Savage Interlude. Carole Mortimer

James laughed. ‘I have no secrets from her, you can talk quite freely.’

      ‘Nevertheless I would prefer that we spoke alone.’

      James shrugged. ‘Would you mind, Kate?’

      She looked from her brother to the arrogant face of Damien Savage. ‘But I—–’

      ‘Please, Kate.’ Her brother’s eyes were pleading.

      She glared at Damien Savage. Damn his arrogant face! He walked in here looking like the devil himself, dressed completely in black from head to foot, and proceeded to order everyone about. Well, she would do as James asked this time, but if that man dared to order her about again, she would …

      ‘All right,’ she agreed ungraciously. ‘I’ll see you later, James.’ She deliberately ignored Damien Savage, but from the bland look on his face that didn’t bother him in the slightest.

      She swayed gracefully out of the room, well aware that her perfect figure was shown to advantage in the pale green bikini she wore. What an arrogant devil that Damien Savage was! His importance as one of the leading film directors in the world must have gone to his head. Goodness knows James was famous enough in his own right, but even he had seemed rather overawed by the man’s dominating personality.

      ‘Kate darling,’ Sheri greeted with her low American drawl. ‘Where’s James?’

      Kate sat down next to the tall junoesque Sheri, admiring the other girl’s cool blonde beauty. Her own red hair often led to her losing the fiery temper that went with that hair, no matter how she tried to prevent it happening. She had been having another heated argument with James only minutes earlier, about his ruling concerning her friends. In fact, it hadn’t yet been settled, Damien Savage had seen to that. Damn the man! With James in his rare good humour of the last few days she could perhaps have managed to make him change his mind about Nigel. Who knew what his mood would be like the next time she saw him?

      ‘He’s inside,’ she told Sheri. ‘With Damien Savage.’

      ‘Damien’s arrived?’ Sheri’s blue eyes lit up excitedly.

      Kate grimaced. ‘Oh, he’s arrived all right. Sweeping all before him.’

      Sheri gave a husky laugh. ‘That sounds like Damien. He doesn’t suffer fools gladly.’

      ‘Are you saying I’m a fool?’ Kate demanded indignantly.

      ‘Oh dear, has he upset you already?’

      ‘You say that as if he does it often.’ Kate looked at the other girl interestedly. She had only ever seen newspaper reports about Damien Savage’s women friends and what a brilliant director he was, nothing about the rest of his life. But there had been plenty about the women in his life; he always seemed to be involved with one leading lady or another.

      ‘He’s very—blunt,’ Sheri told her.

      ‘You’ve met him before?’ she couldn’t help her interest.

      ‘Mm,’ Sheri sipped her lime juice, ‘at a couple of James’ parties in London. He’s very good-looking, and so masterful.’

      ‘I can think of a few other choice words to describe him. I don’t like him at all. And James surprised me, he more or less let him walk in and take over.’

      ‘You do that with Damien. And to appear in one of his movies is to guarantee success, and you know how James loves success. Damien never fails. I think it’s all to do with the fact that he writes them as well as directing them. He’s brilliant, everyone accepts that.’

      ‘Oh, I admit he’s clever, I’ve never denied that. But does he have to be so bossy with it. I didn’t—–’

      ‘James!’ Sheri stood up to greet him, pursing her lips to receive his kiss. She hugged his arm to her side. ‘Kate was just telling me you’d been delayed. Damien, how nice to see you again,’ she smiled at him.

      ‘Sheri,’ he nodded curtly, those piercing green eyes now hidden behind dark glasses.

      ‘I didn’t realise you’d be coming here today,’ she said conversationally.

      His look was scathing. ‘At least James didn’t feel it necessary to inform all his guests of my plans.’

      Kate knew he was referring to her and she felt her hackles rise. He had a nerve! Why shouldn’t James discuss things with her? She might only have been in his care four years, but during that time they had become as close as any normal brother and sister who had been brought up together.

      James was twenty years her senior, and a very famous film star into the bargain, but he always had time for her—sometimes too much time, which was when they had their arguments. But he had been very good to her since he had learnt on his father’s death that he was not an only child after all, but had a fourteen-year-old-sister by another woman. Kate had been in an orphanage since her mother had died and it had seemed like a dream come true to suddenly find that her brother was James St Just, and that he intended looking after her.

      She had every reason to feel grateful to him, and so on being allowed to leave school at sixteen had set out to become his friend and confidant. And she had succeeded, although there were still certain things he shut her out of, times when he could be stricter than a father, and these were the times she wished he didn’t take his guardianship of her so seriously.

      She rejoined the conversation at Sheri’s suggestion that they go for a swim. ‘Not you, Kate,’ James said sternly. ‘You’ve only just eaten your lunch.’

      ‘Oh, but—–’

      ‘You’ll have to excuse me too, I’m afraid,’ drawled that infuriating voice. ‘I’ve just eaten myself.’

      ‘Oh!’ For a moment James looked undecided. ‘Oh well, we can talk again later. Just ask one of the staff for a drink and relax for a while.’

      He and Sheri ran to the pool’s edge before diving into the clear blue water, leaving Kate alone with the man she already heartily disliked. Too magnetically attractive and arrogant for his own good, that was her opinion. She made a move to leave. ‘Well, if you’ll excuse me …’

      She was stopped from leaving by the firm, blood-stopping grip of his hand on her wrist. She looked down at that hand, even in her discomfort admitting that it was a nice hand, strong and sensitive at one go, and not at all rough as she had imagined it to be.

      He smiled mockingly as he interpreted her surprised glance. ‘Surely you aren’t going to leave me alone, Miss Darwood—Kate? I’m sure James wouldn’t like you to do that.’

      She was sure he wouldn’t either. Bother the man, he was too damned sure of his own importance! She subsided back on to the lounger, watching him from behind her dark glasses as he slid on to the one next to her. ‘Are you working on a film at the moment, Mr Savage?’ She had learnt during the. last couple of years that there was nothing most of James’ friends liked more than talking about themselves.

      ‘Damien, please,’ he said smoothly. ‘Yes, I’m working on a film at the moment. Do you enjoy this sort of life?’ She was startled by the suddenness of the question, expecting the next fifteen minutes or so to be spent in boredom as she pretended to listen to him praising himself. ‘Lounging about poolsides,’ he continued, ‘and no doubt attending numerous parties.’

      Kate had to admit she had attended a few, but only with James in close attendance. She shrugged. ‘It’s okay.’

      ‘Okay!’ he snorted his disgust. ‘Wasting your life away here! Why don’t you get yourself a job instead of hanging around here like some sort of expensive groupie for St Just and his rich friends? Go out and meet life head-on instead of sitting here waiting for it to come to you.’

      Kate had visibly stiffened at his use of the word groupie, and had gone on to burning anger. She sat up rigidly. ‘You don’t have the faintest idea what you’re talking about, Mr Savage,