CHAPTER TWO

      THE telephone calls persisted over the next three days, every couple of hours or so, and each time Nick asked her to go out with him. When she switched her answering machine on permanently so as to avoid talking to him the flowers started to arrive, dozens and dozens of them. She sent them straight to a local hospital, telling the florist to tell Mr Andracas what she had done with them. No more flowers arrived. She was waiting for his next move now. She was not expecting it to be quite the one he did make, although she had a feeling he could be unpredictable. He was standing on the doorstep with Audra McDonald when she opened the door Saturday afternoon!

      ‘Don’t worry, Miss Smith,’ he drawled at her suddenly wary look. ‘I’m not staying. I only came to discuss a few details with you that we overlooked the other day.’

      She could imagine what ‘details’ they were, although with Audra McDonald listening to their every word she could hardly refuse to let him in. Much as she would like to! Mocking grey eyes seemed to know exactly how she felt, her voice waspish as she invited the couple inside.

      ‘If you would just like to go somewhere and change, Audra,’ Nick suggested smoothly. ‘I just want to talk to Miss Smith for a few minutes.’

      ‘I can change once you’ve gone,’ she actress dismissed.

      ‘It would save time if you do it now,’ he arched dark brows in challenge.

      With a dark flash of resentment she turned to Danielle with furious eyes. ‘Do you have somewhere I might change?’

      She frowned at the request. ‘What you’re wearing is perfectly suitable—–’

      ‘I have to be wearing a gown from the play,’ the other woman snapped her impatience.

      ‘Oh.’ She hadn’t realised that. ‘Well, there’s my studio. Or my bedroom,’ she added with a certain amount of reluctance.

      Audra chose the bedroom, as Danielle had known she would, leaving her alone in there while she came back to face Nick Andracas.

      ‘You wanted to talk to me?’ she looked up at him with cool enquiry as he seemed in no hurry to speak, merely staring at her with open interest.

      His mouth twisted, his hands thrust into the pockets of his black fitted trousers, his shirt the same steel grey as his eyes. ‘I’ve been trying to talk to you all week, you know that.’

      ‘I thought this conversation was going to be business, Mr Andracas,’ she turned away.

      ‘It is,’ he bit out. ‘Vaughn tells me you’ve remained adamant about your fee?’

      She stiffened. ‘That’s right.’

      He eyed her curiously. ‘I’ve never known anyone turn down money before.’

      ‘Really?’ she bit out between taut lips, knowing her own behaviour in the past had added to his disillusionment.

      ‘Really,’ he nodded.

      ‘Then this must be a pleasant change for you, mustn’t it,’ her voice was brittle.

      ‘It might be if I understood the reason for it.’

      Her eyes darkened to the colour of emeralds. ‘I know my worth, Mr Andracas, and I won’t take a penny more than that.’

      ‘Not even if it’s offered to you?’ he seemed puzzled by her vehemence.

      ‘No,’ she snapped. ‘Money isn’t everything, Mr Andracas, I’m surprised you haven’t learnt that yet.’

      ‘Yet?’ his eyes narrowed with suspicion.

      She shrugged, realising her slip in her anger. ‘You’ve been wealthy all your life, it doesn’t seem to have brought you much happiness,’ she dismissed.

      ‘How do you know that?’ he rasped.

      ‘I read the newspapers, Mr Andracas,’ she told him coolly. ‘You’re often mentioned.’

      ‘And what have you learnt about me from them?’ he queried softly, too softly.

      ‘That you’ve had one broken marriage and don’t seem to ever want to contemplate another one.’

      ‘You consider marriage the only happiness in life?’ he arched dark brows. ‘In that case, why haven’t you married?’ he said with barely concealed sarcasm, evidence of how her remarks had caught him on the raw, the subject of his previous marriage obviously not something he liked to talk about.

      She turned away. ‘The man I loved didn’t ask me,’ she replied woodenly.

      ‘Your dining companion of the other evening?’ he rasped.

      ‘No,’ she bit out, the evening spent with her parents at their home as pleasant as usual.

      ‘Then I have a ghost from your past to contend with as well as your present lover,’ he realised dryly.

      ‘No ghost, Mr Andracas,’ she assured him waspishly. ‘I got over the stupidity of that love a long time ago, a very long time ago,’ she repeated forcefully. ‘And there’s no lover now either, only friends.’

      He frowned darkly. ‘Then why do you persistently refuse my invitations?’

      ‘You already have one mistress, Mr Andracas,’ she reminded with contempt. ‘Can’t you be satisfied with her? She certainly seems satisfied with you,’ she mocked.

      His hands clenched at his sides. ‘I want you, damn it,’ he rasped fiercely.

      ‘I’m sorry.’

      ‘Are you?’ he swung her round as she would have turned away from him, his gaze raking mercilessly over her emotionless face. ‘I don’t think you’re sorry at all.’

      ‘Probably not,’ she shrugged.

      His face twisted with fury, giving him an almost satanic look. ‘What do you want from me?’

      She met his gaze coldly. ‘I’m not for sale, if that’s what you mean.’

      ‘Everyone has their price!’

      ‘Do you?’

      He looked taken aback for a moment, then he dropped her arm to turn away. ‘No,’ he answered abruptly. ‘But women are different,’ he added insultingly.

      ‘Are they?’ she still remained calm, although inside she was burning with indignation. ‘Then I would say you’ve been associating with the wrong type of woman—or the right sort, depending which way you look at it.’

      ‘I could ruin you and your career with a few choice words in the right direction!’

      Danielle shrugged, immune to any threats he might make. ‘What you’re talking about is blackmail, Mr Andracas,’ she pointed out softly. ‘And that isn’t a price. You were talking about greed just now, not survival.’

      ‘Are you always this damned logical?’ he rasped impatiently.

      ‘I’m just myself, Mr Andracas. And thankfully women now have a choice in this world, we don’t have to be treated like possessions or second-class citizens any more.’

      ‘In other words, you’re an independent lady and intend to stay that way,’ he drawled.

      ‘As I said,’ she gave a cool inclination of her head. ‘I’m just me.’

      He sighed his chagrin. ‘And what am I supposed to do about the