PENNY JORDAN - Rules Of The Game

‘I am not Dracula you know, intent on stealing away your life blood, although I must admit when you look at me like that, like a frightened doe hearing the sounds of the hunter it does tempt me to …’ He was tending his head to her throat again, and she was completely powerless to stop him Vanessa thought wildly.

The sudden, shrill ring of the telephone arrested them both, and Vanessa made good use of his momentary relaxation to slip away from him. The phone was in the back part of the studio, in the small room that Gavin used as his office. It was a call from someone enquiring about wedding photographs and by the time she had dealt with it Vanessa had managed to convince herself that she had imagined that frightening pull on her senses, that surge of feeling so intense that for one moment she had been in danger of drowning under it.

Forcing herself to appear calm she walked back into the studio and then came to an abrupt halt. There was no sign of the model! She walked over to the screen and glanced behind it. His clothes had gone too. Frowning she walked back to her camera, and then noticed the note propped up on it. Just remembered I have to go somewhere—next time can I suggest I ‘pose’ somewhere more comfortable! Dark colour surged into her face. She couldn’t ignore the suspicion that he thought it had all been a game. Anger surged through her as she contemplated the implications of his note. What did he think she was? Some sort of … of sexual deviant who enjoyed photographing nude men! She was so angry that her hands were trembling. She paced the studio furiously, rehearsing what she was going to say to Gavin when he returned. If this was his idea of a joke! If he had deliberately set this whole thing up! She knew her brother disapproved of her single state and of her life-style. She was missing out on life he had told her, but if he thought he was doing her a favour by introducing her to some … some studio lothario …

She was still seething ten minutes later when she heard Gavin’s footsteps on the stairs, but the angry words tumbling on her lips were forgotten as he rushed in and she saw his harassed expression. ‘I’ve missed him then?’ he groaned, running irate fingers through his hair. ‘Dear God that’s all I need. How on earth am I going to persuade him to use us as the team’s official photographers after this débâcle? What did he say, Van? Was he very angry? It’s all the fault of that stupid girl at the town hall. She told me I had to be at the party, but according to his aide, he was coming here to meet me. He wanted me to do a shot of him for the local paper—you know they’re doing an article on him. I suppose he was furious when he got here. They say he doesn’t suffer fools gladly, and of course you wouldn’t know why he was here.’

A cold, horrible feeling of disquietude was beginning to seep through her. At least it had started as a seep, now it was a fully fledged mill race. ‘Gavin … who exactly are you talking about?’ she asked her brother.

He gave her a brief impatient frown. ‘Jay Courtland of course. I told you I was supposed to be meeting him today at the Welcome Party, but apparently the arrangements had been changed and they hadn’t let me know. He was to come here for me to do a formal picture of him for the paper.’

‘What’s he like, Jay Courtland?’ Vanessa asked him hollowly, Please God don’t let it be true, she was praying inwardly, but she knew her prayers weren’t going to be answered when Gavin said impatiently, ‘What do you mean what is he like? You must have seen photographs.’ When she shook her head, he went into his office and she heard him rifling through some papers. Within seconds he re-appeared proferring a magazine to her. It was one of the Sunday Supplements and Jay Courtland’s photograph occupied an entire page of glorious technicolor, right down to the amused amber eyes.

‘ That ’s Jay Courtland?’ She whispered it through stiff lips, still hardly able to comprehend.

‘That’s him, all right. Vanessa what’s the matter? Did he come here?’

‘He came, all right.’ Vanessa told him, trying to hold back the hysterical bubble of laughter fighting for release. Jay Courtland; the local hero made good. The man who could be so important to Gavin’s future, because Gavin hoped to impress him enough for Jay Courtland to use him on the national advertising campaign for his new sportswear acquisition. If Gavin got that contract he would be made, and it was well known that Jay Courtland intended to favour local industry, local firms. Only because it was good publicity Vanessa had said scornfully when Gavin had talked about it, and now …

‘Van, what the devil is going on? What did you say to him?’

‘Oh nothing much,’ Vanessa assured her brother with false blitheness, ‘I only asked him to strip off. So that I could take his photograph you know …’

For a moment Gavin simply stared at her, and then pulling himself together with a visible effort, he shook his head and muttered, ‘I don’t think I’m hearing this …’

‘I thought he was the model,’ Vanessa told him. ‘I …’

‘What happened? Why did he leave?’

‘He went while I was on the phone,’ Vanessa told him.

‘I hope to God he sees the funny side of this Van.’ Gavin looked very disturbed. ‘He can make or break us, you know that …’

‘I don’t suppose I’m the first woman to have asked him to take his clothes off,’ Vanessa interrupted sardonically, but in truth she was feeling far from as assured as she was trying to appear.

‘So that she could photograph him for a suncream ad?’ Gavin asked grimly. ‘I’d better phone his office—if they’re still speaking to me. What on earth made you think he was a model?’

She had been so tense, so nervous, so anxious to get the whole thing over that she hadn’t thought too deeply about it at all.

‘God, a fine impression of our professionalism and skill you must have given him,’ Gavin added, making her feel more guilty than ever. It had been bad enough when she had thought him a model, but now … her face burned when she remembered his outrageous comments; the warm, hard pressure of his mouth against her skin.

‘He thought I was Nadia,’ she told Gavin stupidly, shivering a little with reaction and shock. ‘So I wasn’t the only one to make a mistake.’

‘Did you tell him you weren’t?’ Gavin was moving towards the office.

‘No, there didn’t seem much point.’ If he had known that she wasn’t Nadia, Nadia who the whole world knew loved a lover, would he have been as familiar with her?

She heard Gavin asking to speak to him, and not wanting to listen to his conversation, closed the office door and went downstairs intending to slip out and do some shopping, praying as she did so, that Jay Courtland would not punish her brother for her mistake.

Her mistake. For a second rebellion flared to life inside her, he had hardly done anything to correct it, but then perhaps he was so used to people recognising him that he had expected her to do so as well. Arrogant, lordly creature, if it was not for the fact that he held Gavin’s future in the palm of his hand she would be tempted to wish that he would take offence. But Gavin could not afford to have such a powerful enemy. She remembered the way he had laughed at her when she tried to get him to pose, gritting her teeth as she re-lived the amusement glinting in his eyes. He had enjoyed being deliberately obtuse, she realised that now. If anyone should feel resentment it ought to be her, not him!