Charlotte Lamb.

Heart On Fire.

CHAPTER ONE.

CLAUDIA yawned over her breakfast, her green eyes shadowed, and her sister gave her a concerned look. "You know, you look terrible she said with her usual bluntness.

"You're doing too much; it has got to stop. You can't help us in the restaurant every night, and work all day at the ]~t :~; going to bed late and getting up early.

You're burning the candle at both ends, and n.o.body can keep ~at ur, for ever.

" "I don't intend to keep it up for ever? said Claudia, one eye on the clock as she ate hurriedly. The two sisters were eating ~!:1'. ~ as always.

Annette's husband, Pierre, never ga~ before nine o'clock. He was always the last to go to bed and the last to get up again.

Claudia had gone to bed first, but that had still been almost midnight, and her alarm had woken her at seven-thirty, giving her fifteen minutes to shower and dress before breakfast. She was as immaculate as ever, in spite of the haste with which she had dressed; her red-gold hair brushed into a smooth, neat chignon at the back of her fine-boned head, her slender' body sheathed in a tailored pin-striped suit with a crisp white shirt, a semi-uniform which was worn by all the secretarial staff employed at the hotel so that guests could distinguish them on sight.

"You don't have to help us out in the restaurant at all!" said Annette, and Claudia made an affectionate face at her.

"When I moved into the flat, we agreed I should pay rent or help you in the restaurant. Until I can afford to pay the rent, I am going to put in a few hours in the restaurant, so stop arguing! I am not living off you and Pierre.

Anyway, Joe says he's almost certain I'm going to get that TV stocking advert " Annette's mouth twisted.

"That agent of yours is always certain you're going to get some job or other, but you never do!"

"I've had several jobs since I left drama school!" Claudia protested, stung by that. She had had rather more luck in the beginning, actually," with a repertory job in a large seaside town for a whole summer season, and a part in a play on television following that.

"Few and far between, and they never lasted long!" Annette said cynically.

The two sisters were very different, both in looks and character. Annette was thinner, taller, her hair darker, although it had a reddish tinge in it, and her eyes were brown. She was down to earth, energetic, very efficient and would have run the lives of everyone around her, if they had let her.

Claudia sometimes let her, but more often resisted. Annette refused to believe she had grown up, that was the trouble.

"It's a tough business. It sometimes takes years to get known,"

Claudia said defensively.

"And at least I've got a training to fall back on. I'm very glad Dad made me take that secretarial course."

"You weren't at the time!" Annette reminded, laughing.

"You fought like a tiger to get out of doing it."

Claudia grimaced.

"I was only seventeen! I've got more common sense now."

"Then I wish you would take a week off, Claudia. We don't want you to be ill."

HJ~AKI L)N PIKC.

Claudia finished her toast, swallowed the last of her coffee, and got to her feet breathlessly.

"I must rush, I'm on duty at ninegsee you tonight."

Annette called impatiently after her.

"Look, I'm not letting you help us tonight. Understand?"

"OK, thanks, you're an angel, even if you're an interfering one,"

Claudia said, yawning again.

"Maybe VII have an early night. I need one!"

She always walked to work from the flat she shared with her sister and brother-in-law, above the restaurant in Mayfair. It normally took her about fifteen minutes from door to door, but if she hurried she could make it in ten, and today she was in a hurry.

It was a chilly January day. Even if ~he had had the time to dawdle her way across the park she would have run to keep warm. Her winter coat was very smart, but far too thin; it was second-hand, bought at a charity shop for a few pounds. She bought a lot of her clothes there; it was all she could afford.

She was working, temporarily, as a secretary in a large hotel looking out over Mt. James's Park. She would far rather have been working in a theatre, of course, but, she had to admit, she was enjoying her present job rather more than she had some others she had done since she left drama school four years ago.

Her work was varied and interesting: sometimes she spent the day in the hotel's own office, or was on reception duty; sometimes she was sent to do secretarial work for guests who required help. She met a great many different people, she never knew what to expect each morning when she arrived, and she was well paid. She would have been better paid if she had worked a full week, but she needed a number of hours off each week, to attend auditions, see her voice coach and work out at the dance studio.

As she arrived at the staff door at the back of the hotel, breathing heavily and very flushed after running so fast, she ruefully admitted to herself that her sister was right: she did pack too much into one day, and the strain was beginning to tell. She paused, a st.i.tch in her side, grimacing. Heavens, I feel like going back to bed now, she thought. Let's hope it's going to be a fairly easy working day. I don't thir~k I could cope with a heavy workload today.

She went into the shabby, dark little cloakroom in the bowels of the hotel, hung up her coat, took a quick look at herself in a cloudy little mirror, and went up the stairs. The secretarial staff supervisor looked up from her desk as Claudia came into the large, untidy office overlooking the park.

"Oh, Claudia... at least you're here! Half the staff seem to be down with this flu. I've had three phone calls so far this morning, and half a dozen guests have rung down for secretarial help so we're going to be very busy today." Claudia groaned.

"Don't say that, Judy!"

Judy Smith laughed.

"Sorry, but I'm afraid it's true." A small, neat, spry woman in her late thirties, she had been running this office for ten years. She was good with people and the girls who worked for her liked her.

"Well, what do you want me to do?" Claudia asked, and Judy gave her an uncertain look.

"I just got a call from the Westmorland Suite. A highly skilled secretary is needed there at once, and there isn't anybody else free... Do you think you can cope?"

Claudia wasn't offended by Judy's uncertainty; she knew her secretarial skills weren't first-cla.s.s. She could type quite fast, and accurately, she could handle a computer, and her shorthand was fairly good, but she wasn't as experienced or fast as some of the girls who worked for the hotel.

"I'll do my best," she promised, and Judy gave her a grateful smile.

"I know you will. Look, you know a conference starts here tomorrow?

One of the multinational corporations . Lefevre-Bernard, the drug people.

Their chairman is Ellis Lefevre. He brought his own secretary with him but she has gone down with this flu, this morning, so he urgently needs some help typing up a speech he has to make. I think he plans to have another secretary flown over here from Switzerland, where the company is based, but it will take time to get her here and he needs someone now. He expects the very best, and he isn't the easiest man in the world, but he is very important and we don't want to offend or annoy him. " Judy gave her a meaning look.

"He knows the management, I gathered."

"Oh, he's one of those!" Claudia said, her mouth wry.

"He's trouble with a capital T, Claudia, so be careful!" Judy warned, and Claudia nodded, making for the door.

The Westmorland Suite was the best in the hotel. On the penthouse floor, it had a view of Mt. James's park and gave tantalising glimpses of the upper floors of Buckingham Palace. Claudia rang the bell and after a moment the ma.s.sive mahogany double door was flung open. A pair of cold grey eyes flickered down over her and she instinctively stiffened, her polite smile freezing on her face.

"Mr. Lefevre? My name is Claudia Thorburn. I..."

"If you're from the Press, I never give interviews without an appointment,"

he brusquely told her, beginning to close the door again.

"No, you don't understand," Claudia hurriedly said. "I was sent up by the hotel secretarial office..."

The door opened again. He gave her another of those swift all-over glances, then his black brows swooped upwards.

"You're the hotel secretary?" He sounded sardonically incredulous.

"I hope you're capable of doing the work! I need someone first-rate.

There's a great deal to do, and very little time. Are you fully qualified?"

She opened her mouth to reply but behind him a telephone began to shrill and he gave an irritated sigh. "Oh, come in... I must answer that." He strode off, a tall, commanding figure in a dark suit she recognised as expensive, probably made here in London, in Savile Row. She followed him, closing the suite door behind her. He wasn't exactly charming, was he? Judy had said he wasn't the easiest man in the world, and Claudia could see what she had meant.

In the elegantly s.p.a.cious sitting-room of the suite Ellis Lefevre was talking in French, on the telephone, his voice even faster, more curt. Claudia knew enough French to follow some of the conversation, and saw that Ellis Lefevre was fluent in the language. Judy had said that his firm was based in Switzerland," she recalled--perhaps he came from a French-speaking part of the country? Claudia remembered vaguely that Switzerland was divided into cantons, some of which spoke French, some German and some Italian, but she had no idea which was which.

He put down the phone and turned to her impatiently, snapping his fingers.

"Miss...?"

"Thorburn," she supplied.

He nodded with indifference.

"Right. Miss Thorburn, have you got a pad with you?" He looked at the large pad ~Claudia at once produced.

"Good, take some notes, will you?" He began dictating a string of notes on the phone call he had just made, and Claudia kept up with him somehow, although she felt hot and bothered by the time he stopped.

"Got that?" he asked, loosening his silk tie.

"Good. Now, take a hair--we have a lot of do, but first I want to ask you some personal questions. The work you will be doing is very confidential and I need to be sure I can trust you."

Claudia lifted angry green eyes to his face.

"I have worked here for months and tberc have never been any complaints!"

He shrugged.

"I would still like to know more about you."

He walked over to a leather-topped desk which had been set up in the corner of the room, and was already covered with papers, a typewriter, telephones, a computer terminal. He sat down on the edge of the desk, picked up a folder and began flicking through the doc.u.ments it held.

Claudia obediently followed him, sat down, crossing her long, slender legs, her pad open on her knee. Ellis Lefevre observed the movement over the top of the folder, his cold eyes narrowed, but his face was unreadable. He must be a good poker player, she thought, increasingly finding the man disturbing.

"How long have you worked here?" he demanded. "On and off for the past couple of years."

"What do you mean... on and off?."

She hesitated, never having discussed her background with a client before, then reluctantly said, "I'm an actress, as well as a secretary. If I can't get an acting job, then I work here, but I have a diploma in secretarial work, don't worry. I'm properly qualified."

His mouth twisted.

"An actress?" Again that cold glance flicked over her, but she still could not guess what he was thinking.

"Not a very good one, I gather, or you wouldn't be working here." Before she could react to the dry comment, he went on, "You,re not' married?"

Very flushed now, she shook her head, and he asked tersely, "Boyfriend?"

"I don't see why you need to know about my private life!" Claudia said with resentment.

"I need to know the sort of person you are. Now, answer my questions quickly, I have no time to waste."

Claudia furiously muttered replies to the rest of his questions, wondering if he would want to see her birth certificate and her driving licence, too.

He fell silent at last and sat, swinging his long legs and staring at her as if trying to see inside her head.

"Do you know anything about drug manufacture?" he asked and Claudia shook her head almost triumphantly.

"Not a thing."

By now she was hoping he would send her back, demand that Judy find a replacement. Let someone else cope with the man!

"Very well, I'll take the risk of trusting you," he said, though, to her disgust.

"But heaven help you if l find you've lied, or you let me down." The icy glitter of his grey eyes made Claudia shiver, but she had no time to wonder what he would do. to her if he thought she had lied to him. For the next hour she felt like someone riding a whirlwind. His usual secretary had all her sympathy; she must be an amazing woman if she could keep up with this human tornado. No wonder she had gone down with flu. It was probably the first real rest she had had since she started working for him. Claudia was beginning to wish she had flu herself.

The telephone rang every few minutes, and he answered it, his voice curt. He didn't encourage his callers to talk for long.

"Yes?" he would bark, frowning.

"Oh, h.e.l.lo. No, I'm very busy at the moment. Yes, perhaps, later this evening. Lunch? No, I'm afraid I have an appointment... No, dinner's out, too, I'm afraid. Look, I'll give you a ring when I'm free.