Lady Love. Diana Palmer

dragged around the world and ridiculed at every turn has left its mark on him, I’m afraid.” She stared after him wistfully. “His father hurt him, belittled him. He wanted Cam to be strong and shrewd—well, he’s that. But my husband managed to take almost all the tenderness out of him. And what he left behind, Marcia destroyed with her cruelty.” She shook her head. “Cam’s had a hard life. But if he marries Delle, it can only get worse.”

      “Is she that bad?” Merlyn asked, momentarily sympathetic.

      “Oh, my dear,” Lila sighed, shaking her head mournfully. “I had such high hopes that he’d settle down one day—he’s nearing forty, you know. But I had hoped for a daughter-in-law who would be…” She glanced warily at Amanda, who was lost in her doll and its expensive accessories. “…different from Delle.”

      “Different, how?” Merlyn asked, fascinated.

      “You’ll see, I’m afraid,” came the weary reply.

      ***

      The remark turned out to be prophetic. Merlyn had already decided that the best thing for her to do would be to go into Gainesville for the rest of the day while the Radners were in residence. She’d had enough of Cameron Thorpe’s disapproving glare for one day, and Lila had already told her it would be impossible to get any more work done with the guests around. The older woman had sighed wistfully when Merlyn made her decision known, and muttered that she’d like to go, too.

      Merlyn walked out into the hall in her tasseled Mexican poncho with a green long-sleeved cotton blouse and white slacks, and stopped dead when she got her first look at Delle Radner.

      Thin and dainty, with Shirley Temple blonde hair and over-mascaraed blue eyes, Cameron’s girlfriend was dressed as if she’d just been to a cocktail party or was headed for one. Her dress was a black street-length silk Charmeuse, obviously a designer model, with lavish floral lace inserts at the neckline and cuffs. Against her delicate fairness, it was devastating, and she had to know it. Her accessories were equally flawless, black snakeskin sling-back pumps and a matching purse. She was speaking to Cameron in low, girlish tones, and her full red lips were pouting up at him. Cameron, in a black dinner jacket, was looking irritated. And devastating. He would have graced the most chic establishment. Even Merlyn couldn’t help feeling a ripple of pleasure at the picture he made.

      She jerked herself back to reality. This man was trouble, and she wanted no part of him. Besides, she wasn’t here to cozy up to Cameron the Cold. She was little more than an employee. The thought made her giggle, and she hid her mouth behind her elegantly kept hand.

      The giggle drew unwanted attention. She felt two hostile pairs of eyes on her and made the most of her inbred composure. “Well, hi there,” she said breathily, entering the living room with a toss of her long, exquisite hair. “You must be Delle,” she told the blonde. “I’ve just heard so much about you!” She held out her hand, and Delle took it with a patronizing smile as her blue eyes assessed Merlyn’s apparel.

      “You are…?” Delle asked politely.

      “Merlyn Forrest,” Cameron supplied coldly. “She’s helping my mother with a new book.”

      “Oh, are you a writer?” Delle’s eyebrows went up.

      “No. I have a degree in history,” Merlyn replied.

      Delle blinked. “I thought only men got those,” she said with a tittering little laugh.

      “Oddly enough, women do, too,” Merlyn replied. She glanced at Cameron with a twitch of her lips. “Although some of them leave the halls of academia to work for striking dark men.…”

      “Were you going somewhere, Miss Forrest?” Cameron asked with venom in every word.

      “Why, yes,” she told him. “Into Gainesville to pick up men.”

      Lila walked in on that last mischievous statement and chuckled. “May I go, too?” she asked.

      “Mother!” Cameron growled, scowling down at her.

      “And who is this?” asked an icily polite voice from behind Lila.

      “Merlyn Forrest, my research assistant,” Lila obliged. “Merlyn, you’ve met Delle, of course, and this is Charlotte Radner. Delle’s mother.”

      “Research assistant?” Charlotte laughed softly, but her eyes were as icy blue as a winter storm. She was dressed elegantly herself, in a floor-length blue dress that clung to her willowy figure. Her hair must once have been blonde, but now it was white with one of those blue rinses on it.

      “Merlyn is helping me research the Plantagenet and Tudor periods for a book I’m working on,” Lila offered. “Although we’ve almost definitely settled on the Tudors. The background is so interesting.…”

      “I’m sure it is, dear,” Charlotte said, sounding bored, “but a great many people have no taste for history, you know.”

      “It’s so dull,” Delle added, clinging to Cameron’s sleeve. “I’d rather talk about polo. Cam, are you coming down for the match next week?”

      He shook his head. “I’ve got too much to do. There’s a board meeting on a new budget.”

      “You never stop working,” Delle complained. “Work, work, work. Why don’t you come out from behind that desk and into the world? You used to play polo, I remember watching you.”

      “You’d have been in pigtails back then, I imagine?” Merlyn asked with a smile, noting with wicked pleasure the anger on Charlotte Radner’s patrician features.

      “Delle is quite mature for her age,” Charlotte said coolly, curtly motioning her daughter to silence when she started to reply. “And has exquisite taste in clothes.”

      Merlyn spread her poncho. “And my lack of it shows?” she challenged.

      Charlotte’s manner wouldn’t let her enter into an insult match. “My dear, I meant no offense,” she said formally.

      “Of course not. You wouldn’t be so ill-mannered as to point out the obvious difference between your daughter’s clothing budget and my own,” Merlyn said.

      Mrs. Radner gave her a hard glare, and Cameron’s dark eyes began to glitter.

      “Weren’t you just leaving, Miss Forrest?” he asked, emphasizing every cold word.

      “Why, yes, I was,” Merlyn agreed with a grin. She tossed her dark hair like a young filly about to bolt, and her green eyes glanced off his flirtatiously. “See you.”

      He was openly glaring now, and Delle was giving him funny looks. She moved closer, holding on to his arm as if he might be keeping the house from sinking.

      “Have a good time, Merlyn,” Lila called after her.

      “I’ll try to be in by two or three at the latest,” Merlyn replied mischievously, with a glance toward Cameron, who’d already told her to be in by midnight. He started to say something, but before he could, Merlyn was out the door with a cheery, “Good night!”

      It was a relief to breathe fresh air again. Delle was just a child, obviously infatuated with Cameron. But her mother was something else, and she held the reins on her daughter. It looked to Merlyn as if Cameron was slowly digging his own grave.

      But she didn’t feel the least bit sorry for him. He was cold and domineering and obviously deserved every damned thing he would get. She didn’t like him. He was all the things she resented in a man. Just the thought of him made her bristle.

      She walked around Lakeshore Mall for a couple of hours, haunted the B. Dalton store there, sighed over the latest computers at Radio Shack, and had supper in a charming little restaurant with hanging foliage and an uptown menu. Then she drove to the Holiday Inn, checked in, and spent the night watching movies on cable TV.

      ***

      It was nine o’clock the next morning when she drove