Kelly's Man (5 page)

But even while she made the resolve, a voice deep inside her, a treacherous voice which refused to be stilled, told her that never before had she felt quite so stirred as when the lean-fingered hands had moved over her and hard lips had crushed down on hers. Gary had kissed her often, and before him there had been others. But never had she been kissed with such ruthless expertise, and never before had she felt quite so vitally and vibrantly alive.

She was frowning as she entered the main building and made for the office. She would
not
let herself dwell on Nicholas Van Mijden again. In any event, she would be too busy with Mary's chores to think of anything else. The two days would pass quickly. Once she left Great Peaks Lodge she would never need to see the rugged-featured farmer again.

The desk clerk had obviously been briefed by Nicholas, for he did not look surprised when she asked to see the list of bookings. Already the first of the engineers had arrived for the convention which was to start the next day. The reservations had been made weeks ago, but Mary had asked Kelly to double-check to make sure that each man would have a room. The hotel would indeed be crowded for the next few days. As Mary had said, only one room was not accounted for, and that was obviously the one which Nicholas would use.

Handing the book back to the clerk, Kelly determined that she would do all she could to ensure the success of the convention. She knew enough about her father's business operations to know that a hotel which could be relied on would be used again. Conventions would be a good source of income, particularly in slack seasons. The Andersons must have been looking forward to this one. George's accident could probably not have occurred at a more inconvenient time.

Kelly attended to the duties on the list one by one. The day wore on, she wondered if Nicholas had returned from town. If he had, she had not seen him. She had managed very well without him. Perhaps she could even manage without him altogether. Mary's explanations had been fairly detailed, and if there was something she needed to know there would be a housemaid or one of the kitchen staff whom she could ask.

Afternoon tea was served on the wide veranda with its lovely view into the mountains. A uniformed waiter brought out the tea trolley which was laden with cups and saucers. There was a dish of
small
home-baked biscuits, and a tall urn
containing the tea. It was Mary's custom to preside at the trolley, handing out cups and saying a few friendly words to each guest. Now Kelly took her place.

There was an atmosphere of relaxed informality on the verandah. There were families who were spending their holidays at Great Peaks Lodge, and there were young couples, some of them obviously honeymooners. But the greatest proportion of guests was made up of the men who had arrived for the convention. They had been arriving in greater numbers during the last hour or two, and when they had been served their tea they sat down in groups, looking travel-weary and glad to be away from their offices for a while. Kelly guessed that to many of them a convention, despite the work it entailed, was also a welcome break from the daily routine.

'You're new here,' said one of the men as he took his cup from Kelly. 'I was expecting to see Mrs Anderson.'

Kelly looked up and smiled, liking what she saw. The man had evidently been a guest here many times before if he knew Mary's routine. 'Mrs Anderson is away for a few days.' She paused a moment, then, knowing that the incident would in any event be common knowledge before the day was over, she went on, 'Mr Anderson had an accident. He's in hospital.'

'I'm sorry to hear it.' The kindly face was concerned. 'Is it serious?'

'I... I hope not.'

Something of her anxiety and unhappiness must have communicated itself to him. He studied her a moment without speaking. Then he said, Look, I'm all alone. When you've finished what you're doing, why don't you bring your cup and join me?'

They were the first friendly words she had heard since Mary had left with Nicholas. It was only now, as she looked into the pleasant face of the man before her, that she realised how much she dreaded Nicholas's return. She was also very tired. 'I'd like that,' she smiled.

His name was Andrew Lang, and he was in his mid-thirties, about the same age as Nicholas, Kelly realised. But there all similarity ended. Where Nicholas Van Mijden's rugged features gave an impression of toughness and steel and even a latent savageness, Andrew Lang appeared friendly and gentle and refined. Kelly did not need to know him better to realise there would be warmth in his personality, and kindness. Most important of all, she thought there would be understanding without judgment.

She had not intended to talk with any of the guests about what had happened. But with this man it seemed natural. After telling him of George's accident, she told him also of her own part in it.

'I'm so ashamed,' she said presently. It was an admission she could not have made to Nicholas.

'Ashamed?' Andrew Lang looked at her thoughtfully. 'I don't think you should be. We all make mistakes, and you were thinking of your fiance---'

His expression altered a fraction, and she wondered if he put the blame for what had happened on Gary. Before she could say a word in her fiance's defence, he continued, 'What counts is that you're making amends. And I think that's tremendous.'

'Really?' She looked at him gratefully. And then, before she could stop herself, 'I wish Mr Van Mijden was so understanding.'

'Does he know who you are?'

'Yes.' Looking across the table, Kelly met the gaze of steady brown eyes. So Andrew Lang knew too that she was John Stanwick's daughter. It surprised her sometimes to realise that her father's name was so well known.

'And that means nothing to him?'

Kelly pondered the question a moment before answering. It seemed to indicate that her background
did
mean something to Andrew Lang. She now wondered if it did to Gary, as it did to most people with whom she came into contact. Only Nicholas was unimpressed by her father's position. It came to her with a sense of surprise that if his attitude was autocratic it was also oddly refreshing. She smiled wryly. 'It increases his contempt.'

'Mr Van Mijden must be a tyrant I' Andrew exclaimed angrily.

'So, Miss Stanwick, you complain about me to our guests?' The question was drawled unexpectedly from behind her.

Kelly spun round, the colour draining from her cheeks. Nicholas looked very tall, very stern. His lips were curved in a smile, but there was flint in the narrowed grey eyes.

'How dare you!' Andrew Lang leaped to his feet before Kelly could speak. 'I take it you know who this lady is?'

'Doesn't everybody?' Nicholas laughed mirthlessly, then addressed himself to Kelly. 'Come, Miss Stanwick, you have work to do.'

In other circumstances Kelly would have answered him back. It was one thing to have agreed to stand in for Mary, quite another to be at the beck and call of Nicholas Van Mijden, to give in to him as if she were some servile creature without any spirit. A stinging retort was on the tip of her tongue, but she managed to suppress it. It did not need Nicholas's warning glance to tell her that too many interested guests were within earshot.

Andrew's hand was on her arm as she stood up. 'Have dinner with me tonight.'

'That will be impossible,' Nicholas declined for her. 'Miss Stanwick will be busy in the kitchen.'

Kelly looked quickly from one man to the other. Andrew Lang's pleasant face was taut with indignation. Nicholas was still smiling, but the sardonic glitter in the grey eyes was daunting. Tension sparked the air. For one uneasy moment Kelly wondered if Andrew was about to step out of character and do something foolish—like hitting out at Nicholas perhaps—something that afterwards he would bitterly regret.

'Maybe I'll see you later this evening,' she said in a hurried attempt to breach the tension of the moment. It was only when they were walking towards the kitchen that she turned angrily on the tall figure beside her. 'You went out of your way to put Andrew in his place. Must you be so brutal always?'

'So it's Andrew, is it?' Nicholas ignored the question. 'I'll say this, you're a fast worker, Kelly Stanwick.'

'You make too much of a friendly chat over tea,' Kelly said icily. 'Besides, Gary trusts me.'

'How very misguided!' came the malicious rejoinder.

No point in continuing the sparring, Kelly decided. The man was insufferable, but perhaps the days would pass quickly. When she left the Drakensberg, Nicholas Van Mijden would be no more than an unpleasant memory.

To change the subject she asked, 'Any news of George?'

'I wondered when you'd ask.' His tone was level. 'The tests are not yet complete, but they hope to operate tomorrow.'

Caught by an inflection in the words, Kelly looked up quickly. Nicholas was watching her, his eyes narrowed and unreadable. She felt suddenly frightened. 'It isn't just his leg, then?'

'It's possible that his back was injured in the fall.'

'Oh, no!' Shock made Kelly numb. She stopped quite still and put a hand on Nicholas's arm. For a moment she forgot that the man was her enemy. 'Oh, no, Nicholas!' She did not notice that she had used his name for the first time. Even the fact that his arm had stiffened at her touch did not impinge on her awareness.

His eyes were as inscrutable as before as they skimmed the slender body from head to foot. But his voice, when he spoke, had lost just a little of its harshness. 'It was a bad fall.'

'Yes.' She bit her lip. Tears pricked at her eyelids but she tried to blink them back. 'He was lying so awkwardly and ... I suppose I should have guessed ... But... Well, I was just so anxious that he might fall from the ledge that I didn't think about his back.' She dashed a treacherous tear from a soft cheek. 'Will he be all right, Mr Mijden?'

'I hope so,' he said gravely. Unexpectedly a hand reached for her chin, turning her face upwards. There were more tears now, trembling on her lashes, but he did not comment on them. 'You called me Nicholas.'

'Yes ...' The fingers on her chin caused a burning sensation, and in the eyes that gazed steadily down into hers was an enigmatic expression which was unnerving. She was suddenly breathless.

'Let's keep it that way, Kelly.'

Her heartbeat accelerated, then returned to normal when he added matter-of-factly, 'Informality is the custom at Great Peaks Lodge.'

As they went on walking Nicholas explained the nature of her kitchen duties. Most of it she already knew from Mary, some was new. She let him talk without interruption. She was only half listening to what he said. To her dismay she found that she was acutely aware of him, that his physical impact swept all else from her mind.

He was tall, even taller than she had at first realised, and he moved with a lithe, animal-like ease.

She glanced at him once, quickly, while he was talking, and then she looked away. There was something intensely disturbing about him, an air of sensual virility which made her feel uncertain and vulnerable, and at the same time very excited.

He had disturbed her from the moment she had first seen him on the fateful afternoon when Gary had asked George to be their guide. Every encounter with Nicholas had made her dislike him more, nevertheless she seemed unable to stop herself reacting to him. Just as the kisses in the card- room had played havoc with her senses, so the hand on her chin and the use of her name just a few moments ago had been enough to quicken her heartbeat. With all the men she had ever known, and they included Gary, Kelly could not remember a similar reaction.

She was being fanciful, she told herself firmly. The novelty of her situation together with the arrogant personality of the man who had, in his own way, forced her into it, had combined to make her think and feel in a manner which was quite foreign to her.

She was glad when they came to the kitchens. Kelly, who had eaten in restaurants all her adult life, had never given much thought to what went on behind the scenes. The big kitchen was all shining chrome and sparkling countertops. It was still two hours until dinner, but already the place was a hub of activity.

One man was the meat chef, another was in charge of the vegetables. The menus had been prepared for the month, and the chefs and kitchen hands knew their duties. But with all the organisation, an overall supervision was nonetheless necessary. It seemed it was Mary's custom to remain in the kitchen not only for the hours before dinner was served, but also while the meal was in progress. Kelly would now take her place.

A little helplessly she looked about her. Even the lowest of the kitchen-hands must know more than she did. Then she saw Nicholas watching her, and it came to her that he was aware of her feelings, her sense of inadequacy.

She lifted her head. She
would
cope! Helpless she might feel, but she would not give Nicholas the satisfaction of knowing it.

'Do you think you can manage?' he asked.

'Of course.' An icy rejoinder with an autocratic stare to match his own.

'Good,' he said briefly, and turned away, but not before Kelly caught a glimmer in his eyes which, incredibly, seemed to indicate approval. Oddly it gave her spirits a strange lift.

The next two hours were among the busiest Kelly had ever spent. Not that she did any actual work—chefs, aides, waiters, all knew their functions. But, as if they needed a focal point, a frame of reference, they turned often to Kelly. No matter that she was not Mary, nor that she was totally inexperienced. She was Mary's substitute, and as such she seemed to give them reassurance.

Only when the dinner hour was nearing its end did Nicholas come for her. She followed him to a candlelit table in the corner of the dining-room. Until that moment she had not realised that she was hungry, but when the first course was placed before her she thought that food had never tasted so good.

For a while they ate in silence, then Nicholas said, 'You did all right.'

Kelly looked up from her plate. His eyes were on her, dark and hooded, for once with no suggestion of mockery. She wondered how long he had been watching her. You did all right... Just four simple works, spoken quietly and without expression. Yet from the lips of this stern-featured man with the unrelenting manner they were praise indeed.