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Authors: Marina Anderson

Tags: #Fiction, #Erotica

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BOOK: Dark Secret
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Harriet had the feeling that Rowena felt this was a great honour, but she found it hard to feel overwhelmed. It was after all only courtesy to say hello to someone who was going to type your letters and probably be a general dogsbody.

She followed Rowena into the room and immediately the man sitting in the chair opposite the door rose to his feet. He was tall, an inch or so over six feet, Harriet thought, and his hair was thick and jet black, swept off his face, accentuating the unusually strong bone structure with its high cheekbones and straight nose. Beneath dark and heavy brows his eyes were a deep brown, thickly lashed and intelligent-looking while his mouth was wide with a full lower lip. He held out a hand in greeting, and the leather strap of his watch stood out against his golden brown skin. Harriet remembered Ella mentioning mixed parentage – a Portuguese mother or something similar. It showed in his colouring, but although Harriet didn’t know it his height and breadth came from a Texan father. The combination was, as Ella had said, quite breathtaking.

‘Nice to meet you, Harriet,’ he said warmly, and his fingers closed around hers for a moment in a gesture that was almost a caress. Startled she raised her eyes to his and saw that he was watching her closely. She quickly withdrew her hand and without realising it took a step away from him. Lewis’s mouth curved in a smile.

‘Rowena and I hope you’ll be happy here,’ he continued smoothly. ‘I’m afraid life can be a bit
chaotic, but she tells me you’re tired of routine work so that shouldn’t worry you.’

‘It will certainly be different,’ responded Harriet, wishing that she wasn’t quite so aware of his physical presence. She was busy admiring the breadth of his shoulders compared to his slim hips, and that wasn’t the way she usually responded to men. What made it worse was that he seemed to know because he hardly took his gaze off her.

‘Is Chris around, darling?’ asked Lewis, draping an arm casually around Rowena’s shoulders.

Rowena smiled up at him. ‘I think I saw him coming back from the pool.’

‘Give him a call, then Harriet will know the three most important people in the house!’ He laughed, but softly, as though at some private joke.

Rowena left the room for a moment and Harriet decided that she wasn’t going to stand around feeling like an awkward schoolgirl, so she sat down on the low sofa and immediately watched her hemline rise to her thighs again.

Lewis glanced briefly at her legs and then away. Harriet wondered if he was simply so used to seeing women’s legs that they no longer interested him, or if Rowena’s were far better than hers. For some ridiculous reason she hoped it wasn’t the latter. She’d always thought her legs were one of her best points.

‘I hope you and Rowena get along all right,’ said Lewis quietly. ‘She’s going through a difficult time at the moment. The film we’re getting ready is going to test her like she’s never
been tested before. She needs a lot of understanding and support. Sometimes she can seem difficult, but it’s insecurity. You find most actors and actresses are basically insecure.’

‘I’d be insecure if my work depended on my appearance,’ said Harriet.

Lewis looked directly at her. ‘I don’t think you’d have any reason for your insecurity.’

Harriet went warm at the unexpected compliment and couldn’t think how to respond. ‘I think Rowena’s beautiful,’ she said eventually.

‘She was beautiful, but at thirty the camera can be very unkind.’

‘Is she thirty? She doesn’t look it!’ exclaimed Harriet.

Lewis raised an eyebrow. ‘You’re learning fast. That’s exactly the kind of thing she needs to hear.’

‘But it’s true,’ protested Harriet.

‘Having you here won’t help her believe that,’ he remarked.

‘Well, she chose me. It isn’t my fault I’m only twenty-three.’

‘Of course not,’ said Lewis reassuringly, knowing that it was he and not Rowena who’d chosen Harriet, and his choice had been a very careful one. He needed to stoke Rowena’s insecurity, to trigger off some form of jealousy if the plan was to work. It was the only way he could think of to help her.

An awkward silence fell, but then the door opened and Rowena returned with a slim, blond-haired, blue-eyed young man behind her. His complexion was fresh and at first glance he looked little more than a boy, but on closer inspection Harriet thought he was probably in his late twenties.

‘Chris, this is Harriet Radcliffe,’ said Rowena proudly. ‘Harriet, I’d like you to meet Chris Falkener, my half-brother.’

Harriet sat forward on the sofa and shook hands with the young man who was staring at her quite openly. ‘You’re a knock-out!’ he exclaimed in apparent surprise. ‘Whatever were you thinking of, Rowena, letting a beautiful young lady like this loose in the house?’

To Harriet’s dismay Rowena flushed and in the light from the window it looked as though there were tears in her eyes, although when she spoke her voice was quite steady. ‘Don’t be silly, Chris, you’ll embarrass Harriet. Besides, why shouldn’t I have an attractive personal assistant for a change? You know I like beautiful things around me.’

‘Things yeah, but not women. Well, you’re the nicest surprise I’ve had since Christmas, Harriet. Welcome to our little family.’

Harriet smiled politely, but her first impression of him wasn’t favourable. He seemed spoilt and ill-mannered, and it was difficult to believe he was Rowena’s half-brother.

After the introductions a maid was summoned to take Harriet to her rooms. ‘If there’s anything you don’t like, let me know,’ said Rowena with a smile. ‘We want you to feel really at home here. Part of the family unit.’

‘Thank you,’ said Harriet politely, privately thinking that as a personal assistant she was unlikely to be involved in their domestic life, and in any case it was hardly a family. A husband, wife and half-brother didn’t seem to her to symbolise a close-knit unit, exclusion from which would be devastating. She decided it was just a
typical exaggeration by an actress.

Her rooms astonished her. She had expected them to be large, but not particularly plush. In fact the bedroom, decorated in varying shades of blue, looked large enough for two couples rather than a single female. The deep blue carpet flecked with white was wool, its pile thick and luxurious beneath her feet, and was beautifully complemented by the blue curtains patterned with tiny white flowers. As for the bed, Harriet could hardly believe her eyes at the sight of it.

It was enormous, the largest bed she’d ever seen, and at each corner an ornate gold column rose up at least five feet towards the ceiling, while at the foot of the bed the gold theme was continued with a twisted rope pattern that led from each of the side poles to meet in the middle in a two-feet-tall figure of two lovers embracing. The blue and white padded headboard was unusually high and surrounded by a design that matched the entwined gold rope at the opposite end.

The en suite bathroom was a total contrast. The floor was covered in white rugs and the bath was white enamel set in a solid wood surround and shaped to fit the body, broad at one end, then narrowing at the end where the taps were. It was also unexpectedly deep, and Harriet wondered if there was enough hot water for everyone in the house to fill similar baths.

On the walls were tiny pen and ink etchings, all framed in wood that matched the bath surround. On closer inspection Harriet could see that each etching showed a couple engaged in some form of love-making, most of them the kind of positions that made her ache at the very prospect.

At her bedside table was a telephone, and on a sudden impulse she picked it up and dialled Ella’s number. For once it wasn’t the answerphone and Ella was clearly delighted to hear from her.

As soon as Harriet lifted her receiver a light flashed on the phone in Lewis’s study and he carefully picked up his own handset, then sat listening with interest to Harriet’s conversation.

‘Ella, you were right!’ she said dramatically.

‘About what?’ asked Ella, intrigued by Harriet’s unusual enthusiasm.

‘Rowena’s husband. He is incredibly handsome, and there’s something about him I can’t explain it but it just makes you feel weird all over when he looks at you.’

‘Nice weird?’

‘Of course! I know now that I was right to leave James. I never once lusted after him in all the years I knew him!’

‘You mean you lust after Lewis James? Harriet, he’s a respectable married man!’ laughed Ella.

‘I know, disgraceful isn’t it? I can’t help it, Ella. I’d give anything to know what it was like to have a man like that make love to me. Still, I’ll settle for living in the same house.’

‘I wouldn’t,’ said Ella bluntly, and in his study Lewis smiled. ‘You should go for it,’ continued Ella. ‘It could be difficult though, he’s not what you’d call a ladies’ man. As far as I know from the gossip columns he’s been faithful to Rowena Farmer since they married, and word has it that even she comes second to his work.’

‘Sounds quite a challenge,’ said Harriet.

‘Let me know if you make any progress!’ laughed Ella. ‘What are your rooms like?’

‘I’ve only seen my bedroom and bathroom, and they’re out of this world. I’m sure the living-room will be just as grand.’

‘Better than working for Mr Grant, I take it?’ queried Ella.

‘No comparison!’ agreed Harriet. ‘I’d better go now. Oh yes, one thing. Did you know Rowena Farmer had a half-brother called Chris?’

Ella hesitated. ‘Now you come to mention it I did read something about him once. I think he only gets to act in her films, you know – a kind of hanger-on. Why, is he there too?’

‘Yes, but he doesn’t look anything like her. In fact, I wasn’t that struck on him.’

‘That’s because you only had eyes for Lewis,’ laughed Ella. ‘I’ll have to go now. I’m auditioning in half an hour, but keep me up to date, won’t you?’

‘I certainly will,’ Harriet assured her and when she replaced the receiver she failed to notice the faint click as Lewis did the same.

Her living-room was equally luxurious, the colour theme an unusual burnt orange with cream furniture, including an antique chaise longue and the largest armchair Harriet had ever seen.

When she went back into her bedroom the maid was unpacking her clothes and hanging them in the cupboards. ‘Miss Farmer would like to see you downstairs in the conservatory when you’re ready,’ she informed Harriet.

‘I’ll go now,’ Harriet said quickly. ‘Where is it?’

‘Just past the bottom of the staircase, first door on your left.’

When Harriet entered Rowena was sitting
slumped in a wicker chair, her head back and her face drained of its usual colour. Harriet cleared her throat and at once the film star’s head came up and a professional sparkle returned to her features.

‘Was everything all right, Harriet?’ she asked sweetly.

‘The rooms are incredible; I shall get thoroughly spoilt here.’

‘I hope so,’ said Rowena vaguely. ‘You must help me get this room straight. It needs lots of potted plants, spice ropes – that kind of thing. Would you see to it for me?’

Harriet, though she thought the clean uncluttered lines of the room very attractive, agreed. If Rowena wanted plants, plants it should be.

Harriet stood by the large glass windows of the conservatory and stared out across the grass that gently sloped away from the back of the house.

‘I hadn’t realised quite how beautiful you were,’ said Rowena suddenly.

Harriet turned to look at her. ‘I’m sorry?’

‘You’re young as well.’

‘I’m twenty-three,’ said Harriet, wondering why Rowena should suddenly start talking about her PA’s appearance.

‘Unfortunately I’m not. I hadn’t expected Chris to find you so attractive.’ Harriet, uncertain as to what she should say, kept silent. ‘Did you find him attractive?’ continued Rowena.

Harriet gave a small smile, embarrassed by the question. ‘I really don’t know – I hardly saw him-but not especially. He isn’t my type.’

‘Then what is your “type”, as you so quaintly put it?’ queried Rowena.

Now Harriet realised that she was in trouble. ‘I prefer dark men,’ she said slowly.

‘Then presumably you find my husband attractive, if not my half-brother?’

Harriet wished Rowena would change the subject. If she kept on like this it was going to be impossible not to antagonise her, and her voice already had an edge to it, as though she was annoyed by something Harriet had done.

‘He’s very handsome,’ she replied diplomatically.

‘Handsome! Yes, of course he’s handsome, but so are thousands of men. Isn’t he attractive to you?’

‘I hadn’t thought about it,’ lied Harriet.

Rowena sat up straight in her chair. ‘That’s a lie. I saw the way you looked at him. You felt it, the same as all women do. You wanted him, didn’t you? Even then, in those first moments, you were wondering what it would be like to go to bed with him.’

‘I most certainly was not!’ said Harriet, trying her best to sound offended. ‘I’m sorry, Rowena, but I’m not sure where this is leading. Have I done something wrong? Would you like me to leave, is that it?’

Rowena leant across the table towards her. ‘I think perhaps there’s something you should know,’ she said slowly.

‘And what could that be?’ asked Lewis, strolling into the room and pouring himself a mug of coffee from the percolator on the table.

Rowena turned her head towards him. ‘I didn’t hear you coming, darling.’

He smiled at her, and absentmindedly ran the
fingers of his left hand down her bare arm. Rowena stretched and made a small sound of pleasure. His arm slid up to her shoulder and pushed the mass of red-gold hair behind her ear so that he could softly stroke the side of her neck. ‘What did you want Harriet to know?’ he repeated.

‘I can’t remember now, you’ve distracted me!’ laughed Rowena. ‘It wasn’t important, only something about my fan mail.’

Lewis looked over at Harriet. ‘My wife gets a lot of fan mail. You’ll spend a great deal of time answering it, I’m afraid. She has ten standard letters of reply on the computer, all designed to appear personal. You just have to be careful to check that the person you’re replying to hasn’t written before. If they have then the letter’s on a separate disk and you choose from ten follow-up replies. “How wonderful to hear from you again”, that kind of thing.’

BOOK: Dark Secret
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ads

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