Flame of Diablo Read Free Page B

insidious
    one, even making her believe, God help
    her, that he was falling in love with her.
    She had even invited him down to
    Abbots Field for the weekend, although
    it had not been a great success, as she
    was the first to admit. Leigh's elegant
    boutique-bought clothes and slightly
    raffish charm had seemed out of place
    against the quiet gracious lines of the old
    house, and although Sir Giles had
    behaved
    with
    perfect
    correctness,
    Rachel knew all the same that he was not
    impressed with Leigh. It had been a
    disappointment, but not, she had told
    herself optimistically, an insurmountable
    one. Grandfather and Leigh had to be
    given a chance to come to terms,
    occupying as they did, two very different
    worlds.
    But there had been no opportunity for
    that. The following weekend Leigh had
    invited her to go away with him, to meet
    his family, he'd said. She'd accepted
    gladly, but then the doubts had begun.
    His manner had changed subtly, for one
    thing, and then for someone travelling
    home for the weekend he didn't seem
    altogether sure of the route. And when
    they arrived at the secluded cottage, and
    found ft deserted, she knew, and
    dismissed all Leigh's too-fluent excuses
    about mistaken dates. The cottage wasn't
    his home. He'd simply hired it for the
    weekend. He'd admitted as much
    eventually, amused at her dismay, but
    clearly confident of his ability to win her
    over and persuade her to stay there with
    him as his mistress.
    'But I don't want it to be like this,' she'd
    cried at last. 'It's dirty—it's sordid—and
    if you loved me, you wouldn't want it
    like this either.'
    The memory of his laughter still had the
    power to make her cringe as if
    something slimy had left a trail across
    her skin. That, and the things he had said
    to her which had killed any feelings
    she'd had for him—the first sweet
    stirrings of desire that he'd roused in her
    —stone dead.
    The Ice Maiden article had appeared
    two weeks later under his byline. It was
    skilful, even humorous, but Rachel
    recognised as she'd been meant to do the
    sting in .the tail, and knew that, at a time
    when female sexuality was being
    exploited in the theatre, she was being
    written of as shallow, naive and frigid.
    Everyone knew of her relationship with
    Leigh, and would assume that he knew
    what he was talking about.
    Only his spite had misfired. A role in a
    television play that she'd not expected to
    get was suddenly offered to her, and for
    the first time in her career she was
    almost overwhelmed with work. Her
    agent, who had groaned over the Ice
    Maiden article, was surprised and
    delighted, and her success had helped in
    some way to relieve the ache Leigh's
    treachery had caused her.
    'Yes,' she said quietly at last, aroused
    from her painful reverie by the
    knowledge that her grandfather was
    becoming restive, 'you could say that we
    —quarrelled.'
    Sir Giles grunted. 'Well, he's no great
    loss to you, my dear. I can't say I took to
    him. Strange sense of values he seems to
    have.'
    She nodded silently, a feeling of
    desolation striking at her.
    In the weeks which followed she had
    lived up to the image that Leigh had
    bestowed upon her, holding aloof from
    all emotional attachments, pretending
    that she preferred her own company,
    learning to conceal the harsh facts of her
    own loneliness. At least, she had tried to
    console herself, she had Grandfather and
    Mark to rely on. But then had come that
    terrible night at Abbots Frields, and it
    seemed as if Mark too had deserted her.
    Rachel gave herself an impatient little
    shake and sat up, studying her
    surroundings. The streets the taxi was
    passing through seemed to combine a
    multitude
    of
    styles
    with
    glass
    skyscrapers springing up next to
    buildings of the old Spanish colonial
    tradition, and the elaborate facades of
    public buildings and churches. It could
    be an intriguing place, she decided,
    perched high on its Andean plateau and
    it was a pity that she had not more time
    at