindly, her only thoughts ones of escape. Josh had completed the painting after all, had painted her nakedness for all to see. And he hadn’t called it Innocence either; the title beneath the painting had been Elusive Lover.

  ‘Erin!’ Matthew Smythe grasped her arm. ‘Erin, are you all right?’

  ‘Yes,’ she told him through stiff lips. ‘I—I have to go.’

  ‘Come with me.’ He led her into an office, sitting her down in an armchair, taking the glass of champagne out of her numbed fingers. ‘I think you need something stronger than that.’ He moved to an array of drinks on the side cupboard. ‘Here,’ he handed her a glass of brandy.

  Erin sipped it, not even noticing the fiery liquid passing down her throat. Josh had painted her naked! Had invited her here to witness her humiliation.

  Matt moved to sit on the edge of the desk, watching her concernedly. ‘You didn’t know, did you?’

  ‘No,’ she gave a bitter, choked laugh, ‘no, I didn’t know.’

  ‘It’s a masterpiece, Erin——’

  ‘It’s me!’ she corrected shrilly. ‘Me, lying there naked, for all to see!’

  ‘It’s you painted through the eyes of someone who loves you——’

  ‘No,’ she shook her head, ‘it’s me painted by someone who lusted after me. Elusive Lover,’ she choked. ‘It’s obvious that can’t have been true!’

  ‘There are different ways of being elusive. Erin——’

  ‘Please!’ She stood up. ‘I have to leave.’ She put the glass down. ‘But not through there,’ her voice broke emotionally, ‘I couldn’t face all those people again. Do you have a side-door I could leave by?’

  ‘Yes. But——’

  ‘Could you please show it to me? I have to get out of here.’

  ‘I can’t let you leave like this——’

  ‘You can’t stop me,’ she choked.

  ‘At least let me get someone to drive you home? Please, Erin, I would feel better if you did.’

  ‘All right,’ she sighed. ‘But please make it quickly.’

  ‘Two minutes,’ he promised.

  How could Josh have done this to her! He had told her he couldn’t do the painting, that somehow it wouldn’t come together. He had lied to her! He had painted her in minute detail, even down to the silvery scar left by her appendix operation as a child.

  ‘Erin.’

  She spun round to confront Josh. ‘I’m leaving,’ she told him abruptly. ‘Matthew is getting someone to drive me home.’

  ‘Me.’ He quietly closed the door behind him, instantly shutting out the noise of the party.

  ‘You?’ she blinked. ‘But——’

  ‘I’m going to drive you home,’ he told her quietly.

  ‘No!’ She shook her head, looking at him with tear-filled

  eyes.

  Josh shut his eyes as if to shut out pain. ‘I can’t believe this is happening,’ he groaned.

  ‘Neither can I,’ Erin said bitterly.

  He put a hand up to his temple as if it ached. ‘Matt said you believe I painted you out of lust, to hurt you.’

  ‘Well, didn’t you?’ she accused.

  ‘Of course not. You know how I feel about you——’

  ‘So do all the people out there,’ she waved her arm in the direction of the gallery. ‘The whole world will know by tomorrow!’

  He sighed. ‘That was the idea.’

  ‘I’m sure it was,’ she snapped. ‘Joshua Hawke, the great lover,’ she scorned.

  ‘I wasn’t so great with you, was I? You couldn’t even look at me afterwards.’

  Colour flooded her pale cheeks. ‘And all you could do was say you were sorry!’

  ‘What else could I do?’ he rasped. ‘I would have got down on my knees and apologised, begged your forgiveness, if I thought it would do any good, if I thought it would change anything, but it was too late for that.’ ‘Much too late,’ she agreed bitterly.

  He turned away. ‘Hell, I gambled everything on that painting. I thought it would tell you—
show you——’

  Erin frowned, not understanding the raw pain in his voice. ‘Show me what, Josh? Tell me what?’ she asked sharply.

  He sighed, shaking his head. ‘You remember I couldn’t paint you? Well, after I’d made love to you I realised why.’

  ‘Lust!’ she dismissed scornfully.

  ‘No,’ he denied angrily. ‘You see, I kept working on the face first—I daren’t trust myself to paint your body,’ he added ruefully. ‘And I found it impossible to paint your face. There’s no one expression I love the best, no way I could paint the face of the woman I loved, because I love every feature, every smiling, scowling feature. Even now the painting doesn’t quite have features.’

  ‘Josh, I’m not understanding any of this,’ she shook her head. ‘Are you saying you love me?’

  ‘You know damn well I do!’

  ‘No——’

  ‘Of course you do,’ he scowled.

  ‘No—I—How long have you loved me?’

  ‘For ever, I think,’ he groaned.

  ‘Seriously, Josh,’ she said breathlessly.

  ‘I am being serious. I can’t remember a time when I didn’t love you.’

  ‘When we made love——’

  ‘God, how I loved you then! And you hated the sight of me. I’d been fighting making love to you for days, that’s why I had to spend so much time in the studio, and when you came to me that night I just couldn’t fight any longer. I wanted you, I loved you, I had to have you. I couldn’t stop myself.’

  ‘But I didn’t want you to. Josh, I—I love you too. I have for weeks.’

  He searched her eager face disbelievingly, his hands coming out to grasp her shoulders. ‘You wouldn’t be playing with me, would you?’ he asked tentatively.

  ‘Never,’ she shook her head, her gaze locked with his. ‘I loved you that night too, I loved you before then. But even when we were—well, even then you didn’t mention loving me,’ she blushed prettily.

  ‘Neither did you.’

  ‘But I—Well, I was afraid.’

  ‘So was I.’

  Her eyes widened. ‘You were?’

  Josh gave a rueful smile. ‘I’ve never been in love before, I didn’t know how to handle it.’

  She gave him a shy look beneath lowered lashes. ‘We’ve been fools, haven’t we?’