It was twenty minutes to eight when Janna paper-clipped the finished chapter and sealed it in an envelope with a car-
bon copy. She covered the portable, stretched her aching arms, and glanced in the other room to see if Mildred had gone down to dinner. Everything was quiet. Janna was alone, and she lost no time running a bath and laying out her nylon underwear. She had a phial of favourite scent to wear, and though she didn't use a lot of make-up, her cream-powder and lipstick were attractively tinted, and a wisp of blue shadow across her eyelids was sufficient to enhance her eyes, which were her best feature and were darkly lashed in contrast to her general fairness. She had never known her parents, but someone had once suggested that she had Irish eyes.
Bathed, fragrant, and with a fast beating heart, she slipped into the silk dress and as its suppleness settled perfectly on her slim figure, and the jewelled straps gleamed against her pale skin, she caught her breath in wonderment. It was true, that saying about fine feathers making all the difference to a person. The texture of the dress, and the beautiful way it was made, created for Janna an illusion of real prettiness. The silvery colour with its hints of blue was exactly right for her.
Raul Cesar Bey was indeed a man who knew about women and what suited them She dared not think about the price of the dress, with its hint of seduction in the jewelled straps and the baring of her slim young neck and shoulders. Her bosom was delicately curved under the silk, and her waist and hips were so slender as to be breakable. Her height was slightly raised by the fine heels of the silver slippers and the tiny blue hearts burned softly against the small lobes of her ears. Capping her head like so much mimosa was her short, well-brushed hair, and at her nape a little peak of gold was also innocently fetching.
She was all but ready. Now she had to brave herself to go into Mildred's bedroom where the honey-furred stole hung with other furs in the large wardrobe. Dared she take such a risk? Mildred would be furious if she ever found out. She might even accuse Janna of intent to steal, and all Janna
wanted was to enhance her dress rather than hide it with a coat. If only she had an evening wrap of her own to wear, but she had never thought to buy one. She had not anticipated an evening date with a man who obviously liked his parmers to look pretty and glamorous.
She glanced at the travelling dock on her bedside table and saw that the time was creeping steadily towards her meeting with her escort. She must decide now . . . was it to be the fur stole, or her cream cloth coat?
`Mouse!' she exclaimed. 'What Her Majesty Mildred doesn't see she won't worry about. All you must worry about is getting back to the hotel in good time to replace the stole.'
Janna hastened across the sitting-room to the door of her employer's bedroom. She turned the handle, darted inside, and a few seconds later was adjusting the soft stole about her shoulders and fastening the big fur button. It felt delicious against her skin, and made her feel an expensively feminine bundle for Raul Cesar Bey to unwrap in the exotic Persian Room.
`Here goes, Janna.' She crossed her fingers. 'You're about to spend the evening with a dangerous man, so best beware. He'll turn your innocent head if you aren't terribly careful.'
There it stood in the parking area along the esplanade, a long gleaming Silver Cloud Rolls, with someone in a white jacket seated at the wheel in a wreath of cigarette smoke. Janna felt breathless, and she slowed her pace as she walked towards the car. As each step brought her nearer, she saw again the smooth black hair, the firm profile, the hint of autocracy in the way this grandson of a Princess flicked ash from the open window of the sleek car.
A most curious mixture of emotions assailed her. She wanted to turn and run away before he saw her, and yet like a piece of silver she was drawn towards the magnetism of the man. He made her afraid, and yet he fascinated her. She didn't dare to think of what he might ask of her; having
dressed her in silk, fie might take it for granted that she was his for the night.
Her knees seemed to tremble beneath her, her heart seemed to turn over, for in that moment he turned and looked directly at her, and he seemed to possess her with his long, darkly brilliant eyes. As she stood there the esplanade lights shimmered on her silvery dress and revealed her huge eyes in her triangular face, so lightly made up as to appear pale. She held the honey fur close against her throat, and there was about her an air of entreaty, as if she silently pleaded with him not to be too wicked.
He opened the door of the car and with a single lithe movement he was at Janna's side. 'Good evening, Miss Smith.' His eyes dwelt on her face. 'I wondered if at the last minute you would be afraid to meet me.'
`Good evening, senor.' She smiled nervously. 'As you can see, I plucked up the courage and came.'
`And you are wearing the dress. I'm pleased.' He said it like a sultan, and colour warmed her cheeks.
`It was rather wicked of you to send it, and rather greedy of me to wear it.'
`Greedy, Miss Smith?' He quirked a puzzled eyebrow.
`Yes. I was taught as an orphan child to suppress the desire for worldly things, and you tempt me with a dress you knew I'd be unable to resist.'
`So you like it?'
`I . . . I love it,' she had to admit.
`Then that is all you need worry about. No matter what your orphanage taught you, it isn't good for the spirit even if it's good for the soul to repress every desire for the good things put into this world for us to enjoy. Would there be moonlight if we were not meant to see it? Would there be sunlight if we were not meant to feel it?'
`Those things are universal possessions, senor.'
`Meaning that a girl from an orphanage is not supposed to want silk dresses?'
`Something like that. The Principal was hot on humility.'
`And having been taught humility you are guilty about feeling spoiled for once?'
`Yes—I suppose so.'
`Little fool. You amuse me, and you exasperate me,' he growled. 'Into the car with you—and don't crush yourself up in the corner like that! There is room enough for the two of us.'
Ample room, in that luxurious interior, with its springy upholstery, soft lighting, and carpet underfoot, and its aroma of good tobacco and well-groomed masculinity.
He started the smooth engine and they swept out on to the highway as if on wings. Plenty of traffic was about, coming and going along the wide road, splashing the night with long broad fingers of light. His attention was upon his driving for those first minutes, and Janna was free to study him.
He wore a crisp white dinner jacket over dark trousers tailored perfectly to his lean length of leg. His shirt front just hinted at a ruffle, and his tie was a narrow bow. In his lapel there was a small dark-red clove flower, and his cufflinks were gold with a tiny ruby in each one. On his left hand, on the small finger, he wore a crested gold ring, and his hands on the wheel were as well-kept, as lean and darkly strong as the rest of him.
Janna felt shy of him, here in the enclosed intimacy of the Silver Cloud. She was intensely aware of him as a man, and as a comparative stranger who in a matter of hours had induced her to accept an expensive gift from him, and to borrow a fur from her employer and so risk instant dismissal, or worse, if discovered by Mildred.
`Please relax,' he murmured, as if her tension communicated itself to him. 'My car is comfortable, the night is young, and I'm sure Cinderella enjoyed herself when she escaped from her chores for a few hours.'
`That is only a story, Don Raul. This is all too real, and I'm not sure I shouldn't ask you to drive me back to the hotel.'
`You could ask,' he drawled, but I would not comply with your request. My dear girl, you would not have met me in the first place, wearing the new dress, if you had not wanted to taste forbidden fruit for once.'
`I'm not sure I like the way you put it !'
He laughed. 'How easily alarmed is the little bird Mildred Noyes has caged for herself ! I wager that the longer you are with that woman the more she will clip your wings, until you won't b
e able to fly away at all. Does not that prospect frighten you more than I do? I come from the desert, but the hawk is not quite so awful as the vulture, and your employer strikes me as one of those. Taking but never giving. Demanding, but never returning anything in respect of those demands. Arrogant without any kindness.'
`Are you kind, senor?' Janna had spoken before she realised what her words might imply . . . that she was aching for a little kindness, and that from him it would be more than welcome. 'I mean, you seem to like getting your own way ... and I couldn't help but notice the other day that you said something to make the Doña Rachael cry.'
The poor girl cries easily these days, and it takes only a name to bring the tears.'
Janna remembered that his cousin by marriage had been wearing grey and violet silk, colours associated with mourning, and she realised that Rachael's widowhood must be fairly recent. Dark eyes met Janna's as the car halted at some traffic signals. 'You never had a family, senorita, but I think you can imagine how it must feel to lose a loved one, especially someone who was young and with much to anticipate.'
`Yes, it must be sad for her, senor. And now she has to bear alone the upbringing of her children.'
`Ah, I hope in time that she will want to share her life with a man again . . . she is very beautiful.' He started the car, and Janna noticed that his hands were gripping the wheel, as if he himself were gripped by a strong emotion. `Our table at the Persian Room is booked and I wonder if
you have tasted champagne before tonight . . . the wine of freedom.'
As he spoke, Janna's hands clenched the honey fur of her borrowed finery. There was something about him that charmed her, held her captive when she knew it would be wiser to break free of his spell, before the wine and the soft lights added their enticements. She had never known a man like him before, and she knew herself vulnerable to a kindness, lonely for the attention of a real man, and responsive to the attraction of him.
`You are an intriguing creature, Janna Smith. You don't chatter or try to charm, and I begin to suspect that you have known very few men.'
`It would be a fairly safe assumption about a girl who isn't pretty or gay.'
`You think yourself plain and dull?'
`Without the fine feathers I am.'
`A little silken plumage helps any woman to look more attractive,' he agreed. But you are plain only in your own mind, and it no doubt suits Madame Noyes to encourage the idea. In truth, Janna, you have eyes of an unusual blue, and the soft hair of an infant. Ah, you give me an indignant look ! You don't like it that you look so young and innocent?'
`I'd sooner look sophisticated.'
`Why, I wonder? You would still at heart be a soft and rather frightened young thing who has, I venture, never been kissed by a man.'
`Do you plan to remedy such a dismal state of affairs, Don Raul?' Her cheeks were scarlet, but she had to speak her piece. 'If you think I came out with you because I'm love-starved, then you're in for a surprise. I'm not panting to be kissed by you, because you happen to be handsome and rich!'
`I never thought you were,' he drawled. 'Nor do I have to seduce girls in order to satisfy my libido, chica, I am not some sheik of the desert, abducting a pale young thing with
eyes like the blue hour. This is the Côte d'Azur, and we drive in my car to eat dinner at a restaurant—after which we will talk, and you will listen.'
`We will talk about what?' she asked.
`The time is not yet right for me to tell you.' As he spoke he drove the silver car into the parking area of the Persian Room, with its white dome and a Persian doorman, clad in the traditional kaftan and silk turban, to usher them into the softly carpeted foyer, with tubs of white oleanders and an arched entrance leading into the alcoved dining-room.
Janna was entranced by the jewel lights of the lamps, the tables set beside divans, and the strange rhythm of the hidden music. The aroma of good food hung on the air, mingling with that of roses entwining the marble columns of the dining alcoves. The diners seemed to talk in whispers, imparting an air of mystery and intimacy.
A waiter led them to a secluded table, lit by the little jewel-coloured lamps, and near an archway where a fountain played among flowers in the dimness.
The Persian Room was like an oriental palace, and Janna felt as if she had been wafted on a magic carpet into a realm of fantasy. The touch of strong fingers removing the fur stole from her shoulders did not dispel the feeling. Raul Cesar Bey added to it. Here in this exotic place he seemed more dangerously handsome, as if its atmosphere brought out the Arabian in him.
`Please sit down, Janna.'
She did so, and he sat beside her on the divan, and for a long moment he just looked at her, taking in her slim shoulders made seductive by the jewelled straps of the silky dress. She tensed as his dark eyes lingered on her throat, and the young curve of her bosom.
`It is really amazing,' he murmured. 'I can hardly believe my eyes.'
`Don Raul,' she smiled nervously, 'I haven't changed from a duckling to a swan with one wave of your cheque
book.'
`No,' he shook his head, 'I was thinking of something else—but we will talk of that later, when we have sampled the wine and the food, and you are more relaxed in my company.'
She was puzzled, intrigued, and faintly afraid. She sensed that he was going to ask her for something, and she was afraid because with each passing moment he seemed to captivate her lonely, untried youthful heart.
She needed a glass of champagne, something to give her the courage to fight his fascination.
CHAPTER THREE
THE dinner enjoyed by Janna at the Persian Room was a memorable one, followed by plums flaming in a honeyed glaze of brandy liqueur. They were delicious, popped quickly between the lips, while the Persian music played and moths drifted in from the garden to hum around the table lamps.
Now we will have coffee, eh?' He smiled at her youthful enjoyment of the plums. 'I think you like it here, the mystery and the music of the place. For me it's a little like being home again.'
You sound homesick for the desert, Don Raul.' The sweetness of the plums and the tang of the brandy clung to her lips as she looked at him with a smile of interest in her eyes. 'Why do you stay on the Riviera when you are free to leave whenever you wish?'
`I came to visit Rachael, and I stayed a little longer than I meant to because six days ago I stumbled upon a girl in a tangle of mimosa.'
Janna's eyes widened, an azure blue in the soft lamplight. He referred to her, and her pulses gave a startled leap at the
implication that he had felt so attracted to her that he had stayed to make her acquaintance. And yet she couldn't quite believe him. The Côte d'Azur teemed with lovely suntanned blondes who had little else to do but enjoy themselves and amuse men such as Raul Cesar Bey.
`I'm sure you're teasing me.' She studied the nearby loggia with its fountain and flowers. 'I'm not the sort men like yourself take a lot of notice of.'
`What do you know about men like myself ?' he mocked. `I am not spinning you a line. I had planned to return to Morocco a week ago, then I saw you in the garden of the hotel and changed my mind.'
`But why?'
`You wouldn't believe me if I said I was at once intrigued by you?'
She shook her head. 'I'm not vain enough to believe anything so improbable. You've met too many women to be struck sideways by a nondescript typist.'
`You are more than that, Janna. You are intelligent, and you are direct. You let me know that your head is not so easily turned by a man, or this glamorous place and the champagne.'
`I'm not used to them, but all the same I'm not a fool.' She braved the half-brilliance of his eyes. 'Why did you bring me here, Don Raul? What do you want to say to me?'
`We will have our coffee in that fountain garden, and there I will tell you why I wished to know you.'
He beckoned the waiter and told him to bring coffee to them in the loggia, then he rose to his feet and led Janna benea
th the fretted archway to a seat near the fountain. Water flowers floated in the marble basin, their petals like the pale skirts of tiny ballerinas. The tinkling of the fountain made a soothing music, yet Janna felt a tension that was not eased by the touch of a lean hand on hers, fingering the fine bones of her wrist.
`Your pulse is racing,' he said. 'You are frightened, yet you stay to listen to me. I am glad you have courage.'
`Is it going to take courage, what you intend to ask of me?'
`Yes,' he admitted. 'It will take nerve, if you agree to my proposition.'
She looked at him in the mysterious light of the loggia, trying to read his face and all the time acutely aware of his fingers on her wrist. He was touching the little charm on the bracelet of her wrist-chain.
`You are superstitious, Janna? I see you wear a little talisman.' He examined the tiny gold fish which she had bought for luck, out of her first month's earnings as an independent person. 'Has the charm succeeded in bringing you some good fortune?'
`I don't really know. When I landed my job with Mildred, I suppose I thought myself fortunate. I longed to travel.'
`Have you ever thought of seeing the desert—ah, before you answer me let us have our coffee. I find it conducive to clear thinking, and that we must have after the champagne.'
The waiter arranged the coffee cups on a small table and poured it hot from a silver pot. Then he left them alone . . . so very alone, in fact, that Janna wondered if Don Raul had paid for the exclusive use of the loggia this evening. She added sugar to her cup, took a sip of the delicious brew, and regarded her host with large, enquiring eyes.
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