Bundle of Brides Page 2

  ‘Lydia’s our housekeeper,’ Elinor said. ‘She and Michael take care of everything.’

  Michael being the chauffeur, Gina surmised. She smiled at the woman, receiving the briefest acknowledgement. Elinor herself appeared to be the only one ready to offer an unqualified welcome.

  ‘Looking at the two of you, I suppose I should make a bit of an effort,’ Ross remarked when Lydia had left. ‘Always providing you didn’t get round to throwing out my stuff yet?’

  Elinor shook her head reprovingly. ‘You know perfectly well I haven’t.’

  ‘Don’t go to any trouble on my account,’ Gina told him blandly. ‘I’ve no objection whatsoever to shirtsleeves.’

  ‘I’ll bear it in mind.’ He drank the rest of his own drink, and pushed back his chair once more. ‘See you.’

  Elinor eyed Gina shrewdly as her son departed. ‘Been getting at you, has he?’

  Gina had to smile. ‘You could say that. He seems to think I’m lying through my teeth when I say I’m not interested in any financial gain from all this.’

  ‘You have to admit that’s an unusual attitude to take,’ Elinor commented after a moment. ‘Most people in your position would be only too ready to seek compensation.’

  ‘I’m not most people. Naturally, I regret never having known my real mother, but I’ve had a very good life with two people I love more than anyone in the world. I don’t want any compensation.’

  ‘You may have trouble convincing your grandfather of that too,’ Elinor said. ‘He’s full of plans.’

  ‘Then I’m afraid he’ll have to unplan.’

  The grey eyes, so like her son’s, met green for a lengthy moment, an odd expression in their depths, then she inclined her head. ‘You know your own mind.

  ‘Tell me about yourself,’ she went on. ‘I know you graduated from university, and you have your own business now, but little else. Is there a man in your life?’

  ‘No one special,’ Gina admitted. She adopted a light note. ‘I’m what’s known as footloose and fancy-free!’

  ‘Not for lack of offers, I’m sure. You’re very lovely.’

  Gina gave a laugh. ‘By Hollywood standards, I’d scarcely make first base!’

  ‘You might be pretty shocked if you saw some Hollywood beauties au naturel,’ Elinor replied. ‘Make-up and lighting can work miracles. You’ve no need of enhancement.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Gina took it all with a pinch of salt. She’d no false vanity about her looks, but Elinor was way over the top. ‘Is it always as hot as this?’ she asked, more by way of changing the subject than through any need to know.

  ‘This is cool compared to what it will be in a few weeks,’ Elinor confirmed. ‘We get whatever breeze there is up here, which helps. There’s a pool, if you want to cool off any time. It’s down on a lower level. You can’t see it from here. I swim every morning, if you feel like joining me.’

  ‘I’d like to.’ Gina could say that much in all honesty. She liked Elinor Harlow. Better by far than she liked her son.

  She closed her mind to the thought that liking had little to do with the responses that individual aroused in her.

  They talked desultorily for a while, until Ross joined them again. He was wearing a pair of tailored trousers in dark blue, along with a white shirt. His thick dark hair was still damp from the shower, curling a little at the ends.

  ‘Better?’ he asked, with a tilt of an eyebrow in Gina’s direction.

  ‘Fine feathers make fine birds,’ she responded, adopting the same tone.

  ‘Gina and I were discussing the film industry,’ Elinor put in. ‘You should take her down to the studio while she’s here, Ross. Sam would be only too delighted.’

  ‘According to what she tells me, she isn’t going to be here long enough to do any touring,’ he said.

  ‘I suppose I could stretch a point,’ Gina parried, with absolutely no intention. ‘I’m never likely to get the chance to see a film studio again. Of course, if you’re too busy…’

  He gave a brief shrug. ‘I guess I can stretch a point too. I’ll make the arrangement. Ready to eat?’

  ‘Well, yes.’ She could say that in all honesty. ‘Outside or in?’

  ‘Out, but not here. Don’t bother bringing your drink,’ he added as she made to pick the glass up. ‘You can have another.’

  ‘Waste not, want not,’ she returned, ignoring the instruction.

  Elinor was smiling. ‘I think you might have met your match, darling,’ she said to her son.

  ‘Don’t count on it,’ he advised Gina with a challenging glint. ‘I’m not on the market.’

  ‘I’m not in the queue,’ she returned.

  ‘Let’s go and eat,’ said Elinor, obviously very entertained by the repartee.

  The terrace swept right around the side of the house. Ross saw the two women settled at the table already set out for the meal before taking his own seat. Gina met the grey gaze across the table with an equanimity she was beginning to find a strain to keep up. He disturbed her in more ways than just the one.

  The meal was brought out on a heated trolley, from which they all helped themselves. Simply presented though it might be, the food was beautifully prepared. All the same, Gina found herself toying with it, her appetite shrivelled by the tiredness creeping up on her. She’d dozed on the plane, but only fitfully. To all intents and purposes, she’d been up and about for almost twenty-five hours.

  ‘When do I get to meet Roxanne?’ she asked at one point, fighting to stay alert.

  ‘When she gets back from Frisco,’ Ross supplied. ‘If she gets back before you leave.’

  ‘Stop pushing the girl,’ his mother reprimanded. ‘She’ll leave when she’s good and ready to leave.’ Her eyes were on Gina’s face. ‘I think you should go and get a good night’s rest. Tomorrow’s a new day.’

  ‘You’ve been reading Gone with the Wind again,’ commented her son. ‘It’s time I was off too, if it comes to that. I was due at Pinots an hour ago.’

  ‘I thought the Hollywood scene left you cold,’ Elinor remarked.

  ‘Depends who’s going to be there.’ He was on his feet as he spoke, gaze shifting to Gina. ‘I’ll let you know about the studio tour.’

  ‘Fine.’ She was too tired to conjure any smarter response. ‘Goodnight, then.’

  ‘Goodnight.’

  She watched him stride across to the house, aware of a spasm deep down inside as she viewed the tapering line from shoulder to hip, the hardness of thigh beneath the fine material of his trousers. It wasn’t the first time she’d been physically stirred by a fine male physique, though never quite so strongly, she had to admit.

  Forget it, she told herself. The situation was fraught enough without letting sexual attraction in on the act.

  ‘He isn’t really as hard as he might appear,’ said Elinor, watching her watching him. ‘It’s been shock on shock these past weeks.’

  ‘Is there any chance at all for my grandfather?’ Gina ventured.

  ‘I’m afraid not. The tumour was inoperable by the time it was diagnosed. You’ll find little outward sign of his condition. The medication keeps him pain-free.’ Elinor’s voice was matter-of-fact, but there was no disguising the pain in her eyes. ‘He sent the letter to you before he told us about it. It must have come as a shock for you too.’

  ‘Yes.’ The understatement of the year, Gina reflected. ‘My parents had no idea of my background.’

  ‘But they didn’t object to you coming?’

  ‘Not in the circumstances.’ Gina put a hand to her mouth to smother a yawn. ‘I’d better call it a day. I can’t even think straight right now.’

  ‘Can you find your own way?’ Elinor asked. ‘Or shall I come with you?’

  ‘I’ll be fine.’ All Gina wanted at present was to be alone. She gave the older woman a smile. ‘See you in the morning, then.’

  She went back round the house to enter by the same door from which she’d emerged with Alex a couple of hours or so ago
, gaining her room without running into anyone. The bed looked so inviting. She had to force herself to at least remove her make-up before tumbling into it.

  Tired though she was, she found sleep hard to come by. Her mind kept endlessly turning. There had never been a shortage of money in the Saxton household. Her father was a company director, her mother the author of two highly acclaimed biographies, their home in Harrow as up-market as any other on the avenue. Far removed from the world these people lived in even so. She may be one of them by birth, but she could never be one of them by choice. Ross was welcome to it all.

  CHAPTER TWO

  APART from a certain hesitation in his speech, and some restriction in mobility in his left side, there was, as Elinor had said, little to reveal the ravages the brain tumour was wreaking on Oliver Harlow’s body. At sixty-five, he still appeared a fine figure of a man.

  ‘You’re Jenny’s daughter all right,’ he said with a catch in his voice. ‘I can’t tell you how much it means to me to have you here, Gina. To know I’m forgiven for what I did.’

  He was taking a lot for granted, but she let it pass.

  ‘I think the best thing we can both of us do now is put it from mind,’ she said. She brightened her voice to add, ‘You have a stunning home! I’m only just beginning to find my way around. Your wife and I swam together earlier. Not that I’d have thought the pool needed heating in this climate. You could hard boil an egg in there!!’

  Oliver laughed. ‘Ross would be the first to agree with you. He refuses to use it himself. Elinor insists on a minimum of eighty. She says anything less is too much of a shock on the system.’ He paused, his regard centred on her face. ‘How did you and Ross get along yesterday?’

  Gina kept her expression bland. ‘Like a house on fire. He’s quite a character.’

  ‘He’s all of that.’ There was a note of quiet satisfaction in his voice. ‘I recognised his potential even at fourteen. Not entirely my doing, of course, but I like to think I played a major part in shaping him.’

  They were seated on the terrace beneath one of the wide umbrellas. Elinor came to join them, looking from one to the other with quizzically lifted brows.

  ‘So, how are things going?’

  ‘I think we can say things are going very well,’ her husband answered. ‘You’d agree with that, Gina?’

  ‘Of course.’ She could scarcely say anything else, she thought.

  ‘Ross rang a minute or two ago,’ Elinor went on. ‘He’s arranged the studio tour we were talking about last night for this afternoon. The studio head, Sam Walker, is an old family friend.’

  ‘Sam knows Jenny had a baby adopted,’ Oliver put in. ‘One of the few.’

  ‘To be honest, I’m not all that interested in doing this tour,’ Gina admitted.

  ‘If Ross has gone to the trouble of arranging it, you’d better pretend to be,’ said her grandfather on a humorous note. ‘What time will he be here?’

  ‘In half an hour. He’s taking you to lunch first,’ Elinor added to Gina. ‘He said to tell you not to bother dressing up. You’ll be far more comfortable in casual wear.’

  Gina kept her tone as free of sarcasm as possible. ‘Thoughtful of him to worry about my comfort.’ She stirred reluctantly. ‘I suppose I’d better go and sort something out, then. I think this…’ indicating her brief sun top ‘…might be just a little too casual.’

  ‘With a figure like yours, you could wear a sack and still look good,’ Oliver commented with a certain complacency. ‘The Harlow women have always been well-structured.’

  ‘He’s talking about the boobs, darling,’ Elinor advised. ‘I’d never have made the grade myself if I’d been flatchested, would I, honey?’

  ‘Not a chance,’ he confirmed.

  Seeing the look that passed between the two of them, Gina felt a sudden pang that could only be envy. Her parents aside, she’d never known that depth of feeling for anyone. How Elinor could joke when she was on the verge of losing the man she so obviously loved to distraction was beyond her.

  Back in her room, she surveyed her somewhat scant wardrobe, selecting a pair of cotton jeans in off-white, along with a sleeveless beige sweater. The length of her hair caught back in a tortoiseshell slide, she applied no more than a bare sweep of mascara along her lashes, and a dash of pale pink lipstick. If Ross wanted casual, casual was what he would get.

  He was waiting for her in the hall when she went down. He was wearing jeans himself, the cut and fit lifting them into a range of their own. Tucked in at the waist, the cotton T-shirt outlined a well-toned midriff.

  ‘Glad to see you took my advice,’ he commented. ‘You might find sunglasses a help.’

  Gina tapped the small white shoulder-bag she was carrying. ‘In here—along with my handkerchief.’

  The grin came and went. ‘Call it a brotherly concern.’

  ‘Strictly speaking,’ she said, ‘you’d be an uncle, though I’m sure you’d hate me to call you that.’

  ‘You can count on it.’

  There was something different about him this morning, Gina reflected as they made their way outdoors. His mood seemed lighter than yesterday. Perhaps because he’d decided to accept her word that she wanted nothing from this relationship. Truth to tell, she didn’t think it was the financial aspect that bothered him so much as the possibility that she might lay claim to the business empire he’d been groomed to take over. Well, he could rest easy on both scores.

  The open-topped car parked out on the forecourt was long and low-slung, its dark blue bodywork gleaming in the sunlight, black leather upholstery masculine as it came. Ross saw her into the front passenger seat before going round to slide behind the wheel.

  Gina was vibrantly aware of his proximity. The light covering of hair on the arm he extended to fire the ignition was bleached golden by the sun, causing her to wonder if the hair on his chest—assuming he had hair on his chest—was the same.

  Not, she assured herself, that it mattered a damn to her anyway. She couldn’t afford to let it matter.

  Conversation was kept to a minimum on the drive down. Gina wasn’t loath to sit back and just admire the scenery. Beverly Hills. Home to so many famous names both past and present. There was a tour, she recalled reading somewhere, that was supposed to take in the homes belonging to all the major stars. It must be like living in a goldfish bowl!

  ‘The price to be paid,’ Ross remarked when she said as much. ‘None of them spend all that much time here, anyway, these days.’

  ‘Do you know any of them?’

  ‘One or two. They’re people just like you and me.’

  Him, maybe, she thought; she was way outside her natural environment.

  Anticipating a city venue for lunch, she was taken by surprise when he turned the car in through a wide gateway, only realising that the long, low building in front of them was a hotel when she saw the discreetly displayed sign.

  ‘Is this where you live?’ she queried.

  Ross indicated the top left-hand corner of the building. ‘Right up there. Easier to eat here than get caught up in the mêlée downtown. The restaurants are second to none.’

  ‘You never fancied a home of your own?’

  ‘Too much of a hassle. I travel a lot.’

  He brought the car to a stop at the foot of the broad flight of steps leading up to the entrance, getting out to hand over the keys to a young man in a smart green uniform that matched the overhead canopy. Gina slid from her own seat and went to join him as the valet drove the vehicle away.

  ‘Impressive,’ she commented, refusing to be overwhelmed. ‘And this is only one of…how many?’

  ‘Twenty-three to date. We don’t always build, we acquire and rejuvenate. Which one did you sample?’

  ‘New York. A special deal through a friend in a travel agency. Economy each way, plus two nights in the Harlow. Didn’t leave much over for a Fifth Avenue shopping spree, but I managed to pick up a few bargains.’

  ‘Worth the trip?�
��

  ‘Definitely. Jeans like these cost a bomb back home. I only paid forty dollars.’

  The appealing grin lit the lean features once more. ‘I meant the accommodation.’

  Gina kept a straight face. ‘As I already told you, very nice. Of course, we were occupying one of the least expensive rooms, and eating out, so we didn’t—’

  Dark brows lifted quizzically. ‘We?’

  ‘I was with a friend.’ Her eyes were on the woman who’d just emerged from the hotel. ‘That’s Shauna Wallis, isn’t it?’

  ‘It is,’ Ross confirmed. ‘She rents a bungalow in the grounds. The friend male or female?’

  ‘Female.’ Her attention was still on the star, who had now been joined by a young man wearing tennis whites. ‘She looks rather older than I imagined her to be.’

  ‘Natural daylight can be a killer,’ Ross rejoined. ‘Dennis is our resident pro. He’ll be taking her for a session.’

  Gina glanced his way appraisingly, registering the slant to his lips. ‘You’re a cynic,’ she accused.

  ‘A realist,’ he said. ‘Shauna likes fit young men.’

  ‘And you’ve no objection to a member of staff providing the service?’

  ‘What he gets up to in his lunch hour is his own business. Talking of which, we’d better get to it ourselves if we’re to be at the studio for two. Sam’s keeping a slot free for us. He knew Jenny, of course. He’s looking forward to meeting you.’

  Which was more than she could say, Gina reflected wryly, moving on up the steps along with Ross. Something in her shrank from learning too much about the girl who’d given her life—of creating a tie to the past that she might find difficult to sever.

  The hotel was superlative, the vast lobby separated into different sitting areas, some upholstered with tropical-style fabrics, others with leather furniture and plenty of marble. Plant life abounded.

  There were people sitting around, groups standing chatting, porters trundling trolleys from the long mahogany desk where three receptionists were hard at work, to the bank of elevators.

  ‘Business seems to be good,’ Gina commented.

  ‘It always is.’ Ross acknowledged a man in a dark grey suit hovering near by. ‘We’re eating in the Garden Room.’