Roberta Leigh - Give A Man A Bad Name Page 3

  Small trees, festooned with hundreds of tiny silver lights, illumined a scene of fairy-tale splendour: candlelit tables, an enormous buffet, some twenty feet long, filled with assorted cold foods, a dozen or more barbecue carts, each with its chef cooking his own speciality, be it Tiger Bay prawns, lobsters, poultry or meats, and white-jacketed waiters staggering under trays laden with every kind of vegetable.

  To Marly, it seemed there wasn't an empty space anywhere, and she happily waited for Alex to be told there was no room for him. But it was not to be.

  'A moment, please, sir.' The mattre d' himself came hurrying over. 'We are arranging a table for you.'

  As he spoke, two waiters were busy setting one up beneath a palm tree, and with a flourish he led them to it. As they sat down, a third waiter came forward with two glasses and a bottle of champagne in an ice-bucket.

  'With the compliments of the Shangri-la, Mr Hamilton,' the maitre d' smiled, and bowed away.

  'Why are you known here?' Marly asked. 'You told me you're a stranger in my city.'

  'I am. But my face isn't. It's been in your papers and magazines for weeks.'

  'Ah… Because of your hotel?'

  'Yes.'

  'It must make you feel good to be so important.' He stiffened, as though wondering if she was being sarcastic, but she fixed him with a wide-eyed stare and he relaxed.

  'It's the job that's important, Marly, not me personally.'

  'But you are the job,' she said with pretended naivet6. 'You wouldn't have it if the Riverside didn't belong to your family.'

  He choked on his drink and hurriedly set it down. 'Hamilton Hotels may be a family concern, but we have a tough board of directors, and no one gets to be in a top position unless they've proved themselves capable of handling it.' 'I think you're extremely capable, Mr Hamilton.'

  'I can be gentle and caring too, if you'll give me the chance.'

  Wishing she could blush to order, Marly lowered her head and tried to look discomfited.

  'I've embarrassed you, haven't I?' he went on softly.

  'No, but you worry me.'

  'Why?'

  Keeping her head low to hide the mischief in her eyes, she said, 'Your staff call you a lady-killer.'

  'Do they, by God?' His voice was sharp, and she recoiled from him as though nervous. 'What do you think?' he asked, softening his tone.

  'It isn't seemly for me to comment on the behaviour of my employer.'

  'If you had anything nice to say, I think you'd find it very seemly,' came his dry comment. 'Which reminds me, you never did get to tell me what you do at the hotel.'

  Here was the moment of truth—well, partial truth, Marly thought and, drawing a deep breath, took the bull by the horns—a singularly apt phrase in the circumstances! 'I'm here to set up a software program for you.'

  Astonishment held him silent. 'You are?' he said finally. 'What's happened to Miss Bradshaw?'

  'She was taken ill as she was leaving England, and 3S called and asked me to replace her.'

  'I can't believe it.'

  'Don't you think me capable?' Marly questioned in her haughtiest manner.

  'No, not that. But you seem so young and innocent I can't imagine you in such a high-powered job.'

  'I fail to see why. Children of twelve and fourteen can create software packages, and at thirty, in this profession, you are considered over the hill. I'm sure I can do the work as well as Miss Brigshade.'

  'Bradshaw,' Alex Hamilton corrected automatically, 'and I'm sure you can too. It's just that you took me by surprise. Do you work for 3S or are you a freelance?'

  'I'm a freelance,' Marly replied. '3S were put in touch with me by my friend Nan, who also works at your hotel. I live with her and her family.'

  'I see.'

  Glad that he didn't, she searched for a means of changing the subject. 'I hope you won't consider me rude, Mr Hamilton, but I'm very hungry.'

  'Good heavens! How remiss of me. I'm so interested in knowing more about you that I forgot about food. Do you want to order from the menu or try the buffet?'

  'The buffet, please.' Rising, she glided towards the long table, Alex following on her heels. Here, the food was cold, each dish and tureen so wonderfully decorated that it could have been framed and hung on a wall. 'Don't you think it looks too good to eat, Mr Hamilton?'

  'I can't tell. My eyes are blinded by you.'

  'Are you usually so complimentary to the women you take out?'

  'Yes. But until tonight, I've never meant it!'

  Biting back the urge to tell him that this line was so old it had cobwebs hanging from it, she gave him a gentle smile instead, and he instantly smiled back. As if it were an actual radiance enveloping her, her body grew hot and her limbs trembled. Watch it, she warned herself. This man is dangerous and not to be taken seriously.

  Quickly skirting the buffet, she headed for a barbecue cart serving an assortment of shellfish. She was careful not to look directly at Alex Hamilton, though a swift glance showed he was studying the food served by each cart, and she wondered if the same things would be featured on the Riverside menu before the week was out. Smiling at the thought, she watched him, noting how thick and dark his lashes were, and how the deep cleft in his firm chin saved it from hardness. As he bent towards the chef who was filling his plate with slivers of barbecued meats and stuffed chicken wings, a tawny lock of hair fell on his forehead, and she experienced a strong urge to touch it and see if it was as silky as it appeared.

  Annoyed with herself, she picked up her plate and returned to their table, and as she did, common sense reasserted itself. It wasn't surprising she was responding to Alex Hamilton's blatant good looks. After all, dozens—maybe hundreds—of girls had already done the same, and in that respect she was no different. But where the difference lay was the manner in which she responded to the man himself. And since she despised his morals and was disgusted by his lack of principle, there was no fear of her falling for him.

  Alex joined her, a waiter following with a tray stacked with food. Her eyes widened at the amount but she said nothing.

  'I noticed you only took a few Tiger Bay prawns,' he commented, settling opposite her. 'I wasn't sure if well brought-up Thai ladies don't consider it good form to eat too much in public, or whether you were too shy because you work for me, so I thought I'd tempt you with a few more dishes.'

  She was touched by his thoughtfulness, until she realised it was part and parcel of his armoury for disarming his prey before going in for the kill.

  'How kind you are,' she simpered. 'And you were right.'

  'Which one was the reason?'

  'Both!'

  'A pity,' he drawled. 'That will make it doubly difficult for me to get to know you.' He paused. 'Difficult, but I hope not impossible.'

  Hiding the thrill of triumph that shot through her, she began to eat. 'My father says hope is one of the most important emotions a person can have.'

  'Your father sounds a man after my own heart. Does he live in the city?'

  'Not at present. He and my mother are in Dallas for a year. My father's a lawyer with an oil company.' At least that part of her story was true, which meant one lie less to remember.

  'So that's why you're living with Nan,' Alex Hamilton said. 'Wouldn't you have preferred to live on your own?'

  Did she detect a note of regret in his voice that his evening with her wasn't going to end up in her bed? Hiding her amusement, she decided to give him a few other things to mull over.

  'Thai children rarely leave home until they marry— and not always then, if the parental house is large enough.'

  'Wouldn't you prefer to have your own place?'

  'Why should I? I have no desire to have an affair, and living with my family is far more convenient.'

  Startled grey eyes met hers. 'For a shy young lady, you can be remarkably frank.'

  'We see nothing wrong in talking honestly about our feelings.'

  'Only talking?'

  Delib
erately she stared him full in the face. 'I am a virgin, Mr Hamilton, if that is what you are asking.'

  'I—I——- ' Flummoxed, he stopped, his heightened colour showing that again she had taken him by surprise.

  'When will you have time to discuss the software programs you want me to do?' she asked before he could recover. 'I'm bored doing nothing.'

  'If I'd known you were waiting for me,' he replied, his wits returning, 'I'd have seen you the instant I got back! Beats me why my secretary didn't tell me Miss Bradshaw wasn't able to come. I———— '

  'I'd like to start earning my salary,' Marly cut in, intent on showing him she was uninterested in further flattery. 'I assume you'll want the software in Thai as well as English?'

  'Yes, but concentrate on the English version first, so I can make sure it covers everything I want, before you start on the translation.'

  'I'll bring in someone else to do that,' she said quickly. 'Your requirements will be complicated enough to require several programs, and a translator can start on one while I'm devising another.' Suddenly aware she sounded too assured, Marly gave a nervous cough. 'If that meets with your approval, of course?'

  'Everything you say meets with my approval, other than your refusal to use my first name.' Spoon and fork poised to help himself to a succulent mix of chicken and baby aubergine, each one no bigger than a walnut, he gave her the full battery of his deep grey eyes. 'Can't you forget tradition and call me Alex? After all, I call you Marly.'

  'You're my employer.'

  'Who wants to be your friend. Come on, say it,' he cajoled.

  Fluttering her lashes at him, she whispered his name.

  'There,' he said, satisfied. "That wasn't too painful, was it?'

  'No, Mr Ha—Alex.' She tilted her head towards him. 'I've never met an Alex before.'

  'And I've never met a Marly.' He began to eat. 'That bodes well for us.'

  'Why?'

  'Because we don't have any preconceived associations with each other's names. If you'd been called Sandra, I'd have had a problem. She was the first girl I fell in love with—I was fourteen at the time—and she broke my heart.'

  'You mean she turned you down?'

  'Worse. She called me fat and spotty!'

  For the first time Marly's laugh was genuine. 'How long did it take you to recover?'

  'As long as it took me to become spotless and skinny!' A well shaped hand, the fingers long and artistic, rubbed the side of his face. 'I suppose that with your Thai passion for honesty you'd have said the same as she did?'

  'Never.' Marly quickly slipped back into the%>le she was playing. 'We are taught to be frank without being hurtful.'

  'Does that mean that when I ask to see you again you'll turn me down politely?'

  'I'll always be polite.'

  'And always turn me down?'

  'It depends how busy I am. I'm only contracted to work for you for two months, and we've already wasted ten days of it.' Primly she regarded him. 'Will you be going away again soon?'

  'Not as far as I know. I'm here for six months—until all the bugs are ironed out and the hotel is running smoothly. Then I move on to wherever I'm needed.'

  'Are you what they call a trouble-shot?'

  'A trouble-shooter,' he corrected, his grin making him look younger than the thirty-four she knew him to be.

  'Do you normally travel a lot?' she asked, hoping to lead him into discussing his stay in Singapore.

  'Yes. For the past two years I've moved between the Far East and Australia.'

  'Where were you before you came to Thailand?'

  'Sydney, Tokyo, Hong Kong, Singapore——— '

  'I'd love to go to Singapore,' she interjected. 'Did you like it?'

  'It isn't my favourite place,' he answered flatly. 'I prefer Bali and—————— '

  'Why don't you like it?' she persisted.

  'I had an unpleasant experience there that left a rather sour taste.'

  What a hateful way of describing Andrea! A sour taste! 'Is it anything you can discuss?' she asked, oozing sympathy.

  'If I did, you'd find it extremely boring.' He raked a hand through his tawny hair, as if trying to throw off the memory of it. 'Anyway, why waste this lovely setting talking of unpleasant things when we could be talking about you?' He leaned towards her, his chiselled features softened by desire. 'Do you have a boyfriend, Marly?'

  'No,' she replied truthfully.

  'It has to be from choice. I can't believe no man has wanted you.'

  'I've never met one/wanted.' Until I saw you walking across the lobby, she thought, though the feeling had died when she had discovered how heartless he was. But none of her thoughts was apparent on her face as she met his gaze. 'I believe marriage is for life, Mr Hamilton, and I will have to be absolutely certain about a man before I commit myself to him.'

  'How young you sound,' Alex stated, a long-fingered hand playing with the stem of his wine glass. 'When you're my age you'll know nothing is certain in life.'

  Except for one thing, Marly knew: her determination to cut this man down to size.

  'I'm surprised to hear you say that,' she said dulcetly, 'because in the last hour I've become very certain of you.'

  Beautifully marked eyebrows arched above smoky grey eyes. 'Now that's an intriguing statement. Care to explain it?'

  She nodded. 'I'm certain you have a strong sense of honour; that you never wittingly break your word, and that you respect the feelings and wishes of anyone you care for.' Her lids lowered and thick black lashes, long and straight as a doll's, fanned her cheeks as she prepared to deliver the final blow. 'I'm also certain you will respcct my.wish to remain untouched until I marry. Only on that basis am I willing to see you again, should you do me the honour of asking me.'

  Alex leaned back in his chair, his body motionless, his face so devoid of expression that she wondered if she had gone too far. The intention was to intrigue him by being different from his previous girlfriends, not frighten him off completely! Around her she was aware of waiters moving, diners leaving, the clink of glasses, the throb of a passing river boat, the splutter of the pink candle glowing between herself and the man opposite her.

  'Marly, I…' His voice was husky. 'I wouldn't be doing you an honour to ask you out. You'd be doing me the honour by accepting. And I will always respect your wishes. You can trust me completely.'

  As a chicken could trust a fox! she thought, but blinked her lashes and glowed at him. 'Thank you for saying that.'

  'My pleasure.' He raised his glass to her. 'No more worries, eh? Any change of mind will have to come from you.'

  His strategy was as clear as if he had handed it to her on a sheet of paper. She could see every move. Romantic dinners in glamorous places, the serious conversations, the light wine, the chaste goodnight kisses… Until one night when they would dine alone in his suite, and the talk would be more sensuous than serious, the wine heady, the kisses deep and drugging… So drugging that she would be begging him to make love to her. What a swine he was!

  Furiously she flung out her arm and the glass in front of her shattered to the floor.

  Startled, Alex jumped to his feet and came round to her. 'Marly! What's wrong?'

  Bemused, she stared at him, then shook her head. 'An insect, I think. It bit me.' With an effort she gathered herself together. 'I'm sorry I startled you.'

  'Are you sure you're all right?'

  'A little tired perhaps.'

  'Then I'll take you home.'

  Within moments they were in the Mercedes. Alex made no attempt to move close to her, but she was intensely conscious of his tall frame in the confines of the car, and carefully looked away from him, relieved that he seemed content to sit in silence.

  'When may I see you again?' he asked as the car stopped outside the timbered house and he escorted her to the locked gates leading into the compound surrounding it.

  'In the hotel,' she replied, stepping into the courtyard as the family's night-watchma
n unbolted the gate.

  'That isn't what I meant.'

  'I know.'

  With a laugh she lifted her long skirt and ran gracefully up the steps and into the house, firmly resisting the urge to turn and see if he was watching her. But the instant she closed the door, she peered through the peephole and saw he was still standing by the gate, a tall, wide-shouldered figure exuding a power and purpose that would brook no denial.

  Yet deny him she would, and enjoy herself immensely in the process.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Nan almost choked herself laughing when Marly told her that Alex Hamilton had treated her as though she were a fragile piece of china.

  'When are you going to give him his come-uppance and tell him you've made a fool of him?' she asked when she could finally speak.

  'Not until he's fallen for me good and hard.'

  'I hope you can keep up the butter-wouldn't-melt-in- your-mouth act?'

  'That's the only problem. A few times this evening I almost forgot myself and verbally slew him!'

  'If you wore Thai clothes it might remind you to curb your tongue! I'll lend you some of my cheong-sams,' Nan encouraged.

  'Do you think I should wear them the whole time?'

  'Well, women staff at the hotel do, though I suppose you could change when you're off-duty. Except that you were wearing one when he first saw you, and that might be part of your attraction.'

  'Won't the staff find it strange if they see me pretending to be Thai?'

  'Not if you say you're doing it to play a joke on someone. Then they'll never give you away.'

  Apart from a great sense of humour, Thais were among the most generous people on earth, Marly mused one morning after Christmas as she riffled through the brocades, silks and cottons Nan had placed in her wardrobe. Even though she knew cotton was cooler for day wear, she plumped for a peach silk, its long narrow skirt slit up the side to facilitate walking, the tight-fitting, short- sleeved top cut short to show an intriguing two-inch expanse of skin between top and skirt. It was a more constricting outfit than her normal casual summer wear, but needs must when the goal she hoped to achieve was going to give her so much satisfaction.