Notorious (3 page)

“Lord, it’s …” He didn’t know what he had been about to mutter as he reached out with a trembling hand and switched off the tape.

It didn’t help. After he reached this point, it seldom did anymore.

The scene on the tape still played out its beautiful, erotic exhibitionism in his mind.

Mallory’s gaze searched Carey’s lean, freckled face. “Why me, Mr. Litzke?”

“Your face,” Carey said simply. “We know you’re a competent actress but that’s not what Global is buying. You have a very memorable look and that’s what we need for this role. Peter Handel, the director, saw you on television two nights ago and said he had to have that face.”

“I see.” Mallory stood up and wandered to the
window and stood looking blindly down at the street. Litzke’s proposal sounded logical and she liked the man. At first glance his curly red hair, bright brown eyes and freckled face gave an impression of Huckleberry Finn charisma, but he hadn’t been in her apartment for more than ten minutes before she realized that his charm was accompanied by a forthright manner and shrewd intelligence. “‘That face’ carries a considerable amount of notoriety with it. Global’s taking a chance.”

“We’re banking on your bad press dying down by the time the picture’s in distribution.”

She looked back over her shoulder. “It’s only my face? No nudity?”

He looked surprised. “The film doesn’t call for it.”

She smiled ruefully. “The only offers I’ve gotten lately are for less than respectable films. I don’t do porn, Mr. Litzke.”

“Carey.” Carey’s face lit with amusement. “No porn, I promise. Though after meeting you, the idea is certainly titillating. Let me tell you a little about the script.
Breakaway
takes place during World War II in North Africa. You play Renee
Salanoir, a café singer and member of the resistance movement. The film’s targeted at being a sort of cross between
Top Gun
and
Casablanca.”

“Sounds like a winning combination.”

Carey’s smile faded. “You don’t seem too eager to accept our offer. Isn’t the money good enough?”

“The money’s a
lifesaver.”
She turned to face him. “The job’s a lifesaver. I just want to be fair to Global.”

Carey’s lips tightened as his gaze slid away from her own. “That’s admirably ethical but Global can take care of itself. Is it a deal?”

She hesitated. “Will the role be physically taxing?”

Carey’s gaze shifted back to her face. “You’re not well?”

“I just need rest. I haven’t been sleeping much lately.”

“Or eating either, I’d bet.” Carey’s gaze went over her slim figure. “Have you been to a doctor?”

“I’m fine.” She moistened her lips with her tongue. “I’m not up to rough location shooting, and I don’t want to get sick and force you to have to stop production.”

“Stop worrying about Global.” Carey’s voice held a strange note of suppressed anger. “Worry about yourself.” He looked away from her again. “The role doesn’t call for any rigorous desert treks.”

“Good, then it’s a deal.” She crossed the room, picked up the pen, and quickly signed the contract on the coffee table. She put down the pen and held out her hand. “I’m going to enjoy working with you, Carey.”

He rose to his feet, took her slim hand and shook it gravely. “I hope you’ll still feel that way once you reach Marasef.”

She smiled. “I will. I’m usually a good judge of character and I think you’re a man who’s definitely true-blue.”

“What an old-fashioned term.” He dropped her hand and turned away. “I’ll meet your plane and drive you to the location. I’m leaving tonight for Sedikhan. If you have any problem with arrangements, contact Global.”

“I can handle everything. I’ve been on my own for a long time. It breeds a certain independence.”

He nodded absently as he moved toward the
door. “I heard you were orphaned when you were fifteen.”

“Was that in the papers too?” She made a face. “I thought they’d concentrated on my marriage.”

“I must have read it somewhere.” Carey opened the door and turned to face her. “You’re sure you want this role? Sedikhan’s half a world away and its reigning sheikh, Alex Ben Raschid, is an absolute monarch. You’ll find things very different there.”

She gazed at him, puzzled. “Of course I want it.” She paused. “If Global wants me.”

“They want you.” Carey’s smile was forced. “I just thought you might like an opportunity to back out. Everyone deserves a last chance. See you in Marasef.”

The door closed behind him, and Mallory stood there a moment gazing at the stained walnut panels. The adrenaline that had kept her going through the interview drained away leaving only the familiar, chilling exhaustion in its place.

Litzke’s offer was almost too good to be true, she thought. She now had a job, money to pay James’s legal fees, a safe haven, and a nice guy like Carey
Litzke to smooth her way. Maybe things were ready to take an upturn. She had always found that life moved in cycles of darkness and light, and even when things were darkest there was usually something bright to hold on to. In the year since Ben’s death, she had been hard put to find that light, but now life was beginning to look more promising.

She just wished she had been more honest when Carey had asked her about her health. Her lips twisted ruefully as she realized she hadn’t dared tell him what the doctor had told her last week. This job meant too much to her. She’d rest after it was done and the picture was in the can. Carey had said the picture shouldn’t be strenuous and she could …

The phone rang on the table beside her.

She tensed, her gaze flying to the cream-colored receiver.

It might not be
him
.

The phone rang again.

She whirled and picked up the receiver and said, “Hello.”

A moment of silence. Then the receiver was quietly replaced on the other end of the line.

Mallory shivered as she hung up the receiver. If the phone rang again, she wouldn’t answer it. She shouldn’t have answered this time, but she had hoped once the trial was over he would stop calling. But why should the caller stop now when the phone calls had been going on since the week after Ben’s death?

The phone rang again and Mallory gazed at it in fearful fascination before turning away and hurrying into the bedroom. Thank God, the day after tomorrow she would be half a world away from New York. She would begin packing and keep busy and eventually the ringing would stop.

The person on the other end only wanted to remind her he was still there, waiting for her.

“It’s done.” Carey dropped onto the visitor’s chair and glared at Sabin across the width of the desk. “She took the bait.”

“You’re upset.” Sabin’s gaze raked his face. “Why?”

“Why?” Carey asked. “Because she’s a damn nice woman. Because she spent most of the time
worrying whether Global was getting a fair shake, and because I felt like Judas all the time she was telling me how ‘true-blue’ I was.”

“Did you get her to sign the contract?”

He nodded. “She didn’t even study it. She thinks she’s a good judge of character and I’m ‘true-blue,’ remember?”

“That seems to have rubbed you raw,” Sabin said. “She’s a good actress.”

“Not that good. She wasn’t playing a part.” He frowned. “Look at what Randolph’s found out about her. She’s always worked hard at her craft, she’s well liked by everyone, and before she married Ben there was no evidence of lovers or sugar daddies. I think you’re wrong about her, Sabin. The pieces just don’t fit together.”

A smile tugged at Sabin’s lips. “And everything has to fit or it drives you crazy.” His smile vanished. “If I’m wrong, then we’ll have the opportunity to discover that in Sedikhan.”

“Before or after she gets hurt?”

Sabin didn’t answer. “You’re out of it. I’ll send a car to pick her up in Marasef. I think you’ve—”

“Had a bellyful,” Carey finished tersely. “You’re
damn right I have. You’d better be right, Sabin, or you’re not going to be able to live with yourself.” His gaze fell on the paper in the middle of Sabin’s desk. “Is that Randolph’s report?”

Sabin nodded. “Just a preliminary one. Randolph said he’d send a complete dossier later, but this has the information I wanted. She’s not sleeping with Delage. She and his wife went to acting school together.”

“That must have been a big disappointment to you.”

“No.” Sabin’s expression was shuttered as he looked down at the report. “On the contrary.”

I
T SEEMED TO
Mallory the limousine had been traveling for hours since they left the outskirts of Marasef when she finally saw the large white stucco structure looming like a desert mirage against the scarlet and lavender of the sunset sky.

It was all one would have expected of this Oriental wonderland, she thought. More a palace than a house, with rounded archways, long narrow windows shuttered in lacy fretwork, and a mosaic tiled courtyard that would have done justice to an Arabian nights flick. She leaned forward and tapped the mustached driver on the shoulder. “Is that the location, Omar?”

He smiled and nodded. “Kandrahan.”

“Why aren’t there any other vehicles around?

Is there another site other—” Mallory broke off when she met the driver’s bewildered gaze in the mirror. She was being a complete idiot. Omar spoke only a few words of English as she had discovered immediately after she’d cleared customs at the airport. The man had held a sign with her name and Global Cinema on it, and by sign language had indicated his name was Omar and he was to take her … somewhere. She had gotten only a blank stare when she had mentioned Carey Litzke’s name and had finally given up in discouragement. Evidently, there had been a snafu and Carey had been unable to pick her up. It happened all the time on location, and she had been too jet-lagged to fuss about it.

And it was only jet lag, she assured herself quickly. Everyone experienced this chilling lassitude after long flights.

“Kandrahan,” the driver repeated as he drove into the courtyard and stopped before the double front door.

“I understood that,” Mallory said, again wishing for the comforting presence of Carey Litzke. The palace seemed alien, and the stark
desert both enclosed and isolated it all at the same time.

Chattering cheerfully in a tongue she presumed was Sedikhan, Omar opened the car door, then helped her out. At least the chauffeur wasn’t intimidating.

She was probably being foolish, she thought suddenly. If her nerves had not been strained from the past weeks’ ordeal she would have been amused and curious now, not afraid. She watched Omar take her suitcases out of the trunk and set them on the tiles of the courtyard.

No one came out of the palace to greet her. Surely there were servants or secretaries or …

“Kandrahan,” Omar said again as he got back into the driver’s seat and started the car.

“Wait!” She took a hurried step forward. “Where are you going? Why—”

“Kandrahan.” Omar stepped on the accelerator, and the limousine shot across the courtyard and in minutes was speeding down the road toward Marasef.

Mallory stared at the car helplessly until it was out of sight.

“Won’t you come in?”

She whirled to face the front door.

Sabin Wyatt stood silhouetted against the lighted doorway.

Shock streaked through her, and she could feel the muscles of her spine arch like a cat sensing danger.

His Richard Burton-type voice, deep, rich, each word beautifully enunciated, affected her immediately. Not at all the kind of voice she expected after seeing Sabin Wyatt’s tough exterior.

“I’d come in if I were you. The desert gets pretty cool once the sun goes down.”

She took one step forward and then another. “I presume this is no coincidence, Mr. Wyatt.”

“There are few coincidences in this world.” He smiled sardonically. “And this is certainly not one.”

“No Global Cinema? No brand-new start?”

“Oh, there’s definitely a Global Cinema. It’s a new acquisition of mine. And there may still be a role for you in
Breakaway
. We can discuss that at a later time.” His smile faded. “As you can see, I went to a great deal of trouble to have you at my disposal.”

“Is disposal the key word?” Mallory glanced out at the barren dunes surrounding the palace. “You could drop a body out there and no one would ever find it.”

“You seem to be taking that possibility very calmly.”

“I’m not calm at all.” She moistened her lips with her tongue. “I’m tired and I’m frightened and I’m so disappointed I could howl. But I’ve never found any situation made better by avoiding its more unpleasant aspects.”

He stood looking at her for a long moment and then stepped to one side. “Get in here and sit down before you fall down,” he said roughly. “I have no intention of murdering you within the foreseeable future.”

“Well, that’s a relief.” She climbed the steps and entered the foyer. “I wasn’t sure for a moment. You practically glared a hole in me in the courtroom.”

“I wasn’t glaring.”

“No? It looked like it to me.” She turned to face him and forgot for a moment what she’d been about to say. Without the civilized elegance
of the suits he’d worn in the courtroom, he looked different. Soft, faded jeans hugged his powerful thighs and tight buttocks. The two top buttons of his navy blue cotton shirt had been left carelessly open to reveal the virile brown hair thatching his chest. She forced her gaze away from his body and lifted it to his face. “Okay, let’s get it over with. You think I killed Ben?”

“No.” He closed the door. “I know you didn’t kill Ben.”

Her eyes widened in surprise. “Then why am I here?”

“Because you owe me.”

“What?”

His lips curved in a mocking smile. “You’re a very good actress, but you know exactly what I mean, Mallory.”

“I don’t owe you anything. I don’t even know you.”

“We’ve never met before, but we had a mutual contact in Ben. You might even call him a go-between.”

Her hands slowly clenched into fists at her sides. “Look, I’m very tired. I’m not capable of
playing games at the moment. I’d appreciate it if you’d just speak out and tell me why you’ve brought me here.”