Stormy Haven by Rosalind Brett

’ re pale. Had a fright? ”
    She smiled, for the first time today. “ Of course not I ’ m always pale. ”
    “ Not so pale as this, and you ’ re tired as well. What is it—a hangover from the heavy dinner date? ”
    “ You get to know everything, don ’ t you, ” she said.
    “ Not quite. I happened to dine at the Miramar last night with Colonel and Mrs. Davidson. ”
    “ I didn ’ t see you there. ”
    “ Why should you? The black, passionate eyes of Ramon were much nearer, ” he said indifferently. “ Come and have some tea. ”
    “ I ought to go back to the hotel. ”
    “ All right. We ’ ll have tea there. ”
    Fifteen minutes later they were in the corner of the hotel lounge, and Melanie was pouring from a flowered china pot. Automatically she added cream and two lumps of sugar to Stephen ’ s cup before placing it near him.
    “ I don ’ t take cream, ” he said.
    “ I remember now. Have mine. ”
    “ I ’ ll brave it. ” He rested back in his chair, regarding her shrewdly. “ Feeling the heat? ”
    “ Don ’ t stare at me as if I were a monkey in a cage. The tea was your suggestion. ”
    “ You didn ’ t answer. Are you feeling the heat? ”
    “ No, I ’ m not. ” She couldn ’ t explain that she was weary from Elfrida ’ s tantrums, worried about Mr. Jameson.
    “ There ’ s nothing bothering you? ” he persisted.
    “ You ’ re doing a spot of bothering. ”
    She saw his mouth compress with incipient anger, and felt even worse than before. What did she expect of Stephen? Soft phrases, a brotherly arm about her shoulder and a secure repository for her troubles? He just wasn ’ t that type.
    “ Have a cigarette, ” he said coolly. “ It may steady those hot nerves of yours. ”
    For several minutes nothing was said between them. Stephen ’ s next remark was disconcerting. “ You don ’ t like me, do you? ”
    After a few seconds she said, “ You prefer to be disliked. It gives you good grounds for disliking in return. ”
    “ You ’ re mixing up dislike with distaste. I do have rather an antipathy for the callow and naive, and I ’ m not very tolerant of fools. But I admire intelligence, and I ’ ve never yet refused to help anyone. You might keep that in mind. ”
    She stubbed out the half-smoked cigarette, cast him a quick look. “ Thanks for the offer, but I ’ ll get through. ”
    His shoulders lifted, the high-bridged nose drew in slightly at the nostrils. “ Please yourself. But if you get into a romantic tangle with the young Spaniard you ’ ll find it a hell of a job to wriggle clear again. ”
    “ I won ’ t get into a tangle. Ramon is a friend, that ’ s all. ”
    “ Are you s ure that ’ s his viewpoint, too? ”
    “ I don ’ t see what it matters whether it is or not. ” She was impatient of the topic and annoyed to find that her throat was rough and salty, as if with tears. It was an unpleasant and unfamiliar sensation. She didn ’ t intend to drop a tear in front of Stephen, though.
    “ You ’ d better assume the obedient smile, ” he said with a hint of sarcasm. “ Elfrida has just come into the lounge. ”
    He pushed up out of his seat and signaled, brought forward another chair. Elfrida reached them, tall and slender in a swinging black skirt and a matt-white blouse that swathed her closely and was caught together at her breast with a large brooch of opals and seed pearls; her smooth, creamy cheeks and long brow showed no signs of this morning ’ s migraine.
    She sent a brief, spearlike glance from Melanie to Stephen and moved her thin red lips in a smile.
    “ Will you have some tea? ” Stephen asked.
    “ They brought mine to my room. Didn ’ t Melanie tell you I was up there? ”
    “ No, but I guessed you were. ” He offered cigarettes, winked mockingly at Melanie when she politely declined. “ I met this child in town and brought her home. I was coming here anyway at about cocktail time. There ’ s a bit of a show on