Love Play by Rosemary Rogers (3 page)

As if she'd been a mind reader Delight said suddenly: 'You think I'm
kind of crazy to be going to such lengths to get away from big brother, don't
you?' Turning around with a pot of lip gloss in her hand she gave Sara an
unusually serious look. 'Well, I'm not. I'm ... I guess I'm really a little bit
scared, you know? And it's only because Carlo's scared - and Carlo's not scared
of anything or anyone but his brother Marco. That's what I meant the other
evening when I said - ' Then with a switch of mood that was typical, she
suddenly turned back to the mirror. 'I guess it doesn't really matter, because
by the time anyone finds out we're both missing, Carlo and I will be married and
safely tucked away in some remote corner of India! And once I have a baby,
well. . . even Marco wouldn't dare do anything then because my baby will be a
Marcantoni! And you can bet I wouldn't let anyone boss a kid of mine around!'

'Well, as long as you name me godmother . . .' Might as well give in
gracefully, Sara thought ruefully. And in a way, wasn't she quite looking
forward to her confrontation with the overbearing Marco? Oh, she'd give him a
piece of her mind, all right!

For the rest of the evening, while they were part of the crush at a rock
concert in Madison Square Garden, both girls were able to forget everything but
the fact that they were having fun. Sara even took a surreptitious drag off a
joint that someone passed around and found that it did make her feel more -
what was the term Delight used? - laid back, that was it!

With the rest of the crowd, all friends of Delight's from her modelling
days, they went to a Greek nightclub that was noisy and lively and had great
food. Sara got a little drunk on Demestica and had a wonderful time; dancing
until her feet ached and she kicked off her shoes and danced some more, with
Delight applauding.

'I love New York! I really do - and maybe I'll just decide to stay here
and do something . . .'

'You're going to California and bail me out first, my girl!' Delight
uttered severely, doing an imitation of Nanny Staggs that had them both in
gales of laughter, so much so that it took at least five minutes to find the
right keys that would open all the locks on the door.

'God, is it actually getting to be light outside or am I seeing
things?'
 

'It is light outside, and that reminds me of an old song — you know
 
the one about Broadway babies . . . Whatever
did I do with my shoes?"

Sara collapsed on to a pile of cushions, half asleep already and barely
hearing Delight say: 'You're still carrying them, you dummy!'

And then the phone rang and Delight ran to answer it in the bedroom and
was hours, or so it seemed, so that Sara really did fall asleep and stayed
there until the sun woke her, streaming in through the Venetian blinds. Her
head ached, and the smell of perking coffee and burnt toast assaulted her
nostrils. Why did Delight always burn the toast?

'Rise and shine, kiddo!'

A blanket was flung over her and Sara burrowed her head under it, making
protesting noises.

'Baby, come on! We got things to do. Gotta pack and make reservations,
and — don't you want to know what Carlo told me? Hah! I knew I was right about
that bastard of a brother of his! Well, let him find out he's not quite as
smart as he thinks he is! Hey ., .!'
 
The
blanket was tugged away revealing Sara's tousled dark hair and mascara-smudged
face, and Delight said soothingly, 'All you need is coffee and a couple of
aspirins and you'll be just fine! I'll bring them to you, huh? And then you can
listen - we need to talk, Sary. And ... and plan! Nothing's going to go wrong,
hear? Because I'd kill myself if it did!'

'What I don't understand,' Sara said later, sitting hunched over the
kitchen table with her head supported by palms pressed against her temples, 'is
whether this is plan A or plan B - and how I let myself get dragged into it!'
Her attempt at humour had a hollow ring to it, even in her own ears.

'Well, you did promise and you can't back out now,' Delight stated
unsympathetically. 'And besides, if you'd taken those vitamins like I did, you
wouldn't have a hangover. Do pay attention, sweetie, this is important, a
matter of life and death - my death if it doesn't work out, and you wouldn't
want that, would you?'

'No . . .' Sara muttered obediently. And then, with a decided effort, 'I
really am trying to pay attention, but why don't we give my head a chance to
stop pounding like a trip¬hammer? It really is hard to hear you . . .'

'The aspirins are going to work in a few minutes, I promise you! And
while they're doing their thing, I'm going to run it past you again. Slowly,
this time. Maybe it'll soak into your subconscious or something, hmm?'

Delight's plan really did sound simple and uncompli-cated, except that -
and Sara shuddered at the thought — for the next few weeks she was supposed to
masquerade as her sister. All her weak objections were brushed aside as she was
reminded that she couldn't - she wouldn't - back out now, surely? Not after she
had promised. . .

'It's only to throw Marco off the track, love! To give us time, so he
won't be able to stop us. He's determined to break us up, and his sending Carlo
off to the absolute wilds of Argentina, of all places — and at a moment's
notice, really proves it! Why, he actually told Carlo that he would not allow -
allow, can you beat that? - a member of his family to be associated with the
likes of me!'

'He didn't!'

'He sure did! He's a prig - and a hypocrite as well! Why, Carlo told me
that his brother keeps dozens of mistresses -all over the world, in fact. But
just because Carlo is a few years younger and not yet in control of his share
of their father's money he's forced to go along with whatever Marco dictates.
He was furious when he learned that we'd been living together, and he made all
kinds of threats . . .' 'Honestly, Delight, surely the man wouldn't dare - and
anyway, I hate to say this, but it has to be said - why doesn't Carlo just
stand up to his brother and refuse to budge? He can't be exactly a child, after
all, and if it's only his brother's money that makes him a lackey, why doesn't
he get a job?' 'You don't understand!' Delight burst out. She paced the
confines of the small kitchen like an angry young panther.

'Carlo doesn't care about the money - in a year or so he'll inherit
plenty of his own. He's just worried. He knows his brother, you see, and how
unscrupulous he is! He'd have — don't laugh, but he'd actually have Carlo
abducted, if he had to. Or he'd . . . he'd have something drastic happen to me.
And I'm not being dramatic this time, I swear it! The man's an absolute,
fucking autocrat of the old kind - he belongs in the Dark Ages! It's that
violent Sardinian-Sicilian blood. Why, their father had his first wife killed
because he thought she had a lover!'

'And you want me to face a man like that?'

'Who said anything about facing? Darling Sary, all you'd have to do is
to be me for a couple of weeks. Go to the places I usually go, do the things I
usually do. So he'll think I'm still in town and stop worrying that I might run
off to meet Carlo somewhere.'

Sara said a trifle grimly: 'And when he finds out you've done exactly
that and I've duped him . . . will I meet with some unfortunate
"accident", do you think?'

'Well, of course not! You're the respectable one of the family, he'd
never do anything toyou. And he doesn't have to know anything. You can just go
back to being yourself, and no one will be the wiser.'

'It's not as easy as that!' Sara tried to warn her sister; and indeed
she had a peculiar feeling - nothing to do with her hangover - that something
was bound to go wrong. Delight's scheme, while it sounded deceptively simple,
all hinged upon her part in the masquerade — and how on earth could she
possibly go on playing Delight for two whole weeks? Apart from the surface
similarity they had both inherited from their mother, they were two very
different women.

In the face of Delight's obdurate, closed look, Sara tried again:
'Darling, do think carefully! I mean, if this man is ... is as clever as you
say he is, and if he's had you investigated, surely he'd know about we? If he
should find out that I'm in Los Angeles too; that we're sharing an apartment. .
.'But he'll find out nothing of the kind!' Delight said riumphantly. 'Sorry,
darling, but we can't share my apartment. You're going to stay on campus, or in
a hotel if you can't stand that thought. And we won't be seen out together. And
as for the rest of your objection — why should he care if I had a half sister
or not? He didn't need to have me investigated all that much — I've never been
really secretive about the life I've led, have I? No, we'll stay away from each
other and go our separate ways. You'll live very quietly and unobtrusively and
I'll make sure everyone sees me everywhere until it's time for us to switch,
and then ...'

Grasping at straws now Sara said weakly: 'But... but the film! Remember,
you told me you had a small part in a straight film — you were all excited
about it! Surely you're not going to turn it down?'

Delight grinned wickedly. 'Turn it down? Hell, no — that would be out of
character for me! But if they don't start shooting soon enough - haven't you
ever wondered, sister dear, if you've inherited any of Mama-Mona's talent?'

Chapter 3

Los Angeles in the fall was hotter than anything Sara could have
imagined, even though she had been warned. Her coolest summer cottons were no
match for the searing heat that seemed to soak through into her bones,
depriving her of her usual brisk energy and even, so it seemed, of her will.
Why else would she still be going along quite unresistingly with Delight's
crazy plan? Because it was insane of course; the whole idea that between them
they could hope to deceive a hard-headed, coldly arrogant Italian tycoon who
had had the wits and the ruthlessness to amass an enormous fortune on his own.
Sara had tried to tell her sister so on several occasions, but Delight had
refused to listen.

'Of course our plan — my plan - is going to work, and don't you dare
think negative, you hear? It's going to work because it has to, that's all. I'm
going mad, not being able to see Carlo or talk to him on the telephone, while
he's stuck in the absolute wilds of Argentina!'

'Darling, I can quite imagine what you must be going through, but -
well, it does rather sound like something out of a novel, you know! If your
Carlo is going to take off on his own in any case, then what's to prevent you
from . . .'

Seeing the storm clouds gather on Delight's expressive face, Sara had
sighed, ending rather lamely, 'Well, I really don't see how this monster of a
big brother could do anything to you! Or what he. could do to you.'

'You don't know him!' Delight said darkly. 'I told you, he's capable of
anything, even arranging for a convenient "accident" to happen to me.
You have to believe me, Sara-this is the only way.'

It meant they couldn't really see each other and do things together as
Sara had anticipated earlier when she had arranged to go to college in Los
Angeles. And it also meant that, trepidations or not, she was committed to keep
her word - take Delight's place in public at a moment's notice while her sister
slipped away to join her lover. Her situation was hopelessly melodramatic; but
she could at least cling to the thought that Mama-Mona, who was a romantic soul
at heart, would have approved, just as definitely as Daddy would not approve,
had he only known. Sara shuddered at the thought that he might find out. More
than ever she found herself wishing that she hadn't agreed to go along with her
sister's crazy plan. The whole scheme was beginning to sound more and more like
a plot of a cheaply made Hollywood spy drama, especially when the only way Sara
and Delight could communicate was by telephone. And Delight always used a pay
telephone when she called because, she said quite seriously, 'I wouldn't put it
past that Marco creep to have my apartment bugged, just to find out if Carlo
and I are still in touch!'

Even their telephone conversations smacked of melo-drama, with Delight
constantly coaching or cueing Sara for the 'role' she must soon play.

'You make this sound like "Mission Impossible"!' Sara
grumbled, adding, 'I suppose I should feel grateful that you've stopped smoking
those ghastly strong cigarettes -that's one habit I'd have absolutely refused
to take up, even for you, sister dear!'

'Well, Carlo didn't like my smoking ... cigarettes, that is!' Delight
gave an irrepressible giggle before she continued patiently: 'All right - now
tell me the name of my hairdresser and how much-I always tip him . . .'

'Don't you think this is all kind of.., ridiculous? Marco's never met
you, and he probably doesn't know anything about your . . . your hairdresser or
your favourite saleslady at Fiorucci - or care either!' Sara's voice showed
strain. 'Honestly, Delight. . ,!'

'You don't know anything about
Carlo's big brother!' Delight retorted obdurately. Sara could just imagine her
sister's purse-lipped frown. 'He's the kind who wouldn't miss a trick. Are' you
kidding? He'd have had me investigated only too thoroughly. Sara,' her voice
quivering slightly, 'you just have to mind what I tell you and not let your
guard down for an instant, do you understand? The longer he continues to think
that you are me, the longer we'll be safe, Carlo and I and . . . and our unborn
baby!' .

It was Delight's trump card, and just as she had no doubt anticipated,
it put an end to all Sara's arguments - rallying all her sympathy and fierce
protectiveness to the forefront immediately.

'Why didn't you tell me before? Oh, darling, what you must be going
through! And I've been giving you such a hard time too . . .! You can stop
worrying, I won't let you down, and I'll put that nasty, cold-blooded . . .
gangster off for as long as I have to. And believe me, he'll get a piece of my
mind too, before this is all over. My God . . .!' Sara's voice suddenly
registered delayed shock. 'I can hardly believe I'm going to be an aunt, of all
things!'