had suffered at Nicholas Andracas’s hands that night something she had never forgotten. It had been the first time in her nineteen years that someone had treated her with such contempt, and although he may have forgotten her existence in the last seven years—may have forgotten her the moment he entered that bathroom for all she knew!—she had never forgotten him, not even for a day.
The news of Nick’s divorce had hit the newspapers a couple of days after she met him, his wife accusing him of adultery several times over. After her own experience with him she could quite well believe that Beverley Andracas probably deserved the millions of dollars she received in settlement from him. Any woman who could stay married to such a man for four years deserved everything she could get out of him.
But her main worry now was whether or not he would recognise Danielle Smith, successful portrait painter, as Ellie Smith, the girl he had once paid for going to bed with him? God, that must have been a novel experience for him, he had probably never paid a woman for sex in his life before! He would never need to.
But she was still worrying about whether he would recognise her as she waited for him and Audra McDonald to arrive at her apartment the next afternoon. If he didn’t remember her she could carry out this meeting with some degree of dignity, but if he should remember her …! The consequences of that didn’t bear thinking about, and she tried not to.
When the doorbell rang promptly at two o’clock she took her time about answering it, checking her appearance in the mirror one last time. The denims and loose green top weren’t an act of defiance on her part, more a need to be wearing something so completely different than the sophisticated black evening gown she had been wearing the last time she met Nick Andracas. Her outward appearance had changed the last seven years, her hair was styled shorter now, her once slightly rounded face smoothed out to high cheekbones and angled features, her whole bearing one of maturity now rather than a raw adolescence.
She deliberately trained her attention on Audra McDonald as she opened the door, ignoring the man who stood arrogantly at her side, although she was instantly aware of him, sensing that same charged electricity she had known in him seven years ago. Audra McDonald was as beautiful as her photographs proclaimed her to be, although the sharp brown eyes were narrowed assessingly on Danielle, as if gauging her attractiveness, the brief contempt registered there dismissing her as unimportant. That suited Danielle perfectly, she wanted as little tension and unpleasantness from this commission as possible.
Although she wasn’t sure she could count on that to continue as she took the other couple through to the lounge, turning to find the brown eyes were no longer scornfully dismissing, snapping with anger now as Audra McDonald saw and recognised her lover’s open interest in Danielle. Danielle was forced to recognise it too as she also met the warmth in narrowed grey eyes.
Nick had changed little in the last seven years, the black hair showing flecks of grey, the cynicism in his expression deepened, but otherwise he was the same devastatingly attractive man she had once fallen instantly in love with. She felt a similar leap of her senses to the one she had felt that night, although she remained outwardly cool and uninterested, maturity showing her how best to handle this meeting.
‘Do you have any idea what sort of portrait you would like?’ she addressed her question to Audra McDonald, although she wasn’t altogether surprised when Nick Andracas answered.
‘We know exactly what sort of portrait we want, Miss Smith,’ he told her smoothly. ‘It’s a requirement of the play Miss McDonald is in, and will be presented to her at the end of the play’s run.’
‘Oh,’ she nodded understanding, giving no indication that his gravelly sensuous voice meant anything to her, her interest wholly professional as she listened to him explain the details of the portrait needed.
‘You have precisely one month to complete the portrait to our requirements, Miss Smith,’ he finally concluded. ‘We need it for the opening night.’
‘Of course,’ she acknowledged stiltedly. ‘I’ll do my best.’
‘And I’m sure that will be good enough,’ he returned huskily, his eyes darkly caressing.
She refused to meet that gaze, deliberately turning to the actress who had sat quietly at his side on the sofa as he talked. ‘When would you like to begin your sittings, Miss McDonald?’
Anger still burned deep in the brown eyes. ‘Is that really necessary?’ she drawled in a bored voice. ‘Wouldn’t a photograph do?’
Danielle shook her head, all the time aware that narrowed grey eyes never left her face. But they contained no grain of recognition of the past, she was sure of that, saw her only as the beautiful woman she was now. ‘I’m afraid I can’t work that way,’ she explained politely. ‘Although I could recommend someone else who—–’
‘No,’ Nick Andracas cut in abruptly. ‘I want you to do the portrait.’
‘Really, Nick,’ Audra McDonald turned to him impatiently, her beautiful mouth pouting provocatively. ‘Do I have to sit around here for hours on end, bored out of my mind?’
‘Yes,’ his answer was uncompromising.
Her hand came to rest on his thigh. ‘I’d much rather spend the time with you.’
He looked at her without emotion. ‘You’ll come here as often as Miss Smith requires you to.’
‘But, Nick—–’
‘Audra!’ He didn’t raise his voice, he didn’t need to, his tone enough to silence his mistress.
Danielle witnessed the exchange with a certain amount of embarrassment. That the fiery Audra McDonald was about as ‘tamed’ as she could be when with this man was obvious, her expression now rebellious, although she raised no more objections. Danielle did not like the other woman in the least, but she could feel sorry for her. ‘I doubt I’ll need to trouble you for more than one or two sittings,’ again she ignored Nick Andracas, talking to the actress. ‘And probably only for an hour or so at a time, perhaps on a Saturday morning if that’s convenient?’
Brown eyes shot Nick Andracas a resentful glare, although he seemed immune to it. ‘I suppose Saturday is all right,’ she agreed ungraciously. ‘Although it will have to be in the afternoon,’ she gave her lover a smouldering look from beneath long lashes. ‘I don’t like to get out of bed early.’
‘What time is most convenient for you, Miss Smith?’ Nick Andracas ignored the actress’s effort to flirt with him, removing her hand pointedly from his thigh, his mouth a thin straight line of disapproval at the intimacy.
Danielle was beginning to get the feeling she had been brought in on the middle of a lovers’ tiff. Or perhaps this was the way Nick always treated his mistress? He had been cruel and unfeeling in the past, perhaps those emotions had just intensified with the passing of the years. ‘The afternoon will be fine,’ she said coolly. ‘About two o’clock?’
He nodded. ‘I believe Mr Vaughn has told you the details of your fee?’ he raised dark brows in challenge, as if he already knew of her refusal to accept the amount he had offered.
‘It’s too much,’ she met his challenge. ‘You will get the bill for the usual amount once the portrait is completed. If my work is satisfactory.’
The grey eyes rekindled with interest. ‘I’m sure it will be.’
‘Only time will
