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BOOK 4
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Being Yours BOOK 4
So he's up there, she thought, whoever he is, and wanting the place dark so as to get away without being seen.She tried the lights a third time. Nothing happened; she presumed that whoever was in the lighting booth had turned off the master switch. From now on, the studio would stay dark.How huge it felt, a whole lightless world of space. Somewhere in the vast limbo she heard a quiet click which must be the lighting booth door opening. Then came a patter of feet on the steps, and with them a weird rustling and slithering like the movements of a giant snake. The smell of mothballs and linseed oil and vinegar was suddenly overwhelming.The coat, Amy thought. He has Paul's coat.The pattering and the slithering went on, coming lower and nearer while adrenalin-fuelled ideas zigzagged across her mind like lightning flashes. She must get some light in here somehow. Apart from this main entrance where she stood, the studio had several other ways out, she must get a look at this person befo
Being Yours BOOK 4
Debby gave her a timid, grateful smile. 'But then Col says it ain't fair to Jim, an' then Jim's 'urt, an' then Jill Gann next door . . .''Jill?' Amy had a brief vision of the lanky thirteen-year-old who last Monday in the drama room had eaten the crisps which were her entire lunch. 'How is she?' Amy asked, knowing now that the poor child had to eat for two.Debby shrugged. 'All right.' As well as can be expected, she meant. 'She memorized your address from a envelope you threw away.''Why did she do that?''She thought she'd write to you if she got desperate.' Debby's forefinger drew sunwise patterns on the black shine of the table. 'Seeing you're a soft touch . . .''A what}' Outraged, Amy jerked upright in her chair. 'I am no such thing!' She turned on Paul. 'What are you smiling at?''Nothing. Maybe,' he told Debby, 'you could have put that a bit more tactfully.'The girl stared back at him, out of her depth. 'Miss gave Jill a pound . . .''She was hungry,' Amy said.'She spent it
Being Yours BOOK 5
He didn’t like her. One look told Lynne Castle that her hope for this company’s sponsorship during her articling year was about to be shot right out of the sky because Cliff Foreman, the junior partner, had taken an instant dislike to her. He stood there, tall, with an olive complexion, dark curly hair, and eyes a shade of brown verging on black, and glared at her from behind his affable partner, Grant Simpkins. Mr Simpkins, somewhere in his fifties, with a round, cherubic face and a few strands of ginger hair combed carefully across his © bald spot, smiled warmly at her. “Take a seat, Miss Castle,’ he said, waving her to a chair then sinking back into his own, which creaked. His partner remained standing, leaning against the wall, arms folded, one ankle crossed over the other, body language saying, Keep away from me. ‘Cliff here and I have both read your résumé, and are impressed with the grades you’ve maintained. We did notice, though, that it took you nearly six years to attain y
Being Yours BOOK 5
On Monday morning, Cliff heard her laughter before he saw her and his head snapped back with enough force to jar him. The joyful sound of that laughter sliced into him, and, though he’d never heard her laugh before, he knew exactly who was in the corridor. Even his second of advance warning wasn’t enough to prepare him adequately. Grant, entering after a brief knock, ushered her in, beaming as if he’d personally followed the rainbow and located the pot of gold. ‘Look who’s joining us after all,’ he said to Cliff. Cliff rose to his feet. ‘Miss Castle,’ he said, wishing his voice had sounded stronger, hoping its ragged edge hadn’t given away the strength o the jolt the sight of her had produced. How could merely looking at her make him dizzy? Dammit, it hadn’t. His immediate and potent response to this woman ... woman? — hell, she was scarcely deserving of the term — this girl, could be put down to his having stood too abruptly, or having overslept and missed breakfast. It had nothi
Being Yours BOOK 5
“It's going to be great, guys!’ Lynne flopped back on her motel room bed following her first day at work. Her brother and sister-in-law, each of whom was on an extension phone in their home, tried to speak at once, but Lynne cut them off. ‘After I accepted the job, I had lunch with the junior partner, then spent the rest of the day getting my office organized.’ She laughed. “Though “‘office’”’ is something of an exaggeration, I have to admit. There’s room for a small desk, a computer, a visitor’s chair, and me and not much else. But at least it has a window.’ ‘With a view?’ Ann asked. In the background Lynne heard baby Mandy fussing. ‘A view of a perfectly gorgeous gray concrete wall,’ Lynne said. ‘I’m hoping some enterprising artist will paint a beautiful scene on it, but I’m not holding my breath.’ She laughed. ‘Even some graffiti would be an improvement, but unless it was so innocuous as to be totally uninteresting, I’m sure Cliff Foreman would personally paint over it. He’s as
Being Yours BOOK 5
Littte boats scurried out of the way as even the behemoth car ferry responded to the forces of tide racing through Active Pass, being forced this way, that way, its path twisting and turning between the close shores of the two islands flanking the pass. The warm, gold and green slopes of Galiano Island to the left and Mayne Island to the right rose in rocky humps, their broken reflections dancing sunlit in the sea. Lynne’s coppery hair flew around her face until she turned into the wind, which then molded her soft silk blouse to her shape, forcing Cliff to avert his eyes. ‘What would you do if a big, international accounting firm moved in next door and started undercutting your rates, taking your clients away from you and you had to start laying off employees?’ she asked, surprising him by bringing up the subject again. ‘I wouldn’t like it, but I’d have to learn to live with it.” He shrugged. “Then, on the other hand, maybe I would like it.” Putting his hands on her shoulders, awar
Being Yours BOOK 5
'She’s all clean and changed, Mommy,’ Lynne said, glancing at her sister-in-law. ‘And she really was awake. I heard her when I went in to put the coffee on.’ ‘Right,’ Ann said, disbelief in her tone, but her expression held nothing but loving indulgence. Lynne continued to rock the baby, stroking a finger tenderly along the Mandy’s cheek. In response to that touch, a small, pursed mouth made sucking motions as the infant turned her head toward Lynne’s breast. ‘Wrong fountain, angel-face,’ she said with a laugh, dropping a kiss on the soft, downy, pale red hair before passing the baby over to Ann. ‘Better go see your mom.’ Ann, quite unselfconsciously, discreetly lifted her T-shirt, snuggled the baby close and let her nurse. Cliff looked at Lynne, and the heavy, dragging pain grew to unmanageable proportions. ‘I have to go,’ he said, abruptly shoving back his chair. ‘Thanks for dinner.’ ‘Oh, dear, I’ve embarrassed you,’ Ann said. ‘I’m sorry. Come on, Lynnie, let’s us girls go ins
Being Yours BOOK 5
Lynne spent the next hour wandering through the main floor and basement, making notes of pieces of furniture she thought would fit in her apartment. There was so much here! All her mother’s things, all Taylor had bought when he had his own apartment, and all of Ann’s things as well. In the basement were boxes and boxes of dishes, cutlery, knick-knacks and linens. There’d be no difficulty finding enough. The difficulty would be in trying to choose. Tomorrow, she reminded herself. She’d worry about it tomorrow. Now, she’d go to bed, sleep like a log, and be ready for a hard day’s work. But, as she lay there breathing in the perfumed breeze, picking out the individual aromas of nightscented stocks, nasturtiums and freshly cut grass, sleep was far away. She wandered to the balcony and watched the moon reflect on the water of the river, silvering a rippled path that seemed to arrow right into her heart the way Cliff’s kiss had. No. He was too old. He really didn’t like her. He was all s
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