Potrait of Jamie Read online

  She stared back at him unrepentant, her dark blue eyes hazed with violet. 'I suppose I should be overcome and burst into floods of grateful tears, but the fact is I don't want to. I might have needed my grandfather once, but I don't any more.'

  'Must I underline the fact he hasn't long to live?'

  'How old is he anyway? Late sixties, early seventies?'

  'He's seventy-two and he survived a massive heart attack last year. He won't again. Aren't you curious, Jaime, even if you're determined not to be compassionate?'

  Her heart seemed to twist and she hated him for his consummate ability to place her in the wrong. 'You come to me, a stranger,' she said a little wildly, 'talking about either?'

  'I'm not a stranger at all,' he pointed out. 'I've been used to your face since I was a small boy. There's a portrait of your mother in the drawing room at Falconer, your grandfather's home.'

  'I'm surprised it wasn't removed!' she flashed at him.

  'It was for some years.'

  'I wish I had it, I would treasure it,' she said impulsively.

  Through the black glimmering lashes he saw the startling blue eyes ablaze with sudden tears. Her eyes were remarkable, Ming blue into mauve, the same beautiful underglaze blue he had seen in Imperial Chinese porcelain. She was an exotic young creature and once her grandfather had her, he would guard her fiercely. It was his intention anyway, that much Quinn knew.

  Only the fact that his own taste didn't include young girls permitted him to sit back and study her so dispassionately. Her dress was a soft yet dense blue several shades lighter than her eyes, and it had to be a prized possession, for it was beautifully cut and designed, hand-painted in the Oriental fashion with birds and flowering sprays of blossom in pinks and jade and bluish purple. Despite her youth, she wore it with considerable panache, her flawless young skin gleaming against the duller sheen of the fabric.

  Instead of being the forlorn orphan, she would hopelessly outshine her cousins, not that they weren't angry enough and shocked into bewilderment by the Old Man's decision to invite Rowena's daughter to Falconer. Only she was so beautiful and in complete contrast to what he had expected; he would have felt sorry for her, but she was a fighter, a confident young creature, not lost and lovely. There was a delicate determination and strength to those precisely cut features, shown to great advantage with her hair swept severely back to her nape. He hadn't the slightest doubt she would stir up a lot of feeling with her flame-like quality. No one, not even Rolf, would crush her if his assessment of her temperament was accurate. Perhaps she had a lot of the Old Man in her.

  Something about his expression, a dark brooding, made the colour burn in her cheeks. 'What are you thinking about?' she demanded.

  'If I told you, Jaime, I'd regret it.'

  'I can't imagine my uncles and cousins would be pleased to see me,' she said.

  'Only your Uncle Gerard lives at Falconer with his father. His wife's name is Georgina and they have a son and daughter, Simon and Sue-Ellen, both of them several years older than you are.'

  A faint tension was on him, showing itself in the set of his midnight-dark head, the hard, charming smile.

  'How did your uncle die?' she asked him.

  'By design,' he said in a voice that completely stopped her, and she blurted:

  'I can't see you suffering on a woman's account.'

  'You're dead right!'

  'You don't like me, do you?'

  'If I'm bound to answer you, I don't have to like you, Jaime, nor you me. It's not important. The thing for you to do is consider your grandfather's invitation.'

  'Have no fear, I will. What is it exactly?'

  He leaned forward, not taking his eyes off her. 'Come to Falconer for an indefinite period. As long as you like. An extended holiday if you like.'

  'And what am I supposed to do all day?'

  'I'm sure that'll be no problem.'

  'What do my cousins do?'

  'Simon has a degree in law. He's part of the firm, the Hunter Sterling Land Corporation. Sue-Ellen keeps busy pulling out all the pleasure stops.'

  'That's all very well, but I have to earn my living.'

  'What do you do now?' he asked.

  'Look after my father.'

  'Surely he can look after himself?' He lifted one eyebrow.

  'I mean I assist him with his work, the painting and the pottery—the donkey work, of course, but I have ability of my own. I wanted to do a fine arts course, but I couldn't talk him into it.'

  'Couldn't you do it yourself ?'

  'Courses have to be paid for, Mr Sterling.'

  He gave her a mocking, speculative look. 'Then I think you should be pretty happy to accept your grandfather's invitation. Now that I've seen you, I think he'll give you anything you want in this world.'

  'He can't give me my mother back or all the lost years.'

  'Were they lonely?'

  His brilliant black eyes seemed to be raying right through her and she averted her head, her heart beating rapidly. 'Of course they were. What a question! I don't think you're trying to persuade me overmuch.'

  'True. I think you'll make up your own mind.'

  She turned her head back quickly to meet those veiled dark eyes. 'Or you have a very subtle way of manipulating people, Mr Sterling. What's your position in the scheme of things?'

  'Aide to the General,' he said, his eyes gleaming.

  'What about my uncles and cousins?'

  'They're around.'

  'It's strange, nevertheless, that you were chosen. What were you looking for, the supreme opportunist?'

  'I was looking for Rowena's daughter.'

  'A rare honour due to my grandfather's advanced age and mellowness. Well, your trip didn't work out as well as you thought, because I don't feel like visiting Falconer at this late stage, and I don't feel like meeting the lions.'

  'You ought to. You aren't the one to curl up quietly in a corner.'

  'I mean to shine in my own way, Mr Sterling,' she retorted.

  'Can't you make it Quinn? After all, I've been calling you Jaime.'

  'And I didn't say you could!'

  'You're not serious!' His glance travelled over her.

  'Perhaps you thought you were jollying along a schoolgirl?'

  'I know exactly how old you are, Jaime. I even know your birthday.'

  'Go on, what else?'

  'That you're stubborn.'

  'Moderately. Surely you didn't expect me to act the dutiful, loving granddaughter—let bygones be bygones !'

  'As a matter of fact I do. Your grandfather is a very rich man. I think he wants to put his affairs in order. Not the business, that's all taken care of, but family matters. You may think it extremely odd, but he adored your mother, and he's notably anxious to transfer that adoration to you.'

  'How charming!' She flickered him a burningly blue glance. 'There's no denying a miracle has occurred to soften his old heart.'

  'They do happen.'

  'I suppose I should be generous,' she pondered.

  'Don't imagine him a suffering silver-haired old gentleman,' he said. 'Your grandfather's formidability is enormous.'

  'Do you like him?' she asked with concentrated attention.

  'I admire him in many ways. He's brilliant and shrewd and ruthless and his business faculty is little short of genius.'

  'In other words, someone like you.'

  'Do I seem that way to you, Jaime?'

  'Yes, or you're planning to be f'

  'Will you come?' he asked.

  He had a fascinating voice that could shrivel a woman under different circumstances, she thought. 'I wonder if my mother would want me to? Did you hate my mother, by the way, for what she did to your uncle?'

  'I was only a boy,' he said, looking at her through hooded lids.

  'Children feel and erupt. I think you're fairly volcanic under that patrician remoteness.'

  'If you were a woman you might find out, but you're only an impudent child.'


  'Oh no, I'm not!' she said softly, knowing he was not to be trusted, but against her will liking the sound and the sight of him. 'Anyway,' she said, pretending a casualness she did not feel, 'I'll have to speak to Derry.'

  'He's all for it!'

  'I gathered as much, but what I don't know is why?'

  Something flickered in his night-black eyes, an intolerable cynicism. 'Perhaps your father has decided your mother's portion is due to you and you'd better go along and collect it.'

  'One powerful reason not to go at all!' she said passionately.

  'Do you fear a family reaction—jealousy?'

  'In a word, no! I don't fear one of those Christian souls. Not only did my grandfather desert me but my uncles as well. They're all pretty short on charity. What about the Sterlings? They must have known my mother well?'

  'I believe they treated her like a daughter, but their love and trust was shattered when she eloped with your father. Nigel's habitual stupor, then untimely demise, eventually and understandably hardened their hearts.'

  'Why id she do it?' she murmured, staring at him with her glowing blue eyes.

  'That's a strange question from you, Jaime. Obviously she was quite mad about your father. He's taken good care of you, hasn't he?'

  'I've no complaints!' And forget the bad times, she thought.

  He was silent for a minute, his dark gaze holding her still. 'Family ties bind us all. Come to Falconer and meet your grandfather.'

  'And leave in an hour if I decide to?' she insisted.

  'I'll drive you to the airport myself.'

  'I might keep you to that, Mr Sterling.'

  'That sounds as if you're coming.'

  'I might take an instant dislike to him.'

  'As you've taken to me?'

  She caught the mockery on his face and the brilliance of his gaze dazzled her. 'I don't dislike you, Mr Sterling,' she said with mock gentleness, 'I just don't trust you, that's all. Neither should my grandfather.'

  'Now why on earth should you say that?'

  'There's a lot goes on behind your black eyes.'

  He smiled and leaned forward, catching her hand in his lean strong fingers. 'I'll try not to keep anything from you, Jaime, if you come. And please do call me Quinn.'

  'I might, but deep inside me I'll think of you as a Sterling, maybe even the enemy.'

  'The reverse is true,' he said, pinning her trembling wrist. 'I'll never hurt you.'

  'You've wanted to at least once since we've met.'

  'Do you really think so?'

  He released her and her hand fell away. 'Men like you sometimes do feel like that.'

  'You'd better tell me what you mean, Jaime. You look very sheltered to me for all your bravado.'

  'I don't mean anyone has ever hurt me, I mean I can recognise male hostility.'

  'I could appreciate it better if you'd only sensed interest,' he rejoined.

  'That too.'

  'Well, you should be a meek little girl with sandy hair instead of a challenging beauty.'

  'That doesn't mean you can't be kind to me,' she said.

  'Does it matter anyway, Jaime?'

  'No, but having you on my side would be a help rather than a hindrance.'

  'You're so right!'

  She got up and turned on a light and it splashed down on her shining jet black hair. She was a lovely, destructive young thing, perhaps already set on her mother's path, promising all the lure of the Garden of Eden and delivering nothing. Rowena the witch had made a battlefield of his family, and made a few people desperately unhappy. What was he doing here helping her daughter to put some other poor fool in bondage? Her beauty at that moment was almost an affront and it was unstressed, unpolished and still heart-stopping. She might start off an epidemic of self-executions. Quinn nearly groaned aloud as so many memories passed before his eyes in a pitiless kaleidoscope. His white teeth clamped together and he looked towards the paintings on the wall, deliberately seeking out a safe topic.

  'Do you paint yourself?'

  'A little,' she said, aware of the menace in him.

  'Do you get paid for it?'

  'No.'

  'What would you like to do?' he asked rather curtly. Besides go to a man's head, he thought to himself ironically.

  There was about him a palpable aura of sexual antagonism against which Jaime had to protect herself. He might say he didn't resent her, but he did. Perhaps he didn't see her as herself at all but a girl in a portrait. He realised she hadn't answered him and he turned his head to her.

  'I said what would you like to do ?'

  'I heard you.' Her blue-violet eyes met his directly and quite fearlessly. 'Something creative, I think. I have potential.'

  'That you have, but in what field were you thinking of?'

  'Women's fashions perhaps. I think I'd like to start my own business—design, cut-out assembly. I can handle the lot.'

  'Did you make that dress you have on?'

  'I did,' she said with not a flicker of self-consciousness.

  'Then you obviously know what you're about, but it takes a lot more than that.'

  'I'm aware of it, and I'm not about to ask my grandfather to pitch in and help.'

  'Let it lie for a moment, Jaime. Who taught you to sew?'

  'A good friend a long time ago,' she said almost aggressively, 'a few years at school. It's a natural flair and easy enough. I learnt it all in a quarter of the time, though the nuns were very good teachers. The only mistake they made was in thinking all girls sew well naturally. They don't.'

  'I believe it. Your cousins Sue-Ellen and Leigh have never plied a needle in their lives.'

  'How do you know?'

  'I know them quite well. In any case I've never seen them look better than you do in that dress.'

  'There's nothing wrong with your flattery,' she said definitely.

  'Why pretend?' He lifted his head and stared at her. 'You know how you look.'

  She sighed at the hardness of his expression. 'Which mightn't make my cousins so fond of me.'

  'Perhaps not. We'll exclude Simon and Brett.'

  Jaime frowned. 'It's difficult to keep track of all the names. I don't really think it would work. I can see by your face you can't assure me of a warm welcome.'

  'That's overdoing it!' he said as though he meant it. 'I thought you told me you were moderate.'

  'I'm not really.'

  'I know that. One good reason why I think you'll come.'

  'Do you always know how people will react?' she asked.

  'I've had considerable experience. Isn't it true you like to hurdle difficulties?'

  'I usually shove myself over them. If you're going to stay and have dinner with us, I'd better prepare it.'

  'Why don't I take you out to a restaurant? Your father won't mind.'

  'Well, that's a suggestion,' she said, looking at him in surprise. 'I sometimes feel sorry for myself.'

  'You're not honour bound to cook for your father all the time. He's still a young man and he did mention a particular friend. Tavia, isn't it?'

  'He'll never marry her,' Jaime said briefly.

  'Why not?'

  'I'm sure of it,' she said rather tautly. 'The flesh is weak but the head is strong.'

  He laughed under his breath, a dark attractive sound. 'There's always the woman to upset a man's plans.'

  'I didn't ask you, are you married?'

  For the first time she looked little more than a child, an honest question in her dark blue eyes. 'Don't look so earnest, Jaime,' he taunted her. 'I'm not a bad man asking you out to dinner and then a stroll on a moonlit beach. I'm a determined bachelor.'

  'I can almost hear the Thank God!'

  'Don't tell me!' His black eyes mocked her.

  'To my certain knowledge you thought it.'

  'So I did. I might have known with your black hair and your blue eyes you'd be a witch. That's what poor old Nigel used to call your mother. Rowena, the witch!'

  'Who brought him
to grief.'

  'She didn't fare so well herself.'

  'God knows that's true.'

  'Now what?' he asked rather tersely.

  'Don't confuse me with my mother.'

  'It's difficult not to. I know every line of your face, the shape of your eyes and the tilt of your brows, even the curve of your cheek. Only the expression is different. You'll see what I mean when you get to Falconer.'

  Jaime shook her head a little as though he was trying to put her into a trance. 'I don't need to bother with' anyone else's face, not even my mother's. Anyway, Derry painted my portrait not so long ago. Would you like to see it? It might rid you of the vision of the other one—the one you don't like.'

  'You're determined to read my mind, Jaime.'

  'I would say I'm not too far off now. Do you want to see the portrait?'

  'I can't think of anything I'd like better at the moment.'

  'I'd get it, but it's too heavy to move and I'd have to stand on a chair. You'll have to come to it. It's in my room.'

  Her heart was racing and she stood up, determined to hold fast on the giddy feeling that had befallen her since she met this man.

  'You lead and I'll follow,' he said with a faint smile. 'What's the matter, Jaime, you did invite me.'

  'There's nothing the matter,' she said abruptly, 'and I wouldn't admit it even if there were!'

  'Good girl! I couldn't have taught you better myself.'

  'I thought that myself,' she admitted. 'It's best to size up the other side should our lives get linked up.'

  Something flickered in his black eyes. 'You're going to make your mark, Jaime!'

  'I have a few projects in mind. Most of my father's women friends have been women on their own - women who've had to turn their hands to something to support themselves and their children of broken marriages. No man is going to have me at his mercy. Whatever assets I've got I'm going to use them to their fullest extent. I'm always going to be ready.'

  'You might make some men nervous, Jaime.'

  'Not you, I'm sure!'

  'I was brought up in a hard school myself. Incidentally, it was all to the good, though I often wanted to alter it at the time.'

  'You look unassailable now,' she commented.

  'Is that a compliment, Jaime? It doesn't sound like it.'

  'It's a compliment in its way, coupled with something else I'll leave you to find out.'