Flawless. Sara Craven
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She’d made him notice her, but was it—would it be enough?
It means so much, she thought. It has to be enough. Has to.
‘My goodness!’ Gina’s eyes were widening. ‘Do you see who’s here—who’s actually arrived? How long do you think he’s been standing there?’ She took a breath. ‘I’m going over to say hello. Introduce myself. Coming with me?’
Carly shook her head. ‘I’ll catch up with you later, Gina. I—I need some air.’
It wasn’t an excuse. The force of her emotions was making her feel dizzy. She slipped out on to the balcony, and stood leaning on the stone balustrade looking down into the garden. Lamps had been lit now among the tall shrubs, and the scent of the roses was warm and strong in the evening air. Above the bulk of the hotel building, a crescent moon hung like a slash of gold in the sapphire sky.
Carly looked up at the moon, and inclined her head to it, as the old superstition dictated.
‘Oh, moon,’ she whispered silently. ‘I wish—oh, how I wish …’
‘Good evening.’ The sound of his voice from the doorway behind her made Carly start violently. She spun to face him, the fragile wine-glass falling from her hand to shatter on the tiles at her feet.
‘Are you all right?’ Two long strides brought him to her side. ‘You haven’t cut yourself?’
‘No,’ she forced from her taut throat. ‘I—it’s just some champagne on my dress.’
‘Damnation.’ He produced an immaculate handkerchief. ‘Let me see …’
She took a step backwards. ‘I can manage—really.’
He’d followed her, and that was incredible. But it was also too soon. He’d caught her off guard. She wasn’t ready for this confrontation—and she certainly wasn’t ready to be touched by him.
‘Just as you wish.’ He sounded faintly surprised, but he passed her the handkerchief, and she dabbed at her dress, her hands shaking, sharply aware that he was watching her.
He said abruptly, ‘You’re very nervous.’
‘What do you expect? You—startled me.’
‘I shouldn’t have sneaked up on you like that.’ Saul Kingsland’s smile contained both repentance and charm. He paused. ‘But then, you knew I’d follow you—didn’t you? Isn’t that exactly what you intended?’
He certainly believed in the direct approach, Carly thought, rallying her defences.
‘You’re a free agent, Mr Kingsland.’
He shook his head. ‘Not tonight. I’m here to do a job—fulfil an obligation. I have to find a face—a body around which an entire advertising campaign can pivot. Frankly, I thought it was impossible—a gimmick foisted on me by Septimus Creed. How could I choose anyone when I didn’t know what I was looking for—what special qualities I needed?’ He broke off, the cool eyes skimming over her, missing nothing.
Carly found the intensity of his scrutiny and the continuing silence unnerving. She broke it deliberately, moving backwards, resting an elbow on the balustrade. ‘And do you know now?’
He said slowly, ‘Yes, I think I do. It’s totally incredible.’
His gaze went down the curve of her body as she lounged against the stonework, lingering on breast and thigh. It was as if he’d put out a hand and touched her intimately, and she was hard put to it not to flinch.
She thought, I don’t know if I can go through with this. But I must …
She laughed. ‘Is this your usual line, Mr Kingsland? “Put yourself in my hands, little girl, and I’ll make you famous”?’ She pulled a face. ‘A little tacky, don’t you think?’
‘Yes—if it were true.’ He sounded impatient. ‘But I assure you I’m not just shooting a line. I should know your name. Why don’t I? Who’s your agent?’
‘My name is Carly North,’ she said. ‘My agent is Clive Monroe, and if you’re not careful, I shall begin to think you mean this.’
‘Believe it,’ he said shortly. His brows drew together in a frown. ‘Or is there some problem?’
She shrugged. ‘Perhaps I’m not sure I want to be the Flawless Girl.’
‘Then what are you doing here?’
‘Natural curiosity. Normally I avoid this kind of situation like the plague.’
‘Then we have something in common at least.’ He gave her a long, speculative look. ‘So, I have to persuade you, do I?’
‘Not easy,’ she said, lightly. ‘I have a mind of my own, and my career is going well. Ask Clive.’
‘I intend to. But that doesn’t let you off the hook.’ He paused. ‘I have to stay at this thing for a while, but will you have dinner with me when it’s over?’
‘With my agent?’
‘If necessary.’
‘He’s a family man. He might not be able to make it.’
‘All the better.’
‘You don’t waste any time.’
‘Why should I? The deadlines have been drawn—quite apart from any personal considerations.’
Carly’s brows lifted. ‘You seem to be living up to your reputation.’
‘I don’t have a reputation,’ he said. ‘These days, I’m a stranger in town.’
‘Hardly,’ she said. ‘There can’t be a person in the country who hasn’t heard of you.’
‘Professionally, maybe. On other levels, they know nothing, and nor do you. So, ignore rumour and hearsay. Use your own instincts—your own judgement about me, Carly North.’
‘Perhaps my instincts are warning me to run.’
‘Then they’re playing you false,’ he said slowly. ‘Besides, if that were true, why did you want me to notice you so badly just now?’
‘Is that what I did?’ Alarm tingled on her skin.
‘You know it is. And if it wasn’t for strictly professional reasons, then it must have had a personal basis.’
She said coolly, ‘That’s a rather arrogant assumption.’
Saul Kingsland shrugged. ‘Then that could be something else we have in common.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Isn’t it a form of arrogance to come here tonight, looking as you do, when you don’t really want the Flawless job?’
‘I didn’t say that,’ she said quickly. ‘I said I wasn’t sure.’
‘So, I’m asking again, will you have dinner with me later, and let me convince you?’
She felt as if she was being swept along, caught in a current she couldn’t control. A voice in her head was screaming at her to refuse, warning her frantically that this was all too much, too soon.
She said, ‘Very well.’ She shot him a veiled look. ‘But I’m promising nothing.’
‘Professionally?’ Saul Kingsland asked silkily. ‘Or personally?’
‘Both.’
‘Fine,’ he said equably. ‘Then we know where we stand.’ He smiled at her. ‘And now I’d better justify my presence here—mix a little—talk to some people.’ He paused. ‘Don’t run away.’
‘I gave that up,’ she said, ‘a long time ago.’
She watched him walk