it. This was ten times worse than breaking up the most passionate of romantic interludes. Derek’s words reminded her immediately of where she had seen the woman before. Lavinia White. The queen of gossip columnists. Untouchable because she made sure all her articles were based on researched fact.
There was no hole in the floor to crawl into. Leigh winced with every nerve in her body, then forced herself to move away from the door. “Hello, Miss White,” she said, sailing toward the woman and offering her hand as if she were dressed in heels and the most becoming of hostess gowns. “How are you?” Not waiting for a reply, she went on gaily to them both, “Please do excuse me. I’m afraid I locked myself out on the balcony. Terribly foolish, I know. Forgive me for the interruption.”
“Oh, not at all, dear!” Lavinia White was smiling as smugly as the cat that had just caught the canary. Her twinkling green eyes told Leigh plainly that she was already planning the words of type to describe the state of dress in which she had found Leigh Tremayne in Derek Mallory’s household. “In fact, I would have never forgiven Derek if you hadn’t made an appearance. Why the rogue! He didn’t even tell me you were here.”
“Excuse me, ladies, if you will,” Derek interrupted. “I want to see to the dogs.” He grinned wickedly at Leigh before he exited and she knew exactly what he was thinking: You got yourself into this—now get yourself out of it!
Despite the sinking sensation in her heart, she smiled at Lavinia brightly. “Derek and I had some business to discuss this afternoon,” she explained calmly, “then something went in my car. My home is in Key West, you know, and Derek didn’t think it safe for me to drive back late with the storm so close and all …”
She had run out of her words of excuse and they were ringing false to her own ears anyway. She was in Derek’s shirt, she was standing barefoot and bare-legged in his salon.
Of all the miserable luck!
“Business?” Lavinia queried doubtfully. “What kind of business?”
Leigh was spared a reply by Derek’s timely re-entry. “Musical business, of course,” he assured the reporter with his charm in full swing. “Leigh is a very talented artist in her own right, Lavinia. We’re planning to do some work together.”
Leigh glanced at him angrily but his expression remained guileless and easy. She checked her own telltale features and slipped back into her mask of a smile.
Lavinia White clapped her hands ecstatically. “Is that true, dear? How wonderful! And I’m the first to know!”
Leigh hesitated only slightly. If she said yes, she was cornered. She would have to complete the project with Derek. But if she said no … she knew her presence could only be construed in one way and her face and name would appear shortly in magazines across the country in a not-very-flattering light.
“Yes, Miss White. I started something with Richard several years ago and Derek thinks it’s worth picking up again. Actually, we’re not sure yet. We met on this today for the first time …”
“Leigh is overly modest,” Derek said. “Her work is excellent and we’re going to plunge right into it.”
Leigh could almost feel bars closing in around her. How had she allowed all this to happen? Her headache was becoming acute. She felt as if a thousand drummers were playing a march behind her eyes. “It was nice to see you again, Miss White—”
“Lavinia.”
“Lavinia, but I think I’ll excuse myself. I’ve had a long day and—”
“A terrible headache,” Derek supplied sympathetically. He had gotten his own way, he could afford to be magnanimous. “Do go on up to bed, Leigh. You certainly look like you need some sleep.”
“Oh, must you?” Lavinia wheedled.
“Yes, she must,” Derek answered firmly. He grinned amiably. “Leigh has a rotten temper when she’s overtired.”
She was tempted to slug him despite the reporter’s
There was no hole in the floor to crawl into. Leigh winced with every nerve in her body, then forced herself to move away from the door. “Hello, Miss White,” she said, sailing toward the woman and offering her hand as if she were dressed in heels and the most becoming of hostess gowns. “How are you?” Not waiting for a reply, she went on gaily to them both, “Please do excuse me. I’m afraid I locked myself out on the balcony. Terribly foolish, I know. Forgive me for the interruption.”
“Oh, not at all, dear!” Lavinia White was smiling as smugly as the cat that had just caught the canary. Her twinkling green eyes told Leigh plainly that she was already planning the words of type to describe the state of dress in which she had found Leigh Tremayne in Derek Mallory’s household. “In fact, I would have never forgiven Derek if you hadn’t made an appearance. Why the rogue! He didn’t even tell me you were here.”
“Excuse me, ladies, if you will,” Derek interrupted. “I want to see to the dogs.” He grinned wickedly at Leigh before he exited and she knew exactly what he was thinking: You got yourself into this—now get yourself out of it!
Despite the sinking sensation in her heart, she smiled at Lavinia brightly. “Derek and I had some business to discuss this afternoon,” she explained calmly, “then something went in my car. My home is in Key West, you know, and Derek didn’t think it safe for me to drive back late with the storm so close and all …”
She had run out of her words of excuse and they were ringing false to her own ears anyway. She was in Derek’s shirt, she was standing barefoot and bare-legged in his salon.
Of all the miserable luck!
“Business?” Lavinia queried doubtfully. “What kind of business?”
Leigh was spared a reply by Derek’s timely re-entry. “Musical business, of course,” he assured the reporter with his charm in full swing. “Leigh is a very talented artist in her own right, Lavinia. We’re planning to do some work together.”
Leigh glanced at him angrily but his expression remained guileless and easy. She checked her own telltale features and slipped back into her mask of a smile.
Lavinia White clapped her hands ecstatically. “Is that true, dear? How wonderful! And I’m the first to know!”
Leigh hesitated only slightly. If she said yes, she was cornered. She would have to complete the project with Derek. But if she said no … she knew her presence could only be construed in one way and her face and name would appear shortly in magazines across the country in a not-very-flattering light.
“Yes, Miss White. I started something with Richard several years ago and Derek thinks it’s worth picking up again. Actually, we’re not sure yet. We met on this today for the first time …”
“Leigh is overly modest,” Derek said. “Her work is excellent and we’re going to plunge right into it.”
Leigh could almost feel bars closing in around her. How had she allowed all this to happen? Her headache was becoming acute. She felt as if a thousand drummers were playing a march behind her eyes. “It was nice to see you again, Miss White—”
“Lavinia.”
“Lavinia, but I think I’ll excuse myself. I’ve had a long day and—”
“A terrible headache,” Derek supplied sympathetically. He had gotten his own way, he could afford to be magnanimous. “Do go on up to bed, Leigh. You certainly look like you need some sleep.”
“Oh, must you?” Lavinia wheedled.
“Yes, she must,” Derek answered firmly. He grinned amiably. “Leigh has a rotten temper when she’s overtired.”
She was tempted to slug him despite the reporter’s
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