Stormy Vows - Iris Johansen [44]
Her mind raced wildly in circles, trying to find an answer and finally giving up in despair. She would have to wait for the meeting with Chadeaux. But whatever he wanted, he would not find her as easy to deal with as Janine, she resolved with unaccustomed hardness.
Brenna marched decisively into the bedroom, and threw open the closet door. The first order of business was to convince Chadeaux that he was not dealing with a naïve youngster but a sophisticated adult.
Forty-five minutes later she looked with approval at the reflection in the mirror. The pink, sleeveless cheongsam with it's high mandarin collar and the stylish slits on each side of the skirt gave her just the air of worldliness she desired. She had brushed out the childish braids and piled her hair on top of her head, leaving several wispy strands to curl around her face alluringly, and the dashing gold earrings were definitely not for the nursery set. She had used more makeup than usual, and her doe eyes appeared enormous in the perfect oval of her face. She slipped on bone high-heeled sandals, with a hurried look at the clock on the bedside table. It was almost eight, she noticed with panic. Not that time had ever meant anything to Paul Chadeaux. One of the things that had most annoyed her about Chadeaux, when he was dating her sister, was his constant and discourteous tardiness. He clearly had not reformed in that respect, for it was almost eight-fifteen before there was a knock at the door.
When Brenna opened the door, she experienced a small shock. Her hatred and disgust for Paul Chadeaux were such that she had expected the marks of guilt and weakness to be reflected on his face. Instead, he looked the same as on that first day Janine had introduced her to him. The same carefully styled blond hair and rather expressionless gray eyes, the same aristocratic features and full sensual lips curved now in a mocking smile. He had always dressed rather formally, and that, too, had not changed. The steel gray business suit was faultlessly tailored to flatter his tall, lean frame.
His gray eyes roved over her with insulting intimacy. “Well, well,” he drawled softly. “Little sister has grown up, and very nicely, too. I'd hardly recognize you as the skinny kid that used to stare at me so antagonistically with those big brown eyes.”
Her mouth twisted bitterly. “You'll find I'm still antagonistic, Paul,” she said coolly. “And I hardly think you're here to reminisce about old times. Perhaps you'd better come in.” She closed the door, and preceded him into the living room. She was amazed that she could present such a composed facade, when inwardly she was shaking with fear and revulsion. She was a better actress than she thought.
Chadeaux gave a low whistle, as he looked around appreciatively at the luxurious appointments of the cottage. “Very nice,” he said. “You're obviously doing very well for yourself. So little Brenna is going to be a big movie star.”
“Nonsense!” she said sharply. “I have a small supporting role in my first film. How did you know where to find me, Paul?”
He shrugged. “Your landlady was very cooperative when I told her the kid was mine,” he said casually. “She seemed to think you were his mother. Maybe she thought I was going to make an honest woman of you at last.” He seemed to find the idea very amusing, and Brenna had to clench her fists to keep from slapping the smug smile off his face.
“Why did you want to see me?” she asked bluntly.
“You're not being very hospitable,” he complained mockingly. “Aren't you going to offer me a drink?”
She drew an impatient breath, and said quickly, “No, I'm not going to offer you a drink. I don't want you here. Please state your business and get out.”
His mouth twisted, and his gray eyes took on an ugly glint. “You always were an uppity bitch.” he said sneeringly. “You never did like me, did