Wild Melody (8 page)

charming smile and a wonderful deep voice.

'Don't be deceived. Hugo appears to be very gentle, but he can bellow like

an ox when he's angry,' Sally said wryly.

The next hour or so was taken up with looking over the rest of the centre.

Catriona was introduced to so many people that she promptly-lost track of

most of their names and faces as soon as they moved on. She regretted in

many ways that she could not share some of her excitement with her friends

in Torvaig, but they saw so little television— there was a set at the manse

which worked irregularly—that her experiences would mean little to them.

One disappointment was a good-looking young newscaster she had made a

point of watching each evening.

'He's much smaller than I imagined—and different,' she said rather sadly to

Sally, who smiled understandingly.

'It's an unreal world, I'm afraid,' she said, with a slight wave at their

surroundings. 'We're just creators of illusion half the time.' She glanced past

Catriona and her pretty face hardened. 'And talking of creations, here comes

Moira.'

Catriona longed to turn and stare, but she kept herself strictly under control.

She was glad she had, when a husky and very feminine voice said from

beside her, 'I thought Hugo had placed an embargo on sightseers, Miss

Fenton.'

Moira Dane was tall, with a figure just bordering on voluptuousness,

becomingly encased in a black velvet trouser suit. Her violet eyes examined

Catriona minutely, then dismissed her as an obvious nonentity.

'I don't think he intended a complete ban, Miss Dane,' Sally replied

smoothly. 'He just got a little annoyed with visitors at every rehearsal.'

A faint colour rose in Moira's cheeks.

'Well, I'm glad he's being a little more reasonable,' she said with a shrug. 'As

it happens I'm meeting a cousin of mine for lunch, and I'm sure she'd like to

watch the run- through as well as your little friend.'

Her last inflection had an unmistakably questioning note, and Sally

hastened to repair the omission by performing formal introductions.

'Catriona Muir?' Moira repeated. 'Now I do believe I re heard that name

somewhere before. I wonder where it could have been.'

'You must be thinking of someone else, Miss Dane,' Catriona said steadily. 'I

only arrived in London last week.'

'Nevertheless--' Moira shrugged again. 'It will come back to me eventually.

Things always do.'

'No doubt,' Sally said shortly. 'Well, you must excuse us now. We're

lunching too.' And she swept Catriona away.

'Does Hugo really dislike visitors?' Catriona asked anxiously once they were

out of earshot. Sally grinned a little.

'He doesn't care for Moira's visitors very much,' she retorted. 'They won't

keep quiet during scenes, and they do incredible things like asking Jan the

production assistant to bring them coffee. Hugo got good and mad and said

he wasn't providing free entertainment for gaping onlookers any more, but

he was very sweet when I asked if you could come along.'

Catriona felt relieved, but at the same time she knew the concession had not

pleased Moira, and she hoped their paths would not cross again during the

afternoon's important rehearsal.

The studio canteen facilities were housed on the top floor of the building.

There was a cafeteria section at one end, partitioned off from the restaurant

which had waitress service.

Both sections were already quite crowded when they arrived, but Sally led

the way unhesitatingly across the thick carpet with its brilliant geometrical

pattern in red, gold and black.

'Mr Lord's table, Molly,' she told the waitress who came to meet them, and

they were shown at once to a reserved place by the window. There was a

breathtaking view over the city and Catriona was soon trying to spot

landmarks and find the blue ribbon of the Thames winding its way in the

distance.

'Oh, Sally, I've never enjoyed myself so much in my life,' she said

impulsively, turning to look at her friend, who was giving the menu the

same kind of rapt attention she had been paying the landscape. 'The only

blot on it is having to be nice to that Lord man.'

'Well, don't let that spoil your day,' a voice she knew only too well chipped

in curtly, and Jason Lord swung himself into the third chair at the table.

'You've never allowed good manners to stand in the way before, Miss

Muir—why bother now?'

Catriona was blushing to the roots of her hair. She had been guilty of a piece

of schoolgirlish rudeness, and had been well repaid for it.

'I didn't know you were there,' she managed at last.

'I'm sure you didn't.' He handed her a menu. 'What's your pleasure, Miss

Muir—or do you prefer another bite at the hand that intends to feed you?'

'Stop teasing her, Jason,' Sally said chidingly. 'You know what they say

about eavesdroppers, anyway.'

'Oh, I'm used to hearing no good of myself, aren't I, Cinderella?' He smiled

at Catriona, who glared back at him, hating the memories the nickname

invoked.

Sally laid down her menu. 'You choose for us, Jason. And just remember

that wedding dress is a tight fit even when I've had no lunch!'

'Okay. How does prawn cocktail, followed by a steak and green salad,

sound?'

'Fine,' said Sally immediately. Catriona wanted to reject the suggested meal

out of hand, but she was hungry and anxious not to upset Sally, so she

murmured something acquiescent and stared at the pattern in the damask

cloth until the first course arrived.

Jason appeared to ignore her silence, tinning instead to Sally with talk on

topics to do with their work in television. In spite of herself Catriona began

to watch him covertly as they ate. He was wearing a blue denim shirt with

the sleeves rolled casually back to reveal tanned forearms. A broad leather

belt fastened his matching hipster pants. He was far more casually dressed

than any other man in the room, and, she was forced to admit to herself, by

far the most attractive too.

Just then Sally bent to get a handkerchief from her bag, and Jason, lounging

in his chair, tinned to Catriona. Their eyes met for one challenging instant,

and she felt that odd shiver of awareness curl down her backbone. Although

she had been forced into a situation of unexpected intimacy with him, he

was still very much an unknown quantity, she realised. She could not

believe that firm, rather thin-lipped mouth had touched hers, even in

pretence. There was something completely inimical between them, she

thought. They had disliked each other on sight, although she had been

forced to be grateful to him in a number of ways since. But that did not

mean she had to like him any the better, she told herself.

'And what have you been doing with yourself?' he asked casually, and she

flushed, unwilling to tell him about her sightseeing expeditions.

Sally supplied the answer. 'Oh, Catriona's the complete tourist. I don't know

how many pairs of shoes she's worn out tramping from Nelson's Column

down to Buckingham Palace and back. But she starts work on Monday, so

it'll be weekends only from now on, I'm afraid.'

'Gather ye rosebuds while ye may,' he quoted mockingly. 'Lucky girl, Miss

Muir, to be visiting London for the first time. We tend to forget how

exciting it can be. Are you fond of excitement?' The grey eyes held hers

with a kind of veiled insolence.

'If it's the right sort of excitement—yes,' Catriona answered quietly.

'Ah.' He pushed his empty plate away and studied her face. 'But what is the

right sort? Mightn't you have to sample the wrong sort as well before you

can find out?'

His eyes travelled over her again, and she experienced once more that

curious urge to shield herself with her hands.

Sally broke in impatiently, 'Well, I hope you both know what you're talking

about, because I'm blowed if I do. Ask the waitress to bring the trolley,

Jason. I'm going to have a meringue, and to hell with the wedding dress.'

Catriona was thankful to be spared Jason's undivided attention, and she

made a mental resolution to keep out of his way from now on. She found

him far too disturbing in a way she could not comprehend.

She was just finishing her slice of raspberry tart with whipped cream when

Moira Dane's voice exclaimed, 'Darling! So this is where you got to.'

She bent to kiss Jason's lean cheek.

'You're absolutely wicked,' she went on. 'I left all sorts of urgent messages

at Reception about lunch today.'

'A prior engagement.' Jason took her hand and laid its palm to his mouth.

'Anyway, I thought my attraction for you only began after the hours of

darkness.'

'Honestly!' Moira gave a little giggle like oozing honey. 'You'll shock poor

Helen.'

Up to then, Catriona had paid little heed to Moira's companion. She had

been too involved trying to sort out her own unexpectedly mixed feelings at

the interruption and Jason's attitude to the woman who bent so intimately

over him. It was not difficult to guess their relationship, she thought, What

had he said? That he didn't take sweets from babies. Well, Moira Dane was

certainly a very grown-up lady, and if Jason was availing himself of any

sweets that were going, it was certainly nothing to do with her.

But now, with a start, she recognised the fair-haired girl being introduced to

Sally. It was Jeremy's fiancee whom she had glimpsed so briefly but so

drastically at the party. For a moment panic welled up inside her, then she

felt Jason's eyes on her, bleak with warning.

'And this is Miss Catriona Muir,' Moira turned to her. 'A great friend of your

future in-laws—or some of them, at least.'

Catriona put down her coffee cup with a sick feeling. She realised

fatalistically that Helen must be the cousin that Moira had spoken of earlier,

and by the malicious look the two of them had just exchanged it seemed as if

Jeremy had been more than frank with his fiancee about his relationships

before his engagement.

'It's a small world,' Jason drawled into the awkward silence. He rose and

shook hands with Helen, who was peeping rather coyly at him through

heavily mascaraed lashes. 'I'm sorry we didn't meet the other evening,

Helen, but there were such crowds around you, I thought I'd save that

pleasure for a rather more private occasion.'

His slightly raised brows and the smile he gave her implied that he did not

consider the present occasion private enough either, and Helen gave him a

conscious smile.

'Jeremy did tell me about his wicked uncle. I see what he meant,' she said

archly, and Jason laughed.

Catriona suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to escape.

'I think we'd better be going--' she began, reaching for her bag. As she did so

her sleeve caught her half-filled cup and knocked it over, spilling the

contents on to the white cloth.

'Oh dear! What a mess,' Moira said lightly, as Catriona, hot with

embarrassment, pushed her chair back and stood up.

'Oh, love, it hasn't spoiled your clothes?' Sally said sympathetically, and

Catriona shook her head, trying to regain her composure.

'What a fuss about a little accident,' Jason commented sardonically. 'Run

away if you wish, Miss Muir, but they don't hang people for spilling coffee,

you know.' He seemed to take a positive delight in making her feel gauche,

she thought furiously, and turned on him with her green eyes flashing, but

before she could speak, he laughed easily and took her arm.

'Come on, darling. I'll show you the office where I get all my inspiration.

Sally has to go to Make-up now and you'll only be in the way. Isn't that right,

Sal? Goodbye, Helen. I look forward to having you as a niece. See you later,

Moira.'

And he walked away casually, his fingers tight as bands round Catriona's

wrist.

'Don't make a scene here,' he murmured. 'My room's soundproof, and you

can let off steam in there.' He paused to sign the bill the waitress brought

him, then continued a leisurely progress to the door, answering greetings

from other diners as he went.

As they waited for the lift outside the restaurant, he produced a pack of

American cigarettes from the pocket of his shirt and lit one. Catriona stood

massaging her wrist where the marks of his fingers clearly showed and

maintained a hostile silence.

'Remind me to type out a quote for you before you leave,' he remarked as the

lift began to descend. 'It's the one about tangled webs and deception.'

'You need not bother yourself. I know it already,' Catriona said stormily.

'Then you'll agree it's apt.' He allowed her to precede him out of the lift. 'My

office is down here on the left.'