Dangerous to Know

by Nell Dixon

  Gemma’s breath caught at the back of her throat. Why did Jerome have to be so sexy? When he smiled her stomach flipped and her pulse raced. She concentrated on the menu without seeing any of the print.

  Friends. She was just friends with him. Anything more was too scary, especially as he’d made it clear that was all he was prepared to offer her.

  “What would you like?”

  She felt her body heat at his question.

  “To eat,” he added, almost as if he had read the thought that had flitted through her mind.

  Gemma did her best to wither him with a look, but he continued to smile nonchalantly at her while he waited for a response.

  “Fish and chips, please.”

  He collected her menu and strode back inside the café to place their order. Gemma blew out a breath and leaned back in her seat, glad of the chance to get her thoughts back into order.

  “Good afternoon, my dear. All alone today?” Gerald Shakespeare appeared in front of her, looking dapper and out of place amongst the brightly clad tourists.

  “Jerome is inside.” She wriggled upright in her seat, looking toward the café entrance and hoping Jerome would reappear.

  “Cutting your holiday short? Such a shame now the weather has improved.” Gerald flashed a benign smile that failed to reach his eyes.

  “Yes, the sunshine is lovely, isn’t it? Maggie’s Fell looked beautiful this morning.”

  Gerald’s smile faded into a scowl. “A word to the wise, dearie. You and the tree-hugger would do well to avoid that particular area.”

  Gemma swallowed.

  “I do hope that wasn’t a threat, Shakespeare,” Jerome drawled as he placed two glasses of Coke on the table.

  Gerald raised an eyebrow. “Merely exchanging pleasantries with the young lady, Mayer.”

  “Pleasant isn’t a word one often associates with you.” Jerome sat down and stretched his long legs out in front of him as if he had all the time in the world to chat with Gerald.

  “I understand that you have rather misguidedly challenged me to a live debate?”

  Gemma sat up in her seat at Gerald’s words to see Jerome’s reaction.

  “Yeah, I think it might be interesting for the public to hear your plans.” Jerome lazily plucked a tiny piece of lint from the knee of his jeans.

  Gerald’s complexion turned the color of tawny port. “Don’t think you can pull any tricks on me, Mayer.”

  “Really, Gerald, what kind of trick could I possibly pull on an old hand like you?” Jerome’s eyes hardened and he met Gerald’s gaze full-on, forcing the older man to splutter in fury at the implied insult.

  “Just watch yourself, nature boy. One of these days you’ll come unstuck.” Gerald spun away from them, almost cannoning into the teenage waitress carrying their meals.

  “I don’t think he’s very happy.” Jerome nodded his thanks to the girl as she slid their plates on to the table.

  “When did you organize the debate? Was that one of your phone calls?” Gemma picked up her cutlery. She cut into her breaded fish and watched as a plume of steam curled into the air.

  Jerome sprinkled vinegar over his chips. “I thought I’d rattle old Geraldo’s cage a little. I take it from the frown on your face that you don’t approve?”

  “I’m not certain provoking him is going to work in your favor.”

  The blue intensity of his stare hit her.

  “In what way?”

  Gemma stammered a little in her effort to explain herself. “I just mean, if it’s live, what if it goes wrong?”

  “You mean what if he wins?” Jerome scowled.

  Gemma sighed. “You know how slippery he is. He could distort things. Make himself look good and you look bad.”

  Jerome dug into his fish, stabbing at it with his knife.

  She sensed her comments hadn’t been what Jerome had expected to hear. Perhaps he thought she wasn’t being supportive.

  She ate her meal with a diminished appetite. Jerome didn’t speak again, but instead appeared to be deep in thought as he finished his food.

  The crowds of tourists had dwindled by the time the waitress reappeared to collect the plates. A light breeze sprang up from the direction of the water, sending tiny wavelets rippling on to the stony shore.

  “We should head back. The badgers usually come out at dusk. We need to be in place so they don’t get our scent on the wind.” Jerome picked up his car keys from the surface of the table.

  Gemma rose from her seat to follow him. Earlier she’d been excited at the prospect of seeing badgers in the wild and defying Gerald’s henchmen by remaining on the Fell. But now Jerome seemed to be in a bad mood, while Gerald’s appearance at the café had been disquieting to say the least.

  Jerome put the radio on for the journey back up the mountain. Gemma listened to the football results without any interest. All the time she felt acutely aware of the man sitting next to her. She wished she knew what Jerome thought, if he was annoyed with her for speaking out about the debate.

  He pulled into the same spot where he had parked before and Gemma pulled her coat from behind her seat. It felt cooler out now the breeze had started to blow. After the previous night she’d seen how fast the conditions could change.

  “Are you ready to go?” His eyes burnt into hers.

  “Ready when you are.” Her pulse pounded unevenly in her ears.

  Without missing a beat his lips brushed hers, sending her senses soaring and her body tingling.

  “For luck,” he said, and climbed out of the car to collect the camera equipment from the boot.

  Gemma took a moment to collect her thoughts before she scrambled out after him. Half of her wanted to grab him and repeat the kiss, while the sensible, sane half of her wanted to scream at him for ignoring the ‘no-kissing’ conversation they’d had the previous night.

  “We need to go up above the sett and down into the hide we found. Then we should be able to get in position without them sensing our presence,” Jerome instructed as they made their way back along the rabbit path.

  As quietly as she could, Gemma settled into the hollow amongst the bracken. From their position they had a clear view of the entrance to the sett. Jerome primed his cameras and they settled in to wait. The wind blew across the hillside, carrying their scent away from the badgers as dusk began to fall.

  Gemma had closed her eyes, feeling quite sleepy when a warning touch from Jerome alerted her.

  An adult badger emerged from the entrance of the sett. Lifting its head, the black-and-white animal sniffed the air to check for any intruders. Gemma held her breath.

  Jerome fired off his camera, taking several shots in quick succession as the animal explored the ground around the entrance. Then it was Gemma’s turn to nudge Jerome as three smaller badgers tumbled from the entrance. She held the spare camera ready as he fired off shots of the animals snuffling around the forest floor.

  The light was almost gone when the badgers finally disappeared from sight. Gemma stretched her cramped arms and legs as Jerome stowed his film equipment back into his bag.

  “Wow. That was just fantastic.” She smiled at him, her happiness at seeing the animals in their natural habitat overcoming her discomfort.

  “I should have some good shots off the three cameras. It’s difficult without using flash or extra lighting, but I really wanted natural shots.” Jerome stood up. Gemma felt a sizzle of heat bridging the narrow gap between them and took a hasty step backward.

  Too late, her heel skidded on the loose surface and she started to fall. Jerome caught her hands before she hit the ground, steadying her back into an upright position.

  Jerome met her gaze for what seemed like the longest time. Gemma’s hands trembled where he still held her.

  “We need to get back to the car before it gets even darker. We can collect those last few bags we stashed in the bushes near the campsite on the way.” He released his hold so abruptly that she rocked on her feet. “Come on, let�
��s go.”

  Stunned by his withdrawal, Gemma hoisted her bag on to her back and followed the path highlighted by his torch. She wished she could read his thoughts, certain he'd been about to kiss her.

  Chapter Eight

  Jerome halted at the side of his car. The clearing was completely dark and a light breeze skittered dry, old leaves across the grass. Gemma dropped her backpack and the extra pack she had carried on to the ground with a sigh.

  “Phew, I swear that track just grew another mile longer.”

  “I’ve unlocked the car. Hop in while I load the bags.”

  He stowed the luggage into the boot of the car and stashed his camera equipment securely behind the driver’s seat. Gemma was already ensconced in the passenger seat with her belt buckled.

  “It’s a long drive home,” she said when he climbed in beside her.

  “Good job I booked us in at a hotel, then. If we hurry we can get there before the restaurant closes.” Jerome started the engine and turned on the headlights.

  “Hotel?”

  Jerome concentrated on steering down the pitch-black track.

  “I felt bad about everything that’s happened this weekend and I thought at least one night in a nice hotel might make it up to you a little bit.”

  “Oh.”

  He wished he could peep at her face to see her expression. Her voice sounded flat, as if spending time at a hotel with him wasn’t exactly top of her list of things to do.

  Distracted for a second by his thoughts, the car hit a pothole. Jerome wrestled with the wheel to bring them back on to a smoother part of the track as Gemma’s shoulder bumped against his.

  “Sorry, we’ll be on the main road again in a minute.”

  She didn’t reply and he wondered what was on her mind. Perhaps she thought this weekend had been one monumental mistake. The irony was that he had asked her along for a bit of company and some fun. Instead, the more time he’d spent with Gemma the more he’d come to realize she was just the kind of girl he needed. Maybe the girl…

  Cats-eyes glimmered in the centre of the main road ahead as another car swept by, lighting up the hillside with its main beam. Jerome halted the car at the junction ostensibly so he could check the traffic, but in reality it gave him a chance to look at Gemma.

  Her small face looked solemn in the darkness.

  “I can drive you straight home if that’s what you’d prefer.” It had been stupid to book the hotel. He should have guessed she’d rather go home.

  “No, it’s okay. It’s sensible to start back fresh in the morning.”

  Sensible. Disappointment clawed at him. He preferred the Gemma who had put being sensible to one side. When she’d behaved as if she wanted to be with him as much as he wanted to be with her.

  “The hotel is at the head of the valley. The owner is an old friend of mine.”

  “That’s nice.” Gemma yawned. “Sorry, I guess all the walking and fresh air caught up with me.”

  He chanced another quick peep at her. She did look tired. Her face had paled and her eyelids were drooping. He should’ve been more thoughtful and not have taken her on such a long hike.

  “Here’s the turn.” The hotel was a large converted country house at the top of a long winding drive. He found its air of comfortable but faded elegance relaxing.

  “I feel a bit scruffy to be arriving somewhere like this,” Gemma remarked as he brought the car to a halt near the front entrance.

  “You look fine,” he assured her and climbed out to collect the bags containing their clothes from the boot.

  Gemma smoothed her hair with her hands and waited for him by the glass-fronted porch.

  “Come on, we’ll check in.” He pushed the heavy glass door open and stood back to allow Gemma through.

  A log fire crackled in the stone fireplace inside the entrance hall and as Jerome checked in, Gemma stood warming her hands. Even with his back to her, Jerome felt acutely aware of her presence.

  The receptionist assigned them to adjoining rooms on the second floor. He crossed the polished parquet floor to where Gemma waited, her attention fixed on the flickering flames.

  “I’ve got the keys. Do you want to go and freshen up before we eat?”

  “Oh boy, do I! I feel really grubby.”

  He wasn’t fooled by the chirpy tone of her voice. On the way up to the room he watched her rest her head against the polished metal wall of the elevator.

  “I’ll get the door,” Jerome said when they reached Gemma’s room. He dropped her bag down on the floor as she flopped on to the bed with a sigh.

  “Oh, this is so nice. I liked camping, but real beds are so much comfier.”

  * * * *

  Gemma closed her eyes and reveled in the pocket-sprung comfort of the hotel bed. Maybe if she rested for a few seconds she’d feel up to going back downstairs with Jerome and making polite conversation over dinner.

  In the distance she thought she could hear water running. Jerome had probably gone to his own room to shower. She wriggled on the soft down comforter. A few more minutes and she’d make a move to the bathroom herself.

  “Hey, Sleeping Beauty.”

  The edge of the bed dipped and Gemma opened her eyes to see Jerome sitting next to her.

  “You look all in. I ran you a bath and ordered you some supper from room service. It’ll be here in thirty minutes.” He stretched out a hand and stroked her hair. “I’ll see you at breakfast.”

  “What about you?” Her heart swelled with gratitude at his thoughtfulness.

  “It’s a nice offer but your tub’s not that big.”

  She frowned at him. He’d deliberately misinterpreted what she’d said.

  “I ordered room service for my room too.” He rose to his feet.

  “You probably think I’m a real wimp.” Gemma sat up and smoothed her curls from where his hand had caressed her hair.

  Jerome smiled and handed her a hotel bathrobe. “Go jump into the bath while the water’s still warm.”

  She stared up at him for a moment, her pulse racing at the tenderness in his eyes. “Thank you. I will.”

  “Don’t worry, tempted though I am to offer to stay and help you into the tub, I’m going to let you get an early night.”

  Gemma hugged the fluffy white cotton bathrobe he’d given her closer to her chest. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  His lips brushed her hair and he turned and left before she could gather her wits enough to respond.

  Slowly, she got up from the bed and headed for the bathroom. Gemma swallowed the lump in her throat when she saw the bath filled with foaming water. Fat yellow wax candles were alight on the vanity unit and the warm air smelt of the rose petals sprinkled on the surface of the foam.

  She dashed the back of her hand across her eyes. Being around Jerome was many things, but predictable wasn’t one of them. Gemma placed the robe on the chair next to the bath and undressed.

  The water felt soothing and luxurious against her skin as she settled back amongst the bubbles. This time tomorrow she would be back in her own home and Jerome would be busy preparing for a live debate against Gerald Shakespeare, so it was nice to enjoy this decadent luxury while she had the chance.

  Gemma yawned. She couldn’t stay in the bath too long or she would fall asleep. She had just extinguished the candles and wrapped herself inside the bathrobe when her supper arrived.

  She took the tray from the bellboy and carried it across to her bed. Once settled back against the pillows she clicked the remote for the television and took a bite of her sandwich. The local news was just ending with a round up.

  A picture of Jerome flashed up on the screen, and Gemma coughed on her food. The perky blonde newsreader announced there was to be a live televised debate about the future of Maggie’s Fell next Saturday. A video clip of Gerald looking concerned appeared.

  She listened open-mouthed as Gerald assured his interviewer of his green credentials and of his desire to bring affordable housing and emp
loyment to the area. The clip ended and the news gave way to the weather forecast. Gemma switched off the TV and put her sandwich back down on the plate.

  Her bad feelings about the debate had intensified after seeing the clip. Shakespeare was so slippery that even though she knew Jerome should have no problems winning the public over, she couldn’t help but worry nonetheless. Gerald had sounded so smug, like he had some ace up his sleeve.

  She wondered if Jerome had seen the piece. After a quick drink from her rapidly cooling hot chocolate, she tightened the belt on her robe and picked up her room key. Gemma hurried the few short steps along the corridor knocking on the door of Jerome’s room before she could change her mind.

  “Gemma?” He opened the door, naked except for a towel slung low over his hips.

  She felt her body heat. “Oh, I’m sorry. I should have just called you on the phone. I’ll go back to my room.”

  He raked a hand through his damp hair and stepped back. “No, come in. Is something wrong?”

  “I just saw Gerald on the TV.” Gemma clutched the neck of her bathrobe, pulling the edges closer together as she entered Jerome’s room. She tried not to stare as he strolled back across the room to click off his own television.

  It had been a stupid idea to come to his room. Unable to resist, she drank in the sight of his bare torso, the fine sprinkling of dark hair on his chest and the toned muscles of his arms.

  “I caught the end of it. He acted pretty fast to let the television station know about it.” Jerome scratched his chin and Gemma noticed he’d shaved.

  “You mean it wasn’t you who called the TV people?” Her bad feeling about the debate intensified. Gerald had to be feeling very confident if he had tipped off the media.

  Jerome paced up and down beside the bed. “No. What else did they say in the report? I only caught the very last part.”

  “They showed your picture and said you were a distinguished wildlife photographer and animal rights campaigner. Then they talked about Maggie’s Fell before showing Gerald’s clip. He gave a spiel about jobs and affordable housing.” Gemma wished Jerome would put on his robe. It was far too distracting for her tastes seeing him in just a towel.