Hot Surrender

She glared. 'Quite sure, thanks!'

'Well, I certainly suspect Bianca has her eye on Connel. She's clever and ambitious, but it isn't easy to make money in her business. She needs backing, someone with money behind her.' Mark grinned. 'Of course, she could fancy Connel, too. No doubt she does. Very convenient, falling for someone who is just the backer she needs, but then I have the feeling Bianca would be lucky that way.'

Yes, Zoe had that feeling, too. She had taken an instant dislike to the blonde woman with that beautiful, enamelled, hard-baked face. But she didn't want to give Mark any more reasons for teasing her, so she looked away, as if bored, and was relieved to spot Hal Thaxford on the other side of the room.

He was wearing an unbelievably over-the-top red velvet jacket; a frilly white silk shirt, a red velvet cummerbund and black satin trousers which made him look like a band leader from the nineteen thirties, although Hal probably meant to look like a top sex symbol. He was chatting up a wide-eyed girl of about nineteen, who clearly thought he was God's gift to women. So did Hal, of course. Most of his fans were either teenagers or middle-aged women. Anybody with any brains and experience saw past the dark, brooding facade to the dummy underneath.

'Excuse me, there's Hal. I must talk to him about work,' Zoe coolly informed her sister and Mark, and walked off, keeping her eyes averted from the sight of Connel flirting with the blonde harpy.

As Hal saw her coming he took on a wary, uneasy look. He had learnt to expect trouble from her on a film set and they were about to work together again, unless she was coming over to tell him she was dropping him.

'Oh, hi, Zoe.'

She smiled brightly, and he flinched, not used to smiles like that from her and immediately expecting the worst.

'Sorry to interrupt, Hal, but I want to talk to you about work.' She turned her smile on the girl, who visibly hated her. 'Would you mind giving us a few minutes alone?'

'This is Zoe. She's directing me in a film next week,' Hal told the girl, making it sound as if he was the star instead of just playing a small part 'Zoe, this is Cherie Lewin. She's at drama school.'

And wearing what looked like a deckchair, thought Zoe, still smiling. What gave the poor girl the idea that a tunic dress striped in bright yellow and green would do anything for her?

'An actress? Which school are you at?'

The girl told her, staring back and bitterly absorbing the way Zoe's black dress revealed her figure.

'I'll look out for you when you leave school. I like to use new talent,' Zoe said, trying to be kind, although privately feeling the girl had all the charisma and sparkle of a dead lightbulb. Then, turning to Hal, she slid her hand through his arm and drew him away. 'We'll go into the garden and get some air, shall we, Hal? It's a lovely night.'

She headed for the French windows and he went with her meekly, saying over his shoulder, 'See you later, Cherie.'

The paths were well lit by Victorian standard lamps set at intervals, almost turning night into day out there. There was a faint scent of roses from a sunken garden built in the centre of a wide lawn; Zoe wandered towards the red brick steps leading down into it, inhaling the perfume of the roses.

'I thought roses only bloomed in summer; these are flowering late,' Hal said, bending towards a white standard rose-bush in a graceful pose she recognised as that of an actor trying to impress a director. Hal was always conscious of what he looked like. His body was one of the tools of his trade; he took care of it, loved and cherished it.

'I sometimes have roses in bloom in December, in my garden,' Zoe told him. It depends on the type of rose you plant. Some are early, some are late. You can have roses throughout the year if you buy the right ones.' She walked on, staring around her. 'This looks like an old rose garden to me—there's so much moss growing on these brick walls. Maybe it's Victorian. They were very keen on sunken rose gardens.'

'They're very romantic, aren't they? A great place for lovers to meet.'

Zoe's eyes narrowed. 'Hey! You've given me a terrific idea. There's a very romantic scene in the film…'

'The one between me and Lindsay?' Hal's interest, as always, brightened when anyone talked about him.

Nodding, she murmured, 'A sunken rose garden would make a great setting for that scene, don't you think? Just imagine it.'

'Wow. Yeah,' said Hal breathlessly, imagining like mad as far as his own part was concerned. 'I could kiss her hand…that always gets the women…'

Zoe gave him a look through her eyelashes. He was so transparent. 'Do you think you could persuade your cousin to lend us this garden for a day? That's all it would take. The scene is only a couple of minutes, but the setting makes all the difference. You and Lindsay could sit on that seat over there—behind you

the climbing roses on the pergola… It would be perfect, don't you think?'

'Oh, yeah, I can see it now.' Hal gazed at her, sighing. 'Hey, I just noticed—in that dress you look wonderful, really sexy, Zoe. You should have been an actress yourself, you know.'

She opened her eyes wider. 'Me? An actress?' Was he kidding? Who would rather he an actress than a director? Who would rather be a doll than a dollmaker? 'I couldn't… I can't act.'

'You wouldn't need to, looking the way you do.' Hal's eyes ate her, from her bare shoulders down over the clinging dress to her long, slim legs. Time to change the subject, she decided. She didn't want to have problems with Hal Thaxford.

'Could you talk to Connel tonight?' she pleaded, fluttering her lashes. 'While he's in a good mood, get it fixed up? I'll bring the scene forward so we can do it here on Tuesday.'

'Yeah, sure, I'll talk to him.'