His Last Gamble (8 page)

For the first full photo-shoot inside the Palace, Charmaine was wearing a fabulously plain and exquisitely-cut creation in mushroom satin. Designed to remind men of slinky night dresses and floating peignoirs, it had Bruges lace at the throat and wrists, and fell in plain, lush folds, almost to her feet. With her pale, pale hair, and lightly bronzed skin, the mushroom colour made her a vision in pastel.

It was mid afternoon, but because the inner gaming rooms had no windows at all, Phil had been able to make good use of lighting to create an atmosphere of night-time elegance. Coloured candles and old fashioned lanterns supplanted the casino's usual harsh electric lighting.

Phil wanted Charmaine photographed lying on the baccarat table. Her long silvery gold hair was unconfined and spilled around her shoulders, across the dress and over the dark blue table top, in fabulous contrast.

Dee-Dee
had been first up, dressed in dazzling white and draped around a slot-machine like a pole dancer. It had been very sexy, and was definitely a hard act to follow.

Now, as she concentrated nervously on Phil's demands to think ‘like a siren' Charmaine tried to ignore the blond Adonis-like figure of Payne Lacey standing at the back of the room.

‘Right, now half-close your eyes. Imagine you've just spotted your lover across a crowded room, and you're sending him come-to-bed messages,' Phil said, crouching to get a shot of her at table-height.

A soft flush crept over Charmaine's face as she tried to keep her eyes from straying towards the back. Why oh why had Phil used that particular instruction!

‘Come on Charmaine, think sensuous!' Phil encouraged. At the moment she looked more hunted than amorous.

She heard Coral say something and one of the other girls laugh. She was blowing it again. Even Jo-Jo stirred restlessly.

Damn it, Charmaine thought with a sudden flash of anger, I'll show them. I won't ruin another good photo-shoot. I won't! She owed Jo-Jo, and herself too, more than that. Think about a lover, Phil had said. Well, all right then. She would! Deliberately, she let her eyes stray to those of Payne Lacey. It was not exactly hard to do, since they seemed to be
drawn
there anyway, like one of those hapless heroines in a vampire movie on the first appearance of the Count!

Except that she was not afraid of a bite. Unless it was a love bite.

She stretched one arm further away, lowering her head closer to the table. She imagined him walking closer, like a wolf, silent and loping. He would lean down, perhaps pull a swathe of hair off her shoulder and bend to kiss the exposed flesh.

Phil began to snap like a man demented, his mind racing. Whatever it was he'd said to her, she'd certainly taken it to heart! This was sensational stuff!

Charmaine felt a dreamy smile come to her lips as she imagined his first tender kiss—perhaps on the curve of her shoulder, or the small indent on her neck. She almost shuddered at the imagined touch.

He'd say her name, softly. She'd turn onto her back and look up at him. Without thinking she did so, and Phil leapt up onto the bench placed beside the table for just such a shot. He didn't care that he hadn't asked her for the pose—he knew when a model was going with the flow, and he was more than happy to go with her.

Especially when she was producing such stunning shots as this.

Those electric blue eyes, narrowing to icy slits, then opening wide with languorous desire
were
so hot that he felt sure he was getting images that would make even the negatives sizzle!

Over on the other side of the room, Payne Lacey felt himself harden and burn, and cursed silently. What did she think she was playing at? Everything had fallen silent as all the people in the room became aware of the sensation taking place on the baccarat table.

His hands curled into fists, his fingernails digging into his palms. He wanted to go over there and ravish her on the spot. And at the same time give her a tongue-lashing for acting the wanton.

Charmaine sighed, looking up at Phil, but seeing only Payne. Since she would never in reality let him touch her as she was imagining his touch, where was the harm?

She stretched, arching her back, imagining his hands on her breasts, cupping, caressing, moving around and down, to take the tender line of her hips in his hands. Slowly, slowly, lowering his head to kiss the waiting, quivering skin between her breasts.

‘Great, that's it,' Phil said, suddenly snapping her rudely back into reality. She shot up, scrambling off the table, knowing her face must be even more scarlet that Jinx's mini cocktail dress.

This was awful. She'd never be able to show her face again. What had come over her?

‘Right Jinx—I think we'll have you rolling
dice,'
Phil said, his voice utterly matter-of-fact and professional, and doing much to dispel the sex-laden atmosphere, whilst Charmaine scurried for cover, and the relative peace of the changing rooms.

Two men followed her.

First Jo-Jo, and, after a pause, and far more discreetly, the tall, blond figure of the richest man in Barbados.

A small office had doubled as the girls changing room, and was for the moment deserted. The make up girls and dressers were all in the casino, watching the shoot.

She carefully slipped her lovely gown from her body, and wrapped herself into a warm cotton housecoat. She was shaking all over.

What must the others be thinking of her now?

Damn that man, Payne Lacey. Even his imaginary self was enough to make her act like a wanton harlot. Worse, a wanton idiot.

A knock at the door made her shoot off the chair. Warily Jo-Jo poked his head inside. ‘You decent?' he asked, one hand covering his eyes.

Charmaine laughed dryly. ‘Hardly. Or did you miss the performance?' she said, not quite managing to cover the real hurt and shame in her voice with a flippant tone.

Jo-Jo came further inside, letting the door close behind him. The door, made of a heavy oak, didn't quite catch, and creaked open an
inch
or so. Outside, in the deserted corridor, Payne had just managed to catch her words, and the reprimand which was hovering on his tongue died a thousand deaths.

She sounded so forlorn.

‘Oh I could hardly miss it,' Jo-Jo said brightly. ‘You were superb. Phil was delighted.'

Charmaine, slumping back down into her chair, looked at her friend and partner helplessly. ‘Don't try and make things better,' she admonished. ‘I was awful.'

‘No, you weren't awful,' Jo-Jo said staunchly. ‘Phil wanted you to be really sexy and you were. It wasn't awful at all, but very, very professional.' Then he shrugged. ‘But it was so totally unlike you,' he was forced to add honestly. ‘Where has my shy and retiring designer gone? And speaking of transformations, what's with you and Payne Lacey?'

Charmaine's head lifted sharply and outside the man himself moved closer.

Yes, what was it, Payne wondered. He would dearly love to know himself.

‘What do you mean?' Charmaine said warily, trying to meet Jo-Jo's eyes with a look of innocence. And knowing that she failed.

‘Oh come on love, never kid a kidder,' Jo-Jo said cosily, leaning against the desk the girls were using as a dressing table and looking at his friend closely. ‘I've never seen you so aggressive with a man before. You're even
giving
Jinx a run for her money.'

Charmaine paled. She wasn't being as obvious as all that surely?

Noting her stricken look, Jo-Jo backed down. ‘OK, perhaps you're not coming on that strong,' he amended hastily. ‘But for you, it's unheard of. Where's the girl who won't even use her family's famous name to get along? The girl who never dates, but vegetates away in the country like an amateur nun?'

‘I don't!' Charmaine said hotly. Then, as Jo-Jo cocked his head to one side, an over-the-top look of scepticism on his face, she felt herself smile.

‘Well, I don't vegetate,' she said defensively. ‘I create. And I like living in the country.'

‘With only a cat for company,' Jo-Jo added.

‘Well, Wordsworth's all male,' Charmaine grinned and Jo-Jo rolled his eyes.

‘Look, don't get me wrong love,' he said conspiratorially. ‘If you've decided to throw off the shackles of celibacy and go all out for the gorgeous Mr Lacey, I'm all for it. But it's just so . . . sudden. And so unexpected.' His voice became worried. ‘Are you sure you know what you're doing?'

And although he didn't say so aloud, he wished she'd chosen someone far less potent than the casino owner on which to test her new-found sexual freedom!

Charmaine couldn't help but laugh. Did she know what she was doing? Not if the past few
days
were any indication she didn't!

‘And why were you so determined we shoot here?' Jo-Jo asked, finally voicing the one question which she'd been dreading.

‘What? Don't you think it's a fabulous idea?' she asked quickly, trying to distract him. ‘Not only have we got the beach and the lush tropics on our doorstep, we've got the Palace as well. I thought you'd be pleased we came.'

‘Oh I am,' Jo-Jo said. ‘Don't get me wrong. But you've never before dictated the location of a shoot. Usually I have to all but browbeat you into asserting your rights as half-owner of
Jonniee.
Now, all of a sudden, you're like a dynamo.'

‘Oh, don't exaggerate,' Charmaine laughed uneasily. ‘I just felt like a change, that's all.'

Outside Payne Lacey, eavesdropping without shame, frowned.

Charmaine Reece was a half-owner of the fashion house? And, by the sound of it, its main designer to boot? It made no sense. And exactly what famous family did she belong to? The more he learned about this dangerous, wonderfully alluring woman, the less he seemed to know her.

‘I'm not exaggerating sweetheart. The changes in you are there for anyone to see. Just a few months ago, you were the epitome of the country mouse, solitary and wary. Now, all of a sudden, you're like a tiger. Even Jinx is beginning to get nervous. For the first
time,
she's got serious competition. She was certainly spitting fire after that little kiss you and our gorgeous casino-owner exchanged at the roulette table last night.'

Charmaine flushed. So everyone had noticed.

‘Come on, Jo-Jo. Nobody competes with Jinx,' she said awkwardly. ‘She rules!'

Jo-Jo snorted inelegantly and rolled his eyes theatrically. ‘Not over Payne Lacey she doesn't. And she knows it. Oh, he tolerates her, and plays up to her. But everyone knows it's you he wants.'

Charmaine felt her world lurch around her.

‘He does?' she whispered.

‘Of course he does. Isn't that what you want?' Jo-Jo demanded. And outside, their unsuspected eavesdropper echoed the sentiment.

Payne smiled, a wide, wolfish, confident smile.
Yes, Charmaine. Wasn't it what you wanted?

‘I think,' Charmaine took a deep, shaken breath, ‘I think this is all nonsense. Now, if you don't mind, the girls will be returning soon for the changes. And I still have to model the green taffeta.'

Jo-Jo took the hint, and when he opened the door, the passageway was empty. But at the door, he turned and looked at his friend, his eyes darkening. ‘Be careful, Charmaine, yes?' he said softly. She was so young and innocent.
‘Payne
Lacey plays in the big leagues.'

Charmaine smiled a grim, hard smile, that was so totally unlike her. ‘Oh, don't worry Jo-Jo,' she said softly, almost sadly. ‘I know what I'm doing.'

But when he was gone, and she was pulling on the rich and voluminous elegance of the green taffeta evening dress, Charmaine wondered if she was trying to convince herself, as much as her friend.

* * *

The next day was a day off, as Phil and his assistants were scouting around for a ‘jungle' interior shot, for the day-wear outfits.

With this in mind, Charmaine was glad to slip into a pair of plain white shorts and a pale blue T-shirt, and head for the interior herself.

Downstairs, in the lobby, she picked up a few leaflets, deciding on a visit to the Flower Forest and perhaps, after that Harrisons Cave. It was time she did a bit of sight-seeing.

She took the bus to the east coast, using a few of the Barbados Dollars she'd got from the bank. The bus was crowded with cheerful locals and excited holiday makers who kept eyeing the beautiful passenger with welcoming smiles.

At the plantation, the gardens were so big that, even though there were plenty of visitors, it felt as if she had her own tropical paradise to
herself.
For a few hours she wandered around, lost in the verdant greens of the tropical land. Bright scarlet flowers, brilliantly plumed birds, the never far-away presence of the Caribbean sea itself, all lulled her with their beauty.

This was truly paradise on earth.

With, she realised a moment later with a lurch of her heart, its own particular brand of serpent.

For a moment she thought she must be seeing things, but no, emerging from a dark patch of shade, walking towards her, a vision in white slacks and shirt, was Payne Lacey.

For a moment, she felt utterly beleaguered. Was she never to be free of this man? The next instant she felt her pulse rate rocket. He was so tall, so lithe, so strong. He was like a sleek golden cat, all power and purrs.

‘Are you following me?' she asked him archly, before he could so much as put in a word of greeting.

‘Sure of yourself, aren't you?' he drawled right back at her, watching her anger fade and be replaced with a flush of humiliation.

And he wondered yet again, how someone so beautiful could be so unsure of herself. In point of fact he had followed her—and he was beginning to think he'd follow her all the way to the moon if that's where she led him. But he wasn't going to let her know that.