interesting.…”
“I’m sure it is, dear,” Charlotte said, sounding bored, “but a great many people have no taste for history, you know.”
“It’s so dull,” Delle added, clinging to Cameron’s sleeve. “I’d rather talk about polo. Cam, are you coming down for the match next week?”
He shook his head. “I’ve got too much to do. There’s a board meeting on a new budget.”
“You never stop working,” Delle complained. “Work, work, work. Why don’t you come out from behind that desk and into the world? You used to play polo, I remember watching you.”
“You’d have been in pigtails back then, I imagine?” Merlyn asked with a smile, noting with wicked pleasure the anger on Charlotte Radner’s patrician features.
“Delle is quite mature for her age,” Charlotte said coolly, curtly motioning her daughter to silence when she started to reply. “And has exquisite taste in clothes.”
Merlyn spread her poncho. “And my lack of it shows?” she challenged.
Charlotte’s manner wouldn’t let her enter into an insult match. “My dear, I meant no offense,” she said formally.
“Of course not. You wouldn’t be so ill-mannered as to point out the obvious difference between your daughter’s clothing budget and my own,” Merlyn said.
Mrs. Radner gave her a hard glare, and Cameron’s dark eyes began to glitter.
“Weren’t you just leaving, Miss Forrest?” he asked, emphasizing every cold word.
“Why, yes, I was,” Merlyn agreed with a grin. She tossed her dark hair like a young filly about to bolt, and her green eyes glanced off his flirtatiously. “See you.”
He was openly glaring now, and Delle was giving him funny looks. She moved closer, holding on to his arm as if he might be keeping the house from sinking.
“Have a good time, Merlyn,” Lila called after her.
“I’ll try to be in by two or three at the latest,” Merlyn replied mischievously, with a glance toward Cameron, who’d already told her to be in by midnight. He started to say something, but before he could, Merlyn was out the door with a cheery, “Good night!”
It was a relief to breathe fresh air again. Delle was just a child, obviously infatuated with Cameron. But her mother was something else, and she held the reins on her daughter. It looked to Merlyn as if Cameron was slowly digging his own grave.
But she didn’t feel the least bit sorry for him. He was cold and domineering and obviously deserved every damned thing he would get. She didn’t like him. He was all the things she resented in a man. Just the thought of him made her bristle.
She walked around Lakeshore Mall for a couple of hours, haunted the B. Dalton store there, sighed over the latest computers at Radio Shack, and had supper in a charming little restaurant with hanging foliage and an uptown menu. Then she drove to the Holiday Inn, checked in, and spent the night watching movies on cable TV.
***
It was nine o’clock the next morning when she drove her little red Volkswagen into Lila’s driveway and parked it beside Cameron’s elegant black Lincoln. She glared at the larger vehicle. Black. It figured. He didn’t have the personality for flashy red sports cars.
She dragged herself out of the car, still wearing the clothes she’d worn the day before (she’d slept in her underwear) and went into the house.
Lila glanced up as she entered the dining room, smiling with something like relief. “Good morning, dear, have you eaten?”
“Not yet,” Merlyn replied, with a general smile for the rest of the people at the table. Apparently Amanda was sleeping late again, but Cameron’s guests were there, as elegant in pantsuits as they had been in dresses the night before. They looked as disapproving as Cameron did.
“What a lovely time I had,” Merlyn sighed. She sat down beside Lila and smiled at Tilly, who poured her a cup of black coffee and pushed the platter with the buttered toast within her reach. “I hope you didn’t
“I’m sure it is, dear,” Charlotte said, sounding bored, “but a great many people have no taste for history, you know.”
“It’s so dull,” Delle added, clinging to Cameron’s sleeve. “I’d rather talk about polo. Cam, are you coming down for the match next week?”
He shook his head. “I’ve got too much to do. There’s a board meeting on a new budget.”
“You never stop working,” Delle complained. “Work, work, work. Why don’t you come out from behind that desk and into the world? You used to play polo, I remember watching you.”
“You’d have been in pigtails back then, I imagine?” Merlyn asked with a smile, noting with wicked pleasure the anger on Charlotte Radner’s patrician features.
“Delle is quite mature for her age,” Charlotte said coolly, curtly motioning her daughter to silence when she started to reply. “And has exquisite taste in clothes.”
Merlyn spread her poncho. “And my lack of it shows?” she challenged.
Charlotte’s manner wouldn’t let her enter into an insult match. “My dear, I meant no offense,” she said formally.
“Of course not. You wouldn’t be so ill-mannered as to point out the obvious difference between your daughter’s clothing budget and my own,” Merlyn said.
Mrs. Radner gave her a hard glare, and Cameron’s dark eyes began to glitter.
“Weren’t you just leaving, Miss Forrest?” he asked, emphasizing every cold word.
“Why, yes, I was,” Merlyn agreed with a grin. She tossed her dark hair like a young filly about to bolt, and her green eyes glanced off his flirtatiously. “See you.”
He was openly glaring now, and Delle was giving him funny looks. She moved closer, holding on to his arm as if he might be keeping the house from sinking.
“Have a good time, Merlyn,” Lila called after her.
“I’ll try to be in by two or three at the latest,” Merlyn replied mischievously, with a glance toward Cameron, who’d already told her to be in by midnight. He started to say something, but before he could, Merlyn was out the door with a cheery, “Good night!”
It was a relief to breathe fresh air again. Delle was just a child, obviously infatuated with Cameron. But her mother was something else, and she held the reins on her daughter. It looked to Merlyn as if Cameron was slowly digging his own grave.
But she didn’t feel the least bit sorry for him. He was cold and domineering and obviously deserved every damned thing he would get. She didn’t like him. He was all the things she resented in a man. Just the thought of him made her bristle.
She walked around Lakeshore Mall for a couple of hours, haunted the B. Dalton store there, sighed over the latest computers at Radio Shack, and had supper in a charming little restaurant with hanging foliage and an uptown menu. Then she drove to the Holiday Inn, checked in, and spent the night watching movies on cable TV.
***
It was nine o’clock the next morning when she drove her little red Volkswagen into Lila’s driveway and parked it beside Cameron’s elegant black Lincoln. She glared at the larger vehicle. Black. It figured. He didn’t have the personality for flashy red sports cars.
She dragged herself out of the car, still wearing the clothes she’d worn the day before (she’d slept in her underwear) and went into the house.
Lila glanced up as she entered the dining room, smiling with something like relief. “Good morning, dear, have you eaten?”
“Not yet,” Merlyn replied, with a general smile for the rest of the people at the table. Apparently Amanda was sleeping late again, but Cameron’s guests were there, as elegant in pantsuits as they had been in dresses the night before. They looked as disapproving as Cameron did.
“What a lovely time I had,” Merlyn sighed. She sat down beside Lila and smiled at Tilly, who poured her a cup of black coffee and pushed the platter with the buttered toast within her reach. “I hope you didn’t
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