Charm. Flora Dain

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       CHAPTER TWO

      When I start round the pool the first thing I find out about getting close to Mr high-and-mighty Darnley Wolfe is that nobody gets close. I thread my way through the crowded sun-loungers, past tables humming with easy chatter and bright with designer linens, but when I reach the ring of empty tables that surrounds him a security guard with a face like a cliff bars my way.

      Irritated, I turn away. Instantly another guard bars my way, this time with double-cleft chins. Unsettled now, my temper rising, I glance back over my shoulder to see a silent signal has been given, a path mysteriously cleared and Cliff Face is now waving me through. A long cool drink is being set for me at a new place at Darnley Wolfe’s hallowed table. As I approach the waitress gives me a frightened nod and scuttles away.

      As far as I can tell Darnley Wolfe has remained perfectly still throughout. His signals must be telepathic. I perch on the seat facing him and quietly start to panic.

      He’ll have forgotten me. It’s been a long time.

      Maybe he was dozing behind his shades and not looking at me at all …

      ‘Ella. It’s been a while.’

      He remembers. He even knows my name. Shock slams me on autopilot and I smile politely. ‘Darnley.’

      It’s the first time I’ve ever said his name out loud. A faint tremor goes through me like I’m bringing something to life. Miss Normal from New England notes that he stays seated to greet me but finally takes off his shades – the politeness of millionaires.

      As he does so I almost wish he’d left them on. His look is hard and cold. Any fleeting hope that something remains of our wonderful night together instantly fades. Now I must face this stunning, powerful man knowing his heart is closed. Our brief moments of passion no longer offer any way in.

       And he’s still watching me.

      Curious now, I open my mouth to ask him why he’s here just as his low, stirring voice cuts in with the same question. As I blurt out an answer I forget my question. ‘Ryan – that’s my ex – asked me to meet him here. He wants to talk to me about something. He said it was urgent.’

      Darnley’s brow lifts. ‘He’s here now?’

      I shrug. I long ago lost interest in Ryan’s movements. ‘Apparently not. They told me at the desk he’s gone out for the day. Fishing.’

      ‘Fishing?’ His lip twists at the corner.

      With a prickle of unease I remember I never once heard Ryan mention fishing. Why now? ‘That’s what he said. Does it matter?’

      ‘You were involved with him the night we met?’

      Colour glows in my cheeks. So he does remember.

      ‘Yes. But not – that was why – I’d just dumped him.’ I break off, scarlet now, and take a sip of my drink. I’m mad at myself and madder still at the collapse of my plan. What happened to walking right up, saying hi and walking away?

      He’s frowning. ‘So you two are – what? Getting back together?’

      ‘He just wanted to meet me. I was touring anyway. I broke it off for a few days to fly down here.’ I tail off and frown, puzzled. ‘Why? Is there a problem?’

      He leans back, his eyes narrow. He casually ignores my question. ‘So where is he?’

      I summon my patience. ‘I told you, I don’t know. Why’s it so important? Should I call the police?’ Now I’m uneasy. I’m glad to be free of Ryan but I wish him no harm.

      Darnley replaces his shades and rises to his feet with feline grace. ‘Let’s hope it won’t come to that. Perhaps you’ll both join me for dinner. Say we meet around eight, in the President Bar? If he’s late we’ll save him a place.’

      He glances at his watch, hinting he’s got better things to do and dismissing any lingering notion that I feature anywhere on his map. Like it’s an afterthought, he holds out his hand and I touch it lightly, feeling a tingle from his fingers, and then he turns and strolls away.

      Miss Normal’s mission lies in ruins. His spell’s as strong as ever.

      * * *

      The President Bar looks like a movie set, all smiling guests, hushed chatter and the clatter and chink of glasses. It’s warm here and there’s a mix of evening dress and poolside chic but the general feeling is formal. The guests look well heeled and have a kind of generous ease about them. It’s not just from crossing into a new time zone. I’m in new country here, warm with broad smiles, real suntans and vigorous handshakes. All around me easy Southern drawls reflect warmer climes and make me feel very prim and New Englandish.

      After the shake-up of my encounter with Darnley this afternoon I’m now fully restored. A refreshing shower and an hour’s pampering in my room worked wonders. Afterwards I tried to call Ryan but he was still not answering so to pass the time I worked down my call-list. My parents are still on a cruise, one of my friends is off on a date and too hyper to talk any sense, and two more are trekking in the Yosemite and have a poor signal, so I gave up.

      On the way down I asked again at Reception but Ryan’s still not back.

      At last I make it to the bar. As I take a look around I take a deep breath, smile and make a conscious effort to relax. I’m on holiday after all and this is an adventure for me. I’ve never been this far west.

      The bar’s larger than I expected. It’s more a reception area for a selection of restaurants. Tall windows open onto the palm-fringed terrace around the pool, letting in warm, scented night air from the Texas heartlands. To me it’s as exotic as the South Seas.

      As I weave my way through the tables I feel a flare of excitement. My short silk dress in a plain bright colour fits well and feels good. The matching heels I stuffed in my case at the last minute make me feel tall and graceful. I’m no great hairdresser but my hair’s out on parole from its daytime ponytail and piled up loosely on my head, stray СКАЧАТЬ