she put into adopting a character, but she was wrong about not having a special gift. It was innate. The play of emotion was on her face all the time in her own life. He didn’t have to study her to read her feelings. They were mirrored in her expressions.
He’d first noticed her in a coming-of-age soap opera that had run for years. She outshone everyone else in the cast. He’d learnt that she’d been on television all her life—commercials featuring a baby, then a toddler, children’s shows, teenage shows. He kept her in mind, waiting to acquire a storyline that would showcase her special talent, and she certainly wasn’t disappointing him now that he had it.
By all accounts, her father had also been a very gifted actor. There were still people around who deplored his early death—suicide, in the grip of depression. He couldn’t imagine Stephanie doing anything to help him out of it, more like driving him into it with her self-serving demands.
He didn’t want Chloe falling into a depression, unable to put it aside to play her part in the show—a very solid reason for her to be here with him, out of her mother’s reach. She looked happy at the moment. Nevertheless, he couldn’t control her mood when she was alone.
An idea came to him. She’d wanted a baby. He’d give her a puppy or a kitten, something for her to look after and pet, another attraction for staying in the children’s house and it should lessen any loneliness she felt.
As it turned out, he didn’t need to add another attraction.
Edgar had been and gone with his tray-mobile, clearing the table and leaving them with coffee and a selection of Elaine’s petit fours. It more or less marked the end of lunch and Max knew he shouldn’t press Chloe into staying longer with him if she made a move to go. She finished her coffee and faced him with an air of decision.
‘I will stay the two months, Max.’
She said a lot more, expressing her gratitude for his offer, etc, etc, but he barely heard it, his mind buzzing with elation.
He’d won.
And he’d win all he wanted with Chloe Rollins before she left the children’s house.
She was his for the taking.
CHAPTER SIX
CHLOE was glad she had accepted Gerry Anderson’s services on Monday morning, glad that Max had instructed him to use the black Audi Quattro sedan with tinted windows for transporting her wherever she wanted to go. Paparazzi were camped outside the gates of the Vaucluse mansion. They were also at the entrance to the studios. Interest in the scandal was obviously running hot.
Once they were safely inside the grounds of the studio, she asked Gerry to stop the car and summon the security guard so she could speak to him. She rolled down her window as the man approached.
‘Miss Rollins?’ He tipped his cap to her.
She smiled. ‘Good morning. I just wanted you to know that my mother, Stephanie Rollins, is no longer my agent and I would not welcome her on the set.’
He nodded. ‘Mr Hart has already given instructions to that effect. Covers Mr Lipton and Miss Farrell, as well. Don’t be worrying they’ll be let in, Miss Rollins. They won’t.’
‘Thank you.’
‘No problem,’ he assured her with a friendly salute.
Max … one step ahead of her. He thought of everything. But at least she had acted decisively for herself this time and Chloe felt good about that. She was never going to allow anyone to make decisions for her again, or be talked into anything she didn’t want to do.
The whole day on the set felt better without her mother sitting in on everything, watching, criticising, coaching, fussing. No-one there was unaware of her situation, and at first the other cast members and the crew treated her with a kind of wary sympathy. Only after she had demonstrated that she was still on top of her role and determined to carry through every scene to be shot did they become more relaxed with her. Chloe felt her own confidence growing as she followed the director’s instructions without a hitch.
Sympathy gave way to curiosity. She wasn’t acting like a traumatised woman. Had she left her unfaithful husband and plunged into an affair with Maximilian Hart? No-one put it into words but Chloe read the speculation in their eyes. Oddly enough, she wasn’t embarrassed by it. While it wasn’t the truth, she sensed that people wouldn’t blame her for it if she had. In fact, during the break for lunch, there was envy in some of the women’s eyes when one guy brashly asked her if Max’s guest house matched his mansion.
‘It’s much smaller,’ she answered dryly, and her quelling look put an immediate stop to any further questions touching on her private life. She didn’t want to describe how special the children’s house was, nor reveal her decision to stay on there for two months. It was no-one else’s business but hers and Max’s.
However, she inadvertantly broke the confidentiality of their arrangement later that afternoon. After leaving the studios, she asked Gerry to drive her to her favourite greengrocer’s market at Kensington, wanting to stock up with fruit and vegetables and be relatively independent of Elaine’s provisions for the guest house. Gerry insisted on accompanying her into the market, saying the car had been followed, although not into the parking station, which allowed some room for doubt as to whether the pursuit had been coincidental or deliberate.
Coincidental, Chloe thought. The tinted windows of the car had frustrated the paparazzi this morning. Why waste their time following her again? Max was the better target and she wasn’t with him.
But it was deliberate.
Chloe had only been shopping for a few minutes when an all too familiar voice cracked at her like a whip with stinging force.
‘It’s a shameful state of affairs when a mother is reduced to chasing a car to make contact with her daughter!’
The lettuce she’d been holding spilled from her hand. Her heart jumped and so did the rest of her body as she spun to face the oncoming attack. Her mother was livid with anger, her steel-blue eyes shooting furious arrows of accusation, her hands already lifting like talons to grab Chloe’s shoulders and shake her. The old instinct to cringe swept through her but this time Chloe fought it. She was not a child to be shaken into submission and her mother did not own her anymore. Her spine stiffened and she stood her ground, although her stomach cramped and her legs started to tremble.
Gerry Anderson stepped between them and her chest almost caved in with relief at being shielded by him.
‘Get out of the way! She’s my daughter!’ her mother hissed, grabbing his arm, trying to pull him aside.
‘Miss Rollins?’ Gerry was looking to her for direction.
He would strong-arm her mother away and swiftly escort her out of here if she gave the word. The temptation to flee quivered through her mind, but she’d been weak for far too long, letting her mother run her life. Running away from her now meant she still had power over her, would always have power over her. It had to stop if she was ever to forge an independent life.
She shook her head. ‘I’ll talk to her but stay near, Gerry.’ She turned to her mother, eyes flashing determination. ‘If you create any more of a scene, my bodyguard will step in and we’ll go. Is that clear, Mother?’
‘Your
