Counterfeit Love (8 page)

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Authors: Julie Fison

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BOOK: Counterfeit Love
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‘Amazing,’ she heard him whisper.

She turned to see Byron’s face bathed in the pink-and-blue light from the nearby Hongkong and Shanghai Bank building – a glow that made him look like he’d stepped out of the future, quite breathtakingly gorgeous.

‘A great view, isn’t it?’ Her nerves were completely forgotten.

‘The view’s pretty good, but
you
look amazing,’ Byron smiled. ‘That dress.
Holy hell
.’

Lucy blushed. Her attire was the result of an hour of deliberation. And, after trying on almost everything she owned, she had ended up borrowing a dress from Charlotte, which had taken some doing. Charlotte wasn’t in the best of moods after she’d had to call Versace and cancel the dress. Her flatmate had been subjected to an earful from Durban, too. Lucy knew Charlotte wasn’t used to that. She was accustomed to making things happen, not generating disappointment.

‘Just something I threw on,’ Lucy lied. ‘You don’t scrub up so bad yourself. Look at you – straight out of a Burberry catalogue.’

Byron laughed. ‘You think this shirt’s okay?’

Lucy nodded. The shirt was great, but it was everything that was going on around it that Lucy liked – the thick floppy hair and dreamy eyes, the perfect skin, the lovely lips. Byron had very, very kissable lips. And then she realised she was staring at them.

‘So! We should find somewhere to sit.’ She felt her cheeks flush as she eyed an empty seat and pounced on it. Byron slipped in beside her. ‘The cocktails are meant to be good here,’ Lucy said, picking up a menu and reviewing the options. ‘Mmm, I like the sound of this one – mango, passionfruit, lime and dark rum.’ Then Lucy noticed the price. ‘But an ice water would be fine, too. Are these prices in Vietnamese dong or Hong Kong dollars?’

Byron called over a waiter. ‘Two High Altitudes, please.’

The waiter nodded and then disappeared.

‘So,’ Lucy began, ‘are you going to tell me a bit more about yourself?’

Byron raised his eyebrows and started fidgeting with his menu. ‘Why do you want to know about me? You’re the TV star here.’

‘Hardly,’ Lucy laughed. But she couldn’t help feeling flattered that he thought she was. It was a big change from his reaction at Rusty’s. ‘I’m not even on camera. Not exactly a star.’

‘So, how do you like TVi?’

Lucy shrugged. ‘Great. Most of the time.’

She went through a typical day in the newsroom – dashing out reports for the hourly news bulletins, then lining up guests for the business shows, if she had any spare time. When she escaped the office it was mostly to cover news conferences, corporate results, treasury briefings – that kind of thing.

‘It’s crazy busy most of the time – but a lot of fun.’ Lucy paused, realising that Byron had distracted her from her mission to find out more about him.
He’s so full of questions, he’d actually make a good reporter
, she thought.

‘So, back to you,’ she smiled playfully. ‘You know, I don’t even know your last name. Or is your work so sensitive that you can’t even tell me that?’

Byron smiled thinly. ‘Of course not. I didn’t realise I was being so secretive.’

He put out his hand as if to shake Lucy’s, but when she extended her hand Byron held it. ‘Byron Lloyd, so pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Yang.’ He hammed up his American accent.

‘The pleasure is all mine, Mr Lloyd,’ Lucy replied, in her best Southern drawl. She laughed at how silly she sounded, until Byron lifted her hand to his face and then gently pressed his lips to her skin.

‘Indeed, the pleasure is all mine,’ Byron whispered, his accent returning to a soft American lilt.

Lucy felt her pulse racing as Byron slowly raised his eyes to meet hers. For a moment they just stared at each other. Lucy’s hand was still in Byron’s. It was like a circuit had been completed, and to move might interrupt the electricity that was pulsing between them. Lucy couldn’t take her eyes off his, and she couldn’t get her mind off his kiss. She could still feel the weight of it on her hand and wondered what it would feel like to have his lips against hers.

‘Two High Altitudes,’ came a voice from beside Lucy, breaking the spell.

Byron gently released Lucy’s hand and nodded to the waiter as he placed two drinks on the table in front of them.

‘Here’s to
your
career.’ Byron raised his glass to Lucy.

‘I’ll drink to that.’ She smiled, but she was still feeling disoriented by what had just happened between them. She wondered what might have followed if the waiter hadn’t interrupted them.

Lucy took a few sips of her cocktail. It went down very smoothly – too smoothly, in fact. She reminded herself that she needed to pace herself. She was already feeling a little light-headed from Byron’s old-fashioned introduction.

‘So, where were we?’ Lucy tried to compose herself. ‘I think you were about to tell me a bit more about yourself. Where does your dirt-digging take you?’

Byron studied the skyline for a bit before he answered. ‘I’m digging up dirt all over the place really. Around China, Malaysia … and I’ve recently been in Mongolia.’

‘Mongolia, how funny,’ Lucy said. ‘I was just reading about a mining executive there.’

‘Arrested for selling state secrets?’ Byron nodded. ‘I know the story.’

‘Did you know him?’ Lucy asked, hoping Byron might be able to offer some juicy morsel that she might use for a story of her own.

Byron shook his head. ‘No, but what did you think of the story – on
Under the Wire
, wasn’t it?’

‘Great story. M.T. Lai must have some amazing contacts. Man, he breaks some biggies. I’m jealous.’

‘You think he’s that good?’

‘You don’t?’

Byron shrugged. ‘Just interested in your perspective – as a professional.’

‘I’d say he’s one of the best investigative journalists in China – I would love to meet him some time.’

Byron chuckled.

‘What – you think I’m weird, being a groupie of another journalist? It’s not that unusual.’ Lucy shrugged. ‘But who knows, I might be disappointed if I met him. He might be a quiet mousy type.’

Byron laughed. ‘Or he could be old and wrinkly, with long hairs coming out of the moles on his chin.’

‘Don’t, please.’ Lucy squirmed.

‘Just joking.’ Byron sipped his cocktail. ‘He’s probably a very handsome guy and he’s not a bad journalist. Anyway, enough about him. How was your day? You weren’t working?’

Lucy groaned. ‘I should have been. It would have spared me a pretty awful junk trip.’

‘Oh, trapped, were you?’ Byron asked.

‘Terrible afternoon.’

‘I’m sorry I wasn’t there to help you out.’

Lucy laughed. ‘I wish you had been. I’ll get Charlotte to ask you along next time.’

Byron smiled. ‘That sounds pretty cool. I haven’t been out on a boat for ages. Probably not since I was in Thailand last year. There are some pretty sweet places that you can only get to by boat there.’

Lucy nodded. ‘I’m sure there are.’

‘I should show you some time. We’ve got a boat that hardly ever gets used.’

Lucy laughed. She assumed he was joking. They were on their first date – he was hardly going to be inviting her for a boating holiday in Thailand. But Byron didn’t laugh; he didn’t even smile. He was serious again. ‘I’ve got a massive thing on the go right now. But when I’m through, maybe we should go – to Phuket. Take the boat out from there.’

‘Sure,’ Lucy managed, still a bit startled. The islands around Phuket were meant to be paradise – palm-lined white beaches, towering limestone cliffs and fantastic snorkelling. ‘Cool. That’d be really amazing.’

Lucy raised her glass. There was just enough of her drink left to make a toast. ‘Here’s to your work, then. And a speedy conclusion.’

‘Another drink?’ Byron asked after they had toasted.

‘Not for me. I’m feeling a bit light-headed from that one. How about we find somewhere to eat?’

Byron nodded and got to his feet. ‘You’ve got somewhere in mind?’

Lucy thought for a bit. It was impossible to choose a restaurant in Hong Kong – there were just too many options. It made more sense to go for a walk first and decide on dinner later.

Byron guided Lucy out of the bar, gently putting his hand in the curve of her back as they negotiated the crowd. He let it fall when they reached the lifts. Lucy glanced at his reflection as they descended to the ground floor, watching him roll onto his toes and run his fingers through his hair. He looked nervous. She wondered if she’d said something to worry him.

Lucy edged towards him, waited until he’d dropped his hand from his hair, then stretched out her fingers so they brushed gently against his. As the backs of their fingers touched, she could see Byron’s expression change. His eyebrows lifted slightly, then his face relaxed, his shoulders loosened, and the fidgeting stopped. He smiled at Lucy and gently slipped his hand into hers. Lucy felt her body relax too as they left the lift and walked towards the Star Ferry for the trip across the harbour. She had never been a hand holder, but with Byron, it just felt right.

‘I’m really glad I met you,’ Byron said when they reached the other side of the harbour. They walked along the Kowloon waterfront still hand in hand, like pretty much everyone else around them. ‘I didn’t have much of an opinion of TV reporters before I met you.’

‘What have you got against reporters?’ Lucy asked as they stepped around a tourist setting up a camera and tripod. ‘A bad experience?’ She stopped to wait for an answer, but Byron seemed not to hear the question. He was gazing at Lucy.

‘Byron? Why don’t you like … ’ Lucy began, but she trailed off. Her question seemed to have lost its importance. It hardly mattered what Byron thought of TV reporters generally, because she could see in his face what he thought of the one in front of him. Byron was looking at her with such intensity that the lights on Hong Kong Island were swimming in and out of focus. He dropped Lucy’s hand and edged closer. That feeling of tension gripped her chest and her mind hummed with excited, nervous anticipation.

‘Were you looking for me last night at Rusty’s?’ she whispered.

Byron nodded. ‘I’ve been searching for you all my life.’

And that was where the interview ended. Lucy had so many more questions for Byron, but none of them seemed to matter anymore. He answered them all as his lips touched hers and, as a laser show lit up the skyline, Lucy decided that so much more could be said without words.

Byron was as surprised as anyone to find himself kissing Lucy on the waterfront. He’d been thinking about it since he saw her arrive at Vue, turning heads as she walked onto the terrace – all slim arms and toned legs, with that TV-ready face. She might have been a reporter, but she was no squawking parrot; more of a bird of paradise in her tight-fitting black-and-orange dress. She almost eclipsed the whole city around her.
Right out of my league
, he thought. Yet, here they were, caught up in the moment, their bodies pressed together, his arms around her slender back. What had he done to deserve this?

‘I wasn’t expecting that,’ Lucy whispered breathlessly, holding his gaze. They stared at each other for several seconds longer; he was desperate to kiss her again.

‘Sorry, I shouldn’t have … ’ he managed.

Lucy shook her head. ‘No need to be.’ She glanced at him awkwardly. ‘Should we find a restaurant?’

He nodded even though he really didn’t care about dinner anymore – all he cared about was kissing Lucy again. He slipped his hand around hers as they walked off towards Nathan Road. Every time he caught his reflection in a shop window, Byron was shocked to see such a stunning woman beside him. He wondered if the cocktail had something to do with it – if the High Altitude contained some kind of aphrodisiac, extract of bull elephant’s gland, or unicorn’s testicle or something. It might explain things.

Of course, it would have been less complicated if it hadn’t worked out that way – if she hadn’t been so damn hot, he might have just asked her straight up to return the contents of the envelope. But even before the cocktails arrived he knew he wouldn’t let that happen. Lucy was the complete package: as dynamic as she was hot, someone who knew where she was going and how to get there. He bet she’d be presenting the news before the end of the year. It was actually a bit scary, and even more of a threat than he first thought. She definitely wouldn’t let go of the package if she got a whiff of a story.

Byron was surprised he’d kissed her hand five seconds after they’d sat down.
That was a weird thing to do
. And even more shocked that he’d invited her to Phuket.
Where did that come from?
Somewhere below his waist, he guessed. He’d been listening to Lucy’s junk story and imagined her in a bikini. From there it was just a short step to Thailand and a holiday together. If he got everything sorted out in the next week he might actually be able to come good on his offer. He definitely needed a break – he hadn’t been on a proper beach in way too long.

But as they strolled down Nathan Road, Byron could see that the likelihood of him retrieving the Cobra’s stuff and sorting things out was diminishing, not improving. Earlier that night, Cal had told him to do anything to the get the Cobra’s shirt. To go through Lucy’s bag, take her keys, search her apartment. He was meant to even go through the rubbish if he had to.

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