The Millionaire's Daughter (The Carew Stepsisters Book 1) Page 2

  He gave a soft laugh. ‘I keep Carew in line.’

  Annis was genuinely startled. ‘What?’

  He repeated it obligingly.

  Clever, she thought. Her father’s friends called him Tony; his subordinates called him Mr Carew. Konstantin Vitale was making a point. Not an employee, then. And if he was a professional adviser, he was not a very respectful one.

  Annis bristled. ‘Forgive me if I say that I find it difficult to imagine.’

  ‘Too right,’ said Konstantin Vitale blandly. ‘He’s stubborn as hell.’

  Most people who worked with Tony Carew were impressed by him. If they weren’t impressed they did not last very long.

  ‘I take it that your professional relationship with my father is on its last legs?’ said Annis

  He was surprised. ‘No. Why? He wants the best. I am the best. He just needs a bit of education to appreciate it, that’s all.’

  Annis blinked. She found she had nothing to say in the face of such superb assurance. Out of my depth again.

  ‘Could be it runs in the family,’ he murmured provocatively.

  Annis was instantly suspicious. ‘What does?’

  ‘A need to be challenged.’

  She met his eyes in fulminating silence. He raised one eyebrow. He was amused, confident and—quite temporarily—ready to duel with her. Oh, that Look! Annis could have stamped her foot with frustration.

  She stopped pretending that she did not know he was trying to wind her up.

  ‘No chance,’ she said curtly. ‘Forget it, Mr Vitale. I not only don’t date, I don’t play any other silly games either. Now, I must find my stepmother. Excuse me.’

  Annis was still seething when she tracked Lynda down. Her stepmother kissed her on both cheeks, all wide-eyed innocence.

  ‘So lovely to see you, darling. I saw your father was looking after you. How did you get on with lovely Kosta?’

  Annis did not answer that directly. ‘He’s tonight’s people’s choice, is he?’ she said grimly.

  Lynda fingered her fabulously simple, fabulously expensive gold collar nervously. She avoided Annis’s eyes.

  ‘Your father asked him. They’re doing business together, I think.’

  ‘And no doubt I’m sitting next to him at dinner.’

  Her stepmother did not deny it. Another unwelcome thought occurred to Annis, based on previous experience.

  ‘And my flat just happens to be on his way home, I suppose?’

  Lynda did not deny that either. She scanned Annis’s face, clearly concerned.

  ‘Darling—’

  Annis was surprised at the gust of fury that whipped through her. Konstantin Vitale had disturbed her more than any other of Lynda’s offerings, though she could not have said why. She just knew that she hated it.

  ‘So he offers to drive me home and I’m supposed to say thank you kindly. And go out with him when he calls next week.’ She was shaking with anger. ‘Tell me, Lynda, have you given him my number already?’

  In spite of a designer cocktail suit and several thousand pounds’ worth of discreet jewellery, Lynda Carew looked like a guilty four year old caught out in the playground.

  ‘Not to Kosta. But darling—’

  ‘Lynda, I love you very much. But will you just stop interfering in my life?’

  Lynda looked shaken. Annis had never reacted like this before. All right, she did not usually go out with the men Lynda introduced to her more than once. But at least she greeted them with amused resignation. Lynda had never seen such passion in her level-headed stepdaughter. Or not about men.

  She tried to sound airy. ‘But your father had these business types he really wanted to invite. So I thought, Why not?’ Her eyes were huge, blue and limpid. ‘Starting out on her own like that, Annis will probably be glad of a chance to meet some people who could put work her way.’

  Annis stared. It was so close to what she had already claimed herself that Lynda might have been eavesdropping. Hoist with my own petard, she thought. In spite of herself, her lips twitched. She flung up her hands in surrender.

  ‘OK. I’m here to network. Let’s leave it at that.’ But she still looked at Lynda severely. ‘And I get to go home alone, right?’

  ‘Right,’ said Lynda relieved. She patted Annis’s sober blue shoulder. ‘I suppose you’ve come straight from work?’

  Annis sipped the champagne. ‘How did you guess?’

  ‘You’re always scratchy when you’re tired,’ Lynda said frankly.

  That was undoubtedly true. Annis, always fair minded, had to admit it.

  Lynda sensed a softening. ‘I wish you wouldn’t make things so difficult for yourself, darling. Why don’t you just try to enjoy yourself for once?’

  Annis closed her eyes briefly. ‘You’ve been saying that since I was fourteen.’

  ‘Then, it’s about time you gave it a try.’

  Annis opened her mouth to retort.

  ‘What you ought to do is go upstairs to my room and freshen up,’ Lynda said coaxingly. ‘That will make you feel better. Borrow an earring or something. And then come downstairs and be nice to people.’

  There was a shout of loud laughter from her father’s group at the fireplace. Lynda put a hand on her Annis’s arm. Her expression was suddenly serious.

  ‘Don’t spoil it, Annis,’ she said in a low voice. ‘It’s so long since he relaxed properly.’

  Annis looked down from her five feet eleven into her diminutive stepmother’s exquisite face. Annis had given thanks for Lynda every day since she’d married Tony Carew and had taken his daughter under her wing. They were as different as two women could be but Lynda had given her unstinting affection, making no distinction between Annis and her own daughter Isabella.

  What was more, she made Tony Carew laugh again. Under Lynda’s influence he came home from the office at night. He even took some notice of his neglected ugly duckling daughter and found, to his astonishment, that she was interesting. Found that she was not a sullen adolescent, just painfully shy. Found that he liked her.

  So now Annis looked at Lynda, who would not remind her that it was she who had given Annis back her father. Annis knew herself beaten. Again.

  ‘Yes,’ she said capitulating entirely. ‘Yes, all right. I’ll paint my face and sing for my supper. Just no more throwing me together with your spare men.’

  Lynda laughed and let go of her arm. ‘Take your drink with you.’

  It was only when Annis was sitting in front of her stepmother’s enormous dressing table that she realised that Lynda had made no promises.

  ‘Outsmarted again,’ she told her reflection with irony, and, as she so often ended up saying after a tussle of wills with her sweetly accommodating stepmother, ‘When will you learn? You’ll walk straight back into the arms of tonight’s Mr Available.’

  Only, in spite of all the evidence to the contrary, Konstantin Vitale did not feel like Mr Available. Reflecting on that exchange downstairs, her eyebrows knit in puzzlement.

  Of course, it was probably not his fault. It was even possible that he did not know that Lynda was matchmaking. Annis knew her stepmother very well. The most Lynda would have told him was that she needed a spare man to make up numbers and sit next to her clever stepdaughter. That’s what she had told the sculptor, the writer and the aspiring politician.

  Lynda’s candidates were normally men with promising futures and a shortage of current cash. That was what made the idea of dating millionaire Tony Carew’s daughter rather attractive, no matter how scarred and difficult she might turn out to be. Annis wondered exactly what Konstantin Vitale did for a living. And if she had done enough to make him think better of the dating-the-unattractive-heiress scenario.

  Annis found her reflection was frowning horribly. She leaned forward and smoothed her heavy eyebrows apart. ‘Borrow an earring,’ Lynda had said. Well, she could do better than that with the run of her stepmother’s resources. With the efficiency of long, long practice, Annis set about l
ivening up her neat navy business suit.

  She borrowed a silk scarf so fine that it was transparent, with the evening colours of an impressionist painting shimmering as she moved, and some long turquoise earrings that Lynda had brought back from Morocco. No time for elaborate make-up, thought Annis, who was no good at it, even at the best of times. So she just combed her hair forward to hide the scar, flicked damp fronds into place against her long neck and dusted a touch of rose to her full-lipped mouth.

  Then she squared her shoulders and went back to face the battle.

  Fortunately the first person she saw was not Konstantin Vitale. Not even another glamorous spare man. It was Lynda’s own daughter, Bella.

  Isabella, at twenty-three as golden and charming as her mother, regarded Annis as one of her very best friends.

  It was Bella who saved her now.

  ‘Annie,’ she screamed, rushing over.

  A number of people looked up and smiled. Across the room, Annis saw, even Konstantin Vitale of The Look glanced up. For a moment the bored shell cracked. He looked almost intrigued. But then, thought Annis wryly, men usually did look intrigued when they first caught sight of Isabella Carew.

  Tonight she was on top form, in a slip of a dress that was all shimmery curves and slipping straps, showing yards of perfect leg. She enveloped Annis in a bear hug.

  ‘Hi, Brain Box.’

  Annis kissed her sister more sedately. ‘Hi yourself, Bella Bug. How’s life?’

  ‘Great. What—’

  Lynda frowned her daughter down. ‘We can have a family chat later. There’s someone I want Annis to meet.’

  ‘Another one?’ said Annis incredulously.

  Bella grinned. She was not hampered by any chivalrous feelings of obligation and she knew as well as Annis did what Lynda was up to. Only Bella was a lot better at heading off her mother’s matchmaking tactics.

  ‘Leave it out, Mother. The girl works. She’s had a hard day. Let her get her breath before Prince Charming parachutes in.’

  Annoyance tightened Lynda’s pretty mouth for a moment.

  ‘I thought you were going to have a word with the cook.’

  Bella was impervious. ‘I did. The guys will tell you when she’s ready to serve dinner.’

  Lynda gave up. There were more guests arriving and she knew she would not part the girls until they had caught up on each other’s news. ‘We’ll have a good talk later,’ she told Annis. Leaving, she added, belatedly conscientious, ‘You’re looking wonderful, darling.’

  Both Isabella and Annis stared after her, speechless.

  ‘Why does she always sound surprised when she says that?’ said Annis eventually.

  Bella giggled. ‘Because she didn’t stand over you and choose every single thing you’ve got on,’ she said. ‘She does it to me too.’

  Annis’s eyebrows flew up. She had her father’s eyebrows, heavy and expressive. Like her height and her aquiline nose they were less than feminine, but Annis had learned to use them to good advantage to make her point. As she did now.

  Bella snorted with laughter. ‘When Mother saw me tonight, she said didn’t I think I would get cold in this?’

  And she gave an illustrative twirl. Across the room Konstantin was arrested. Not, thought Annis, by a tall brunette still wearing her business suit, no matter how much Alessandra van Herzberg silk scarf she had draped across it. It did not augur well for Lynda’s cosy schemes. Good.

  ‘And will you?’

  ‘In here? Darling.’ Bella rolled her eyes naughtily. ‘Quite apart from the central heating and the fire, can’t you feel all that hot breath in the air?’

  Konstantin had stopped even pretending to listen to the florid man.

  ‘Oh I can,’ Annis agreed dryly.

  ‘Anyway, I’m not sure but I think I may—I just may—be getting my love to keep me warm.’

  He was measuring the distance between them. He was, Annis thought, going to come over. She was aware of a little flutter under the breastbone. She knew exactly what it was: the plain girl bracing herself for yet another encounter with a man who was going to look straight through her.

  Well, that was all right, wasn’t it? She hadn’t liked it when he did not look straight through her, propping himself against the wall and laughing at her. No, of course she hadn’t liked it, Annis answered herself. That didn’t mean that she wanted to be reminded that no man would see her beside beautiful Bella.

  With an effort she brought her attention back to her stepsister.

  ‘Lucky you,’ she said sincerely.

  ‘Well, it’s early days, but—’ And Bella crossed her fingers for luck.

  ‘You’ll be fine.’

  And she would. Bella skipped from love affair to love affair, delightful, delighted and ultimately uninvolved. Annis, who took a long time to get into a love affair and even longer to get out, could only admire her. Bella launched into each one with total passion. Then, when the passion ran out, she detached herself with skill and kindness and, as far as Annis could see, no injuries at all, not even to the male ego.

  But for once Bella was less than confident. ‘I hope so.’ She sucked her teeth, unusually grave. ‘This one makes me jumpy.’

  Annis stared. ‘That doesn’t sound like you.’

  ‘I know. Oh, well, life is full of new experiences.’ Bella dismissed her uneasiness with a shrug. ‘Tell about you. Who is the man of the moment?’

  ‘Would I be here without protection if there was a man of the moment?’ Annis said dryly.

  Against her will her eyes drifted towards Konstantin Vitale. The Look very much in evidence, he was assessing Bella with appreciation, as if she were a new car or some other toy for boys. It made Annis want to hit him.

  Unaware, Bella said, ‘You know if you got a feller for yourself Mother would lay off.’

  Annis flung up a hand.

  ‘OK. OK. You haven’t got time for anything but the business. I believe you even if Mother doesn’t.’ Bella looked round. ‘Who is her candidate for tonight, anyway?’

  ‘I’m not certain,’ said Annis evasively. She had no idea why she did not tell Bella the truth. Except that Konstantin Vitale was now staring unashamedly and Annis somehow did not want Bella to notice. ‘Whoever I’m sitting next to at dinner, I suppose.’

  Suddenly very like her mother, Bella looked naughty. ‘Do you want me to distract him?’

  Not the way he is looking at you now.

  ‘I think I can handle it, thanks.’

  ‘Well, you’ve had plenty of practice.’

  Annis managed not to wince. Bella would not have understood. She knew that her mother’s matchmaking annoyed Annis. She had no idea that it was really hurtful.

  Annis was saved from her unhappy reflections by the announcement that dinner was served.

  ‘Here we go,’ said Bella under her breath. ‘Don’t bite his head off, whoever he is.’

  The dining room was a picture. The table had been extended to its entire length and covered with a starched and snowy cloth. Around the walls Lynda had filled every alcove and corner table with golden autumn flowers. Polished wood, crystal goblets, gold leaf and silver gleamed in the candlelight.

  There were place cards but Lynda stood at the head of the table, skillfully breaking up conversations and directing people to their seats anyway. She waved Bella down the table to sit between two grey-haired men currently deep in debate. It underlined the point that Lynda did not need to do any matchmaking for Bella.

  Annis looked down the table. Her heart sank. Yes, there he was. One or two of the men at this evening’s party were positively devastating but there was only one lion in the jungle tonight and she had already met him.

  He was standing behind a chair next to an empty place. The confidence blazed out of him. Oh, yes, he was much more than a peacock. The sheer physical vitality of the man was almost shocking. Annis felt her mouth dry, unexpectedly.

  As if he felt her looking at him, he glanced up. Their eyes met.
His were coldly amused. While she—

  Annis drew a sharp breath.

  From a distance he looked even tougher than he had close up. Tough and sexy by anyone’s standards, let alone those of a quiet twenty-nine-year-old with more expertise in business than men. And, of course, that was the place that Lynda waved her into.

  ‘We meet again.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Annis gloomily. Her heart was pattering irregularly and she had the unpleasant feeling that her head was about to detach from her body.

  She turned to look at her other neighbour. He was a tall blond hunk she had seen holding three wide-eyed women enthralled by his conversation before dinner. His hair gleamed as gold as the border on Lynda’s best porcelain.

  ‘Hello,’ he said, smiling broadly as if she should know him already.

  ‘I’m Annis—’

  ‘Hi, Annis, great to meet you,’ he said before his attention was claimed jealously by one of the admiring ladies who still gathered about him. In fact they stubbornly resisted Lynda’s increasingly imperious hand signals to take their own seats.

  ‘Great,’ muttered Annis.

  She squinted at his name card but it was turned at just the wrong angle. Had she met him before? He did seem faintly familiar, now she came to think about it.

  Her mind scampered. Son of one of her father’s friends? Employee of Carew’s? Former acquaintance from children’s parties? Sailing club?

  In her ear, a dry voice said, ‘Alexander de Witt. He was on the radio on Wednesday, television yesterday and will be all over the Sunday newspapers this weekend. You must be the only person in the room who doesn’t recognise him.’

  Annis jumped and turned. She met The Look full on. It had an intensity that made her blink. For a moment, everything went out of her head except how extraordinarily close the man was. How easy it would be to touch his face…to lean forward and bury her face in that brocade jacket…even kiss. Or be kissed.

  That shook her. She said, more sharply than she intended, ‘I haven’t got time to listen to chat programmes.’

  Konstantin Vitale surveyed her. For a moment Annis had a horrible feeling that he could read her mind. She set her teeth and tried to wipe out all treacherous thoughts of warm bodies and mouths too close. She braced herself.