by Anne Ashby
To cover her trembling ire she clutched the edge of the reception desk and continued to glare at the hapless receptionist.
“The rest of today is all yours, Chris.” Jase handed their driver a hotel key card and a wad of cash. “Have the van ready at eight in the morning.”
A grin split the young man’s face. “No worries, boss.” He left them and headed off for a feed.
“Come on.” A hand slipped around Debra’s elbow and she was escorted to the lift. Neither spoke in the lift or as they walked along the hallway. A delicious tingle quivered up and down Debra’s spine, while her head demanded she do something drastic to put him in his place if he’d been audacious enough to book just one room.
It wasn’t disappointment she felt when he paused. “This is your room.” He opened a door and ushered her in, moving to draw back the net curtains so the beauty of Lake Wakatipu lay before them.
Only just remembering her role, Debra hoped her glance around showed awe. “I don’t need a flash room like this. I could stay—”
“Don’t be silly, of course you’re staying here.” He fished into the bag he carried and drew out a bright pink garment. Debra’s eyes widened at his reddening cheeks. “We’re going shopping once we’ve cleaned up, but you needed something to wear.” Discomfort deepened the ruddy hue on his face.
Debra wanted to laugh. Self-confident, self-assured Jason McEwan was embarrassed. “I guessed your size, figuring a tracksuit would be okay even if it isn’t quite the right fit.”
Her amusement must have been twinkling in her eyes. He cleared his throat and dropping his gaze, slipped past her to pause at the open door. “I’m in the next room. I’ll knock in half an hour. Is that long enough?”
“That’s ample time,” The door swung shut even as Debra assured him.
The track suit wasn’t something she’d have bought, not in shocking pink anyway. But even if the fit wasn’t perfect, it would do until she could purchase something else.
Her bloody outer clothes got jammed into the small rubbish bin as the shower warmed up. Unravelling her hair from its plait, Debra cringed at the blobs of blood adorning it as well. Thank God the man was not in a critical condition. Splattered with a dead man’s blood would have been too creepy.
Under the pounding water Debra thrust aside the horrendous visions of the accident and forced herself to relax. Shampooing her hair for a third time she checked what she could see of the ends and hoped she’d wiped out all trace of blood.
Still she stood under the water’s warmth, her mind darting about in confusion. She mustn’t let Jase get any closer. His physical impact distracted her from what she needed to do. Turning off the shower she grabbed a towel.
She would not let this man infiltrate her psyche and distract her from a necessary course of action. She just needed to stay strong and not allow silly emotions to cloud the scene.
Water still dripped off her as she stomped into the bedroom. Glaring at the package lying on the bed she got the prompt she needed. The tracksuit had a designer label. He hadn’t bought cheap.
Her lips tightened. Whose money was he spending? He could have got something for a quarter of the price and it would have been adequate. Had this—she flicked the tracksuit out of its plastic wrapping with a disdainful glower—been paid for with his corporate credit card? Their hotel rooms definitely had. She’d recognised the card he handed over.
Concentrating on Jase’s likely misuse of the company’s expense account Debra wasn’t ready when a knock sounded. Not only had her mood deteriorated into an angry sulk while attempting to stretch the too-tight material across her bottom, her hair was a mess.
Despite the extra shampoo and conditioner it had assumed a mind of its own and refused to be constrained back into a French plait. Instead curls fluffed out around her face in complete disarray.
She stormed over and flung the door open only to find the hallway empty. Another tap alerted her to the door beside the television. Her breath caught in her throat. We have adjoining rooms.
The mirror beside the door showed exactly what she’d dreaded. Skin tight pants and her I’ve-just-got-out-of-bed-after-a-wild-night-of-sex hair made her look like someone begging for attention. Attention she didn’t want or need, she told herself.
Uncertain what her expression might reveal when her heart raced like a bullet train, Debra sucked in a deep breath and eased open the door.
Jase had abandoned his jacket in favour of a white polo shirt which gripped and displayed the muscles of his chest and upper arms too well.
Despite her determined intention to ignore any electricity flashing between them, moisture sucked from her mouth. Her tongue caught on the dry skin of her upper lip and drew his gaze. Her body refused to obey the order to withdraw. She could do nothing but stare as he took a step closer—and closer, until she could feel a hint of his breath against her face.
“You look incredible,” he breathed. “I wish you didn’t work for me.” His hand cupped her cheek and he leant down to taste the lips open and waiting for his touch.
Desire sparking through her Debra shivered as her body craved more, much more than he appeared willing to share right then. “One day soon, I’m going to have to fire you.”
Indignation reared her head back.
He smiled a secret little smile. His lips brushed against hers again and he murmured an explanation. “I can’t make love to someone on my staff. It’s unethical.”
His gaze followed his fingers as they caressed the mounds under pink top, stopping for a moment at each peak and giving it enough of a squeeze to quiver Debra’s legs and intensify the sensation at the base of her stomach.
“I want you more than you can imagine, but sadly”—he sighed dramatically and sent her a poignant little smile as he stepped back—“that’s not going to happen. Not yet, anyway.”
Had Jase meant these words as reassurance? They were anything but. To express his desire so blatantly, but then be able to switch it off as if it meant nothing...
Contrary to his composure, she was left tongue-tied and jittery as she struggled to hide the effect his words had upon her body. It clamoured for more of his touch, much more. It shivered and wobbled and raced, all at the same time.
Her mouth dry, Debra stumbled into the bathroom on a pretext of fixing her hair. Dragging it back from her face into a haphazard ponytail she jammed it through a hair tie, not caring what it looked like. The wobble in her fingers couldn’t manage anything more stylish.
“Let’s find a bite to eat and then we’ll replace your damaged clothes, and get anything else you need for your unexpected stay.”
His smile was so devastating she almost melted to a puddle at his feet. Grabbing hold of her sanity Debra instead suggested, “I can easily find something.”
Politeness forced her into the corridor as he stood by the room’s open door. “I’m sure you need time to get yourself kitted out.”
He slipped his hand under her elbow. “This trip is work-related. Through no-one’s fault you need new clothes. We will pay for them. No argument,” he added when she tried to do exactly that. “Come on, I’m hungry. How about you?”
The gnawing at the pit of her stomach had little to do with food, but Debra nodded her head anyway. Time in a café or restaurant might help her get her head straightened. At the very least, the intensity of his touch on her arm would end.
Their lunch did allow her to return to sane judgment. It also allowed her time to rationalise the need for better clothing. Not only was the pink tracksuit hideously tight—Jase’s gaze had fallen to her breasts more than once during their light meal—but he also reminded her she’d be joining him and the Japanese businessmen for dinner.
When Jase steered her into a chic boutique after lunch, Debra grasped a covert test for his honesty. Would he balk if she chose the most expensive items? Would he discourage their purchase or allow her to frivolously spend the company’s money?
Knowing the value of her soiled
clothing, anything in this shop—she flicked through the first rack—would be far in excess of their cost. Debra bit her lip, so afraid Jase might make the wrong decision.
If he allows the company to pay for these excessive purchases, that will indicate his lack of integrity, she argued. But not necessarily an indication of his involvement in the debacle at the hotel, though, she countered as she worried her lip some more.
Jase unknowingly helped. “We need at least two complete outfits,” he told the assistant. “One for day, one for evening. Shoes, stockings, underwear, the works.” Keeping her mind on her need to oust his dishonesty—if he was in fact dishonest—his insistence at selecting various items, without even a glimpse at the price ticket, played right into her hands.
She even risked voicing her concern as the pile continued to grow, “These are far too expensive.”
“Don’t worry about the cost,” was his response as he held an elegant cocktail dress in front of her. His head tilted to one side as he obviously envisioned her wearing it. He turned to the hovering assistant and added it to the pile of clothes in her arms. “Try those on. I’ll keep looking.”
As she stomped toward the changing room at the back of the shop he called from across the clothing racks. “I want to see everything,” he demanded. “Come out as you try each thing on.”
Uncertain whether her blush was annoyance at his cheek or something much more basic, Debra chose to ignore the speculative look on the assistant’s face as she hung up all the beautiful clothes he’d selected.
Pleased to be out of the tight tracksuit Debra stood for a moment in front of the mirror. She thanked God the calm image staring back revealed none of the uncertainties churning inside her.
With a shaky breath she turned her back on the slim figure in utilitarian underwear and slipped on the first of the day outfits. Determined not to parade any of the clothes, she threw them on and off, dropping many to the floor while setting some aside for further consideration.
She guessed he wouldn’t wait too long before expecting her to begin the parade. Nowhere near making a final decision, she heard Jase’s voice whisper through the curtain. “Are you coming out, or do I come in?”
Jase leant against the wall when she jerked back the curtain and stalked out. His shining eyes challenged, but the presence of the hovering saleslady prevented the angry spiel perched on the tip of her tongue from escaping.
Ignoring him she scooped up the discarded clothes and dumped the rumpled bundle into the woman’s arms.
“Do you mind?” Debra hissed as the woman turned away. “It’s bad enough having to buy new clothes. I’m not parading around in front of you.”
“Don’t be a spoilsport,” Jase teased, his voice loud enough to carry in the small shop. “That dress looks lovely, by the way.” His head dropped to one side. “A little on the demure side, but lovely.”
Seething, Debra ripped the curtain closed behind her and leant her head against the cold mirror. Demure? She didn’t want Jase to see her as demure. God help her, she wanted him weak at the knees. But she’d discarded the sexiest dress with its low-cut front and lack of any back. She could hardly call the saleslady to return it.
With tightened lips she pulled on a business suit and flung back the curtain. Jase’s reaction sent her straight back into the cubicle to try another.
This is supposed to be revealing Jase’s character, she thought as she kept replacing outfits and irritably presenting herself for his inspection. Instead she became more aware of the man’s affect on her. Her heart swelled at his approval, dipped at his shaking head, and once took off like a Shinkansen train as smouldering fire leapt into his eyes.
That smouldering almost exploded as his gaze lifted from some flimsy teddies he’d picked out.
“No way,” she snapped as he held them out, her arms folded across her chest.
“You need something to sleep in.”
How he kept a straight face while his eyes danced so lasciviously, she’d never know, but she daringly replied before common sense took hold. “No, I don’t.” She arched an eyebrow and spun back into the cubicle.
Sinking onto the chair before her cotton-wool legs crumpled beneath her, Debra buried her burning face in trembling hands. Blood pounded at her temples, gentle massage did nothing to ease the pressure.
Embarrassment turned to annoyance. His infuriating teasing had caused her to act most uncharacteristically. Telling any man, let alone a hunk like Jase, that she slept naked was sheer foolhardiness. What if he checked out her brazen lie?
What if he did? Debra struggled to swallow. Her head clouded and rolled like an ocean wave crashing against jagged rocks. Her teeth clamped shut on the moan rising from her very soul. She had to get out of here—had to get away from him. Back in Wellington she could fight this ridiculous weakness.
With shortened breaths she threw on a lovely suit they’d both liked. Uncaring, she grabbed one of the cocktail dresses—the one he’d called demure—and stumbled out of the dressing room. “These will do just fine,” she told the saleslady, depositing the dress and the suit jacket on the counter.
“What about underwear?” Jase flicked through a rack of trendy lingerie—sexy items nothing like those gracing her top drawer.
“And these,” Debra grabbed a pair of satin panties from a bargain basket next to the counter. They were demure as well.
Concern over the method of payment had vanished from Debra’s mind while exhibiting herself in front of Jase, until she saw the card Jase hand over was not the corporate credit card. Damn. Even that hadn’t turned out as she expected.
Breath stuck in her throat, before a distasteful flavour filled her mouth. She’d anticipated Jase using their card to skim extra from the company. But now, to see him hand over another card, suggested his honesty remained intact, causing Debra’s stomach to retch. She couldn’t allow him to buy her clothing. That was too personal.
“I’ll pay you back,” she muttered as he helped her on with the blue suit jacket and ushered her out of the shop.
“There’s no need to worry about that.” Swinging her bags a little, he strolled along beside her. “I assure you, I’ll check with Ms. Murphy regarding the loss of your clothing. If these aren’t adequate compensation, you’ll get the balance in your next pay cheque.”
Not adequate? Debra replaced her fallen jaw. She figured all this shopping cost more than her cousin likely paid for clothing for a whole year.
Jase’s good humour grated on Debra’s shaky equilibrium. She needed space. And time to realign her thinking and reassert some control over her wobbly emotions.
She glanced at her watch. There were still three or four hours before dinner. Did Jase expect her to spend that time with him? His cheery manner suggested exactly that.
She couldn’t. She daren’t. He’d gotten too close. His touch was more than she could handle right now. Somehow she had to protect herself and rebuild the crumbling wall.
No matter how she might feel, Jase could never be attracted to the real her. Debbie the waitress might interest him, but he’d run a mile from Debra Laurie. Even if by some miracle he could want her, he’d soon learn of her inability to satisfy any man.
Debra blinked and drew in a sharp breath. It was safer to avoid any chance of heartache before she’d fallen too hard. “I have a bit of a headache.” She rubbed her forehead to give credence to her fib.
She gave him a shaky smile, careful to avoid his gaze. “I guess hanging upside down for hours can do that to a person. I think I’ll go to my room and rest.” She refused to acknowledge the disappointment covering his face.
“Should we get some pain-killers for you?” His solicitous concern added to her discomfort for lying.
“No, no. I’m sure I’ll be fine.” She reached for the shopping bags as they entered the hotel. “What time did you want to meet for dinner?”
In the foyer they arranged a meeting time and Debra hurried to the lift. His eyes bored into her back but s
he managed to resist one last look as she said farewell to what might have been.
Chapter Nine
The quiet tap on the door would never have disturbed her if she’d been asleep. Ha! Fat chance of sleep invading her psyche right now. Debra’s mind had been revolving like a stuck automatic door ever since she’d left the lobby. If the carpet had been anything but the top quality it was, she was sure a worn tread mark would have already begun to show where she’d been pacing.
She held herself dead still, even capturing her breath deep in her chest as the tap-tap sounded again. Go away, go away, her brain screamed. There were still a couple of hours before she needed to think about facing him again—a couple more hours during which she must regain some control over her wayward emotions.
As dull footsteps left her door, she slumped onto the bed. Berating herself for her weakness even as she acknowledged the impact Jase McEwan had on her, she searched for reasons to distrust the man. Finding those reasons got harder by the hour.
A call to her mother to advise her of their change of plans, and reassure a shocked Karin of her wellbeing, Debra queried the situation at Riversleigh.
Despite few details of the hotel audit being available as yet, her mother’s excited confirmation something screwy was afoot with the records had momentarily given Debra some steel for her backbone. Although Karin’s substantiation Jase was still not implicated in any way melted that steel as quickly as it had taken form.
“Are you sure?” Debra snapped. The hold on her mobile tightening until her nails nearly dug trenches into the cold metal.
“I talked to that nice red-headed boy less than an hour ago.”
Debra’s teeth tested the strength of their enamel. Remembering names wasn’t her strongest suite either, but Karin’s description of the man responsible for ousting whatever was happening at Riversleigh didn’t fortify her confidence in his ability. “What did he tell you? Word for word, Mother.”
With an impatient sigh Karin began a monologue which did sound dry enough to have come straight from an accountant’s mouth.
