Читать книгу Give A Man A Bad Name - Roberta Leigh - Страница 4

WHEN Marly Bradshaw saw Alex Hamilton for the first time, she knew he was the man of her dreams.

It was an unusually romantic thought for a young woman who had always considered herself practical and intelligent; more interested in her career than cooking, in climbing the corporate ladder than catering to a husband’s whims.

And yet...

‘He affected me that way too,’ her closest friend Nan commented. ‘Even now my heart thumps when I see him.’

‘He probably has a squeaky voice and a wife and four kids!’ Marly grinned.

Nan shook her head so vigorously that her thick black hair, permed into a riot of curls, bounced around her head. ‘He has the sexiest deep brown voice and he’s single.’

Further conversation was cut short by Nan being called to Reception, and Marly, returning to her office, thought for the umpteenth time what a stroke of luck it was that Steve Rivers, her boss at 3S Software in London, had asked her if she would consider going to Thailand to set up a computer program for the Riverside Hamilton, the newest luxury hotel of the Hamilton chain.

‘Consider it?’ she had exclaimed. ‘Why, I’d jump at it! My great-grandmother was Thai, and it’s my favourite country in all the world.’

‘Mine too,’ Steve had agreed. ‘How did your great-grandpa meet his wife? Thailand wasn’t a tourist spot in those days.’

‘He was a diplomat, and so was her father. They met at an embassy party and it was love at first sight.’

A month later had found Marly in Bangkok, staying with Nan Damrong and her parents. The two girls had met at boarding-school, and since then Marly had visited Thailand every other year, so that the prospect of seeing Nan for a couple of months had made the job doubly attractive.

Arriving at the Riverside for her first day of work, she had been disconcerted to discover that Alex Hamilton, heir to the business and temporary manager of its newest hotel, had been called to a board meeting in New York, leaving her to kick her heels till he returned and told her exactly how he wanted her to prepare the software.

Chafing at the delay, she had none the less used it to learn as much about the running of the hotel as possible, knowing it would help her devise the most efficient program. She had also renewed her acquaintance with Bangkok, for in the two years since she had been here it had changed considerably, with the addition of two more luxury hotels, another huge shopping complex, and high-rise office blocks mushrooming everywhere.

She had been delighted to find her knowledge of Thai—originally learned from Nan and then perfected by tapes and discs—was as good as ever, thanks to an aptitude for foreign languages. Indeed, one afternoon wandering the crowded streets, she had haggled over the price of a blouse and been mistaken for a Thai! As she was petite and fine-boned, with silky black hair inherited from her great-grandmother, and almond-shaped brown eyes inherited from a Cornish grandfather, this wasn’t surprising. And even after she had produced her passport to prove it, the local man had not been entirely convinced.

She was still amused by the incident when, returning to the Riverside, she had her first glimpse of Alex Hamilton. Not that she had known who he was. She had been standing by the magazine stall to one side of the huge marble foyer, when an unusual bustle at the vast plate-glass entrance doors made her turn to see what it was about. Yet another VIP, she had assumed, and expecting one to saunter in, had instead seen a very tall man with hair thick and tawny as a lion’s mane stride smartly across the floor, accompanied by scurrying minions.

Curious to know who he was, she had moved forward, not realising she was in his path until he stopped and frowned. Not even the drawing together of strongly marked eyebrows could mar the handsome face, for which the word ‘chiselled’ was singularly apt. High cheekbones swept down to a firm jaw, redeemed from squareness by a cleft chin, and deep-set eyes—the grey of woodland smoke—raked her from head to toe.

If he had run his hands over her body her reaction could not have been more startled. It was as if she had been given a shot of adrenalin. Her pulses raced, her breathing quickened, and the world seemed a brighter, more exciting place.

I’m mad, she thought, quite mad! But she knew she wasn’t; she was simply aware that for the first time in her life her innermost core had been touched. Colour came and went in her cheeks and she mumbled an apology and stepped back, glad of the huge dark glasses half covering her face.

Acknowledging her movement with a faint smile, which drew her attention to his mobile, well shaped mouth, he strode past her, and as he disappeared into a lift, still accompanied by members of the hotel staff, she asked a passing bellboy who he was.

‘Mr Hamilton,’ came the reply.

Stunned, she had stared at the lift doors. So that was the man who was to be her boss for the next two months! The prospect was as full of spice as gingerbread, and she had raced up the wide, carpeted stairs to the mezzanine floor that led to the offices, intent on sharing her experience with Nan.

‘He’s a real dreamboat, isn’t he?’ her friend had agreed. ‘But not an easy man to know. He plays his cards close to his chest.’

‘Does he have a girlfriend?’

‘In the plural. They line up for him and fall at his feet like ninepins. But he’s soon off with the old and on with the new.’

Marly was mulling this over as she slid into the passenger seat of Nan’s car to go home, though she did not mull for long, for she was soon holding on to her seat for dear life. Nan, in common with the majority of Thais, drove fast: weaving in and out of traffic, dodging oncoming cars, taxis and tuk-tuks—three-wheeled scooter taxis—and skimming so close to them that she practically scraped their paintwork!

But when a motorcyclist cut in front of them for no reason other than to mount a pavement and park his bike there, Marly had had enough and shut her eyes tight. But she opened them again immediately, deciding it was easier to cope with seen fear. Heart in mouth, she watched Nan shoot along the inside lane, overtake a single-decker bus with people clinging to the doors like limpets, and swing sharply left into the quiet side-street where she lived.

‘I’ll never get used to the way you drive,’ Marly gasped, emerging from the car outside her friend’s home.

Large, beautiful, and built of golden teak, it was in the Thai gabled roof tradition, and could have been mistaken for two houses instead of one, had it not been for the balcony joining them together on the upper floor. It was also quite a rarity among Bangkok’s newer single-storeyed houses with their corrugated-iron roofs, though recently the traditional had started coming back into favour, albeit at exorbitant prices.

Leaving their shoes by the front door before stepping over the threshold—as was the custom—they walked into the living-room and, with palms together and heads bowed, waied Nan’s mother in the time-honoured greeting towards Thai elders and superiors.

Since first visiting her friend, Marly had been touched by such customs, for they indicated a respect and caring for each other that was endemic to Thai culture.

‘Your father is bringing Kevin Rossiter back with him from the hospital,’ Nan’s mother told them. In a pastel-blue cheong-sam, the traditional dress still favoured by many Thai women, she was smaller than her daughter, with silky, grey-streaked hair drawn into a coil at the nape of her neck. ‘Kevin is a brilliant young doctor and has been working with the professor for the past month,’ she explained to Marly.

‘Is he staying for dinner?’ Nan questioned.

‘He’ll be very welcome if he does,’ her mother replied, surveying the table the maid had set with more places than the size of her family. Thai hospitality was legendary, their homes and food being shared with anyone who cared to accept it.

Twenty minutes later Marly and her friend, showered and changed into softly shaded dresses, returned to the living-room where Nan’s father was talking to a sandy-haired young man.

‘Kevin’s from New Zealand and is studying tropical medicine in my department,’ Professor Damrong, a stockily built man a little taller than his wife, informed Marly.

Smiling at the visitor, Marly saw only Alex Hamilton’s face staring down at her—Alex Hamilton of the smoky grey eyes, chiselled features and supercilious smile, the man whose path she had blocked earlier that day.

‘Marly and my daughter were at school together in England,’ the professor went on. ‘She’s here to prepare a computer program for the Riverside Hamilton.’

‘Sounds a big job,’ Kevin commented, warm hazel eyes intent on her. ‘Why don’t you and Nan have dinner with me and put me in the picture? I’m a computer nut.’

‘You two go,’ Nan said promptly. ‘I’m behind with my lines and have three days left to learn them.’

‘Lines?’ Kevin quizzed.

‘For the cabaret the staff at the hotel are putting on for Christmas.’

‘Looks as if it’s just the two of us,’ Kevin said to Marly, and she tried to look pleased at the prospect.

Her brief encounter with Alex Hamilton had put her on an emotional high, and she was in no mood to make conversation with an earnest young doctor, worthy though he might be. But once seated opposite him in the Italian restaurant of the Royal Orchid Hotel, she was glad she had accepted his invitation. After all, it was stupid to behave like a lovesick schoolgirl over a man who did not know she existed!

‘It’s a stroke of luck meeting you,’ Kevin commented after they had given their order. ‘I hope you’re going to be here for several months?’

‘I’m not sure. It depends how long it takes me to devise the software that the hotel wants.’

‘Is it just for the hotel here?’

‘No. For the whole group.’

‘Obviously a very high-powered woman.’ Kevin looked flatteringly impressed. ‘Is there a boyfriend in the background?’

Marly shook her head. ‘Not even in the foreground! I’ve been too busy with my career. What about you?’

‘Fancy-free and still looking! Like you, I’ve been too busy establishing myself. Still, the worst is behind me and the future is for living,’ he said, signalling the waiter to pour their wine.

Sipping it, Marly studied him through her lashes. He was a nice-looking man if you fancied them fair, hazel-eyed and whipcord-thin. Except that she preferred them tawny-haired, smoky-eyed and powerfully built.

‘Tell me about your job,’ Kevin cut across her musing. ‘Or don’t you like talking shop?’

‘I love it,’ she grinned. ‘But right now there’s nothing much to tell. My boss was away until today, and I haven’t yet found out what my brief is.’

‘When did you arrive?’

‘A week ago, and I’ve been champing at the bit till now. Though to be honest I love wandering around Bangkok.’

‘Maybe we can wander together,’ he suggested. ‘How are you fixed for tomorrow? I’m always free on a Sunday.’

‘I’m not. At least not this Sunday,’ Marly lied, reluctant to give him any encouragement. ‘Now that Mr Hamilton’s back I’d better stay in the Riverside.’

‘Fair enough. But if you think I’m letting you off the hook...’

She smiled at his persistence and tactfully changed the subject. ‘How long are you here for?’

‘Six months. Before that I was doing a course in the States.’

‘What do you think of the standard of medicine there?’

Marly had hit on one of his hobby-horses, and for the remainder of the evening she managed to keep the conversation away from herself.

‘I’ll call you in a couple of days,’ Kevin said when he delivered her home.

‘Fine. By then I should know what free time I’ll have.’

As she let herself into the house, she forgot him completely. Strange that one uncaring man could bowl you over in a second, and another—striving for hours to make a good impression—could leave no impression whatever.

‘Enjoy yourself?’ Nan asked, bouncing into Marly’s room as she climbed into bed.

‘It was pleasant enough.’

‘Poor Kevin! That sounds like the kiss of death!’

‘He’s a nice guy but—’

‘He doesn’t set you on fire.’

‘That’s the story of my life!’ Marly yawned and stretched her arms above her head. ‘Are you rehearsing tomorrow?’

‘Until late afternoon. And you?’

‘I’m going to take it easy.’

‘You’ve done nothing else for a week!’

‘Blame Mr Hamilton,’ Marly said sleepily. ‘See you at breakfast.’

‘I’ll be gone before you get up,’ Nan answered, and switching off the centre light, left the room.

Emerging from the shower next morning, Marly heard a light tap at her door, and Ying, the youngest of the family’s four servants, told her she was wanted on the telephone. It was probably Kevin. He had not believed her excuse and had decided to try his luck again. Wrapping a towel round her, she hurried down to the living-room and picked up the receiver.

The voice at the other end was so unexpected, she nearly dropped it.

‘Andrea! How marvellous to hear from you. You sound so close.’

‘I am. I’m at Bangkok airport. The plane made an emergency landing here due to engine trouble.’

‘Have you finished your teaching job in Singapore?’

‘Yes. Well, to be honest, I resigned. I had to get away.’

‘What went wrong?’

‘I can’t talk on the phone. Is there any chance of you coming to the airport to see me?’

‘Of course,’ Marly said instantly. ‘How long do you have?’

‘A couple of hours. Get here soon, will you? I’ll wait for you in the main cafeteria.’

Marly hurried to her room to dress. She, Nan and Andrea had been inseparable at school, and had remained in touch through lengthy letters and the occasional telephone call. It was almost six months since she and Andrea had met, and it would be wonderful to see her again, though her tone of voice did not augur a happy meeting. Still, that was when one needed one’s friends.

Nan’s driving was as nothing to the forty-five-minute taxi ride Marly had to endure along the Expressway to Don Muang Airport, and as she entered the air-conditioned concourse she felt more in need of a stiff brandy than mid-morning coffee!

Her first sight of Andrea gave her a shock, for the radiant blonde she had last seen was now a picture of abject misery: hair without lustre, eyes puffy with unshed tears, and a once curvaceous figure angular.

‘Darling!’ Marly exclaimed, clasping her close. ‘What’s happened to you?’

Tears spilling over, Andrea told her.

It was a man, of course. The most fabulous man in Singapore—an Adonis, naturally!—with wit, charm, and money in abundance. A whirlwind courtship had been followed by a proposal of marriage, after which she had moved in with him. Then six weeks ago he had announced that he had changed his mind about marriage, packed his bags and departed for Italy.

‘Try a Dutchman next time,’ Marly advised, trying to lighten her friend’s mood. ‘Italians are known for their roving eye.’

‘He’s English,’ Andrea corrected. ‘He was going to Italy to take charge of a hotel his family owns there, and I’m pretty certain he’s got another woman in Rome.’

‘Odd that he’s in the hotel business,’ Marly put in ironically. ‘So is my temporary boss, and he’s also a walking Adonis.’

‘Steer clear of him, then,’ Andrea muttered. ‘At least ugly men are grateful if you fancy them! Alex simply took it for granted. Not surprising, considering the way the girls chased him.’

‘Alex?’ Marly echoed, her pulse jumping erratically. ‘What’s his last name?’

‘Hamilton.’

Unbelievable! It was her boss. So much for meeting the man of her dreams. After the story she had just heard, he could best be described as every girl’s nightmare.

Marly wondered whether to tell her friend that her ex-fiancé had lied about going to Rome, and was actually in charge of the family hotel in Bangkok where, far from being with one woman, he would happily be taking his pick of a line-up! But Andrea was unhappy enough as it was, and it would serve little purpose to inform her that the man she still loved wasn’t merely a philanderer but a liar into the bargain!

‘He sounds a real swine,’ she said instead. ‘Forget him.’

‘I wish I could,’ Andrea answered miserably. ‘But I still love him. Perhaps I shouldn’t have moved in with him. I feel as if I’ve let myself down.’

‘That’s crazy talk, Andrea. It’s Alex who’s let you down, not yourself.’

Yet though Marly said this she found it easy to empathise with her friend, who was echoing Nan’s feelings as well as hers. At sixteen they had all made the same vow, and maturity had not changed their minds. Sex without love was something they abhorred, and no matter how much their other friends teased them for their old-fashioned views, they had held firm to them.

‘Perhaps if I hadn’t gone to bed with him, he might have married me,’ Andrea said into the silence.

‘You can’t believe a marriage licence would tie down a man of his type?’

‘I suppose not.’ Tears fell fast and Andrea fumbled for her handkerchief. ‘He was so wonderful, Marly. Unbelievably handsome and charming.’

‘Unbelievable being the operative word,’ Marly retorted. ‘Forget him. He’s not worth a moment’s thought. You’re young and beautiful, and you’ll soon be rhapsodising over someone more worthwhile.’

Having almost convinced Andrea of this by the time her plane was ready to continue its flight, Marly returned to the city a little easier in her mind. What a nasty trick of fate that Alex Hamilton should turn out to be the biggest pig this side of Eden! Who cared if he was Adonis in looks and charismatic in character? Much better if he had been honest and loyal. But why was she getting so hot under the collar over a man she had merely glimpsed in the entrance lobby of a hotel? It was quite on the cards that if she waited by the magazine stall again she would see a dozen equally handsome and magnetic men!

‘Enjoy your day?’ Nan enquired, coming into Marly’s bedroom later that afternoon, where she sat brushing up her Thai from a television film.

‘Not especially. I saw Andrea.’

‘She’s here?’

‘Not any longer.’ Briefly Marly recounted Andrea’s story, and had the dubious pleasure of seeing Nan become as furious as herself.

‘I know Mr Hamilton plays the field, but I never imagined he’d ask a girl to marry him and then walk out on her. Are you sure she wasn’t exaggerating?’

‘Oh, come on, Nan, you know Andrea better than that. She may look like a dumb blonde, but she certainly isn’t one. Believe me, I’ve never seen her so devastated.’

‘I wish you’d persuaded her to stay with us for a week or so.’

‘I was going to suggest it, but I was worried she might bump into him here. I didn’t tell her he hadn’t gone to Rome.’

‘I’d forgotten that.’ Nan sank cross-legged to the floor. ‘A good thing you discovered the sort of man he is. From the way you reacted when you saw him, you might have become the next discard!’

Marly was honest enough not to deny it.

‘Think you can take another shock?’ Nan ventured.

‘Depends.’

‘We need someone to replace Siri, the other Thai girl in the cabaret. She’s gone down with bronchitis.’

‘So why tell me?’ Marly asked.

‘Because the part calls for a Thai, and you can pass for one.’

‘But I’ve never acted in my life!’

‘All females know how to act!’

‘Maybe, but not on stage.’

‘What’s the difference? Be a sport, Marly. Siri was only in one sketch, and with your photographic memory you’ll waltz through it.’

Marly sighed, swayed by Nan’s downcast expression. ‘Very well, but don’t blame me if I flop.’

‘You won’t. You’ll be wonderful!’

‘What if Mr Hamilton won’t give me time off to rehearse? Now he’s back he may expect me to get cracking on the software.’

‘Find out and let me know.’

Next morning Marly hung around restlessly in her office waiting to be summoned to meet Alex Hamilton, and when lunchtime came and went without a call, she bearded his English secretary, Miss Granger.

‘Sorry I didn’t contact you before now,’ the girl apologised. ‘I meant to, but it’s been hectic here. Mr Hamilton asked me to apologise on his behalf, and say he won’t be able to see you for several days. He was away longer than he anticipated and has a mass of work to catch up on.’

Far from being upset by this, Marly was relieved. She was still seething over his treatment of Andrea, and might have found it difficult to hide her feelings. But this respite would not only give her a chance to learn her lines and rehearse for the show, but also enable her to get used to the idea of working for a man she thoroughly despised.