And then she blacked out.
CHAPTER 3
He was bending over her, his head slightly turned as he calmly ordered everyone to move back, give her some room.
Then his eyes fell on her again.
They were blue. Navy. The closest thing to black shed ever seen that still carried the touch of a hue. And she wasnt in pain anymore. Not in physical pain.
But she was in mental agony. Total humiliation.
What in Gods name had seized her?
She had been kept from falling by someone and transported to the Victorian sofa that sat just inside the main entry to the pub. Connie was on one side of her, Joe on the other. Her new friend Tip, the cop, was hovering somewhere nearby; she could hear him talking. But it was Robert Marston who was right in front of her, barking out orders, touching her forehead and her throatchecking for a pulse, she assumed.
She wished she could crawl under the couch.
She sat up, an act easier planned than managed. Marston was so close that she crashed right into him, forehead to forehead. He smiled as their heads cracked, while she paled all over again.
I knew I wasnt exactly welcomed by everyone in the company, but I never thought I could cause fainting spells, he joked.
She shook her head quickly. You had nothing to do with it. I didnt even know who you were. I
Are you all right? he enquired more seriously.
IIof course, she stammered.
Then she was aware of Connies gaze. Jillian, are you sure? My God, you were white as a ghost. We were so worried.
ImIm fine, she protested. Thanks, really. Im just embarrassed and
Maybe we should get you to the hospital, get you checked out, Marston suggested, interrupting her with a note of authority.
She stared at him, wishing she could crawl away.
What in the world had caused this?
She hadnt felt threatened by his hiring, had she? Wary, but not threatened. She hadnt really talked to him yet, because there hadnt really been the opportunity. A simple, normal opportunity. But she hadnt been worried about it. She was in design, he wasnt. In all honesty, she wasnt sure why Douglas had suddenly brought him in, but she had neither felt threatened nor overly impressed.
But at this particular moment, he seemed extremely imposing. The man was very tall, even down on one knee the way he was now. His shoulders were broad, though he seemed as sleek and agile as a man more slimly built.
A hospital couldnt hurt, other than the hours youre likely to spend in the emergency room, he told her.
She realized that she hadnt responded to his earlier comment; she had just been staring at him. No, I dont want to go to the hospital. Really, Im fine, she protested. Please, I just She broke off, aware that a sea of faces seemed to be looking on.
In the distance, she even saw the face of the tarot reader. The woman was watching her gravely, as if she werent at all surprised by this turn of events.
For some reason the sight of the woman was disturbing. Jillian felt uneasy again, as if something was wrong but she just couldnt put her finger on it. It was as if the tarot card reader knew something she didnt.
Something that she should know.
The woman turned away, and Jillians uneasiness dissipated. She felt simply and completely like an idiot.
What? Marston asked quietly, seeming to sense her unease.
I just need to get out of here, she said. Her voice was soft. Raspy. I could really go for some air.
A second later, she regretted her words, as Marston lifted her into his arms, striding from the pub. Excuse us, the lady needs air.
She wasnt white anymore. Her cheeks were flushed with mortification.
Outside, she found herself seated on the hood of a silver sports car. She heard Connies heels hitting the pavement as she and Joe hurried out to join them, followed by Tip, still in his Carmen Miranda getup.
Is that better? Those uncannily dark blue eyes were on hers.
And her hands were on his arms, she realized; she had gripped him to steady herself. She snatched her hands back and grasped for some dignity. Look, Mr. Marston, I appreciate your concern, but Im fine now. I just
Had too much to drink? he suggested.
She straightened in indignation. I never have too much to drink.
No? A spark of humor touched his eyes.
I dont believe your job description includes anything about picking me up from barroom floors, though I do appreciate the concern. However, I really am fine.
She does seem to be okay, Tip said.
Marston turned around, his eyes widening at the sight of the big cop in drag. Sorry, I didnt realize you two were together, he said briefly.
No, no, theyre not together, Joe said quickly, explaining. Tip is a friend of mine.
Jillian could have knocked him silly. She offered him a scathing glance, but he didnt notice.
I think I should get off this car before the owner sues for damages, she said, starting to move.
Give yourself another second.
His hands were on her shoulders. Long fingered, clean, neat, powerful. She glanced down at his touch and felt a strange, warm tremor. Barely remembered. Not welcomed now.
Im on someones Mercedes.
Its mine, he said.
Naturally. The Mercedes said everything there was to say about him. Smooth, cool. Sporty but mature. Handsome, powerful, sleek.
Maybe you should take Jillian home, Mr. Marston, Connie said, concerned. She looked from one to the other. We havent actually met, she said to him. Im Connie Murphy.
Joes wife. I know, Marston said. He smiled and took her hand, and his eyes met Joes. Your husband and I have already worked together.
Yes, of course. Connie looked flushed. It had been one thing for her to tease Jillian about company gossip, but now that she was actually meeting Robert Marston, she seemed a little awed herself. He did make an impression.
Was that why Douglas had brought him in? Connie wondered. She answered her own silent question quickly and defensively. No. Daniel, full of confidence, ability, authority and composure made quite an impression himself. Theo was equally presentable. Eileen was pure elegance and assurance. And Griff
Griff excelled at being Griff.
Office meeting over, Jillian murmured with false cheer. She tried to slide off the car, but Marston stopped her.
She looked at his hand, then met his eyes. I told you Im all right.
If you wont go to the hospital, at least let me take you home.
Im fine. Tip can see me home. He may look like Carmen Miranda, but in real life, hes one of New Yorks finest.
So youre a cop. Nice to meet you.
Ditto, Tip told him, as the two men shook hands.
Did you drive, Tip? Marston enquired, those dark eyes settling on the cop.
No, fraid not, Tip told Jillian apologetically.
I dont need a ride, Jillian protested.
Jillian, you passed out cold, Connie said.
Thanks, Connie, she murmured.
You might have hurt yourself.
But I didnt!
You were leaving, anyway, Marston reminded her. So let me take you home.
You just got here, so Im sure you dont want to leave. Go on in and have a good time.
And what would I tell Douglas in the morning? he asked, a half smile curving his lips.
That his granddaughter is pigheaded? Joe supplied.
Joe his wife said warningly.
I really dont think that watching me is part of the job, Jillian began.
I wouldnt want to bet on that, Joe said.
Okay, okay. Ill go home with Marston, she said, aggravated.
You can call me Robert, Bob, Rob, or even Bobby. Most of the time, when people call me Marston, they put a mister in front of it, he said, his tone conversational but with a slight edge, his dark eyes on her.
She eased off the car, meeting that gaze. Im so sorry, Mr. Marston.
He smiled. An honest smile. She looked away, biting her lip.
Night, then, Connie said.
Good night. Jillian hugged Connie, kissed Joe and then Tip on a cheek, and walked around to the passenger side of the car. He was already there, opening the door for her.
Call me, Connie mouthed.
She would call her, all right.
A moment later, they were in traffic.
He drove competently, assertively, but not recklessly. He was playing a Celtic CD; a woman was singing about a highwayman. Partiers filled the sidewalks, all laughing, some loaded, some simply happy. Taxis veered in and out; horns blared.
I live at she began.
I know where you live, he told her.
Fine.
A few minutes later, they pulled up to the house on Manhattans upper east side. It was one of the few old mansions that remained. Among a sea of skyscrapers, it stood three stories tall. A brick wall with wrought-iron gates separated it from its neighbors.
Here, away from the throngs, the streets were quiet. Marston didnt opt to enter the driveway but slid into an impossible spot on the street.
Before the engine had died, Jillian was reaching for the door handle.
Are you afraid of me? he asked her. She could hear his amusement.
No, of course not. Her fingers fell from the handle.
Do you resent my being hired?
He was blunt. No. Why should I?
Want to hear all the rumors? he queried.
She shook her head. No. Do you want to hear the truth?
Sure.
I like design. I enjoy what I do. I especially like jewelry, but make occasional forays into fashion, as well. I dont want my grandfathers kingdom. I dont even think my grandfather wants all his kingdom anymore. So why should I resent you being hired?
He smiled, looking not at her, but straight ahead at the road, at the night. Because in a kingdom, you always have to have a king. Or a queen.
Well, if we have a king, its Daniel. Are you planning to push him from the throne?
Ive been given shares in the company and a very satisfactory title. Part of the package when I came over. Daniel has his own role.
Then, we all ought to be just peachy-keen, she murmured. She looked at him. Thanks for the ride. Im sorry to have troubled you. She fumbled with the door. He reached over her and opened the door easily.
Thanks, she muttered.
I would feel better if I walked you in.
I wouldnt.
But you dont resent me? he queried lightly. He stepped out of the car as she did.
Okay, walk me in.
You did have quite a reaction to seeing me walk through the door tonight.
I wasnt reacting to you, she said, her heart pounding. What had she reacted to?
The pain. The pain had been unbearable, and the world had gone black.
Then? he pressed.
The tarot card reader, she said.
What?
There was a woman reading tarot cards. She started screaming, rolling her eyesand calling me a witch. She wouldnt stop. She was pretending to be in a trance or something, and we decided to get out. I just needed air, she said, finishing rather lamely.
I had nothing to do with it?
She met his gaze again, black in the shadows. She still feltwary of him. But curiously drawn, as well. She had to admit he was being polite, and he seemed to have a sense of humor.
She shook her head. No, she lied, then smiled. Honestly, I dont resent you. I think youve got great credentials, and I really dont want to run the company.
If thats a welcome, thanks, Ill take it.
Sure. Its a welcome. In fact, please come in, if youd like. Have a drink here, since you never got your chance at Hennesseys.
Despite the much-appreciated-but-debatable sincerity of that offer, Im afraid I have to refuse.
Ah, a date, she murmured, lashes flicking downward. She was definitely losing her mind. She hadnt wanted him to take her home, and had tried very hard to shake him. And now
She was disappointed. And curious.
Jealous? She wondered who he was meeting.
An appointment, he said lightly. Youre sure youre all right?
Ive never felt better. Honestly.
All right, then.
But he stood there, watching her.
Well?
I need to see you in.
Oh. She slid her computer key into the lock. The gate swung open; she stepped through, closing it behind her.
He nodded, then turned away, starting back toward his car.
Marsuh, Mr. Marston?
He turned back.
It was nice to meet you. And thanks for your concern.
Of course.
He walked to his car, and she watched him drive away. Though it was cold, the bars of the gate suddenly seemed to burn against her hands.
She released them quickly.
Strange, strange night.
Robert returned to Hennesseys.
Parking the car in the streeteasy enough, with most of the evenings revelers Halloween-ed out and headed homehe left the drivers seat and checked his watch.
Too late for his original appointment, but hed wanted to come back here, anyway.
Hed never seen anything like the way Jillian Llewellyn had looked at him. He hadnt expected to be welcomed into the company with pure joy and enthusiasm, but hed never imagined anything like what hed encountered.
She had looked at him withhatred? Horror?
Maybe pure blind terror. Or something else. He didnt know quite what. A combination of all those emotions.
He had felt shaken. For a moment a chill had settled over him, like something cold and horrible beyond words, and then
Then she had started to fall, and the feeling had slipped away, and now he couldnt even recall exactly what it had been. Maybe hed imagined it. And yet
At the bar, he ordered a beer. Theyd dyed the beer with food coloring. Black beer. Interesting.
As he sipped, he eased back and surveyed the room. Nearly midnight. The band was playing ballads. The bar was still full, but the customers at the tables were beginning to head out. When people moved, he saw the fortune-teller.
Tarot card reader. Whatever. It was all just fun and bull.
As he looked at her, she suddenly stared up at him. Her eyes were golden. Amber, glimmering. She was an arresting woman, metallic in color. Even her skin was copper. She was both stunning and disturbing.