Temporary Intrigue (2 page)

“Well, if everything’s all right I’ll get going.” He wasn’t sure what was keeping him. There were people waiting, and yet he was lingering.

The strawberry lips suddenly seemed very close to his. As he watched, they parted.

“Do you have a phone?”

“A what?”

“A phone. I need to call a friend. Urgently.”

Stress vibes radiated from her. He hesitated. Then, shrugging, he took the phone out of his pocket, hoping her friend wasn’t in Alaska.

Despite the apparent urgency, she didn’t take it. Josh raised his eyebrows and waited. Finally, keeping her elbow clamped against her side, she extended her right forearm. Nonplussed, he put the phone into her hand, moved back and hooked his thumbs in his belt. Her attitude said she wanted privacy, but darned if he was going to risk her decamping with his phone. If she didn’t want him to hear her side of the conversation there was nothing to stop her turning her back and lowering her voice while she made her call.

Finally, holding the phone awkwardly, keeping the elbow braced against her side, she punched in digits with her thumb. Rather than raising it to her ear, she bent her head down towards it then gave a frustrated exclamation before dialling again.

Perhaps this was a television set-up, Josh thought suddenly. One of those programmes to see how polite the average person was when confronted with bizarre behaviour.

He was looking around for hidden cameras when she spoke.

“I’ve tried two numbers. They’re both busy.”

The occasion hardly seemed to warrant the despair in her voice. Remembering again that he was supposed to be somewhere else, Josh glanced at his watch.

“Right. Sorry, but I have to go.”

She nodded, looking miserably resigned to being deserted.

“Your children said you were sailing this afternoon.”

”What children?” This was getting weirder by the minute.

“They were talking to me just then. Aren’t they yours?”

“Those freaky-faced kids? Why on earth would they be mine?”

Her woebegone expression changed to a glare.

“
I
painted those faces.”

Josh remembered hearing that today was the start of a three-day sailing regatta in Newcastle. Through the hotel’s plate glass windows he had seen boats dotting the harbour and families crowding the grassy foreshore in the late autumn sunshine to enjoy carnival rides, market stalls, clowns and other activities associated with the regatta.

Including face painting, it seemed.

“Right. Yes, they’re very good. Very – bright.”

So she was some sort of artist. Maybe that accounted for the eccentricity.

“Do you want to give it one more try?” He nodded at the phone, still clutched in her hand.

“I don’t think I’ll bother.”

Josh waited for her to hand the phone back. But her head had turned towards two people approaching them.

With an inward groan Josh recognised Gail Addison, the Global Homes regional marketing manager, who had been dogging his footsteps since he arrived from Sydney a couple of hours ago. Tall and thin, wearing an immaculate cream skirt and jacket combo, with her auburn hair upswept into a chignon, she radiated five-star elegance and confidence. Her male companion, short and swarthy, was also dressed to kill in a blue suit and flashy yellow tie.

“Josh!” Gail took his arm possessively. “Are you coming down for a drink? We’re starting lunch soon.”

“I was on my way.” Almost gagging on a blast of her strong French perfume, Josh gave her a polite smile.

“Malcolm,” he added, nodding at the hotel’s functions manager, one of the staff members he had met that morning.

Both newcomers glanced automatically at the girl as if expecting an introduction, then both did double takes. Gail’s thin eyebrows almost disappeared into her hairline. Malcolm’s gaze lingered lasciviously on the pink-edged cleavage.

“Not interrupting, are we?” His eyes flickered meaningly to Josh’s shoulder.

Glancing down, Josh saw that the pale blue fabric, previously pristine pure, was now adorned with a vivid strawberry smear.

He uttered an annoyed exclamation. Malcolm smirked. Gail looked outraged.

“We had a bit of a collision,” Josh said. If he buttoned the jacket, he calculated, it might hide the stain.

“Don’t I know you from somewhere?” Malcolm resumed his interested study of the girl.

“I don’t think so.” The voice was Grace Kelly cool, but the enormous sunglasses turned Josh’s way and he sensed a mute appeal.

“Okay,” he said briskly, “let’s go.”

He began walking back down the corridor. Still attached to his arm, Gail went with him.

Behind them, Malcolm clicked his fingers.

“Got it.”

Josh turned. Malcolm’s teeth were flashing under the small black moustache that matched his slicked-back hair.

“I’ve seen you at Shenanigans,” he told the girl. “You’re a real stayer, aren’t you – always hanging around to the bitter end. Popular local nightclub,” he added over his shoulder to Josh.

“Really?” said Josh coldly. He glanced at the girl, the colour of whose cheeks now matched her lipstick.

“I go there from time to time to check out the competition,” Malcolm added with a chortle.

“Very conscientious.” About to walk off again with Gail, Josh stopped as Malcolm gave the sunglasses an impudent flick.

“Shouldn’t hide your light under a bushel. Hey! What a pair of beauties!”

He whistled admiringly, his gaze skimming between her black eyes and the top of her pink jacket.

“How’s the other bloke?”

She yanked the glasses back into place. Her voice was low, but fierce.

“He’s wearing compression shorts and speaking three levels higher than before. Want a demonstration?”

Recoiling with a forced laugh, Malcolm backed into Josh.

“Weren’t you leaving?” Josh asked softly.

“On my way.” Malcolm side-stepped around him and headed towards Gail who was waiting where Josh had left her.

“I forgot my phone,” Josh told the girl.

Without raising her arm she opened her hand, nodding her head towards it. More bemused than ever, he retrieved the phone. Judging by the way she’d dealt with Malcolm she seemed quite capable of looking after herself, but for some reason he felt like a heel leaving her.

“They’ll probably let you make a call from reception,” he said.

“Yes, probably.”

“Well, okay.” With a final dubious look he moved off to join Gail and Malcolm.

“Do you know that – person?” Gail asked as they reached the lift.

“Not really.”

“I’ll send security up to check on her,” Gail decided. “You can’t be too careful these days.”

Josh stabbed the down button. Gail was right, of course. There
was
something strange about the way the girl was loitering in the corridor. Calling security was the sensible thing to do.

Much more sensible than looking back to see if she was still there.

Keeping his eyes sternly on the lift door, he shrugged into his jacket.

So she reminded him of a sad clown in need of help. So what? He’d done all he could. He now had other things to do.

He looked back.

****

Tilting her sunglasses halfway up her forehead, watching her last hope retreating down the hallway, Dimity tried to quell her rising panic.

The lift bell chimed. They seemed to be having a quick discussion. Then the woman and the smaller man disappeared into the lift.

The other man was walking back towards her.

She adjusted the glasses hurriedly, peering through them as if into night as the tall figure in the dark suit stopped in front of her.

“There could be a security guard up here soon. You might like to head off before he arrives.”

If only.

His voice was quiet, with a pleasant, slightly clipped accent. American? Canadian?

Dragging her mind back from irrelevancies, Dimity decided it was now or never. After all, what was worse: baring her soul to one stranger, or baring much more to the hotel’s security staff and probably half the city of Newcastle when they marched her away?

“The thing is –” she stopped and swallowed. This was going to be harder than she thought, virtually impossible if she couldn’t even see him.

Taking the risk of moving her right hand, she lowered the glasses a fraction on her nose and looked up at him.

“I was going to put the folder under the door.”

“Right.”

“But then the skirt split.”

“Split?”

“Up the back. Really split.”

He was beginning to understand. His lips were also beginning to twitch.

“You can’t – you know – hold it together?”

“I wish.” She took a deep breath that threatened to pop the buttons on the jacket, then the words tumbled out. “To be honest, I don’t have much on underneath and if I walk around I’ll probably be arrested for indecent exposure. Is your room nearby? I thought maybe I could borrow something to put around me.”

He rubbed a hand across his mouth as if considering.

“I know it’s hilarious,” Dimity said coldly, feeling her stress level rising to boiling point, “and I expect I’ll roar laughing about it myself later, but meanwhile –”

“Sure, sure. Sorry.” With a visible effort he got his face under control. “Let’s get you off this main drag, first. I’ll see what’s round the corner.”

Dimity didn’t like his sudden disappearance, but he was back in a few seconds.

“There’s a powder room along here. If you can kind of slither around the corner and along the wall, you’d be safer waiting there.”

She slithered while he strolled beside her, hands in pockets, carefully not watching.

“Someone’s working down the end of the hallway,” he warned out of the corner of his mouth as she manoeuvred along the wall. “Looks as if she’s putting laundry away but she’s got her back to us.”

After reversing thankfully into the comparative safety of the ladies’ room, Dimity left its door open a fraction to confer.

“The guest rooms are on the other side of the building,” he said. “I’d have to go through the foyer and I’m supposed to be meeting some people there –” he looked at his watch and whistled sharply “– two minutes ago. If they see me, they’ll ambush me for sure.”

Before she could answer, the lift bell chimed. He moved swiftly and glanced around the corner.

“Security,” he said over his shoulder. “Shut the door and keep your head down.”

He was gone before she could reply, once more leaving Dimity feeling decidedly abandoned.