She rolled over and glanced at the twin bed next to hers, not really surprised to see that it was empty. Obviously Carol hadn’t come back yet, and who could blame her? Meeting Simon again like that on the plane had been a heaven-sent opportunity for her, and Louise wasn’t selfish enough to resent her friend making the most of it. It was just that it left her out on a limb.
She sat up, pushing the silky dark curls back from her face as she drew up her knees and rested her forehead against the cool, smooth satin. She’d been so excited about winning this holiday for two in Miami; it had seemed like a dream come true. Two weeks of luxury in a top-class hotel, all expenses paid. She’d be nothing short of ungrateful if she admitted that the hotel wasn’t quite what she would have chosen. It catered mainly for an older, wealthy clientele, retired couples who enjoyed the quiet luxury of the elegant surroundings. Of course it would have been different if Carol had been around more, but Simon had claimed most of her time since they’d arrived, whisking her back to his hotel at the other side of town.
Louise knew only too well how her friend felt about him, having spent many unhappy evenings over the past months with Carol pouring her heart out to her. She was glad they had found each other again, but she did sometimes wish it hadn’t been on this side of the Atlantic!
Still, she hadn’t really been that lonely. Through force of circumstance she’d made friends with a few people who’d been on the same flight, and they’d made it their business to see that she wasn’t left on her own all the time. It was just that she sometimes longed for someone of her own age to talk to. Apart from herself, Carol and the man in the next room there was no one under the age of fifty in the hotel.
At the thought of the man she sat bolt upright, suddenly remembering the noise that had woken her. Had it come from his room? If so, what had happened?
She jumped out of bed and pressed her ear to the connecting wall between the two rooms, but there was no sound from the other side. Was he sleeping, or had the sound she’d heard been him falling as he’d got up, possibly to summon help? Despite his objections, she’d phoned down to the desk before she’d got into bed and requested that a doctor should call to see him, but had he been yet? Even now the man might be lying there, too weak to move.
There was no way she would sleep now with so many unanswered questions whirling inside her head, so she dragged on the silky blue robe that matched her gown and crept from her room to tap on his door, waiting with a mounting impatience for him to answer. She chewed on her lip, weighing the choices of calling Reception again to ask for help or leaving well alone. If he was asleep then he wouldn’t welcome being disturbed, and frankly, she’d borne enough of his foul temper to last a lifetime, but if he was ill ...?
She turned to hurry back to her room and call the desk, then gasped when her foot caught on something sharp lying on the floor. She bent down to see what it was, then realised she might just have found the solution to the dilemma as she picked up the key. It must have fallen from the lock when she’d slammed the door before, and now it was just what she needed. She would take a quick look in his room, check he was all right, then leave.
The room was in darkness, just a faint glow from the window reflecting eerily off the mirrored vanity unit. Holding her breath, Louise crept towards the bed, neatly side-stepping the shattered remains of the Tiffany lamp that had been standing on the bedside table. That breaking must have been the sound that had woken her. Now if she could just check that he was all right, then she could leave.
He was lying on top of the bed, his long legs tangled up in the satin spread. He’d managed to undress down to a pair of dark boxer shorts, his muscular chest bare and gleaming like moulded bronze in the dim light. Louise felt a strange tightness in her chest as she stared down at the man’s near-naked body, and it shocked her. She’d seen naked bodies, both male and female, more times than she could count, so what was different about him?
It was purely out of a desire to answer that question that she allowed her eyes to travel down from the wide shoulders and over that perfectly sculpted torso, then carry on across the slimness of his hips, the muscular hardness of his thighs and down the length of his legs to his large, well-shaped feet. It was purely a thirst for knowledge, not any desire simply to enjoy this embodiment of masculine perfection. There was no need for her to feel guilty when she looked up and saw that his eyes were open and he was watching her, but she did!
‘What are you doing here?’ His voice was hoarse, so low that she had to bend closer to hear him, and she found herself answering just as quietly.
‘I heard a crash. I thought you might need help.’
‘I knocked the lamp over.’ He glanced sideways, his eyes faintly glazed as they turned back to her. ‘I’m thirsty.’
He sounded so different now, his voice rasping softly, sensuously, as he uttered the plaintive statement. Louise felt something warm and almost tender flow through her. She smiled down at him, her eyes softening as she studied his flushed face, the beads of perspiration on his forehead and scattered among the dark hairs that covered his chest. ‘No wonder. You’re still running a temperature. Lie still and I’ll get you something to drink.’
She hurried over to the small built-in fridge and sorted quickly through the contents until she found a bottle of mineral water. She poured some into a glass and carried it back to him, slipping an arm behind his shoulders to help him up so that he could drink. He took a few thirsty swallows before she took the glass away and set it down on the bedside table. ‘That’s enough for now. You don’t want to make yourself sick.’
He grimaced as he sank against the pillows and ran a hand over his face. ‘I doubt if I could be, not after the past couple of hours. I must have broken records for the number of times I’ve been sick, but the doctor said that it was the best thing that could happen.’
‘So he did come, then?’
‘Yes. I take it that you called him?’ He sighed at her nod. ‘There wasn’t any need. He couldn’t give me anything, just told me to drink as much fluid as I could. I just wish I didn’t feel so damned hot.’
‘You’re bound to while your body is still fighting the effects of that squid.’ Automatically she ran a hand down the firm muscles on his upper am, testing the heat of his skin. ‘You could do with sponging down.’
‘If that’s an offer, then I’ll take you up on it.’ He closed his eyes, looking so helpless for a moment that Louise barely stopped to consider what she was doing. She cast one quick glance at him, then hurried through to the bathroom and filled the basin to soak one of the washcloths in cool water. His eyes were still closed when she walked back into the bedroom, but they opened when she started to wipe the cloth over his face and down the strong column of his neck.
‘That feels good,’ he murmured huskily, his pale blue eyes so light and clear in the faint light from the window that they looked like washed silver. ‘You have a marvellous touch, Miss Carter, although I imagine that there have been many men who’ve told you that.’
Her hand stilled for a second, her fingers resting lightly against the base of his neck, where she could feel a pulse tapping steadily. Had there been just the faintest hint of double meaning in that? But if so, what?
‘Surely you’re not shy about carrying on with your ministrations?’
The husky question woke her from the trance and her hand moved on, sliding the damp cloth across his shoulders, back and forth, taking the heat out of his skin. She forced the momentary unsettling thought to the back of her mind, smiling calmly down at him. ‘No, I’m not shy. I must have done this hundreds of times, Mr...’ She laughed faintly, suddenly conscious of how ludicrous the situation was. ‘Do you know that I don’t have any idea what your name is?’
‘No?’ He raised one dark brow in that mocking way she was learning to recognise, if not understand, then slowly his heavy lids lowered and he settled himself deeper into the pillows. ‘Wyatt. That’s my name. Wyatt.’
‘Well, then,
Mr Wyatt, just lie still and rest. There’s no need to feel embarrassed about letting me help you. It’s just a sensible precaution to lower that temperature of yours.’
‘Oh, I’m not embarrassed, Miss Carter. Far from it. I’m sure that you are very experienced in this kind of thing. I shall enjoy reaping the benefits of that.’
The conversation was turning into a riddle, twisting and turning backwards and forwards so that she wasn’t certain what he was saying. A frown puckered her brow, but she carried on sponging him down, her hands moving smoothly and confidently as she stroked the damp cloth over his skin time and again until the steady, measured sound of his breathing told her that he had fallen asleep.
She ran a hand lightly over his chest and shoulders, then felt his forehead with the back of her knuckles. He was much cooler now, his skin barely warmer than her own. Obviously it had done the trick, but she was well aware that his temperature could rise again very quickly, undoing all her good work. She’d wait a while to see how he was then.
She tossed the wet cloth on to the bedside table, then went and sat down in the chair by the window and ran a hand wearily over her face as tiredness enveloped her. She yawned then grimaced, fighting to keep her eyes open and not give in to the almost overwhelming desire to fall asleep. There would be time enough for that later, once she was sure that he was all right. She could go back to her room and sleep the clock round...
CHAPTER TWO
THIS time it was a knock at the door that disturbed her. Louise muttered crossly, keeping her eyes tightly closed as she tried to blot out the irritating sound.
‘Can you get that if you’re awake?’
The deeply masculine voice roused her in a trice. She sat bolt upright, then groaned as her head spun with dizziness. For a blank second she stared down at the chair she was sitting in, then looked round the room she’d been using for almost a week now, confused by the strangeness of it all. Why was the door suddenly on the opposite side of the room? And surely that picture above the tall chest of drawers had been of flowers last time she’d looked, not birds?
Puzzled, her eyes moved on, taking stock of the furnishings, the huge double bed... Her heart leapt into her throat, beating so hard that for a moment she was afraid she would suffocate. Slowly, reluctantly, her gaze slid back to the satin bedspread and travelled across it inch by disbelieving inch. There wasn’t a double bed in her room, so where was she?
The question was quickly followed by the answer—approximately six feet of answer, to be precise. For a stunned minute Louise just stared at the man who emerged from the bathroom, a white towel fastened low around his lean hips. Then in a fast, heart-shaking sweep her eyes ran from the top of his damp black hair to the tips of his naked feet before coming back to rest helplessly on his face.
‘The door,’ he repeated slowly, and icily. ‘Do you think you can answer it?’
‘I...’ Louise scrambled to her feet, staring blankly round the room, and heard him mutter something uncomplimentary as he strode past her. She ran a trembling hand over her hot face, trying to make sense of what was happening, and almost groaned aloud as she remembered the events of the previous night. How could she have been so careless as to let herself fall asleep like that?
‘Surprise! Wyatt, darling, I know I should have called first, but I was just dying to see you, so...here I am!’
The breathlessly eager note in the woman’s voice made Louise wince with embarrassment, although she knew that she was in no position to criticise. She took a slow breath and forced herself to turn towards the door, studying the vision of female beauty who stood framed in its opening. Perfect blonde hair, perfect smooth, pale skin, perfect tailored white trousers and navy spotted blouse, everything about the woman was perfect—too perfect, in fact She looked like a mannequin as she stood there, resting one slender pink-tipped hand on the man’s bare shoulder as she smiled up at him.
‘You don’t really mind me coming, do you, darling?’ Her voice dropped a note, openly seductive now.
‘It might have been better if you’d called, Carling.’ He glanced over his shoulder, his eyes fastening on Louise with a touch of deliberation in the look. ‘It isn’t the most convenient of times for a surprise visit.’
‘Not convenient...?’ The woman’s gaze followed his, her eyes widening when they came to rest on Louise standing by the side of the tumbled bed. In a fast, almost disbelieving curve, they ran across the rumpled satin spread, then over Louise’s body in the pale blue gown and robe, and Louise decided there and then to nip whatever ideas the stranger was getting in the bud.
She pushed her ruffled hair back from her face, forcing a polite smile as she took a step towards the couple, who were standing close together by the door. ‘Hello,’ she said softly. ‘I know this must seem awfully—’
‘Darling, you don’t have to explain. Carling understands about these things.’ The man’s voice was smooth as silk as he moved away from the woman and started back across towards Louise, yet his eyes held a hard glint that robbed Louise of the ability to speak for a moment. Confused, she stared back at him, then gasped as he slid an arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer so that she could feel the warmth of his big body all down the side of her breast and hip, smell the clean fragrance of soap that clung to his skin. The sensations made her feel almost giddy by their very unfamiliarity, and he took full advantage of the moment. His hand slid under her chin, warm and firm as he tilted her face and stared into her startled eyes for a moment then bent and kissed her hard on the mouth.
When he raised his head Louise couldn’t have spoken to save her life, too stunned by what he’d done and the effect one kiss could have. She’d been kissed before many times, but she couldn’t remember ever feeling as though her heart was going to beat itself to pulp inside her chest.
She breathed slowly, willing herself to find the strength to handle this unexpected twist, but didn’t have time to utter a single word before the man continued in that same smooth-as-silk tone, ‘I think I should introduce you two ladies, don’t you?’ He laughed softly, intimately, as his arm clasped Louise’s shoulders even tighter. ‘Louise, darling, I’d like you to meet Carling Hutton. Her father owns this hotel and the rest of the chain I’m negotiating to buy at present. Carling...my fiancée, Louise Carter.’
She couldn’t have felt more stunned if he’d hit her! Louise just stared at him, her eyes black with shock, before suddenly coming to her senses. This whole episode was fast turning into one of those Whitehall farces her parents had used to love so much: all it would need now was an irate husband with a shot-gun bursting into the room to complete the scene! But if he thought that she was going along with whatever he was plotting he could think again!
She pulled away from him, her face flushed with colour. ‘Look, I’ve no idea what you think you’re doing, but—’
He smiled as he pressed a long finger against her lips to stern the heated flow of words. ‘I know, I know, honey. I shouldn’t have said anything about our engagement until we’ve had time to tell your parents the marvellous news, but Carling is a trusted friend. She wouldn’t dream of letting the cat out of the bag and spoiling the surprise. Would you, Carling?’
There was a momentary pause, then the woman spoke, a smile pasted to her pink-tinted lips. ‘Of course not, Wyatt. You know I wouldn’t dream of doing anything to spoil your...happiness. Congratulations to you both. I must admit this has come as a bit of a surprise. I don’t know how you managed to keep your...friendship with Miss Carter from the Press, Wyatt. They’re usually keen to keep abreast of what the great Wyatt Lord gets up to.’
There was just the faintest trace of scepticism in the woman’s voice, but Louise was less concerned with that than the fact that not only did she suddenly have a fiancé, but that she hadn’t even known his real name. Wyatt Lord. She rolled the name round and round as she studied his handsome face, the clean-cut lines of his profile, but she couldn’t ever remember hearing of him before.
&
nbsp; ‘I think the Press have started to give up on me lately.’ He laughed deeply, catching Louise’s hand to twine his fingers with hers. ‘I’ve been a bit of a recluse over recent months, and I have this little lady to thank for that.’
Louise winced at the endearment and tried to snatch her hand away. She was nobody’s ‘little lady’, and especially not his, and it was about time she made that clear! ‘Look, this has gone on long enough, don’t you think? I have no idea what—’
Once again he stopped her, pulling her into his arms to hold her so close that she could barely breathe as he kissed her with punishing hardness, his eyes glittering a warning as he stared down at her. ‘You mustn’t be embarrassed, honey. I know this isn’t the way we planned it to happen, but...’ He shrugged lightly, his arms dropping to loop around the back of her waist and keep her pressed tightly against him as he looked over her head at Carling. Louise could feel every inch of his muscular chest through the thin fabric of her robe and gown, could feel the dampness of the towel that covered his hips, the strength of his thighs where they touched hers, and her mouth went dry at the sheer intimacy of what he was doing. Kisses and a little light lovemaking she’d experienced and could handle, but this...this was something way beyond her limited experience!
She barely heard him when he carried on speaking, too busy trying to cope with the multitude of mixed emotions she was feeling: embarrassment, anger and a strange heady languor, a feeling that she wanted to stay in his arms, pressed against his powerful body, forever...
Her head jerked up, her face flaming at the thought, and she suddenly came to her senses in time to hear him say softly, ‘I’m afraid that nature took care of the rest. We didn’t mean to pre-empt our wedding night, but after all Louise’s tender care last night when I was so ill... I’m sure you understand, Carling, don’t you? And don’t feel that Louise should be feeling embarrassed or ashamed of what happened this morning.’
Oh, enough was enough! She might not have followed the conversation from start to finish, but it didn’t take a genius to work out what he’d been telling the other woman. If he imagined that she was going to allow Carling to leave this room thinking that she and Wyatt Lord had slept together, then he could think again.
Playing at Love Page 2