by Janet Dailey
"I don't have any choice," Dane said wryly. "It's more or less obligatory on both sides. Ruby has invited some of the local dignitaries and the press over for drinks. It's good public relations—and good publicity. It's good for her, and for this television special of mine," he explained. "It's one of those business affairs masquerading as a social event."
Pet wasn't exactly sure why he was telling her this. It wasn't really any of her business what this party was for or why he felt obligated to attend. But the fact that he had made her feel…well, a little important.
"That's often the case in the entertainment business, I've heard," she offered in sympathy.
"Have you ever been to one of these parties?" Dane asked, tipping his head to one side and smiling faintly.
"Heavens, no!" she laughed.
"Why don't you come with me tonight?" he suggested. "Then you'll always know what you're not missing."
For a minute she thought he was serious, then she wasn't sure. "You don't want me along." She shook her head, her long blond hair swinging loose about her shoulders, and started to climb the last steps to the van door.
"I wouldn't have asked if I didn't want you come with me, Pet." His voice was low and almost deadly serious.
Startled, she looked back. There wasn't a hint of mockery or amusement in his roughly hewn features. His look was silently questioning as he patiently waited for her answer.
"But I'm not dressed for a party…" Pet managed a faint protest to give him a chance to back out of the invitation if he wanted to.
"As you can see, neither am I." He lifted his hands in a gesture to indicate the casualness of his beige silk shirt and brown slacks. "But I'm going like this. And they can hardly turn you away when you're with me. Are you coming? It will be a new experience for you. I can't say it will be one you'll want to repeat, but—"
"I'll never know, though—" she began.
"That's right," he agreed.
"Okay," Pet accepted, and shrugged, trying to be as offhand about the invitation as he was. "Why not?"
But she knew precisely why she was accepting. She wasn't at all curious about what the party might be like, nor the experience of it. It was the chance to spend a couple of hours with him that she was accepting. It was crazy, and probably foolish, but that was the truth.
"Go get your bag, I'll wait here for you," Dane said, and rested an arm on the railing at the bottom step.
The word "wait" reminded her. "Charlie's waiting for me. He thinks I'm going back to the hotel."
"I'll tell him to leave without you, that you'll be with me. The gang will really be confused then," he grinned. "I'll meet you here."
"Okay," she agreed.
When she opened the trailer door, Dane had disappeared into the semidarkness. Pet didn't understand this spell he had cast over her. One minute she was infuriated with him, and in the next he could have her melting in his arms. It didn't make sense, but she wasn't sure if it had to.
Her bag was right where she had left it, tucked under the bench seat inside the door. She glanced once at the multitude of television monitors across the control panel, the screens glassy and gray, all the little lights out. Behind the panel, out of sight behind the partition, was the sophisticated computer that controlled everything and turned the semi trailer van into a portable television studio, complete with all the latest electronic gear. Pet shuddered to think how much it cost, or how wealthy that made Dane, since he owned it.
Chapter Six
A POWERFUL SPORTS-MODEL JAGUAR made short work of the drive to the star's hotel. Pet was surprised at how easy it had been to talk shop with Dane, as easy as it was to chat with the boys in the crew. Of course, his knowledge was far more encompassing than hers. Perhaps that was what had made his comments all the more interesting and thought-provoking.
Things she had previously regarded only from the production side, she now began to consider from the management and executive side. She had learned a great deal. She was almost sorry when Dane guided her out of the elevator and down the hallway to Ruby Gale's suite, because it meant their private conversation was coming to an end.
Gradually she realized the reason for her regret was more subtle than that. Discussing television kept her from thinking about Dane as a male escort. She had been using the talk as a defense mechanism to keep that sense of physical attraction at bay.
She realized it while they were standing in the hallway at the door to the suite, waiting for Dane's knock to be answered. His hand had found the curve of her waist, his palm covering her hipbone. The warmth of his touch was melting through her clothes to her skin, heating her flesh with an awareness of him.
Under the sweep of her lashes she slid him a look out of the corner of her eye. His roughly sculpted profile caught at her breath, disrupting its evenness. She was struck again by his height, something she didn't notice about most men since they generally weren't so much taller than she was.
As if he felt her eyes upon him, Dane's gaze swept down on her in a lazy caress that upset her heartbeat. She quivered all over inside with the desire to have him make love to her. It was faintly shocking to be so completely aroused by just a look. In delightful agitation she averted her gaze to the door, her ivory-smooth features hinting at this inner disturbance through the fluttering of her lashes and the tilting of her chin.
Dane's hand applied slight pressure on her hipbone as if he wanted to pull her closer. "You look very lovely," he murmured, and she guessed the reassurance was intended to eradicate any nervousness about her appearance. But how could she explain that a Dior gown wouldn't change the physical reaction erupting from his nearness?
"Thank you." It was a breathy answer, barely audible.
With excellent timing, the door was opened to the suite by the same woman who had given Pet the message for Dane. The polite smile she gave Dane faltered when she saw Pet with him. "Good evening, Mr. Kingston. Miss Gale will be so glad you could come."
"Hello, Clancy." There was a ghost of mockery in the look he gave the officious brunette. "You remember Miss Wallis, don't you?" he prompted as he swept Pet along with him inside the suite.
"Of course." Behind the polite nod, it was obvious the woman was trying to figure out what Pet was doing with Dane. "Miss Gale is—" The woman took a step, obviously intending to take them to their hostess.
"I see her, Clancy," Dane interrupted, glancing across the room.
Ruby Gale's red hair was a beacon, standing out in the crowd of people, mostly men. Pet had spied her almost instantly, too, but mostly she was staring at the decor of the suite. It boggled, the imagination.
Pink. Everywhere there were shades of pink from the thick, powder-puff carpet to the rose velvet sofas and chairs. On nearly every other antiqued-white tabletop there were vases of flowers, mainly dark pink roses. White woodwork outlined the pastel print silk covering the walls. Even the caterers were wearing dark rose red jackets over black trousers. Pet felt as if she was gawking as Dane guided her into the main room of the suite.
Removing two glasses of champagne from a proffered tray, he pressed one into her hand, and her gaze flickered to his face in faint surprise. Amusement glittered openly in his velvet brown eyes at her stunned reaction to the room. She let her gaze sweep around it again before lifting the glass to sip the bubbling wine.
"I thought hotel suites like this existed only in Hollywood movies," she commented.
"It's horrendous, isn't it?" he agreed, keeping his voice low, too. "You should see the main bedroom. It has a round bed with a red velvet canopy draped into a rose design. I think I prefer mirrors to staring at giant red roses above my head."
A sick feeling weighted Pet's stomach. Was he speaking from experience? Of course he was. She was angry with herself for even questioning it. How else would he have known about the bed unless he'd lain in it? Only a completely naive fool would believe he had only been testing the mattress for firmness. And she wasn't naive. She had always suspected—known—that h
e and Ruby were lovers, so why had she accepted his invitation to this party? The answer was so plainly simple. She had a fatal fascination for this sexy, exciting man who could enrage or arouse her by turns.
This inability to resist him made her feel spineless. She took another sip of champagne, wildly hoping the effervescent spirits would temporarily stiffen her backbone. The constricting muscles in her throat rejected it with a tiny choking cough.
"I'm surprised the champagne isn't pink," she managed at last, her long fingers delicately covering her lips.
"Ruby probably didn't think of it." A smile twitched the corners of Dane's mouth as his gaze ran interestedly over her face, a little aloof. "I told you this would be an experience. You find it distasteful, don't you?"
There were many things she found distasteful, mainly the discovery that she was envious of Ruby Gale for the time she had spent with Dane in that round bed with the rose canopy. Although her features were schooled not to reveal her feelings, her expressive sea-green eyes obviously reflected them for Dane to see. Since he had misguessed the cause, she didn't choose to enlighten him.
"This suite, it's all so phony." Pet shrugged to show her dislike of it, lowering her gaze to the sparkling liquid in the crystal wineglass.
Dane's fingers touched her cheek to turn her face to him, then moved away. "And you aren't, are you?" He studied her more closely as if discovering something he hadn't noticed before.
Pet became uneasy under his scrutiny and immediately Dane ended it, shifting his gaze to the room of people, buzzing with hearty conversations that rang false.
"This is all part of the image," he said, a sweeping glance encompassing everything. "All of these people would have been disappointed and disillusioned if this suite had turned out to be no different from any they could have rented for one night. Ruby Gale is a star. Nothing ordinary would suit her—in their eyes. A star deserves to be surrounded by a spectacle. Ruby is smart. She gives them what they want. It keeps them coming back for more."
His narrowed gaze drifted back to Pet. She wondered if that explanation was true for him, as well. "It's fake, a fantasy world of red-hots and candy canes—sugar and spice wrapped up in glitter and sequins. It's called packaging the product."
"I suppose that's true," Pet conceded with a trace of his cynicism.
"You haven't been formally introduced to the 'product,' have you?" Dane remembered, and closed a hand on her elbow. "We'd better correct that omission before Ruby starts throwing real poisonous darts instead of invisible ones."
Following the direction of his callously amused glance, Pet saw their hostess through a gap in the cluster of guests. Her long hair was about her white shoulders in a mass of titian curls. The daringly cut spangled gown was the same peacock-blue shade as her eyes—eyes that glittered with impatience and irritation whenever they rested on Dane, which was often.
When Dane and Pet had weaved their way through the crowd to the star's side, Ruby Gale gave Dane one of her radiantly provocative smiles. "I wondered when you were going to show up, darling," she chided him playfully for his tardiness, and curved a scarlet-nailed hand along the back of his neck when he bent to greet her with a kiss.
Their lips clung together a few seconds longer than-the length of a merely casual kiss. Pet was prepared for the violent surge of rage that shook her. She stood motionless, her face frozen into blankness, while the three men Ruby had been speaking to exchanged knowing glances and raised eyebrows.
When Dane lifted his head, the star wiped the traces of lipstick from his mouth with her fingers. The gesture, more than the kiss, implied a longstanding familiarity and intimacy between them. It was also possessive. Pet was rigidly aware that Dane didn't protest against any of it.
Then the redhead was linking both her arms though the crook of his elbow, further staking her claim to him while turning to the trio she was with. "You all know Dane Kingston—my producer, my director, my—" Ruby paused deliberately, sweeping him a look through her long lashes as if exchanging a secret "—dear friend."
The phrase drew a faint smile from Dane, which made a total mockery of it. Pet would have slipped away, but he chose that moment to remember she was with him and turned to take her hand, drawing her within the circle. She half expected to be murdered by Ruby's blue eyes, but they seemed blank of expression when they regarded her. Her burgundy-glossed lips were parted in a welcoming smile of interest.
"I don't believe I know this young woman, do I, Dane?" she asked, and extended an open hand to Pet.
Pet let her hand be clasped warmly by the star and even managed a stiff smile. Pride kept her head high while a defensiveness masked her gaze with a wary coolness.
"How do you do, Miss Gale," she greeted the redhead with exaggerated politeness.
"You haven't actually met her before, Ruby," Dane explained. "But you have spent the last few days looking at her without knowing it. This is Petra Wallis. She's been operating the number-two camera."
"The center one?" Now the star's gaze became sharp, slicing Pet into unimportant pieces. "You actually have a woman in sole charge of a camera? I didn't realize you were so liberated in your views, Dane. You've never exhibited that tendency before."
"Haven't I? Maybe you just never noticed," he suggested, turning aside the comment.
"Are you his token female, Miss Wallis?" the star inquired archly. In explanation to the other men, Ruby Gale defended her question. "With all these new laws nowadays about hiring women for traditionally male jobs, it's almost mandatory for an employer to hire a woman if she applies for a position. Me, I'm not in favor at all of this new equality for women. I love being the weaker sex, and dominated by a big, strong man." Her glance at Dane made it obvious who that "big, strong man" was.
Pet seethed with jealousy and the sensation of betrayal by one of her own kind. What Ruby Gale was insinuating was insulting and demeaning to her. Worse, the three men with their glasses of champagne and lascivious looks were nodding agreement with Ruby Gale's remarks.
"I can assure you that I wasn't forced to hire Miss Wallis," Dane inserted lazily. "Her sex had nothing to do with her employment. I doubt if it was even taken into consideration by anyone in the company."
His support didn't bring the reassurance that it should have. Instead, one of the younger men—a reporter by the cynical look of him—gave Pet an assessing look that stripped her quite naked. Anger flashed in her eyes, the turbulent green of storm-tossed seas.
"I certainly could never interview you, Miss Wallis, without being conscious of your sex," he remarked suggestively, and everyone chuckled in total agreement.
Pet struggled to contain her anger. Usually she could ignore such biased and prejudiced remarks from men, dismissing them as small remarks from small minds. Yet she was bristling from them.
"It's a shame that employers are forced by law to hire incompetent help. It's so expensive in the long run," Ruby Gale was saying, and turned to Dane. "just look at all the delays and technical problems we encountered taping this concert simply because of one or two unskilled members of the crew."
"As a professional, Ruby, you know there are always problems of one kind or another," Dane stated with a hard glint in his eyes. "But you certainly can't blame Miss Wallis. She's the best technician in the company—that's why I put her on camera two. When you're on center stage you deserve to have the best covering you, so I made certain you had it. You'll see for yourself when we review the tapes of tonight's performance."
"My, my!" The redhead blinked her startling blue eyes and teased him with a smile. "Such praise coming from you, Dane!" Her gaze shifted to Pet, who had been stunned and skeptical of his assertive defense. "You must be very flattered."
"I am," she admitted, since flattery also implied exaggeration.
"Is that why you brought Miss Wallis to the party? As a reward for all her work?" Ruby questioned, and rose on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. "How sweet of you, darling! You really are very thoughtful."
&nb
sp; The conclusion Ruby had reached sent Pet's mind racing. Was that the explanation for this unexpected invitation? Was she to regard her attendance at this party as a bonus for a job well done? She had liked it better when she believed it was just a friendly invitation.
"I'm not certain if Pet would agree with you, Ruby." Dane commented, and sent a roguish glance in her direction. "I think she's convinced I'm a cross between an ogre and a tyrant."
"You neglected to mention an interfering busybody," Pet reminded him smoothly.
"So I did," he agreed, and lifted his champagne glass in wry acknowledgement of the omission.
"What's this all about?" Ruby glanced from one to the other, suspicion shimmering in her hard blue eyes.
"A minor rebellion in the ranks against authority." Dane dismissed their previous skirmishes with an indifferent shrug of a shoulder and sipped at his wine. "I neglected to tell you how sensational you were this evening, Ruby. You had the audience in the palm of your beautiful hand all the time."
Diverted by his compliment, the redhead beamed, "Thank you, darling."
"Hear, hear," one of the men murmured in agreement, and lifted his glass in a silent toast to her successful performance.
"Yes, to a very triumphant performance by our own Jersey Lily." A second man made it a verbal salute.
"In case you men haven't noticed it, your star is a tiger lily—a wild, exotic flower," Dane remarked with an admiring glance running warmly over the titian-haired entertainer.
Pet could almost see the reporter making a mental note of the phrase. She was certain it would show up somewhere in the postperformance publicity.
"You know all the right things to say to make a woman feel special, Dane," Ruby purred, and let her hand glide along his arm to curl her fingers through his. "I should be upset with you for bringing a blond to my private party, but here I am—putty in your hands."
"Never putty," he denied, and lifted her fingers to his mouth with continental ease; "Rare blue clay, maybe."
Her faint laugh was a low, throaty sound. "I never know whether to believe you. I guess that's part of your dangerous charm," the star suggested. For once, Pet was in total agreement with the red-haired performer, regarding her assessment of Dang Kingston.