Tall Poppies (34 page)

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‘Fine with me,’ Tony said, making to slip off his cashmere overcoat.

‘No.’ Nina put her hand on him to stop him. Tony looked down and saw that she was bright red. ‘I didn’t mean that …’

He looked at her sharply. ‘What’s the problem?’ ‘No problem, we just have a lot to discuss first, about work, and your daughter, and I think we should do it right away.’

‘Right you are.’ Savage shrugged himself back into his coat. ‘We’ll go and have some lunch; business before pleasure, I suppose.’

Tony took her to the Merci Hotel. Nina felt the fear

,gripping her heart squeeze a little tighter as the staff recognised him at once. There was an orgy of bowing and scraping as they were ushered to a discreet table overshadowed by an ornamental tree. She wondered if they were expecting him to take her upstairs and bang her after the meal.

.While Tony confidently ordered for both of them Nina opened her file. Her mouth was dry and she felt her heart palpitating. Maybe she’d always known, in her head, what manner of man the Robber Baron was. But when he was sitting in front of you it was different; the aquiline face, the hawk’s eyes scouring the room, like he was permanently scoping for targets. She knew he had always watched her in the same way, the powerful rajah stripping her with his eyes, asses’sing her like a farmer at a cattle market. In London she’d enjoyed it, but that was before she’d met Harry. The jewels, the callous sensuality, started to rankle. Sitting here while the waiter wheeled over their champagne Nina saw clearly why she’d sent Anita that opal and sapphire bracelet. What looked like generosity was something very different. Tony knew it and she’d known it, but she’d been too

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cowardly to admit it. He forced her to wear those jewels because she didn’t like to; because they marked her out as his property. His plaything.

She could put a label on that uncomfortable feeling now. It was the way Tony made her feel like a high-class hooker.

Tony leaned over her as he poured the Cristal into cut glass flutes. Nina breathed in his aftershave. She had to fight the impulse to shrink back. Oh, God, she thought, nervously. She was going to have to tell him it was over. She wondered how he was going to take it. She felt petrified.

‘To Dragon. May she spread her wings and fly,’ Tony smiled, touching his champagne flute to hers.

Waiters set a starter before them, braised veal and truffles in a white wine sauce. It was delicious but Nina could hardty taste it. Nervously she handed her boss the notes for the quarterly report, the piece she’d been sweating over all week.

Tony scanned it quickly, glanced up at Nina, nodded. Then he leaned back and read it more slowly.

‘Very good.’ The patrician tones were smoothly pleased. ‘Very nice, exactly what the institutional boys are looking for.’

‘And will I get a promotion?’ Nina screwed up her courage. She’d delivered for Dragon: once in finding Lilly and twice with the reorganisation.

‘Nina.’ Tony looked faintly amused. ‘You’ve just had a promotion. What will your colleagues think?’

‘Only to senior manager. That’s n’othing. And since when did you give a damn about what your employees think?’

He nodded faintly to that. ‘You’re doing very nicely.’ ‘I’ve set up a whole new division, sir, it’s going in the newsletter—’

‘Sir? We are being formal today.’ Tony speared some

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veal and truffles and made a cutting motion with his left hand, his gold Rolex flashing in the sunlight, ending the discussion. ‘It was a very simple idea.’

Nina didn’t push it, but she was annoyed. Simple idea

it might have been, but none of his gilded flunkies had ever thought of it. And it was on simple ideas that business empires were built.

Oh well. Once her report was published, and credited,

to her, Nina knew she’d be in amuch stronger position. She had no doubt this was going to send Dragon stock to the ceiling. At that point, headhunters would start calling with tempting offers from other firms. Tony’d have to

give her her due, pay her for her results.

Patience is a virtue.

‘We’d better talk about Elizabeth.’

The tiniest cloud settled on Caerhaven’s forehead, a minute frown as her name was mentioned.

‘Yes. She’s getting rather ubiquitous at home. There

are too few British athletes in with a chance at these Games.’ Tony shrugged. ‘So give me good news, tell me (when the Taylor boy’s going to pop the question.’

Nina breathed in. “I’m afraid I can’t. I don’t think they’re together any more.’ She watched Tony’s expression darken. ‘It’s impossible to check on that relationship right now, with the Games so close. Elizabeth isn’t training with her team, she doesn’t socialise, she just skis and works out.’

‘I don’t believe it,’ Tony said angrily.

Nina shivered. Oh God!. ‘There’s something else. It’s about Dragon Gold.’

‘What? Oh yes, her little pill. Managed to make a go of

it, a few orders from Boots.’ Tony took a belt of champagne, then another, refilled his glass. His flirtatiousness had vanished. It was amazing, the way you could almost see the little cogs whirring as his mind

worked, analysing, planning, hovering round the problem like a vulture round a corpse. ‘Maybe I can give her a few UK products to play with until we can get her married off. At least she’d be content.’ He almost spat out the word. ‘And unnoticeable.’

‘I’m afraid not. Not if I read the figures she’s been giving me correctly. She’s tried to bury what she’s doing, but reading between the lines … Lady Elizabeth’s trying to launch Gold in Europe. She’s dealing direct with the national offices, she’s talking to German and French ad agencies, and she appears to have got herself a budget from central funding.’

There was a crashing silence. Tony Savage lowered his knife and fork and stared at Nina.

‘I could have it wrong,’ Nina muttered.

‘I see.’ The carl’s voice was ice. ‘And with what authority is she doing this? How could she unlock our monies like that?’

‘I believe she’s doing it with your authority. She refers to you a lot in the correspondence I’ve seen. She’s just giving orders, and they’re assuming she has the right to do it.’

‘You’re serious.’

‘Yes, sir. Dragon is a family company … Lady Elizabeth is your daughter, and she has sold a lot of pills. Maybe they thought it was natural to expand - nobody would dare challenge a Sa;cage. It is fairly … unorthodox. And bold.’ Nina had to admit it, she loathed the princess, but you had to give it to her, it. was gutsy as hell. And with someone less sussed than me, she might even have got away with it; presented Daddy with a Europe-wide success as a fair accompli. She tried to smile at Tony. ‘Like father, like daughter, I guess.’

The earl’s head jerked up. His eyes stared right through Nina, the fury in them blazing like coal, so fierce she shrank back in her chair.

‘I don’t have a daughter,’ Tony Savage said.

‘No.’ Jack’s voice was impatient, almost disdainful. Elizabeth smarted under it as under a whip. Bastard! She’d been dropping and twisting for hours, trying to follow Jack’s bawled instructions, till her waist was sore and her butt ached and the whole world was a blur of flying snow and flapping flagpoles. ‘Left a little, then right, lean into the curve for extra room!’ He was shouting as she screeched to a halt, skis digging into the ice. Elizabeth was panting, red faced under the helmet. Fucking bloody Jack, if only he had been a little less good at the Super-G and she’d got something to throw back at him. But whenever the arrogant jerk sliced down in front of her his sodding technique was perfect. Elizabeth had watched in dismay. Next to Jack’s grace and precision she felt like a fat builder trying to dance Swan Lak.e. Taylor was so big, such a burly git, where the hell did it all go? He took those turns like he was computer controlled. Jack Taylor, the skiing Texan android.

,

‘I’m doing the best I can,’ Elizabeth shouted back.

Jack shook his head and pointed to her helmet. ‘Say

what, milady? You’re gonna have to do better than that.’

Elizabeth’s Lycra gloves fumbled with her straps, ripped off the helmet. Her scrunchie came with it and a great cloud of tawny hair tumbled down round her shoulders. Her green eyes were sparkling; Jack fought back the surge of desire lapping round his groin. Goddamn, he wanted to trip her up, right here, right now, and just—

‘Christ! I know that, I’m trying my best! Can’t you be a

little encouraging?’

‘I could. But I won’t.’ Jack shrugged; his handsome

face was glowing gently from exercise, like he’d just completed a few pleasant strolls. Elizabeth knew she was a wreck and that made her crosser than ever. Tm not

British, sugar. I’m not here to fly the flag and get your autograph.’ ‘What the hell’s that supposed to mean?’ shouted Elizabeth.

‘It’s supposed to mean that you need a lot more work.’ Jack lightly lifted his ski-pole and touched her on the chest. ‘You need to quit being late, quit skipping practice, quit playing shop.’

‘I’m doing something real—’

‘Oh, like hell.’ Jack was too annoyed to take this bullshit any more. ‘You got no future there and you know it. You’ve got some ego thing going on with your Dad, you’re letting it waste the best chance Britain’s got for a gold.’

‘Jack, I don’t know where to start.’

‘Then don’t.’ Jack’s dark eyes were uncompromising. ‘The world doesn’t owe you a living, Princess. You got no degree, no experience, but somehow you think you

can barge in and take over from day one.’

Elizabeth said nothing.

‘You got the talent, you should stop fucking around, or you’re not going to win, sister, and that’s the bottom line,’ Jack said harshly.

‘You know, you sound just like my father,’ Elizabeth said.

Jack was angry. ‘Fuck you, babe.’

‘I don’t think so, Jack. Once was enough.’ Elizabeth strapped her helmet back on and lifted the visor. ‘Thanks for the workout.’

She lowered her poles to th ground and pushed off southwards, disappearing in a flash of iridescence down the Strela black that led down to Davos.

Jack Taylor watched her go. He’d made her sweat it, he’d made his point, and he’d also spoken his mind. Those things needed saying.

Damn it! he thought.

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Tony stepped out of the limo at the airport concourse

and motioned for Nina to get out.

‘Sorry I can’t stay, darling. I must go back and sort this

out.

So I gathered, Nina thought.” Tony had called for the check right away and bundled her into his waiting car. On the drive to Kloten he’d made her go through the figures over and over. ‘Why don’t you just call everybody and tell them it’s all off? If you want to do that. I mean, it’s not such a bad idea …’ Nina stopped herself mid sentence. What was she saying? That was her practical streak speaking, she wanted Elizabeth Savage to get b.usted, and brutally.

Tony looked at her blankly. ‘You don’t understand. I’ll

deal with it, and not a word to anybody, or you can kiss Dragon goodbye.’

‘I won’t mention it.’ Nina drew back from his intensity

as their car pulled smoothly over to the kerb.

Tony’s expression softened. He lifted one hand and tucked the wind-blown hair back behind Nina’s ears, looking her over pleasurably. ‘Really, darling, so sorry we’ve been interrupted. But you’ll be home very soon, we can take up where we left off.’

Tony bent to kiss her, but Nina turned her head, so it landed on her cheek instead of her lips.

He pulled up sharply. ‘What’s the matter with you?” ‘Tony,’ Nina said, and her voice suddenly sounded like

it belonged to someone else, someone a lot calmer than

she actually felt, ‘I’m sorry, but that side of our relationship has to finish.’

Caerhaven looked down blankly at her. ‘Don’t be ludicrous. We’re perfect for each other, we enjoy each other.’

‘It doesn’t feel right any more. I’m sorry, Tony. I’ll return all your jewellery,’ Nina said.

Tony almost laughed. The luminous dark eyes locking on to his were so serious. As though she had any idea, as though there was any way he was actually going to permit this.

‘Nina, Nina.’ The fingers stroking her hair suddenly moved on to her cheekbones, tracing their line. ‘You don’t understand. I enjoy you. We stop when I get tired of it.’

‘What?’ Nina whispered.

‘You heard me.’ Tony checked his watch. ‘Now, I don’t have time for this, I’m on the two thirty. Don’t send

me back the jewellery. Wear it the next time we go out.’ ‘I’m not going to see you socially any more,’ Nina said.

Tony’s hand cupped her face and tightened. He spoke softly and smiled deep into her eyes.

‘I gave you everything and I can take everything. You’ll be reasonable, darling, or it will be the worse for you.’

Elizabeth’s feelings were mixed as she stepped out of the courtesy bus, its new gold paint emblazoned with the Olympic rings hoping to compensate for the ramshackle suspension. Monica would have had kittens, negotiating the winding Alpine roads in that, but she was used to it. You had to be, if you were skiing for Britain. Apparently not even the thought of a glorious women’s gold could persuade the BSF to part with hard cash, so the team arrived at Flims in a nicely painted old banger, courtesy of the Swiss Confederation.

‘Did you see the French coach?’ Janet Marlin asked as

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she grabbed her bags and dumped them on to the snow. ‘It passed us driving up to Davos. Madeline de Lisle showed me around. It had Ataris and bunk beds and everything. Just like rock stars use.’

‘How would you know what rock stars use? Been in the back of the bus with Duran Duran?’ Kate teased her friend.

Elizabeth leaned forwards and grabbed her purple holdall.

‘Careful, milady, don’t strain yourself,’ Karen said nastily. ‘Carrying your own bags? Is the butler off sick, then?’

‘Sod off, Karen,’ Elizabeth snapped.