Double Standards (9 page)
"Lauren, this is Barbara Leonardos," Nick began the introductions.
"Call me Bebe—everyone does." The woman turned back to Nick and continued, almost as if Lauren wasn't there, "I thought you were bringing Ericka."
"Really?"
Nick mocked lightly. "And I thought
you
were in
Rome
with Alex."
"We were," Bebe admitted, "but we wanted to see you."
When she left a few moments later, Nick started to explain, "Bebe is—"
"I already know who she is," Lauren admitted softly, trying not to sound awed. Barbara Leonardos was the darling of the fashion magazines and gossip columnists, an American oil heiress who was married to a fabulously rich Greek industrialist. "I've seen her pictures in fashion magazines and newspapers dozens of times."
Nick handed Lauren the drink he had mixed for her, picked up his own and inclined his head toward the couple who were striding quickly toward them, arm in arm. "Do you recognize either of those two?"
"No," Lauren admitted. "They don't look even slightly familiar."
Nick smiled at her. "In that case, I'll introduce you. They happen to be our host and hostess, as well as very good friends of mine."
Bracing herself for the inevitable round of introductions, Lauren studied the beautiful brunette in her thirties and the rather heavyset man beside her, who was close to sixty.
"Nick!" The woman laughed delightedly, flinging herself into Nick's arms in utter disregard of the drink he was holding and kissing him with the same intimate, enthusiastic familiarity that Bebe had. "We haven't seen you for months!" she scolded as she stepped back. "What on earth have you been doing?"
"Some of us still work for a living," Nick told her with an affectionate smile. Reaching out, he caught Lauren's arm, drawing her into the circle of comradery. "Lauren, I'd like you to meet our hosts, Tracy and George Middleton."
"Lauren, I'm so happy to meet you,"
Tracy
said,
then
she demanded of Nick, "Why are you two standing way over here by yourselves? No one will even realize you're here."
"Which is precisely why I'm standing over here," Nick told her bluntly.
Tracy
's breath came out in a rueful laugh. "I know I promised you this was going to be a small gathering. I swear we had no idea that nearly everyone we invited was actually going to come. You can't imagine the problem it's created up at the house."
She glanced at the purpling sky and then over her shoulder. Following her gaze, Lauren saw that nearly all the guests had begun to stroll toward the house or down to the pier, where motor launches were waiting to take them out to their yachts. Waiters had started to set up tables under a huge striped canopy, and torches were being lit around the pool. Musicians were moving their instruments onto a large portable stage that had been erected at the far end of the pool.
"Everyone is already dressing for dinner,"
Tracy
stated. "Are you two going over to the Cove to change, or were you planning to change here?"
Lauren's mind reeled. Dressing for dinner? She had absolutely nothing that was even remotely suitable to wear if they were going to dress formally for dinner!
Ignoring Lauren's urgent grip on his forearm, Nick said, "Lauren will change here. I'll go over to the Cove, return whatever phone calls can't wait and change there."
Tracy
smiled at Lauren. "The house is bursting at the seams; you and I can use our room, and George will find somewhere else to change. Shall we go?" she invited, already starting to turn away.
Nick glanced at Lauren's expression with a wry gleam of understanding. "I think there's something Lauren wants to discuss with me. You go ahead, and she'll join you."
As soon as the couple strolled out of hearing distance, Lauren said desperately, "Nick, I don't have anything suitable to wear. Surely you don't, either?"
"I have things over at the Cove, and I'll find a dress for you there too," he assured her calmly. "I'll send it over, and it will be in
Tracy
's room by the time you're ready to put it on."
Inside, the house was a cacophony of voices and bustling activity. Laughter and conversation drifted from twenty different rooms on three different floors, while servants hurried in every direction carrying freshly pressed clothing draped over their arms and trays of drinks in their hands.
Nick stopped one of the servants and asked for his phone messages. In an instant they were in his hand, and he turned to Lauren with a warm smile. "I'll meet you outside by the pool in about an hour. Can you manage without me for that long?"
"I'll be fine," Lauren assured him. "Take your time."
"Are you certain?"
With his compelling gray eyes searching hers, Lauren wasn't certain of her own name, but she nodded anyway. When he left, she turned to find Bebe Leonardos watching her with open curiosity. Quickly wiping the dreamy expression from her face, Lauren said, "Is there a phone I can use somewhere? I'd like to call home."
"Of course.
Where's home?"
Bebe inquired casually.
"Fenster,
"Fenster?"
Bebe sniffed, as if there was an offensive odor associated with the name of the town. Then she left, closing the door behind her.
The long-distance collect call to her father didn't take long because they were both acutely aware of the expense involved. But her dad laughed with pride and astonishment when he heard about her new job and salary, and he was relieved when she told him that Philip Whitworth had insisted she live in his aunt's condominium, rent free. She didn't mention her bargain with Philip because she didn't want to cause her father any anxiety. All she wanted him to know was that his financial burden was now eased.
After hanging up Lauren crossed the study and partially opened the door, pausing at the sound of a cheery female voice raised in greeting at the end of the hall. "Bebe, darling, you look marvelous; it's been ages since I've seen you. Did you know Nick Sinclair is supposed to be here this weekend?"
"He's here," Bebe answered. "I've already spoken to him."
"T
hank
heavens he came!" The other woman laughed. "
Carlton
dragged me here from a divine beach in
Bermuda
because he wants to talk to Nick about some business deal."
"
Carlton
will have to wait his turn," Bebe replied indifferently. "Nick is the reason Alex and I are here too. Alex wants to talk to him about building a chain of international hotels. He's been trying to call Nick from
Rome
for two weeks, but Nick hadn't returned the calls, so we flew here yesterday."
"I didn't see Ericka out there," the other woman said.
"You didn't see her because Nick didn't bring her—but just wait until you see what he brought instead." The derisive laughter in Bebe's cultured voice made Lauren stiffen, even before she added, "You won't believe it! She's about eighteen years old and straight off a farm in
Bebe's verbal attack stunned and irritated Lauren, but she calmly pulled open the door and stepped out into the hall.
Seated at
Tracy
's dressing table an hour later, Lauren brushed her heavy hair until the burnished honey and gold strands framed her face and tumbled in glorious waves over her shoulders. Then she hastily applied a rosy blusher to her high cheekbones, smoothed the matching gloss over her lips and tossed the cosmetics into her purse.
By now Nick was surely down at the pool waiting for her. The thought brought a glow of sheer happiness to her turquoise eyes as she leaned closer to the mirror and carefully put on the treasured 14-karat gold earrings that had belonged to her mother.
When she finished, she stepped back to study the effect of the long, sophisticated cream jersey dress that had arrived from Nick while she was taking a bath. The soft fabric emphasized her high full breasts, and the long tight sleeves hugged her arms all the way to the wrists, where they ended in points at the backs of her hands. The gold link belt nipped in the slightly blousy waistline, so that every feminine curve Lauren possessed was beguilingly displayed, from the top of the straight neckline to the hem of the slightly full skirt where the dainty gold sandals Tracy had lent her peeped out.
"Perfect!"
Tracy
grinned. "Turn around so I can see the back."
Lauren obediently complied.
"How can anything that looks so demure from the front be so smashing from the back?" her hostess asked, looking at the way Lauren's trim back with its golden summer tan was exposed almost to the waistline. "Well, shall we go down?"
As the two of them walked along the balcony, Lauren could hear the sounds of the poolside revelry below floating in through the open windows. Dozens of laughing female voices blended with the deeper murmurings of males,
then
mingled chaotically with upbeat orchestra music.
Five seconds after they walked outdoors onto the patio,
Tracy
was surrounded and whisked away by a group of her friends, leaving Lauren standing alone. She craned her neck, scanning the crowd for a glimpse of Nick. She took two steps forward and immediately saw him standing amid a large group of people at the far end of the pool.
Keeping her eyes on his tall form, Lauren carefully wended her way around the obstacles of guests, waiters, torches, umbrella tables and pool. When she was closer, she could see that Nick was standing with people who were speaking animatedly to him. With his head tipped toward them, he appeared to be listening with rapt attention, yet periodically his gaze would flicker up and slide over the crowd, as if he was looking for someone.
He was looking for her, Lauren realized with an inner glow. As if he sensed her nearness, he lifted his head sharply, and his eyes met hers across the knots of humanity. With an abruptness that bordered on discourtesy, he nodded to the people who were talking to him and without a word simply strolled out of their midst.
When the last group on the patio parted to let him through, Lauren had her first full-length view of him, and her breath caught. His raven black tuxedo fit his tall, splendid frame as if it had been made specifically for him by the finest tailor. The dazzling whiteness of his frilled shirt contrasted beautifully with his bronzed face and formal black bow tie, and he wore the elegant attire with the easy assurance of a man who was thoroughly accustomed to it. Lauren felt absurdly proud of him, and she made no attempt to hide it when he finally stood in front of her. "Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?" she asked softly.
A slow boyish smile spread across his features. "What would you think if I told you no?"
Lauren laughed. "I'd think you were trying to appear modest."
"Then what am I supposed to do now?" he teased.
"I suppose you should try to look a little flustered and embarrassed by the flattery."
"I don't fluster or embarrass very easily."
"In that case, you could try to fluster me by telling me how
I
look," she hinted broadly. Turning slowly so that she wouldn't draw the attention of the other guests, she deliberately gave him the full shock effect of her dress. Flaring torchlight danced off the burnished honey of her hair as she completed her turn and waited while Nick's gaze moved over her glowing face, luminous blue eyes and softly full lips, then swept downward over the lush outlines of her figure.
"Well?" she teased in turn. "What do you think?"
The gray eyes that finally lifted to hers were
flaming
, but instead of answering, he flicked his burning gaze down her length again. He hesitated, and then said abruptly, "I think that the dress fits you perfectly."
Lauren burst out laughing. "Don't ever let anyone tell you that you have a way with flattery, because you don't."
"Is that right?" he mocked, his eyes challenging. "In that case, I'll tell you
exactly
what I think: I think that you're exquisitely lovely, and that you have the fascinating ability to look like an extremely sexy, sophisticated young woman and an utterly angelic girl at one and the same time. And I wish to hell that we weren't trapped here with a hundred other people for the next few hours, because whenever I look at you I become… uncomfortably eager… to find out how you're going to feel in my arms tonight."
Lauren's fair complexion bloomed with color. She wasn't
that
angelic, and she understood what he meant by the phrase "uncomfortably eager." Her gaze slid away from his mocking gray eyes, and she looked at the guests, at the yachts lit up like brilliant white Christmas trees—at
anything
except Nick's tall, hard body. Why had he been so blunt? Maybe he suspected that she'd never slept with anyone before, and he was deliberately trying to panic her into admitting it. Would it even matter to him that she was a virgin?