Pacific Heat. Anne Mather

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Pacific Heat - Anne  Mather


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still can’t do it,’ she said, even though her mind was buzzing with what Kay had just said. As far as she’d known, Richard was Diane’s agent. That was the carrot she’d dangled in front of him all those years ago. As if her own undisputed beauty hadn’t been enough.

      ‘Why not?’

      Kay was irritated, and Olivia couldn’t really blame her. After all, the deal she was being offered was considerably more generous than anything she’d been offered thus far in her career. But then, her association with Kay was only three years old. Kay didn’t know why she and her ex-husband had separated. It wasn’t something she talked about these days, and when Richard had left her she’d still been working for the women’s magazine she’d joined when she first left college.

      ‘I just can’t,’ she insisted now, and, feeling slightly intimidated by Kay’s frustration, she went back to the desk. ‘You don’t understand,’ she added, pressing her hot palms down onto the cool wood. ‘I—I’ve met Diane Haran. Years ago. And I didn’t like her.’

      Kay groaned. ‘You don’t have to like her!’ she exclaimed, returning to her own side of the desk. ‘And it’s obvious she doesn’t remember you. Or if she does—and if she knew how you felt—she doesn’t hold any grudges. She wants you to write the story of how she became successful against all the odds. She’s not looking for a lifelong commitment. Just a few short weeks of your time.’

      Olivia licked her lips. The idea of flying out to California, of spending several weeks, or even months, with Diane Haran, was anathema to her. It wasn’t just that she disliked the woman. She hated her, she despised her. She blamed her totally for the break-up of her marriage. She and Richard had been happy together. Everyone had said they were the ideal couple. They’d known one another since their college days, and when Richard asked her to marry him she’d been in seventh heaven.

      She hadn’t been able to believe her luck, she remembered now, recalling how envious all her friends had been. Richard Haig had been the most attractive boy she’d ever seen, and one of the few people in her year who was actually taller than she was. At five feet ten, she’d always regarded her height as a drawback, but Richard had assured her he loved willowy women. The fact that she wasn’t beautiful or outstandingly clever hadn’t seemed to bother him either. For some reason, he had fallen in love with her, and she’d had no doubt that they’d live happily ever after...

      ‘I can’t do it,’ she said again, aware that Kay was watching her closely. ‘Kay, I’m flattered, but I’m sorry. This assignment just isn’t for me.’

      ‘You still haven’t given me a decent reason why not,’ retorted Kay, bumping down in her chair. ‘Dammit, Liv, this is a chance of a lifetime. I can’t let you throw it away.’

      Olivia hesitated, and then sank down in her chair again. ‘All right,’ she said. ‘I suppose I do owe you an explanation. I can’t work for Diane Haran because I—know—the man she’s married to—’

      ‘Richard Haig?’ Her ex-husband’s name tripped carelessly off Kay’s tongue, and Olivia made a concerted attempt not to show her surprise. ‘Hey, you don’t have to worry about that. From what I hear their marriage is on the rocks.’

      Olivia swallowed. ‘On the rocks?’

      ‘So I hear.’ Kay nodded. ‘I gather they’ve been having problems for some time. He drinks, you know. Or at least that’s the story. My guess is that some other man must have caught her eye.’

      Olivia stared at her. ‘I can’t believe it.’

      ‘Why not?’ Kay was dismissive. ‘You have to admit that this marriage has lasted longer than the other two she’s had. Who was the first? Oh, yes, Gordon Rogers. She only lived with him for a couple of months.’

      ‘I—I thought she’d only been married once—once before,’ murmured Olivia faintly, but the woman opposite shook her head.

      ‘No. Don’t you remember that actor Christian de Hanna? When she found out he was a needle-pusher, she threw him out.’

      Olivia felt dazed. ‘So—who is she seeing now?’ she asked, trying to sound as if she was only casually interested, and Kay lay back in her chair with a rueful sigh.

      ‘Search me,’ she said. ‘That’s the million-dollar question. But you can be sure that he’s got something your friend doesn’t have.’

      ‘My friend?’

      For a moment, Olivia was confused, and Kay gave her a searching look.

      ‘Richard Haig,’ she said irritably. ‘Our benefactor’s current husband If you want him, you can have him. Take my word for it.’

      Olivia’s lips parted. Was she so transparent? she wondered in dismay. With the little information she’d given Kay, had she exposed her feelings so clearly? ‘I don’t want him,’ she declared hastily, but the words didn’t sound convincing to her. The truth was, she did want him. She always had.

      ‘Well, that’s up to you,’ said Kay briskly, evidently deciding she’d said enough. ‘But I would seriously advise you not to turn this offer down. I don’t think you realise the impact it could have, not just on the public but on your career. And goodness knows, you’d be in a position to pick up any number of other commissions at the same time.’

      Olivia looked down at her hands, clasped together in her lap. She couldn’t do this, she told herself fiercely, however attractive Kay was making it sound. She couldn’t work with Diane Haran, not knowing what she’d done to Richard. And if Richard needed her he knew where to find her. It wasn’t up to her to go looking for him.

      But what if he was humiliated by what had happened? a small voice chided in her ear. What if he regretted the break-up of their marriage now, but was too ashamed of his own actions to approach her again? Richard had his pride, and their divorce had been rather acrimonious. He’d done his best to make her a scapegoat, and Olivia had been left feeling battered and bruised.

      Which was another reason why she should refuse this commission, the same small voice reminded her sharply. Did she really want to lay herself open to that kind of emotional abuse again? And she wouldn’t be working for Richard; she’d be working for Diane Haran. There was no guarantee that she’d even see him, if what Kay was saying was true. No matter how tempting it might be to imagine a reconciliation between them, she was thinking with her heart, not her head.

      Realising Kay was waiting for her to say something, she asked the question that had first sprung into her mind. ‘Why California?’ she enquired. ‘Doesn’t she live in England any more?’

      ‘I understand she has homes in both England and the United States,’ said Kay immediately. ‘Oh, and a villa in the South of France, as well. But as most of her films are made in America I suppose she finds it most convenient to live there.’

      Olivia’s mind boggled. She found it hard to conceive what it must be like to be so rich. Diane had probably found it hard, too, she acknowledged. At least, to begin with. A council flat in the East End of London was where she’d lived for the first fifteen years of her life.

      ‘You’d have to do some research here,’ Kay commented, almost as if Olivia had agreed to her request. ‘Her family have all moved away from Bermondsey, of course, thanks to Diane’s generosity. But I expect there’ll still be people there who remember her as a child. Schoolfriends, neigh-bours, and so on.’

      Olivia regarded the other woman wryly. ‘I do know how to go about researching a subject’s background,’ she remarked, wishing Kay would just let it go. But what she wished most of all was that Diane had never asked for her; had never ignited the spark of unwilling excitement that the thought of seeing Richard again could bring.

      Kay had straightened in her chair now, and was watching her closely, and Olivia felt the heat from her thoughts invading the pale hollows of her throat. ‘Does this mean you’re thinking of accepting the commission?’ Kay asked, leaning across her desk, and Olivia drew back from


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