out of her skin when a knock came on the door. But it wasn’t on that door. It was on the one which led in from the corridor.
They’ve discovered the mistake, she thought, relieved that she hadn’t surrendered to the curiosity which would have led her into a very awkward indiscretion.
Anticipating a return of the manager, she was surprised when a maid entered, bearing an elegant vase of long-stemmed roses. It was placed on the table beside the key. I’m getting in deeper, Kristy thought. She weakly thanked the maid who withdrew without comment.
Her inner tension moved up a notch when a second knock came. It heralded another maid who carried in a bottle of champagne and an artistically arranged platter of fruit. Kristy stared at both offerings as though they were deadly poison. Why was she such an honoured guest? What was behind all this?
A third knock brought a third maid bearing gift boxes of eau de toilette and soaps.
It was as good as a birthday, Kristy thought ruefully, except she wasn’t enjoying it. Impossible to shake off the feeling that the gifts were connected to that key. She eyed it balefully. Would it unlock the door to the mystery of why she was here and suddenly being treated like royalty? Maybe she should find out what she could before she became even more entrenched in this weird situation.
She picked up the key.
I’ll take just a little peep, she thought.
It’s none of your business, her mind chided.
Yes, it is, another part responded. I’m already in this up to my neck. I didn’t ask to be involved but I am. I definitely am. And I’ve got every right to find out.
She listened to the other side of her mind in case it wanted to pull her back behind the safe cautious line.
No response.
The argument was perfectly sound.
After all, the manager had left the decision in her hands, and she wasn’t doing anything wrong. She did have every reason to take a little peek into the room beyond that door. She had been invited to unlock it at will.
Her fingers closed tightly around the key as her legs moved forward. Determinedly ignoring the burning feeling in her palm and the apprehensive hammering of her heart, Kristy reached the door, fitted the key to the lock and turned it with a swift decisive twist. Then taking a deep breath to calm her leaping nerves, and telling herself she was acting positively and purposefully, she opened the door.
She half-expected some monster to be on the other side but there was no reaction to the door’s opening. No sound. No movement. Nothing. Taking courage at finding no repercussions to her initial trespass, Kristy pushed the door fully ajar. It revealed another sitting room, similar to hers.
She stood motionless for several seconds, listening intently. Still no sounds of occupation. No signs of occupation, either. She took the first step over the threshold. The need to find some answer to this extra accommodation urged her on.
The click of a key in a lock made her freeze halfway across the room. She stared in horror at the door which gave access to the corridor outside. Her throat constricted, her heart thumped in wild apprehension as the door opened. Her eyes widened in shock as she instantly identified the man who stepped inside.
It was the man from the lobby, the man who’d transfixed her with his knowing eyes, the elegant aristocratic man who had inelegantly broken up the romantic interlude with his companion, creating un scandale terrible!
Kristy’s mind dazedly registered the fact that he did not look shocked at seeing her. He actually smiled at her, but it was not the brilliant smile of pleasure that had lit his face for his companion in the lobby. It was a cold cynical curl of his lips, a knowing little smile. Whatever knowledge was behind it gave him no pleasure at all.
He shut the door without a word, without a crack in his composure. Everything in his manner projected he had anticipated her being here.
Yet how could he?
And what could he know about her?
A sense of weird unreality gripped Kristy, holding her in tense waiting for what would come next.
CHAPTER THREE
“SO!”
It was a sibilant hiss that seethed with explosive emotion. Kristy instantly realised his composure was a facade, and it was not only his voice that revealed how brittle the façade was. The dark eyes were not dancing with amusement. They glittered with a primitive ferocity...anger, pain, blistering accusation.
“What do you have to say for yourself?” he demanded, repitching his voice to a tone of sardonic mockery that didn’t quite disguise an undercurrent of barely leashed savagery.
It was a beautiful voice, rich and male and mesmerisingly coloured by the emotion it projected. Kristy had to shake herself out of her appreciation of it, focus on what was being demanded.
He probably thinks I’m some kind of thief, she thought, and frantically searched her mind for the best way to explain her presence. An attempt at appeasement came up as top priority.
“Je regrette . . .” she began tentatively, but got no further.
“You’re sorry?” Incredulity resonated around the room. The dark eyes swept her with scathing contempt. “You’re sony,” he repeated jeeringly. He tilted his head back and rolled his eyes at the ceiling. “Bon Dieu! You have a thousand things to explain and all you can say is you’re sorry.” His derisive laugh had an element of wildness that sent chills down Kristy’s spine.
She darted a look at the interconnecting door, measuring her line of retreat.
“Oh, no, my precious darling!”
The endearment held no affection whatsoever. The tone of venomous purpose whipped Kristy’s gaze back to him. He was moving swiftly to cut off her escape route and the aura of violence he emanated was quite enough to hold Kristy absolutely still. She didn’t want to provoke him any more than he was already provoked by her presence here.
“You will not leave until I’m satisfied you have explained...everything...to me,” he promised her, a threat underlining every word.
Kristy swallowed hard. Her whole body seemed to be vibrating with electric tension and it was difficult to make her mouth work. But speak she must. “It’s very simple really,” she began.
It seemed to provoke the man even more. “Simple!” he interjected, his eyes blazing dark fury. He moved closer to tower over her. “Two years! Two long lonely bitter years! And all you can say is you’re sorry? And it’s simple?” His voice literally shook with outrage.
Kristy’s mind whirled with confusion. What did two years have to do with anything? “I don’t know what you want to know,” she rushed out in the hope of getting some direction from him since he didn’t like anything she said.
At least it had a calming effect, Kristy thought with relief. The blaze of fury banked down to a simmer which still looked dangerous but was temporarily under control. Then he smiled at her. Somehow the smile was as chilling as his derisive laugh had been. It spelled disaster if she put a foot wrong.
“Did you come here in the hope of hearing words of love from me?” he asked in a soft jeering tone.
“Certainly not,” Kristy replied incredulously. The idea was absurd. Why would she expect to hear endearments from a stranger?
One black eyebrow rose in mocking challenge. “To tell me that you love me?”
Kristy could hardly believe she was hearing this. She didn’t know the man. What kind of woman did he think she was? A boldly enterprising callgirl on the make, slipping into his room to set up a chance?
“That’s ridiculous!” she protested.
He laughed. “How true!” The dark eyes burned more intensely into hers and his voice lowered to a