by Anne Ashby
“I’m not alone. The operations manager is here, too.”
“Oh, I assumed you were alone when I sensed your anxiety.” She could tell he was puzzled why his often overbearing sister should feel anxious in anyone’s company. Then his tone changed. “You’re not concerned about being alone with this guy, are you? Who is he? What’s his name?”
Debra’s glance showed Jase making no attempt to disguise his interest in the one-sided conversation. Her concern about him was far overshadowed by her distress about herself and the ridiculous way her body was responding to this confinement.
“Who is he?” Paul snapped. “I know Murphy is in charge, but who the hell is the operations manager of Riversleigh?”
“Jason McEwen.” She refused to acknowledge her companion’s faint smile and raised eyebrows.
There was a long silence in her ear before she heard a long drawn out, “Ahh,” followed by another long silence. “I remember you writing fan letters to him when we were teenagers.”
Oh God! Why did he have to remember? Now was not the time for him to remind her about her girlish obsession with the flying number eight All Black. She was desperately trying to relegate Jase as some ordinary bloke in the street.
Unable to neither respond without giving Jase some idea of the conversation, nor leap through the ether to rip out Paul’s voice box, Debra had to endure the speculation in his voice. Sweat gathered on her forehead, the phone became slippery to her touch at his little chuckle.
“Deb, I have to go. I’ll ring as soon as I’m inside the terminal at Wellington. You’ll be okay, won’t you?”
Despite his teasing, Debra heard his concern. “You’ll ring as soon as you land?”
Paul reaffirmed and a click severed the connection.
Jase was watching her. She could feel his gaze although she took a moment before she trusted herself to look back.
“Nice phone.”
“My brother gave it to me.” The second the words were out of her mouth, she swore under her breath. She should have said something else to hide any wealth being attached to her family.
Oh well, time didn’t matter so much anymore, this subterfuge would soon end. Jase suspecting she wasn’t who she pretended to be would have no bearing on the end result.
Talking to Paul had calmed her. His news of the merger they’d been working toward for over two years thrilled her, but now the awareness of her immediate situation slammed her back into a nervous dither.
“Do you think the technician has arrived yet?” She dug at the crack of the doors with her fingernails, trying to force them apart. When they wouldn’t budge she banged her clenched fists against the doors.
“It’s only been a few minutes, Debbie. Come on.” Jase patted the floor beside him. “Sit down and relax.”
His beautiful smile didn’t relax her—it hiked up her alertness to an even higher level. He slipped off his jacket and folding it, laid it on the floor. “The time will pass. You can tell me the story of your life.”
His eyebrows shot up at the haughty tilt of her head. “Or I could tell you the story of mine.”
Debra slid down beside him. Not close beside him, she even drew his jacket aside so their arms wouldn’t touch. “I’m sure your life has been much more exciting,” she murmured.
If talking to Paul had relieved some of her anxiety, perhaps talking to Jase would, too. Anything rather than admit being locked in here was scaring her silly. Her stomach felt like a floating cork in the midst of a cyclone and her heart seemed to think it was fuelling a marathon run.
This morning’s deodorant and subtle touch of perfume must have long ceased to cope. But she refused to contemplate whether this was a claustrophobic response or something else entirely driving her body.
“It’s very hot in here.” She tugged the damp shirt sticking to her chest. “Do we have enough oxygen? Could we suffocate?”
Jase didn’t make fun of her concern. He assured her the lift wasn’t airtight and moving closer he pointed out the trapdoor in the ceiling. “We could make a break through there and try to get to the second floor but I don’t think we’ve reached a point of desperation.”
“How long has it been now?”
“Stop thinking about the time. We’re going to be okay.” He smiled that beautiful smile again. His eyes actually twinkled. “You were going to tell me all about yourself.”
He was right. She just needed something else to concentrate on. She wasn’t frightened. They’d be rescued soon. No need to worry. Her fingers clung to each other. “I thought we decided your life had been more exciting,” she countered.
“Okay, you asked for it. What would you like to know?”
Everything. Somehow she stopped the word from escaping. “What made you choose the hospitality industry as a career?” She’d surprised him. She was sure most people went directly to his rugby career, but she already knew quite a bit about his time as an All Black. She knew about the devastating injury that had ended his brilliant career. She was more curious to know everything else.
What a story-teller he turned out to be. She couldn’t help laughing at one of his probable tall tales of his university days.
Hearing stories of his experiences in different hotels over the years made her realise he had indeed done his apprenticeship before rising to the management level within the industry.
He was full of praise for his parents and paid tribute to their foresightedness. “I’d have been right up the creek without a paddle if they’d let me do what I wanted.”
“And what was that?”
“Only play rugby. That was all I ever wanted.”
She glimpsed his despair as his fingers lifted to massage his shoulder. Her face burned as a picture of her fingers kneading that spot flashed into her head. A sharp shake of her head dislodged the errant thought.
Before anything more ridiculous surfaced she needed to focus on his voice, not his looks. “Are your folks still farming?”
He chuckled. “I suppose you could say so. They’re farming kids now.”
Debra’s eyes boggled.
“My brother’s a minister. His church is here in Riversleigh but his flock is all around the district. He and his wife started fostering children about ten years ago. They just can’t say no to anyone who needs them. Things were getting crazy. They had no room, but kids kept coming. Something had to give.”
A lopsided smile played around his lips. “I’m not sure who’s idea the home was to start with, but the hall at Colac Bay came up for sale about the same time Mum and Dad retired from the farm. They got their heads together with Tim and Maata and decided on a retirement plan.” He spread his hands and grinned. “Voila, a children’s home.”
He grinned again. “It’s a hell of a lot of work but they relish the challenge. I think we have about twelve or fourteen kids at the moment.”
His choice of pronoun intrigued Debra. “So you help out?” she guessed.
Colour darkened his face. He shrugged.
“I imagine you would be an excellent role model for them.” Debra hid a smile as he squirmed a little and his face got even ruddier.
“Compared to the others, I do bugger all.”
A twinge of guilt trickled through Debra. Compared to others, he said? If his input equalled bugger all—and she was certain he was playing down his role in this selfless enterprise—what did she do for other people? People less fortunate than herself?
In comparison with what Jase and his family appeared to be involved with, her contribution to the world was minimal. I keep a lot of people in employment, argued a voice inside her head. The company donated huge amounts to charity. But suddenly, that seemed so trifling and insignificant. So easy.
What’s happening to me? Debra frowned at the steel box around them, the last couple of days flitting through her mind. Riversleigh is turning me to mush.
Feelings of friendship toward Meg and the other waitresses, an unheard of emotion prior to arriving here, confused h
er enough. Add to that these unacceptable thoughts about the man beside her.
Debra shook her head, turning her face aside, lest he recognise her inner turmoil. And as if that wasn’t enough to bewilder the hard-nosed businesswoman, she now doubted her whole contribution to life.
Pride kept her back taut, her shoulders straight, her hands freakishly clawed and resting on her thighs while inside she squirmed with the unfamiliar fear of insecurity.
Amongst her uncertainty, somehow the gap between her and Jase had vanished. Blood propelled through her veins, increasing the rhythmic thump-thump in her ears. They were sitting much closer together although Debra hadn’t been aware of either of them moving.
As Jase’s voice faded she found her eyes locked with his. Her mouth dried. He was close enough for her to see the faint growth of his beard. Her hand rose...
“What are you doing here, Debbie?” his whispered words stayed her hand before she made a complete fool of herself. “We both know you don’t belong in that dining room.”
“I told you, I wanted to spend some time in Southland,” she answered in a suffocating murmur.
She swallowed as his hand cupped her cheek. “You’re built for designer clothes and to be surrounded by beautiful things. Not our staff quarters.”
“You can’t know that.”
“Yes I can,” he murmured, his hand now caressing her face. When the tips of his fingers lingered over her mouth, her lips parted, unconsciously inviting.
A lurch of excitement travelled through her, a new and different sensation now toured her stomach. She wanted him to kiss her.
So caught up with her emotions she forgot what she was hiding from him. She forgot he could be embezzling money from her company. She forgot everything but his compelling magnetism drawing her ever closer.
It was the tip of his tongue that first touched her lips, tracing their outline with such tantalising tenderness she almost cried out. She was shocked at her eager response. It was her fingers urging him closer, sealing their lips with fiery passion.
The whirling dervishes left her stomach and headed south. She squirmed at the heightening awareness between her legs. Jase’s heart thumped beneath the hand clutching his shirt. He gathered her closer, until they were almost stretched out across the floor. His lips left hers to sear down the side of her neck. She shivered.
Tweaking aside her uniform’s collar he scalded her shoulder with his touch. Something inside her cracked as she held him tight. Unexpected hunger filled her, a yearning she had feared to dream of. Desire spun out of control as his assault turned back to her lips. She was on the side of a vortex, the growing demands of her body forcing her toward a door through which she couldn’t see.
A clattering thump returned them to reality.
Motionless except for their heavy breathing, within seconds a mortified Debra, with face burning shoved against the chest she’d just been caressing. She scrambled to her feet, straightening her clothes, unable to look at him.
Activity outside the lift suggested the technician had arrived. There was knocking, tools whirring, men talking. No one must think...no one must guess what had almost happened.
About to bury her face in her hands, Debra refused to give in to such weakness. Instead she squared her shoulders and stuck out her chin. As long as she didn’t look at him perhaps she could get through these next moments.
Jase seemed in no hurry to rise. “Debra? We need to talk.”
“No, we don’t,” she snapped, keeping her eyes forward. “There’s nothing to talk about.”
“Oh yes, there is.” He rose slowly. In her peripheral vision Debra saw him adjusting his trousers and the blush fading from her face returned tenfold, invading her whole body. “But you’re right. Now is not the time.”
Jase leant over and touching her chin forced her to look at him. “We’ll be out of here soon and everyone will be concerned.” Their gaze locked together. Something flashed between them—some powerful force neither seemed able, nor willing, to withstand. Debra forgot to breathe. Her tongue dampened her parched lips.
Slumberous eyes followed the movement. “We will be talking, Debra. You can bet your life on that.” The expression on Jase’s face turned his threat into a delicious promise.
A couple of enormous thumps and a hideous cacophonous grinding from outside destroyed the moment. Reality hit Debra like a swinging four-by-four post.
There couldn’t be anything between them. Once she’d ferreted out what was going on in this hotel she’d be off home to Wellington. Jason McEwen wouldn’t sanction her pretence, nor her suspicions of his involvement.
Their confined space accentuated the volume of the noise and Debra covered her ears. It also gave her an excuse not to look at her companion. She feared what she might read in his expression. Familiarity? Intimacy? Desire? She couldn’t handle any of those.
Or was she afraid because she knew any of those might soon be replaced by his looking at her with disdain?
****
As the lift doors were being manhandled open, Jase touched Debra on the shoulder. He grimaced as she jerked away from the contact. While Jase wanted to pursue what they’d started, and fully intended to do so, he again acknowledged that now was not the time.
His personal life would have to wait until he cleared up the resort’s mess. “I’ll tell George not to expect you in the dining room tonight, Debbie. You’ve had enough excitement for one day. Take the night off.”
He forestalled her attempt to retrieve the dishes from the lift floor and waved her away. She was only a couple of steps across the foyer when she began digging at her pocket.
His stomach muscles tightened at her rapt expression as she answered. Whoever Paul was, he commanded a huge emotional attachment. Huge enough to calm her when he suspected her reaction to their confinement was claustrophobic.
Would he be able to come between her and Paul? His lips formed in a cynical little smile. She hadn’t been thinking about some other guy a few moments ago. She’d been his.
Whoever Debra really was he intended to find out. She intrigued him.
With a flex of his tired shoulders he turned to his maintenance staff and demanded an explanation why the lift hadn’t been serviced at the first sign of trouble. Hearing his boss had instructed them to nurse it along instead of calling in a technician infuriated him. If guests had been stuck there for those couple of hours...
Head Office had cut their operating budget to almost nothing, but they couldn’t expect staff to endanger the wellbeing of their clients, could they?
Jase’s regard for the company he worked for had plummeted since James Laurie’s death. His children seemed more intent on making quick money than building and maintaining a respectable reputation.
With fists clenched he stormed toward his office. He’d be damned if he’d have anything to do with withholding necessary maintenance. If Madeline Murphy wasn’t willing to fight for a more realistic operating budget, he might just have to put his job on the line and approach Head Office over her head.
Chapter Six
Jase’s head flew up as the door burst open. The dark-haired beauty occupying his thoughts disappeared.
Only one person ever waltzed into his office as if she owned the place. As general manager, he supposed she almost did. His fists whitened around the arms of his chair. Struggling to keep his mouth shut and his scathing opinion to himself, he stared at the once-beautiful woman who now made his life a living hell.
Madeline Murphy was a bitch of the first degree. She had evidently used her looks to climb the corporate ladder as she had little nous about people or running a business. But now, despite the secret but noticeable recent facelift, those looks were deserting her.
It was obvious she had barely enough management skill to run a car wash. Jase clenched his teeth. Inside her beat the heart of a predator. She was ambitious and hard as nails. He had no doubt her ambitions included one day taking over the whole company, chewing up and spittin
g out anyone who might try to stand in her way.
Ten years ago the way she leaned over his desk might have seemed sexy, but at her age such behaviour was nauseating. She was almost as old as his mother. Only by stiffening his body did he manage not to shiver.
Before he could report the lift incident and demand an extension of the maintenance budget, his boss spoke.
“I’ve just had a call from Head Office. They’ve summoned all the general managers. Apparently those Laurie twins have acknowledged they need some expert help running the company.”
Jase almost choked.
“I don’t know how long I’ll be away, at least a week, I expect.” She rested her bottom on his desk, swinging her leg so her skirt rode halfway up her thigh. Seeing the movement in his peripheral vision Jase kept his narrowed gaze glued to her face. “Try to keep everything running smoothly, Jase. There’s a good boy.”
He jerked his head away from the fingers approaching his face. Her slimy little smile helped Jase realise his tolerance had reached its limit. “I do expect you to have that impudent cook under control before I come back. Give him his notice if he isn’t willing to work my way.”
Having no apparent effect on Jase her provocative stance was abandoned. She stood up and wriggled her fingers as she waltzed toward the door. “If you have any trouble with him just call me. I’m sure we can work something out. Just call, Jase. Anytime. Day or night.”
Thank God she and her sick smile disappeared out the door before he could react. Jumping to his feet Jase slammed open a window and sucked deep breaths into his lungs. Moments passed before he purged the overpowering odour of her perfume.
He should have quit the job months ago when she’d started coming on to him. Arrogant sod that he was he’d thought he could handle her, but she was too Machiavellian.
This altercation with Philippe was another of her subtle threats to undermine his resistance. He didn’t care what she might try against him, but her methods were sly, always attacking others. Always letting him know the result was in his hands. He could change things. He could protect the staff.