Fire With Fire. PENNY JORDAN

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ her. She had to go through with it … but if Drake Harwood chose to print the finished product it would not be of Emma Court, TV newsreader, but simply Emma Court, out of work. He had demanded a price and she was prepared to pay it, but she wasn’t prepared to involve anyone else in that payment.

      ‘Okay, then let’s get it over with shall we?’

      Pat Devlin might not be used to doing the sort of work Drake had engaged her for, but she was a professional to her finger-tips Emma realised in the two hours that followed. Small, and wiry with a shock of thick black hair, she possessed an energy that left Emma limp.

      ‘Take your hair down,’ she had instructed, helping Emma to uncoil her chignon, after she had taken some initial shots of Emma as she had arrived at the studio.

      ‘Look,’ she asked in a kind voice when she had asked her to undress, ‘are you sure …’

      ‘Sure.’

      ‘Okay then.’

      If it wasn’t as bad as she had dreaded it was bad enough. Drake’s magazine was apparently more up-market than many of its competitors and for that reason she had been instructed to make sure all the shots were in good taste, Pat told Emma with a grimace. ‘Personally if I had my way the things would be banned, but a girl has to make a living. He was right about your hair,’ she added when she had positioned Emma on the satin spread. ‘I think you’d better close your eyes,’ she added, ‘they give away too much. You’re supposed to look as though you’re enjoying this, not on the rack. Try to think of something pleasant…’

      All she could think of was that at some future date, Drake Harwood would be looking at her like this. The thought made her so tense that Pat had to stop work. What was one man among thousands, Emma jeered at herself, glad of the mug of coffee Pat brought her.

      ‘Nearly over,’ she encouraged her. ‘God I remember the first nude shots I ever did … I was nearly sick with nerves … but after a while you get used to it …’

      Emma shuddered again, thankful when at last her ordeal was over and she could discard the cream satin underwear Pat had asked her to wear. The satin was soft and of excellent quality, the underwear perfectly respectable, sexy, but in an understated way; the sort of thing she herself might even have worn, for a lover perhaps … but now the mere thought of it against her body revolted her. All she wanted to do was to immerse herself in a tub of hot water and scrub her skin until she felt clean again.

      Unfortunately, it would not be as easy to erase the morning from her mind.

      ‘Okay, here’s your envelope, don’t forget it,’ Pat instructed handing it to her when Emma emerged from behind the changing screen.

      ‘I’ll just pack up my things and then I’ll be on my way too. You know you meet all types in this game, but you … you’re someone I just can’t pigeonhole. You went through agony there, and yet you kept on … why?’

      When Emma shook her head, Pat shrugged. ‘Well I guess it’s your own affair. I’d better get back to my flat and get these developed before Drake starts screaming for them. It’s the first time I’ve done this sort of work for him. Industrial stuffs more his line. Still it makes a change from working for Vogue, and photographing building sites.’

      ‘Well come on, I want to hear ail about it.’

      The first thing Emma had done when she got home was to ring Robert. Now they were sitting in the bar of a quiet local pub, nursing their drinks.

      ‘I can’t take the job.’ She hadn’t meant to say it so baldly, but somehow the words were out and Robert was staring at her as though she had lost her mind.

      ‘Emma have you gone mad. Of course you can take it… They offered it to you, I know that, and it’s the chance of a life-time, just what you’ve always wanted.’

      ‘Just what I did always want,’ Emma corrected unsteadily, ‘I’ve … I’ve changed my mind …’

      Robert glared at her as though he was seeing her for the first time. ‘I see, and is one allowed to ask why? Don’t tell me,’ he continued furiously, ‘it has to be a man. God Emma, I thought you were different, I thought you had more sense, but it seems I was wrong. I thought you wanted a career, not…’

      ‘Love?’ she supplemented drily. ‘All women want that, Robert …’

      Although Robert had leapt to the wrong conclusion, it was easier to let him go on believing it than to try and find some alternative explanation for her decision. Inside she felt sick and shaky, one part of her longing to pour out to him her pain and misery, and another warning her against doing so; against crossing the careful barrier she had always maintained between them.

      Emma wasn’t blind; she was aware that Robert was attracted to her, it would be easy to push that attraction into something more because she needed someone to confide in and comfort her, but if she did they would both end up regretting it. Robert loved his wife, and she wanted no part of a man who was committed to someone else.

      ‘Well I hope to God he knows what you’re giving up,’ Robert said harshly, draining his glass. ‘What do you intend to do now? Stay on with us?’

      Emma shook her head. ‘No that’s not possible I’m afraid …’

      ‘Lover-boy wants a little stay at home wife, is that it?’ Robert practically snarled the words. ‘Very well Emma, if that’s what you want …’

      ‘I’ll give you my notice tomorrow.’ She had to bend her head to hide from him the tears starting up in her eyes.

      ‘If that’s what you want. …’

      It isn’t what I want, her heart cried out rebelliously, but it’s what I have to do … I don’t have any alternative. If she kept quiet and signed her new contract, they would have to abide by it; they would not be able to get rid of her, as they would want to do, once the magazine came out, and she had too much pride to subject herself or them to that.

      Robert drove her home in a stiff silence. She had holidays owing to her which meant that she need not work her notice period. When she told her father and Camilla, neither seemed overly concerned.

      ‘Oh good, you’ll be able to help with the wedding arrangements,’ was Camilla’s selfish remark, while her father commented that it would be nice to have her at home.

      ‘I still can’t believe that tomorrow David and I will be married,’ Camilla said for the umpteenth time. They were in her bedroom, Emma doing her packing for the Caribbean honeymoon David was taking her on. ‘Thank God you were able to persuade that beast Drake Harwood to drop charges.’

      Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

      Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

      Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

      Безопасно оплатить книгу можно СКАЧАТЬ