`But even after three weeks of hard thinking, you are not willing to commit yourself just yet?'
She was rather taken aback by the full-frontal approach. 'Well, I'm still discussing it with my agent, and—'
Ànd he has advised you to wait and see whether you get a better offer?' He smiled with disarming frankness. Ànd you are not sure about committing yourself to this almost-unknown Italian, whose films make no money, and who pays such low fees?'
Ì can assure you that I'm not accustomed to high fees,' Sophie smiled. She was taking an instinctive liking to this man, 'And I am very flattered by your interest in me.'
`Have you other offers to consider?'
`W ell—yes, I have.'
`Please, listen to me.' He took her hand in warm fingers, and looked intently into her face. 'On the strength of last night's showing, you could command much more money than I am offering. But I cannot raise my fee, much as I would like to. My finances are, as you no doubt know, very limited, and I am having to pay a great deal of money to get Luigi Canotta, the male lead. What I can do, however, is offer you a percentage of my share in the eventual box-office profits of The First Day of Autumn.'
`Mr Luciani—'
`That is something I have not offered Canotta. Sophie, I am convinced that this film will make money. It's different from Roman Affair, my last film. It's much more commercial, and much more contemporary. Your one or two per cent, whatever we decide on, could be worth a great deal more than the fee I'm offering. It could make money for you for years to come.'
`That's an extraordinarily generous offer, Mr Luciani, and I feel that ...'
The words dried in Sophie's throat as her eyes fixed on someone over Franco's shoulder.
It was Kyle.
And Helene le Bon, talking animatedly, was introducing him to Jenny.
Sophie felt that giant fist squeeze her heart tight as recognition slammed home. Her first thought was, He's been here, in London, and he hasn't contacted me!
Her second was to confirm her gut feeling, as though it needed confirming, that he was the most magnificent man she would ever see.
If anything even more tanned than she remembered from Jamaica, he was smiling lazily down at Jenny's coquettish, pretty face. His eyes were emerald slits between the smoky black lashes. The lithe, muscular body she remembered so well was sheathed in a dark silk suit tonight, the fine material doing no more than hint at the powerful shoulders and taut waist that had once lain naked against her own skin.
She laid her hand against her pounding heart, trying to catch the breath that seemed to have been seared from her lungs all of a sudden. Dimly, as if from far away, she was aware of Franco Luciani asking her something.
Ì—I'm sorry.' She tore her hypnotised gaze away from Kyle and Jenny, and looked blindly at the director. 'What did you ask?'
He was frowning slightly. 'I asked whether you found that offer appealing. It's not uncommon these days, and many actors have found it a very profitable arrangement.
Of course it's a gamble, but this is a gamble where you cannot actually lose money.'
`No, no, I find it a very interesting proposition,' she stammered, completely off balance.
Suddenly, all she wanted to do was get away from Franco and speak to Kyle.
God, why did things work out like this? Just when she needed her concentration most—'I will be working with a very small film unit,' Franco said. 'Almost impromptu. Costs will be very low. If you agreed to play Marjorie for me, we could bring the first day of shooting forward by two months. Canotta is free
at this moment. We could be filming on location in Pisa by mid-September.'
`Mid-September? Next month?'
`Yes. W ould that suit you?'
Ìt's a little short notice ... but there's no reason why not.'
`Good,' Franco said, his expression easing. 'This is a film which will be made quickly and cleanly, without too much introspection. You understand me? Your part of it could be finished in less than eight weeks. At the most, ten weeks. The scenes between the hero and his family will be shot in the studios at Cinecitta, in Rome, later in the year.
Once you'd finished in Pisa, you would be free to come back to London. Maybe we could even get the Pisa section shot in as little as six weeks. Why not? We have no special effects to contend with, a very small cast, and a relatively simple script. I have deliberately chosen to do it this way, to keep the expenses down. The problem with financing any kind of film in the present economic climate is that ...'
Sophie wasn't listening any more. Her eyes had swung back to Kyle, now lifting his head to drain his champagne glass. Why didn't he look at her? He must know she was here! Was he deliberately ignoring her? Oh, look at me, she begged him silently, please...
Helene had moved on to another group, leaving Kyle and Jenny talking. The silvery streaks at Kyle's tanned temples glinted as he turned to get Jenny another glass of champagne from a passing waiter. He smiled at her as he put it into her fingers, that formidably male face wearing its most deliberately charming mask.
And Jenny was moving into top gear, reacting to Kyle like a rose starting to bloom in the summer sunshine A Venus's fly-trap, more likely, Sophie thought bitterly, catching Jenny's silvery laughter as Kyle murmured something amusing close to her ear.
She felt sick. Faced with Jenny's beauty, Kyle Hart's poised male experience was all too obvious; a slow smile
was lurking on his lips, lips that she'd once imagined kissing so many women, leaving them all crying for more.
Something of Franco Luciani's passionate sincerity was making its way through her numbed thoughts. For God's sake, she cursed herself, one thing at a time. This man is making you a marvellous offer!
Once again, she dragged her eyes away from Kyle and tried to fix her mind on what the director was saying to her. 'Artistically, you find no obstacles about playing the part of Marjorie?'
`No, on the contrary, I think she's a wonderful character— '
Ànd you are not, how do you say, put off by the difficulties of playing against an Italian lead? You don't speak any Italian, do you?'
À—a little. I once did a course ...'
`But that's wonderful,' Franco said, his eyes lighting up. He moved slightly, obscuring Kyle and hemming Sophie into a corner. 'When we start filming in Pisa ...'
She tried to look interested in what Franco Luciani was saying, but the hollow, dizzy feeling inside wouldn't leave her alone. She tried to see round him, but he had stationed himself so as to monopolise her attention. Like other directors she had known, he was almost obsessive about his work, the project on hand dominating his thoughts to the exclusion of all others.
It washed over her like rain, and it was twenty agonising minutes before the director interrupted his own monologue. 'But this is not the time or place to talk business,' he said. 'I simply wanted to give you some time to think about the idea.'
`Your offer is extremely generous,' she said, trying to smile. 'I'd very much like to discuss it with Joey Gilmour, my agent. I'm no good at business, I'm afraid—he deals with all that side of it for me—'
Òf course. We will arrange a more formal meeting to discuss the details.' He leaned close to her. 'And do not forget, what could be worth even more than that i s
the chance to star in a film that attracts attention. Believe me, Sophie Aspen, The First Day of Autumn will attract a great deal of attention' He straightened his back proudly. 'I have made commercially unsuccessful films, but I have never made a bad film.'
Ì'm ashamed to say I haven't seen Roman Affair,' Sophie said, 'but everyone speaks very highly of your work.' She touched his arm. 'I'm terribly sorry,' she said awkwardly, 'this is absolutely fascinating, but I've just remembered something important I must say to my cousin. Could you excuse me for ten minutes?'
Òf course,' he beamed, evidently delighted at finding Sophie in such a receptive mood. He helped himself to a glass of champagne as Sophie started across the room to whe
re Kyle and Jenny were standing.
CHAPTER SIX
KYLE was a head taller than most of the men in the room, his dark presence seeming, in Sophie's eyes at least, to dominate everyone else. Her heart was in her mouth, her palms clammy with perspiration, as she approached through the crowd. How was he going to treat her?
`Hello, Kyle,' Sophie said softly. As on a previous meeting, her throat was constricted.
She found speech with an effort. 'How are you?'
Kyle's gaze swung her way, but there wasn't a flicker of emotion on his face as their eyes met. 'Fine,' he said with cool politeness. 'And you?'
Sophie felt as though someone had just dashed a bucket of iced water in her face.
`Fine.'
`Do you two know each other?' Jenny said, looking slightly put out.
`W e've met,' Kyle said huskily.
' 'Don't tell me you're another member of the Sophie Aspen fan club,' Jenny groaned.
'All I've heard tonight is how wonderful my theatrical cousin is. Did you watch The Elmtree Road Murders last night?'
He shook his head, and Jenny brightened. 'I was tied up with a friend.' He put just enough emphasis on `friend' to leave no doubt that he meant a lady friend. `But I understand that Sophie's performance was something special.'
Ì've never seen anything like it,' Jenny snickered. 'You really missed something, Kyle.'
`The story of my life,' he said, with a cold smile. 'What was so special about it?'
Òh, Sophie's make-up was just amazing.' Jenny's eyes were bright with malicious laughter. 'I couldn't stop laughing. She looked like ... well, like nothing on earth.'
`Really?' Kyle drawled. 'How bizarre.'
`Grotesque would be a better word. I couldn't believe it when I saw her,' Jenny gushed.
'I said I wouldn't have let anyone make me look as awful as that for a thousand pounds! You couldn't imagine it, Kyle.'
`Perhaps I could.' Ice-green eyes were holding Sophie's. 'As a matter of fact, I last met your cousin in Brighton, during the filming of The Elmtree Road Murders, and she presented a very different picture then'
`Then you haven't seen Sophie since she was playing Maisie?' Jenny asked, wide-eyed. 'Gosh, you must hardly recognise her.'
Ì see her with new eyes,' Kyle agreed, but only Sophie caught the razor's edge that lay beneath the bland words.
`Doesn't it surprise you to find how beautiful Sophie really is?' Jenny said, with just enough of a droop of her eyelashes to utterly devalue the statement.
Sophie knew this routine of Jenny's so well, and yet it never ceased to make her wilt.
Jenny was an expert at putting her down in the presence of any remotely attractive male. No matter how close they were, as relations and as friends, when a desirable man was involved Jenny suddenly turned into an utterly ruthless bitch, for whom no hold was barred.
Kyle's gaze left Sophie's face at last, and moved down the length of her body with cool assessment. 'You've changed since then,' he said drily. 'I might not have recognised you, Sophie.'
`Yes,' she said numbly, 'I've changed since Brighton '
`You're another woman,' he said flatly.
By now she knew, with no shadow of a doubt, that Kyle hadn't forgiven her, wasn't going to forgive her. Yet she could not resist probing further, as though there might still be a chance ...
She found the words with an effort. 'But we've met since Brighton, Kyle.'
`Have we?' he raised a negligent eyebrow. 'I'm afraid I must have forgotten.'
She shook her head at him slightly, fighting down the pain. 'I remember it well.'
`How odd!' Jenny, picking up the tension, had scented something juicy. 'Where was that, Sophie?'
`W e bumped into each other once or twice,' Sophie said dully, feeling despair unfold leaden wings inside her.
`Yes,' Jenny persisted, But how come Kyle didn't know who you were?'
`Your cousin is such a very talented young actress,' Kyle said ironically, watching Sophie with ice-green eyes. `Who knows, perhaps I didn't recognise her. Where did we "bump into each other", Sophie?'
Ìf you don't remember,' Sophie said distantly, 'then it hardly matters.'
`But I'm curious,' Kyle said with a cold smile. 'And you've got your cousin intrigued. Do remind me of the occasion.'
Colour was starting to rise hotly into Sophie's face. `We met in Jamaica,' she forced herself to say.
Ìn Jamaica?' Kyle was wearing an expression of cool surprise. 'But, my dear Sophie, I remember nothing about this meeting. I spent ouite some time there, and I certainly don't recall meeting any Sophie Aspen.'
Jenny had been following this exchange with bright, inquisitive eyes. Kyle now turned the full force of his smile on her. 'How delicious to see two such beautiful women together,' he drawled. 'You might almost be sisters. Sophie told me about you.'
`Did she?' Jenny preened.
`She told me you had beauty as well as brains, and I now see that she was understating the case.' He gave Jenny a slow, appreciative once-over. 'Yet your cousin gets all the attention.'
Òh, we have different talents,' Jenny answered with a bright laugh. 'We've never competed.'
Èxcept for men?' Kyle suggested gently.
Òh, Kyle,' Jenny said breathily, 'I've never had to compete with my cousin for men.'
Ì can see why not,' Kyle said meaningfully. 'What a waste for someone as radiant as you to be closeted in the dusty realms of mathematics.'
This was music to Jenny's ears. She glanced triumphantly at a silent Sophie. 'Oh, maths isn't all that dusty. As if happens, I spend most of my time working with a giant computer which positively gleams with cleanliness.'
Ìn a laboratory where no one sees your beauty. I wonder whether your professors appreciate the loveliness that is under their noses?' His voice was tantamount to a caress, and Sophie watched the coquettish droop of her cousin's eyelashes.
Às it happens,' Jenny said mischievously, 'some are more appreciative than others.'
Kyle arched one eyebrow. 'I thought that sort of thing didn't go on.'
Ìt goes on,' Jenny said with heavy innuendo, 'believe me.'
,Àh,' Kyle said softly. 'Well, that doesn't surprise me. You must be a devastating temptation.'
They were ignoring Sophie completely. She was standing like a fool, transfixed with the sick hollowness inside. Jenny's eyes were glowing as she basked in Kyle's attention. 'Anyway,' she said, 'as a banker, you must be something of a mathematician yourself, Kyle?'
Òh, yes. The purity of applied maths has always interested me. Numbers cannot lie.
They can't deceive or cheat, or pretend to be something they're not.'
`But that's exactly what I love about mathematics!' Jenny exclaimed. 'I love the way it's all so unambiguous. There's always an answer, or almost always. Life isn't like that.'
`No,' Kyle said. His eyes glittered at Sophie. 'Life isn't like that, and people aren't like that. I detest dishonesty, above all else. It sickens me.'
Sophie's heart was pounding painfully against her breast-bone. It was far worse than she'd dreamed. He wasn't just indifferent to her. She knew Kyle well enough to sense the radiating anger that blazed beneath his impeccable facade. There was no question of his forgiving her for what she'd done in Jamaica. He was, she knew with sudden certainty, intent on making her pay.
`Don't you agree, Sophie?' he challenged meaningfully.
`Perhaps,' she said in a low voice. But numbers don't have hearts. A thing without a heart can never lie. On the other hand, it can't love, either, or be loved in return.'
Kyle took Jenny's arm casually. 'Do you agree with that?' he asked.
`W ell,' Jenny said, almost purring at the contact, 'I'm no expert on true love. Personally, I reckon it's a lot of irrelevant sentimental idiocy. I prefer straightforward relationships ...' she looked at Kyle from under thick lashes `... without emotional strings.'
`My opinions exactly,' Kyle said, looking into Jenny's eyes with a
dark smile. 'You and I have much in common, Jenny.'
Sophie couldn't stand it any longer. She turned to Jenny pleadingly. 'Jenny,' she said in a quiet voice, `would you give me a moment alone with Kyle?'
Jenny looked angrily back at Sophie. 'What?'
Ì want a private word with Kyle. Just a few minutes.'
`W ell, I really think—'
`Please.'
But don't go far,' Kyle said, giving Jenny another smoky smile. 'I'm sure your cousin won't detain me for long.'
Jenny flounced off indignantly, and stood sulking by the drinks trolley. Sophie looked up into the tanned, rugged face that had haunted her dreams. 'I tried to ring
you, the day I got back to England, but you'd already checked out. Why didn't you get in touch with me?' she asked in a low voice.
`Did you really expect me to?' Kyle asked contemptuously, not bothering to keep up the urbane manner now that Jenny was no longer present.
Ì thought that after what happened between us in Jamaica ...'
`W hat happened between us?' He spoke with such concentrated venom that Sophie dropped her gaze. 'You astonish me, Sophie,' he rasped. 'After that despicable little charade in Jamaica, I find it incredible that you have the face to even approach me.'
She gasped slightly at the force of his anger. 'Kyle, please listen to me,' she begged. 'I didn't want it to be a charade. But I found myself in a corner. I didn't know how to get out of it—'
`You two-faced little fake,' he cut through harshly. `You're the cheapest swindler I've met in a lifetime of dealing with cheap swindlers.'
The colour was draining from Sophie's face. 'That's cruel and unfair—'
`W asn't what you did to me cruel and unfair?' The skin around his eyes was tight with anger. 'I wonder how all your admiring friends would feel about you if I made a speech about your gifts, right now? Would they still respect you once they knew about the fine performance you gave in Jamaica, for the benefit of your captive audience?'
Duel of Passion Page 12