Anne Mather - Pale Orchid

Jason poured himself a scotch, despite the early hour, and after adding several cubes of ice, looked at her over the rim of the glass. ‘I have a fairly good idea,’ he conceded cynically, swallowing a generous mouthful. ‘I suppose you assume my agreeing to see you gives you the edge. Well—I shouldn’t bank on it, if I were you.’

Laura felt the colour pour into her cheeks at his scathing words, and it was all she could do to remain sitting. But standing would be equally as perilous, and she didn’t want him to see how nervous she really was.

‘I have no—preconceptions,’ she declared now, holding up her head and concentrating on the tasselled cord securing a fall of velvet curtain. The words stuck in her throat, but she had to say them: ‘I’m—grateful—you agreed to see me.’

Jason lowered his glass. ‘Did you think I wouldn’t?’ he inquired mockingly, and she bent her head to study the tightly clenched bones of her knees.

‘I thought it was possible,’ she agreed carefully. ‘As I said before, Logan didn’t seem to think …’

‘Phil Logan was only doing his job as he saw it. He knows we split up. I guess he got the wrong idea.’

Laura quivered, and when she lifted her eyes to his, the resentment she was feeling was mirrored in their depths. ‘You mean—he thought you got tired of me, don’t you?’ she demanded painfully. ‘Did you disabuse him?’

‘You’re here, aren’t you?’ remarked Jason flatly. ‘That should mean something, even to Logan.’

Laura absorbed his words with a troubled frown. ‘You’re—very generous,’ she murmured unwillingly. ‘I—don’t know what to say.’

‘I’m sure you’ll think of something,’ retorted Jason tersely, finishing the scotch in his glass. ‘I suggest you tell me what you’ve been doing since you left. I know; but I’d like to hear it in your words, just so we understand one another.’

Laura caught her breath. ‘What do you mean?’ she exclaimed, shaking her head. ‘You— know —what I’ve been doing?’

Jason sighed. ‘Must we go into this right now?’

‘Yes, I think we must.’

‘Okay.’ He set down his glass, and came to stand in front of her. ‘But first, I think I should sample the merchandise, don’t you? I mean, it has been three years, and I may have overestimated your appeal!’ And before she could move or even comprehend his meaning, he had circled her wrist with his fingers and jerked her to her feet.

The warm strength of his lean fingers on her nape, as he drew her unresistingly towards him, was the last coherent awareness Laura had before his lips descended on hers. Disbelief; resentment; panic ; all were briefly subdued by the hard pressure of his mouth, and her shaken disconcertment opened her lips to his tongue.

His free arm slid around her, drawing her closer into his embrace, and it was the sensuous abrasion of his shirt against her fingers that brought her a returning measure of sanity. But although she fought free of him without too much effort, his shocking behaviour had disturbed her, and she knew he had sensed her involuntary response.

‘How—how dare you?’ she got out, when her breathing had steadied, and she saw the wary gleam that entered his eyes at her words.

‘How dare I?’ he asked, echoing her question. ‘What did you expect? An apology?’ He shook his head. ‘I’m sorry. I don’t feel I have anything to apologise for.’

Laura blinked. ‘What are you talking about?’

Jason expelled his breath heavily. ‘Laura, let’s stop playing these games, shall we? You know why you’re here, and I know why you’re here. Okay—maybe I did precipitate matters a little, but you can’t deny you wanted it, just as much as I did.’

Laura gulped. ‘There’s some mistake …’

‘Is there?’

‘Yes.’ Her tongue circled her lips with increasing rapidity. ‘I … I don’t know what—kind of an advantage you think Pamela’s situation gives you, but—but so far as I am concerned …’

‘Wait a minute!’ Jason’s harsh voice broke into her stammered outburst, and she broke off at once, staring at him with troubled eyes. ‘Run that by me again,’ he said grimly. ‘ Who is Pamela?’

‘You know who Pamela is,’ she exclaimed. ‘Pamela Huyton. My sister Pamela. Don’t pretend you don’t know about her and Mike!’

Jason fell back a step, still regarding her with distinct incredulity. ‘Your sister Pamela?’ he repeated blankly. ‘What the hell would I know about your sister, for Christ’s sake? And Mike? Mike who?’

‘Mike Kazantis!’ declared Laura quickly, trembling a little as she struggled to take the initiative. ‘You know who Mike Kazantis is, don’t you? Or are you going to deny all knowledge of his identity, too?’

Jason’s mouth thinned. ‘Are you trying to tell me that your sister is in some way involved with Mike Kazantis?’ he inquired tautly, and Laura nodded.

‘But you know,’ she said bitterly. ‘You know you do. Else why did you agree to see me? Unless you thought you could gloat over our misfortunes!’

Jason’s dark features lost all expression, and the lines that bracketed his nose and mouth looked that much more pronounced. ‘Is that the opinion you have of me?’ he said sombrely. ‘Well, well! You really thought I would do a thing like that?’

Laura was not a little confused by now, and in spite of her determination not to let him get the better of her, his quiet words had more than an element of truth in them. But why—if he hadn’t known about his brother-in-law—why had he said he knew why she was here?

‘Wheth—whether you knew or not, you do now,’ she said, forcing herself to go on. ‘Pamela is in the hospital in San Francisco. She took an overdose of sleeping tablets. She’ll live, but I don’t know for how long.’

Jason’s nostrils flared, and with a curious inclination of his head, he moved away towards the bar. Then, swinging round, he poured himself a second glass of scotch, tipping his head back to drink it before turning again to face her.

‘It … it’s barely eleven o’clock,’ Laura exclaimed abruptly, unable to prevent the words from spilling from her lips. ‘Is it wise to—to drink so much?’

Jason’s lips twisted. ‘Not wise at all,’ he conceded sardonically. ‘But that’s my problem, not yours. So. Go on about your sister. Why don’t you think she’ll survive?’

‘Because she’s pregnant!’ Laura pressed the palms of her hands together. ‘And Kazantis has deserted her.’

‘Deserted her?’ Jason considered the phrase. ‘What an old-fashioned expression! You mean, I suppose, that as soon as he discovered your sister had a problem, he took off.’

Laura blinked. ‘He doesn’t know about the baby.’ She frowned. ‘At least, I think he doesn’t.’ It was something she had not thought to ask her sister.

‘I’d guess he does,’ retorted Jason drily. ‘If indeed it is Mike’s.’

‘What do you mean?’ Laura was indignant. ‘Pamela wouldn’t lie about something like that!’

‘And she says it’s his?’

‘Yes.’ Laura drew a trembling breath. ‘Do you know where he is?’

‘Kazantis? Right now?’ Jason shrugged. ‘I’d say—Europe.’

‘Europe!’ Laura blanched. ‘Where in Europe?’

‘Italy.’ Jason dropped his empty glass back on to the bar. ‘At least that’s where Irene is, so …’

‘Italy!’ Laura’s shoulders sagged. ‘Oh, God! Why did he have to be there?’

‘I’m not saying I know it for a fact,’ said Jason evenly. ‘But, like I said, Irene is there right now, visiting my grandparents. And, knowing my father’s ideas about his women, I’d say he’d insist she didn’t go unescorted.’