by Margaret Way
“You bet. What happened about the chopper? Did you get it out?”
“It took a lot longer than expected. It’s grounded for a complete inspection.”
“So what was the problem?” She caught her reflection in the mirror, all pink cheeked and bright-eyed as if they were having a cosy chat.
“You wouldn’t know if I told you.”
“Just tell me this. Should we contact the police?”
“No way,” he said.
He had such a sexy voice on the phone. It was sort of like being caressed. She took a deep breath. “Listen, we can’t talk on the phone. I’m hungry.”
“Aaah, yes, I remember your appetite. Give me ten minutes okay?”
She’d probably have given him an hour.
She was full of surprises Daniel thought in some amazement. So much for the immature, just-out-of-school girl without a scrap of makeup! What he saw in front of him was a dead sexy little buttercup blonde of at least twenty. She was wearing a swishy blue dress that doubled the impact of her violet eyes. Even her hair seemed to have trebled in height and thickness. For a few crucial moments he couldn’t take his eyes off her. He damned well hadn’t expected this transformation. Even her delicate breasts had perked up an inch or two. He was so astounded he had trouble hiding it, which didn’t gel with his usual cool.
“Well good evening.” He tried to smile his way out of it.
“Have a problem with the way I look, Daniel?” she asked sweetly, pleased at his readable reaction. Maybe she wouldn’t take her little blue dress off.
“No, ma’am.” He half shrugged. “You look different that’s all.’
“You don’t.” She surrendered to the impish urge to put him in his place.
He winced. “So, you don’t want to be seen with me?”
“I was only being a smart alec,” she confessed, kindly.
He glanced down at himself. “I did try to order a dinner suit but they didn’t have one in stock. I had to make do with what I’ve got on.”
She made a business of looking him up and down as a prospective employer might the new chauffeur. What, she wondered, wouldn’t he look good in? He was wearing what was obviously a new open necked shirt, white with fine beige and blue stripes and new denim jeans. “And those ridiculous boots?” she said, staring down at his feet. “You’re towering over me.”
“Yeah, well, most guys would. What was I supposed to do, buy a pair of loafers? This lot cost enough. My gear was ruined by the time we were finished in the swamp.”
“Lose no sleep,” she said loftily. “You’ll be properly reimbursed.”
“Thank you, ma’am.” He bowed slightly. “And you needn’t be cheeky.”
“I didn’t know I was. I thought I was being respectful as befitting my position.”
“Now that sounded sarcastic, Daniel,” she warned, looking back over her shoulder for her clutch. “Where are we going?”
“Somewhere cheap,” he said.
“I’m paying.”
“That’s different,” he smiled, the dimple deep in his cheek. “I hope it suits but I’ve already made a booking at a little Vietnamese restaurant a short walk from here. I know the owners. The food’s great.”
“It’s not noisy is it?”
“Not so it’ll damage your ears.” He studied the small face that had within a few short hours blossomed from a furled bud into full flower. “What’s the problem, a headache?”
“I’m sick with nerves, Daniel, if you must know.” She walked back to pick up her purse.
“I promise I’ll lay down my life for you.” He said it lightly with a grin. Then it struck him. He had just said something he actually meant.
She paused in front of him, wide-eyed. “Promise?”
Daniel felt the need to swallow. “No one will so much as tweak a hair of your head,” he said, trying to fight out of a daze.
“My hero!”
If he weren’t shocked enough, she upped the ante by going on tiptoes and landing a kiss on the point of his jaw.
The food was as good as he had promised and more. The restaurant was small but fully booked. Only Daniel was clearly a favourite they would regrettably have been turned away.
“How come everyone likes you?” Sandra asked, tucking into prawns in a delicious spicy sauce.
“It’s my sunny nature,” Daniel explained. “Not everyone likes me, however. My boyish charm doesn’t work on your uncle Lloyd or Berne. Berne and I often have words.”
“What about?” she asked with interest.
He shrugged. “Just about anything sets Berne off.”
“So he hasn’t changed,” she said dryly.
“I never had the great pleasure of knowing him when he was a kid.”
“He was the biggest pain in the arse in all the world. Pardon the language.” She glanced around hoping no one had heard her. Mercifully they were all too busy eating.
“You obviously feel strongly,” he remarked, underlining the strongly.
“I apologised, didn’t I? So, did you find anything suspicious? You can tell me now.”
“Nothing we could pin on anyone.” He shrugged. “If you really want to know it was like this.” He launched into a detailed account of their preliminary findings until she held up her hand.
“Sorry. Like they say, that’s way over my head. The real question is, are you game to charter another chopper and fly back to Moondai? More to the point, am I game to go with you?”
“It’s the only way I know to get there, unless we walk.” He forked another sea scallop.
“Do I need to remind you I’m an heiress?” “No, ma’am.”
“You’re not going to keep calling me ma’am are you?” she asked crossly.
“I thought as you’re my boss, I should. You don’t seem to like Ms Kingston.”
“What if dear old Uncle Lloyd is right and I’m not a Kingston?” she asked waspishly, then resumed eating.
“You must be. You remind me of your grandfather.”
That set her beautiful eyes asparkle. “Do you want to hold on to your job, Daniel?”
“I’ve got nothing better at the moment,” he said, calmly returning her stare.
A fraught moment passed. “Tell me about yourself,” she invited, seemingly able to assume a cajoling voice at will. “Please. “
“You really want to know?”
“Would I have asked if I didn’t? To be honest, after surviving today’s little mishap I feel we’re meant to be friends.” To prove it she solemnly took a scallop from his plate.
“Then I wouldn’t lay it on you.”
“That bad?”
Relaxed and smiling a minute before, he suddenly looked grim. “Absolutely awful. Your own childhood couldn’t have been a dream?”
“It was okay until we lost Dad. Then everything changed. He used to call out from the front verandah, “Hi, my little darlin’, I’m home.” It wasn’t my mother he was talking to. It was me. Sometimes I think both my parents needed their heads examined getting hitched.”
He nodded. “Another case of if only I knew then what I know now. It makes me very wary of having a passionate affair.”
“Now that I can’t swallow.” She threw him a look of disbelief.
“Meaning what?”
She shrugged a delicate shoulder. “I imagine there’s no end of women willing to go orgasmic—is there such a word?—over you.”
“Sandra, for that you need a good spanking.”
“Please,” she moaned. “Don’t you dare talk down to me.”
“I didn’t mean to.” Frankly he was at a complete loss how to treat her. It was easier before when she looked like a little damsel in distress, but now? Just looking at her made him gulp for air.
“That’s okay then.” She nodded briskly. “I’m twenty, soon to be twenty-one. I’ve led an adventurous life. Some might say seedy. I think I would in my place.”
His tongue got the better of him. “So why am I convinced you’re a v
irgin?” As soon as he said it he could have bitten his tongue out because street smart as she claimed to be she coloured up furiously.
“Daniel Carson our relationship does not extend to discussing subjects like that.” She tilted her head, looking down her small perfect nose. “What do you mean anyway? When I had all my hair and I was six kilos heavier I was hot!”
He couldn’t help himself. He laughed aloud. “You’d set off a few smoke alarms right now.” He hadn’t missed the appreciative glances coming her way especially from one guy who might need sorting out. “Better get cracking then and put back those six kilos. Would you like to consult the menu again?” he asked helpfully.
“Are you having a go at me?” Her expression was sharp.
“Would I dare?” He raised his black brows. “There’s actually nothing I like better than to see a girl with a healthy appetite.”
She shrugged. “Maybe dining with you wasn’t a good idea. All I’ve had all day was those sandwiches at the airport. Besides I can afford it remember? I’m an heiress. Except I don’t want to be and I don’t want Moondai.”
“I think you can be persuaded to change your mind. Moondai is a wonderful place.”
“Well it makes your eyes light up,” she commented. “You’re
not hoping to marry me, are you?” She cocked her head to one side. “Because I have to tell you I’m not an easy target. Being an heiress attracts scores of guys.”
“I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if you finished up with several hundred suitors,” he retorted, watching the waiter approach with their main course, chilli baked reef fish.
“Daniel Carson, you’re priceless!”
“No, I’m one of those guys who like to make their own way in life, Alexandra.”
“You’d better point out another if you see one,” she returned breezily. “Oh goody, here comes the waiter! What about dessert?”
“You can have dessert if you want,” he replied. “They do a delicious coconut dish with gula melaka syrup and another ginger one that’s very good. I’m going to have one.”
“How could they ever fill you?” She was in awe of his height and superb physique.
“My sweet little mother used to say that to me nearly every day of the week. How am I going to fill you, Danny?”
Some tender note in his voice, the poignant expression on his dynamic face tugged on her heart strings and made her close her eyes.
“Hey what are you doing?” he asked in alarm as a teardrop ran from beneath her thick lashes and down her cheek.
“Sandra?”
She opened her eyes and choked back a cough. “Something went down the wrong way,” she lied.
“Here, have a glass of water.” He began to pour one.
“Thanks.” She drank a little, looking up brightly as the Vietnamese waiter arrived at their table. “Ah, this looks sensational!” She smiled.
He was out of it—after all it had been quite a day—when the insistent ring of the phone ripped him out of the enveloping clouds.
“Daniel? Get down here fast,” a voice hissed.
Instantly he was on red alert. “Sandra?”
“Someone else you know?” she asked sharply. “There’s some guy at my door. He keeps tapping and asking, ‘Are you in there, blondie?’”
“I’m on my way.” Daniel was already pulling on his jeans. This was just the sort of thing the attractive blond women of this world had to put up with, he thought wrathfully. He shouldered into his shirt, not bothering to button it. Sandra was several rooms along from him down the corridor. He was at the very end of the hallway.
Outside in the passageway, he caught the back of a heavily built guy, not tall, striding purposefully towards the lift. At that hour—it was 2:30 a.m.—there was no one else about. Daniel recognised him immediately as the guy in the restaurant who’d been giving Sandra looks Daniel hadn’t cared for. “Hey,” he called, lengthening his own stride. “Hold it there, fella!”
“You talkin’ to me?” The man swung round, on his face an expression of challenge.
“You see anyone else nipping around at this hour?” Daniel closed the distance between them. “You staying at this hotel?”
“Sure I am,” the guy blustered.
“Name and room number, please?”
“You security or somethin’?”
Daniel was reminded of a cornered bull. “Right on,” he clipped off, daring the other man to question him further. “I’ve just had a phone call from a hotel guest saying some idiot was tapping on her door, wanting an invite in. Could that possibly be you?”
The guy swore. “Look I’m lost, okay? Had a bit too much to drink with a couple of my mates. Probably on the wrong floor.”
“So what’s your room number, Mr.?” Daniel pressed his body forward slightly so the other guy had to back up.
“Three Fourteen and it’s Rick Bryce.”
“Well I agree with you when you say you’ve had too much to drink and you are on the wrong floor.”
“Listen, mate.” The guy started his appeal. “I don’t want any trouble.”
“Then you won’t mind if I escort you to your room? Management might have a couple of quick questions.”
Minutes later when Daniel tapped on Sandra’s door, softly calling her name, she opened it a fraction peering at him with huge eyes.
“Come in.” She made a grab for his shirt, trying ineffectually to pull him through the door.
“We’re going to have a conversation then?” He made it easy by stepping inside. She was wearing what looked like a flirty mini but was probably the latest in nightwear. Her small face was distressed. He knew distress on a woman’s face when he saw it.
“Was he the guy?” she asked. “I peeped out and saw you talking to him. You had him backed right up against the wall like you were going to give him a good biff.”
“He won’t be bothering you again. Count on it.”
“Is he staying in the hotel?”
Daniel nodded. “Several floors down. His name is Rick Bryce. He claims he had a bit too much to drink and got mixed up with the floor.”
“Rubbish!” she said fiercely, shaking her head. “Why does this stuff happen to me?” she moaned, crossing her arms over her delicate breasts.
“What stuff?” He watched her suddenly take off on a rage around the room.
“Men knocking on my door.” She threw her arms wide. “Men trying to get in. Stop asking me questions.”
“Sandra, settle down,” he said soothingly. “You don’t have anything to worry about. I promise.”
She exhaled noisily. “I felt like he could break in. I knew he couldn’t, but I felt he could.” Her eyes were swallowing up her face.
“You should have rung management immediately.” He looked back at her intently. Suddenly remembering the things she had told him, the little pieces started to fall into place.
“I rang you didn’t I?” she cried. “I knew you’d be here in a few seconds. I trust you, Daniel. I don’t trust anyone else.”
“Gee that’s sad,” he said quietly, running a hand through his sleep-tousled hair. “So, are you going to go back to bed? We have a big day tomorrow.”
“Sure.” She looked sheepish all of a sudden and a tad ashamed. “Thanks a lot, Daniel. Sorry I had to wake you up.”
“That’s absolutely no problem at all. You’re certain you’re okay?” She looked very pale and agitated.
“He gave me a fright, that’s all. Don’t you ever get a fright?” She turned roundly on him.
“So what’s this really about?” he asked, his voice quiet and reassuring. “The odious stepfather?”
Colour swept her pale cheeks. “Don’t be so stupid, Daniel,” she raged. “I’ve been over that for years.” She swung away from him, her exposed nape, her delicate shoulders and the fine bones of her shoulder blades like little wings so vulnerable to his eyes. The fabric of her nightdress was gossamer light. For a little space of time he could see through it as she mov
ed into the glow of the bedside lamps. The outline of her young body was incredibly erotic. Emotions assailed him, very real and very deep but he thrust them vigorously away. He was her knight in shining armour wasn’t he?
“That’s a yes, Daniel,” she burst out, turning back to him. There was a little vein beating frantically at the delta of her throat. “I hated … I hated …”
Images sprang to Daniel’s mind that gave him a chill. “He must have been a real sick, sad bastard, your stepfather. I’d like to meet up with him. As for your mother!” His face was dark with disgust.
“Leave her out of it, okay?” she said fiercely. “She did her best.”
“Some best!” Daniel threw himself down into an armchair. “Do you want me to wait here until you fall off to sleep?”
Her beautiful eyes quieted. A passing ripple of expression told him she liked the sound of that, but she looked at him coolly, the twenty-year-old with attitude. “Kinda kooky isn’t it, Carson?” she challenged.
“Not at all.” He shrugged, lifting his arms and locking them behind his head. “You’re not all grown-up until you’re twenty-one. Why don’t you just hop into bed and close your eyes. I promise I won’t leave until you’re fast asleep.”
“Can we talk for a bit?” She slipped beneath the coverlet, her body so ethereal a man would have to shake the sheets to find her.
“No,” he said firmly. “Plenty of time to talk tomorrow. Close your eyes now.”
She sat up briefly. “Will you tell me something, Daniel?” “If I can.” Sometimes she sounded so darn endearing. “Wouldn’t you have liked a younger sister?”
He thought of his early life the way it was. No place for a little sister. “There was only room for me and my mum.”
“You’d have made a lovely brother, too.” She sank back again, sounding young and wistful.
“Good night, Sandra,” he said pointedly.
“All right, all right.” She plumped up the pillow, irritable again, then punched it. “By the way, thanks. Did I say thanks?”
“Yes, you did.”
“One more request. Do you think I can have a glass of water?”
“Okay.” He stood up, wondering briefly and wildly what it might be like to join her. “After that, you promise to be good?”
“I promise.” She gave him an utterly beautiful smile.