Taken Identity
Page 15
He snarled at Adrian, who had begun to rise, but who, having taken one look at the fury on Gray’s face, must have decided against carrying on. Jules took Gray’s arm, but he shrugged her off.
“Just because you have a bent father who doesn’t know right from wrong, you thought it was okay to endanger someone totally innocent? What if these mythical they got hold of Jules’ name and found her instead of you, like I did? Oh, I forgot, I was pointed in this direction. Would you have done that for them, as well? Would you?” He was shaking.
“Gray, enough.” Jules put her finger over his lips and kissed his cheek. “Let her finish. What is your proper name, anyway?”
“Elizabeth Gooding.”
Gray’s head jerked up.
Jules shuddered. That explained it.
“As in the Field Street conspiracy? That Gooding? No wonder you were shit-scared,” Jules said frankly. “But why are you here now?”
“Dad was exonerated today, and everything came out in court. There’s no hold over him now. And, well, Adrian and I decided you both needed an explanation and an apology. Gray, I’ll be honest. I married you for that extra level of security, and left when I thought it was okay to go. Unforgivable, but I truly did what I thought was best for me. And it was me I was thinking about. Me and Dad. Sorry.”
“So, where does Aw—er, Adrian come into all this?” By now, Jules had lost her anger and was fascinated by the story.
“I met Lizzie a few months before she morphed into you,” Adrian said, his voice hesitant. “Fell like a ton of bricks. Then she disappeared off the face of the earth. Well, I know why now. Then, at the wedding, I was sure you were pulling a fast one, Jules, and boy, was I mad. You’re similar enough for any differences to be put down to the length of time since I’d last seen you—her. About a year ago, I met her again by total chance, in Glasgow of all places. God knows how no one ever thought she was you there.”
“Different hair.” Jules spoke absently. “So, why all these scaring tactics, when you obviously pushed Sean and Gray in my direction?”
“We were waiting for Lizzie to get the all clear. At one point, we were sure we had it, and Lizzie asked Gray for a divorce. Then the threat was real again, so everything was put on hold. We thought if they searched and found you, they would think they had been wrong all along. When you carried on looking, well, we needed to slow you down.”
“You fucker. With one breath you say how similar they are and in the next you say Jules wouldn’t be mistaken for Lizzie. Get your bloody lies straight or better still, don’t bloody tell any,” Gray said in a furious voice. “You make me wish I’d got my punch in.”
“Enough, Gray. He’ll suffer. Don’t you worry. I learned how to hex people ages ago and need some practice.”
Adrian opened his eyes wide. “Oh, er…look…”
“No, you look. You nearly stopped me dead, literally, when I got that bloody parcel. Not funny.”
Adrian had the grace to look abashed. “I really am sorry. I know you don’t like sp—er…them but didn’t realize it was a full-blown phobia.”
“Oh, well.” Jules shifted uncomfortably. All this angst was so wearing she couldn’t keep it up. “What happens now? Are Gray and Julia, um, Lizzie, really married?”
“That’ll need sorting out,” Sean said. “I’ll get on to it tomorrow. I presume you both want it over and done with?”
Two ‘what, are you kidding’, expressions made him nod.
“Right. That’s that, then,” he said.
“Not quite.” Gray and Jules spoke together.
“You first,” she said.
“What about my jewelry?”
Lizzie looked bewildered. “I told you, Gray. I don’t have it. You only ever showed it to me that once then sent it back to the bank.”
“You had access to the bank safe.” His voice was quiet, menacing. It made the hairs on Jules’ arms stand on end.
“I never took it out. I don’t have it.”
If Lizzie was lying, Jules thought she was the next Grand Dame of the theater.
By the skeptical look on his face, Gray was not so forgiving—or so sure. “Well, someone does. And it sure as hell isn’t me.”
Epilogue
Christmas Eve
Jules sat on the sofa, looking out of the window, watching the snowfall. Talk about clichés. The fire was crackling, the lights on the tree twinkling, and an assortment of presents sat beneath its boughs. Their bright packaging added to the festive feel of the room. She was looking forward to seeing Gray’s reaction when he opened the box containing the mask she had worn in Italy all those months ago. Now, as a nicely pregnant woman sitting in her home, waiting for her man, she felt it was time to tell him just who he’d been making love to in the moonlight.
The front door slammed. She heard Gray chat to the puppy as he obviously took off his coat.
“Don’t you be asking to go out there again, Bono. It’s ball-freezing weather. Not if you want that present Catriona and Dougie sent you. Looks like a chewy bone to me.”
He walked into the lounge and moved across the floor to kiss Jules. “You look cozy. How’s junior behaving?”
She laughed. “You’ve only been gone for an hour or so. Junior’s fine.”
“Ah, but what an hour.” He looked at her but didn’t elaborate.
“Well? You cannot keep a pregnant lady in suspense. It’s bad for her. She might not be able to, um, rub your back later—or your front.”
“Oh, well, in that case.” He sat down promptly, moved the puppy who had snuck into the room unnoticed, and ensconced himself on the sofa next to Jules.
“Mmm.” He nuzzled her neck. “I love you, nice pregnant lady.”
“I love you too. But I won’t like you very much if you don’t tell me what you have found. Or give you your present—either of them.”
Gray leered.
“Okay, okay, slave driver. You remind me of a friend of mine at uni. Doris always cracked the whip. Right.” With a look at her impatient face, he began. “Well, as of today, the jewelry is back in the bank. The right bank. I got a very garbled phone call from Mum on my way into town. She said when she got back to Blighty—her words, not mine—she’d opened her safety deposit box in one bank to find the family jewelry she thought she’d put back into another. I’d never mentioned it missing to her, because I didn’t want to upset her. I didn’t even know she had it out. So—” He laughed. “Bless her, I didn’t dare tell her the trouble she’d caused. She’d have been mortified. She’s already worried because she missed the wedding. I told her a hurricane wasn’t her fault, but I’m still not sure she believed me.”
“And? Go on, spit out the rest. You’re so full of news you look like tomorrow’s turkey.”
He laughed. “How well you know me. Well, also as of today, I am no longer a married man. But I’m hoping, maybe an engaged one?”
He took a box from his pocket and went down on one knee in front of her.
“Julia Frances Frayne, luckily not known as Larkspur, Damask, or Ophelia, will you please do me the honor of—damn and blast, Bono—this is serious stuff. Stop trying to lick my face.”
He collapsed on the floor, the puppy jumping all over him and barking wildly.
Jules roared with laughter, tears streaming down her face as she slid onto the floor next to him and grabbed the squirming puppy.
“Bono. Stop.” She gurgled. “I’m getting my first and only proposal. Let me hear all of it so I can say yes.”
Gray grabbed the puppy and held him firmly. “Well?”
“Well, what? Oh, will I do you the honor of…?” She stopped and raised an eyebrow.
“Witch. Being my wife.”
“Oh, that? Oh, Gray.” She kissed him long and in depth. “Of course I will.”
Also available from Totally Bound Publishing:
Hong Kong Heat
Raven McAllan
Excerpt
Chapter One
And hey, H
ong Kong is as great as I remember. I can’t wait to get out and explore. This hotel lives up to everything it boasts about. My suite is amazing and the bed is big enough for an orgy.
Debra considered the last sentence then deleted it. It might be a bit too much for her children to read.
Everyone is so helpful and friendly. And wow, you should have seen the hot-bod guy in the foyer. Pity he’d disappeared once I’d checked in. (Only kidding, I don’t cradle snatch, but my eyes are still 20/20.) Ah well, lots to do and see. Speak soon, love mum x
Debra checked that she’d copied the email to both of her adult children and pressed send. No doubt if Lena were there she would roll her eyes and mutter things about safe sex and growing old gracefully, then giggle and high five her mum. Kevan would worry and ask if she had a rape alarm, before issuing dire warnings about insurances and idiot old people who wandered all over the world. Such different attitudes.
Debra wasn’t old old—merely past the mid-life crisis age. Not that her children agreed with that description. To them it was a mid-life crisis that had gone on a bit too long.
Tough.
Deb knew why she’d resolved to do her gap year at the ripe old age of forty-four. Her beloved husband Don had died five years earlier and she’d wallowed. Then floundered.
Until she’d read an article about gap year oldies and understood immediately that she needed to be one.
So here she was in Hong Kong, in an exclusive Channing Hotel and wondering just who the man she’d spotted was.
Too young for me is what he was. Ah well. Debra checked that she’d gotten everything she might need in her bag, picked up her room key and sunglasses and plotted her route in her mind.
Hong Kong.
Somewhere she hadn’t been for years and one of her favorite cities in the world. It had been a conscious choice to leave it until she was on her way home. A final glorious ending to a year of wandering the world, before she headed back to Scotland. She had almost two weeks to relearn her way around and decide where on the islands was her favorite spot, and she wasn’t going to waste a second.
First, she was going to check out the rooftop terrace and swimming pool. It had been one of the things that had influenced her choice of hotels. That and the reputation of Channing Hotels.
The lift was speedy and within seconds it seemed that she was smiling at the pool attendant and wandering around a well-tended garden in the sky.
Debra walked amongst shrubs and flowers and admired the views. In one direction was the park she wanted to visit. Its trees looked like toys made out of plasticine and the people walking through it like ants. In the other she could see the harbor with one of the famous green Star Ferries crossing to TST, a junk picking up litter and a cruise liner in dock. She took in a deep breath. She loved it.
Considering that Hong Kong was a skyscraper paradise, this area was remarkably empty of multistoried buildings. The hotel was the tallest around even though it merely had twenty or so floors. That meant that the gardens, pool and a well thought out walking track were not overlooked. It was peaceful and private and, at that moment, unused. Debra made a note to use it all as soon as she could.
But not now. Now the streets and park beckoned. She made her way downstairs.
The foyer was empty except for two doormen, one who held the door open, and the other who bowed.
“Taxi, ma’am?”
Debra shook her head. “No thanks. I’m off for a wander around the park.”
The doorman smiled. “Enjoy your walk, ma’am. Best time of day for it, I reckon.”
“I think so. Thank you.” The exchange reminded her how pleasant most people were. She stood at the door and debated which way to go. It was still warm, very warm, although luckily without the humidity that would hit the city in a few weeks’ time.
The streets were busy. Businessmen and women, teens in school uniforms, toddlers and their carers. Some rushed, others sauntered or stood chatting.
It was time for the commuting nightmare that occurred every weekday at that time. People of all shapes and sizes were about. Nowhere could she see one specific tall-haired man in a sharp suit and crisp white shirt. Debra was surprised at the stab of annoyance and disappointment that hit her. After all, she’d merely glimpsed the guy as she’d followed the concierge and her luggage to reception. Why would he be in this crowded street?
But that glimpse made me want more. Grief, I’m getting old if one tiny sighting makes me go weak at the knees. Snap out of it.
Pleased with her self-lecture, Debra put on her sunglasses, thankful that she’d slathered herself in sun cream before she’d left her suite, and headed for Victoria Park. The last time she’d been there you couldn’t see the grass for the hundreds of au pairs, Amahs, Ayis and immigrant workers who spent their day off sitting in the park and chatting. The noise level would have won out over any pop concert. Today it was quieter, with a few children playing ball, a group of elderly ladies talking as they enjoyed the late afternoon sunshine and several people using the jogging track that circled part of the park.
She found an area of grass in the sunshine and settled down on it to read about her latest sex on legs hero and how he managed to convince his lady that he wanted her. Within minutes, Debra was engrossed. As a child she’d often been chastised for being oblivious to everything other than her book when she was reading.
Today was no exception. It wasn’t until the sun moved behind the trees and she was sitting in the shade that Debra realized how much time had passed.
The occupants of the park had changed. To one side, a tai chi lesson was in process and the jogging track was much busier. Debra checked her watch and groaned. She’d been oblivious for well over an hour and undoubtedly ought to move and think about getting ready for dinner.
Getting up wasn’t as easy as she’d hoped. Sitting in one position for so long had given her pins and needles and she winced at the pain.
I don’t mind nice stings and tingles, well I didn’t, but hey, it’s been so long, who knows? But this is bloody agony. She rubbed her legs and wriggled her toes to get the circulation back to normal.
Debra collected her belongings and made her way across the grass toward the entrance to the park. To get there she had to cross the jogging track and dodge the joggers. Their numbers had increased considerably now and Debra waited to let a steady stream of people of all shapes and sizes go by. One guy, tall, fit and blond hair, caught her eye and her heart did a weird double pitter pat.
It was the guy from the hotel. No snazzy suit, but black running shorts and a black sleeveless vest that shouted serious runner to her. As he approached along the track, she couldn’t help but admire—and drool at—the way he moved. His short hair had curled in the heat and the sheen of sweat over his body highlighted the muscles in his arms and the strength of his legs. She’d bet he had a washboard stomach and a cute ass.
Dammit, cease and desist drooling, woman, you’ll embarrass yourself. Nevertheless, she took a step back to wait for him to pass.
There was a grunt of pain from behind her. Deb turned to see an elderly lady, with perfectly coiffed white hair and wearing an elegant linen suit, rub her ankle.
“Oh, heavens, I’m so sorry, I wasn’t watching what I was doing. Have I hurt you badly?” Debra was appalled at her clumsiness. First day there and injuring the natives wasn’t a good start.
The lady laughed. “Don’t worry, no lasting damage and I wasn’t paying attention either. I was waiting for Gorgeous George to go by.” She inclined her head toward the guy who was a few yards away.
“George?”
The lady rolled her eyes. “No idea if that’s his name, but he sure is gorgeous. Sexy Steve, Hot Bod Harry, take your pick. I see him most evenings and it makes my day.” She waved at the man who grinned and waved back, before he slowed to almost a halt.
“Hi, gorgeous, you ready to run away with me yet?”
The lady cackled. “I’m too much of a woman for you, honey.�
�
“Too true, my loss.” He looked straight at Debra and winked. “How about it?”
Deb bit back a snigger. “Depends what ‘it’ you mean.” She blushed. Was she actually bandying innuendo with a stranger? A much younger than her stranger. Her kids would be horrified. Tough, it’s only a ships that pass in the night thing.
He jogged in a circle. “Up to you, honey.” He waved, increased his speed and moved away.
The older lady sighed. “See what I mean? Fit as hell. I think Gorgeous George has the hots for you. The Jie Jies will be disappointed.”
“The what?” Debra hadn’t heard that expression before.
“Jie Jies, sisters, people who look after the family. Like Ayis, or Amahs. It’s a very Hong Kong expression. My Jie Jie was a darling. Ah well, back to my Angus and a cuddle. He might not be as slim as Georgie boy, but he won’t wear me out. Mind you our Mr. Mysterious does make me quiver and even wonder if I could take up jogging at my advanced age.”
Debra knew just what she meant. Trust her to fancy a fitness freak. Debra was the first to admit that her idea of fitness was to abstain from eating three extra chocolate biscuits and run up the stairs rather than walk.
She sighed. Ah well, she knew what the lady meant about having her day made. There was no two ways about it, the guy was sex on legs and the sort of man to make you roll over and shout ‘play your cards right and you can have me’.
With a mental shrug at her fanciful notions, she took her life into her hands to cross the road and dodge pedestrians, cars and trams, and walk back to the hotel. As if someone like that would pay more than passing attention to a middle-aged overweight lady who could give him several years. Let alone listen to her telling him to play his cards right.
Oh well, I can dream. But dreaming led to a damp crotch and a need for relief. Debra made her way into her suite, dragged her clothes off and indulged in a well needed self-induced orgasm that left her hot, sweaty and pleased that she was gifted with a great imagination. Her mystery man had featured heavily, as she used her hands to tease her clit and fall over the edge.