Lady Be Bad (10 page)

"Lovely to meet you, miss. Mr. Drake has
spoken of you ad infinitum for the last two years."

"What's up, Perkins?"

"Both Miss Gwen and Mr. Kingman are looking
for you, sir." He took an antique watch from the pocket of his vest
and snapped it open. "The guests are beginning to mingle on the
terrace for the cocktail party."

Marlayna gasped. "Oh, damn! I haven't even
started to get ready."

"You never did tell me why you're here,"
Noah persisted.

"I'm Arthur's 'Face of the Century.'" At his
confused expression, she walked to the dresser and picked up the
new issue of
Vogue.
"For his cosmetic empire." She pointed
to her photograph on the cover. "See."

Noah did a double take. "That's not you." He
grabbed the magazine and showed it to Perkins. "Is that her?"

The manager looked down his rather prominent
nose and replied: "I do believe it is, sir." His blue gaze studied
Marlayna's face. "A stunning cover, miss."

"Why thank you, Perkins." She gave him a
smile before turning to Noah. "I've been extolling the magic of
Kingman Cosmetics for the last year, and their sales have
tripled."

"I don't believe it."

"Well, thanks a lot," Marlayna returned
huffily. "This face …" she tapped her cheek, "has made me a small
fortune. Arthur Kingman happens to love this face and the rest of
me as well," came her nasty addendum.

"And has he had a chance to?" Noah asked, in
an equally nasty tone.

"Sir." Perkins again tapped his watch. "The
time. Miss, the party."

"All right. All right," Noah snapped. "I'm
going to want a few answers later myself, Mimi."

"Not as many as I want, Noah Drake." She
turned and with a slam of the door, disappeared into the adjoining
bathroom.

Walking down the castle's wide
granite-walled hallway, Noah finally broke the silence. "Uhh,
Perkins, I know what you must be thinking."

"I am not paid to think, sir."

His hand reached for the house manager's
arm. "Stop a minute, will you." Noah looked up the extra four
inches past his own six-foot height that was needed to stare into
the man's blue eyes. "Now, Perkins, how long have we known each
other?"

"Going on nearly two years, sir."

"And in that time, when it was just you and
me and the work crew on the island, how much money have you beaten
me out of at cribbage?"

"Quite a bit, sir."

"Enough to make you think?"

Perkins allowed a brief laugh to escape his
closed lips; his expression, however, remained stoic. "I think,
sir, that while you're dressing for the party, I 'll bring you that
triple scotch and perhaps pour a double for myself and then we can
think about all this together."

"Brilliant, Perkins." Noah sighed. "You
always know the proper thing to do."

Twisting the hot faucet off and holding her
breath, Marlayna waited for the cold water to hit. The icy wash
needled into her back and across her shoulders, invigorating her
physically and energizing her mentally. She counted to ten, quickly
ended the shower, wrapped her shivering form in a fluffy rose bath
towel and stepped out of the cubicle onto the white tiled floor of
a bathroom that was the size of most people's living room.

Bathroom, she decided with an irreverent
grin, was such a bourgeois word to call this impressive ensemble of
intimate furnishings. The room continued the bedroom suite's pastel
pink theme, with sink, toilet, tub and bidet all blushing against
white Roman tiles. A crystal chandelier shimmered over a sunken tub
surrounded by a garden of potted palms and ten parakeets that were
artificial but had eyes that stared with unsettling interest.

Marlayna found herself duplicated into
infinity in the floor-to-ceiling mirrors that paneled two of the
walls. "Nice." She patted her cheek and in doing so patted hundreds
of others. "But we don't have time for more than the original right
now." With a silent promise to wallow in bubbles for at least an
hour in the jetted tub, she adjourned to the globe-lit mirror over
the pedestal sink and began to make up the 'Face of the
Century.'

"So, Noah Drake, you had trouble believing
this face could grace a magazine cover, did you?" She leaned closer
to the mirror and inspected the insulted area. "Well, granted, it's
not a remarkable face. In fact, it's a pretty ordinary face."
Marlayna picked up the bottle of foundation and a tiny cosmetic
sponge. "Canvas. That's what the makeup men always call a face — a
canvas on which to create a masterpiece of color and shadows and
illusion."

She found her canvas needed very little in
the way of artificial enhancement. The seemingly interminable
malaise that had been her companion for so many years had ended.
Now every part of her bloomed. Her movements were more graceful,
her hair a shiny pelt of caramel highlighted sable curls; her eyes
shone brilliant as lapis lazuli gemstones, and her complexion
radiated the inner excitement that was making her feel quite
intoxicated.

This was the same giddiness that had always
assaulted her senses when she first started dating Noah — a
delicious rainbow of emotions that made her feel brand new and on
the verge of experiencing something wonderful. Marlayna twisted the
cap on the tube of navy mascara closed and reached for her brush to
shape and fluff her hair. Her hand hovered for a moment before
closing tightly around the wooden handle.

"Damn Noah!" With that sudden explosion, her
expression changed. "He got away without explaining one damn thing.
The man even had the gall to make a few snide insinuations."

Marlayna inhaled deeply. "I'm insulted. He
expects a few kisses to wipe out all the agony." The brush's wide
bristles whipped her curls into elegant disarray. "That man is
arrogant, nervy and too damn sure of himself and me. No woman likes
to be taken for granted, especially when she hasn't been taken for
anything in the last six years."

By the time a slip dress of red silk
Charmeuse replaced the terry bath towel and high-heeled evening
sandals graced her feet, Marlayna still hadn't any idea of what she
was going to say or do. Or how she was going to act not only toward
Noah but also toward Arthur Kingman and his daughter Gwen.

Her two index fingers coaxed fiery lips
upward. "Well, at least you look and feel terrific, lady." With a
flirty wink at her reflection and a devil-may-care smile on her
face, she left to join the party.

King Arthur headed a receiving line of
three. He kissed her hand and inspected her from toe to head. His
gray eyes scrutinized her face for a long moment before a plethora
of compliments erupted. "I've exhausted the dictionary and still
there is no word that could describe such loveliness, such
exquisite beauty."

Normally, Marlayna would have given him one
of her well-rehearsed professional smiles while she slithered her
hand from his. But not tonight. Tonight, her ego needed the
attention, the fawning and the flattery. In fact, her mood matched
the weather: sultry.

So, she let him kiss her hand a second time
and decided to repay his appreciation in kind. "Arthur, you are the
perfect host. There isn't a thing to want."

He leaned closer to her and said in a low
whisper. "There is
one
thing that I want. That only you can
give, Marlayna."

She giggled girlishly, interrupting what she
knew was a very personal
want.
Her kohl-rimmed eyes slanted
to his left. "And this must be your Gwen."

Arthur cleared his throat, adjusted his
black bowtie and then smoothed the lapels on his white evening
jacket. "Yes. Darling, this is Marlayna O'Brian, she's --"

"Why, Daddy, I know who she is. I do look at
our advertising." Gwen extended her hand and smiled. "It's a
pleasure to finally see you other than on the pages of a magazine,
Miss O'Brian."

"Please, make it Marlayna." Her gaze drifted
toward the man who stood next to Gwen, a man who was staring at her
with yet another dumbfounded expression on his face. She decided to
anticipate Arthur's introduction, simply because she didn't want to
hear that Noah was Gwen's fiancé. "And this must be Noah Drake, the
architect you were telling me about earlier, Arthur." Both her
hands encompassed his. "The castle is incredible."

"Thank you," came his dry
acknowledgment.

"Marlayna." Arthur moved quickly to her
side, his hand curving in a proprietary gesture around her bare
upper arm. "Let me get you a drink and introduce you to my other
guests." His fingers rubbed against silken skin. "I want everyone
to have the pleasure of meeting you."

Her eyes were focused on Noah's face; he
looked ready to explode. And that made her feel even more reckless
and daring. This seemed the perfect time to flirt and enjoy and be
carried along with events.

After all, she was a sophisticated, mature
woman. A
single
woman, who hadn't had any fun in six years.
Marlayna favored her host with a beaming smile. "That's terribly
sweet, Arthur. I'd be honored."

Noah took a step to halt Marlayna's progress
but found his own impeded when the rubber tip of his cane became
tangled in the lace on Gwen's long gown. "Oops. Sorry."

Inhaling sharply, Gwen hastily straightened
the halter neckline and then reeled up a yard of the fragile
material for inspection. "Nothing ripped." She looked from the
dress to her father. "I think Miss O'Brian may become a permanent
acquisition of Daddy's."

"What the hell is that supposed to
mean?"

Her brow arched at the roughness in his
voice. "It means that Daddy likes her. I can always tell, he gets
this glazed look and…"

"And what?"

Gwen gave a little shrug. "What Daddy likes
and wants, he always manages to get." She twisted her head slightly
to look at him. "We both share that trait."

He shifted more of his weight onto the cane.
"That might work for things, Gwen, but not for people."

She bit her lip. "Especially not for you?"
When he made no reply, her hand curled around the cuff of his
dinner jacket. "You've ignored me for most of the day." Her lower
lip pouted. "And why did you tell Daddy not to make any sort of
announcement about our engagement? It was printed on the
invitations. I feel humiliated."

"I wasn't consulted about the invitations.
In fact, I wasn't even consulted about the engagement." Noah took a
deep breath and altered the harsh tone of his voice. "Look, there's
that tennis player with the unpronounceable name. Why don't you go
get some pointers."

Her brown eyes lit up. "Come with me and
—"

"I think in my case it would be rather
pointless."

"I...I'm sorry. I...just. . .didn't
think."

Noah's smile was kind. "At your age, you
shouldn't have to think about things like that." He put his hand
against the small of her back and gave her a little shove. "Go on.
We'll talk later."

"Tact and diplomacy. Tact and diplomacy."
Noah repeatedly mumbled that phrase, nodding and smiling and
skirting his way around the nearly two hundred people who were
enjoying drinks and appetizers on the massive walled terrace.

Yes, tact, diplomacy with a healthy topping
of delicacy. Those would be the perfect ingredients needed to edge
out of this one-sided engagement and still maintain some sort of
friendly relationship with Arthur Kingman. Odd, a dozen years ago
he would have been more forthright, perhaps even brutal, about
setting this situation straight. But with a man as powerful as King
Arthur, a man known for taking great pleasure in the ruination of
an enemy, honesty and the direct approach was not the way to
go.

Stopping to rest, Noah let his gaze wander
over the crowd. He quickly focused on one laughing, chattering
woman. A woman surrounded by an attentive conclave of men. A woman
clad in a rather scandalous siren-red dress. A woman he still
considered his wife. She was not behaving at all like his Mimi. She
didn't even look like his Mimi.

Noah settled on an out-of-the-way pink
marble patio bench that was shielded from view by a topiary garden
of miniature evergreens pruned to resemble chess pieces. Peering
through a rook, he began to dissect her. He decided to start at the
top with her hair.

Perkins interrupted his musings by inquiring
whether he needed anything. "Yes. You." Noah patted the polished
bench top. "Have a seat, Perkins; I need your opinion."

"Really, sir, I'm a bit busy at the moment
with the
other
guests. When I saw you ambling to this spot
to rest, I thought perhaps you could use this scotch." He extended
a silver tray. "Perhaps these canapés would substitute."

Noah pulled him down despite his continued
blustery refusal. "Nonsense, you deserve a break. No one can see
us. I'll take this." He confiscated the glass. "You munch on the
shrimp puffs." A healthy mouthful of liquor fueled him on to attack
his subject. "What do you think of Miss O'Brian's hair?"

Perkins' gray brows lifted. "Her hair,
sir?"

"Yes. You know, this is the first time I've
seen her with it short and those streaky things. She always wore
her hair long." His voice was dreamy. "Brushed back from her
forehead and whispering against her shoulders. It felt like silk,
Perkins. Midnight silk."

Clearing his throat, Noah continued. "Now. .
. well. . . hmmm . . ." He pushed a branch to one side, his gaze
narrowing on Marlayna. "I do like the way those little wisps curl
around her ears. She's got great ears, Perkins. And her nape is
exposed. A lovely sweep. And, you know the way it tumbles onto her
forehead, well. . . that is kind of…" a deep chuckle rumbled in his
chest, "sexy in a tumbled, rumpled, wild sort of way."

Perkins merely grunted and bit into a slice
of cucumber topped with red caviar, crumbled egg and a black
olive.