Foolish Deceiver Page 2

  'Don't say another word about it,' Clare admonished. 'I've been asking you to come see us for years, but you've always been too involved in this project or that to get away. Greg and I are delighted that you were finally able to take us up on our invitation.'

  'Well, I didn't have anything to stop me this time,' she replied, unable to keep bitterness from colouring her tones. Clare gave her a considering look and Allie quickly turned her head to look out of the window. The rain had stopped, and a watery sun was starting to emerge from behind the clouds. The front of the Evanses' house overlooked the Strait of Georgia and afforded a sweeping view of the seascape. The guestroom, however, overlooked the back garden, and beyond it the rain forest. Majestic Douglas fir trees with rainwashed foliage, tipped with the bright green of new growth, towered over cedars, their great looping boughs festooned with honeysuckle. Bright patches of palest green announced dogwood in bloom, and the cloying perfume of Saskatoon bushes permeated the air.

  The forest floor was a jungle of vegetation, ferns and shrubs competing with bushes and young trees. It would be easy to get lost in there, Allie thought, wondering if maybe that wasn't what she wanted from life right now—to lose herself for a while.

  'So why aren't you involved in a project right now?' the older woman asked. Allie turned back to her and gave her a faint smile, riot resenting the probing question. She'd known Clare since their college days, and the woman was one of the few friends she'd made during that period of her life. She'd been so very much younger than everyone else then that it hadn't been easy to make friends. The professors had treated her as something of a freak, and the other students either resented her superior intelligence or dismissed her as a pesky kid.

  Clare hadn't reacted in either of those ways. Popular and extrovert, she had been a mediocre student who'd come to university mainly for the social rather than the intellectual opportunities. Five years older than Allie, the fun-loving brunette and the sober, introverted teenager had made an odd pair. However, from their first meeting, Clare had taken the gangling adolescent who'd come to tutor her in first-year mathematics under her wing. She'd been one of the few people to see that, despite her high IQ, Allie had none the less been a lonely child struggling to survive in an adult world.

  'I've been making a fool of myself over a man,' Allie blurted out, her mouth twisting in self-disgust.

  Although it wasn't funny, Clare smiled faintly, as Allie's expression was so strongly reminiscent of the young girl she had befriended years earlier. Aside from her outstanding brainpower, Allie had always been remarkably conscientious. During college she'd always felt incredibly guilty whenever Clare had coaxed her away from her books in pursuit of something less uplifting—the complete opposite of Clare's own attitude towards studying!

  'Well, you're not the first woman to do that!' she assured her, controlling her amusement.

  'No, I suppose not,' Allie admitted. She gestured helplessly with her hands, then linked them in her lap and stared down at them.

  'So, you got hurt,' Clare murmured sympathetically.

  Allie sat motionless for several moments before meeting Clare's gaze. 'The pathetic thing is that I don't know if I did or not. I'm angry and my ego's bruised, but, more than anything, I think I'm disgusted with myself for being such a fool!'

  'Why don't you tell me about it?'

  Allie pushed her hand through her hair, brushing it away from her forehead, before speaking. 'About eight months ago, I got a new assistant at the Institute. His name was Kevin Alderson. Right from the start, we worked really well together. I've had problems in the past with some of the people who've worked under me. If they don't resent me as their chief because I'm a woman, it's because I'm usually much younger than they are. I didn't have any of those problems with Kevin, though.' She shrugged, momentarily falling silent.

  'So go on, what happened? Did he make a pass at you?' Clare prompted.

  Allie gave her a wry grimace. 'Nothing so obvious. It all started very casually—we worked late one night and he suggested we have dinner together when we'd finished. It got to be a regular thing after a while, then he started asking me out at other times.'

  'So you dated him?'

  'I know it doesn't sound like a very big deal, but it was to me. I've never had any real social life until I met Kevin. At college I was just a kid, and when I went to work at the Institute I was too busy to worry about having a love-life. Besides, most of the men working there are married or old enough to be my father. Kevin was different, though. He's in his early thirties, good-looking, single—a really eligible bachelor, and I haven't been around those very often. Anyway, to cut a long story short, I started formulating all these big day-dreams about love and marriage and happy-ever-afters, only that wasn't what he was looking for at all.'

  Allie fell silent, turning to gaze out of the window again. She suspected she hadn't really loved Kevin, but had been more in love with the idea of loving him and making her life with him. Until he'd come along, she hadn't realised just how much she wanted the things other women had: a husband, a home, a family. They had never seemed attainable until Kevin had shown an interest in her. Since he'd left her, that kind of future had moved right back into the realms of the impossible, and she thought maybe that hurt more than his perfidy.

  'There must be more to the story than that,' Clare interrupted her thoughts. 'You may be inexperienced, Allie, but with your intelligence you wouldn't build up that kind of expectation from a few dates. He must have given you some encouragement.'

  Reluctantly, Allie dragged her eyes from the scene outside and back to her friend. 'I'm ashamed to tell you all the gory details. I was so stupid!'

  'Spill it,' Clare coaxed.

  'I slept with him!' She held the other woman's eyes for a moment, then dropped her gaze to the spread covering the bed. Distractedly, she fingered one of the tufts of chenille. 'We went to this conference. The booking was for a two-bedroom suite, but we only used one of the bedrooms ...' She gestured rather helplessly. 'I wish that I could say I was carried away on a tide of passion or something, but I wasn't. Sharing a room with Kevin just seemed the right thing to do. I mean, here I was, a twenty-four-year-old virgin ... it seemed about time I climbed out of the Victorian era. Only, mentally, I don't think that I did.

  I thought because he made love to me that meant he loved me—and because I agreed to it, I must love him. I was being hopelessly naive.' Allie felt a tight band of pain compressing her chest, stifling further speech.

  Clare moved to sit on the bed beside her, covering Allie's restless fingers with her own. 'Hey, come on, you obviously didn't force him to make love to you.'

  'He hinted at it later,' Allie muttered bitterly.

  'What?'

  'He suggested I'd blackmailed him into ... to—er—sleeping with me.' She took a deep breath, forcing back the threatening tears. 'I mean, I was his boss—how could he turn me down?'

  'The louse!' Clare exclaimed vehemently. 'He told you this when you got back to the Institute?'

  'Not right away. When we first came back, I was still living in a fool's paradise—all starry-eyed and full of plans. I thought ... I thought that weekend we'd just sort of anticipated marriage ... I hadn't realised yet that it was nothing but a one-night stand. Anyway, he didn't make love to me again, but we still went out, he took me places. Then, one day, the bomb fell.' The last word caught on a sob and Clare squeezed her hand in comfort. After a few moments, Allie was able to continue. 'I'd been putting together this proposal ... working out some ideas for a new computer program to be used in the launch system for communications satellites. Once I got the groundwork completed, the Institute was going to put in a bid to Ottowa to develop it, but at this stage it was all very hush-hush. No one was supposed to know any of the details except myself and my supervisor. Anyway, I was indiscreet, and I discussed what I was working on with Kevin. I had the file on it in the computer, and I even called it up one day when Kevin was with me. I never thought abo
ut his seeing the access code.'

  'So what happened?'

  'I was just about ready to present my proposal when we heard that a private firm had obtained the contract for a similar project using a nearly identical approach. Two days later, Kevin came into my office to resign ... he'd got a new job with the company that had received the contract. He was going to be heading the project.'

  She gave Clare an unhappy look. 'Even then, I didn't twig what had happened. Instead, I tackled him about us ... about all those silly dreams I'd been formulating. This other company was on the other side of the country ... I didn't want him to leave. We argued, and finally he put it in the plainest terms possible that the only reason he'd gone out with me, made 1-love to me ...' Allie was forced to pause and take a deep breath, 'was because I was his boss, and he thought I could help his career. He admitted that he'd stolen my work to give to this other company in order to get the job with them.'

  Her eyes were wide and anguished when she looked at her friend. 'I accepted his resignation then. A few days later, I wrote out my own.'

  'Oh, Allie, what did you do that for?' Clare asked, slipping her arms around her shoulders and hugging her. 'You've worked for the Institute since you left university. You needn't have left. Surely ...'

  'It was the only ethical thing for me to do. Once word got around about Kevin's leaving and going to the other company, the rumours started flying. People knew I had been seeing Kevin socially; they also knew we'd just lost a project to this company. It didn't take them long to start putting two and two together.'

  'But that still doesn't mean ...'

  'Yes, it does, Clare,' Allie said firmly. 'The rumours were more or less true. Maybe I didn't intentionally hand that information over to Kevin, but the result was the same. Because of my infatuation with him, I cost us what could have been a lucrative contract. My job with the Institute was an important position, a position of trust ... I violated that trust.'

  'I don't think you should have left,' her friend argued. 'It really wasn't your fault that you were taken in by this Kevin. I'm sure you could have explained.'

  Allie shook her head, dismissing Clare's arguments. 'At that point, I didn't really care. I wanted to get away from the Institute anyway, to get away from all the people who knew about me and Kevin ... to get away from being Allison Jennings Smith, B.Sc., M.Sc., Ph.D.!'

  Silence filled the room as Allie sat huddled on the bed, blinking back the tears that insisted on gathering in her eyes. Her friend's arm was firm and warm across her back, lending comfort, and after a few minutes she regained control.

  'So what are your plans?' Clare asked, letting her arm fall as she saw that Allie was recovering.

  The younger girl shrugged. 'I'm not sure. I'd like to stay here for a few days, if you'll have me.' The sun was streaming in the window and once again Allie's eyes were drawn to the view outside. 'This is beautiful country. If I could find a place to rent around here, I wouldn't mind staying the summer. I don't need to look for another job right away.'

  'Why don't you stay here, then?'

  Allie sighed. 'It's an idea, but I think I'd like to go somewhere where nobody knows me. Somewhere where I wouldn't be Dr Smith and could live as an ordinary person.' She hesitated, nibbling her lower lip. The Institute was located in a small prairie town, and everyone knew her background. She'd never had a chance to be anything other than Dr Allison Smith, brilliant mathematician. The stranger who had helped her with her car earlier that day came into her mind. He'd been churlish, rude—called her stupid, no less!—but he'd also said she was beautiful. He'd seen her as a woman and not some freak of nature—but then, he hadn't known who she was.

  'You can do that here,' Clare's voice intruded into her thoughts. 'Greg and I are the only ones who know you. We don't need to advertise your background. In fact ...' The brunette eyed her thoughtfully for a moment, a speculative gleam lighting her bright blue eyes. 'I think this thing with Kevin hit you so hard because you just don't know anything about men. What you need is some experience!'

  'I've just got some,' Allie reminded her sardonically. 'I don't think I'm that keen on rushing out to get any more just yet.'

  'But you must!' the older girl declared. 'It's like falling off a horse—if you don't get back on right away you'll lose your nerve. All men aren't like this Kevin, and you just need to find yourself a better one.'

  'Life isn't quite that simple, Clare. For one thing, most men don't want anything to do with a woman who's smarter than they are—their egos can't handle it.'

  'Then we won't let them know your IQ!' Clare enthused, undeterred by Allie's statement. Her eyes were glowing with excitement as she shifted on the bed to study the other girl's face and figure. 'You've got a lot of potential—you just haven't exploited it. With a little help from me, you're going to become the sexiest bombshell that's ever hit the men of this island. And when they're all swarming about you, I'm not going to let you scare them off with that computer-like brain of yours. You're going to play dumb!'

  Allie gave her friend a doubtful look—Clare always did come up with the wildest schemes. 'How am I supposed to carry that off? I'm no actress. I think it's this idea that's dumb.'

  'It'll work great, it'll be fun,' Clare insisted. She reached out and fingered a strand of Allie's hair. 'Aren't we lucky that your hair is already blonde?'

  The comment startled Allie, reminding her of her rescuer. Maybe Clare's crazy idea would work. After all, one person in the world already thought she was a 'dumb blonde'!

  CHAPTER TWO

  'I don't know about this,' Allie said doubtfully. 'I feel half-naked.' Her fingers tugged at the elasticised neckline of the blouse she was wearing, then released it. It fell back to the top of her bosom, leaving the shadowed cleft between her breasts partially exposed. The revealing peasant blouse was teamed with a narrow-waisted full skirt in a gay floral pattern. The outfit was a far cry from the conservative clothes she favoured, and Allie eyed it with disapproval. It made her look ... well, voluptuous!

  'It looks great,' Clare assured her. 'That outfit is perfect, so don't even think about wearing something else. It has just the right combination of little-girl innocence and sex-kitten that we want.'

  While Allie grimaced—sex-kitten!—Clare tucked her tongue into the corner of her mouth and she eyed Allie's face with an artist's intensity. 'Close your eyes again so I can put on a little more eyeshadow.'

  Obediently, Allie did as she was told, wondering what Clare would do if she sneaked off and washed her face before going down to the party—or, better yet, skipped the party altogether. Unfortunately, Allie knew she couldn't do it, no matter how much she dreaded being put on display for Clare's bachelor friends. Clare had gone to a lot of trouble arranging this barbecue for her, not the least being clipping and grooming her person over the past week as though she were a prized poodle being prepared for an important show. A poodle wouldn't have been nearly as embarrassed by all the fuss as Allie was, though.

  'You can open your eyes now,' Clare said. 'I'll just dab a bit more powder on your nose, then I'll let you turn around and see the result.'

  While Clare wielded the powder-puff, Allie mentally prepared herself to praise her friend's efforts—regardless of how awful she looked. Clare was a sweetie and, even if Allie didn't relish presenting herself to a group of strangers decked out like a 'lady of the evening', she wasn't going to hurt her feelings.

  Her smile was ready when the other girl swivelled the chair around so Allie could see herself in the mirror. It never made it. Allie was too busy staring at herself in astonishment. Although she'd been convinced that Clare had plastered half the make-up kit on her face, the result was amazingly natural and attractive. The hint of lilac shadow on her lids turned her ordinary grey eyes to a mysterious smoky violet; the mascara made her lashes appear impossibly thick and long. Subtle peach blusher tinted her cheeks, emphasising the perfect bone-structure, and her mouth glowed, soft and inviting, with the addition of cream
y lip-gloss. She'd despaired yesterday when Clare had dragged her to the hairdresser to have her long, straight hair trimmed and shaped into a casual, flyaway style. She thought it had looked a mess afterwards. Today, though, she saw the honey-gold locks with new eyes, and realised the new style made her look young and carefree and—sexy.

  'So what do you think?' Clare demanded.

  Allie tore her gaze away from the stranger in the mirror and looked up at her friend. 'I don't know what to say. It doesn't even look like me.'

  Clare grinned. 'Of course it does—the new you. You're going to knock 'em dead!'

  Allie turned back to her reflection, half expecting the image to have altered. She'd been incredibly flattered when that strange man had called her beautiful—although in her heart she hadn't really believed him. Studying her face now, though, she decided that there just might be a grain of truth in what he'd said.

  She heard Clare sigh, and glanced up to see the other woman watching her. Her expression was very much the same as Michelangelo's must have been after he'd placed the last brushstroke on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. Allie felt her lips twitching with amusement.

  'I know just the fellow for you,' Clare mused. 'Linc Summerville moved into the neighbourhood last fall. He's a widower, and every single woman and quite a few of the married ones have been chasing him ever since. When he gets a look at you, I think he might just decide to stop running!'

  Allie's amusement was pushed out by a creeping chill—probably originating at her feet! Clare's comment brought to the fore just exactly what this transformation was all in aid of. 'You know, Clare,' she began tentatively, 'you did a super job fixing me up, but even though I look better, I don't think I'm the femme fatale type. This Linc what's-his-name and all those other single men you've invited to this party ...' She shook her head. 'Even if they are attracted by the "new me" ... what am I supposed to do then? I'm not a flirt. I won't know what to say to them.'