The Velvet Glove Read online

  'You wish me to apologise for my part in that— scene, last night?' Without waiting for confirmation, he went on, 'Very well, Laurette. I will admit that I was wrong to call you a fool; I am sorry about that.'

  It seemed he was going to say more, but thought better of it, and she was ready enough to do her part to heal the breach now that he had made the first move. Her pulses were fluttering, disturbed by something she could not yet recognise, and she looked up at him, anxious to have it over and done with.

  'And I'm sorry I accused you of bullying Halet.'

  A glimmer of a smile flitted across his dark face for a second and she took heart from it. 'By your standards I probably do bully Halet, but she would not think of my concern in the same light as you do, Laurette. That is the difference between you.'

  The admission, even with the qualification he made, was unexpected, and she viewed his attitude with even more uncertainty while he leaned back on the cushions and crossed his long legs one over the other, his eyes regarding her steadily.

  'Then—then if we both forget everything the other said last night, the whole episode is closed, and—'

  She did not go on because something in his eyes gave her cause to doubt what she was saying suddenly. 'Not everything, Laurette. I have apologised for calling you a fool, because I do not believe it is true; in that I was wrong. But I cannot change my view that you were thoughtless in the way you behaved. It is plain, however, that you could not be expected to come home alone by public transport, and since you were not driving yourself you could do little about going on to Side.'

  'So you're blaming Ian for the whole thing!' There was colour in her cheeks and the danger sign of an increased urgency in her heart beat. They were on the brink of another quarrel, and she drew back hastily from the prospect, shaking her head and avoiding looking at him once more. 'I wish you wouldn't blame Ian, Nuri, it was as much my fault as his!'

  'You defend him!' Even without looking at him she was aware that the black eyes were searching her face with an explicitness that was infinitely disturbing and he was shaking his head as if he found her attitude inexplicable. 'Does he mean so much to you already, this man, that you are determined to defend him so fiercely?'

  Her hands were half buried in the fat cushions either side of her and curled up tightly. 'I have to defend him against you! You seem to have developed an—an irrational dislike of Ian for some reason I can't begin to understand!'

  'You think it irrational ?'

  It was clear from the way he repeated the accusation that he disliked it, and already Laurette saw her plans for making peace evaporating in the inevitable argument. Faced as she was with his determined and implacable dislike of Ian, how could they succeed? Hands clasped tightly together in her lap, she raised anxious eyes once more.

  'I can't see any reason for it,' she confessed. 'And you don't like him, do you, Nuri?'

  'I would say rather that I do not trust him in proximity to you,' Nuri said quietly.

  'But why not?' The look in his eyes was sufficient answer, and she shook her head hastily. 'I'm quite able to take care of myself, Nuri, and Ian isn't the monster you seem to think he is—I promise you he isn't.'

  'Would you know, Laurette?' He asked the question soft-voiced but gave her no time to reply. 'He is— attracted to you?' His big hands made much more of the simple question, and she flushed. 'Of course he is, otherwise he would not trouble himself with you.'

  'But he's my cousin! Naturally he'd want to see me again!'

  His smile made her curiously uneasy, and vaguely angry too, but he was glancing at his watch and he got to his feet, as if he had no more time to spend on discussing her relationship with Ian. 'I have to meet some friends very shortly, I must go.'

  'Having tried to make me suspect Ian of—heaven knows what?'

  She could have left it there, she told herself, but something, as always, drove her on, and the look she sent him from the shadow of her thick lashes was challenging as well as defensive. Looking down at her, Nuri's eyes narrowed, a warning sign she should have heeded.

  'Consider for a moment if you were plain and unattractive, Laurette. Do you seriously think that Ian Kearn is the kind of man who would concern himself with your welfare in those circumstances?'

  He was convinced that Ian was an opportunist in search of a casual affair, cousin or not, and she despaired of ever making him see any differently, but she got to her feet, rather than just sit there, and stood facing him, though with no idea of what she wanted to say.

  'Nuri, I know you don't like him, and you don't trust him, but he is—well, he's my family really, and when I have to leave here, when Halet marries and I'm—cut off—'

  The hand that suddenly curved about her cheek and persuaded her to raise her head was unexpected, and the strong fingers had a curiously caressing touch that brought an urgent thudding beat to her heart. 'But you will not be cut off, Laurette. I cannot think what has given you such an idea.'

  She lifted her eyes only as far as his mouth. The strong straight line of it was softened by something that was not quite a smile, but was infinitely gentle and reassuring. 'You said I couldn't stay on here with just you and Baba Refik, and I have to find somewhere of my own. Ian can help me, I might even go to—'

  'You do not need his help!' His mouth looked harder again now and less gentle than adamant; the fingers on her cheek holding her more tightly. 'We will always be here to help you, Laurette, if you will only trust us as you have until now.'

  'Oh, but of course I trust you, only—'

  'Then let me hear no more of this plan to go off with Ian Kearn, eh, bebek?'

  It was a new situation, one she had not foreseen, and to feel so unsure of what to say or do was disturbing, especially with Nuri's black eyes looking down at her so intently. Her flesh tingled from the touch of his hand on her cheek, and she wished she had the nerve to look up at him directly—it seemed so much harder to do than it ever had before.

  His fingers eased their hold and once more became a caress, his thumb moving slowly over her soft skin in a way that aroused sensations that were new to her. 'My father would miss you so much, bebek; would you break his heart by going right away with this man who is a stranger to you?'

  From his mouth to the shadowed black eyes was a mere flicker of movement that raised her own long lashes, and her voice was shiveringly unsteady and barely above a whisper. 'I know Baba Refik would miss me, Nuri, but you—'

  He said something in his own tongue, so softly she barely heard it, reaching out his arms for her and drawing her close while he was still speaking, and she felt strangely alarmed for a second before her senses responded more urgently to him. One hand tightly twined in her copper-red hair to pull back her head, he covered her mouth with his with a fierce, hard urgency that took her breath away and aroused a soft cry from her in the second before she lifted her arms around put them around his neck.

  Her senses responded with an urgency that would have startled her, had she been conscious of it, and she pressed as close to the strong vigorous force of him as she could, her hands at either side of his dark head, stroking lightly with her finger-tips in the thick black hair. Her complete unawareness of anything but the need to respond to his kiss made his sudden distraction all the more startling.

  He was cursing softly in his own tongue, and he turned swiftly, his arms dropping to his sides with the strong hands tightly clenched as if in anger. The look in Halet's eyes as she stood just inside the room was explanation enough—she looked almost fearful for a second, her hands to her face as she whispered something in Turkish which made Nuri turn again and look down at Laurette with his black eyes narrowed.

  'Show Laurette's visitor in, Halet—I am just leaving!'

  'Nuri!'

  Her cry went unheeded as he strode across to the door, but he turned briefly in the doorway and glanced back at her. She had expected to see anger and the expression she saw instead took her by surprise, for it was a kind of appeal a
nd she found it irresistible. Then he was gone; turned swiftly and striding across the hall, giving Ian only a cool, brief 'gün aydin’ as he passed him.

  Normally Halet's instinct would have led her to leave at once, but instead she hesitated and her dark eyes, wide and anxious, regarded Laurette's flushed face as if she expected her to be annoyed. 'Oh, Laurette, what can I say? I did not know, I am so—'

  'Oh no, please Halet, don't apologise!' Her own voice, like Halet's was barely more than a whisper, and she laughed a little unsteadily when she heard the outside door close firmly behind Nuri. 'I don't know what came over Nuri, but by now he's probably wishing he hadn't been so impulsive!' She looked at Ian as he came across the room to her and smiled, her voice perhaps more forcedly cheerful than she realised. 'Hello, Ian, you're quite an early bird this morning.'

  He sensed something in the air, that was obvious, and his eyes switched from her to Halet and back again, plainly curious. 'Am I too early? I thought perhaps after last night—I felt rather bad about leaving you to do all the explanations, so I came fairly early this morning in case there was anything I could clear up.'

  Laurette was still trying to steady her hands and even her voice still had a betraying quiver that she did her best to disguise, though she knew Halet was still watching her and was quite frankly curious. 'Oh, there's nothing to worry about last night, Ian, that's all over and done with.'

  'I see.'

  She wondered just how much he could have seen from the hall when Halet first opened the door of the salon. Whether or not he had seen Nuri kissing her, or if his view had been obscured. If he had seen it seemed not to have deterred him, for after smiling at Halet with one of his disarming smiles, he bent and kissed Laurette's mouth, an easy arm about her shoulders.

  'Are you ready to come out with me, cousin? Or do I get my marching orders after yesterday?'

  It was a direct challenge, and she met it with slightly less defiance than she would have done normally, because she was still remembering the feel of Nuri's arms around her, and the hard urgent pressure of his mouth on hers. It was quite unconscious when her left hand strayed to her lips and lingered for a moment, before she hastily snatched herself back to a level of normality.

  'No, of course you don't get your marching orders, Ian. But if you'll just give me a moment to see Baba Refik and let him know I'll be out for a while.'

  'Sure!' It was clear from the way he said it that he suspected her real reason was to ask permission of her foster-father, and his next words confirmed it. 'Do you have to ask his permission, Laurette?'

  'No!' She answered with more vehemence than she realised, and heard Halet catch her breath. Recovering hastily, she shook her head at Ian and smiled. 'You know that isn't necessary, Ian, I told you yesterday— I'm not under restraint.'

  'Sorry!'

  It was difficult to be annoyed when he looked so wryly at her, and she shook her head in despair as she turned to leave. 'I won't be more than a few seconds— wait for me, won't you?5

  He winked one eye, a gesture that Halet viewed with some doubt, and grinned at her amiably. 'You bet!' he said.

  When they once more turned off on to the road to Aspendus there was already a little niggle of suspicion at the back of Laurette's mind, and she glanced un easily at Ian's blandly confident face. 'Ian, if you're thinking of—'

  'Surprise, my lovely!' He flashed her a smile over his shoulder, and winked an eye. 'You and I are going to be just a couple of tourists this morning, and you'll get your wish to see something actually happening in this ancient pile at last!'

  'But, Ian, it's wrestling, and you know I—'

  'I know that if you behave as if Nuri Bey can have you confined to the harem for the rest of your life as a punishment for behaving like a redheaded beauty should, I shall lose my temper and hit somebody!'

  His voice sounded scratchily impatient, and she was too taken aback for a second or two to know what to say. To someone unaccustomed to the manners and customs of the country he was visiting, her reticence about offending her foster-father must seem annoying, but she could not do other than regard Refik Kayaman's feelings as important, no matter what Ian thought about it.

  When he turned and spoke to her again he had apparently cooled down to some extent and he grinned at her ruefully. 'Sorry, love, but if you're going to become westernised you'll have to get used to making your own decisions, and behaving as if you have every right to go just anywhere you like.'

  Refik Kayaman, she knew, would not have barred her from coming to the wrestling with Ian, but he would have preferred her not to go, and she did not look forward to telling him she had been. Keeping quiet about it did not even enter her head, although that was probably what Ian had in mind for her to do. Nuri's possible reaction was what concerned her most, however, and realising it both puzzled and disturbed her.

  With Ian's hand on her arm she had little option but to accompany him into the huge auditorium that yesterday had been deserted except for the two of them, and today was noisy and colourful. The front seats were filled with rows of people who all seemed to be talking at once. Turkish men for the most part, sitting apart or in little groups, slightly wary of parties of mixed male and female tourists, though readily hospitable in the matter of information or assistance.

  For some curious reason, Laurette had never felt more alien in the vast theatre than she did among people who spoke her own language, and her heart was thudding hard as she allowed Ian to help her to a seat just off the central aisle. From behind dark glasses, she looked about her cautiously. The Kayamans had many friends, quite a few of whom knew her, and some of them must surely be followers of wrestling.

  She had almost convinced herself that there was no one there who could recognise her, when she spotted a vaguely familiar face below them in the crowd nearer the stage. The man was an acquaintance of Nuri's and, as she watched him surreptitiously from behind her dark lenses, he turned his head, almost as if the intensity of her own gaze had drawn his attention.

  Her red head was never easy to miss, and when Ian was beside her they stood out like fiery beacons among the crowd. She saw the man hesitate, a frown between his brows, then he leaned across to speak to his neighbour, and she realised who was seated next to him. Hand to her face, she closed her eyes in resignation.

  'Oh no!' She whispered the words, and Ian turned swiftly, his hand reaching for hers, puzzled for a moment, and she dared not look to see if Nuri had actually turned to see her for himself. 'Nuri's here! Ian, he's here, and the man with him has spotted me, he knows me!'

  'Then sit tight and send him a happy smile!' Ian's eyes gleamed in a way that suggested Nuri's dislike of him was reciprocated with interest, and his hand squeezed her tightly. 'Damn it, Laurette, you have a right to be here with me !'

  'Yes, I know.'

  She chanced a hasty look after a moment or two, but if Nuri had ever been moved enough to turn and look at her, he was now facing firmly forward, and she sat with her hands in her lap, watching the back of his head with a kind of excitement stirring in her breast that made no sort of sense at all in view of the reaction she could expect from him later.

  She looked hastily at her watch some time later when Ian suggested they should leave, and was surprised to find how much time had passed. She had been so pre-occupied for the most part that the wrestling bouts they had come to see had gone largely unnoticed, and Ian was looking into her face with a resigned smile.

  'This wasn't such a good idea, after all, was it, Laurette?'

  'I'm sorry, Ian.' She wished she could sound more enthusiastic, but even now she glanced, almost un-consciously, at the dark, proud and carefully averted head down there in the crowd. 'I just wish I wasn't so sure that Nuri hates the idea of me being here. I know I shouldn't care, but I do.'

  'Were you fighting when I arrived this morning?' She glanced at him, vaguely suspicious that he might know the truth, but he went on and she thought he could not have known what had actually been happe
n-ing between her and Nuri. 'I don't know, but I got the impression that I'd interrupted something; you looked very flushed and shiny-eyed as if you might have been battling with Nuri Bey over something.'

  Her heart was racing, thudding like a drum beat at her ribs, and she felt strangely breathless, simply remembering Nuri's kiss. Heaven knew what had possessed him in those few moments, but it was something she had never experienced before and she was almost reluctant to admit, even to herself, that she had found it incredibly exciting being kissed by him.

  'We—we had been arguing.' She decided on a half-truth. 'About last night.'

  'Ah, I thought it might have been that! He didn't stop to have it out with me, though, did he?'

  'Because I didn't want him to, Ian, he knew that. You and Nuri quarrelling is the last thing I want.'

  His raised brows suggested surprise and blue eyes regarded her for a moment steadily. 'And is he in the habit of doing what you want him to?'

  'No, of course not. But neither does he automatically oppose everything I do, Ian. We get along fairly well most of the time.'

  'Just as long as you do as you're told, hmm?'

  'No, Ian!'

  'All right, all right'.' They were seated by the aisle and he got to his feet, holding out a hand. 'Let's move on, shall we? I'm finding that disapproving back view down there too much of a distraction too.' He smiled at her ruefully when she looked at him, and shook his head. 'I have noticed you watching him, Laurette. He bothers you, whether I like it or not!'

  Holding her hand tightly, he led the way outside again, then turned her to face him, looking at her for a moment with a curiously searching look in his eyes. 'It's going to come to a head soon, isn't it, Laurette? This business with Nuri Kayaman,' he went on before she had a chance to speak. 'It has to be settled one way or the other soon. He doesn't like me, that's easy to work out, and he'd stop you seeing me again if he could. The question is, are you going to let him?'

  She was not even sure of the answer herself, but she said what he wanted her to say more by instinct than deliberation. 'No, Ian.'