yellow violas to soften the harshness of the sandstone.
Daniel inserted a key into the brass lock and flung open the doors, revealing a cool marble-floored hallway. On the right this gave way to an open-plan living and dining area with a parquetry floor, Mexican rugs, a lot of black leather and chrome furniture and a huge central fireplace stacked with freshly sawn logs. Most of the far wall was occupied by floor-to-ceiling glass French doors which led on to a shady terrace. Striding across the room, Daniel unlocked one of these doors and ushered Beth outside.
‘Go and sit by the pool,’ he urged, ‘while I rustle up some breakfast.’
‘Can I do anything to help?’ asked Beth in a subdued voice.
‘Yes. You can stop looking as if you’re about to face an executioner at any moment,’ replied Daniel.
But Beth found the advice hard to follow. Slumping into a garden chair, she cupped her chin in her hands and gazed moodily over the vista that lay before her. It was an attractive sight. Beyond the kidney-shaped pool was a brick terrace flanked by tubs of geraniums and bordered by a low wall. Below this the ground dropped away sharply to reveal a breathtaking view of the Pacific Ocean. By now the sun was high in the sky and the sea had turned a deep cobalt-blue. Huge, fluffy white clouds floated against a paler blue sky and the bright sunlight gleamed back from the creamy white stucco walls of the Spanish-style houses far below. Bees buzzed in the flowering plants that climbed a trellis on one wall and the air was sweet and heavy with the scent of jasmine.
It should have been a wonderful experience sitting here on this five-hundred-foot-high hilltop overlooking the ocean and surrounded by every imaginable luxury, but nothing could raise Beth’s spirits at the moment. In the space of the last hour her world seemed to have fallen to pieces. Her fiancé Warren was off in some unnamed hospital, possibly injured. All her possessions were at the bottom of the Santa Barbara harbour and her bright hopes of breaking into American fashion design were in ruins. All she had were the clothes she stood up in and even those didn’t belong to her. They belonged to that extraordinary American who had whisked her away to his hilltop hideaway and who seemed to be quite out of touch with reality. And why had Daniel invited her here? A tremor of anxiety skittered through her as she tried to fathom his motives. Was he planning to try and seduce her? Beth was no fool and she couldn’t help suspecting that the current of tingling physical awareness which had sparked between them at the Yacht Club had stung Daniel as fiercely as her. Yet she couldn’t keep running away from physically alluring men for the rest of her life just because of one bad experience. Besides, sparks of sexual attraction must ignite beween people all the time and it didn’t necessarily stop them from having any social contacts. She would simply have to remain cool and aloof and hope that Daniel did likewise. All the same, she couldn’t help feeling profoundly disturbed by being here.
Turning in her chair, she looked back towards the house and saw that the kitchen also faced on to the terrace. Through the window she could see Daniel grinding coffee and simultaneously holding an animated conversation on a mobile telephone which was tucked into the crook of his shoulder. Catching her eye, he winked at her. A heady feeling of excitement rushed through her veins, then she sighed and sank further down into her chair with her shoulders hunched. This is crazy, she thought to herself. What on earth am I doing here?
Ten minutes later Daniel appeared on the terrace carrying a tray loaded with hot blueberry muffins, coffee, orange juice and butter. To Beth’s astonishment the mobile phone was also sitting on the tray.
‘Right, let’s eat and then we’ll solve your problem.’
Beth gave him a glum look but accepted a hot muffin and a cup of coffee. Despite her depression the strong, sweet coffee and the tart, crumbly muffins began to revive her. For the first time she felt capable of looking ahead more than the next five minutes. And something occurred to her which had not yet crossed her mind. Wincing, she decided to get the uncomfortable moment over with.
‘I’m awfully sorry about the accident,’ she blurted out. ‘I hope your yacht didn’t suffer too much damage, but, if it did, I want you to know that we’ll pay. Somehow.’
‘Forget my yacht!’ he said roughly. ‘If your insurance doesn’t cover it, mine certainly will. And we’ve more important matters to discuss. Now are you ready to make plans?’
She bit her lip and nodded.
‘I guess so. And the first thing I’d better do is find out which hospital Warren’s at and let him know that I’m OK.’
‘That’s already taken care of,’ Daniel assured her swiftly. ‘I phoned and checked. Warren’s at the Mater Hospital. He’s perfectly fine and he knows that you’re here.’
‘Thank you,’ sighed Beth. ‘In that case I suppose he’ll be arriving any time now to collect me.’
‘Maybe,’ retorted Daniel. ‘But I can’t help finding it pretty damned strange that he ever left you in the first place. If you’d been my fiancée, I’d have wanted to know that you were OK immediately. What I’d like to know is why the hell he didn’t come to the Yacht Club to look for you.’
Beth fought down a disloyal temptation to wonder the same thing. Adroitly she changed the subject.
‘You know, I think I’ll have to accept your offer of those clothes you sent Benson to buy,’ she said hastily. ‘After all, I can’t go back to Los Angeles in your bathrobe or in a wet wedding-gown. But if you write down your address for me I’ll make sure that you’re repaid. And if you could just phone the hospital and remind Warren to pick me up I’d be very grateful.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ said Daniel sternly. ‘You’re not going anywhere. We’ve got to find a way of getting your fashion collection ready for the show on Tuesday.’
Beth gave a gasp of astonished laughter.
‘That’s impossible!’ she cried. ‘Look, I’m sure you mean well, but I don’t believe there’s any way we can get those clothes back off the bottom of the harbour.’
Daniel nodded tranquilly and buttered a muffin.
‘No, you’re right there,’ he agreed. ‘I already phoned a diving and salvage firm while I was in the kitchen and they said the same thing, so I guess you’ll just have to make a new lot of clothes.’
Beth groaned.
‘A new lot of clothes?’ she echoed incredulously. ‘You must be joking! It would take half a dozen dressmakers working round the clock for the next six days to reproduce those clothes. There’s no way I could get a new collection together by Tuesday.’
‘Is that right?’ asked Daniel, setting down his muffin and reaching for the mobile phone. He punched in some numbers. ‘Let me see, six dressmakers working round the clock for six days? Well, that shouldn’t be too difficult. Hello? Wendy? Listen, I need two dozen dressmakers to come over to my place right away and work round the clock until Monday night. Can you do that?’
Beth watched aghast as Daniel nodded, smiled and wrote down a couple of figures on a small notepad. Then he switched off the phone.
‘It’s all settled,’ he said tranquilly. ‘They’ll be round in an hour.’
Beth stared at him in horror.
‘Do you seriously mean to tell me you just hired two dozen dressmakers to make up my clothes for the show on Tuesday?’ she demanded.
