Debra acknowledged that there and then, she was at peace with the world. Maybe it was her earlier climax, maybe it was the thought that she would soon see her family again, but she had a perfect sense of contentment.
She turned toward the pool area and leaned on the gate to look over into the water.
The gate opened and nearly deposited her knees first on the floor. Either the lock was faulty, or someone hadn’t turned the key, because it stated in the hotel information booklet that the pool was locked from dusk to dawn.
Tonight it wasn’t.
Debra bit her lip and considered her options. On the one hand it should be locked and she didn’t want to get anyone in trouble. On the other, it was hot and sticky, the humidity seemed to have descended with dusk and she hadn’t kicked over the traces since the belly dancing and… She shut that thought off.
Sod it, I always said I wanted to swim at midnight. Actually she’d said from a beach at midnight, but beggars couldn’t be choosers and it was a perfect opportunity. Debra looked down at her sundress. She wasn’t subjecting it to chlorine, but her underwear maybe. Before she had time to change her mind she pulled the dress over her head, flung it on a nearby chair, kicked off her flip-flops and dove in.
Into water as soft as silk and as warm as a perfect bath.
* * * *
Abraham Van Meister, Braam to his friends, Mr. Van Meister to his business associates and ‘that Bloody Van Meister’ to his enemies, of whom he guessed there were more than a few, stretched his arms and yawned. At least he was able to hand the hotel over to the night manager and think about what was going to happen next. A glass of wine and a good night’s sleep he hoped. Sadly not in his own bed. It wasn’t worth the journey out to Sai Kung on the mainland, just to get back for six in the morning. In a few more days he’d be able to leave the new manager to fend for himself whilst Braam had a couple of welcome days away from the hotel. Once away he’d not think about the ex-manager, the ex-head receptionist and a missing several hundreds of thousands of pounds.
As a troubleshooter for the Channing chain, Braam reported directly to Mike Channing, the grandson of the founder and now CEO of the company. He liked and respected Mike who generally let him get on and do his job without interference.
Braam was no stranger to mysteries and underhanded dealings, but why a trusted manager had felt it necessary to abscond with the money and the nothing out of the ordinary head receptionist, he couldn’t understand. There had been no triggers to point to the happenings until Braam had had a phone call from head office, which had interrupted an overdue holiday. It was a plea to cut the vacation short and return to Hong Kong, try to sort things out and help a new manager to settle in.
“Don’t worry if you see our esteemed Head of Human Resources pop by. He’s out in Asia soon and bloody worried like the rest of us about this mess,” Braam had been told by Danielle, Mike’s PA. “Just a heads-up, not that I think you’ll need it.”
So far, Alex Chin had been nowhere to be seen, but he wouldn’t be at all surprised if that changed now that Braam was due to move on.
A few weeks earlier, Braam’s proposed companion on his sun, sea and—hopefully—sex break had made up her mind she wanted the sort of commitment Braam didn’t feel toward her. The upshot was that she had canceled her booking. Therefore he’d had no problem in returning to his home city and the troubled hotel.
Sadly, though, he’d spent more nights sleeping at the hotel than in his house on the outskirts of the fishing village of Sai Kung. Two more nights after this, he promised himself, then three nights in his own bed. Solo, but his.
“All’s well, Sidney,” he said to the serious Chinese man who was the duty night manager. “I’m going to walk around the roof terrace to smell the fresh air, then grab a glass of Merlot and turn in. Ring me if you need me.”
“Sure thing, Mr. Van Meister, but I reckon I’ll not need to. You get a good night’s sleep and I’ll see you in the morning.”
Braam nodded and caught up his jacket to slip his finger through the neck loop and hook it over his shoulder. A few minutes to de-kink his muscles and fill his lungs with fresh, or as fresh as Hong Kong air got, and he’d head to his room and the bottle of wine he had waiting for him there. He wasn’t a big drinker, but a glass of wine as he wound down was welcome.
He ignored the thoughts about a much more pleasurable way to wind down that slid into his mind. One that involved him and the woman he’d seen in the park earlier. The curvy brunette with the cheeky grin had interested him—and his cock—more than a little. She’d stood and watched him run toward her and his body had tightened at the blatant interest he saw in her expression. If he hadn’t been pushed for time, he’d have tried to talk to her for longer. Braam was sure the old lady he spoke to most days had winked at him in encouragement.
He was certain his mystery lady had been checking in when he’d been in the foyer with the new manager earlier that day. However, it hadn’t been possible to find out who she was without seeming like a stalker and making the receptionists wonder what was wrong.
Story of my life. The ones I’m interested in don’t see me and the ones who are interested in me scare me senseless. Or want more than I’ve got to give. Braam got into the lift and pressed the button for the roof. Ten minutes, he promised himself. Ten mindless stress-reducing minutes and he’d turn in.
The lift slid to a halt and Braam got out and walked toward the edge of the building. He loved it up there at night, when the sounds of the city were muted and the stars vied with the city lights to illuminate the sky.
Tonight the sky was almost cloudless, except for the Peak’s semi-permanent veil and it was bright enough to see his way around the garden using the few security lights that came on automatically at dusk.
As he reached the entrance into the pool area, he heard splashing and noticed that the gate was open.
He took a step toward it then hesitated. The area should be locked and secure, but by the sound of it, someone had managed to unlock the gate. If his ears didn’t deceive him, that person was swimming.
Braam’s first thought was anger and that someone needed a kick up the arse for negligence. His second was that whoever it was swimming couldn’t sing for toffee. The off-key rendition of ‘Just Keep Swimming’ from Finding Nemo was excruciating. It stopped mid verse and there was a loud splash then silence. Braam pushed open the door to the pool area and looked at the rippled surface of the water. A few bubbles popped up from the depths but the singer-swimmer was nowhere to be seen.
He waited anxiously as the seconds passed. All he could see were those damned bubbles. Shit, had they drowned singing that stupid song? There was nothing for it. Braam pulled his shirt over his head and heard buttons pop and roll over the floor tiles, as he dragged it from his body and threw it over a handy bush.
Bloody hell, why me? He fumbled with his belt buckle and drew the belt through the loops that held it in place before he grasped the tag of his zip and lowered it.
“What the…? Argh.” The voice was female and not as outraged as he’d have thought it should be when an intruder faced a semi-naked man.
Braam stopped pulling his trousers down over his hips and glared at the woman who had popped up from under the water and was floating as if she didn’t have a care in the world.
“It should be me saying that.”
“Pardon?” She did a perfect roll under the water and he caught a glimpse of bright red underwear—there was no way on earth the scraps of lace were a bikini—before she popped up again and pushed her dark hair out of her eyes.
“Saying ‘what the…? Argh’,” Braam said and chuckled. “And adding you’re not supposed to be here at this time of night.”
She stared up at him and grinned. The moon appeared from behind a cloud and his pulse jumped like a flea in a circus. It was her. His mystery lady.
“So I am, or should that be am not?” She swirled her arms, and the moonlight caught the ripples and sent
tiny moonbeams dancing over the surface of the pool. “Which means unless you’re the night watchman…?” Her voice trailed off mid-sentence, on a querying note.
Braam shook his head.
“Then neither should you. So why don’t you join me? Or is jogging the only exercise you do?” She tilted her head to one side and swam in lazy circles around the island in the center of the pool.
Does she know there’s innuendo in that statement?
“Come on, live dangerously. You know you shouldn’t swim alone at night.” She laughed. “So in actual fact, we’ll be helping each other.”
Why not? Braam pushed the sides of his trousers apart and kicked them off his legs with scant care to creases. The suit needed to go to the cleaners anyway. An over anxious sous chef had made sure of that when Braam had checked the buffet earlier.
He left his boxers on—after all there was such a thing as over-familiarity—and dove in.
The water closed over his head and he pushed to the surface. It was like swimming in a Jacuzzi without the bubbles. The warmth surrounded him as he swam toward the woman leaning against the edge of the pool with her arms stretched out to hold her in place.
“So, hello, Ms. Intruder. We meet again.” He trod water and moved his arms and hands to stay in front of her and not enter into her personal space. As much as he’d have liked to crowd her, demand who she was and why she was there, he knew better.
“It seems we do. Nothing more mysterious than the ways of the world, eh?” She chuckled and splashed water with her legs. “Is this where I say fancy meeting you here? Or we must quit meeting like this, people will talk?”
There was no doubt about that, especially if the night manager turned the security cameras on. Braam angled his body then swam around the island so that if that did happen, his face wouldn’t be seen. There was one spot where the cameras didn’t reach, but was visible to the lifeguards when they were on duty. As he hoped, the lady swam after him, until they reached what he termed the safe area.
“Are we playing tag?” Her voice was husky and it lifted his libido and his cock by several notches. In fact, his cock was pressing against his boxers and even the water couldn’t come to his aid so he didn’t get harder by the minute. This woman intrigued him.
“I can think of better things to play.”
Her eyes widened and the laugh she gave went straight to his dick and hinted at all things erotic.
“Such as? Ludo? Scrabble, or, I know, Hotel?” She ran her tongue around her lips in an unconscious invitation to plunder and Braam was hard pressed not to groan.
“You show me yours and I’ll show you mine…” Braam paused. “Hotel, I mean, what else?”
She giggled. It wasn’t the silly sound a young girl would make, but a deep, sexy noise. “How about Kiss Chase?”
In one swift movement the lady pushed off the side, kissed him hard on the lips and turned to swim away. He was too fast for her. Braam held her by the shoulders, tread water and kissed her back.
She groaned deep into his mouth and let her tongue swirl with his. Her body floated next to his and her breasts teased his chest. The thin lace that covered her was no barrier to hide how her nipples stood out. Braam slid one leg between hers and moved one hand to hold her ass and push her tight against him.
She wriggled and ground her pussy on his cock. Yet again, the few scraps of lace she wore were negligible. Even so it took immense control not to rip them away and have nothing between them. Instead he held her close, let her rub herself on him and savored the moment. Braam swam them backwards a few feet until he could rest on a ledge a foot or so underwater and sit his lady on his knees with her legs either side and her pussy open to his cock. It was teasing, tantalizing and downright enjoyable. Judging by the shivers and mewls she made as he nibbled her ear and scattered kisses over her face and mouth, she agreed. Her hands played with his nipples.
Until his cock gave notice that a few more seconds’ play and they’d need to clean the pool out. He was so close to coming it hurt.
Braam pulled back and she moaned in protest.
“Honey, I’m so close to coming it’s painful. We need to get out and find somewhere more suitable.” He towed her to the roman steps at one end of the pool and glanced around the area. Not even a sunbed had been left out.
His lady looked dazed and her eyes were misty.
“Eh?”
“We can’t come in the pool. Well, I can’t. We need to… Holy hell and fuck.”
She sat up, half out of the water, and rubbed her face. “That sounds rude, and hold on, we need to fuck? Who says?”
“Well, you didn’t say we didn’t a few minutes ago,” Braam said. “But we need condoms. I don’t suppose you have one with you?”
“Con… Argh, shit and fuck. No, strangely I don’t. They’re not something I feel I need when I go for a walk at midnight.” She sounded horrified. “Even if it does include an illicit swim. You?”
He shook his head. “Sadly no. I mean where would I carry it?
She got out of the pool and looked around her. “Apart from that, I don’t make a habit of screwing with strangers, even with a condom. Where’s a towel? Blame it on the moon, oh, I don’t know, temporary insanity or jet lag or something. Pure fucking stupidity. Look, if you try anything, I’ve got a black belt in karate. So, towels?”
“Locked away. Along with sunbeds, robes and all things needed to fuck.” He paused. “Or dry off.”
She shut her eyes and sighed. “Figures. Oh, Lord, what have I done?”
“Nothing yet, and in the future? Up to you, but let me say, I seem to have been inflicted by the same bout of insanity if that’s any consolation.”
“It isn’t. I guess I’ll have to do the walk of shame in a dress sticking to my wet body.”
“Or we could make love and dry off that way?” Braam suggested. He could have bitten his tongue out. Do I have a death wish? When will I learn to keep my mouth shut?
“Or not. Sorry. But I don’t even know your name. Isn’t it at least polite to be introduced or something?”
She shivered and Braam stood up and left the pool to grab his shirt.
“Here, use this to dry off.” He handed her the shirt and walked to the other side of the pool where his jacket and trousers were. “My name is Abraham,” he said as he used his jacket to soak up the bulk of the moisture on him. It looked like even the dry cleaners wouldn’t save it. “Braam to my friends.”
There was silence from the other side of the pool.
“And you?”
His answer was to hear the faint noise of the lift descending.
Braam swore. Long, loud and in several languages of his mixed heritage as he ran around the pool area and across the garden to the lift.
His shirt lay on the tiles in front of the lift doors. Above it on the wall, the floor indicator mocked him as it said its destination. Ground.
Sod it. If she were a guest, she wouldn’t want the ground floor, not at that time of night. Even reception wasn’t there. That was on the first floor, along with the public bar. If she wasn’t a guest, how the hell had she got up to the terrace? Any floor above the first could only be accessed by using a registered room key. He was damned sure he’d seen her check in, so she was playing games with him.
Braam knew when he’d been outwitted. Sadly his cock didn’t and he was going to have to decide between a cold shower or a hand job. Neither appealed to him. He struggled into his suit, which chafed on his wet, sensitive skin, closed the gate then locked it with his security code. Whoever opened up in the morning would need to find him. Dammit, that meant being awake and alert before seven.
Not in the best of moods, he made his way back to his room.
And the shower.
Nevertheless he made a mental note to buy condoms.
Chapter Two
Idiotic, stupid, moronic me. Crappy, shitty, arsehole him. Debra, you’re losing it. You almost shagged a total stranger in the swimming pool of a
five-star hotel. Shit, and it was so high up, I could have about qualified for the mile-high club without a plane. And, oh my God, without a condom. Am I the most stupid person in the world to dish out the advice and almost ignore it?
Debra castigated herself as she tossed and turned in the super-king bed and punched her pillows much as she would have liked to have punched her mystery man. Which wasn’t fair. After all, it was her own fault he’d come on so strongly. She’d practically jumped the poor guy’s bones. How she’d managed to have the strength to leave, she had no idea. Especially after spotting the tiny tattoo outlined on his thigh. It looked like a Chinese symbol and she itched to trace her fingers over it. Had he spotted one very similar on her ass, or had the thin lacy knickers covered it? How could she act so out of character? She who’d spent the last year in her mental iron knickers and avoiding any scenario that could be even remotely called sexual.
It was all well and good muttering about sex-starved, middle-aged woman hormones or pheromones or something, but what about STDs and stuff?
She banged her head on the pillow. What an idiot.
Thank goodness he’d had the sense to remember condoms and she’d had enough wits about her to bolt when she could and go to the foyer to put him off her tracks. She’d walked up too many flights of stairs to count to get back to her room, half hoping he’d find her and half not. He hadn’t and now as dawn lightened her room, she had to be thankful. All sorts of worst case scenarios crowded her brain and made her shudder.
I need to buy condoms, just in case. Although she was sure her run and hide actions of the night before would have put an end to anything that might have been in the future. That’s how it should be. And I ought to be grateful I got off lightly. I don’t even know who he is, except Braam, Braam to his friends. She remembered how he’d accentuated the ‘a’. He knows me as the woman who skipped out on him, nothing else. Not an encouraging beginning to a friendship or any other sort of ‘ship’, so best to forget it and move on. But, dammit, I really would like to get to know him under more auspicious circumstances. Maybe he was a doyen of the area, a pillar of society and a sincere single man whom the hotel could vouch for?
Hong Kong Heat Page 2