Deceptive Love (5 page)

"You stay out of my kitchen, Schyler," she said heatedly as she picked up the phone. "Hello?" she snapped ungraciously into the receiver.

"Am I interrupting something important, Miss Dalton?" came the bland voice through the receiver.

"I beg your pardon? Who is this?" Keri was suddenly fed to the teeth with all men. She glared at Schyler who, in spite of her adjurations, was going into the kitchen. She'd never get him out of her apartment, thanks to this inopportune idiot on the phone.

"This is Dain Randolph, Miss Dalton," came the unabashed reply. "I won't keep you since you seem to be entertaining, but I wanted to tell you not to come into the office tomorrow morning."

The last straw, Keri fulminated. Riddles yet! But before she had time to comment that that suited her just fine, the bland voice continued.

"I have an important conference tomorrow morning at nine
a.m
. I am taking you with me to take notes because several of the gentlemen involved speak no English. Please be ready outside your apartment building promptly at eight fifteen." When Keri didn't reply at once, he said sharply,
"Is
that clear, Miss Dalton?"

"Yes, sir, very clear. I'll be ready, sir," she acquiesced tonelessly.

There was a long pause and then he said, "Enjoy your evening, Miss Dalton," and hung up. Keri glared at the receiver and then glared at Schyler, who stood in the kitchen doorway, smiling smugly.

"The table's set, the wine poured, and the pizza is your favorite kind. Who was that?"

"My boss
," she answered automatically.
"
He's taking me to a conference in the morning so
I’
m not to go into the office tomorrow. He called to tell me about it." She gave in to the inevitable. "Schyler, if I eat the pizza with you, will you promise that you'll leave after that, without any trouble?"

Schyler knew when he'd pushed a victory as far as it would go. He raised his hand as though taking an oath. "I promise. I am on my best behavior." He seated Keri at the small dinette table with practiced flair and proceeded to make himself agreeable. He fully understood that Keri didn't trust him as far as she could see him, and he had to admit she had plenty of cause. God help him if she ever found out just how much cause, but she was an obsession with him now and he had to have her. He wouldn't allow himself to contemplate failure.

To Keri's surprise, Schyler, for once, was as good as his word. He put himself to the task of entertaining her during the meal and she had to admit, to herself only, that it was a superlative example of how to charm a wary bird, with herself as the wariest bird ever hatched! When the meal was finished, he helped her clear away the dishes, accepted her refusal to allow him to dry while she washed them and went biddably away.

It was like being braced against a shove which never came. She felt off balance and extremely suspicious. Schyler was trying
a
new tack, that much was clear. It was up to her to show him that this tack wasn't going to work any better than the others had. She'd also have to talk to the landlord about getting a peephole installed in the door. No more opening the door without knowing who was on the other side!

The next morning Keri rose early. She stood for a long time, contemplating her wardrobe. After much deliberation she chose a trimly tailored olive green suit which had the interesting effect of making her look as though she might be in the first stages of jaundice. It also broadened her hips and shoulders just enough to destroy the clean lines of her normal figure. The whole effect, when she had completed her makeup and hairdo, was exquisitely subtle. There was not one thing glaringly amiss, but the totality left her colorless and drab. She placed her glasses firmly on her nose and smiled primly at herself in the mirror. Staid, efficient, and depressingly
dull...
exactly what she had striven to achieve.

In a defiant freakish fit of humor, she dabbed on her favorite perfume, Charme, a fragrance so at variance with her current appearance that it signified for her a final, mocking thumb of the nose. She gathered her purse, stenographic notebook, and a supply of freshly sharpened pencils and locked the door of her apartment behind her.

There was no one in the elevator going down, for which she was grateful. She had no desire to have to explain her appearance to someone who knew her well in her normal mode of dress. When put into words, the whole idea had a tendency to sound both conceited and a trifle paranoid.

Promptly at 8:15 Dain and the car arrived at the front door of her apartment building. The uniformed chauffeur hastened around to open the back door and Keri was ceremoniously assisted inside. When she had settled herself comfortably, Dain quietly told the chauffeur to drive on, then pressed the button which closed the sliding glass partition between the driver's compartment and the back seat. He turned his attention to Keri.

"Good morning, Miss Dalton," he said conventionally.

'I'm glad to see that punctuality
is
one of your virtues after all."

Keri's lips compressed slightly but she merely replied, "Good morning, Mr. Randolph," sternly repressing the impulse to snap back at him. A colorless secretary did not make cutting remarks to her employer.

She could feel him watching her, waiting for her to rise to his provocation, but she contemplated the passing scenery with perfect equanimity. It was a mere pinprick, after all, easily ignored. She felt unwontedly triumphant.

Dain studied the clean line of her profile. In the shaded light of the car the sallowness of her complexion lost its force and he could concentrate on the bone structure without the distraction of color tones. The chin was sweetly curved, if a trifle obstinate, and the nose, where it was not weighted down by those unattractive spectacles, was classically modeled. The lips were fuller than they looked full face, especially the lower one, and Dain wondered how she had achieved that thinning effect. It must have to do with the color of the lipstick she used, he finally decided.

Looking at her from the side, the shielding effect of the heavy glasses was diminished and he became aware of the dark length of her eyelashes and the high cheekbones. With a sudden shock he realized that, in profile, she was beautiful. He sucked in air sharply and she turned to look at him curiously.

Sitting so close to her he realized several other things as well. At such close range he could study her eyes through her glasses and he saw that they were a dark sea-deep green, much the color of his own. He also realized that her lenses had no magnifying or distorting effect, which meant that they were either pitifully weak or mere glass with no prescriptive strength at all. In other words, they were part and parcel of a disguise. She was deliberately, for some unfathomable reason, making herself look like a frump!

He shut his eyes, the better to concentrate on these revelations, and at once became aware of the perfume she wore. It had subtly teased his senses since she had entered the car, but the distraction of her outward appearance had pushed its message into his subconscious. Now it was surfacing and he could match it to the inner vision of that flawless profile.

Green eyes, titian hair, and a neck like a swan's. He'd take a bet with any odds that the body underneath that chaste and chastening suit was just as lovely as the rest of her, and just as deceptively packaged. No wonder Schyler Van Metre was panting on the trail. A cruel smile curved his mouth.

"This is an extremely important conference today, Miss Dalton. Accuracy in your notes is essential." Dain's eyes opened to survey the impassive face of the woman who watched him warily and for a long moment their eyes locked in a silent struggle. Although her face remained inexpressive, behind her glasses the dark green eyes carried a message hard to define except that it wasn't friendly.

Keri turned her profile to Dain again, breaking the eye contact. "Of course, Mr. Randolph. I always strive for complete accuracy. I am sure you will find the quality of my notes most satisfactory, sir." Keri kept her voice colorless with an effort and continued, "Do you wish to brief me on the purpose of the meeting or give me any special instructions before we arrive, sir?" He nodded, but waited for her to finish all her questions. She continued, "Would you prefer the final form in the original languages or would you prefer a completely translated copy?"

He looked at her narrowly. "Will you take the notes in the languages of origin?" he asked curiously.

"Of course, sir, if that is what you desire." Keri maintained her impassive mien. She looked at him guilelessly for a short moment before facing forward again.

Dam's mouth compressed, Subtly, in a way he couldn't voice a precise objection to, she was getting to him. She was a caricature of the superefficient secretary and he didn't doubt she could do all she promised. Her notes would be impeccable and he would stake RanCo that she wouldn't miss an important word or sign during the whole conference. And if she sirred him one more time he would strangle her!

In keeping with her deliberately drab appearance, Keri seemed determined to project an image of machinelike efficiency which obscured her reality as anything more than a piece of office furniture. If he hadn't already been
curious
about her, it might have worked, for a time, at least. But, as with all defenses which depend on the concealment by camouflage, once alerted to the presence of the prey a predator can easily strip away the ephemeral shield to expose the quivering, tender morsel beneath.

He would strip away her pathetic, evasive ploys at his leisure, he decided. It shouldn't be difficult at all to prize her out of her shell of respectable drabness, even if he had to crack it a bit in the process.

He began to brief her on the topics of the conference and the men who would be present. Keri pulled out her notebook and began to take notes, her pencil slipping rapidly over the page. He gave her a list of the names of those to be present plus a thumbnail sketch of each. He watched as she listed each man and appended a symbol beside each name, different in each case. When he asked her the significance of the symbols she explained. "They tell me who ' said
what...
a sort of shorthand shorthand." There was just the faintest hint of a smile playing around her mouth, so elusive he couldn't truly be sure it was really there.

When the conference started, Keri blended into the background with the ease of a chameleon. Dain eyed her sourly, half admiring, half irritated at her consummate ability to efface herself. None of the other men at the conference seemed even aware of her presence, save as the sibilant slide of pencil over paper or the hand which passed coffee cups when breaks were taken to moisten throats dry from wrangling.

Keri was an irritating burr in Dain's consciousness, unobtrusive but stabbing sharply at unexpected times. From the corner of his eye he discovered that he was distracted by the smooth length of shapely leg which was visible to him, free from the enigma of her face.

If he swiveled his head a bit further, her hands came into his line of vision, tracing symbols with deft rapidity over the notebook. Graceful, long-fingered, with short, oval nails buffed to a healthy sheen but innocent of polish. She wore no rings, only a businesslike chain-linked watch to point to the delicacy of her wrists, and Dain wondered suddenly how a glowing emerald would look on those slender fingers. With irritated discipline he dismissed the fanciful thoughts and wrenched his attention back to the conference.

Keri was well-satisfied with the course of the role she played. No man paid more than the most cursory of attention to her and if her lips curved into a self-congratulatory smile while she bent her head over her racing pencil, no one saw it, not even Dain. Her skills were extended but not overtaxed and she enjoyed the sensation, for she always welcomed a challenge, especially one she had no real difficulty in meeting.

When the conference broke for a meal, Keri hung back, planning to find her own lunch and enjoy the break from the ceaseless recording. The men agreed to make do with a mere forty-five minutes of conviviality, but she was in no position to quibble. She'd take what she could get.

The firm clasp around her elbow was unexpected and unwelcome. She looked down at the hand that held her so firmly and back up into the ironic green eyes, keeping what she hoped was a bland expression to match the one on the hard, handsome face that closely scrutinized her own.

"Going somewhere, Miss Dalton?" asked the smooth, deep voice.

"Yes, sir, to my lunch," she answered with surprise, which she hoped wasn't overdone.

"Your lunch is this way, Miss Dalton, with me." As he was speaking, Dain was irresistibly propelling Keri along beside him, in the opposite direction from the one the other men were taking.

Keri knew better than to argue. Docile, efficient secretaries never gainsay the boss, but her mouth was tight and her nostrils slightly pinched as she walked beside him to a single elevator, which he activated with a key. To her dismay, they rose instead of descending. Dain maintained his clasp on her elbow, slightly eased in strength, even while they were alone in the cubicle. Keri prayed earnestly that they wouldn't get trapped between floors through some freak celestial joke perpetrated by a malicious prankster of a god. She already knew, the farther away she could stay from Dain Randolph, the safer she'd be! There was danger in every one of his seventy-four inches of long bone and hard muscle.

When the elevator slid smoothly to a stop, there was an agonizing pause before the doors opened to release them. Keri hoped that Dain hadn't noticed that she had been holding her breath and she tried not to let it
all
out in too audible a whoosh of relief. The commanding hand relentlessly urged her out of the elevator and they walked forward into a luxurious apartment.

Through a floor-to-ceiling glass wall she could see a table laid for two on a small terrace. A silent-footed servant came forward, rather in the manner of a genie out of a bottle, and murmured greetings respectfully to Dain. He acknowledged the greeting and ordered the man to serve the salad while they washed their hands, reminding him that they were going to be pressed for time.

Dain directed Keri toward a luxuriously appointed bathroom, choosing to utilize the one attached to the master suite himself. She washed and dried her hands in a state of bemusement and no little trepidation. This was going to be tougher than she thought, with Dain in such close proximity for so long a time. Those deep green eyes were windows to an uncomfortably keen brain, one which could strip pretense away as easily as an ecdysiast peels away her gaudy garb with a flirtatious flip of a hip.

She went back out into the living room, head high and chin tilted at a determined angle. He was waiting for her. He escorted her solicitously, giving her the feeling that she was a favored and slightly doddering maiden aunt, onto the sunlit terrace. He pulled out her chair, seated her, and took his place across from her. Keri immediately became defensively absorbed in the deliciously crisp green salad. He allowed her three peaceful bites before he pounced.