Serpent in Paradise

by Rosemary Carter

  She was glad she had changed her clothes, for the dress struck just the right note of casual elegance she saw everywhere around her. Mrs Roland wore a simple two-piece jersey suit in dove-grey, beautifully cut, with a slim choker of pearls at the neck as her only adornment. Sloan had on well-fitting navy trousers with a silk shirt of a lighter blue that almost matched his eyes. The shirt was open at the neck, revealing the thrust of his throat. His hair was slightly damp, as if he had recently showered, and in the soft light of the table candelabrum his face was mellowed. So engrossed was he in his conversation with Emma that it was safe to look at him.

  He looked totally at home, Teri thought. A man in command of his surroundings, and at ease with himself. No stranger seeing the two at the table would realise that an employer was being briefed by a member of her staff on events that had taken place in her absence.

  Sloan turned his head quite suddenly, giving Teri no time to hide her eyes. He knows I've been staring at him, she thought, confused, and to her horror she felt a flush warm her cheeks. Damn the man, even the softening influence of the candlelight did not lessen an attractiveness that was at once devilish and dynamic.

  The effect he had on women must do marvels for his ego. Pity the poor woman who would choose to live with him, he must be insufferable. Was he married? She didn't know, and didn't want to know, she told herself crossly, wondering why on earth such a question had even entered her mind.

  CHAPTER THREE

  'We must be boring you, Teri,' said Sloan.

  'Not at all,' she smiled at him, determinedly meeting his eyes.

  'Know something about wine-making?'

  Testing me, are you? Her smile deepened disarmingly. 'I know very little, but I'm enormously interested. I plan to learn a lot more about wine.'

  'I'm glad.' Emma sounded oddly pleased.

  In Sloan's autocratic face there was no similar sign of joy. The sensuous lips tightened as the eyes assumed an expression that was little short of forbidding.

  You don't want me here, Teri thought. There's more to this than just a natural antipathy. You don't like me, you don't want me, and I wish I knew why.

  'Seems you chose the right person to come here with you, Emma,' she heard Sloan say.

  Emma. Teri hoped that her own face did not mirror her surprise. The ease with which Sloan called his employer Emma suggested an intimacy that she had not expected. Until now she had thought she would be able to avoid him; had assumed that he was present here tonight only because it was Mrs Roland's first day home and there was much to discuss. It was disconcerting to realise that there was a friendly relationship between these two, and that as a result she might be forced to see Sloan more often than she had reckoned with.

  'I know I chose the right person.' Dimly she registered Emma's response.

  'You didn't mention a companion.'

  Mrs Roland would reprimand him. Gracious lady that she was, she would nevertheless refuse to allow an employee to question her in such an insolent manner. For it was insolent, Teri thought, even though the tone of the words had been friendly enough.

  'Ah, Sloan, I echo Teri's earlier comment. There are things you don't know about me either.' Emma was laughing, and the glimmer of mischief Teri had glimpsed in her eyes at the start of the evening was in evidence again.

  'You intrigue me.' An answering smile curved the corners of strong lips, but the blue eyes were hooded.

  'Marvellous! You shouldn't mind, Sloan. You like pretty women, and you must admit my companion is lovely.'

  Teri forced herself to sit very still as Sloan's gaze returned to her, as it moved deliberately from her eyes to her mouth, lingering there for a moment before it moved downwards to where her breasts were a soft swell beneath the figure-hugging dress.

  'Lovely indeed,' he drawled.

  As before, on the surface a compliment, yet not a compliment at all. The blatant gaze infuriated her, and at the same time left her oddly shaken. Only Mrs Roland's presence at the table prevented her from lashing out with a furious retort.

  His eyes remained steady, they did not lift back to her face. For the second time that day Teri had the strangest feeling. Admiration from a male was nothing new, and at twenty-two she knew why. Beautiful as an angel, Andy had called her, but he had put her on a pedestal. Honey-coloured hair and slanting green eyes, combined with a body that was slender yet curvaceous, had drawn more earthy comments from other men. Teri had learned to fend off unwanted passes, to lighten a heavy moment with a joke.

  Though she felt sure that Sloan was undressing her mentally, his scrutiny was different from anything she had ever experienced. It was almost as if he was studying her dress, and not just the body it clothed. And that was ridiculous, she thought, and wished her heart would stop thudding against her ribs.

  The plate fell suddenly. Jill must have tried a little too hard to push a piece of lamb on to her spoon, and the plate slid past her and on to the ground.

  'Oh dear!' Teri was out of her chair in a moment, and kneeling on the carpet.

  'Let it be,' she heard Emma's reassuring voice, but she did not heed it as she went on picking up fallen bits of food. She regretted the accident, yet she could not help being glad of the chance it gave her to conceal her confusion at Sloan's manner. By the time she had straightened she had regained her composure.

  'I'm sorry about this.' Though Teri's eyes were solely on Emma, she was acutely aware of the silent man watching her.

  'Not your fault, Teri, Jill's a baby.'

  'She is, and she should really be eating off plastic plates. It's what she's used to. From now on it would be best.'

  'I'm not sure we have any,' Emma said doubtfully, and Teri suppressed a smile of amusement. In the little Johannesburg flat, Mrs Roland had led the life of an ordinary mortal, but Vins Doux had the look of a place on which the invention of plastic had yet to make its mark.

  'Could I get some? Cape Town's a little far, I know, but perhaps there's something nearer.'

  'I'll ask Johan to pick something up for you,' Emma offered.

  'No need for that,' Sloan interposed. 'Teri's probably the best judge of what she needs, and as I'm driving into the city tomorrow morning she might as well come along.'

  The words were addressed to Emma. Almost as if she herself were invisible, Teri thought. She opened her mouth to say no, only to check the refusal. She was overreacting, and she knew why. The thought of being in Sloan's company, alone, was unnerving. But she could not let him know it, so she quietly said, 'That may be a good idea.'

  'We'll leave here around nine.' With the matter disposed of, Sloan seemed to forget her as he reverted to the subject of the export market for wines. Which suited her, Teri decided firmly. She would go with him tomorrow, she could hardly do otherwise without making herself look foolish. But the less contact she had with the too self-assured Mr Sloan Garfield in the future, the better.

  Dinner was over, and they were in the living-room drinking coffee, when Sloan glanced at his watch.

  'You're going already?' Emma asked.

  'I'm afraid so.' He frowned. 'I'm sorry to cut things short like this your first evening back, Emma, but I'd bought tickets for a show before I knew the date of your return.'

  'Don't be sorry. Going with anyone I know?'

  His face was impassive. 'Miranda Hanson.'

  'Of course.' Emma's voice was light. 'It's still quite early, Sloan. Why not stay just a little longer?'

  'I'd like that, but there's something I must still see to. As it is, I just have time to get back to my—quarters.'

  There seemed to be a slight emphasis on the last word, but Teri had no time to ponder the significance of that, for Emma said, 'Then we must certainly not keep you,' and in her voice there was the suggestion of laughter.

  The door closed behind the tall figure of the man, and Teri felt her stomach muscles relax. Till this moment she had not realised quite how tense she had been.

  From a velvet-covered armchair came a sigh;
Jill had fallen asleep while the adults were talking. Remorsefully Teri went over to the sleeping child. Looking down at her, she wondered how Sloan's presence could have affected her to the exclusion of anything else.

  'Poor mite,' came Emma's comment from behind her. 'She's had a long day.'

  'And it's way past her bedtime. I think I'll take her to her room.'

  'Will you wake her?' There was compassion in the older woman's eyes.

  'No, I'll carry her, and put her into her bed just as she is. I won't even try to brush her teeth, she'd be very tearful if I did, and it won't matter if she sleeps in her clothes for once.'

  'Come back when Jill is settled, and we'll have another cup of coffee.'

  Teri smiled from the doorway, the sleeping child in her arms. 'I'd like that.'

  Jill didn't wake, as her sister had known she wouldn't. In the huge primrose-quilted bed, with her beloved teddy by her side, the little girl looked even smaller than usual, and very vulnerable. Heart going out to her, Teri bent and gently stroked a strand of damp hair from her forehead before kissing it. 'Be happy at Vins Doux,' she whispered.

  Returning to the living-room, she found Emma Roland leaning back in a chair, eyes closed. At the sound of Teri's footsteps she opened them.

  'Past your own bedtime, I think,' Teri smiled.

  'Just napping. It's been a long day for me too, but I couldn't go to bed yet.' Emma poured coffee and handed a cup to Teri. 'Tell me what you think of Vins Doux.'

  'It's wonderful, beyond anything I expected.' Teri could have elaborated, but there were other things on her mind. She looked directly into eyes that were warm and grey, and waiting for her. 'You didn't tell me Sloan would be here.'

  'No.'

  'I asked you about him.'

  'You asked if he had something to do with my decision to go home, and I told you the decision was my own.'

  'That's right.' Teri felt uncertain, but she stood her ground notwithstanding. 'You didn't mention that he would be here. And he obviously didn't know I was coming. Why didn't you say something, Mrs Roland?'

  'Emma, please. Sloan calls me that, I think you should too.'

  'Emma.' Teri tested the word on her tongue and was glad that the other woman had found a way of telling her that if she was now her employer she was nevertheless still her friend. 'Thank you, Emma. About Sloan…'

  'Would you have come if you'd known?'

  'No!' emphatically.

  A soft laugh. 'I wanted you to come. I was taking no chances.'

  Teri could not help a laugh of her own. 'I've said before that you're a woman of guile.'

  'Not of the malicious kind, I hope. Tell me, Teri, why do the sparks fly between you and Sloan?'

  'You noticed…'

  'I may be getting on, but I'm not blind, dear, and there are certain things I remember very well from my own youth.'

  Do you know what it's like to feel that every one of your nerves is tingling? That the air can be so electric that you sense you could touch it? Do you know what it's like to be alive to a man's sexuality and yet feel that you never want to see him again?

  Tautly Teri stared at Emma. 'There seems to be a personality clash,' she agreed.

  'What happened this afternoon?'

  'Sloan found me sleeping against the rock. He woke me and put the fear of God in me.'

  'Just as well. I should have warned you myself. That was all, Teri?'

  Teri was silent as she gazed into the fireplace where a fire had been lit, and thought of the undercurrents in the afternoon's interchange.

  Emma spoke into the silence. 'Sparks then too?'

  'In a way, yes.'

  'I don't understand why. It was only your second meeting, and in my flat you said barely three words to each other.'

  Teri looked up with a wry grin. 'We'd met before.'

  'Really!'

  'On my way to you that day. I threw mud at Sloan's car.'

  Emma's eyes were wide with delighted disbelief. 'Teri, you couldn't have!'

  'I did.'

  As Teri recounted the incident Emma began to laugh. She was still laughing when Teri fell silent. At last Emma wiped the tears from her eyes.

  'Something new for Sloan,' she said when she could talk. 'Not one of his other women would dream of meting out such treatment. On the contrary, they tend to do the Walter Raleigh act with him—they'd cheerfully prostrate themselves on the ground and let him step over them if that would give them the attention they wanted.'

  'They must be a bunch of idiots,' Teri said stiffly. 'And I'm not one of Sloan's women.'

  'You're not,' Emma agreed.

  'I'm afraid what happened has tainted me for ever in his eyes.'

  'I don't believe it. Sloan's sense of humour has never let him down yet,' Emma said briskly.

  'If he saw a funny side to what happened, he certainly hasn't let me know it.'

  'Hm.' Emma looked thoughtful. 'Why did you let him think Jill was your child?'

  'Because of his reaction.' Just the memory of that reaction, the chill in Sloan's voice when he'd said, 'I didn't know you had a child, Miss Malloy,' with that hateful emphasis on the word 'miss', made her angry again now.

  'He drew his conclusions, I admit, but they were natural in the circumstances,' Emma pointed out.

  'I've no argument with that.' Green eyes sparkled with a look that Emma Roland would come to know well. 'He judged me, Emma, and he had no right to do that.'

  'Perhaps not. Will you tell him the truth when you see him tomorrow?'

  'I might.' The look Teri cast Emma was so filled with unconscious pleading that the older woman thought few male hearts could have withstood it. 'If I don't, keep my secret, please, Emma.'

  Grey eyes danced. 'I'm good at secrets.'

  'I don't understand.'

  'Of course not. Well, Teri dear, if you and Sloan decide to keep the sparks going between you, I can see that life at Vins Doux will be interesting.'

  Honey-coloured hair bounced as Teri jerked up. 'I hope I won't have to see him often.'

  'He's driving you into town tomorrow.'

  'Other than that… I'll be with you here in the house, or in the gardens, and Sloan spends his time in the vineyards. I gather he's some kind of foreman?'

  'He—sees to things.'

  'Almost the same words that Sloan had used.' It was time to divert the subject from Sloan Garfield. 'Emma, I was thinking, perhaps we could hook a wall-hanging?'

  Emma's ready laugh sounded against the crackle of the fire. 'You'll be keeping me busy, child!'

  'You're so good with your hands and they're fun to do.' Teri looked around doubtfully, sensing that a home-crafted piece would be out of place amidst the antique splendours of Vins Doux. 'On second thoughts, I suppose there'd be nowhere to hang it.'

  'Jill's room could do with a pretty thing. A nursery scene perhaps,' Emma suggested. 'I think I'd enjoy rug-hooking. Why don't you get something when you're in town tomorrow?'

  Before getting into bed that night Teri went into Jill's room. The little girl had moved in her sleep and the unaccustomed quilt had slid from her legs. As Teri covered her, she wondered how long it would take for Jill to grow used to the new room. Such a beautiful room it was, but an adults' room, not a nursery. A scene designed especially for children would make a big difference.

  Emma's suggestion held a hint of permanence. A temporary kind of permanence anyway, if there was logic in such a thought. Teri and Jill would not live with Emma always, but several months would give some much-needed stability to Jill, and a breathing-space to her sister.

  It was a thought that should bring happiness, and in fact it did bring relief. But there was also doubt. If only there was no Sloan Garfield at Vins Doux. No serpent in paradise. Perhaps he would leave, decide to work elsewhere. And that was wishful thinking indeed, Teri told herself as she slid between the sheets.

  'Just going shopping,' Teri muttered crossly to herself as she stood before the array of new clothes in the wardrobe. />
  So why was she so indecisive? Jill was dressed and ready and amusing herself by opening and closing the drawers of an antique tallboy. And still Teri had not decided what to wear.

  The pink slack-suit was what she had had in mind. Pretty, practical, it was the kind of outfit she would have chosen to wear for a shopping trip with Andy. But Sloan Garfield was not Andy.

  A vision came into her mind. Sloan. Tall and sinuous, altogether too good-looking for his own ego; and for the peace of mind of any woman who found herself in his company.

  There was another vision. Miranda—the unseen Miranda. She would be slim and elegant, sophisticated.

  As she herself could be sophisticated, Teri decided. Sophisticated in a manner befitting Mrs Roland's companion. She would command Sloan's respect even if she could not have his liking.

  Making her choice with sudden decisiveness, she reached for one of her new outfits. The dress, a daringly attractive mix of red and orange, had narrow shoulder straps and a wide belt. A white jacket went over it and a chunky necklace fitted snugly around the slender throat.

  Time to turn her attention to her hair. Sloan had only seen it worn down. On the infamous day of the mud-slinging it had been caught back in a snood; since her arrival at Vins Doux it had hung loose, swinging on her shoulders in a silken honey swathe. Drawing it up and back from her face, she coiled it in a chignon, with just a few strands loose on either side to counter any undue severity. Her make-up was equally deft—eyes darkened and shaded, and a lipstick that went well with the colours of the dress.

  All that was left was to assume an appearance of elegant poise. Lifting her head, Teri took Jill by the hand and glided from the room, legs and hips and shoulders moving in graceful unison.

  Sloan was waiting for her at the foot of the wide stone steps. He was leaning against the silver car she had abused at their first meeting, his jacket slung negligently over one shoulder. Legs, clad in immaculate brown trousers, were crossed one over the other. A silk shirt of a slightly darker colour somehow contrived to suggest the muscularity of broad chest and shoulders.