The Bride of Santa Barbara Page 7

  ‘Sure,’ agreed Sunny. Once again her brown eyes met Beth’s with a challenging, speculative expression. Then she gave a faint, twisted smile. ‘Take my advice, honey, and be very careful what you do from here on. There are a lot of wolves in this town and they don’t hesitate to gobble up babes in the wood. I’d hate to see you get hurt.’

  Beth gave her a startled glance and murmured some inaudible reply. What on earth did Sunny mean? Was she warning Beth off Daniel? If so, she needn’t bother, thought Beth sourly. After getting the brush-off today, I’m hardly likely to go chasing after him. Not that I ever was! And Warren is just as bad. She didn’t ask herself why Daniel’s flirtation with Sunny should cause her so much more pain and anger than Warren’s clumsy attempt to gloss over their quarrel. All she felt was a childlike urge to bolt and run for cover.

  Somehow she managed to keep her head high and a smile on her face as Daniel shepherded her though the crowd to the edge of the terrace. But once they were safely inside the lift she gave up all pretence of control. Closing her eyes, she leaned her head against its wall and fought back tears.

  ‘Warren?’ asked Daniel.

  She nodded wordlessly. It was easier and less humiliating to agree than to try and explain her complicated feeling about Sunny.

  ‘That bastard,’ said Daniel softly. ‘Here, take this.’ He handed her a clean white handkerchief. ‘No tears until we’re safely out of this place. There may still be photographers down on the sidewalk and I want you smiling when you walk past them. Got it?’

  Beth opened her eyes and took a long, shuddering breath.

  ‘Got it,’ she agreed.

  But her lips twisted bitterly as she scrubbed her face with Daniel’s handkerchief. How easy and convenient for Daniel to assume that Warren was the sole cause of her distress! As if his own behaviour in kissing her passionately and then falling all over some actress didn’t matter a damn. Well, it probably didn’t to him, she reflected grimly. Men were all the same, especially men with smouldering animal magnetism. Untrustworthy and interested in only one thing. But he’s not getting it from me, thought Beth, so he’d better not try again! By the time they reached Daniel’s apartment her misery had subsided to a hollow ache in the pit of her stomach. When Daniel opened the door into the marble-floored entrance hall, with its huge gilt mirrors and claw-footed antique tables, she felt a rush of relief almost as if she were coming home. After the tension of the day the apartment seemed like a welcome refuge. And, although Beth had an ominous feeling that there was a confrontation brewing, she was content to postpone it as long as possible.

  ‘Go and sit in the living-room and take it easy while I fix you a drink,’ Daniel ordered.

  Obediently she slogged into the living-room, kicked off her shoes and flopped on to a deep cream leather couch. Two minutes later Daniel appeared beside her, hauled her into a sitting position and thrust a large gin and tonic into her hand. She took a sip of the chilled, bitter drink and shuddered.

  ‘Right,’ said Daniel as briskly as if he were chairing a meeting. ‘The first thing you need to do is get rid of that goddamned Warren. So why don’t you call him up right now and tell him it’s all over?’

  Beth choked on her drink. The arrogance of this suggestion took her breath away and it was several moments before she could speak.

  ‘Why? To clear the way for you?’ she flared.

  Daniel shrugged indifferently.

  ‘It would certainly make things easier for our relationship.’

  There was a tense silence, broken only by Beth’s incredulous gasp for air.

  ‘I don’t believe I’m hearing this!’ she spluttered. ‘What relationship? The one you’re hoping to have with me when Sunny Martino is too busy to oblige you?’

  A twisted smile played around the corners of Daniel’s mouth.

  ‘So, it upset you to see me with Sunny, did it?’

  ‘I didn’t say that!’

  ‘You didn’t have to,’ he growled, seizing her arm. ‘It’s written all over you!’

  Beth’s heart hammered wildly and she had to consciously resist the impulse to sink into Daniel’s embrace. His hard brown fingers were gripping her arm and it would have been easy, so fatally easy to bring her right hand over to cover his. She could almost feel the warmth of his wrist, the coarse dark hair, the tension of muscle and sinew. But if she yielded to the urge to let her fingers flutter over his, to look up into his eyes, she would be lost. There would be no going back. Because she wanted Daniel Pryor as she had never wanted any man in her life. And if she touched him, or looked at him, he would guess the truth. Dropping her gaze, she broke away from him in panic. ‘I’m just telling you that I’m not prepared to be some kind of sex object for you. Good enough to kiss in private, but not fit to be acknowledged in public! I was just a little interlude before you got back to your real interest, Sunny Martino, wasn’t I? You didn’t even want to know me at that lunch today!’

  ‘Don’t be a fool!’ snarled Daniel. ‘That place was crawling with reporters, which was why I trod very carefully. I knew you wouldn’t want a lot of imaginative smut about your relationship with me splashed over the tabloids tomorrow.’

  ‘Whereas Sunny would?’ taunted Beth.

  Daniel shrugged.

  ‘Sunny and I have been lovers for the last seven years,’ he said indifferently.

  Beth felt a pang as sharp and hurtful as if she had been stabbed. She caught her breath.

  ‘Or so the tabloids say,’ finished Daniel, eyeing her from under half-closed lids.

  She felt her fingernails dig deep into her palms. ‘Is it true?’ she asked hoarsely.

  ‘What would it matter to you?’ countered Daniel. ‘You’re not interested in getting involved with me. Are you?’

  ‘No!’ she insisted violently. ‘Obviously all you want is sex and as much variety as possible in your partners. Well, I’m not interested in that kind of relationship, thanks very much.’

  ‘What kind of relationship are you interested in?’

  ‘One with commitment,’ retorted Beth, tossing her head. ‘One where both partners genuinely care about each other and are loyal through thick and thin.’

  ‘I see,’ Daniel murmured in velvety tones. ‘Like the one you have with Warren?’

  Her head jerked back as if he had slapped her. Rage swept through her.

  ‘That’s not fair,’ she whispered hoarsely.

  ‘Isn’t it?’ taunted Daniel, his face so close to hers that she could see the blue-black shadow of his beard under his skin.

  Her legs felt so weak that they would scarcely hold her. She opened her mouth to reply, but the words wouldn’t come. She stared at Daniel in dismay, willing him to stop this torment.

  And, before she could protest, he took her face in his hands and stared down at her with a ferocity and passion that electrified her. For a moment she gazed back at him, feeling her lips part and her body quiver in a frenzy of need as urgent as his own. Then she broke away, shuddering.

  ‘No!’ she cried despairingly.

  He took a step backwards, his dark eyes blazing, his mouth a narrow, contemptuous line.

  ‘All right,’ he rasped. ‘If that’s your choice, get dressed and we’ll go out for a farewell dinner.’

  CHAPTER FIVE

  ‘“FAREWELL”?’ echoed Beth in consternation.

  ‘Yes,’ agreed Daniel with a shrug. ‘After all, that’s what you want, isn’t it? The fashion show is over, so there’s no real need for us to see each other ever again. Is there?’

  Beth stared at him with a sudden acute sense of dismay. She felt devastated. Deep inside her there was a frozen sensation of pain and disbelief, along with a feeling of unfinished business. Of course she wasn’t in love with Daniel, but she had somehow thought there would be more quarrels, plans, shared endeavours ahead of them. Now she felt almost cheated to discover that she was wrong.

  ‘No, I suppose not,’ she agreed bleakly.

  Daniel smiled at her.
His momentary anger seemed to have vanished and it was hard to believe that he had gazed at her so stormily only moments before.

  ‘Well, then, a farewell dinner seems in order, doesn’t it?’ he continued. ‘It’s been a pleasant relationship, so it’s only right to mark the end of it, wouldn’t you say?’

  Beth stared mutely back at him, hating him. Obviously he didn’t feel any of the bittersweet torment that engulfed her at the thought of parting. But pride forced her to wear a false smile.

  ‘Yes, of course,’ she agreed, and was furious to hear a tremor in her voice.

  ‘Good,’ said Daniel briskly. ‘Then I’ll book a table at Emilio’s.’

  Some of Beth’s tension slowly ebbed away. At least he hadn’t noticed her agitation, she thought, watching him stride across to the table and pick up the phone. But, if he really cared about her, he would have noticed, wouldn’t he? Well, she’d been a fool to think that his kisses meant anything, but all she could do now was try and salvage her pride. Go to this wretched dinner and show him that she could be just as casual and blasé as he was. And then part with him forever. The deceitful, smooth-talking beast!

  ‘Right. Emilio’s at eight o’clock,’ announced Daniel, hanging up the receiver. ‘I’ve got to go out on business now, but I’ll be back at seven-thirty to pick you up.’

  Left alone, Beth sank on to the sofa with a groan. She should have been enthralled at the success of the show, but instead she felt too drained to appreciate it. Anger, confusion and dismay threatened to overwhelm her and, in a muddled way, it all seemed to be centred on Daniel. Yet there was also the problem of her relationship with Warren to tackle and at the moment she felt quite unable to face it. Shaking her head, she decided to go and have a hot bath. If Warren phoned, she would simply have to talk to him and decide where the relationship was going, but she dreaded the encounter. Fortunately, even though she left her bathroom door open while she soaked in a tub of hot water, she did not hear the telephone ring. At last, dressed in a comfortable towelling tracksuit, she lay down on her bed and fell asleep.

  It was just after seven o’clock when she was woken by a knock on her bedroom door. Sleepily she sat up.

  ‘Warren?’ she said.

  The answer came back, infuriatingly cheerful.

  ‘No, it’s Daniel. Time to get dressed, sweetheart.’

  Sweetheart, thought Beth indignantly. I’m not your sweetheart and I never will be. Yet she dressed carefully in one of the outfits from her collection. An attractive cocktail dress in a clinging blue chiffon woven with silver thread, a wide silver belt and matching silver shoes. Daniel said nothing when she emerged from her room, but his eyes roved over her body with an unmistakable spark of admiration. Beth felt a confused rush of pleasure and annoyance and tried not to look too closely at him. He was wearing a black dinner suit, immaculate white shirt and black tie and he exuded a smouldering aura of sensuality. Stay calm, she ordered herself frantically. Don’t let him upset you. Just remember that this is Hollywood and you’re just as sophisticated and glitzy as he is!

  Emilio’s proved to be a glamorous restaurant on Melrose Avenue. As they entered the downstairs dining-room, Beth heard the splash of running water and gazed in awe at a miniature Trevi Fountain bathed in coloured lights. All around them were marble columns, brick archways, stained-glass windows and gilt-framed oil paintings. But before she could linger very long admiring the décor a smiling waiter came to greet them and led them upstairs to the cedar-panelled balcony.

  Once they were settled in the candlelit booth, the waiter whipped out his pad and pencil and looked questioningly at Daniel.

  ‘A pre-dinner drink, sir?’ he suggested.

  Daniel glanced at Beth. ‘I think some champagne would be in order. Do you agree?’

  ‘Yes, please,’ she said as casually as if she drank champagne every night of the week.

  ‘A bottle of Veuve Clicquot,’ added Daniel.

  Within moments the waiter returned with an ornate silver ice-bucket and two long-stemmed glasses. There was a discreet pop, a trail of vapour and then when both glasses were filled the waiter withdrew, leaving them alone.

  ‘Well,’ said Daniel, raising his glass, ‘here’s to us!’

  Beth looked at him doubtfully, her heart beginning to hammer. There was something uncomfortably intimate about the wording of that, particularly when they were sitting here in a secluded booth lit by the soft glow of candles. But it seemed ridiculous to protest. After all, she was sophisticated and worldly, wasn’t she?

  ‘All right,’ she said huskily. ‘To us.’

  As always, the dry, fizzy taste of the champagne gave her a feeling of dizzy exhilaration. She felt her cheeks flushing as she set down the glass and wondered whether it was her imagination or whether Daniel really was looking at her with keen, scrutinising urgency. She wondered even more when he reached inside his dinner-jacket and pulled out a long manila envelope which he laid on the table. Twisting her head slightly, she saw that her own name was typed on the front of it.

  ‘What’s that?’ she asked in bewilderment, reaching for it.

  But he seized her outstretched fingers and set them down on the table.

  ‘Later,’ he warned. ‘It’s just a legal document I had my attorneys prepare about our business relationship.’

  ‘Oh,’ murmured Beth.

  She felt confused, slightly hurt and yet very, very curious. No doubt it was just some document arranging for her to make formal repayment of all the expenses of getting her fashion collection ready on time. If Daniel never intended to see her again after tonight, he would certainly want to know that his investment was safe. But she couldn’t help feeling slightly aggrieved that he needed to make sure of her in this way. Couldn’t he have just trusted her to pay him back?

  ‘I did intend to pay you back as soon as I possibly could,’ she said rather stiffly.

  His dark eyes glinted.

  ‘I’m sure you did,’ he purred. ‘But, if I can have you legally tied down by the terms agreed to in that document, I’d feel much happier about our whole relationship. Now, would you like to order some food?’

  Beth flashed him a stormy look but accepted the leather-covered menu and stared down at it sightlessly. The words ‘farewell dinner’ kept ringing in her head and it was two or three minutes before her tempestuous feelings calmed enough to let her concentrate. Even then she found herself frowning in perplexity over the unfamiliar items.

  ‘I’ll have the stru—stra—the chicken and egg soup,’ she said. ‘And then the veal dish with the fried potatoes and salad. I can’t say it, the one with lemon.’

  Daniel’s lips twitched.

  ‘Piccata al limone,’ he replied. ‘A good choice.’

  While they waited for the food to arrive, they chatted about the fashion show earlier in the day and the rooftop lunch, but Beth did not mention the two people who were most on her mind from that lunchtime meeting: Warren and Sunny. And neither did Daniel. Only when the last delicious mouthful of chicken soup had been swallowed did the conversation become more personal, and even then it took an unexpected turn.

  ‘Were your parents happily married?’ asked Daniel abruptly.

  Beth stared at him with a startled expression.

  ‘What on earth does that have to do with anything?’ she demanded.

  ‘More than you might think,’ said Daniel cryptically. ‘Come on, tell me. Were they?’

  Beth frowned, casting her mind back to the small terraced house on the Rocks at Woolloomooloo where she had spent her childhood. A vivid rush of memory brought back her father’s angry, querulous voice as her mother came in exhausted from the factory and began preparing tea. She sighed.

  ‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘In a way I suppose they were. They stayed married for thirty-three years until he died two years ago.’

  ‘That doesn’t necessarily mean anything,’ retorted Daniel. ‘It might just mean that they had no choice. Nowhere else to go. But how did the
y act towards each other? Were they warm, affectionate, appreciative?’

  Beth coiled one of her curls restlessly around her index finger and then let it go.

  ‘No,’ she admitted. ‘My father was rather horrible to my mother, actually. From what my older sister says, he was always pretty short-tempered. The kind of man who loses his temper over nothing. And after the accident he complained all the time. Even though he was in a wheelchair, there were a lot of things that he could have done, but he wouldn’t. He never did anything to help my mother and he never appreciated anything she did for him. She just ran around all the time working her fingers to the bone and waiting on him, while he grumbled that the service wasn’t up to standard.’

  Daniel leaned back in his chair and nodded thoughtfully.

  ‘Yes, that fits,’ he murmured.

  ‘Fits what?’ demanded Beth in annoyance. ‘Whatever are you talking about?’

  Daniel’s dark eyes narrowed and he smiled unpleasantly. ‘It explains the way you behave with Warren,’ he said. ‘Obviously your role model was your mother. Always anxious to please and never succeeding.’

  ‘That wasn’t my role model!’ protested Beth hotly, and then bit her lip, an uneasy sensation stirring inside her. The thought had never occurred to her before but was Daniel right? Had it been? Defensively she hit back.

  ‘Why can’t you just make polite conversation like normal people?’ she demanded.

  ‘I hate polite conversation! It’s boring and meaningless.’

  ‘Maybe. But why do you want to know all these odd things about me?’

  Daniel shrugged. ‘Everybody is moulded by their childhood. I always found when I was dealing with actors that if I could unlock their past I could understand everything about them.’

  ‘Like some kind of party trick?’ snapped Beth. ‘Well, two can play at that game. What about your parents? Were they happily married?’

  Daniel smiled faintly.

  ‘My parents?’ he echoed. ‘No. My parents weren’t happily married, they were happily divorced.’