'I'm not surprised. You're in the red light district!'
'Oh!' She went scarlet, then looked at him with such a strange expression that he burst out laughing.
'No, no, that is not how I find my companionship! I was merely strolling along—as you were—looking for a taxi. And I suggest you wait with me.'
'No thanks.'
She turned away, and irritably he called after her. 'You're a brave woman to wander around Bangkok on your own. Particularly in this district.'
'I'm as safe here, as with you!'
'I doubt that. Are you still annoyed with me, Miss—I'm afraid I don't know your name.'
'Sharon Kingston. And I'm not annoyed with you, Mr Morgan. You are entitled to your opinions and '
'I didn't mean everything I said,' he interrupted her. 'I was goading you on half the time. And you rose so beautifully to the bait, that it made me worse.'
'You meant quite a few of the things you said, though.' She was not to be mollified easily,
'That you're beautiful, yes. And that I fancied you. But I do take no for an answer, and I don't try to bed all the desirable females I meet!'
With a shrug she walked away, and he watched her, still piqued by her refusal to share a taxi with him. Without knowing why, he followed her, keeping a safe distance so she remained unaware of it. At the junction of Patpong and Suriwong Road she stopped, obviously not knowing which way to go.
'Excuse me,' he heard her ask a passing couple, before the traffic drowned the rest of her words.
But they could not help her, for she saw them shake their heads and smile—indicating they were strangers too—and she walked on again. There was a decidedly dejected droop to her shoulders, and he quickened his pace, reaching her as she unsuccessfully hailed a taxi.
'Sure you won't let me take you back to the hotel?' he asked, keeping all amusement from his voice.
'Yes—no! I'm fine.' She was preparing to hurry away when she noticed two young men eyeing her from a shop doorway. One of them took a step in her direction and she panicked. 'I think I'll accept your offer after all.'
'You mean better the devil you know?'
'Something like that,' she said coolly.
His amusement grew. She still had her hackles up, and he would enjoy clipping them for her!
'Sure I can't persuade you to have dinner with me?' he murmured. 'After all, I'm a guest at your hotel, and in the interest of business alone…'
'That's blackmail, Mr Morgan.'
'You're quite right, Miss Kingston, and I take it back. You are not obliged to accept my invitation. I simply hoped you would.'
'Why?' Her gaze was frank. 'I've been very rude to you.'
'As I was to you. That's why I was hoping we could declare a truce.'
Put like that, he knew she could not refuse without appearing ungracious.
'Very well, Mr Morgan,' she said stiltedly. 'I will have dinner with you.'
'Great.' He had finally won, and was pleased with himself. Dining with a pretty girl—even one he did not know—was better than dining alone!
CHAPTER FIVE
They walked for several minutes in silence, until a faint gasp made him stop. Glancing at her he saw she was panting.
'Anything wrong, Miss Kingston?'
'Nothing. But—er—do you always walk as if you're in a marathon?'
'Sorry! You should have asked me to slow down.' His eyes went to her feet. 'Tell me, why do you wear such high heels?'
'Because they're flattering.'
Her honesty amused him. 'Your legs don't need flattering. They'd look good even in slippers.'
'The floppy ones with fur inside?' she asked.
'Especially if they have pink bobbles on the front!'
For the first time she laughed, and he was surprised how radiant it made her face.
'How long have you been at the hotel?' he enquired casually.
'A month. And I'll be here another five.'
'What's your job?'
'In the main I take care of our package tour guests.'
'Sounds interesting.' It didn't, but he wasn't anxious to deflate her. However, her next words surprised him, as did the sardonic look which accompanied them.
'You don't mean that, Mr Morgan. To you, my job sounds the most boring in the world.'
'Well
'But it isn't. It's frustrating, irritating, and sometimes I could take a few heads and bang 'em together—but boring it never is!' 'Point taken,' he said. 'And I wasn't talking down to you, if that's what you think. I was simply trying to be polite.'
'Then there's a first time for everything!'
He laughed. This girl was sharp. Surprisingly so.
'Do you do the same work in England?' he asked.
'Almost. But I'll be changing jobs when I go back. I'm hoping to be given a small hotel to manage.'
'Are you, indeed? Then you really are a full-blown career girl!'
'You object to them?'
'Not at all.' He saw she was on the defensive. 'Every woman has a right to do what she most enjoys.'
'Providing she doesn't encroach on male territory, you mean?'
'Don't put words into my mouth, Miss Kingston. If a competent woman engineer applied for a job in my company, her application would be given the same consideration as a man's.'
'How many woman engineers do you employ?'
'None.'
‘Then you——- '
'Because none have applied,' he cut across her, and before she could answer, flagged down a cruising taxi and bundled her in.
'Obee Restaurant,' he ordered the driver, as he got in beside her. 'I think you need a good meal,' he added. 'It'll save you taking a bite out of me!'
As the taxi made its way to one of the best restaurants in Bangkok, Kane suddenly regretted asking this girl to dine with him. Thinking about it, he did not relish the prospect of spending an evening making idle talk with someone he didn't know, and he couldn't think why he had let himself in for it. Maybe he was tired of his own company, or Tassy had upset him more than he cared to admit? Still, the invitation had been proferred and accepted, and he had to make the best of it.
They drew up outside a palatial, glass-fronted restaurant and the girl seemed to shrink back in her seat.
'Perhaps I'll—I think I'll keep on the taxi if you don't mind, and go back to the hotel.'
'Why?' He was surprised.
'Because I'm not dressed for a place like this.'
'Nonsense.' Her insistence that they part annoyed him. He should be the one to say he'd rather eat alone, not the other way around! 'You look fine to me,' he asserted. 'No one dresses up in Bangkok anyway.'
'That's not true.'
'What I meant was that dressing up is optional. Anyway, you look lovely.'
He gave her another, closer inspection, approving both the aquamarine colour of her dress, and its style: full-skirted and not too tight on top, though it still showed she had a good figure. Stunning, come to think of it. Tiny waist, nicely rounded hips and full breasts. His eyes lingered on them. Full yet firm, their swell visible even above the conservative neckline.
Reassured by his comment, she let him escort her into the restaurant, and over to the side of the foyer.
'Shoes off,' he commanded.
'What?'
'Shoes, not clothes!' he grinned. 'It's the custom to remove your shoes in a restaurant. It makes it easier to sit cross-legged on the floor—which we'll be doing.'
He discarded his own and left them on the floor beside dozens of others, then watched as she stepped out of her high-heeled sandals. Lovely legs too, he noted, and they seemed to go on forever. She was taller than average yet didn't give that impression, probably because she was so beautifully proportioned. Once more his eyes roved over her, and aware of it, she gave him a haughty stare. Serve him right, he thought amusedly, she wasn't a piece of merchandise to be examined before buying, and he had no business eyeing her as if she were.
Shoeless, t
hey followed the waiter into the dining room—a softly lit room with walls draped in golden silk, the floor covered with a deeper gold and scarlet carpet, except for the centre which was bare and highly polished. They were shown to a low table—not more than two feet off the ground—and seated on plump cushions.
'They obviously don't believe in lounging back while you're eating,' she joked.
'You'll be surprised how comfortable it is,' Kane told her. 'It just takes a bit of getting used to.'
'But easier if you have short legs!'
'You can say that again!' He crossed his long ones and leaned an elbow on the table. 'It's a set menu here, by the way. Thai food only, but they've toned it down for Western palates.'
'Toned it down?'
'Otherwise it would burn off the roof of your mouth. Now it only singes it!'
'Oh, great!'
'Trust me,' he smiled. 'You'll like it. Now what'll you have to drink? Wine doesn't go with this sort of food, though I can recommend whisky.'
'Well…'
'Trust me some more and say yes.'
'Yes, then!' Her head tilted. 'You're very sure of yourself.'
'Part of my success.'
'In business, you mean?'
'With women too. Sorry! That makes me sound bloody conceited. What I meant was that most women prefer decisive men.'
She did not answer, and he applauded her silence.
'We'll be seeing some Thai dancing later on,' he added. 'Seen any before?'
'Yes, of course. At the hotel.'
'You'll find it considerably better here. They pay their girls a fortune.'
'So they should,' she replied. 'They have to study for years, and their life as a dancer doesn't go on for long.'
'You sound knowledgeable about it.'
'Guide books,' she confessed. 'I read as much about Thailand as I could, though I must have skipped the bit about taking off your shoes in a restaurant.'
'Not all restaurants,' he corrected. 'Many of them are Westernised now.'
'That's a pity.'
He nodded and beckoned a waiter over to say they were ready to eat.
Their drinks came with their soup—a sour one flavoured with lemon grass—and she seemed to enjoy both. Then came bowls of rice, cooked local fashion without salt, and served with chicken amy, and side- dishes of sliced bananas, chutney, chopped water chestnuts, hard-boiled eggs, cucumber relish and crisp fried onions.
She tucked into everything, and Kane enjoyed watching her. It was good to see someone eat with enjoyment, instead of picking at her food as so many of his girlfriends did. They ate silently for a while, and he was glad she did not make pointless conversation when she had nothing particular to say. It was a change from the constant yackity-yak he had become accustomed to hearing.
'Do you know Thailand well, Mr Morgan?' she asked suddenly.
'Kane please, and you are…?'
'Sharon.'
'Yes. I know the country quite well. It's a promisng market for my kind of business. The Thais need more roads, hospitals, bridges. The King likes a mix-and- match of Eastern and Western. He was born in America, you know.'
'Have you met him?'
'At official receptions only.'
'I find Thai people difficult to know,' she said. 'They're always polite and charming, but I feel they put up a barrier you can never cross.'
'I know what you mean. I guess the gap between West and East precludes complete intimacy.' As he said it, he thought of Tassy, and wondered if he should amend his remark, then decided against it, and concentrated on his companion. 'Would you like a sweet? If you haven't yet tried a Sonkaya, I suggest you do. It's made from coconut milk and tastes like creme caramel.'
'Sounds wonderful,' Sharon said, 'but I'm not sure if I have any room. I've made a real pig of myself.'
She nibbled on her lower lip and he noticed how white and even her teeth were. In the pink glow of the room her skin was radiant and her hair shone like spun gold. She was remarkably pretty—no, beautiful, come to think of it, with large blue eyes and preposterously long lashes. False? He leaned closer. No, they were real enough. He looked at her mouth, with its short upper lip and fuller lower one, hinting at sensuousness, and unexpectedly longed to kiss it. Yet her total impression was of virginal innocence—probably because of her frank, unflinching gaze. Yet she couldn't be that innocent. Few girls were these days.
He was still staring at her when the lights dimmed, and she turned to the stage. This gave him a view of her profile, which was even more disarmingly young, and he felt a pang of annoyance with himself.
I'm cradle-snatching, he thought, and tried to appease his conscience by telling himself he had rescued her from a melancholy evening alone—as she had rescued him. He was doing nothing more wicked than buying her dinner. He had no intention of seducing her.
An attractive Thai girl, in a red-and-blue brocade panung and long-sleeved jacket, came on stage and explained in French and English the story of the dance they were about to perform. Then to the accompaniment of gongs, drams and cymbals, the dancers appeared and began their intricate and delicate movements, twisting their bodies with graceful yet erotic gestures. They wore richly coloured long silk dresses sparkling with jewels, and tall gold headdresses, and their hands, malleable as putty, seemed extraordinarily long because of the fantastic length of their finger nails.
'How did you like it?' Kane asked Sharon as the dance ended to wild applause.
'Very much.' Her eyes were glowing with pleasure. 'I agree with you that it's better than in our hotel. There's no comparison. It's so much more authentic here, though I couldn't follow the story.'
'I'm not surprised,' he said with amusement. 'The gestures have hidden religious meanings—as well as sexual ones.'
'Even I could see that?
'Why "even you"?' he asked, and saw the colour bloom in her cheeks.
She did not reply, and he knew his first impression of her had been correct.
'An innocent,' he murmured. 'That's extremely rare these days—especially among career girls.'
She looked at him in sudden anger, then unexpectedly started to laugh. 'How old-fashioned you are! Do you think women only succeed via the bed— from bedroom to boardroom?'
'Not my boardroom,' he retorted. 'The prettier the female, the harder they'd find it to get anywhere in my organisation.'
'That's equally biased! I hope you don't mean it?'
'I certainly do. Pretty women use their sex appeal to get what they want, and most men fall over themselves to help them! But a plain lady knows she has to rely on her ability—hence she works twice as hard to succeed.'
Kane paused, aware of—and enjoying—the fury in the bright blue eyes opposite him. He waited for her outburst, and was not disappointed.
'So I take it you make sure your female employees are plain Janes?'
'Not at all. Let's say I prefer them to be. But as I mentioned to you earlier, our staff are chosen on merit.'
'I suppose it doesn't matter how handsome your male employees are?' she asked sarcastically.
'You're dead right. In the office or on the factory floor, Adonis gets the same treatment as Caliban!' Kane paused then said mischievously: 'Of course things may change once we start having forewomen!'
'I doubt it,' Sharon sniffed. 'Women aren't as susceptible to looks as men!'
'Aha! So you agree in parts with what I say. In general, men are pushovers when it comes to sex, and women use it to their advantage.' He paused, waiting for her to fly at him.
Golden hair glinted in the lamp glow as she shook her head. 'I've no desire to argue with you again, Mr Mor—Kane,' she amended.
'You mean you're giving in?'
'I mean you're too clever with words!'
'Especially when they happen to be true!' he chuckled. 'You're very young, Sharon, but given maturity, you'll come round to my way of thinking.'
'You mean when I'm too old to use my looks to achieve success?' she enquired with
heavy sarcasm.
'I mean when you're old enough to look back and see the progress of your career. You will succeed because you're clever as well as beautiful. It's not an idle compliment; I mean it. But when you're older and wiser, you'll admit that your looks were a help, not a hindrance.'
'I'll admit that right now! Of course looks count. I'd be a fool if I didn't realise it. All I'm saying is that most women don't deliberately use their looks to disarm the men they work with.'
'We'd better agree to differ on that, before we come to blows.'
She sniffed. 'You're talking down to me, Kane. I'm not inexperienced in commercial life, you know. I have six years' hotel management behind me, working with men and women equally.'
'Six years? You don't look a day over twenty.'
'I'm twenty-four.'
Not quite as young as he had thought. So he wasn't cradle-snatching after all. Just toddler-snatching! The waiter hovered beside him and he ordered coffee.
'I believe it's a difficult training,' he went on. 'You have to go through the whole spectrum of hotel work, don't you, from chambermaiding to waiting at table?'
'Yes. How come you're so knowledgeable? As far as I'm aware, there aren't any books on the subject!'
He laughed. 'Put it down to natural curiosity. A friend of mine runs a hotel, and I've asked him about it. I'm interested in people.'
'Yet you don't deal with people. You construct things'
He did not hide his amusement. 'Nevertheless it's my ability to relate to others that enables me to get the orders to construct things. Also, people use what we build, and it's important to consider their needs. I owe my success to that premise.'
'It's a noteworthy success.'
'Now you're flattering me.'
'It was genuinely meant. Not as a "thank you" for my supper!'
'Sheath your claws, Sharon, I believe you.' He sipped his coffee. 'But let's talk some more about you. Is hotel management going to be your entire life, or will you use your training to run an efficient home for some lucky man?'
'Both,' she said seriously. 'I'd like to go on working after I'm married.'
'Most women only do so for financial reasons.'
Roberta Leigh - No Time For Marriage Page 5