Whirlwind by Charlotte Lamb Page B

out of the question and her only decent skirt was at the cleaners; this would have to do, but it certainly didn't help her to merge into-the background.
    Looking out of the window, she saw it was a cool but bright spring morning—should she risk going out without a coat? She had a rather pretty jade and black striped velvet bolero left over from her days in rep. She rarely wore it, but it wouldn't look out of place with the black dress and at least it wasn't as shabby as her jacket.
    If their play went into the West End she could buy herself some new clothes, she dreamed, leaving the room to join Laird in the Rolls. If, if, if . . .
    Mrs Gawton was hovering in the hall. 'Going out, Miss Rendle? That's a beautiful car, I always say you can't beat a Rolls Royce. Going somewhere special, are you?' Her avid gaze flitted over Anna, who flinched in the face of that shameless curiosity.
    'Out to lunch,' Anna said shortly.
    'Oh, nice! And all these lovely write-ups you've been getting for your play, really coming up in the world these days, aren't you?'
    Anna's smile hurt. She managed to get past Mrs Gawton and escape into the nice, clean air, taking a deep breath—the woman made no secret of what she was thinking, and Anna hated the sly speculation in her eyes.
    Laird was just coming up the path: he halted as she came out. 'There you are! I said five minutes, not fifteen!' He slid an assessing glance over her from head to toe. 'Charming. I like the bolero; a stylish touch.'
    Anna only wanted to get away from the house and the eyes she felt from behind the grimy lace curtains. She let Laird slide her into the front seat of the Rolls, staring straight ahead while he got behind the wheel and started the ignition. A moment later they were moving smoothly down the street.
    'Will you be warm enough, though?' he asked with a sideways flick of the eyes.
    'Yes, thanks,' she said shortly.
    'What's the matter now?' he asked impatiently, putting his foot down so that the limousine shot forward with a stately roar.
    'My landlady annoyed me,' she admitted with a rueful little grimace, because, after all, it wasn't his fault that Mrs Gawton had a disgusting mind. She had a suspicion that she was beginning to blame Laird Montgomery for everything that happened to her that she didn't like. Lowering her lashes, she watched him through them obliquely—he didn't look much like a scapegoat, but she was using him as one.
    He had a striking profile, she observed a little dreamily; that strong bone structure, of course. The way the spring sunshine hit his cheek showed her how recently he had shaved; his skin was baby-smooth along his jaw.
    'How long have you been living in that dump?' he asked, his heavy-lidded eyes hiding what he was thinking.
    'Longer that I care to remember,' she sighed.
    'I know a spacious, beautifully furnished apartment overlooking Green Park,' he murmured. 'A luxury block with maid service and a lift, full central heating, of course, an indoor swimming pool and jacuzzis . . . '
    Her breath caught-—she had never in her life felt such overpowering rage. It grew inside her like an erupting volcano, shooting flames and red-hot lava through her. She couldn't make a sound, staring at him, her hands screwed up into fists, and Laird watched her sideways as he drew up at traffic lights.
    Anna couldn't believe it when she heard him laughing softly, his brows flickering upwards.
    'You should see your face,' he drawled. 'Wasn't that the offer you were expecting? After what you said about not being for sale I got the impression you'd been waiting for a proposition, and I wouldn't want to disappoint you.'
    'Get lost!' Anna snarled.
    'Or you could move into the penthouse,' he continued as though she hadn't said a word.
    If she hadn't been so angry she might have been curious to see how high he would bid for her. What was she worth? she wondered grimly. What was the going rate for a mistress these days? How many had Laird had?
    That was when an