Charade Of The Heart

‘Care to tell me what that smile on your face is all about?’ he drawled. ‘I can’t imagine that the past hour has exactly filled you with a warm glow.’

You’d be surprised, Beth wanted to retort, still highly amused at the thought that she had fooled the infallible Marcos Adrino.

Her smile widened. ‘Just looking forward to my day’s work,’ she said blandly. ‘Job satisfaction is a wonderful thing.’

‘Isn’t it? And by the way,’ he added, as she opened the door, ‘what have you done to your hair?’

‘Oh, I had it cut,’ Beth said cautiously. Had her triumph been short-lived? ‘I fancied a change,’ she mumbled vaguely when he didn’t say anything.

‘You’ve succeeded,’ he said, sticking his hands into his pockets. ‘From where I’m standing, you’ve succeeded very well indeed.’

Beth stepped out of the office and shut the door firmly behind her. His words were ominously perspicacious. She really would have to remember that she couldn’t give in to the temptation to react in the way she customarily would have done. That she and Laura, identical twins though they were, were very different as two individuals.

She almost fell into her chair with the relief of no longer being in Marcos’s presence.

It hadn’t just been his relentless accusations, she thought suddenly, as she logged into the computer and ran her eyes briefly over the huge store of files, realising that she would have to work a lot of overtime to really understand Laura’s job fully.

There was something alarming about him. Maybe it was just that she was not accustomed to being confronted by a man who acted as though the whole world was designed to fall in with his orders.

Her little job in Cambridge had certainly not prepared her for this particular breed of man. Her own boss had been quite mild-mannered. A sympathetic middle-aged man with three children, all girls, who wore a look of perpetual harassment on his face. Whenever anyone joked to him about it, he would laugh and reply, what do you expect, living with four women?

Beth couldn’t imagine that Marcos Adrino had ever been mild-mannered. He had probably been born arrogant. She tried to imagine him as a baby and found that she couldn’t. The only image she could conjure up was that dark, devilish, ruthlessly handsome face.

She stuck a couple of horns and a tail on her mental image, chuckled and then settled into the laborious task of catching up with the outstanding workload of typing.

When Marcos next strode out of his office, he glanced across at her with surprise.

‘Dieting?’ he drawled, slinging on his coat and pausing to stand over her.

Immediately Beth felt her pulses begin to race.

‘Pardon?’

‘It’s nearly two o’clock,’ he told her, and she returned his curious stare with surprise.

‘Is it?’ she asked, consulting her watch and feeling unnervingly gauche and idiotic. ‘Oh, yes, so it is. I must have become a bit involved.’

‘So I see. Keep it up and you won’t feel the sting of my disapproval again.’

‘Yes, sir,’ she replied tartly, wanting to hit him, and his lips curved into a small smile.

‘I won’t be back until tomorrow afternoon. I have two meetings tomorrow at Harlow and Ridgewood’s. Last-minute arrangements; they probably won’t be in your diary. Finish compiling the research into Santo Domingo, will you? I want to get all that off the ground by the end of the month. Latest. I take it you won’t object to doing a bit of overtime to get it all cleared?’

‘Of course not.’ Had he really expected any other answer? The question had been phrased in such a way as to negate any other reply. Not that she had any objection to overtime anyway. For the salary that Laura was being paid, working long hours was more or less expected.

Not, she thought, that her sister had allowed that line of reasoning to enter her mind from what Marcos had told her. She would have to confront Laura with that.

He strode towards the door, and Beth subconsciously thought how graceful his movements were for someone of his height and powerful build. Stealthy, she corrected herself. Like a jungle animal. He probably slept with one eye open as well.

He paused just as he was about to leave and threw over his shoulder, ‘By the way, if Angela calls, make some excuse. She’s being a bit of a nuisance.’

With that he clicked the door behind him and Beth frowned. Angela? Who on earth was Angela? She was obviously meant to know who Angela was and was expected to dispatch her efficiently out of his life. Was this all in the line of duty? Ha!

She spent the remainder of the afternoon ploughing through the stack of dictated tapes and messages in her tray, occasionally breaking off to take phone calls and to rummage through the computer files, gradually building up a picture of Marcos’s extensive business involvements.

There was much more to it than hotels, although they were by far the bulk of his business. Hotels spread across the world, from New York to Tokyo.

In addition he had investments in several electronics firms and software companies.

Had he built all this from nothing? Even if he had not, the man was clearly a dynamo in the concrete jungle.

When she next looked at her watch, it had gone seven o’clock and she hastily packed up. This, she reminded herself, was only a temporary excursion into the Adrino corporation. Filling in time until Laura could take over. It wouldn’t do to start becoming too involved.

Now she understood why her sister had been so keen to keep her feet in the company.

She made her way back on the Underground to Laura’s flat, which was in Swiss Cottage. It was a rented apartment. Very comfortable and large enough really for two people, but lacking in character. Nothing like her little place, but then you never had the incentive to do anything with property that did not belong to you, she supposed.

Laura, anyway, had never been terribly houseproud. While she could spend hours browsing in an antique shop, Laura had always been more than happy to flit from boutique to boutique, spending all her money on clothes.

And it showed, Beth thought wryly, as she prepared herself a light meal of tuna and French bread. Her sister’s wardrobe was about five times the size of hers and the clothes were way out of her price range.

As soon as she had eaten, she telephoned her sister, waiting in frustration as she heard the flat ringing tone. Surely Laura wouldn’t be out living it up, for heaven’s sake? She hardly knew a soul in Cambridge. Beth herself only had a handful of good friends there. She had told them that she was going to be away for a while and that her sister would be looking after her flat, but none of them knew any of the details and she didn’t care for the thought of Laura spilling them unwittingly.

Her train of thought was broken by Laura’s voice at the end of the line.

‘Beth,’ she heard the voice distantly, and felt a sudden pang of longing to be back in her flat in Cambridge and far away from this dreadful affair. ‘How was your first day at work?’ There was a brief pause, then she continued anxiously, ‘You made out all right, didn’t you?’

‘Oh, none of your colleagues recognised anything amiss,’ Beth began. ‘They commented on the change of hairstyle but that was about all, and I’ve been doing a lot of work getting myself up to the mark on your work.’

‘You will remember that it’s not permanent, won’t you?’

Beth smiled. ‘Of course I will. Believe me, working for Marcos Adrino, invigorating though the work might be, isn’t my cup of tea.’

She heard her sister gasp down the line and her smile broadened. She could imagine Laura’s expression of horror that she had been plunged into the deep end so suddenly.

‘But he’s not back in England until the end of the week,’ she wailed.

‘Well, then, he’s obviously more unpredictable than you thought. He was there when I got in, and I don’t have to tell you that I almost had a heart attack when I heard his voice from behind me.’ She shivered involuntarily.

‘What did you do? What did you say? You didn’t give the game away, did you?’ Laura’s voice had risen to a panicky squeak.

‘No, and don’t get so excited, for heaven’s sake. Not in your condition.’ She sat down on the sofa, curling her legs underneath her, her eyes absent-mindedly wandering over the television which she had switched on earlier, having turned down the volume to make the phone call. It was a cheap thriller of some sort, and the entire cast seemed to be wearing expressions of either bewilderment or guilt.

‘Well? Tell me all the details. Hang on, I’ll just settle down here. Your cushions are so delicate. You need some great big ones on the floor.’

‘Thanks, but try not to give in to the urge to redecorate my flat. You’ve done quite enough at the moment, what with redecorating my life.’

‘So spill the beans. Tell all.’