by Jessica Hart
'You're going?' she said, a little surprised.
'It was your idea,' he reminded her grouchily.
'Well, I do tend to have good ones,' she said, composed.
There was a short silence while the memory of her idea that they get married shimmered in the air between them. Patrick didn't need to say anything. Lou knew perfectly well that he was thinking about it. A flush crept up her cheeks and her poise slipped a little.
'Sometimes,' she said.
Patrick's eyes gleamed. 'Get me flights to the Maldives and a hotel for that week you're away.'
Lou raised her brows at his choice of destination, but made a note. 'Where do you want to stay?'
'Wherever's best,' he said indifferently. He had picked
up a report from her desk and was leafing through it. 'Book a suite, or a cabin, or whatever it is everyone has out there.'
'Best for what? Best location, best food, most luxurious?'
'I don't know.' Patrick gestured irritably. 'The most expensive.'
'Right.' Lou set her jaw. 'I take it you're not travelling alone?'
'No.' He closed the report with a slap and dropped it back onto the pile. 'One of the tickets should be in the name of Ariel Harper.'
Ariel. How charming, thought Lou, teeth mentally gritted. No doubt Hazel in Finance would be able to supply a photo, but Lou would take a bet on Ariel being blonde and ethereal. Oh, and twenty-five, tops.
'Put it through on my personal account,' said Patrick, and was about to turn away when he caught the look on Lou's face. 'What?' he demanded.
'Nothing, I'm just surprised at your choice of destination,' said Lou. 'I can't imagine you lying on a beach for a week.'
Patrick couldn't imagine it either. He was always bored of the beach after an hour. But, stung by Lou's implication that he didn't know how to relax and have a good time, he had asked Ariel the night before if she wanted to go away for a week. She had leapt at the idea, as he had known that she would. The Maldives had been her choice, and, as Patrick couldn't think of anywhere else he wanted to go, the Maldives it was.
'I have hidden shallows,' he told Lou, who was surprised into a laugh.
Patrick wished she wouldn't do that. It always startled him to see how vivid she looked when she laughed, how
very different from the prim and proper PA he half wished she had remained.
'It's a long way to go for a week,' she warned. 'Why don't you make it a fortnight?'
Patrick thought about a week on a beach with Ariel's chatter. She was an extraordinarily pretty girl, but she did talk. 'A week will be quite long enough,' he said. 'You're only taking a week anyway.'
'Yes, but that's because Grace and Tom have to go back to school the following week,' she pointed out. 'And we're only going to the Yorkshire Dales, which is a bit different from a long-haul flight to the Maldives.'
He didn't want to remind her that he was only going on holiday because she was. It would sound a bit pathetic. 'Why Yorkshire?' he asked instead.
'My aunt lives there. My parents died when I was quite young, and since then Fenny has been the closest I've got to a mother. She lives in a lovely village, right in the Dales, and she's got the most beautiful garden. It's not quite the Indian Ocean,' she said, 'but it's always like going home for me. I'll be happy grubbing around in the garden and bullying the kids into long walks in the hills.'
And she had the nerve to imply that he wouldn't enjoy lying on a beach! 'Whatever turns you on,' he said, and then wished he'd chosen another phrase. Practically snatching the letters Lou was holding out to him, he headed towards his office before he could get distracted by wondering what else might turn her on.
It took Lou the best part of the morning to investigate hotels in the Maldives. She chose one whose prices made her eyes boggle, and then booked two first-class return flights, trying not to think about the train tickets she had bought with her family railcard the day before.
She had barely put down the phone to get on with some
of her own work when a quite distractingly beautiful girl drifted into her office. She had the kind of long, streaky blonde hair that looked as if she spent her life in the sun, and she constantly drew attention to it by shaking it away from her face.
As if that weren't bad enough, Lou noted sourly, she had glowing skin and enormous blue eyes and a perfect body, much of it visible given that she was only wearing a tiny skirt looped with a belt almost as big as it was, and a flimsy top that looked as if it consisted of a few scraps of material pinned together in a fit of absent-mindedness, but that probably cost a fortune.
Just being in the same room as her made Lou feel faded and grey and matronly.
'Can I help you?'
More shaking of the sun-streaked hair. 'Is Pat in?'
Pat? It took Lou a moment to work out whom she was talking about. Pat? Pat sounded far too warm and cuddly for Patrick. He wasn't a man who did warm and cuddly.
'I'm afraid he's in a meeting,' Lou said as pleasantly as she could.
'Oh.' The girl pouted, her beautiful mouth drooping. 'I need to talk to him about our holiday.'
'You must be Ariel,' said Lou. She had been dead right in her earlier speculations. Ariel could only be in her early twenties. Really, Patrick ought to be ashamed of himself. 'I've been booking the holiday for you this morning,' she told her.
Ariel's eyes flickered over her without interest. 'Oh, ya, Pat said he would ask his secretary to arrange it all.'
Oh, did he? Clearly she didn't even merit a name when he was talking to Ariel. Lou couldn't help feeling a little hurt.
'Well, don't worry, it's all arranged,' she said brightly.
Back went the hair again. 'I hope you've booked the Kandarai Beach Hotel?'
'No,' said Lou, keeping her voice determinedly even. 'I wasn't asked to book that. I've booked a really beautiful hotel on the grounds that it was the most luxurious one I could find.'
'Oh, but I wanted to go to the Kandarai Beach!' Ariel's beautiful face crumpled and for a moment she looked extraordinarily like Grace on the verge of a tantrum. 'That's what I wanted to talk to Pat about. I've been talking to my friend. She says it's fabulous, I didn't think you'd book it so quickly, but you can change it, can't you?'
'I can certainly mention it to Patrick,' said Lou. Frankly she had had enough of booking other people's luxury holidays in the Maldives for one morning.
'Mention what?' said Patrick's voice from the doorway. His eyes fell on Ariel, and he frowned, although Ariel didn't seem to notice his marked lack of delight at her unexpected appearance in his office.
'Oh, Pat, there you are!' she cried, wafting over to wind her arms around his neck and kiss him.
Patrick had little choice but to kiss her back, but as he lifted his head his eyes met Lou's, dark and ironic, over Ariel's blonde hair. He glared at her expression, but Lou just looked up at the ceiling, all innocence.
Annoyed, he put Ariel away from him. 'Ariel, what are you doing here? You know I don't like mixing work and pleasure.'
'Oh, youV Ariel gave a girlish moue that made Lou cringe. 'I was just so excited about our holiday, I wanted to make sure that it was all perfect, and it's just as well I did,' she said. 'Pat, she's booked the wrong hotel!'
'You mean Lou,' said Patrick, frowning.
'Whatever.' Ariel waved Lou aside as unimportant. 'Oh,
Pat, please, please, please tell her to book the Kandarai Beach! I'll be so happy.' She was clinging girlishly to his arm, gazing up at him with her big blue eyes. Til love you for ever!'
Oops, big mistake, Ariel, thought Lou, a reluctant witness to this simpering display. Even Ariel couldn't have missed the flash of irritation in Patrick's face.
He glanced at Lou in naked appeal. Clearly his only concern right then was to shut Ariel up and get her out of the office.
TU see what I can do,' she told him coolly and his features relaxed a bit.
Apparently Ariel had missed his look of irritation. Either t
hat or she was monumentally thick-skinned. 'Ooh, thank you, thank you, thank you,' she said to Patrick, although he wasn't the one who was going to spend the afternoon on the phone. Ariel was wriggling with ecstasy. 'Let's go and have lunch and celebrate!'
'I haven't got time for lunch today,' said Patrick abruptly. Tve got a meeting.'
Ariel shook more hair around so that it shone like spun gold in the light. Til see you tonight, then,' she said, with a little pout.
Patrick evaded that neatly. Til call you,' he said. 'Now, I'm sorry, Ariel, but I'm very busy.'
Lou didn't know whether she was glad to see Ariel go, or outraged at the passive way the girl accepted Patrick's brush-off. Ariel seemed perfectly happy, though, as well she might given that she was getting a free week in a luxury hotel in the Maldives.
At the door, she turned back with a final shake of her tresses and blew Patrick a kiss. 'Enjoy!' she said, and drifted off.
Patrick met Lou's eyes. 'Don't say a word,' he warned.
Lou preserved an innocent expression. 'I wouldn't dream of it,' she said, and picked up a file. 'Here are those figures you wanted.'
'Thank you.'
She couldn't resist it. 'You know, that would sound so much more sincere if you said it three times and promised to love me for ever,' she said sweetly, just as he reached his office door.
Patrick turned to glare at her, but Lou just laughed, and blew him a kiss in perfect imitation of Ariel. 'Enjoy!' she simpered and had the huge satisfaction of making Patrick stomp into his office and slam the door behind him.
She was less amused when Ariel took to calling every day, having evidently decided that Lou was her own private travel agent. After many phone calls and a lot of string-pulling, Lou had finally managed to book a suite at the Kandarai Beach Hotel, but this wasn't enough for Ariel. It turned out that she didn't want a suite, she wanted one of the luxuriously furnished huts that were built out over the water, so Lou had to rearrange it all again.
Then Ariel wanted to leave a day later so that she could go to some party, and as soon as Lou had done that she wanted her ticket changed again so that she could come back via Mombasa. A day later, she needed Lou to find out whether the hotel would be able to provide soya milk as she was allergic to dairy products.
By the time half-term came round, Lou's jaw was aching from keeping her teeth in a permanently gritted position. Ariel hadn't bothered to remember her name, but was constantly on the phone throwing her insubstantial weight around.
Hazel in Finance said that Ariel was a model. Lou wasn't surprised. Ariel certainly had the looks for it. She had the personality, too. Lou knew she was being unfair, and that
there were probably loads of perfectly nice, pleasant models out there, but Ariel fulfilled every stereotype of a spoilt and manipulative prima donna, constantly demanding attention. Lou couldn't imagine what Patrick ever found to talk to her about.
But then, they probably didn't do a whole lot of talking, Lou realised, feeling depressed. It had been so long since she had slept with anyone, she could hardly remember what it was like. She.was sure that she had forgotten how to do it. Most of the time she just accepted the absence of physical comfort as the price of refusing to get emotionally involved, and since she couldn't imagine sleeping with a man unless she loved him, and she wasn't going to risk the pain and heartbreak that accompanied love, it looked as if she might as well carry on accepting it.
She was better off sticking to gardening, Lou told herself. She might not be spending a week of passion and romance in the Indian Ocean, but she would have a week weeding instead, and very happy she would be with it.
It was a relief to leave Ariel and her ceaseless demands behind when they left for Yorkshire, but Lou couldn't help comparing her crowded train journey with Patrick's first-class flight. She cheered herself up by remembering that, although he might be surrounded by all the trappings of luxury, he would still have Ariel yakking non-stop beside him.
Then she looked across at Grace, slumped in the seat opposite, her mouth turned down sulkily, and Tom, riveted to his Game Boy, and she sighed to herself. Patrick probably wouldn't envy her her travelling companions either.
Fenny met them at the station in Skipton and drove them home. That tended to be a nerve-racking experience, as both the car and Fenny were getting on, and her aunt had only ever been an erratic driver at best, but as soon as Lou
got out of the car and took a deep breath, savouring the clean, sharp air of the hills, she felt better. Even the children perked up. They might grumble and groan about being taken to the country, but they loved Fenny.
Yes, it had been a good idea to come here, Lou decided. She wasn't going to think about the bills waiting to be paid. She wasn't going to think about work. She wasn't going to think about anything.
Especially she wasn't going to think about Patrick.
But at odd times during the week Lou found her mind drifting to the Indian Ocean in spite of herself. She'd be pulling out weeds in Fenny's front garden, and suddenly she'd be wondering what Patrick was doing right then. Was he walking along a palm-fringed beach, hand in hand with Ariel? Were they frolicking in the minty green waters of a lagoon? Probably not, Lou decided on that one. She couldn't picture Patrick frolicking.
Or were they simply spending the entire week in bed?
'You seem very distracted at the moment, Lou,' said Fenny. She had brought out two cups of tea, and they sat companionably together on the doorstep as they drank them.
'I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be,' said Lou guiltily. 'I suppose I've just got things on my mind at the moment.'
'What kind of things?'
Patrick in bed, his body bare and brown against white sheets...
'Oh, you know...the usual things. Bills to pay, new shoes to buy for the kids.' She smiled, but it didn't quite work. 'It would help if they would stop growing!'
'I thought it might be a man,' said Fenny casually.
Since when had her aunt been telepathic? Lou attempted a laugh. 'Oh, Fenny, I'm too old for all that now!'
'Nonsense!' Fenny sounded quite cross. 'You're never
too old for all thatV She sighed. 'I keep hoping that you'll tell me you're getting married again,' she admitted. 'It would be such a shame if that Lawrence put you off men altogether. They're not all low-down, irresponsible cheats, you know.'
Fenny had never liked Lawrie and the feeling had been mutual. 'It would just be so much easier for you if you had a husband. Someone to help you. It's very hard for you to deal with everything on your own.'
Lou couldn't help thinking about the fantasy she had confessed to Patrick. 'It sounds good, Fenny,' she said lightly, 'but it's not that easy to find men who want to do that.'
'I know.' Fenny shot her a speculative sideways glance. 'I just wondered if you had met someone likely already. There's something different about you,' she said thoughtfully.
For some reason, Lou's mind flashed to Patrick, and a tiny blush crept up her cheeks. 'No, there's no one.'
No one the slightest bit likely, anyway.
She had herself well back under control by the time she got into work the following Monday, though. She was standing in front of her desk, glancing through the pile of messages, when Patrick strode in, and although her heart did its usual little lurch Lou was proud of the cool way she could smile at him.
'Hello,' she said, quite as if she hadn't spent most of the previous week imagining him stretched out in bed, his body lean and brown, a lazy grin on his face.
Patrick stopped at the sight of her, neat and dark and as immaculately turned out as ever. She was wearing a straight grey skirt and pale pink shirt, with just a glimpse of pearls at her neck. Not an exciting outfit, but after a week of
women in bikinis, or shorts and skimpy dresses, Lou looked cool and classy.
'Oh,' he said. It's you.'
Lou lifted her brows. 'It is my office,' she pointed out. 'It shouldn't be that big a surprise to find me here.'
&nb
sp; 'I didn't think you'd be in yet,' Patrick said, hating the way she could make him feel like a fool sometimes.
'I wasn't expecting you either.' No one knew his flight times better than Lou, who had had to change them so often. He wouldn't have got back until late the night before. 'Did you have a good holiday?'
'No,' said Patrick, and went into his office, shutting the door with a snap.
'I had a lovely week too, thanks,' said Lou to the closed door. 'Nice of you to ask!'
At his desk, Patrick switched on his computer with a scowl. It had been a long week and he was glad to be back in the office and away from Ariel, who had taken the invitation to spend a holiday together as a sign of irreversible commitment on his part. Alternately possessive and coyly flirtatious, she had simply ignored his increasingly blunt attempts to explain that, as far as he was concerned, there was no question of a long-term relationship, let alone marriage.
Patrick cursed himself for ever asking her. He had only done it to prove something to Lou, and it didn't help that he couldn't now remember what that something was. All he knew was that it was somehow Lou's fault.
In the evenings he had sat and watched the sun set over the Indian Ocean in a spectacular blaze of colour, and inexplicably his mind had drifted to the Yorkshire Dales. As the hot wind had soughed through the palm trees, Patrick had found himself thinking about clean, fresh air and green hills. He had imagined Lou, sitting and talking in a fragrant
garden as the light faded in the long, unspectacular English summer twilight, and he had been alarmed at how appealing it had all seemed.
There was something wrong with him, Patrick had decided irritably. There he was, on a beautiful tropical island, in unimaginable luxury, unobtrusive staff on hand to gratify his every whim. With him was a girl who made every other man on the island look at him enviously. Ariel was gorgeous, there were no two ways about it. Beautiful, sexy, with glowing skin, a fantastic body and legs up to her armpits, she was every man's fantasy come true.