‘Don’t put the telephone down on me again, Farrah!’ Joel warned harshly. ‘Once I can forget, twice is just once too many.’
‘Are you threatening me, Joel? Because if you are, I—’
‘Farrah!’ he snapped at her firmly. ‘Just calm down. You’re too quick to jump to conclusions where I’m concerned. It seems to be true of both of us. I haven’t called you the last couple of days because I thought it better to let you get over your anger with me in peace and quiet. Also, I’ve been pretty tied up, trying to cram another week’s work into forty-eight hours so that I can return to England.’
Her heart leapt. ‘You’re coming home?’ She couldn’t keep the excitement out of her voice.
‘Tomorrow evening some time,’ he confirmed.
‘Oh, Joel! That’s—that’s—that will be nice,’ she amended.
‘I’m hoping it will be more than that, but we’ll talk about that tomorrow.’
‘You want me to meet you? No—’ she said shakily, ‘of course you don’t.’
‘Honey, if I knew what time I’d be arriving I’d want you there, only you. But I can’t be sure of my arrival time. What I want you to do is go to my apartment and wait for me there. You’ll be expected.’
‘I—I will? By whom?’
He gave a throaty chuckle. ‘An American edition of George. Soames is as much the correct English butler as an American can be. I’ll make sure he expects you tomorrow evening.’ He went on to give her detailed directions on how to get there.
‘Will you be late? What time should I go to your apartment?’ She would be there at daybreak if necessary. All she wanted was to see Joel again, to perhaps be held in his arms, even if only in pretence.
‘I’m hoping to arrive on the seven o’clock flight, so I should be at the apartment for eight o’clock at the latest. Seven-thirty should be time enough.’
‘All right.’ She had to wait all that time! It would seem like years.
‘I’ll have to go now, honey. You’ll be there tomorrow?’
Try and keep her away! ‘I’ll be there,’ she promised.
* * *
She dressed the next evening with more than her usual care; she wanted Joel to think her attractive. It was so important to her that she must have changed at least ten times. Clothes were strewn all over her bedroom, and she still wasn’t satisfied with the result. She wanted to look sophisticated and alluring, to attract Joel to her again as he undoubtedly had been before leaving for America.
None of her clothes seemed right, and she sat down dejectedly. She had even been out this afternoon and bought two new dresses, and yet when she had returned home and fitted them on again she decided she didn’t like either of them. The black flower print made her look like a schoolgirl, which she certainly didn’t feel like in Joel’s company, and the emerald green dress that matched her eyes was altogether too revealing for a casual evening spent at his apartment.
As his apartment! She would be completely alone with him—except for the respectable Soames—and she hadn’t forgotten where their ‘conversation’ had left off. Her cheeks flamed. Oh no, she hadn’t forgotten at all! And she hoped he hadn’t either. Oh God, was it bad to think this way? If it was there was nothing she could do about it. She loved Joel, it was as simple as that.
She still wasn’t satisfied with her final choice, but time was passing and already it was almost seven o’clock. The pink and black flower-print skirt and black blouse weren’t exactly what she had in mind when thinking of dazzling Joel, but at least they suited her, emphasising her slender body and fair colouring.
She finally dashed out of her bedroom at seven-fifteen, still holding her hands outstretched as she waited for her nail varnish to dry properly. Her father sat in front of the television, looking up with a smile as she moved about the room putting things into her handbag.
‘So you’re going, are you?’ he quirked an eyebrow.
Farrah sighed. ‘I already told you I was.’
‘I’ve been thinking things over, love,’ he stood up, ‘and if this is what you want then I’m not going to offer any more objections. I can’t interfere in your life any more. I believe you love him, and that’s enough for me.’
She gave him a hug, kissing his cheek lovingly. ‘I love you, Daddy!’
He squeezed her hands. ‘I know you do, love, but you love Joel Falcone too. Off you go and see him.’
‘Thank you, Daddy.’
She looked up at the tall building, apprehensive about actually going up to the penthouse apartment. It wasn’t eight o’clock yet, so the chances were that Joel hadn’t arrived. What would Soames think of her? More to the point, what had Joel told him about her, that is, if Joel considered he had to tell his butler anything at all. She was later than her stated time, but she blamed this on her inability to locate a taxi; there was never one about when you really needed one.
After assuring the man at the desk that she was expected she was allowed to go up in the lift to the penthouse apartment. The receptionist would undoubtedly call straight up to the apartment anyway, to say she was on her way. The lift doors opened straight into a reception room, a room such as she had never seen before. Leather armchairs, a deep-pile carpet and genuine antiques placed at strategic points about the room all added up to the same luxury Joel surrounded himself with at his country home.
She looked up uncertainly as a door opened on the far side of the room, and a man came across the carpet towards her. The soft golden glow that illuminated the room didn’t allow for perfect vision, but it enabled her to see that this man was much younger than her imaginings, he couldn’t be more than thirty, and he probably wasn’t even that old.
She waited expectantly as he approached her. There was something vaguely familiar about him, but she didn’t know what it was. And he didn’t act like any manservant she had ever seen before! He was carrying a tumbler half full of whisky—at least, it looked like whisky.
He raised a dark enquiring eyebrow at her, his eyes totally assessing as he looked her up and down. He obviously liked what he saw because he was smiling by the time those laughing blue eyes met hers, and the familiarity Farrah had thought she detected had disappeared completely.
‘What can I do for you?’ His voice was deep and attractive, and much more of a drawl than Joel’s.
‘I—er—I came to see Joel.’
The man gave a mocking smile, sipping casually at the whisky. Looking at him closer she thought he didn’t look much like a manservant either, dressed in a well-fitting navy suit and a lighter blue shirt opened casually at the neck, and his hair grew low over his collar. ‘Didn’t we all?’ he drawled.
‘I—he isn’t here?’ Really! This man was so annoying. She was surprised at Joel employing such a man. He didn’t act like an employee at all, dressed as he was and drinking Joel’s whisky as if he did it every day of his life. Perhaps he did! Surely Joel couldn’t know how he behaved in his absence? And the way he looked at her! So insolent.
‘No, he isn’t here. Why don’t you come in and talk to me instead?’
‘When are you expecting Joel?’ she asked stiffly. The familiarity of the man!
‘Any time now. But I don’t think he’s expecting you.’
Her eyes widened. ‘You don’t? But I—’
‘You could find it very embarrassing being here when he arrives,’ he interrupted her.
‘I could?’ she repeated stupidly.
‘Very,’ he agreed, smiling. ‘Joel’s lady-love is coming here tonight, and she’s likely to scratch your eyes out.’
Laura! It had to be her. How could Joel be this cruel to her! He had had all day to let her know she wasn’t wanted here tonight. He would be here in a moment, and Laura was sure to be with him. She had to get out of here before they arrived. She was shaking all over and her hands were perspiring with nervousness. She couldn’t stand another encounter with Laura Bennett, especially in front of Joel.
‘I—er—I have to go now. If you aren
’t expecting Joel I may as well leave.’
‘Hey!’ He moved towards her, a tall man, lean and attractive in a rakish sort of way. ‘I didn’t say I wasn’t expecting him, I said I thought he might be otherwise engaged. You don’t have to leave, at least, not alone. Will I do as a substitute? I know I’m not quite up to Joel’s standard, but I’m a pretty fair replica.’
Farrah was outraged. ‘How dare you? Just what do you think I am!’
‘It’s what you’re not that’s important.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Like I told you, Joel’s lady-love will be here any moment now. And that isn’t you.’
‘I’m leaving!’ she said firmly.
‘Alone?’
‘Of course, alone! I don’t know what sort of employee you are, but I’m sure Joel doesn’t know of your behaviour. Personally, I find you very rude.’
‘I’m not an employee.’
‘Don’t lie on top of everything else! You brazenly stand there drinking your employer’s whisky, walking about the place as if you own it! Joel would sack you if he could see you now.’
He gave a deep laugh, putting down his glass and moving towards her. Farrah backed away, not liking the devilish glint she could see in those determined blue eyes. ‘Joel wouldn’t sack me, honey,’ he said softly. ‘Even if I did work for him, which I don’t.’
‘Then who are you?’ she asked shrilly. ‘Leave me alone! Don’t come any nearer!’
Her words had no effect and he only advanced further, pinning her to the wall with the look in his eyes. ‘Don’t be so angry, honey. I could be just as nice to you as Joel.’
‘Stop it!’ she said breathlessly, pushing him away. God, this was a nightmare! ‘Just leave me alone!’
‘What the hell is going on here?’ A deep familiar voice rang out around the room. Joel! Farrah looked at him thankfully, but the harshness of his face did nothing to encourage her. ‘Richie, what are you doing here?’ he demanded of the man at her side.
Farrah looked at the two of them in horror. This was Richie, Joel’s brother? Oh no!
CHAPTER ELEVEN
RICHIE shrugged, and now Farrah knew why he had seemed so familiar. He had a definite look of Joel about his lean muscular frame, dark hair and deep blue eyes. Not as handsome as Joel, but an attractive man in his own right. But how could she have been expected to know who he was? She had naturally assumed him to be Soames, and he hadn’t offered any other explanation.
Now he grinned at his older brother. ‘I came to see you.’
Joel moved further into the room, throwing his briefcase into one of the armchairs. ‘You came to see me?’ he repeated. ‘I only spoke to you yesterday.’
‘And what a conversation! I had to see this paragon for myself.’
Joel’s mouth twisted with wry humour. ‘Is that why you were attacking her when I came in?’ he quirked a mocking eyebrow.
Richie’s mouth dropped, and he looked at Farrah with open amazement. ‘This is Farrah?’ he queried disbelievingly. ‘But I thought—well, I thought—’
‘Yes? Just what did you think? That Farrah would be like Laura?’ Joel’s amusement was evident as he helped himself to a liberal amount of whisky. He was dressed quite casually in black trousers, a black shirt, and a cream jacket fitted tautly across his shoulders.
His words reminded Farrah of Laura’s imminent arrival, not that Joel seemed particularly concerned. For all the notice he was taking of her she might just as well not be here. ‘I—I think I should be going now.’ She made a move towards the lift doors, but Joel was quicker than her, blocking her exit quite effectively.
‘Not you, Farrah,’ he said deeply, the look in his eyes demanding that she stay. ‘Richie’s the one who’s leaving.’
‘Oh, but—’ she began.
‘Richie!’ Joel said hardly.
Farrah’s eyes darkened with the effort it cost her to say the next words. ‘But Miss Bennett! She should be here any moment. I can’t meet her again, I just can’t!’
Joel looked from Richie to Farrah and then back to his brother again. ‘What have you been saying now?’ he asked with a sigh.
Richie shook his dark head. ‘I haven’t mentioned Laura. What would I have to say about her?’
‘You tell me. Farrah?’
She looked from one to the other of them blankly. ‘Your brother said Laura was coming here.’
Richie looked puzzled. ‘I did? I don’t even remember mentioning her. I try not to think of her at all. I—wait a minute! You thought I meant Laura?’ he grinned. ‘Far from it!’
‘Thought you meant Laura in what?’ Joel watched them through narrowed eyes.
‘I knew you were expecting Farrah. The only trouble was, I didn’t realise Farrah was Farrah, if you know what I mean.’
‘I see. Well, she’s here, you’ve settled your curiosity about her so now you can leave.’
‘I could just have come here to see you.’
Joel gave a mocking grin. ‘But you didn’t.’
‘Okay,’ his brother grinned back, ‘I’m going now. I know when I’m not wanted. Nice to have met you, Farrah. Give me time and you might even come to like me too. I’m sorry about the mistake earlier, I didn’t realise who you were.’
She accepted his apology with a vague smile, her thoughts too chaotic for her to answer him sensibly. Richie had called her Joel’s lady-love! What did it mean? Surely Joel wouldn’t have told his own brother that she was truly his girl-friend. It didn’t ring true, Joel had no need to go to the extreme of lying to his own family, especially as Laura didn’t seem to be too popular in that direction. And yet what other explanation was there? The answer wasn’t acceptable to her—well, it was acceptable, but slightly unbelievable.
‘Goodbye, Richie,’ Joel said firmly.
The lift doors closed with a swish and a curious silence settled over the room. Joel turned as a man entered the room. ‘Good evening, Soames.’
‘Mr Falcone. Will you be requiring dinner?’
‘Farrah?’
‘No, thank you.’ She couldn’t eat a thing. She felt as if she were waiting for something, and the suspense was killing her. Joel hadn’t even said hello to her properly yet!
‘I ate on the plane, thanks, Soames,’ Joel dismissed. ‘Although I could do with a pot of coffee.’
‘Coffee for two, sir?’
‘Right.’ Joel put down his empty whisky glass. ‘Let’s go through to the lounge, Farrah.’
She followed him silently, appreciating the luxury and comfort of the room they now entered. Low cream armchairs, a thick brown carpet, an ebony cocktail cabinet and the most sophisticated stereo unit Farrah had ever seen, all found full approval in her eyes. Joel dropped unceremoniously into one of the low armchairs, throwing his cream jacket carelessly on the floor.
He heaved a tired sigh as Soames brought in the tray of coffee, placing it silently on the smoked glass coffee-table before quietly leaving the room again. Farrah still stood just inside the room, fidgeting awkwardly with the strap to her shoulder bag. Why didn’t he say something to her? When he did finally speak it wasn’t what she had been expecting at all.
Joel lay back in the chair, his eyes closed. ‘Pour me some coffee, honey,’ he requested softly. ‘Black, plenty of sugar.’
She handed him a cup of steaming liquid. ‘Are you not feeling well?’
He sat forward, taking a thirsty gulp of the sweet hot liquid. ‘I’m feeling fine—tired, but fine.’
‘You’ve been working hard?’ she asked softly.
‘Very,’ he gave a wry smile. ‘I haven’t slept in seventy-two hours.’
‘You must be exhausted!’ she said concernedly.
‘A little,’ he agreed. ‘But I wanted to get back to England. The first time I was ever in a hurry to return here. I didn’t even have time to see my mother while I was in the States, which won’t please her when she finds out I was there for a week. Richie will no doubt tell her, he has a penchant for
making mischief.’
‘I noticed,’ she said dryly.
‘What exactly was happening when I arrived? And for goodness’ sake, sit down!’
She sat down opposite him, studying his face avidly as if engraving his features forever in her brain. She was hungry for the sight and feel of him. This polite conversation was time-wasting when all she wanted was his arms about her and the hard feel of his body against hers. Why didn’t he kiss her, carry on where they had finished at their last meeting? And this time she would say yes. Yes, yes, yes!
She blushed now. ‘Your brother thought I was—I was—’
‘I see,’ he gave a half-smile. ‘He isn’t very observant, is he?’
‘What do you mean?’ She looked at him sharply.
‘Your eyes.’
Strangely his words made her feel tearful. ‘Do you have to?’ she said brokenly, averting her eyes at his searching look. His reference to her innocence only put them further apart.
‘Have to what?’
‘Make reference to my eyes. You surely didn’t invite me here to talk about my eyes?’
‘No,’ he shook his head. ‘I have a question to put to you. The reason your father took the money, I have to know it.’
‘Why?’
‘It’s important to me,’ he said simply.
Farrah stood up, turning away from him. ‘Why should it be important to you now?’ she asked fiercely. ‘It wasn’t before! You couldn’t have given a damn why he stole the money, you were only interested in what his mistake could give you. And it gave you me. On a silver platter!’
‘Tell me!’
‘Why should I? You’ve bullied me for so long, Joel, a lifetime it seems to me. I told you my father stole for a good reason. I wanted to tell you why, but you wouldn’t listen to me. Why should I tell you now, just because you decide it’s the right time for you to know?’
‘It’s important to me, Farrah,’ he repeated quietly.
‘It was imporant to me too at one time. Did you ever think of that? No, of course you didn’t! Well, I’ll tell you, Joel, but not because you want to know, but because I want to tell you. My mother was dying, Joel, dying! And my father loved her so much that nothing was too wrong or too dangerous for him to do for her. She needed expert nursing, specialised treatment, and all that costs money, money my father didn’t have. So he stole it. He stole for love.’ By this time the tears were streaming down her cheeks, unchecked and unnoticed. It was as if a dam had burst inside her and she couldn’t stop it. ‘Something you wouldn’t understand,’ she added brokenly.
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