Acapulco Moonlight Page 10

  'I was tired,' Karen mumbled. She grabbed a yellow-and-white cotton dress off its hanger and made a bee-line for the shower room, trusting she had everything she needed. If that man thought that he was going to stand there and watch her dressing he could think again.

  She emerged five minutes later, fully clothed, and sat down at the dressing table to do her face and brush her hair. He was still standing beside the window. 'That must be a record,' he said. 'You're an extremely efficient young woman, Miss Lane.'

  'Thank you.' She applied eye shadow and liner deftly and touched her lips with a pale rose lipstick. That was all the make-up she would need this morning. She brushed her dark silky hair quickly and twirled it round, piling it on top of her head.

  Saul strolled over and stood behind her. 'A pity you can't leave it loose,' he said. 'I suppose that wouldn't accord with the business woman image you're so keen on projecting?' He bent down and planted a kiss in the nape of her neck, as if it were the most natural and ordinary act, as if they were lovers, or newly-weds. 'For the same reason I've put a tie on this morning— although I expect it'll have to come off before very long. Are you ready?'

  'Yes.' The casual caress made her knees shake as she stood up. She tried to think of something ordinary to say and came up with, 'Can I snatch a sandwich on the way? I seem to have slept through breakfast.'

  'I've ordered coffee and rolls to be laid on in the conference room,' Saul said as they went out to the lift. 'You won't be the only one who's missed breakfast,' he added drily. He took her arm and hurried her along. 'Come on, we're going to be late.'

  The conference room was a large, airy apartment on the first floor, with all the necessary trappings: long polished table with chairs all round, note-pads, pens and pencils, glasses, water-carafes. There was a name-card before each chair. There were perhaps ten or more men already in the room, all of them assembled round the bar at the bottom of the room, where coffee and sandwiches had been laid out, and Saul led Karen straight there and poured coffee for her.

  'There you are,' he said. 'Eat your fill,' and turned away to speak to a man on his other side. 'Feeling better this morning, Ferguson?' There was heavy irony in his voice.

  Ferguson—that must be the man that Saul had gone to bail out last night. Ferguson was a man of about forty-five, with thinning hair and a pallid complexion. If it hadn't been for you, Karen thought with a twist of her mouth, I probably shouldn't be here this morning with my virginity still intact. Saul had made his intention very clear and at that moment she knew she couldn't have resisted him. She must be more careful for the remainder of the time they were here. Moonlight in Acapulco certainly weakened your defences.

  She munched a roll with gusto and surveyed the room and its occupants, some of whom she had seen yesterday, others who were complete strangers. Max Friend met her glance and immediately came over. 'Good morning, my lovely, you're looking prettier than ever today.'

  'Hullo, Max.' She smiled at him, pleased to see someone she knew. He looked attractive this morning; obviously groomed for a business session, his wavy golden hair well combed back, his pale blue shirt and blue cotton trousers freshly laundered. She liked the laughter-lines round his faintly bloodshot blue eyes. If he was a rake he was a nice rake, she thought.

  'Had a good dinner last night?' he said, sliding her a wicked glance as he helped himself to coffee. 'I was sad that the Great White Chief plucked you away from me before I had finished telling you my life story. Perhaps I could give you a second instalment later on, when the talking-shop has closed.' He waved his coffee cup towards the long table.

  'Perhaps,' said Karen. 'I'm not sure yet what the plans are.' She was here at Saul's request, to further Ben's interests, she mustn't forget that.

  Max grimaced towards Saul, who was engaged in conversation with a burly man with white hair. 'Point taken,' he said. 'Ah well, I'll look out for you at the pool. That's the best place to keep reasonably cool at the back end of the afternoon.'

  Bill Goodall came trotting up, beaming. 'Good morning, Miss Lane, I have a message for you from my wife. We're making up a little party this evening to see the famous divers at Le Quebrada and we're relying on you to come along. It should be quite exciting. Not to be missed, the tourist books say. May I tell Ann that you'll come?'

  'Thank you, I'd like that,' Karen said eagerly. An evening without the risk of another tête-à-tête with Saul was just what she needed, and he could hardly object to her accepting an invitation from the Goodalls—he had even suggested himself that they should make up a foursome.

  'Splendid, splendid, Ann will be delighted.' Bill Goodall moved away to search the table for his name card. The room was filling up rapidly now, and women were decidedly in the minority, Karen noticed. In fact there were only two beside herself. One was a middle-aged woman, very smart in a sleeveless black dress and a swept-back style to her silver-grey hair. The other was young and dark-skinned and was hovering a little uncertainly behind the crush at the buffet table.

  Saul turned, looking for Karen. 'Come on,' he said, taking her arm and leading her to a chair round the corner from his at the top of the long table.

  Under the buzz of conversation Karen leaned towards Saul and said, 'What do you want me to do? Ben said you needed me to take shorthand notes.'

  For a moment he looked bewildered. Then he grinned. 'Oh—that. No, we have little Miss Valero to do that.' He nodded to the girl who had been hovering on the edge of the group and said, 'Pull up a chair here, just behind me, Isabel.' To Karen he added, with a grin. 'You're in an executive capacity now, my girl, not a secretarial one. And anyway ‑' the dark lashes lowered themselves over his eyes '—that was just a lure to get you to come along.'

  Karen caught her breath. He was fooling, of course, she really couldn't believe that she had made such an impression on him at their first meeting. She could feel her heart begin to beat rather hard. Damn the man, why did he have to say that—to muddle her up again just when she was beginning to feel cool and moderately collected.

  Saul leaned forward in his large executive armchair at the end of the table and picked up the chairman's gavel. 'Are we all ready?' he said, giving it a couple of light taps on the polished mahogany. He hardly raised his voice, but immediately the buzz of talk and the coughing and rustling of papers ceased and all eyes were turned expectantly on the chairman.

  Saul took masterly charge of the proceedings from then on, and Karen could only sit back and admire. He was a born leader, no doubt about that. His personality, his voice, his fluency with words, everything about the man was vital and impressive.

  After a short welcoming spiel he paused for a moment and then continued, 'Now, before we start I'd like to make a short announcement. As most of you know, our group has been having some difficulty in obtaining components of various specialised sorts from outside firms and I've been looking at one or two small companies that we might bring into our fold so that we shouldn't have to go outside our own group and run into difficulties over prices and delivery dates and so on. One of them is Clark's Components of Lessington, in the Midlands. Unfortunately Ben Clark, the managing director, can't be with us today but we have his personal assistant, Karen Lane, here. I think some of you have met her already. Karen will sit in on our first session, while we have our general discussion, and report back to Ben. Meanwhile, she will be glad to answer any questions after the meeting, and I hope you will ask her anything that you feel will be useful to you.' He turned and flashed a smile at Karen.

  'Miss Karen Lane,' he said formally.

  They were all looking at her and there was a murmur of interested voices and one or two desultory hand-claps. She smiled round the table at the faces turned towards her and hoped that her disappointment didn't show. She knew now that she had been half-expecting Saul to announce a firm decision at this meeting, something she could tell Ben straight away. But now it seemed that there was competition. Clark's was the only one of the companies under consideration.


  The conference went its predictable way and Karen sat with a fixed expression of interest on her face, but she wasn't following what was being said, she was watching Saul's reactions to what was being said. He had a mind like a rapier, she thought with a twinge of fear. He cut through fuzzy ideas, twisted garbled suggestions into shape, pounced on anything that seemed promising. He seemed to hold this experienced, gimlet-eyed collection of business men in his hand like a deck of cards, playing off one against the other. And, strangely enough, they seemed to like it; there was very little argument. Oh yes, Saul Marston was a winner, he would always get what he wanted, and nobody was going to influence him against his better judgment. Clark's Components would have to take its chance, along with the other 'possibles'. But it was a bad let-down and she thought that at least he might have hinted at the situation and not raise Ben's hopes as he had done.

  When the session ended at last the company drifted over to the bar and then settled down in the adjoining lounge in groups of twos and threes to discuss the business of the morning. Saul put an arm casually round Karen's shoulders. 'Well, what did you think?' he said. 'Do you like us? Will you recommend us to Ben?'

  She said, 'I thought it was the other way round. That it was up to you to make the decisions. Isn't that what you usually do?'

  He grinned. 'Uh-huh, you're getting to know me, Miss Karen Lane—a man with a power complex, that's me. Now come along and tell me what you want to drink, and I can see several of our company waiting to talk to you.

  Karen sighed and followed him to the bar. If he had already decided he wasn't going to tell her.

  An hour later she made her way up to her room. Saul had suggested lunch but she had pleaded a threatening headache (which was perfectly true) and he had seemed really concerned and. insisted on coming up with her to give her some tablets that he recommended.

  'Two of these will put you right,' he said, shaking them from the container and pouring water from one of the bottles on the side table. 'And by the way, I shouldn't drink water from the tap. It's probably O.K. this is one of the better hotels, all the same it's always a bit of a risk. Now, have a good rest and come down when you feel like it. We've pushed you rather hard, haven't we, but you stood up very well to the cross-examination.

  She sat down on the bed and slipped out of her white sandals. 'You'd better take your dress off too,' Saul said. 'It's going to get hotter by the minute, even the air-conditioning can't always cope.

  'I will,' Karen murmured. But not with you standing there watching me, she thought, meeting his eyes with a little lift of her brows.

  He laughed. 'O.K. I get the message, I'll take myself off. Later on we can make plans for the evening.'

  Karen said, 'The Goodalls have asked me to join their party to see the Quebrada divers. I think that includes dinner somewhere, I'm not quite sure.'

  He frowned. 'And you promised to go?'

  'Yes, of course, it sounded fun,' she said innocently, but she knew he was annoyed.

  Then he shrugged. 'Oh well, so be it. I'll go and invite myself to join the party.'

  He walked across the room and pulled the heavy, printed-cotton curtains. 'That will be nice and dim for you,' he said, 'and keep the heat of the sun out of the room.'

  He came back and stood looking down at her. His eyes were soft, his mouth tender. He looked oddly understanding and somehow comforting and Karen had a crazy impulse to reach up her arms and pull him down to her.

  She drew in an uneven breath. 'Thank you very much, you've been very kind,' she said.

  The enigmatic expression that she was beginning to recognise was back on his face. Then he lifted her feet and laid them on the bed and, bending down, kissed her lightly on the forehead. 'See you,' he said and went quickly out of the room.

  When the door had closed behind him Karen slipped her dress off and stretched out on top of the smooth bedcover, staring at the ceiling. For a few moments she had thought she saw a new side to Saul Marston. Perhaps he wasn't all the hard, ruthless, success-man who took what he wanted and used his charisma to get it. She sighed and closed her eyes.

  The tablets were beginning to make her feel drowsy now. Probably what she had seen in his face had just been a trick of the half-light, she told herself sleepily. She mustn't let herself start imagining that Saul was a caring human being because if she did she might find herself falling in love with him, and that would be madness. What she felt for Saul had nothing to do with what she had always thought of as love. If she let herself be enticed into a purely sexual encounter it would be against everything that she had always believed in.

  She had taken part in countless sixth-form arguments about sex, like every other girl, and always she had stuck to her own point of view—that sex just for the sake of sex was somehow belittling. That you must love a man and be committed to him before you made love with him.

  She still stood by that position—of course she did. But what she had felt for Saul when he took her in his arms out there in the perfumed dusk of the Acapulco moonlight last night was a throbbing awareness of her own body that she had never felt before. A wanton hunger that shocked and bewildered her.

  She mustn't let herself be put in that position again. She must remember Ben, and what she was here for.

  But before she finally drifted off to sleep she could feel thick tears gathering behind her closed eyelids and sliding down her cheeks.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Nearly two hours later Karen woke up feeling light and happy, for no reason that she could think of. Perhaps it was just Acapulco, it really was a paradise. She opened her window and the warm scented air drifted in, gently caressing her bare skin. Far below, in the dazzling sunlight, the scene was like the pictures from all the travel brochures rolled into one. Blue sky, blue sea, white sand, lush greenery trailing over the rocks, little straw-roofed huts under the palm trees, bronzed bodies in shorts or vivid-coloured bikinis, according to sex. The hotel swimming pool was a splash of turquoise against its marble surrounds. Red canvas loungers fringed its edges temptingly. The faraway sounds of splashes and laughter came up to her as she stood at the window.

  She sighed with delight. She couldn't wait to get into that pool. She selected a pink bikini from the pile her mother had bought her as a present on their shopping trip. ('You'll want plenty of bikinis in Acapulco, dear. Jennifer French went there last year and she said you just live in bikinis, plus the minimum of covering when you go into the hotel for meals. She took lots of pretty little dresses and never put one on,') Karen stood in front of the long mirror, struggling with the fastening of the bikini tip, and giggled at the stir she might have caused if she had walked into the conference meeting this morning in this stage of undress.

  The conference! She bit her lip. How unforgivable of her to keep forgetting what she was here for—to look after Ben's interests. She sat on the edge of the bed and picked up the telephone. Surprisingly quickly she got through to the hospital in Mexico City and, concentrating on her Spanish managed finally to speak to the nurse in charge of Ben's ward. 'El Senor Clark? Si, si, he is making satisfactory progress and able to eat a little food today.'

  'Oh, I'm so glad. Please tell him that Karen telephoned to enquire and that I will be writing to give him all the news.'

  She wrote at length to Ben, with a rather heavily-censored account of everything that had happened since she arrived, concentrating on this morning's meeting, carefully avoiding the fact that Clark's Components seemed to be only one of several companies that Saul was considering to fill the gap in his group. It wouldn't hasten Ben's recovery to know that.

  'There are more meetings tomorrow,' she went on, 'but Saul says I won't be needed as they are concerned with policy-making and, I suppose, will be confidential. Everyone has been very friendly and the other directors seem interested in us and have asked me a lot of questions—I think I managed to cope with most of them. Tonight I have promised to go to dinner with a Mr and Mrs Goodall, who are pleasant folk. He's the M.D.
of Goodall Faulds, of Birmingham. Tomorrow is the big wind-up dinner of the conference, and then on Saturday we go our separate ways. I shall come straight back to you in Mexico City, of course, and so hope I'll be the bearer of good news for you.

  I'm just off for a swim, and so wish you were with me—it's been wretched luck the way things have happened. I've just spoken to the hospital and they say you are feeling much better today—I'll hope to see you looking your old self on Saturday. Thumbs up and fingers crossed! Love from Karen.

  P.S. Saul Marchant doesn't really improve on acquaintance. He's very much the Big Tycoon—and he knows it. But he's been ‑'

  She stopped, biting the end of her pen. He's been— what? What could she say about Saul? 'He's been trying to get me into his bed and last night it was touch and go'? Put crudely like that it made it all sound so cheap and she felt guilty and disloyal all over again. How could she ever have let things go so far?

  She wrote '—he's been reasonably friendly and helped me through the ins and outs of the meeting and introduced me to everyone.'

  She sealed the letter and gave it a little pat. 'Ben, I'm sorry,' she said. 'I'm horrid. Forgive me, and get better soon, and let's get back to normal.'

  After that she felt a little less guilty, and for good measure wrote a short letter to her parents at home, before she went down for a swim.

  Karen floated on her back in the pool. The sun burned through her closed eyelids, turning the world rosy pink. From a great distance, it seemed, she heard voices and splashing and the clink of glasses. She began to paddle with her hands towards the edge of the pool, her body rising and falling gently in the clear, warm water. Heaven must be like this, drifting on a cloud, with no hassle, no worries, no people making demands. Just peace.