by Janet Woods
Impossibly, her eyes became even larger, and even though they were undecided she managed a disbelieving snort. ‘Leon Price has a moustache.’
He grinned slightly, recalling the facial hair he’d grown in his twenties, in an effort to appear mature. So she went back that far. ‘I can’t recall ever setting eyes on you before, but the name’s slightly familiar. Perhaps you’d like to see my credentials.’
‘I’ve seen enough of your credentials to last me a lifetime,’ she snapped back, then incredibly, she blushed.
There was something about her that made Leon grin. Perhaps it was the pillow clutched against her. She was a smooth fluid curve of shoulders, hips, thighs and calves around a small oblong of white - almost like a modernist sculpture.
‘I take it we’ve met before, Darcie Channing.’
When she worried at her bottom lip and didn’t answer, he prompted, ‘Perhaps we had a one-night stand in the past and you enjoyed it so much you’ve come back for seconds?’
Darcie felt like dying of embarrassment as she met a pair of amused gray eyes, and she clutched the pillow tighter to her body. ‘You’ve got to be joking.’
He raised one dark eyebrow. ‘No, I’m not joking. You look just the type of woman I’d go for.’
‘Make one move towards me and I’ll scream blue murder.’
‘Likewise.’ Her mouth twitched up at the corner as she tried not to laugh at his answer. Being in bed with him was no laughing matter to her. Personally, he was beginning to enjoy the situation.
There was something appealing about the woman despite her profession, Leon was thinking, so what was she up to? ‘Am I to take it someone is about to burst through the door with a camera? If you’ve got blackmail on your mind, forget it.’
‘The very last thing on my mind is blackmail, Mister Price. At the moment I have a pressing need to get off this bed and get dressed.’
‘Go ahead.’
There was a grin on his face now, and her insides fluttered like a salad being tossed. It was obvious she’d have to reason with him. ‘Mister Price, I came here to talk to you - and for no other reason. I’m not the type of woman you seem to think I am.’
His lip curled.
He was impossible! Her glance went to the sheet ... if she snatched it off him fast ...?
‘Don’t even think about it.’ A warning glint of arctic gray came her way before his dark eyelashes closed again. ‘Talk, lady - and make it fast.’
The fury Darcie had experienced the night before was impossible to rekindle when dressed only in a pillow. He had her at a disadvantage - and knew it!
Taking a deep breath she flung the pillow at his face, leaped out of bed and dived for the robe she’d left on the chair. It was safely wrapped around her when she turned to face him. ‘Now we can talk!’
Someone rapped on the door.
Alarm triggered in him as he remembered Helen. ‘Don’t you dare open it!’
She flung a laugh his way. ‘Are you kidding? It’s the breakfast I ordered.’
And breakfast meant a waiter - and a waiter meant safety to her. She made the door in five seconds flat and opened it a crack, inviting, ‘Come in.’
Leon groaned.
He caught sight of a glimpse of a pair of vicious green eyes and a red-slashed mouth. The next minute Darcie Channing was sent sprawling backwards as the door was pushed in her face. She managed a suitably succinct curse as she landed on her back.
‘It’s not what it looks like, Helen,’ Leon Price said desperately as Darcie scrambled up from the floor.
‘No?’
Helen was some riled-up lady, Darcie noticed as the woman whipped the crumpled sheet from Leon’s body with the finesse of a matador waving a cape at the bull.
‘Ahah!’ Helen cried out.
Ole! Darcie thought, her eyes widening a fraction.
Leon covered his tool set with a two-handed protection technique. He had the desperate look of an animal about to be gelded and Helen was obviously the type of woman with the disposition to do it.
She suddenly felt sorry for him. ‘You’re making a big mistake if you think-’
‘Shut up you cheap little tramp. I’ll deal with you, after.’
That’s what she thought. Darcie was not about to be mauled by a female with nails as long as hers - or get involved in something that wasn’t her business! Discretion getting the better of valor she picked up her case and headed for the bathroom. For safety’s sake she shot the bolt on the door and turned on the shower so she didn’t have to be a witness to Leon Price’s murder.
Ten minutes later when the shouting had died down, she pulled a raspberry colored sweater over her head, and then tore the wrapping from a complimentary toothbrush. She scrubbed noisily at her teeth.
She nodded in approval as Leon’s voice rose above that of Helen’s and smiled at her reflection when he said, ‘This is the last time I ask you.’
‘You must be mad if you think I’m going to give up my friends and live in this dump of a place. I hadn’t realized you were quite so drearily provincial. If you want a wife and children you can marry that cheap little trick you shacked up with last night. She’ll probably jump at the chance.’
Darcie gave her reflection a tooth-pasty grimace, rinsed her mouth and spat the water down the plughole.
‘I might just do that, Helen.’
And a canine chorus might sing The Messiah at the Sydney opera house!
‘Go ahead.’ Helen’s voice was one big sneer. ‘You’d better warn her though. Every time I snap my fingers the great Leon Price will come running back to my bed. You see, Leon darling. The thing I find quite divine about you is your ability to -’
Darcie hastily stuck her fingers in her ears, and only deemed it safe to remove them when the sound of a slamming door reverberated through the bathroom. He was that good, huh! She waited for a few minutes, giving him time to compose himself, then poked her head around the corner. ‘Is it safe to come out?’
Water dripped from his crisp, dark hair. Reaching for a towel she threw it at him.
‘Thanks,’ he grunted, applying it to his head as he glared at her.
There were roses all over the pillow and a vase still spouting water on to the middle of the bed.
‘Helen doesn’t muck about, does she?’
She couldn’t decide whether his lip movement was a snarl, a grimace or a grin. At least he was more or less dressed, she thought deciding to risk it anyway, as, case in hand she strolled casually out of the bathroom and towards the door.
He looked as mad as a nest of hornets! She winced as he savagely zipped up his jeans and said, ‘Where do you think you’re going?’
‘To chase up my cousin. I can ring for a taxi from the phone box down the road.’
‘You’re not going anywhere until this is sorted out. You worm your way into my room ... sleep in my bed ... destroy my life, then expect me to let you walk away as if nothing has happened. Get real, lady.’
‘Perhaps I should make an appointment to see you after your disposition improves.’ A battle went on his eyes, then he frowned ominously and his forefinger stabbed at a chair. ‘Sit!’
She sat.
Just then breakfast arrived - born by a waitress Darcie vaguely remembered from her school days. ‘It’s Jean isn’t it ... Jean Edwards?’
‘Darcie Channing? I’d heard you’d gone to England.’ She threw a nervous glance at Leon who was gazing out of the window. ‘Did you want me to open the champagne you ordered, Mister Price - or will you do it?’
‘Just leave it.’
‘Congratulations,’ Jean whispered, staring down at Darcie’s hand. ‘I never realized it was you. What a lovely engagement ring? You are lucky. Wait until I tell the others I went to school with you.’
Darcie stared stupidly at the heart shaped diamond on her finger. Where the hell had that materialized from?
‘I’m sorry about your father,’ Jean said. ‘It must have been a shock.’
Leon came be
tween them, his voice even, and with no evidence of temper in it. ‘I’ll finish off, Jean.’
‘Congratulations, sir.’
‘Thank you.’ Leon ushered her firmly to the door. ‘Has Harry’s wife had the baby yet?’
‘Oh yes, just after midnight. A little girl, they’re calling her Rose.’
‘Tell him congratulations, and I’ll expect a cigar when he comes in.’ He closed the door behind Jean, leaned against the panel and gazed reflectively at her. ‘Now I know why your name is familiar. I bought that old shack at Petrel Point from someone called Channing. You were that skinny kid who got her tongue caught in her braces when I visited the second time.’
The reminder brought a scowl to her face. ‘You stole the land, you mean. That shack was my home - mine and my father’s. My cousin had no authority to sell it as soon as my father died.’
Leon’s face tightened for a second. ‘I assure you, the deal was completely above board. It was handled by my lawyer.’
Then either your lawyer is as crooked as my cousin, or the three of you are in cahoots.’ She shot to her feet. ‘Whichever it is, I intend to get to the bottom of it. Then I’m going to take you to court. I want my land back, my house back, all my belongings back, and Wee Georgie.’
‘Wee Georgie?’ There was something totally attractive about the quizzical frown he gave. His looks hit her in the guts like a sledgehammer. She sucked in her stomach muscles to steel herself against them. No man should be as attractive as this one.
‘Wee Georgie is my dog.’
‘Ah ...’ A small lopsided smile curved one side of his mouth into a dimple. ‘For a moment, I thought he might have been your son.’
She waved her hand at him. ‘As you can see I’m not mar ...’ The stone in the ring caught the light. ‘Would you mind telling me what this is, and how it got on my finger? I’m positive I didn’t steal it.’
‘It’s an engagement ring. I put it there when we were in bed together last night.’
‘Very funny.’ A thought suddenly struck her. ‘Why did you give Jean the impression we were engaged? Oh, my God!’ Her hand flew to her mouth. ‘She’s going to tell everyone.’
‘Look at it this way, Darcie,’ he drawled. ‘It will provide a credible reason for you being in my room.’
‘I happened to be here on a business matter. Is it my fault your receptionist mistook me for that ... that –’
‘Helen?’
‘Yes, Helen.’ She gave him a searching glance. ‘Look, I’m sorry Helen got the wrong idea. Perhaps if I went to see her and explained.’
‘She’d swallow you in one bite.’
‘That would make two of us?’
He shrugged, his eyes searching her face. ‘I suppose it was understandable under the circumstances. How much did you overhear?’
‘As little as possible, but it was hard not to hear some of it.’ She traced a pattern on the table with her fingernail. ‘If you ask me you’d be safer swimming with a tank full of piranhas than married to her.’
‘I didn’t ask you, but I think you could be right,’ he said, his words accompanied by a delicious little smile that made her want to giggle. ‘Let’s be civilized, shall we? First we’ll eat breakfast and drink the champagne. After that, I’ll phone my lawyer and you can phone your cousin. We’ll arrange a meeting and sort things out.’
She stared at him long and hard. He didn’t look like a crook, she had to admit - but then, she’d never met one as far as she knew.
‘Yes?’ he coaxed, unleashing the full charismatic force of his smile. ‘I’m quite prepared to forget all about last night.’
Suddenly, forcefully, she was reminded of the way he’d kissed her awake. What had Helen said? ‘The thing I find divine about you is your ability to – ’ Darcie blushed.
‘Have I said something wrong?’
‘No ... of course not.’ Totally flustered she couldn’t meet his eyes.
‘Good.’ He set a plate in front of her. ‘I hope you like cheese omelet, because that’s what I ordered for us. Tell me all about yourself. Have you got a boyfriend, Darcie?’
‘Not any more.’ She shrugged. ‘It was a scenario similar to the one you’ve just been through - only it took place on the beach and there was no doubt about what the pair of them were up to.’
‘Did you mind very much?’
‘At the time I was heartbroken. It happened at my twenty-first birthday party - and everyone felt sorry for me because it involved my best friend.’
‘What happened to them?’
‘They got married and left town. The last I heard they were perfectly happy and had a child, so it worked out for the best.’
‘You don’t hold a grudge?’
‘What’s the point? I soon got over him. I just wished he’d been honest and told me they were in love. I don’t like deceit.’
He filled up her champagne glass and smiled. ‘Tell me about your father.’
So she talked about her childhood, her father’s funny ways and all the happy memories in her life. Then she described her shock at finding the house demolished.
He was a good listener, and seemed sympathetic.
When breakfast was over she felt slightly light-headed - and she liked Leon Price a lot more than was good for her.
He rang his lawyer to explain the situation, and then left her to contact her cousin in private, explaining he had something to do in the meantime. ‘Don’t forget to ask him about Wee Georgie,’ he said, just before he shut the door behind him. ‘Your cousin might have put him in a boarding kennel.’
Colin’s phone had been cut off, a recorded message said. It was too early to contact him at the bank, so she rang the kennels in the district and was rewarded on the third try. She couldn’t wait to see Georgie.
‘Would it be possible for you to deliver him right away? I’ll pay the outstanding account when he arrives. How much is owed?’
Her eyes widened a fraction, but she knew she had enough cash in her purse - just. Later, she’d go to the bank.
Wee Georgie arrived within ten minutes and was handed to her at the end of the drive, where she anxiously waited. After the excitement of reunion was over she took him back to the room. It really was nice of Leon to suggest she could collect him from the kennels.
The breakfast tray had been cleared and the damp bedding changed, but the remains of the champagne was still in the ice bucket. She had a glass to celebrate, and gave the rest to Wee Georgie as a welcome back treat.
There was something important she was supposed to do, but she couldn’t remember what. She wasn’t quite over her jet lag, she supposed, and flopped down on the bed for a quick nap.
‘You know you shouldn’t be on the bed,’ she scolded sleepily as Wee Georgie snuggled up next to her ...
* * * *
Thank God nobody had been about when Helen had made her scene and the part of the inn he occupied was empty of guests, Leon thought. The whole episode had left a nasty taste in his mouth, and it could have been embarrassing if they’d been overheard.
He was still smarting at what Helen had said to him, but something good had come out of it. He realized that he’d had a lucky escape when she’d turned down his proposal. Helen was totally selfish, and today she’d demonstrated a complete lack of trust in him, and showed what she was really like.
So there had been a strange girl in his room ... and she hadn’t been wearing much. And he’d been naked. That was no reason to suspect the worst.
She’d said straight out that she had no intention of spoiling her figure by having children - and if he dissolved the partnership with her brother she’d finish with him for good.
But that’s what he’d instructed his lawyer to do this morning. Helen’s brother had never pulled his weight, and now he knew why. Helen controlled him. Leon wasn’t about to let her control him too. He was quite willing to sell if Martin wanted to buy his share - otherwise he’d buy him out.
The relief he felt surprised h
im, and he knew now that he’d never been in love with her, or she him. But now he had another problem. Darcie Channing. He’d never met anyone like her before, and wanted to laugh every time he thought of her. Either she was crazy, or he was. Her mind seemed to fly off at a tangent at every turn. But she was a very sexy lady, for all that - and it was something to do with her naturalness. What you saw was what you got with her. There was no dishonesty or deviousness. Her emotions were written in her body language and in her eyes, exactly how he remembered her as a teenager. Only she wasn’t skinny now - she was perfect.
He tried not to think of her body language as he strode back through the lobby toward his room. He’d heard enough to realize she was extremely vulnerable at the moment. Her father’s death had knocked her for six, and hadn’t really sunk in as far as he could see. She hadn’t had time to grieve, and was loaded down with imagined problems.
It was ridiculous to imagine he’d cheat her out of her home - yet he experienced unease as he thought of how she must have felt to come back from England and find everything gone - even her little dog. He hoped she’d managed to track the mutt down.
Darcie Channing was crying out for someone, or something to love - and she needed someone to lean on. He and Wee Georgie would make a good team if they paired up - and something might develop from it.
His smile faded as he opened the door. ‘What the hell!’
It looked as though a tornado had hit the room. Tables and chairs were turned over, the Venetian blind hung drunkenly from the window. His briefcase had been flung against the wall, the papers scattered.
Someone had broken in.
‘Darcie,’ he whispered, his heart going to his mouth as he took long, loping strides towards the bed. She was lying on her stomach, her head to one side. Oh my God, she was unconscious! Gently he smoothed the hair away from her face. ‘Say something. Are you all right?’
Her eyes opened and she subjected him to a blank stare, then awareness came into them.
He froze as he heard a noise behind him. Fool! He should have checked the bathroom flashed though his mind. He turned too late. Something large, dark and hairy tackled him from behind and knocked him flat on top of her. Flinging an arm up to defend himself he found it caught in a crocodilian grip.’
