Tawny Sands

by Violet Winspear

  `You know it's true.' She spoke rather stormily, for it seemed to her that he could only want her company so he could use his wit upon her. 'Besides, I have no dress suit-

  able for a night club.'

  She was walking away from him when she felt the sudden warm crush of his hands upon her shoulders. He swung her to face him, and for a shocking moment she was close to his lithe black-clad body ... and it was like being close to a panther.

  `Let go of me !'

  `How charmingly naive!'

  `I happen to mean it.' She struggled, and in so doing found herself more perilously close to him than before. She glanced up wildly, straight into his eyes with their deep Spanish fire, their smouldering passions and intentions. She felt boneless, on the edge of some undreamed-of danger.

  `The moth struggles and finds itself closer still to the flame,' he taunted.

  `You have no right to—to behave like this !'

  `Am I hurting you?'

  `You are frightening me.'

  `Why, has no man ever held you at his mercy before?'

  `Y-you mock me as if you have the right to do so. As if I have no right to refuse your invitation. Has no woman ever refused you before?'

  `Of course. I am not so vain as to imagine myself resist-less, but it struck me that you are a girl who lives in the make-believe world created by Madam Noyes and that if you aren't careful life will pass you by and you will find yourself unable to escape from a woman who cares only about herself. Perhaps in holding you so you can't escape I prove my point?'

  `Perhaps.' Her voice trembled. 'But how can you know so much about me? I haven't seen you since the other day. You never seem to dine at the hotel.'

  `I stay at the hotel because it is in the vicinity of my cousin's villa. I like to dine with Rachael and her small sons. Sometimes I visit the Persian Room, or the Casino.'

  `Where you have seen Mildred! '

  `En verdad. And heard of the young girl she keeps

  chained to a typewriter.'

  `She hasn't mentioned you to me, senor.'

  `I venture to suggest that Mildred Noyes regards you as a servant, not as a confidante.'

  Janna bit her lip. Though the words were rather cruel, they were true. She was a typist and runabout, and so fearfully lonely at times that she hummed those orphanage songs to herself as she typed page after page of improbable romance in a setting all too wonderful to really exist.

  `Do you deny the truth of what I say, Miss Smith?'

  `So you even know my name.'

  `Are you hinting that you would like to know mine?' `I shouldn't mind knowing.'

  `You are curious about me, eh?' His teeth gleamed white against his tawny skin. 'Now don't make a denial. Blue eyes are as easy to read as the heavens.'

  `I should think the heavens more impenetrable than a coalmine.' She smiled and thought his eyes as dark as coal. `Men have gone down to the depths.'

  `Men are now flying to the stars, but that is beside the point.' He removed his hands from her shoulders, leaving their warmth behind, and gave her a brief, foreign bow. `I am Raul Cesar de Romans, at your service. In Morocco, where my home is, I have the name of Raul Cesar Bey. My grandmother is the Princess Yamila, of the desert province of El Amara.' His dark eyes held Janna's. 'Perhaps you were wise to feel somewhat afraid of me. In my veins runs the inclination to treat women as if they are pomegranates to be plucked from the wall of an enclosed court. Our villa in the desert is known as the House of the Pomegranate.'

  From the beginning, from the first moment of looking at him, Janna had sensed that there was something unusual about the man. Now she knew why. The blood of a Moresque princess ran in his veins. He was proud, arrogant, and demanding because he was of the tawny desert.

  `Raul ... Raul ...' that lovely woman had wept, and Janna had known from the start that he was a man who

  turned away from the tears of women, but not from their kisses.

  `You look a trifle awestruck,' he drawled. 'I assure you that the people of El Amara don't wipe their foreheads on my boots. I am—as we say in the desert—only a man, and all men are equal in the eyes of those who love them.'

  Her blue eyes dwelt on his lean, handsome face and she wondered if he lived like a prince of the desert, and whether a cluster of pretty young women awaited eagerly his return to the House of the Pomegranate.

  He smiled, as if reading her mind. 'Are you now satisfied that I am suitable to dine with? Or are you made doubtful, in case I carry you off to my harem?'

  `Have you one ' And there she broke off in confusion,

  biting back the words, the colour reaching her temples where tendrils of her hair clustered like honey.

  `In my country, Miss Smith, such a question is never asked of a man.' He looked wicked. 'It would be considered as impolite as asking an Englishman how much money he has in the bank.'

  `I beg your pardon

  `As a penance you will come out with me. Tell me, does Madam Noyes go to the Casino tomorrow evening?'

  `Yes, always on a Friday. She calls it her lucky night.'

  `Excellent. You will creep away tomorrow night without telling her you have a date, and we will meet here on the esplanade. My hired car is a Silver Cloud, so you will not mistake it.'

  `But why do we meet in secret?' Janna asked, intrigued, not to say alarmed. What if he did mean to carry her off to some hideaway? It was not unheard of, but the girls involved were usually much more seductive than she could pretend to be. Mildred insisted that she was quite plain; the shy sort men never noticed.

  `Your employer matches her name,' he said explicitly, `and I don't wish half the Côte d'Azur to gossip about us.'

  `Because I'm only a typist)' Janna's blue eyes held a flash of angry pain. 'I might be only that, but I have my pride and I can bear not having the honour of a Cinderella dance with a prince. It might make me dissatisfied, afterwards.'

  `Little fool!' His dark eyes held anger for a burning moment. 'I ask you to meet me because it is important. I ask that it be in secret because I have a sound reason. I give you exactly two minutes to say yes or no to me.'

  He stood there frowning, but Janna was determined not to be quailed by his arrogance, or his liking for his own way. She would not let his fascination blind her to the fact that he could also be cruel.

  `Why is it important?' she asked.

  `You are a woman and therefore inquisitive. If you want so much to know, then meet me tomorrow night. Come with me to the Persian Room and have your curiosity assuaged.'

  The Persian Room?' Her eyes filled with wonder. She had heard of the famous restaurant and been dazzled by tales of its splendour. Only the very wealthy could afford to dine there, and the man who invited her to go there with him was Raul Cesar Bey. Her heart turned over with excitement. How could she refuse? She could only give in and obey him.

  `Very well,' she said, in a breathless voice, 'I'll meet you.'

  `I shall be waiting.' He gave her his brief, foreign bow. `And now return alone to the hotel. I don't doubt that Madam Noyes will be on the watch for you.'

  `Goodbye—' Janna fled from him, pursued by a little demon that nipped at her for being so impetuous as to become involved with such a man. Mildred—if told—would be flabbergasted. When she recovered from her indignation at not being the one invited to dine with him, she would declare that he was out to seduce her innocent foolish secretary.

  Janna was half afraid of that herself. He came from the desert, and he was handsome in a most dangerous way. She

  gave a gasp as she ran blindly into a smother of mimosa ... perhaps it would be wise, after all, to break her promise to meet him?

  CHAPTER TWO

  JANNA told herself that it wouldn't break Don Raul's heart if she broke their date ... and then the box arrived from a famous dress shop on the smartest boulevard of the Cote d'Azur. It came by messenger during Mildred's siesta and was addressed plainly to Miss Janna Smith.

  Feeling mystified, intrigued, and
slightly alarmed, Janna carried the large square box into her bedroom and quietly turned the key in the lock of the door. She placed the box on her bed and stood looking at it, rather as if she thought it contained a snake.

  Across the front of the box in gold script was the name of the shop from which it came. Even Mildred didn't buy her dresses there, not only because the prices were very high, but because the style was beautiful, tasteful, and stunning in a way that didn't hit you between the eyes.

  In her twenty years Janna had received very few presents, and this was either a present (surely not from Mildred) or a mistake. She took a step nearer to the box, then another, and suddenly with excited hands she was lifting the lid, folding back the layers of soft tissue, and gasping at the lovely contents. She drew out the dress, which tippled soft and silky and was the colour of moonlight, with hazy, subtle hints of blue. She turned to the mirror and held the dress against her by the slender jewelled shoulder-straps, and she could tell right away that it was her size.

  Heart quickly beating, she sought in the dress box for a card, and found it tucked away inside one of the silver slippers that came with the dress. She took it from the envelope and read what was written upon it with bated breath.

  Señorita Smith,

  I am not exactly like the traditional Goody-Two-Shoes of the fables, but when Cinderella goes to the Persian Room she likes to look a princess. Please accept the enclosed, which I am assured will not fall into tatters at the stroke of midnight. Perhaps in your own country there is a convention which says a girl should not accept a pretty dress from a man, but in Morocco it gives us pleasure to just give.

  I shall be waiting for you in the Pumpkin, at half-past eight tonight.

  Till then,

  Raul Cesar Bey

  The card fell from Janna's nerveless fingers. She didn't know whether to bundle the dress back in the box and return it post-haste to the shop, or to be sensible and accept it. It was so lovely! Never in her life had she held such a dress in her hands, let alone been presented with one. But how did he, a bachelor, know her size? How could he know if he didn't possess an awful lot of knowledge about women !

  She fingered the silver slippers, small and slim-fitting, and exactly right for her, and then she noticed another package lost among the tissue. It was a little velvet box, and her cheeks tingled with a shocked delight when she found inside a pair of lapis lazuli earrings in the shape of tiny hearts.

  `He shouldn't! Oh, I can't accept these, or the dress

  But even as she whispered the words, she was clipping the blue gems to her earlobes and seeing how they matched her eyes. And her eyes were sparkling, half with fear, half with fascination. Would it matter so much if for once in her unexciting life she allowed an attractive man to dress her in silk and silver, and blue jewels? Who was there to care if he meant to seduce her? Only herself, of course. She would care if she allowed herself to be made love to by a

  man who regarded women as toys, prettily dressed up, feminine and soft, there to amuse him for a few hours.

  And then her already bejangled nerves gave a sickening leap as a hand shook her door and Mildred called out sharply : 'Why have you locked yourself in? What are you doing?'

  Janna stood petrified. Mildred mustn't see the dress or the slippers. She mustn't find out that a handsome Spaniard was pursuing her secretary. Being rather vulgar beneath her air of sophistication Mildred would at once assume the worst.

  `I ... I'm coming,' Janna called back. 'I'm only ch-changing my dress.'

  `Then be snappy,' said Mildred in a querulous voice. 'I want my neck massaged.'

  `With pleasure,' Janna muttered. 'I'd like to wring it !'

  As quietly as possible she hung up the dress and placed the silver slippers in a dark corner of the wardrobe. She then slid the box under the bed, where it was concealed by the long coverlet. She took a deep breath, smoothed her skirt, and unlocked her door. She stepped into the adjoining sitting-room and was immediately pinned by her employer's eyes.

  `I hope you aren't keeping anything from me,' Mildred rapped out. 'You've been acting oddly just lately, almost as if you have a secret.'

  `I assure you, Mrs. Noyes—'

  `If it's a man, my girl—'

  `I'd hardly be hiding him under my bed.' Janna was rattled, and speaking in a tone of voice that was not the deferential one required by her employer.

  `Really !' exclaimed Mildred. 'You're becoming impertinent, Janna Smith, and I'll remind you that typists are ten a penny and only too eager to work for someone famous like myself. If you aren't careful, my girl, I shall dismiss you, and then what will you do, stranded on the Cote d'Azur with a few pounds in your pocket and no French to speak of?'

  `Why, I'd get another job,' Janna rejoined, emboldened by the thought of Raul Cesar Bey's interest in her. She couldn't be totally lacking in personality if he wanted her company. 'There are plenty of hotels on the blue coast, catering for English and American tourists, and I could get a job as a receptionist.'

  `You, my dear?' Mildred raised a sarcastic eyebrow. 'You haven't the chic or the self-assurance required in dealing with the wealthy and their demands. You would muff such a job in a day, if you managed to land one.'

  `In which case I'm sure I could get a washing-up job in the kitchens ' Janna's eyes took fire and looked very blue, and in an instant Mildred was staring at the blue earrings Janna had forgotten to remove.

  `Where did you get those?' she demanded. 'They look expensive.'

  Janna at once looked guilty. 'Oh, I've had them a long time. They aren't really expensive, only good imitations.'

  `They look fairly real to me.' Mildred's eyes were narrow as a cat's and a pale amber colour that made them look spiteful. 'Are you sure you haven't been up to something? After all, what do I know of your activities when I'm not here to keep an eye on you?'

  `I should think the stack of work I get through each evening is a good enough answer,' Janna said stiffly. `I'd hardly have time to rob the hotel guests, and you've said often enough that a man of the world wouldn't look at me. I presume that only a rich man could afford to give real jewels to a girl?'

  `Your impertinence is intolerable today, Smith.' Mildred's face was flushed in a most unbecoming way, and her large body looked ungainly in a lace negligé. `Go and take those glass baubles off your ears, and then come and massage my neck. It aches from bending over all that writing I have to do.'

  From bending over the gaming tables was the real cause, thought Janna, as she retreated to her room to remove the

  earrings. She replaced them in the little velvet box and put it away in her bag. Her own cheeks were flushed, but quite becomingly. She would go out tonight, and she would wear the moonlight dress and enjoy herself for once!

  Mildred said no more about their spat. She knew well enough that good typists like Janna were not so easily come by, not at the kind of wage she paid. Nor would they work so uncomplainingly. But all the time Janna massaged olive oil into her employer's rather thick neck, she was aware of the pale amber eyes upon her. Mildred was curious. She sensed that there was something different about Janna—a new look of assurance, a suppressed eagerness, usually associated with a man.

  `You will get on with that new chapter tonight, won't you?' Mildred relaxed against the cushions of the daybed as a waitress appeared with a tray of tea and cakes she enjoyed after siesta each day.

  `I rather wanted to see a film tonight,' Janna said bravely. `I've worked late all the week, and my eyes feel like a rest.'

  `They won't get it in a dark hole of a cinema,' Mildred snapped. 'You girls of today think life is a merry-go-round. You want to be treated like debutantes instead of wage-earners.'

  `I think I do my share of work, Mrs. Noyes.'

  `I pay you well—I mean, considering you stay here with me at an expensive hotel, and eat at my expense.'

  `I know, but one evening off isn't much to ask.'

  `You get the afternoons, while I'm resting. I can't hav
e that typewriter clattering during siesta.'

  `I'm usually running errands for you.'

  `Really, my girl, you talk as if I'm a slavedriver !' Mildred sipped her tea and studied Janna over the rim of the cup. `Have you arranged to meet some boy?'

  Janna nearly dropped the bottle of olive oil all over the pile carpet. 'No, Mrs. Noyes.' And she was not being completely untruthful. No one in their right senses could regard Don Raul as a boy. He was the most masculine male Janna

  had ever encountered. Lean and vigorous from his heels to his brilliant dark eyes, and with something dangerous about him, something untamed.

  `That chapter must be ready to be sent off by the morning post,' Mildred said sourly. 'You'd better start on it now, if you want to go out gallivanting. You know the Romantic Woman is serialising the story and they'll be expecting that new episode for the next issue of the magazine.'

  `I'll do the typing in my bedroom ' Janna grabbed up the portable. 'So I shan't disturb you.'

  It was a blessed relief to close the door on Mildred's annoyed face, and to settle down to the typing that had to be completed at least an hour before Janna was due to meet the Don. She wanted to soak in scented bubbles, and to take her time dressing. She could never hope to look beautiful, but she desired to look her best and the lovely dress would help . . . and if Mildred had left by then for the Casino, Janna had a dire plan to borrow the soft honey-furred stole that her employer rarely wore. She would take enormous care of it, and would be slipping it back into Mildred's wardrobe long before the novelist left the gaming tables and came home yawning to the hotel. The stole would look so much nicer than a coat thrown round her shoulders, and she had never dared before to borrow a thing belonging to Mildred, who had so many worldly possessions.

  Janna's slender fingers flew over the keys of the typewriter, and as the minutes ticked by her sense of excitement increased. For one magical night she would live as the heroine lived in Mildred's romantic novel. She would dine at a super restaurant, in the company of a handsome Latin who knew the world as Janna could never know it; who was travelled and experienced, and had about him a certain air of mystery. The mystery that must be part of the desert, where he lived when he was not enjoying the sophistication of the Riviera.