Temporary Intrigue (21 page)

Malcolm came up behind her. She winced at the blast of alcoholic breath.

“Did your brother tell you about his job?” He suddenly put one hand on the railing next to her and the other on the wall beside her, effectively pinning her.

To turn around and face him would bring her virtually into his arms. Dimity contemplated putting her high heels to work.

“Yes.” She flexed her right leg. One inch closer and he’d be limping home tonight.

Malcolm talked quickly as if sensing her intention. “It’s a good opportunity for him. I’ll make sure he gets plenty of work if you keep quiet about seeing me with that young lady at the hotel. If you don’t, he’ll be whistling for a job. And so will you.”

“Are you
threatening
me?” Dimity swung around and pushed him in the chest with both hands. “Back off!” she snapped furiously.

Malcolm took a step backwards but his eyes flashed nastily.

“I’m telling you that if you say anything, I’ll know where it came from. Then your brother won’t have a job.”

There was more than a hint of menace in his voice.

Dimity shook her head in disbelief.

“I couldn’t care less about your sleazy private life! But don’t tell me what to do. I’d much prefer Shane didn’t work for you anyway.”

Malcolm’s face hardened.

“Is that right? Well, remember I know where you live.”

“You’re pathetic!” Dimity almost laughed before his words registered. “And just how do you know that?” she demanded.

Malcolm leered.

“Fancied you. Looked up your address in our personnel database.”

The thought of Malcolm stalking her was too gross to contemplate. Dimity pushed past him.

“Remember what I said.” He caught her arm. “I’ve seen you with a few bruises. You might find yourself with a few more.”

Dimity wrenched her arm free one second before Josh came onto the balcony.

“Anything wrong?” He glanced at her face, then his expression changed. If Malcolm had looked threatening, Josh’s manner was now positively menacing. He took a step forward. Malcolm moved backwards, ending up against the balcony railing.

Revelling in the scene, Dimity decided reluctantly that non-aggression was the way to go. It wouldn’t help anyone if Malcolm plunged to his death on the footpath below.

“We were on our way in. it’s getting stormy. How’s the party going?”

“Starting to break up.” Josh stood between her and Malcolm, still looking suspicious, and was close behind her as she went back into the living room.

“You’re not in a hurry, are you?” he asked. “Give me a few minutes to say goodbye to the others. I feel I’ve hardly seen you tonight.”

The others.
Dimity liked that.

Malcolm brushed past them.

“Think I’ll go and get some fresh air,” he said.

Harold Woodman and his wife came over to Josh and Dimity.

“Thanks for a wonderful evening.” Harold shook hands with Josh. “Great food, too. If your caterers ever decide to move to Canada and want work there, refer them to me.” He placed a couple of business cards on a nearby table.

While Josh saw the Woodmans out, Dimity collected some empty plates and carried them to the kitchen.

“Relax.” Josh was suddenly with her again. “What would you like to drink?”

“Tonic water, thanks. I’m driving.”

He opened the fridge.

“Harold was right. The food was excellent.”

“I suppose I should confess.” She grinned at his puzzled expression. “There was a mix-up with the caterer. Shane threw it all together this afternoon.”

He whistled softly.

“The boy has talent.” He was about to say something else when his phone rang.

“Sorry, I’d better get this,” he said, glancing at it. “It’s my parents’ number.”

While he spoke on the phone, Dimity wandered out onto the balcony again. The lightning flashes were more frequent.

Josh joined her, smiling.

“It was my father. One of his regular check-up calls. My sisters call him ‘father hen’.”

Dimity felt a pang of envy.

“Does he still work?”

Josh rested his arms on the balcony rail.

“He and my mother were high school teachers, but now they’re very active retirees. What about your dad?”

“He died of cancer soon after I finished high school.” Dimity kept her eyes on the streetlights below.
She heard Josh’s quick intake of breath.

“But you said you had no relatives. How on earth did you manage financially? Not to mention all the other ways.”

Dimity shrugged.

“We got by. I wanted to be an art teacher, but I did a secretarial course first with the idea of getting temping work. That supported us so Shane could finish school and get his chef qualifications and I could do the art teaching degree part-time.”

She gave him a sideways grin.

“I found teaching suited me better than office work.”

“I’d never have believed it.”

“Does that mean I’ve lost your nomination for the PA of the Year award?”

“Hang in there for another week and we’ll see.”

His arm was now touching hers, sending a series of small, delicious tremors shooting through her. Involuntarily she pressed her own arm slightly against his warmth.

“We really managed quite well. And I took out an insurance policy so Shane would be all right if anything happened to me.”

“A good idea if you’re accident prone,” Josh murmured. He seemed to be even closer. With one hand he gently touched the faded bruise on the side of her face.

“Then I got the job at the art gallery. I loved that, because it combined teaching and art. I probably shouldn’t have left it, but it seemed the right thing to do at the time.”

Somehow while she talked his arm had found its way around her, his fingers stroking lightly across her bare shoulder.

She tried not to shiver, but failed. His hand closed warmly around her and turned her slowly against him. His cheek touched her hair. Her breathlessness had returned big time.

A crack of thunder made her jump. His arm tightened.

“Do storms worry you?” She felt his lips brush her temple.

“A little.” Something seemed to be closing up in her throat. “But Shane used to be absolutely terrified of them, and I couldn’t show him I was frightened too.”

His free hand kneaded slowly through her hair, somehow setting off a series of tingles along her spine. His lips moved across her forehead, over her cheekbone.

“You’re safe here.” His voice was so low she could hardly hear it. A vivid flash of lightning went almost unnoticed as his lips touched hers. He moved his head back far enough to look down at her, as if to gauge her reaction, then drew her closer to him and kissed her again, long and lingeringly.

At first Dimity was aware only of the strength of his arms around her and the warmth of his mouth on hers. Then as his kiss deepened a surge of longing powered through her and she found herself responding with an intensity that matched his. Her arms closed around him. She felt his breath quicken as her lips parted slightly.

He needed no second invitation. His tongue tip traced delicately along her lower lip while his hands closed around her waist before sliding upwards in a slow, sensual exploration. Dimity moaned softly against his mouth. Her body seemed to have taken on a life of its own, moving against him, responding to his caresses, revelling in the increasing urgency of his hands and lips.

She no longer heard the thunder, was not aware of the flashes of lightning around them. Somewhere, deep within her, an aching longing was being fulfilled.

And yet it wasn’t enough. The need was too strong to be satisfied by a few kisses.

Trembling, she raised her hands to either side of his face. Their eyes met and she could read the same need in his eyes.

He drew her towards the glass doors that led into the warmth of the apartment. At the same time they heard the doorbell ring.

“Hell.” Josh turned. “Who’s that?”

He bent and kissed her gently, stroking her hair, smoothing her dress, all in one fluid movement.

“To be continued,” he whispered. He held her close, kissed the top of her head, then led her into the apartment.

The visitor was Malcolm, who seemed to have had several more drinks while he was out. He had also found Amanda waiting for a taxi and brought her back with him. She looked distinctly the worse for wear.

“Bought her a couple of drinks,” explained Malcolm, heading for the gin while Amanda collapsed into a chair. “Thought we’d have a farewell one here before I take her home. One for the road?” He waved a bottle at Dimity.

“Just water,” she told him, still shaking slightly.

“I never did get you that drink, did I? Sorry.” Josh glanced at Amanda and lowered his voice. “She was fine when she left here. God knows what he’s given her.” He eyed Malcolm with distaste. “He’s not fit to drive. I’ll call a taxi.”

While he was making the call, Malcolm lurched across the room and handed Dimity a glass. Thirsty from the party food, she drained it quickly. Immediately she almost gagged. Coughing and spluttering, she was aware of similar noises of disgust from Malcolm.

“That was straight water!” He stared at his glass then looked at Dimity. “You must have got the one with the gin in it.”

The whole bottle, by the taste of it,
she thought, still shuddering. She noticed Amanda sip from the glass Malcolm had given her and then put it down with a similar shudder.

“Are you all right?” Josh came over and put an arm around Dimity, scowling in Malcolm’s direction. “His taxi’s on the way. I’ll get one for Amanda too. It wouldn’t be safe to let her go with him.”

Suddenly tired – was the gin hitting her already? – Dimity leaned gratefully against him.

“I’d better go home too,” she said. “I think I’ve swallowed half a bottle of gin.” She explained about the mix-up with the glasses and watched his mouth tighten.

“Amanda lives in town,” she added. “I can drop her off on the way.”

“You’re not driving if you’ve had that much gin,” he told her. “I’ll take you home in your car and get a taxi back. Amanda can come with us.”

He refused to listen to arguments. Malcolm objected vehemently to the plan, but had little choice. Josh had found his car keys near the gin bottle and pocketed them.

“Give me a call tomorrow and I’ll get them to you,” he said firmly. “I don’t want to be liable if he kills himself leaving a company function,” he added in a mutter to Dimity as he returned to her, carrying her coat.

“Very caring.” Her giggle ended in a snort. Josh shook his head, half amused, half exasperated.

“The sooner everyone’s home in bed the better, I think.” He helped her on with the coat.

“Shane might be able to use this, by the way,” he added, handing her one of Harold Woodman’s cards. “If he decides to go overseas some time, there’s no harm having a contact.”