'Tell me,' Saul said quietly. 'It's better out than in, as they say.'
She found herself telling him about the little boy in Cornwall. She'd never talked about it to anyone since, and now the words poured out from some deep, wounded place inside her. 'I'd seen him playing—he was staying at the next hotel—he was a chubby little boy with red hair—he used to wear a blazer that was too big for him ‑' A huge lump came into her throat. 'Oh lord, I'm going to cry again.'
Saul's arms were round her. Her head was against his chest and it was solid and comforting. She bit her lip hard and gradually the tears receded, gradually the pictures in her mind faded, and there was nothing but the warmth of his body through the thin stuff of his shirt and his breath lifting her hair where his head rested and the smell of healthy man's skin. A slow beat of excitement began to rise inside her, swelling, taking her over; mind and body. She began to breathe very quickly.
'Saul ‑' she whispered urgently and her hands went up of their own accord and clasped themselves round his neck. 'Please ‑'
She lifted her face to his and saw a muscle working in his cheek. His eyes were glittering, black as polished jet under those long curving lashes.
'You're sure?' His voice was low and husky.
He was so close and she was aching to feel his mouth on hers. 'Yes,' she gasped. 'Oh yes.'
He stood up, took both her hands and pulled her to her feet, holding her close against him. Then, while their two bodies were moulded together, he lowered his head and kissed her—a long, sensuous kiss that nearly sent her crazy.
'How does this pretty dress fasten?' he muttered. His hands were on the narrow ruffles of the shoulder-straps, pushing them down over her arms so that her breasts were bare. 'Lovely,' he whispered. 'Marvellous,' and she shuddered as his lips closed over first one soft peak and then the other.
Frantically Karen groped behind her waist for the fastening of her dress and finally released it and the slinky satin fell in a heap to the carpet. The froth of white-lace panties followed. She heard Saul's quick intake of breath and for a long moment his eyes moved over her slowly, his face alight with pleasure. Then he lifted her and laid her on the bed. She stretched out sensuously on the smooth cover, waiting. She felt no shyness now, no shame, no regret. She was in love with this man, deep in love and what she was doing was the only possible thing, she wanted to give as well as take.
He flicked off the main switch, so that there was only a glow from the concealed light over the bedside table. In the shadowy dimness she watched him strip off his thin white shirt and toss it over a chair. His trousers followed, then he was beside her on the bed, his mouth on hers, his hands moving everywhere, awakening sensations that rose and sank like the waves of the sea, taking her body with them, drugged with delight. Her hands went round him, tracing the separate parts of his spine, moving round his hips, holding him against her urgently, telling him that her need was as great as his. He must have known that she didn't need lengthy arousal, that she was as hungry for love as he was himself. Their two bodies moved against each other in a kind of desperation, until at last pleasure rose to an unbearable intensity and she heard her own inarticulate cry joining with his groan of pleasure and fulfilment as he called out her name over and over.
At last they lay still, their bodies entwined, the frantic thudding of their hearts gradually quietening, their bodies cooling. Exhaustion was claiming Karen. She felt so relaxed that she was almost boneless, and a lovely lazy, satiated pleasure enveloped her as she felt Saul gently ease her under the bedclothes and then move back to take her into the circle of his arms.
'I love you, Miss Lane,' he said huskily. 'Very much.'
She sighed blissfully. 'And I love you, Mr Marston.' She cuddled up against him and was almost immediately asleep.
She woke to find the sun streaming into the room and Saul, fully dressed, standing beside the bed. He leaned down and kissed her lightly. 'Wake up, sleeping beauty. Time to come down to the cold hard world of business. We have a meeting at ten. There's a cup of coffee for you.' He pointed to the cabinet beside the bed.
Karen' struggled up, stupid with sleep. 'Thanks.' She yawned. 'I don't remember ever sleeping so long before.'
'Ten hours,' he said. 'That should finally make up for all the jet-lag.'
She sipped the hot coffee as he went over to the mirror and raked a comb through his hair and her heart squeezed up as she remembered last night and the feeling of that springy hair under her fingers. She doubted if he was remembering though—he looked very brisk this morning—but of course a night like that wouldn't be earth-shaking for him as it had been for her. He must have had lots and lots of women. Better than her, probably, she thought with a terrible pang of misery.
Not turning round he said, 'I think you should come to the meeting this morning, to savour your success when I make my announcement.'
She nearly jumped out of bed, then remembered that she was completely naked and pulled the duvet round her, which was rather silly after last night. 'Announcement?' she squeaked. 'You mean—you've decided on Ben's company?'
'Right first time,' he said, dead-pan.
She flopped back against the pillows. 'Oh, but that's marvellous—absolutely super. Oh goodness, I'm so glad.'
He turned then and came over to the bed. There was a twinkle in his eye and his lips twitched at the corners. 'I could hardly do anything else after last night, could I? You already know how I conduct my business affairs—bribery and corruption, I think we said.'
He was laughing aloud now, the black eyes glinting. 'Now, suppose you get up and make yourself charming to receive the congratulations from the boys. Have you got your key—I'll go and get something from your room for you to cover up with. I'm not having you galloping around the corridor starkers for anyone to see.'
He was back a minute or two later with her beach coat. 'There you are—now hurry. A quarter of an hour?'
She slid out of bed and wrapped the beach-coat round her in one movement. 'A quarter of an hour,' she promised gaily. She was bubbling with excitement and delight. She felt like an overfilled glass of champagne. Of course last night had nothing to do with his decision—he wasn't a man to allow his business judgment to be swayed by a little love-making. No, Clark's Components had won through on its own merits, and what a marvellous change that was going to make. She wouldn't wait to tell Ben.
Karen's euphoria lasted all through the meeting. It put a golden haze over the long conference table, even over the down-to-earth businessmen sitting round it, their shirt-sleeves rolled up, their faces already shiny with the heat. Only Saul looked cool and completely in control of himself and everyone else. Sitting on his right at the corner of the table she glanced up now and again as he made his preliminary remarks, and each time she felt like hugging herself with delight.
She didn't look ahead, this one day was enough, when she could see him, touch him if she stretched out a hand. Perhaps this afternoon, when the meeting was over, they would drive out somewhere together as they had done yesterday. And after the big dinner tonight—surely they would make love again.
She dragged her thoughts back. Saul was making his announcement now, turning to her with a smile. 'Karen should congratulate herself. As I think you'll all agree she has coped with her assignment very competently, and she has been extremely helpful to me.'
She kept her eyes fixed on the polished table top, not daring to look up. After that she concentrated hard on what was said, making notes on the pad before her so that she could give a full account to Ben. Her mind was occupied, but the rest of her seemed to be floating a few yards above the table, on a pink cloud of happiness.
At mid-day a buffet lunch was served in the lounge adjoining the conference room. Everyone, it seems, wanted to talk to Karen. 'I feel like a film star,' she giggled as Saul came up beside her.
'I'm glad you're not,' he said. 'I prefer a girl with intelligence.' He took two glasses from the tray of a circulating waiter. 'Champagne
all round,' he murmured. 'We have something to celebrate, haven't we?' His dark eyes glinted wickedly into hers, and she felt the heat rise to her cheeks.
Harry Walker appeared beside them. He lifted his glass to Karen. 'Welcome to the club,' he said. 'When do we meet the absent Mr Clark?'
'Oh, he'll want to contact everyone as soon as possible,' Karen said hastily. 'He was so sorry he couldn't be here.'
Harry nodded and looked across her at Saul and as the eyes of the two men met Karen thought she saw a wariness in both of them. 'This little lady has filled the gap admirably,' Harry said. 'She must have been a great help to you, Saul.'
Saul put a proprietory arm round Karen's shoulders. 'Indeed she has. We've got along splendidly together, haven't we, Karen?'
'I bet you have,' Harry said with a meaningful lift of his heavy eyebrows. The look, the words, might have been merely playful, but he didn't look in the least playful. He nodded to them and walked away. He hadn't forgotten what had been between Saul and his wife in the past, that was clear. Perhaps this smooth, sophisticated 'modern' set wasn't quite so smooth after all, Karen thought.
She turned to look at Saul, to see how he was taking Harry's poison-dart, but he seemed quite oblivious. He was urging her through the crush towards the bar. 'Have you had enough to eat? I haven't.'
They ate tacos with chicken, and drank more champagne and Saul said. The meeting's likely to go on for a while yet. Do you want to sit it out—I don't think you need, it's only routine stuff.'
Karen grinned at him hazily. 'After all this champagne, I might doze off.'
He gave her a significant look. 'That was how it all started, wasn't it? That was when I fell in love with you—when you went to sleep on me.'
Karen went very still. The noisy, chattery lounge faded. Had he really said that—'when I fell in love with you'? She stared up into his dark face, her eyes wide, but he looked very much as usual. Perhaps he had been joking—yes, he must have been joking.
He was looking round the lounge, obviously spotting people he wanted to talk to. He said rather absently, 'Will you be able to amuse yourself?'
'Of course,' she said. 'I'll have a siesta then there's always that lovely pool to swim in.'
He nodded. 'Good idea. I was hoping we could get away together this afternoon, perhaps have another sightseeing trip, but I'm afraid I'm going to be busy tying up loose ends with various people. There's always a lot of that to be done at these conferences. However, there's the big dinner tonight at the hotel. I shall make sure we sit together.' He lifted a hand to a man who was passing. 'Peter, have you got a moment?'
Karen made her way out of the lounge and up to her bedroom, rather relieved to be let off the rest of the meeting. It was beautifully cool up here, with the air-conditioning switched on. She lay on her bed and thought blissfully about Saul and remembered every little thing about the last days here with him, turning each tiny incident, each word, over and over like some priceless jewel. 'I love you, love you, love you,' she murmured languorously and with the words on her lips she drifted off into a light sleep.
She didn't know how long she lay there in a dream, half awake and half asleep. Then she was fully awake, hearing movements from Saul's room next door. She glanced at her watch. He must have got through his business early—he would look for her at the pool, maybe come here first.
She slid off the bed and pulled on a flimsy wrapper. A slow heat began to rise through her body, a longing, yearning urgency. If she went to his room—now ‑?
She opened her door and began to walk towards Saul's room as if she were being pulled by a magnet. Just before she reached the door she heard the soft click of the lift closing and shrank back against the wall. Liz Walker came towards her. She was wrapped in a flimsy sea-green cover-up and her wonderful russet hair hung loose round her smooth creamy shoulders. She stopped at Saul's door; then she saw Karen standing there.
'Hul-lo!' A sly smile slid across the crimson mouth and was gone. 'And where are you off to so hopefully? We wouldn't both be on the same errand, would we?' She moved her body sensuously and the wrap swung open to disclose her naked body beneath. 'This time, sweetie, I think your services won't be required.'
She took a couple of steps closer until her face was only inches from Karen's. 'Get lost, there's a good girl. Saul is expecting me and we have few enough opportunities, without you butting in. You've served your purpose here, he won't be needing you again.' She stretched out and tweaked aside Karen's cover-up, which was covering nothing. 'Yes, I thought so. Now, off you go and play somewhere else.'
The sea-green wrapper wafted a cloud of perfume as she moved away. Saul's bedroom door opened and closed again behind her and the corridor was empty and still.
Stiffly, moving her legs very slowly like an old, old woman, Karen went back into her room and stood leaning against the closed door. After a time she managed to get to a chair and sat gripping the arms, staring in front of her, seeing nothing.
From the next room she heard the mumble of voices, Saul's deep and measured, Liz's very slow— the seductive quality penetrated even through the dividing wall. I must get out, Karen thought in desperation. I can't stay here and listen to—listen to— whatever's going to happen. She pressed a fist against her mouth like a child.
She stumbled across the room and pulled down the first dress she came to and dragged it over her head. No bikini now, she had to cover her body, after what Liz had seen. Karen could still hear the contempt in her voice. 'Yes, I thought so.' She boiled inside with anger and shame and humiliation.
She pulled on panties and sandals dragged a comb through her hair. From the next room came Saul's laughter and then Liz's husky laugh mingling with his. They would be laughing about her, Liz saying 'I just ran into that little secretary girl hanging around outside your door. You did a good job on her, darling. Harry thinks you're hooked. He doesn't suspect a thing.' That would be enough to make them both laugh. Oh, she hated them, she hated them both, Saul worst of all because he had used her and manipulated her and betrayed her. Nothing could forgive that.
After the laughter there was a long silence and that was worse. Karen put her hands over her ears and inside her head something screamed, 'Get out—get away.'
The corridor was empty, oppressive. She ran to the lift and pressed the button but nothing moved. She flung herself down the stairway, stumbling, hanging on to the rail with shaking hands, pushed her way through the drifting crowd in the lounge, out into the reception hall.
Once out of the hotel she began to run. The sand was hot, burning through the soles of her sandals. At this time in the afternoon the beach was crowded and she had to weave her way through brown, prostrate bodies to get to the sea. At the margin of the waves she stopped running, nearly falling over into the water. She might go on into the sea. She could almost feel the water coming up to her waist, then up to her shoulders, then—oblivion. That was how she felt just now—aching to wash away the bitterness of humiliation.
She began to giggle hysterically. She couldn't even drown herself—not with all these people around. And anyway, Saul Marston wasn't worth dying for. She felt nothing but angry contempt for him.
Fool that she'd been—stupid, credulous fool. Of course—he'd had it all worked out from the beginning. All that talk about coming to Acapulco with him to represent Ben's company—how much had she done? Precious little. Anyway, he'd probably made up his mind about the company even before he asked Ben to come, and bring her with him. She didn't believe now that there were any other companies for him to choose from. Why should he put his accountant in charge at Lessington, pick up Ben's debts, if he didn't intend to take over the company? No, that had just been his devious way of keeping her on tenterhooks because he wanted to use her for his own underhand purposes. All that business about letting the men think she was his girlfriend—for her protection—that was just eyewash too. Yes, it all hung together. She was the smokescreen set up round his seedy little affair with Liz—so that H
arry shouldn't guess what was still going on between them. Oh, but it was squalid— beastly. She shuddered with distaste.
Max Friend suddenly appeared beside her. 'Where are you off to in such a hurry, my sweet?' He peered into her face. 'Why, what's up, lovie? Something gone wrong? Want to tell Uncle Max?'
She shook her head, biting her lip, not trusting herself to speak and after a moment he tucked her arm in his. 'Let's walk it off then,' he said.
The tide was low, they walked along the edge of the waves. Max said, 'Don't take it to heart, love. Ships that pass in the night and all that. That's how Saul Marston is.'
He knew, he'd seen it coming. And in his own funny way he'd tried to warn her, but she hadn't wanted to be warned. She'd been so pathetically easy to manipulate. Last night she had almost thrown herself at Saul. She'd even imagined she was in love with the man! Moonlight in Acapulco—it had gone to her silly head. She'd been trying to play in his league without knowing the rules. But tomorrow she would get back to Ben—and to sanity.
Tomorrow. But what about the rest of today? Saul Marston still held the future of Ben and Ben's company in his hands and she was still Ben's trusted assistant—here to look after his interests and do the best she could for him. For Ben's sake she had to finish the job she'd come here for, and that certainly didn't include putting Saul Marston down and making an enemy of him. She felt a shiver pass through her as she imagined what his anger would be like. After last night he would be so sure that she would be there for him to amuse himself with, if he felt like it.
A naive little typist from the provinces—easy game, he must have thought. Too ignorant to understand the accepted ways of the sophisticated set he moved in so he could make use of her if he liked. But he could be wrong, Karen thought, with a sudden flare of anger that dulled self-pity and sparked off pride. It would be pleasant to show the great Saul Marston that he could be mistaken.
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