Oh heavens, Philip was going to be difficult. Why did this have to happen when everything was going so beautifully? Well, she'd just have to soothe him when she finished talking to Neal. She stood up. "Neal's my friend. He's done a good deal for me over the years. I'm never 'through' with friends," she said as she turned away. "I'll take the call in the library and be right back."
"Don't hurry." Philip took a sip of coffee, his expression hard. "We wouldn't want you to slight your 'friend' in any way."
She gave a helpless shrug. "I'll be right back," she repeated as she strode swiftly out of the breakfast room.
She returned a little over fifteen minutes later. There was a worried frown on her face as she sat down opposite him. She took a sip of coffee. It was cold. She made a face and set the cup down in the saucer and pushed it away.
"Well?" Philip asked with a cool smile. "How is your old friend?"
"Not so good." She took a deep breath and said in a rush, "I have to fly to Paris today."
His face showed both shock and pain before he wiped it clean of expression. "Really?"
"Oh, for heaven's sake, Philip, don't freeze me out like this," she said impatiently. "I've got to go. Neal, Gene, and Pauly are in Paris trying to put together a European tour. They have a new lead singer." She smiled fleetingly. "Neal said she has a great voice, but my legs are better."
"If they have a new singer, why do they need you?" She was going away. She was leaving him just as— He blocked the thought out and ignored the wild explosion of pain that seared through him. He kept his features carefully expressionless as he tried to fortify himself against the corrosive agony he knew so well.
"Dubois, the promoter, is giving them problems. He doesn't want to invest heavily in an unknown." Her face was earnest. "It's important that everything about the tour be first-rate. It can be very traumatic careerwise for a group to lose its lead singer. A triumphant European tour would give them the clout to ask for big bucks when they return to the U.S." She paused. "Dubois always liked me. He handled our first tour after Nemesis was formed. Neal thinks I can persuade him to take a chance on the new girl too. It's worth a try."
"Is it?" He pushed back his chair and stood up. "Then, of course, you must go. I'll tell Raoul to have the plane readied while you pack."
She felt a little shiver of panic run through her at the impersonal way he was speaking. "I have to go, Philip. It isn't as if I want to run off to Paris. I'll fly in today, see Dubois tonight, and be back tomorrow evening at the latest."
He shook his head. "No."
She went still. "What do you mean?"
"Don't come back. I don't want you here." There was suppressed anger beneath the coldness of his words. "I don't want you in my life. I've told you that before."
Agony ripped through her. "You do want me. I know you do." Her chin lifted defiantly. "I'll be back tomorrow night and everything will be the same. You'll see."
His lips twisted. "Don't count on it. You know I seldom keep a woman for more than a month. Be sure to take that pretty trinket I gave you in San Francisco. There won't be any more forthcoming."
"You know I don't want your damn gifts," she whispered. "Why are you doing this to me?"
A shadow of pain passed over his face. Then it was gone. "Don't come back," he said again. "You'll regret it if you do."
"I'll be home tomorrow evening," she said huskily. "I'm not going to let you do this to us, Philip."
"This is my home, not yours," he said as he turned away. "You're an outsider here. Remember that, Pandora." He didn't look at her again as he strode out of the room.
She closed her eyes, trying to fight back the waves of pain. Why? She had expected anger, even jealousy, but not this cold rejection. It was as if she'd touched a trigger that had set off a hidden land mine. She couldn't believe that the laughing man who had sat beside her on the cliff this morning could have changed in such a short time. No. She wouldn't accept it. That warm, gentle man was still there beneath the hardness. She just had to find him again.
She opened her eyes and stood up. The sooner she got this Paris business over with, the sooner she could start that search.
Her steps were quick and firm as she hurried from the room to start her packing.
Seven
It was already dark when the limousine pulled up in the courtyard the next evening. Philip's home resembled a gleaming palace from an Arabian nights storybook as the lights shone from the long, narrow windows and fell on the rich mosaic tiles of the courtyard. A palace that was remote and exotic and not at all welcoming.
Why had that thought occurred to her? Pandora wondered tiredly. She had always thought of the place as home, no matter how palatial and impressive it appeared to others. It must be because she was almost numb with exhaustion and so grimy that she bore no resemblance to the fairy-tale harem beauty who should occupy such an exotic palace.
She had wanted to change from these jeans and the tunic top before she saw Philip, but she had been too tired to bother. She'd had no sleep since she had left Sedikhan the morning before.
Dubois had been just as stubborn as Neal had suspected he would be, and they'd stayed up all night hashing out the tour details and getting the promoter to up the money. They had paused only for breakfast this morning, and the talks had continued until midafternoon. Dubois had been bullheaded, but he had acceded at last. Nonetheless, she had left for the airport feeling as if her nerves had been stretched on the rack. The scene that was waiting for her here would not help them any, she thought as she slowly climbed the steps. She had phoned from the airport in Paris to give her arrival time, and Raoul had rather sheepishly informed her that Philip was too busy to take the call.
It was Raoul himself who opened the front door and came out on the steps. She gave him a rather strained smile. "Hello, Raoul. Have you been sent to guard the gates? I'm not sure I can put up enough of a fight to make it worth your while at the moment."
"Those were not my orders." Raoul's voice held a note of warm sympathy. "I was only told to tell the driver of the limousine to wait, and then to ask you to join the sheikh and his guest in the library."
"His guest?" Not her father. Please, anyone but him. She straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin. "All right, Raoul, I'll go straight in. I was going to change, but I wouldn't want to keep him waiting." Her lips curved in a sad smile. "Thatwouldn't be either polite or kind, would it? I'm sure he's eagerly anticipating this interview."
He took an impulsive half step forward. "Miss Madchen, perhaps it would be better if you went back to Paris for the time being. You can always return at some later time, when the sheikh is in a better frame of mind."
"That bad, is it?"
"I've never seen him quite like this. It would be wiser for you to wait until his mood is a little less . . ."He shrugged helplessly. "It would be better to wait."