Free Lauren's Designs by Elizabeth Chater

them.
    “It’s your would-be husband,” he informed Lauren in a low voice. “Shall we leave?”
    “Yes.” Lauren had recognized Herbert’s voice, and didn’t want to meet him at the moment. Or have him find her with Mike.
    “This way,” directed Mike, hurrying her along the deck ahead of the quarreling duo. At that moment a door opened from the well-lighted lounge and several young people came out. The burst of light clearly revealed Lauren’s petite figure. There was a shout from behind them.
    “Lauren, I see you. “Wait for me!” Herbert yelled.
    Mike pulled her inside the door and closed it quickly. Then he led her almost at a run along a corridor, around a corner, and into an elevator.
    “Which floor?” he asked.
    When they got out, Mike walked Lauren to her suite. At the door, she stopped and turned to him. “That was a wonderful evening. Thank you,” she said warmly.
    Mike took her hand. “Going to ask me in for a nightcap?”
    “Not tonight, Mike. Anything would be an anticlimax after that champagne!”
    “Even this?” he asked, bending and placing his lips over hers. Lauren opened her mouth to comment and found herself relishing the pressure and warmth and flavor of his kiss. She tried to tell herself that she was enjoying the faintly moist sweetness of his mouth, nothing more. And then he moved forward and she found herself pressed against the door by the urgent authority of his body, and she was conscious of the whole man in a lightning thrill of tension and response . . . .
    When he raised his head and stepped back, Lauren was dizzy. She tried to smile nonchalantly, but the glinting look in his eyes told her he was not deceived.
    “Thank you ,” he said quietly.
    She watched his broad shoulders moving off down the corridor. Once he passed directly under a ceiling light, and his dark hair gleamed for a moment. She fumbled for her key amid the packed mass of quarters and opened the door.

 
    Chapter Three
     
    Coming back to her suite after an early-morning swim, which had been disappointing because Mike wasn’t there, Lauren opened the door to the sitting room and found Dani dressed and waiting for her.
    “I thought I’d have breakfast with you, Ms. Rose,” the model explained. “We need to talk.”
    “Give me ten minutes to get dressed, Dani,” Lauren agreed.
    She was ready in fifteen minutes, having decided to take time to wash and blow-dry her hair. She wore a short, pale-green top with matching slacks and tied a white silk scarf around her neck. Dani eyed her curiously.
    “You always manage to look smart without cluttering up,” she said, vaguely discontented with her own rather busy outfit. She had added bangles, six rings, and a gold chain belt to what had been planned as a basically simple gold cotton dress. Seeing Lauren eye her jewelry, Dani grimaced and stripped off the bangles and all but one of the rings.
    “Better,” Lauren approved.
    “Let’s go,” Dani urged.
    The model began to speak in a low tone as soon as they were seated at their usual table. The other places were empty, as the dance troupe seldom attended first sitting. “I wanted to tell you I’m sorry I haven’t been more help to you so far, Ms. Rose,” Dani began. “I guess, knowing that the show wouldn’t be very good—”
    “Hold it,” Lauren smiled. “Who says our show isn’t going to be any good?”
    Dani frowned. “Well, it can’t be, can it? Nella’s out, and I can’t wear all the clothes. Mr. Masen says—”
    “Oh.” Lauren nodded. “Herbert Masen told you we’d make a mess of things. You shouldn’t listen to him.”
    Dani couldn’t meet her eyes. “I don’t like the guy, you know that. But he bought me a drink yesterday and explained very carefully that you’d more or less given up on the show and would marry him when you got back to Los Angeles.” She looked embarrassed. “Are you really going to marry him, Ms. Rose?”
    “That is one thing you can be sure of, Dani,”