rehearsing for a role she would never be called on to play.
She turned away from the mirror, moving towards the bed, then stopped suddenly. The confusion within her was fading, leaving a terrible aching clarity in its place. Why—now of all times—did she feel like this?
But she knew why. She thought of Bianca alone with Liam Brant and the inner pain gripped her again like a clenched fist.
She said aloud, 'No,' and again, 'Oh, no!' She must be going crazy. She'd been attracted before to men—of course she had. But instinct told her that what she felt now went deeper by far than mere attraction. She was experiencing desire for the first time in her life. Desire for a man whose sole interest in her had been as a stepping stone by which he might reach Bianca. A man whom Bianca had already marked down as her own.
Alix sank down on the edge of the bed with a little groan. As the shadows seemed to close in around her, she thought, 'What am I going to
do
?'
She hadn't slept, but her Greek tan, coupled with the careful application of make-up, disguised the telltale marks. Now as she made her way along the corridor to Bianca's room, she was mentally rehearsing what she had to say.
She had dressed to give herself courage in some of her holiday gear, a short-sleeved, scoop-necked green top, and a matching button-through skirt. She had brushed her dark hair back from her face, but left it loose.
Bianca's sitting room and bedroom were both deserted, as they usually were at that time of the morning. Alix walked across the bedroom to the door in the corner, half hidden by a looped curtain of rose silk.
The room beyond was where Bianca got down to the real business of making herself ready for the day ahead. It had once been an ordinary dressing room, but imagination and unlimited resources had transformed it into something between a gymnasium and a beauty parlour. There was a sauna with an adjacent shower cubicle tiled in aquamarine, while an archway led into a bathroom with a circular sunken bath in the middle. There were exercise machines, and a multitude of beauty aids lined up on the wall-length vanitory unit, topped by carefully lit mirrors.
In the middle of all this was a high couch, and here Bianca lay discreetly covered by towels while Monty in a crisp white overall gave her her morning massage.
She looked up at Alix and smiled lazily. 'Good morning, sweetie.' Then as her eyes fell on the single envelope in Alix's hand. 'My God, surely that isn't all the mail?'
'I haven't been down to the office yet,' Alix retraced.
'I see.' The smile faded as Bianca studied her for a moment, her eyes taking in the casual clothes, the smooth tan of her bare legs. 'You seem to have decided to carry on with your holiday for a few days.'
'You could say that,' Alix said calmly. 'Actually I'm here to hand in my notice. I'd like to leave as soon as possible.'
There was an electric silence. Monty's busy hands stopped suddenly and Bianca levered herself upwards, staring at Alix increduously.
'This is far too early in the morning for jokes, Alix. What's the matter with you?'
'I'm not joking.' Alix placed the envelope down on the vanitory unit. 'I've put it in writing.'
'I don't care whether you've put it in Cyrillic script,' Bianca snapped. Her face was flushed. 'Don't be such a fool! You can't possibly want to leave. You've no reason—no reason at all.'
Alix looked at her steadily. 'None?'
Bianca had the grace to look faintly guilty. 'Are you upset about last night? You've no need to be. I had to say what I did. I thought you'd understand.'
'
You've always understood before
,' hovered unspoken in the air between them. And so she had. Part of her job had been to allow herself to be used in whatever ploy Bianca was engaged in. But she wasn't the same person any more.
She shrugged. 'It's only partly that. The fact is I can't come to terms with the fact that you've changed your mind over the book again. I think it's a bad move on your
She turned away from the mirror, moving towards the bed, then stopped suddenly. The confusion within her was fading, leaving a terrible aching clarity in its place. Why—now of all times—did she feel like this?
But she knew why. She thought of Bianca alone with Liam Brant and the inner pain gripped her again like a clenched fist.
She said aloud, 'No,' and again, 'Oh, no!' She must be going crazy. She'd been attracted before to men—of course she had. But instinct told her that what she felt now went deeper by far than mere attraction. She was experiencing desire for the first time in her life. Desire for a man whose sole interest in her had been as a stepping stone by which he might reach Bianca. A man whom Bianca had already marked down as her own.
Alix sank down on the edge of the bed with a little groan. As the shadows seemed to close in around her, she thought, 'What am I going to
do
?'
She hadn't slept, but her Greek tan, coupled with the careful application of make-up, disguised the telltale marks. Now as she made her way along the corridor to Bianca's room, she was mentally rehearsing what she had to say.
She had dressed to give herself courage in some of her holiday gear, a short-sleeved, scoop-necked green top, and a matching button-through skirt. She had brushed her dark hair back from her face, but left it loose.
Bianca's sitting room and bedroom were both deserted, as they usually were at that time of the morning. Alix walked across the bedroom to the door in the corner, half hidden by a looped curtain of rose silk.
The room beyond was where Bianca got down to the real business of making herself ready for the day ahead. It had once been an ordinary dressing room, but imagination and unlimited resources had transformed it into something between a gymnasium and a beauty parlour. There was a sauna with an adjacent shower cubicle tiled in aquamarine, while an archway led into a bathroom with a circular sunken bath in the middle. There were exercise machines, and a multitude of beauty aids lined up on the wall-length vanitory unit, topped by carefully lit mirrors.
In the middle of all this was a high couch, and here Bianca lay discreetly covered by towels while Monty in a crisp white overall gave her her morning massage.
She looked up at Alix and smiled lazily. 'Good morning, sweetie.' Then as her eyes fell on the single envelope in Alix's hand. 'My God, surely that isn't all the mail?'
'I haven't been down to the office yet,' Alix retraced.
'I see.' The smile faded as Bianca studied her for a moment, her eyes taking in the casual clothes, the smooth tan of her bare legs. 'You seem to have decided to carry on with your holiday for a few days.'
'You could say that,' Alix said calmly. 'Actually I'm here to hand in my notice. I'd like to leave as soon as possible.'
There was an electric silence. Monty's busy hands stopped suddenly and Bianca levered herself upwards, staring at Alix increduously.
'This is far too early in the morning for jokes, Alix. What's the matter with you?'
'I'm not joking.' Alix placed the envelope down on the vanitory unit. 'I've put it in writing.'
'I don't care whether you've put it in Cyrillic script,' Bianca snapped. Her face was flushed. 'Don't be such a fool! You can't possibly want to leave. You've no reason—no reason at all.'
Alix looked at her steadily. 'None?'
Bianca had the grace to look faintly guilty. 'Are you upset about last night? You've no need to be. I had to say what I did. I thought you'd understand.'
'
You've always understood before
,' hovered unspoken in the air between them. And so she had. Part of her job had been to allow herself to be used in whatever ploy Bianca was engaged in. But she wasn't the same person any more.
She shrugged. 'It's only partly that. The fact is I can't come to terms with the fact that you've changed your mind over the book again. I think it's a bad move on your
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