Читать книгу Assignment: Seduction - Кэтти Уильямс, Cathy Williams - Страница 5

CHAPTER TWO

MELISSA had ten days in which to arrange the technicalities of putting her life in England on hold for two months, and in which to contemplate the essential difference between surprise and shock.

Surprise, she could have pointed out, is when you open the door to your flat, thinking that the world has forgotten your birthday, only to be welcomed by all your friends and the sound of popping champagne corks.

Shock, on the other hand, is when your boss tells you that a gem of an idea which he’s been nurturing from seed for months, little expecting it to ever really go ahead, has taken root, that his little gem of an idea involves an island you barely remember and rather wouldn’t in any case and that you’ll be going there with him on business.

‘You never mentioned this to me,’ was all Melissa could find to say after he had made his announcement.

‘Excuse me while I reach for my hankie so that you can mop up your tears of delight at my little bombshell.’

Bombshell, she had thought, was the operative word, even though she had kept a steady smile on her face while she tried to formulate a few reasons why she couldn’t possibly go with him.

Trinidad, sun-soaked, slow-moving, lush paradise, belonged to her past. When she thought of it, she could barely conjure up memories of all those years she had spent there between the ages of five and eleven, when her stepfather had been posted on the island with the oil company for which he had worked. All she could remember were the rows between her parents. Long, bitter arguments that seemed to rage from one day into the other, with small breaks in between. As she had got older, the reason for the rows had become clear and with understanding came a new, deeper reason to run and hide from the shouting and the angry accusations and counter accusations.

She always felt that her aversion to confrontations stemmed from those childhood experiences when the raised voices of her mother and her stepfather had been enough to reduce her to a curled ball taking refuge in the corner of a room somewhere.

Of course, those memories were a secret, private place she shared with no one, least of all her boss.

‘I couldn’t possibly leave the country for months on end,’ she had objected.

‘It’s eight weeks, not months on end.’

‘What would happen to my flat?’ She had only been a few seconds into her objections and she could see that already his temper was beginning to fray at the edges. ‘I wouldn’t feel happy about leaving it unoccupied for months.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because it might be broken into.’

‘It might be broken into even when you’re in it.’

‘My plants…’

‘Can be watered by a friend. You have got a couple of those lurking around, haven’t you?’

‘Of course, but…’

‘No buts, Mel.’ He had sat back in the chair and regarded her with fatalistic calm. ‘Truth is, I never expected to get hold of this land, but I have and I’m going to need you there with me. You know the way I work and you can handle all the faxes and communications from London and New York without me having to hold your hand and explain things. You’re single, unattached…’ His voice had drifted speculatively into silence. ‘Aren’t you? No boyfriends hovering somewhere in the background, clamouring for tea at seven-thirty and sex every other night?’ There had been a thread of insulting amusement in his voice when he said that.

‘Why not every night?’ she had snapped, instantly regretting her outburst when she saw the glitter of interested curiosity that lit up the deep blue eyes at her unexpected response to his needling. ‘You can’t leave the office for months, anyway.’

‘I can do precisely as I like. I own the whole damn show or had you forgotten?’

And so every twist and turn she had tried had resulted in a dead end and she had found herself grudgingly and resentfully agreeing to his request.

Ten days to buy as much light clothing as she could find in shops that were fully stocked with coats, jackets and woolly jumpers, to arrange with her neighbour for her plants to be watered and the flat to be checked every so often, to sort out the distribution of work between the two girls who reported to her who seemed panic-stricken at the prospect of working on their own, until she reminded them that she would be calling twice a day to make sure that there were no problems.

The arrangements, she thought now, staring absentmindedly through the airplane window to a bank of grey nothing outside, had been remarkably smooth. Robert had been right. She could shed her life for weeks on end without any difficulty whatsoever. There was no one who would miss her, no children to consider, parents to consult, lover to soothe. Not even a cat to fret over.

It gave her ample time to worry about the whole traumatic exercise of returning to her past. It also provided a wonderful springboard for a new and equally disturbing line of thought which involved being in the presence of Robert Downe twenty-four hours a day without the respite of her private time away. True, the hotel would afford her a certain amount of protection but the thought of eating lunch and dinner with him made her feel a little ill.

He hadn’t given her a schedule of his work timetable while out there, but she quickly decided that whatever it was, she would subtly alter it to ensure that business meetings with his lawyers and contractors and designers and architects and all the other people who would be turning his land into a hotel, took place over lunch and dinner. During which time she would either be present, taking notes whenever necessary but basically sliding happily into the background, or else in her hotel room, away from him completely.

By the time the plane landed at a little after six-thirty in the evening at Piarco airport, nerves had been joined by a healthy curiosity about the place she and her mother had left behind fourteen years previously, stripped of all their possessions, fleeing like a couple of thieves in the night while her stepfather remained on the island with the latest in his line of outside women.

There was growing familiarity as she made her way through passport control, lining up behind all the other non-Nationals. She collected her luggage and made her way through customs, to find a sea of people crowding the barriers outside.

The heat was thick and furnace-like. The navy-blue slacks and blouse she had worn for the journey adhered themselves to her body like cling film while she anxiously cast her eyes around for her lift to the hotel.

Robert Downe was nowhere to be seen.

A short, black man asked her if she wanted a taxi and she abstractedly refused, still holding out some hope that her wretched boss would appear even though she knew him well enough to realise that if he had become involved in a phone call five minutes before he was due to leave for her, it was more than possible that he wouldn’t show up for a good while yet. She had dragged her cases to the side and resignedly sat down for an indefinite wait on one of the benches, when a skinny, middle-aged man with coffee-brown skin approached and asked her if she was Melissa James.

‘Yes!’

‘Mr. Downe sent me for you. The car’s over there.’

‘How did you know who I was?’

‘He said that if I arrived late, I would find you waiting somewhere at the side with a long-suffering look on your face, Miss James.’

Remind me, she thought sourly, to murder my boss as soon as I see him and scatter his body parts to the four corners.

‘And where…is…Mr. Downe?’

‘Back at the Kiskidee. He was hard at work when I left.’

They had reached a dusty saloon car parked at an angle in the No Parking zone. He slung her cases in the trunk, opened the back door for her, and as soon as he had settled into the driver’s seat, they sauntered slowly off. It was a relief that the driver was uninterested in making conversation. It gave her time to settle back and watch with a mixture of nostalgia and unease as the landmarks of her past unfolded before her eyes.

Lots seemed to have changed, yet nothing much. The roads were better, at least so far, and as they entered Port of Spain, she could see all the old familiar buildings still there, rubbing shoulders with a few new office blocks. Dim memories of childhood friends stirred at the back of her mind and she wondered what they were up to now. All ties had been severed when they had returned to England and now she could only vaguely recall names and faces.

The drive, stopping and starting and finally moving smoothly as the city was cleared, then the outskirts, then the mountainous winding road along the rocky, lush northern coastline, took over an hour and a half. By the time they hit the first beach along the route, one she remembered very clearly, it was too dark to see anything and she was too tired to be disappointed.

She just wanted to get to the hotel now, have a shower and put her feet up in the privacy of her room.

She must have nodded off because when the car shuddered to a stop, her eyes flew open to see the indistinct outline of her boss peering through the window at her.

‘Here in one piece!’ he said, pulling open the door so that she nearly fell out of the car and had to regain her balance. ‘Sorry I didn’t make it to the airport to collect you myself.’ He held her by her shoulders at arm’s length and stared down at her. ‘I’ve missed you! There’s a pile of work waiting inside.’

‘Thanks,’ Melissa answered drily, shrugging out of his grasp. ‘Nice to feel wanted.’

She fell into step alongside him, while ahead of them, their driver carried her suitcases as though they weighed nothing. All around them the noises of the night, crickets and frogs and the rustle of small animals in the undergrowth, were like a background symphony. She could hear the night breeze sift through the trees and bushes and the sound of the ocean like steady, even breathing, rising and falling and forming a soothing lullaby with the other sounds of the night.

‘Where’s the hotel?’ she asked, perspiring profusely as they made their way along a narrow path bordered with foliage and flowers. They had stopped outside a house and before answering he pushed the door, which had been slightly ajar and turned to her.

‘House, actually.’

She stepped through the door into a tiled, airy room, and rounded on him, aghast.

‘What do you mean house?’

‘Just dump the bags by the table, Raymond. I’ll take them to her room in a little while. See you tomorrow. Tell your wife there’s no need for her to show up before nine.’

‘You told me we’d be staying in a hotel!’ Melissa said shrilly, as soon as they were alone.

‘How does it feel to be back home?’

‘Now you inform me that we’re sharing a house?’

‘You look as though you could do with a shower. You’re perspiring. It’s those clothes you’re wearing.’

‘This is a ridiculous situation! I can’t stay in a house with you for the next two months!’

‘Why not?’

‘Because I just can’t.’

‘Even if I promise not to touch you? However tempted I might be by your sizzling sex appeal and that wicked little way you have of looking at me out of the corner of those big, brown eyes?’ He grinned and she glared at him. ‘Okay! I reserved two rooms at the nearest hotel but even the nearest was too far away from the land, so in the end I had to rent this house. It’s more convenient. Now why don’t you go and freshen up and then join me outside on the porch. I’ll fill you in on what the general schedule’s going to be over the next week or so.’

‘Robert…’ She sighed and folded her arms. The thoughts in her head were too big to explain rationally and her most disturbing thought was the one that was the least possible to elaborate. How could she tell him that she could cope with all his moods, keep up with the frenetic pace he set himself, remain as cool as a cucumber when he stormed through the office because something was bugging him, but the thought of being in his company when work no longer comprised the four walls around them, sent her into a state of mild panic? How could she ever explain that his deliberate teasing threw her into a tizzy, even though she didn’t know why?

‘Yes?’

‘Where’s my bedroom?’

‘Along the corridor to the right. Last on the end. See you in a minute.’

He was whistling as he walked away.

This had not kicked off to a good start. This had all the promise of being one of her bigger life mistakes. No safe hotel with lots of people around, no sanitised conference rooms booked for work and meetings. Just the two of them and without the trappings of an office, who knew what mischief he might feel inclined to indulge in. His warm, sexual teasing could be as intrusive as fingers along her body and although she had always made sure to keep the lines between them very clear, she hadn’t cared for a couple of his insinuations earlier on. She would have to be as business-like as possible, even if she risked seeming a bore in the process.

She showered quickly and hurried outside, where the night air felt cool against her and the sound of the sea was steady and rhythmic, like an African drumbeat. From the open patio, she could look down the small slope and glimpse beach through the coconut trees and bush that fringed the little inlet.

‘I’m on the beach!’ His voice floated up to her mingled with the sound of the surf and when she squinted into the darkness, she could make out a shape standing ankle-deep in the water. ‘Stairs down to the left!’

Melissa licked her dry lips and tentatively made her way down the concrete steps to the beach, holding on to the iron railings on the side with one hand, clutching her notepad and pen with the other.

The dark shape on the beach was waiting patiently for her, looking at her slow progress down, his arms folded, his feet planted solidly on the sand, slightly spread apart. It was too dark to see the expression on his face, but his silhouette was reminiscent of something powerful and indestructible.

‘I thought we were going to do some work,’ she said, when she finally hit sand. The inlet was small, with a thick fringe of bush and trees spreading densely back from the sand, climbing up the small incline that led to the house. The sand felt firm and compacted under her feet and the sea was a black swell beating against the sand.

‘I changed my mind,’ he freely admitted, walking towards her, then past her to what she now saw was a towel spread on the sand, and upon which he flung himself, linking his hands beneath his head and staring up at the starless sky. ‘Actually, I thought you could tell me a bit about the country. After all, you lived here for…how long…? Five years? Six?’

‘I don’t remember much about it,’ Melissa said warily, watching his prone shape on the sand, the way his short, baggy T-shirt rode up to expose the firm skin of his torso, the length of his muscular legs. ‘We left when I was eleven.’

‘Why was that? Daddy got a transfer back to England?’

‘No,’ she said flatly. ‘What are your plans for tomorrow? Will I be staying put here and working or do you need me to come with you to meetings?’

‘Sit down. My neck’s beginning to hurt looking up at you. Besides, I can’t see your face when you’re standing so far away. It’s too dark.’ He shifted a bit and patted a little free patch of towel next to his hip. ‘It’s very disconcerting addressing a faceless disapproving voice. Come and sit by me and tell me all about what you do remember of the place. Come on,’ he said persuasively, ‘I don’t bite, you know.’ He laughed throatily. ‘So you can relax. Look at where we are, for heaven’s sake! Warm night air, sea, sand, stars in the sky…no place for frosty disapproval!’

‘I’m here to work, Robert,’ Melissa reminded him. ‘If you wanted someone to enjoy a romantic, tropical setting with you, then you should have considered bringing your… your…’ Her voice, firmly assured when she had started her little speech, petered out into awkward silence.

‘My…my…lover? Was that the word you were searching for, Melissa? Haven’t got one at the moment, actually. Besides, the last thing I need out here is a lover. I just need you to relax a bit. This isn’t an office now. We’re both going to have to adjust to that fact.’

‘We only came as far as this beach a few times,’ she said eventually, yielding to his request for information simply because she knew that if she didn’t, he would pester her until he got what he wanted. She made no move to sit next to him, though. That was taking relaxation a little too far for her liking. A sudden, graphic image of her thigh bumping against his made her brain temporarily cease functioning, then it recommenced, sending messages to her mouth that it should continue speaking, whatever the content.

‘Most people tend to stop at Maracas Bay which is further back. This is just a little too far for a day trip. I…it’s a lot more developed than I remember. Are there any shops around here? There weren’t fourteen years ago. Just vegetable and fruit stalls by the side of the road. Any shopping entailed a trip to the city.’

In between her babbling, her mind toyed with the delicious and illicit image of his body brushing against hers, the feel of his hard, muscular flesh pressing against her, the touch of his fingers along her stomach and thighs and breasts. She gulped and felt faint. Rather than perch on his towel and send her already fevered mind into further overdrive, she slid down onto the sand and pulled her knees up to her chin, hugging them with her arms.

‘No shops,’ he confirmed, sitting up and looking at her. ‘You’ll get your shorts dirty sitting on the sand. In case I haven’t mentioned it Raymond’s wife will be coming in daily to clean and cook, and yes, you’ll have to come to some of my meetings with me to take notes but a lot of the time you’ll spend here. I’ve managed to get hold of everything you’ll need to work. Fax machine, computer, printer, stationery, the usual.