Love Play by Rosemary Rogers Page 2

  Braver now, she took another drag before Delight, producing a silver roach clip shaped like a crocodile, finished it off.

  'Feel a buzz yet? Oh, well, you will real soon. Let me turn the music up a little, it always sounds better after you've done grass.'

  There was a whole new vocabulary she'd have to learn, Sara thought, settling back more comfortably on the big cushion as Delight began, at last, to tell her all about Carlo, how they'd met, and how impossible his older brother was. The wine sparkled enchantingly in her crystal glass, and the music was wonderful — soothing, with an undertone of-fierceness at the same time - a swelling and a diminishing of sound. Wagner had never sounded so beautiful before, nor had she, Sara, ever felt so relaxed.

  'What's his name?' she demanded suddenly, wanting Delight to know she was really paying attention.

  'Whose?'

  'Big brother's . . . what did you say his name was?'

  'Oh, him! The overbearing, arrogant - Giovanni. Big bad John!' Delight giggled. 'Only don't ever let Carlo know I called him that. Carlo really looks up to him, I think he's even a little bit scared of him. It's Giovanni Marco Riccardo Marcantoni - can you imagine a name like that? Carlo has two other names too, I guess it's a custom or something, but no one ever calls him anything but Carlo, and it suits him. It's a beautiful name and he's a beautiful person, unlike his brother who lords it over everyone just because he happened to be the firstborn and a conte or a duke or something equally silly — I mean who gives a damn about titles any more? And everyone knows that Italian titles are a dime a dozen, some stupid society woman is always marrying one and I mean . . . what was I saying?'

  'You were saying that this ... big bad Marco or whoever had to approve of you before he gives Carlo permission to..." Sara sat up straight, brushing her hair away from her eyes, which had begun to flash angrily. 'Why does Carlo have to have his brother's permission for anything? How old is he anyway? Isn't he man enough to stand up for what he wants?'

  'I was just telling you, they're Italian, and Giovanni Marco - they call him Marco within the family, how'd you guess? - as the head of the family runs the whole show. He's the one who made most of the money, you see, and he controls everything. He's into automobiles and shipping and... you name a pie and he has a finger in it! He's rich, and Carlo works for him. He's also quite ruthless . . .' Delight gave an exaggerated shiver as she lowered her voice dramatically. 'In fact, I wouldn't be at all surprised if he's even mixed up with the . . . you-know-who. The mob.'

  'You mean the Mafia? Oh, no, Delight, surely not!'

  'I'm not sure at all... and of course Carlo would never say anything, and it's the one thing I'd never dare ask him about. But I have my suspicions ... and he did tell me once that his brother would stop at nothing to gain his ends. So you see what we're up against, and why you've just got to help? Sara, I'm afraid he's going to try and break us up, and I'd just kill myself if that happened, and so would Carlo!' Delight's huge emerald eyes that were so like Mona's filled with tears.

  'But why would he want to break you up, even if he could?'

  'Because . . . because he's a straitlaced prigl' Delight wailed. 'They're strict Catholics, of course, the whole family, and Marco's the type who believes in work, work, work and no play, and when the time comes around - and that'll be when be says so, of course - then Carlo will be expected to marry some stupid cow of a girl his brother will choose for him from one of the right families, with money, of course, and without - ' her voice quivered over ar? incipient sob - 'without my lurid past! Everything I've done - all that stuff in those nasty rags and the gossip columns and the pictures ... oh,you know what I mean, Sary, and you know I only did it all for kicks and for experience, but he'd never buy that! Carlo understands and doesn't care, but his brother never would! So you see why I do need you so!'

  'No, I don't, not really!' Sara objected reasonably, trying not to let Delight notice that the use of the old childhood name 'Sary' had got to her. She had to blink her eyes in order to focus them on Delight, sitting cross-legged so easily without any sign of strain; two large tears trickling forlornly down her face. Poor, darling Delight! Of course she was reckless and a little bit wild and wayward, but that was part of her nature and part of her charm - she just did things without thinking of the consequences, but that didn't give any stuffy, arrogant outsider the right to look down on her either!

  Wrapped up in her own thoughts, Sara hadn't been paying attention to what Delight was saying until her sister said urgently: '. . . so you see why Carlo and I have to run away and do it secretly, to throw him off the track! And if you'd just cover for me . . .'

  I really feel quite strange! Sara thought dazedly. Not bad strange but funny strange. Kind of floaty . . .

  Aloud she said stoutly, hoping she wasn't slurring her words, 'Of course you know you can count on me, darling! I' ll take care of Mr High-and-rnighty Marco ... yes, and I'll give him a bit of what-for too if he dares say anything against you!' And then she couldn't help giggling, because 'what-for' had been Nanny Staggs's favourite expression, especially when Delight came to visit: 'You come down from off that tree, miss, or I'll give you what-for!'

  'Oh, Sary, I do love you! I told Carlo you'd do it!'

  Warm arms hugged her fiercely until Sara said weakly: 'And now it's all decided, do you think you can show me the way to bed? I feel very sleepy, all of a sudden!'

  Chapter 2

  Discovering New York and rediscovering Delight was a continuous, kaleidoscopic play of light, colour and activity that never seemed to stop. They went everywhere, saw everything, ate at obscure little restaurants in the Village and the most elegant dining-rooms Manhattan had to offer. There was endless shopping to be done in the afternoons and the theatre in the evenings; Broadway shows and off-Broadway shows — the Met and the Philharmonic. Delight made New York City come alive and become a real place for Sara, who could not have imagined its hectic, electric pulsebeat by herself.

  Sara learned to stay up all night, snatching a few hours of sleep before she was ready to go again. And she learned to disco all night at elegant places like Regine's and popular fad places like Bond's Casino and Magique and Xenon and way-out places like the Mudd Club.

  'Don't New Yorkers ever stop going?' Sara asked wonderingly and had her rather naive question answered by a giggle.

  'Hardly ever, sweetie! There's always so much to do, you see! And I never get tired — it's my vitamins and health food that do the trick! How's your energy level? And how did you like Carlo's friend Giacomo? I could tell he dug you!'

  'Don't matchmake, Delight!' Sara said severely, and her sister rolled her eyes upwards in mock despair.

  'For God's sake, who's matchmaking? I mean... he liked you, and you liked him, right? So you could have asked him up — I would've slept on the couch, you know!'

  'I didn't like him that much, and anyway he had a wet kiss, like Eduardo . ..'

  'Aha! Eduardo, huh? So you have been around some. Thank God, I was beginning to wonder!'

  Learning to talk like a native, Sara said, 'Oh, cut it out, Delight!' adding quickly, 'When do you expect to hear from your divine Carlo anyhow? Shouldn't he have called to give you a report?'

  She was sorry she'd said that when Delight's vivacious, face clouded for an instant.

  'Big brother's probably keeping him busy - on purpose, of course! He only flew to Los Angeles because he'd heard the rumours, you know. And now he's probably giving my poor Carlo a hard time. But Carlo's got a stubborn streak in him, just like I have, and this time he's not going to give in. I'll hear from him, you'll see!'

  'Well, I was just thinking that it might be hard for him to reach you on the telephone since we've hardly been home!'

  'He'll call me at about six some morning - that's the time he always calls when he has to be away.'

  Delight was sure of her Carlo, still steadfastly In Love and just as steadfast in her resolve to elope. Sara couldn't help sighing inwardly as she wondered, with
her practical mind, whether such an elaborate plan as her sister had outlined was really necessary. Whether the Marcantoni family was old-fashioned or not, this was still the twentieth century, after all, and all Carlo had to do was to tell his brother to ... to go to hell!

  Since that first night they'd spent quietly talking in the apartment, the volatile Delight - taking Sara's participation in her plans for granted - hadn't said much more on the subject. Now, as they shared the same tiny bathroom, Delight applying her make-up while Sara soaked in a tub that was deliciously perfumed with Halston, Sara found herself hoping fervently that it would all be worked out quietly in the end. Delight, bless her heart, did tend to over-dramatise things!

  As if she'd been a mind reader Delight said suddenly: 'You think I'm kind of crazy to be going to such lengths to get away from big brother, don't you?' Turning around with a pot of lip gloss in her hand she gave Sara an unusually serious look. 'Well, I'm not. I'm ... I guess I'm really a little bit scared, you know? And it's only because Carlo's scared - and Carlo's not scared of anything or anyone but his brother Marco. That's what I meant the other evening when I said - ' Then with a switch of mood that was typical, she suddenly turned back to the mirror. 'I guess it doesn't really matter, because by the time anyone finds out we're both missing, Carlo and I will be married and safely tucked away in some remote corner of India! And once I have a baby, well. . . even Marco wouldn't dare do anything then because my baby will be a Marcantoni! And you can bet I wouldn't let anyone boss a kid of mine around!'

  'Well, as long as you name me godmother . . .' Might as well give in gracefully, Sara thought ruefully. And in a way, wasn't she quite looking forward to her confrontation with the overbearing Marco? Oh, she'd give him a piece of her mind, all right!

  For the rest of the evening, while they were part of the crush at a rock concert in Madison Square Garden, both girls were able to forget everything but the fact that they were having fun. Sara even took a surreptitious drag off a joint that someone passed around and found that it did make her feel more - what was the term Delight used? - laid back, that was it!

  With the rest of the crowd, all friends of Delight's from her modelling days, they went to a Greek nightclub that was noisy and lively and had great food. Sara got a little drunk on Demestica and had a wonderful time; dancing until her feet ached and she kicked off her shoes and danced some more, with Delight applauding.

  'I love New York! I really do - and maybe I'll just decide to stay here and do something . . .'

  'You're going to California and bail me out first, my girl!' Delight uttered severely, doing an imitation of Nanny Staggs that had them both in gales of laughter, so much so that it took at least five minutes to find the right keys that would open all the locks on the door.

  'God, is it actually getting to be light outside or am I seeing things?'

  'It is light outside, and that reminds me of an old song — you know the one about Broadway babies . . . Whatever did I do with my shoes?"

  Sara collapsed on to a pile of cushions, half asleep already and barely hearing Delight say: 'You're still carrying them, you dummy!'

  And then the phone rang and Delight ran to answer it in the bedroom and was hours, or so it seemed, so that Sara really did fall asleep and stayed there until the sun woke her, streaming in through the Venetian blinds. Her head ached, and the smell of perking coffee and burnt toast assaulted her nostrils. Why did Delight always burn the toast?

  'Rise and shine, kiddo!'

  A blanket was flung over her and Sara burrowed her head under it, making protesting noises.

  'Baby, come on! We got things to do. Gotta pack and make reservations, and — don't you want to know what Carlo told me? Hah! I knew I was right about that bastard of a brother of his! Well, let him find out he's not quite as smart as he thinks he is! Hey ., .!' The blanket was tugged away revealing Sara's tousled dark hair and mascara-smudged face, and Delight said soothingly, 'All you need is coffee and a couple of aspirins and you'll be just fine! I'll bring them to you, huh? And then you can listen - we need to talk, Sary. And ... and plan! Nothing's going to go wrong, hear? Because I'd kill myself if it did!'

  'What I don't understand,' Sara said later, sitting hunched over the kitchen table with her head supported by palms pressed against her temples, 'is whether this is plan A or plan B - and how I let myself get dragged into it!' Her attempt at humour had a hollow ring to it, even in her own ears.

  'Well, you did promise and you can't back out now,' Delight stated unsympathetically. 'And besides, if you'd taken those vitamins like I did, you wouldn't have a hangover. Do pay attention, sweetie, this is important, a matter of life and death - my death if it doesn't work out, and you wouldn't want that, would you?'

  'No . . .' Sara muttered obediently. And then, with a decided effort, 'I really am trying to pay attention, but why don't we give my head a chance to stop pounding like a trip¬hammer? It really is hard to hear you . . .'

  'The aspirins are going to work in a few minutes, I promise you! And while they're doing their thing, I'm going to run it past you again. Slowly, this time. Maybe it'll soak into your subconscious or something, hmm?'

  Delight's plan really did sound simple and uncompli-cated, except that - and Sara shuddered at the thought — for the next few weeks she was supposed to masquerade as her sister. All her weak objections were brushed aside as she was reminded that she couldn't - she wouldn't - back out now, surely? Not after she had promised. . .

  'It's only to throw Marco off the track, love! To give us time, so he won't be able to stop us. He's determined to break us up, and his sending Carlo off to the absolute wilds of Argentina, of all places — and at a moment's notice, really proves it! Why, he actually told Carlo that he would not allow - allow, can you beat that? - a member of his family to be associated with the likes of me!'

  'He didn't!'

  'He sure did! He's a prig - and a hypocrite as well! Why, Carlo told me that his brother keeps dozens of mistresses -all over the world, in fact. But just because Carlo is a few years younger and not yet in control of his share of their father's money he's forced to go along with whatever Marco dictates. He was furious when he learned that we'd been living together, and he made all kinds of threats . . .' 'Honestly, Delight, surely the man wouldn't dare - and anyway, I hate to say this, but it has to be said - why doesn't Carlo just stand up to his brother and refuse to budge? He can't be exactly a child, after all, and if it's only his brother's money that makes him a lackey, why doesn't he get a job?' 'You don't understand!' Delight burst out. She paced the confines of the small kitchen like an angry young panther.

  'Carlo doesn't care about the money - in a year or so he'll inherit plenty of his own. He's just worried. He knows his brother, you see, and how unscrupulous he is! He'd have — don't laugh, but he'd actually have Carlo abducted, if he had to. Or he'd . . . he'd have something drastic happen to me. And I'm not being dramatic this time, I swear it! The man's an absolute, fucking autocrat of the old kind - he belongs in the Dark Ages! It's that violent Sardinian-Sicilian blood. Why, their father had his first wife killed because he thought she had a lover!'

  'And you want me to face a man like that?'

  'Who said anything about facing? Darling Sary, all you'd have to do is to be me for a couple of weeks. Go to the places I usually go, do the things I usually do. So he'll think I'm still in town and stop worrying that I might run off to meet Carlo somewhere.'

  Sara said a trifle grimly: 'And when he finds out you've done exactly that and I've duped him . . . will I meet with some unfortunate "accident", do you think?'

  'Well, of course not! You're the respectable one of the family, he'd never do anything toyou. And he doesn't have to know anything. You can just go back to being yourself, and no one will be the wiser.'

  'It's not as easy as that!' Sara tried to warn her sister; and indeed she had a peculiar feeling - nothing to do with her hangover - that something was bound to go wrong. Delight's scheme, while
it sounded deceptively simple, all hinged upon her part in the masquerade — and how on earth could she possibly go on playing Delight for two whole weeks? Apart from the surface similarity they had both inherited from their mother, they were two very different women.

  In the face of Delight's obdurate, closed look, Sara tried again: 'Darling, do think carefully! I mean, if this man is ... is as clever as you say he is, and if he's had you investigated, surely he'd know about we? If he should find out that I'm in Los Angeles too; that we're sharing an apartment. . .'But he'll find out nothing of the kind!' Delight said riumphantly. 'Sorry, darling, but we can't share my apartment. You're going to stay on campus, or in a hotel if you can't stand that thought. And we won't be seen out together. And as for the rest of your objection — why should he care if I had a half sister or not? He didn't need to have me investigated all that much — I've never been really secretive about the life I've led, have I? No, we'll stay away from each other and go our separate ways. You'll live very quietly and unobtrusively and I'll make sure everyone sees me everywhere until it's time for us to switch, and then ...'

  Grasping at straws now Sara said weakly: 'But... but the film! Remember, you told me you had a small part in a straight film — you were all excited about it! Surely you're not going to turn it down?'

  Delight grinned wickedly. 'Turn it down? Hell, no — that would be out of character for me! But if they don't start shooting soon enough - haven't you ever wondered, sister dear, if you've inherited any of Mama-Mona's talent?'

  Chapter 3

  Los Angeles in the fall was hotter than anything Sara could have imagined, even though she had been warned. Her coolest summer cottons were no match for the searing heat that seemed to soak through into her bones, depriving her of her usual brisk energy and even, so it seemed, of her will. Why else would she still be going along quite unresistingly with Delight's crazy plan? Because it was insane of course; the whole idea that between them they could hope to deceive a hard-headed, coldly arrogant Italian tycoon who had had the wits and the ruthlessness to amass an enormous fortune on his own. Sara had tried to tell her sister so on several occasions, but Delight had refused to listen.