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Out of Control

Page 9

by Charlotte Lamb


  Keir Gifford was a hardened campaigner; a lifetime bachelor who had had a lot of women in his life and always got away before they nailed him. He might want her, but he wasn't telling her that she was the love of his life. He wasn't offering her his heart—just his body, and she had never descended to one of those loveless affairs. She was afraid to risk loving, but she wouldn't risk an affair without it, either.

  'No,' she said, and balling her hand into a fist, hit him in the stomach before he had any idea what she meant to do.

  Keir instinctively doubled up at the blow, giving a winded gasp, and Liza pushed him violently before he could recover.

  He crashed backwards and hit the desk, and while Liza had him off balance she ran—unashamedly ran. The door slammed behind her and she felt heads lift, eyes stare, but nobody stopped her as she pelted for the lift.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Liza rang Bruno from her office, but there was no reply, either at his flat or in his own office. She persevered and finally got hold of his secretary, who sounded flustered and busy.

  'I'm sorry, I'm afraid Mr Morris isn't here, he isn't at work today. He has been transferred to New York and is busy making all his arrangements.'

  Liza hadn't identified herself other than to say that she was one of the Gifford clients, in case Keir had given Bruno's secretary instructions not to pass on any information to her.

  Casually, she murmured, 'He's at his mother's, is he?' and the woman admitted it.

  'I'm afraid I must go, so much to do, such short notice. Sorry.' The secretary rang off and Liza slowly hung up, biting her lower lip. She didn't quite dare risk ringing Mrs Morris's number, and if Bruno had been ordered not to see her by his uncle he might well be too worried to disobey. She didn't want to cause any more trouble for Bruno. How would he feel about a transfer to New York? Would he feel exiled or be delighted? She wasn't sure. Bruno liked America and had often visited it, but would he want to live there for two years?

  The console on her desk buzzed and she jumped, completely taken by surprise. It was half a minute before she groped for the switch and said, 'Yes, Maddie?'

  'Nicky Wallis is here,' Maddie said, her voice cool and expressionless. Liza could imagine the face that went with that tone. Maddie did not like Nicky Wallis and had a hard time hiding the fact. He was a very successful photographer and a very good-looking man; the agency couldn't afford to offend him because he had marvellous contacts, a great reputation and a book full of highly paid jobs. The agency models were always ready to work for him because he paid them well, but Nicky Wallis was a dedicated philanderer and more than one of their girls had got badly hurt from falling for him. Maddie icily disapproved of him and had often said that she wished Liza would strike him off their list and refuse the work he offered their girls.

  Wryly, Liza said, 'Send him in, Maddie.'

  There was an irritated click and then Liza's door opened. She swung in her chair, her hands on her desk, smiling politely.

  'Hello, Nicky. What are you bringing us today?'

  He came sauntering over, lithe as a mountain cat in striped black and yellow cotton jeans with a sleeveless black vest top. He was forty if he was a day, but he dressed like a teenager; even his footwear was adoles­cent, striking black and yellow sports trainers on which he bounced lightly to curl up on the side of her desk, his knees bent upward and his arms clasping them, his chin tucked over them and his dark eyes gazing soulfully at Liza across the desk.

  'You look cool and sexy as usual!'

  'I wonder if your mother was frightened by Peter Pan before you were born?' Liza grinned as she spoke, but it wasn't entirely a joke.

  Nicky liked the idea; his face gleamed. 'I may quote you.'

  Liza leaned back to avoid the hand sneaking over the desk towards hers.

  'Coffee?'

  'Black, no sugar.' Nicky put his hands up, thumbs together, framing her, peering through the square he had made at her.

  'Coffee, Maddie—black,' Liza said crisply and her secretary's voice glumly promised to make some.

  'You know, you were crazy to retire so soon—you could have been working all these years, they would have been your prime,' Nicky said.

  'It was no job for an adult.'

  'And playing desk jockey—is that an adult job?' Briefly, Nicky's dark eyes were contemptuous.

  'It beats standing about in ridiculous poses for hours on end, anyway.'

  Maddie came in with the coffee, eyeing Nicky Wallis coldly. 'Are you going to drink it sitting there like a monkey on a stick?' she enquired and he took the cup and blew her a kiss.

  'Nasty old witch,' he said as Maddie closed the door, and Liza looked down at her own coffee, frowning. She was very fond of Maddie. She didn't say anything, though, because Maddie knew better than to snap at a client. Right or wrong, Nicky Wallis brought the agency jobs they needed, and Maddie ought to guard her tongue.

  'I could use you for this job, actually,' Nick thought aloud, one eye on Liza.

  'What job?' Liza asked, as he had intended, aware of what he was up to—he always insisted on playing one of these delaying games each time he asked them for a model. He enjoyed the sense of power he got from being able to bring them work, partly because he was the sort of man who loved playing games and partly because he had a personal reason for needling Liza.

  Nicky had been one of the first photographers Liza ever worked with. She had been very young and green, and he had made a pass at her. It had got him nowhere; Liza was already immunised, and the last thing she wanted was to have a man touch her. Funnily enough, her success in modelling sprang from her icy distaste about men—she hardly remembered anything of those first months in the job. She had been one of the walking wounded; so numb with despair and cauterised by pain that she just went through the motions without really knowing what happened around her. She had obeyed like an automaton; photographers had loved it. Her body was graceful and supple, they could move her like a bendy doll and she would stay where they'd put her. Yet her green eyes had been remote and distant; as if a fine gauze curtain fell over them. Her face had been haunted and haunting; fragile bones and drifting nets of golden hair, a tremulous, hurt mouth, a pale and translucent skin.

  Nicky had been very excited by her, he couldn't keep his hands to himself. Liza had permitted the touching if she felt that it was professionally necessary, but when he started enjoying himself she slapped his hands away and said that if he touched her like that again she was leaving and she wouldn't be back.

  Nicky had looked astounded, incredulous, visibly unsure whether or not this was a bluff, torn between bowing to her ultimatum or telling her to go then, see if he cared!

  In the end he had held up his hands, ostentatiously, stepping back. 'OK, sweetheart! If it bothers you!*

  'It annoys me!' Liza had snapped. T pick my own men, thanks!'

  Nicky had resented her ever since, but he was good at hiding his feelings behind a beaming smile, and his i mate sense of professional common sense had made .ure that not only did he go on using Liza as a model but, when she started her agency, Nicky immediately became me of their clients. Liza was aware that he could have 11 icd to freeze her out; influencing potential customers into going elsewhere, spreading malicious gossip, run­ning down her models. There were a hundred and one ways of wrecking a business as vulnerable as a model agency, but Nicky hadn't taken any of them and Liza had learnt to respect his professional standards.

  She didn't like him any better, and she didn't kid herself that he had changed. Given a chance, he would make a pass, but she never gave him any encouragement.

  Now, he told her about the offer he was bringing the agency, stressing the fact that she was only getting it through him.

  'Interested?'

  'Very,' she said, because the job was a long-term one, not a one-off session for a magazine or fashion house, but an advertising campaign for a new range of cosmetics.

  'They're not using TV at first, that may come later, but it's
an expensive medium. For the moment, it will be newspaper and magazines, plus small posters for hoardings.' Nicky outlined the campaign plan, his chin on his knees, and Liza got up and wandered around the office, listening intently. He hadn't yet mentioned money, but she sensed it was going to be a high-paying project and she was excited. She forgot to keep out of N icky's reach and suddenly found his arm snaking out to capture her.

  'Let go,' she said wearily, throwing back her head and looking at him with cool distaste. 'Don't you ever give up?'

  'Not me, babe,' he said, bending his head to kiss her,

  and Liza put her hand on his shoulder to thrust him

  away.

  The door opened behind them and Nicky raised his head again, staring. 'I didn't hear a knock,' he snapped.

  Liza freed herself to look round and was stunned to see Bruno in the doorway, rather flushed and frowning.

  'I've been trying to ring you!' she said in a husky voice as he began backing out, mumbling something incoher­ent. 'No, don't go, Bruno, I have to talk to you.' She glanced at Nicky. 'Could we go on with our discussion some other time?'

  He was furious, but he turned a wolfish grin on her. 'With discussions like that, any time, darling,' he murmured deliberately as he sprang down from the desk, catlike and graceful, dancing out of the office. As he passed Bruno Liza felt the back of her neck turn cold. Bruno wanted to hit him, she saw his fists curl angrily and so did Nicky, but it didn't alarm him, he just leered at Bruno and vanished. He knew that she had been seeing Bruno, he must have read the gossip columns-was that why he had just made another pass? Had he been trying his luck again because he hoped she might be more ready to respond?

  'Who's that?' Bruno asked, coming over to face her as the door shut behind Nicky. 'Arrogant bastard, why was he sneering at me like that?'

  'He's Nicky Wallis,' Liza said absently, already forgetting Nicky as she looked at Bruno and wondered if he was angry with her because he was being sent off to the States to part them.

  'Who?' Bruno certainly looked grim enough; his lower lip was pouting as if he was about to cry.

  'He's a famous photographer.'

  'Oh, one of those!' Bruno glowered at her. 'He was kissing you—are you dating him?'

  'No, I've spent the past seven years trying to keep his tentacles off me,' Liza said drily. 'He never stops trying, that's all.' She smiled at Bruno coaxingly. 'Are you OK? You look fraught.'

  'I'm not sure whether I'm on my head or my heels,' he said. 'G. K. said he'd tell you himself. Did he? You know he's sending me to New York?' She nodded, watching him. 'How do you feel about it?' 'It's damned good promotion,' Bruno said, but he sounded uncertain, which in her experience of him meant that he was nervous and far from happy. T hope I can handle it. He's putting me on probation—a three month's trial, and if I can't cope he'll move me elsewhere.' 'You'll cope,' Liza said firmly. 'Think so?' Bruno looked eagerly, hopefully at her. He needed a constant injection of reassurance, and she couldn't help worrying about how he would manage in America, away from his friends and family. Bruno was a soft-centred creature, he had no shell to protect him, unlike a guy like Nicky Wallis, who was as tough as leather and thick-skinned into the bargain. 'I'm sure of it,' she stressed. Bruno sighed. 'I'm going to miss you,' he murmured naively and she laughed.

  'I mean it,' he insisted, then his face changed and he watched her with curiosity. 'Did my uncle ring you or i <>me here in person? I was taken aback when he said he would deal with you himself. He wasn't objectionable, was he?' He had turned red. 'I mean, he didn't insult you ? My mother seems to think that you ... that we ... well, she's been nagging G. K. and he always tries to keep her happy. He told me not to see you again, but of course

  I'm not letting him dictate to me! I had to come and say goodbye and explain.' He looked down, his eyes shifty, the back of his neck brick-red. T wouldn't want you to think . . . that is, the way G. K. was talking, I started to wonder if you thought the same as him! If you were expecting me to ask you to...' He broke off, gulping like an agitated bullfrog. 'But I didn't think . .. that is, it wasn't that serious, was it? I mean ...'

  T know what you mean,' Liza said solemnly. 'And it wasn't serious, Bruno; it was fun and I loved every minute of it, but that was all it was—just fun.'

  He gave a heavy sigh of relief, grinning at her. 'Well, that's what I thought, but G. K. had me almost convinced—it's like being hypnotised by a snake that means to eat you. My blood ran cold, but I couldn't get the words out.'

  'About last night?' Liza wondered if he had been with someone else last night, especially when she saw the guilty uneasiness in his flushed face.

  'He mentioned that?'

  'I told him you weren't here.' She held his eyes. 'What did you tell him?'

  'Well, I couldn't, he'd have stepped on my neck! You wouldn't believe how nasty he can get.'

  'I would.'

  Bruno shifted restlessly. 'If I tell you, you wouldn't tell him? He'd kill me, Liza.'

  'I won't tell a soul.' But she was dying with curiosity— what could Bruno have been doing that made him so frightened of his uncle finding out?

  'It just happened, Liza, honestly! I went back to my flat to change after I'd dropped you off and on the way I ran into a guy who was at school with me. Last I heard, he was working in Africa, managing a tea plantation. Two years since I'd seen him, so we went to have a drink—we had a lot of catching up to do, and one thing led to another and . . .' His voice trailed away and he gave her a sheepish look. 'Well, we ended up in this club in Soho.'

  'Gambling?' Liza guessed wryly. Keir Gifford wouldn't like that! Bruno was quite right.

  'Not exactly,' Bruno said, very pink around the ears, it . .. was a strip club, actually.'

  She stared and started to laugh. 'Oh, Bruno!'

  'G. K. wouldn't have been amused,' Bruno said.

  'No, I suppose not,' she conceded.

  'He always says it's too risky for people like us to go into that part of London—too many chances of meeting the wrong kind of people, running into blackmail or some sort of trouble.'

  Liza could see Keir's point; anyone from the criminal world who recognised one of the Gifford clan out on a spree might be tempted to make something out of it. She frowned, then; wasn't that what he had thought of her? That she was using Bruno, taking advantage of him?

  Then she saw the look on Bruno's flushed face and her brows went up.

  'There's more?'

  Bruno pulled a face. 'Well, it was my friend, not me— he had one too many and there was a fight over this girl and we both got chucked out. Luckily, nobody knew our names and there were no reporters around. I got him into a taxi and saw him back to his hotel and went home, and I was just going to bed when G. K. rang. He came round and I'd sobered up a bit by then; put my head under a tap and drunk a few black coffees, but I looked a bit of a shambles and G. K. was so furious I simply couldn't tell him where I'd really been. I'm sorry, Liza.'

  His penitence was only skin deep, she realised, gazing wryly at him. Bruno was spoilt and selfish and had taken the easy way out yet again. He wasn't going to change; he would always take the easy road, and she hoped G. K. Gifford knew what he was doing sending his nephew off to New York alone. That city was full of temptations for reckless, spoilt young men with too much money. The Giffords might well end up wishing they had let him marry her!

  Bruno sighed. 'You know, I'm going to miss you a hell of a lot, Liza. New York's a long way off and it's a very big city. I'll be lonely over there.'

  'You'll find a new playmate,' Liza said, grinning at him, unmoved by his soulful look. She knew he would always make sure he enjoyed his life; Bruno was not the serious type.

  'Before I go, why don't we...' Bruno began then lifted his head to look round, his face startled, as they both heard an angry outburst from the office in which Maddie sat.

  'No, you can't go in there!' Maddie was saying fiercely and they heard a struggle right outside the door. The handle turned nois
ily, a body crashed against the wooden panels.

  "What on earth?' Bruno muttered and Liza got up from her desk, but before she could cross the office to ask Maddie what was going on in the outer room, the door was flung open and Maddie fell inwards, still clutching the handle.

  Bruno gave a strangled yelp and Liza went pale and then red with fury as she saw G. K. Gifford in the doorway.

  'He forced his way in,' Maddie was spluttering as she straightened and began tidying her dress and hair with shaky hands. 'Shall I call security? He wouldn't give a name or wait, and he stopped me using the console to tell you he was here. I think he's crazy. I'd better get security up here right away!'

  'That's OK, Maddie,' Liza said tersely, her mouth level and angry. T know him.'

  'You do?' Maddie seemed incredulous, she gave Keir a stare of intense dislike. 'He's too damn sure of himself, pushing me around like that, giving me orders. Who does he think he is?'

  'He knows who he is,' Liza said icily. 'He's G. K. Gifford and he owns this whole building, if you remember, Maddie.'

  Her secretary's mouth opened as far as it would go and stayed like it. A thin, high keening issued from her.

  'Gifford?' she seemed to be repeating.

  'G. K. Gifford,' Liza stressed. 'Remember the face, Maddie. If he ever comes here again warn me before he can get anywhere near the door.'

  Maddie nodded violently, backing, staring at Keir, her mouth still wide open in amazement. He stood back to let her leave the office, ostentatiously holding the door open for her in a mimicry of gallantry, his smile dry and sardonic.

  i should close your mouth soon or you may get stuck like that,' he drawled pleasantly, and Maddie's eyes rolled furiously, but he shut the door on her before she could burst out with whatever she had been trying to say.

 

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