Shadows in the Limelight Read online

  The music ended and the orchestra announced that they would be taking a break. Meekly, Catherine followed Kent back to the table, wishing they did not have to continue their conversation. He helped her into her chair, then returned to his own. ‘We dance well together, Cat,’ he murmured. ‘We could do a lot of things well together. Will you do as I ask?’ he went on, his persistence wearing her down.

  ‘I’ll let you introduce me to your friends, Kent. But don’t ask me to appear professionally, because I won’t do it. Understand?’ He nodded, then gave her an encouraging smile. With a sinking sensation she wondered just what she had let herself in for. Did she really think she would get over him by continuing to see him, or was it simply that she couldn’t bear the thought of letting him go?

  For pride’s sake, Catherine pretended to enjoy the remainder of the evening with Kent, although depression wrapped round her like a shroud. Having gained her agreement to his plans, he seemed content to allow the subject to drop, much to her relief. But she was inordinately thankful when they finally left the restaurant and Kent escorted her to his car to take her home. Neither of them spoke on the journey, and within a few minutes they had arrived at her apartment.

  After switching off the engine, Kent shifted in his seat as though to get out. Hurriedly Catherine said, ‘Don’t bother seeing me in.’ She wanted desperately to be alone. She reached down and fumbled with the door handle, flinching in startled reaction when Kent’s arm came across to stop her. It brushed against her breasts with intimate pressure and she shrank back against the seat.

  ‘Aren’t you going to invite me in for coffee?’ His expression was unreadable in the dim glow from the street lamps, but she sensed his surprise.

  Her nerves were strung out like high tension wires and they started to snap. He wanted to use her, trade on her name to help his career, and suddenly, anger blazed. He wanted to make love to her as though nothing had changed! Perhaps it hadn’t for him but for her—His arm was resting across her, his hand on her thigh, and abruptly, she knocked it away. ‘No, I’m not. We made an agreement tonight. You’re going to help me with my business and I’ll help you with your career. It’s a business arrangement, coffee isn’t part of it.’

  Kent leaned back in his seat, his eyes watchful. Catherine tried to steady her breathing. ‘I thought you understood,’ he said presently, impatience evident in his tone. ‘Just because we’ve agreed to help one another, it doesn’t mean we’re not friends any more.’

  ‘You stopped being my friend when you insisted I be Cat Devlin,’ Catherine said, reaching down to find the door handle. ‘I said I would do it, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it—or you.’

  Kent made an irritated sound in his throat, and Catherine knew she had angered him. Suddenly Kent’s arms were on her shoulders, roughly turning her to face him. ‘I am your friend, whether you believe it or not. You are Cat Devlin, and it’s about time somebody made you face it. For five years you’ve been wallowing in self-pity because your brother died. Well, lots of people lose someone they love. It’s about time you stopped playing the role of the self-exiled martyr and grew up.’ His eyes glimmered dangerously in a mask of anger, then his mouth came down on hers, brutally crushing her lips. It was a kiss designed to punish, to hurt. The pressure forced her head back until her neck felt as though it would snap. She tried to struggle free, but the hard steel bands of his arms kept her firmly in check.

  Finally she gave in and passively submitted to him. Sensing her weakening, Kent eased the pressure on her lips but did not end the contact. Treacherously her blood began to warm. Desire flickered, then flamed within her, betraying her will. His mouth moved gently over hers, coaxing and seductive, his tongue teasing her lips until they parted in unwilling surrender. Kent lifted his head and stared down at her, his face grim as he took in her dazed expression, her brown eyes softly luminous with awakened desire.

  Hot colour flooded her cheeks as she tried to break away. He held her closely in his embrace, and she spluttered, ‘Let me go!’ Her eyes, black with hostility, clashed with his in the dimly lit car. ‘The deal’s off!’ He held her gaze for a moment, and when his arms slackened their hold, Catherine jerked away from him. Wrenching the door open, she scrambled out on to the pavement and turned to glare at him. ‘Goodbye, Mr. Latimer. Forgive me if I don’t say it’s been a pleasure knowing you.’

  ‘Wait, Cat!’ he called to her as she turned to stalk away. She heard his door slam and he came around the front of the car. He crossed to her, determination written in every line of his face. He grasped her upper arms in a firm but gentle grip, his eyes capturing hers in a steady gaze. ‘I know I behaved badly just now. I shouldn’t have lost my temper like that. I’ll make it up to you ... I promise. I won’t touch you again unless you want me to.’ His hands dropped to his side. ‘Please ... come with me tomorrow night?’

  She had to tip her head back to look up at him. His face was gilded with the sulphur glow of the street light, his hair rumpled with one lock falling across his forehead stirring memories of Casey. Damn Kent, she cursed him. ‘You’ll leave me alone?’ she asked crossly.

  ‘I promise, Cat.’

  ‘And you’ll stop prying into my life as Cat Devlin?’

  He nodded after a slight hesitation and she capitulated. ‘OK.’ Before she could change her mind, he left her. She stood watching as he got back into the car and started the engine, then turned slowly towards the entrance to her apartment as he drove away.

  She had been genuinely fond of Nancy, but when the girl had probed too insistently into the past, Catherine had let her go out of her life with regret but also resignation. Why couldn’t she let Kent go as well? Unable to delude herself any longer, she knew she had the answer to that question. She just wished she had the answer to why she had let herself fall in love with him.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  THE view had been one of the main factors in Kent’s decision to locate his office in this room. On clear days, he could look out over Stanley Park and could almost forget he worked in the downtown area of a major city. At other times he would watch the freight traffic moving up Burrard Inlet for hours while he came to terms with some problem. If he worked late, he could look out and see the lights from the ski-lift on Grouse Mountain, strung out like a rope of diamonds against the black velvet of the mountain.

  This morning Kent could find no comfort in the view. It was a damp drizzly November day, and fog pressed against the expanse of windows like thick cotton wool. However, he stared out at it, ignoring the legal brief lying open on the desk behind him, while he pondered the problem of Cat Devlin. He supposed he should be pleased that he had finally got her to agree to meet his friends, the first step in his plan for enlisting her help with his political campaign, but their argument last night had left a bitter taste in his mouth.

  He had a successful law practice, was one of the youngest men ever elected alderman in Vancouver’s history, and had a bright future in national politics. He had not got where he was today by misreading people, but he had made a serious error last evening. In the month he had been seeing her, he had waged a subtle campaign. Choosing his words carefully, he had gained her interest and finally her enthusiasm for his career ambitions.

  During that time, he had also become aware that she was almost neurotic about concealing her identity as Cat Devlin, but had thought it a problem easily overcome. They would discuss her past, bring everything out into the open and then he would play his ace. He was aware of her feelings for him. Maybe she wasn’t in love with him, but she was emotionally involved. He would use those tender feelings to gain her co-operation. What woman could resist an appeal for help from the man she desired?

  In an angry gesture, he beat his fist against the arm of his chair. Nothing had gone as planned. She had frozen out his questions about her life as Cat Devlin, her reasons for abandoning her singing career. He knew little more about her now than before.

  Finally in frustration he had moved on to t
he second stage of his campaign to win her co-operation. Kent frowned. Had he been wrong about how she felt about him? Though she had admitted her fondness for him, later she had insisted their relationship was solely a business one and that she had been seeing him only in hopes of benefiting her florist’s shop, though he wasn’t too sure if she meant that or whether it had simply been a defence. And if she were emotionally attached to him, wouldn’t she have seen his point of view? Surely she must realise that a man in his position couldn’t afford to conduct his social life out of the public eye? People were curious about him, it was only natural. If he wanted to represent them, they had a right to know about his private life.

  He was almost relieved when the office intercom buzzed, interrupting his thoughts. Swivelling in his chair, Kent reached over and answered it.

  ‘Mr. Latimer, Mr. Castle is here to see you.’ His secretary’s voice sounded faintly metallic as it came to him through the speaker.

  ‘Good, send him in and bring us some coffee, please. Then you can take care of that little errand for me,’ Kent said. As he waited for Peter, he smiled slightly, thinking of Miss Hamilton’s errand. Cat’s suggestion that they had a business agreement and nothing more had infuriated him last night. He didn’t like feeling he had to resort to buying someone’s support. This morning, though, he had decided to use it to his advantage. He would play the game by her rules, but he was going to make certain she was under an obligation to him so she couldn’t change her mind.

  The door to his office opened and Kent stood up to greet his friend, waving him into a chair. While they waited for Miss Hamilton to-bring their coffee, they discussed the appalling weather and wondered if they would have to wait for spring before they finally saw the sun again. The coffee arrived and when the door closed behind the secretary, Peter opened his briefcase and removed a file folder.

  ‘We’re pretty well set for tonight,’ said Peter, scanning a sheet of paper he had taken from the file. ‘Gault’s coming, as well as Simpson and Stokes. Concentrate on Gault—the other two will follow his lead, so he’s the one you want to impress.’ He looked up, smiling. ‘He’s interested already, so it shouldn’t be too difficult. His support will be valuable.’ He paused a moment, then asked, ‘By the way, who are you bringing?’

  ‘Cat.’

  Peter’s eyebrows lifted. ‘Really? How did you manage that? I thought—’

  ‘It wasn’t easy,’ Kent said grimly, turning his chair to stare out of the mist-shrouded windows. ‘Do me a favour, Peter. Tonight, sit next to her, try to pump her. I run up against a stone wall every time I question her about her career. See if you can figure out why she’s so paranoid about talking about it.’

  ‘Do you think I’ll get any further than you have?’

  ‘Well, I’m not getting anywhere,’ shrugged Kent, then grimaced.

  ‘You convinced her to come tonight,’ Peter reminded him.

  Kent swung back around, his expression angry. ‘Only after I twisted her arm. I can’t figure her out. I’ve read every bit of information I could find on her and there’s nothing to explain this attitude of hers. She says she quit because her brother died, but it’s got to be more than that. I know the press crucified her because she didn’t go to his funeral, but that seems to have been more as a result of her avoidance of publicity than a reason for it.’

  A brooding look replaced the anger in his face, and Peter sat silently watching his friend. Finally he suggested, ‘Could it be she feels responsible for her brother’s death?’

  Immediately Kent shook his head. ‘I don’t see how. It was a car accident. Admittedly, it was pretty gruesome, the car burned and there wasn’t much of a body left to recover, but it was definitely an accident. A pin from the steering mechanism had fallen out and he went over a cliff. How could she blame herself for that?’ Kent paused for several moments, then said, ‘I could see it if they’d been like most entertainers. Cat’s pretty strait-laced and she wouldn’t fit into the wild life of parties and dope and free love a lot of show business types go for, but the Devlins never did any of that. Hell, they were so pure they made the Osmonds sound like moral degenerates!’

  He fell silent and went back to staring morosely out into the fog. At last Peter said, ‘I think you should drop her.’ Kent turned to face him, his expression startled. ‘She sounds like she has a lot of hang-ups, which is too bad, but to be honest, Kent, you’re really not in a position where you can afford to play amateur psychiatrist. Things are just starting to move for you. We can probably get you on the ticket for a by-election and, quite frankly, you should have your mind on that.’ As he saw Kent’s mouth press into a firm line, he smiled wryly and shrugged. ‘Look, you’ve asked me to work with you on your political campaign, you pay me to advise you. That’s what I’m doing. Forget Cat Devlin.’

  ‘She could be a lot of help.’

  ‘Who are you trying to convince, Kent? She hasn’t sung professionally for five years and the public has nearly forgotten her. You have to coerce her into attending a simple dinner party. She’s not willing to co-operate.’ Peter saw the other man’s jaw line harden but plunged on nevertheless. ‘What’s going to happen when the by-election is called? It’s going to be one public appearance after another. If you’re still involved with her then, she has to be at your side. Do you think she’ll do it willingly?’

  ‘She’ll be used to it by then,’ Kent said stubbornly.

  ‘Will she?’ Peter asked dubiously. When Kent ignored the question, he continued, ‘OK then, what about your father?’

  ‘What about him?’

  ‘He’s going to throw a fit when he finds out you’re dating her. His support in this campaign is important too. You can’t afford to alienate him.’

  ‘My father would be the first to acknowledge the value of someone with Cat’s renown supporting me. Besides, it’s none of his business whom I date.’

  ‘I think you want a little more from Cat Devlin than just political support or a few dates, though. But I also think you’re living in a fool’s paradise if you think James Latimer is going to accept Cat Devlin as his daughter-in-law without a murmur.’

  ‘I never said I planned to marry Cat,’ protested Kent, looking startled.

  Peter met his eyes. ‘Then why won’t you give her up?’

  ‘Because I think she’ll be useful in my campaign,’ Kent maintained.

  ‘You’re not in love with her?’

  ‘I am not in love with her,’ Kent stated firmly, but Peter couldn’t help noticing he didn’t quite meet his eyes as he said it. ‘I pay you for your advice, but I make my own decisions. I think Cat Devlin is an asset. She can help me—you’ll see tonight.’ He stood up abruptly. ‘Now, if you haven’t anything more to discuss, I have this brief to get through.’ He gestured to the papers on his desk.

  Peter rose, accepting the dismissal. ‘Of course. I’ll see you tonight.’

  After showing Peter out, Kent returned to his desk and picked up the top paper from the file. ‘Whereas the party of the first part ...’ He threw the paper back to the desk. Folding his arms behind his head, he stared up at the ceiling. He felt angry with Peter, angry with Cat—mostly with Cat. If she had co-operated, Peter wouldn’t have any basis for jumping to such a wild conclusion. Peter just didn’t realise how much Cat Devlin had to offer. She had been a big star and people hadn’t forgotten her. And that was the only reason he wanted her at his side.

  Shaking drops of rain from her umbrella as she walked, Catherine hurried into the Grace Building. Thank goodness for Paula! After Kent had left her last night, it had taken her hours to fall asleep and as a result she had slept through her alarm this morning, but at least Paula had a key to the shop and would have opened for her.

  She pushed open the door to Dogwood Florist’s and went in. As always, she paused a moment upon entering, sniffing delightedly at the fragrances that lingered in the air. It was one of the things she enjoyed most about owning a florist’s. Even when it poured with
rain for days on end as it seemed to all winter, Catherine always felt it was summer in the shop and it lifted her spirits.

  Shedding her raincoat, Catherine made her way to the rear of the shop, pausing once to pull off a spent bud from one of the hibiscus plants. Paula was standing behind the service counter watching another woman who was casually inspecting the display of silk flower arrangements set up nearby.

  ‘Sorry I’m so late, Paula,’ Catherine apologised. ‘I slept through my alarm this morning. Have you had any problems?’

  The other girl shook her head. ‘We haven’t been busy, but this lady has been waiting to talk to you.’ She indicated the middle-aged woman who had been examining the display.

  ‘Hello.’ The woman stuck out her hand to shake Catherine’s. ‘I can’t tell you how delighted I am to finally meet you, Miss Devlin.’ She smiled cheerfully. Catherine started slightly at the name, aware that Paula was frowning curiously. ‘I’m Mr. Latimer’s secretary, Marjorie Hamilton. I feel like I’ve known you for years, what with talking to you on the phone and following your career.’ Her assistant knew nothing about her former occupation and was no doubt wondering how someone ‘followed’ the career of a florist.

  ‘Perhaps we can talk in my office,’ Catherine suggested quickly, indicating the door behind the counter. It was unrealistic to suppose she wouldn’t have to come up with something to satisfy Paula’s curiosity, but the less she heard now the better.

  ‘Certainly,’ Miss Hamilton agreed, and followed her into the office.

  Closing the door behind them, Catherine indicated a chair and asked if her visitor would care for coffee. She agreed, and Catherine turned away to get some. She kept an automatic coffee-maker in her office and was glad to see that Paula had made the coffee earlier. Pouring out two mugs, she turned to ask Miss Hamilton how she took it.