you on just so they can look at you! You’d tempt a whole monastic orderly’
Putting his exaggeration down to stress, she flicked a glance down the neatly waisted scarlet jacket and brief coral skirt. ‘I look good,’ she acknowledged. ‘I get eyed up, but—’
‘No. Not good, That’s the point. Oh, I’m sure you say no more often than most women brush their teeth, but that’s not the impression you give out,’ said Lionel impatiently. ‘I don’t know what’s in your background, but it sure isn’t goodness! You’ve got legs a man could dream about, wondering where they ever end, a mindboggling body that sways with invitation whenever it moves and eyes that would lure an ice-man to his fate!’
Her mouth gaped open. He’d given no hint of the way he saw her. She’d virtually taken the job because he seemed preoccupied with other concerns and not the length of her legs.
‘Lionel!’ she said sharply, stiffly. ‘This is my second day. I’ll make it my last if—’
‘Oh, god!’ he groaned, burying his head in his hands. ‘You don’t know what I’m going through. He’s sleeping with my wife!’
Mariann’s eyes widened. No wonder Lionel was at his wits’ end and suggesting this hare-brained scheme! A believer in constancy where marriage was concerned, she glared indignantly at the photograph. Vigadó was evil— and looked it. A modern-day pirate, burning and sinking companies, press-ganging the crew and taking hostages. Poor Lionel, to be up against that monster!
‘I’m so sorry,’ she said gently.
‘Adding insult to injury,’ muttered Lionel, ‘he’s given my wife a job as senior editor!’
She gasped, pained by such a cruel betrayal, and thought how good it would feel to pay Vigadó back for his double-dealing. Crazy! Or was it? Her head lifted high on its long, honey-skinned neck, a reckless smile curving the lush lips with their permanently uptilted corners. Supposing she succeeded? What a coup! Ideas piled into her head.
Hi! I’m your local, friendly plumber…I’m checking your telephones…Rat-infestation inspector here….
Amused by her inventiveness, she glanced at the malefic Vigadó, felt a jolt of raw sexuality and resented him for producing it. He was ripe for his come-uppance. And perhaps she could deliver it by helping Lionel to steal back his brilliant author.
It was a terrific gamble—but rather exciting! And if it came off, her job would be secure. Her dream profession would be solid reality. Even if she were caught searching the files, she could find some excuse like… What am I doing? Why, I’ve lost one of my eyelashes! she imagined herself saying, with a blandly innocent smile. Mariann’s bold sense of the dramatic leapt with the prospect of a full-blown, real-life part to play.
And she’d see her dear sister Tanya, István, John, and the fizzing, exotic city of Budapest again…She grinned, conveniently sweeping obstacles away and dreaming of gorgeous pastries, the magic of the snow, the passionate arguments with husky-accented Hungarians over Turkish coffee…
‘OK,’ she said impulsively, her eyes glistening with anticipated pleasure. ‘The sticky buns clinched it. I’l give it a go—and we’ll beat the brute at his own game!’
‘Oh, bless you, bless you!’ breathed Lionel triumphantly.
Involuntarily, she slanted her sloe eyes to the watchful Vigadó. His gimlet stare was directed straight at her in challenge. ‘Viggy, sweetie,’ she murmured, hoping to cheer Lionel up, ‘are you in for trouble!’
‘Oh, a-dabbin’ it here, a-dabbin’ it there, a-sloshing itWhoops!’ Feeling immensely exuberant now her fellow decorators and the staff of Vigadó’s Budapest office had gone home and she was alone, Mariann halted her raucous song in mid-roller stroke. ‘Drop the “g”,’ she reminded herself with a giggle. ‘Keep in character!’
A dollop of paint dropped on to her bare shoulder and she remembered that she’d been tempted to leave Vigadó’s office reeling from a rash of purple spots, but had overcome the urge!
Her peal of infectious laughter echoed around the empty room as she sidled barefoot along the plank between two ladders. ‘A-sloshin’ it here and a-sploshin’ it there…’
She’d done enough. Operation Search, begin! she thought, and a thousand butterflies suddenly took flight inside her stomach. That was natural, she grimaced.
She’d never done anything criminal before. So far, she’d only skirted the fringes of deception. Now she was breaking and entering. It was still a lark—and she hoped it would remain so. Lionel had seemed thrilled at her clever deception, eagerly demanding to know every detail of her plan.
Carefully she flicked some paint over herself in a few strategic places in case the janitor came in and clambered down. Everything had gone so well! Lionel’s agent had come up trumps. Impersonating Vigadó, he’d ordered two decorators to start work on the offices immediately—and to take on Mariann to help them. Here, the agent had made his voice husky with a few dropped hints.
‘I’m sending her to Budapest ahead of my amival, giving her a job, somewhere to stay and…well, I hope she’ll show her gratitude,’ he’d purred.
Glad of the highly priced job, the decorators hadn’t seen through the deception and had willingly agreed. Why should they care who she was? They had work.
They’d swept in that morning, full of confidence, and no one in the panic-filled building had dared to question ‘Vigadó’s’ arrangement. The staff were too taken up with organising order out of chaos, ready for Vigadó’s arrival—and the manager was more than busy grumbling that he was having to give up his beautiful, spacious office to his boss. She and the decorators had shifted out the antique furniture and spent the rest of the day rubbing down the paintwork and washing the walls while she’d simpered and wriggled seductively out of her boiler suit to lend credibility to her story by displaying a few assets.
Whenever possible, she’d made it clear to anyone who’d listen that Vigadó had picked her off the streets and she was immensely grateful. And when she’d prettily begged to start the ceiling that evening so she could ring Vigadó later and tell him how well she’d done, no one had liked to refuse. The Great Man obviously terrified them all!
Cowards! Her eyes gleamed. In the adjoining office, and now facing her, was the manager’s desk—and the keys to the filing cabinets. She’d particularly asked him to lock them up before they were moved out and had seen where he’d put the keys.
Stealthily she took the keys, slid the small one into the lock and heaved out the ‘B’ drawer…Nothing there about Mary! And before she had time to push the drawer shut and try the ‘O’s, she heard a sound outside and was forced to scamper back up the ladder and on to the board again. Shaking with nerves, she ran the roller up and down the tray, picking up a load of flapjack-coloured paint.
“Oh,’ she belted out noisily, ‘a-dabbin’ it here, a dabbin’ it there—!’
‘A beautiful intruder, I do declare,’ came a dry male drawl.
‘Wooahhh!’ yelled the startled Mariann, seeing who it was and wobbling perilously as a result, her whole body lurching about from the shock. Vigadó! she thought wildly. Why? How—?
‘Watch the—’
