Brand Of Possession. Carole Mortimer

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      ‘I see.’

      ‘I doubt it,’ he mocked, not rising to her contempt. ‘But I really couldn't give a damn. So, the reason you've been fired?’

      Stacy gave a defiant flick of her head, her long red tresses flying back over her shoulder. ‘If you're that interested ask the director.’

      ‘He's the one who dismissed you?’

      She grinned as she remembered the meeting she had just been through with Martin Payne, her good humour never down for long. ‘You could say that,’ she agreed.

      ‘Then I'll talk to him.’

      Stacy shrugged. ‘Please yourself. I have to go and change for dinner, excuse me,’ and she walked off before he could answer her.

      ‘You didn't tell me your name,’ he called after her.

      She hesitated with her key in the door to her room, turning to look at him as he stood several feet away from her. ‘My name? You seem to be the one with all the answers, so find out!’ She quickly opened the door, slamming it hurriedly behind her.

      She leant back against the door, smiling impishly at her room-mate, who sat on one of the single beds yawning tiredly. As one of the unknowns in the film Stacy didn't merit being given a room of her own, but luckily she liked Juliet Small, which was perhaps as well in the circumstances. Juliet had a slightly smaller part than herself, another love of the hero Jason, so she supposed it was only natural for them to be put in the same room.

      Juliet was slightly older than her, twenty-five to her nineteen, with bubbly black curls and an impish face. She stood up now, stretching her aching limbs. ‘God, I'm tired!’ she groaned. ‘I had to go through that scene in the hayloft with Paul Forbes so many times today that I feel positively unclean!’

      Stacy grimaced, beginning to unpeel the figure-hugging dress from her own tired limbs. ‘I'm not surprised, having to let him paw you all over like that.’

      Juliet grinned. ‘Oh, I didn't mind that. It was all that hay, I have an allergy to it.’

      ‘And I have an allergy to Paul Forbes.’ Stacy stepped out of the dress completely, clothed now in only a pair of minute briefs. ‘Thank God I don't have to let him touch me!’ she shuddered at the thought, going through to the adjoining bathroom to run the water for her shower.

      Juliet followed her. ‘But you have the rape scene,’ she shouted above the roar of the water. ‘And you can bet your life on it that Paul Forbes will want that to be very explicit!’

      ‘Then he can damn well want,’ Stacy said sharply. ‘Even if I were staying I wouldn't allow him to do more than give a token show of rape.’

      ‘Yes, but you know him, he—If you were staying?’

      ‘I shall be leaving tomorrow, Juliet,’ Stacy said with a sigh, explaining her reasons. ‘I'm afraid he's picked on the wrong girl for his next affair,’ she added. ‘He just sickens me.’

      Juliet nodded. ‘At forty-three I think he's rather disgusting to want someone of nineteen.’ She patted her own glowing curls. ‘I'm much more his age,’ she teased.

      ‘Juliet!’ Stacy couldn't help laughing. ‘You don't really like him?’

      ‘Well … Let's just say that it wasn't all acting today. I could have quite enjoyed it if it hadn't been for that hay.’

      Stacy stepped under the water, soaping her body. ‘Shame!’ she taunted lightly. ‘Rather you than me.’ She rinsed herself before turning off the shower and stepping out into the towel Juliet held out to her. ‘Now, I've just been accosted by what I would call a real man—and I do mean real.’

      ‘Well, don't keep him all to yourself. Who was he? Where is he?’

      Stacy laughed softly. ‘By this time he should be upstairs with his employer, Jake Weston.’

      ‘So, what's he like?’

      ‘Tall, dark, handsome, very muscular, arrogant, experienced—very experienced, I would say.’

      ‘He sounds dreamy.’

      ‘Oh, he is.’ In fact Stacy was surprised at the impression the man had made on her. She could still remember the cynical twist to that firm mouth and the taunting mockery of his deep blue eyes. ‘A little overpowering, but definitely dreamy.’

      ‘What's his name?’ Juliet sat back on the bed, her chin resting on her denim-clad knees.

      That brought Stacy up with a start. ‘Do you know, I have no idea. He didn't say and I didn't think to ask,’ although after the way she had refused to tell him her name she doubted he would be any more forthcoming.

      ‘Bowled over by his charm?’

      She smiled, taking her gown for the evening off the rack in the wardrobe. ‘Not exactly. I didn't say he was charming.’

      ‘Oh, I see. So he doesn't have charm to go with all these other attributes?’

      ‘I think he could have, I just didn't see any evidence of it. Are you going to the party tonight? I could show him to you then, he's bound to be there.’

      ‘Oh, I'm going. With him and Paul Forbes in attendance I wouldn't miss it for anything.’

      Stacy laughed. ‘No one seems at all interested in meeting the famous author.’

      ‘Oh, I want to meet him too. He's such a mystery man that I just have to know what he looks like. He's never photographed, you know, not even for the back of his books, he guards his privacy with fanatic intensity.’

      Stacy nodded. ‘I think the man I met just now may have been a sort of bodyguard. He certainly had the physique for it. But from what I can gather Mr Weston isn't worth photographing. I suggested to this other chap that he was short, fat and bald, and he didn't deny it.’

      ‘Not very loyal of him.’

      ‘How can he deny it if it's the truth?’

      ‘Mm,’ Juliet reluctantly agreed. ‘And here was I hoping he guarded his privacy because he's so good-looking.’

      ‘Hard luck,’ Stacy said unsympathetically. ‘You'd better get ready, we'll have to go down to dinner soon.’

      She dressed while Juliet went into the bathroom, her white dress square-necked, with narrow shoulder straps, a thick band of embroidered flowers at the waist before it flared out in four layers of pleated chiffon to just below her knee. It was a beautiful dress and made her hair appear redder than usual. It had been an expensive gown too, and in the light of today's events she wished she had saved the money to help her through what could be weeks of being out of work.

      She applied a light make-up, the natural brightness of her green eyes and her thick sooty lashes needing no adornment. She felt very satisfied with the result by the time she at last surveyed herself in the full-length mirror. As a final gesture she pinned the white gauzy rose she had bought to go with the dress over her left ear in the waving СКАЧАТЬ