Dishonored (39 page)

“Good!” Oliver growled. He turned down the street. “Come on.”

“Right!” Indi growled back. “I’m coming!” And two paces behind, she followed him down the street until they found an empty
motor rickshaw and took it back to the hotel.

They were both in a foul mood as they stood at the reception desk in the Lake Palace and watched the clerk telephone the eighth
hotel on his list for a reservation. It was summer; Baijur had had an enormous tourism drive across Europe and was now twenty
percent overbooked. There was nothing to be had, either in the top range or the middle range of hotels and Oliver point-blank
refused the bottom range; he didn’t want to go back to Delhi with flea bites.

“I am most sorry, sir, but I am not getting any luck with a room for you.”

Oliver sighed. This was all he needed, a perfect end to a perfect day! “Nothing?”

“No, sir, there is nothing available.”

He glanced across at Indi who stood with her back to him, staring out at the water in the fading light. “And you have nothing
here?”

The clerk looked at his computer sheet again. He ran his pen down it, shaking his head as he did so. “No rooms at all, sir,
I am most sorry.”

Oliver leaned in to the desk and glanced at the list. “Is there anything at all? We’ll take anything.”

The clerk went to another list. He looked for several minutes, then suddenly he glanced up. “Ah! I am finding one thing at
least, sir!” He smiled. “I have the royal suite that is empty for a few days, sir.”

Oliver swallowed. “The royal suite?” His voice came out a little higher than usual.

“Oh yes, it is very, very good, sir, a very good room. I can highly recommend it. Oh yes!”

Indi turned. “They have a room?” The relief on her face was apparent.

“Yes, the, erm, royal suite,” Oliver answered.

She looked at the clerk. “We’ll take it,” she said.

“But it’s hugely expensive,” Oliver hissed.

“Then I’ll pay for it!” Indi hissed back. “For God’s sake! It’s all there is!”

Oliver looked up at the clerk. “Thank you, we will take it,” he said. “If someone could show us to the room now?”

“Oh yes, sir, yes indeed!” The desk clerk clicked for the boy and beamed at them. They had gone up in his estimation, they
were people to be considered now. “Please, the boy will show you up now.”

Oliver and Indi both moved off at the same time and collided, knocking into each other and springing apart immediately. But
they didn’t apologize to one another, they simply separated, ignored it and went after the boy in relieved and angry silence,

It was midnight when Oliver woke up. He glanced at the luminous dial on his watch, saw the time and rolled on to his side
to get back to sleep again. He pulled the sheet in and glanced across at Indi on the other side of the huge king-size bed,
a bolster between them, her side of the bed rumpled and chaotic, the sheets all over the place and one long brown leg kicked
out, naked up to the very top of her thigh. He squeezed his eyes shut and sighed, wondering what the hell he was doing here.

“Are you awake, Captain Hicks?”

He opened them again. “Yes.” He had cooled off, he didn’t want to go on with the tense silence. “It’s Oliver,” he said, “not
Captain Hicks.”

“Right, Oliver.” Indi rolled over to face him. “What did you mean about my grandfather, Oliver? Earlier? You said if it wasn’t
for—”

“I know what I said,” Oliver interrupted. “I’m in the Ninth Cavalry Division, Brigadier Bennet is…” He broke off. “He’s
a kind of regimental hero, everyone knows about him, he’s highly respected. And, when you said his name, I kind of…”
He stopped again, then he smiled at himself. “This sounds stupid,” he said, “but I kind of wanted to do something to help,
to impress him, I guess.”

Indi smiled back. “No, it’s not stupid.” She reached out and touched him on the arm. “Thank you,” she said.

Oliver looked down at her hand. She had long elegant fingers and oval nails, cut short, unvarnished. “That’s all right, Miss
Bennet,” he replied. He rolled over, away from her.

“It’s Indi,” she said quietly, “not Miss Bennet”

“Good night then, Indi,” Oliver whispered.

“Good night,” she answered. “Sleep well.”

But Oliver didn’t sleep. He lay in the dark and listened to the sound of Indi’s breathing, light, so quiet he almost couldn’t
hear it, and he wondered again and again what he was doing here. Indi Bennet was like no one he had ever met before and she
scared the living daylights out of him. She had riled him, infuriated him, aroused him and now charmed him, all in ten hours.
She was wonderful, exotic, strong, sensuous, but she was dangerous. And Oliver Hicks didn’t need dangerous, he didn’t need
dangerous in any shape or form.

T
HE FOLLOWING MORNING, WHILE
O
LIVER FINISHED BREAKFAST
and Indi showered, the call came through to their suite. He had left a message with the bank, as soon as it opened,
that if the banker’s draft cleared they were to call the hotel right away. It was ten-fifteen and he took the message with
a mixture of relief and disappointment. The money had arrived, Indi could stay on for as long as she liked and he was no longer
needed. He rang the airport and the station. There were no flights but he could get a train out at midday, so he began to
pack his small rucksack and check he had all the details on the forms. Indi came out of the bathroom.

“Oliver? What’s happened?” She was wearing a white toweling bathrobe, belted in tight around her small waist, and her hair
was wet. Oliver thought she was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen and he flushed, then looked away.

“The bank rang,” he answered, stuffing his sweater into his bag. “The money’s through, and I called the station. There’s a
train back to Delhi at midday which I will be on.”

“I see.” Indi rubbed her hair with a towel, then sat on the bed. “How long d’you think it’ll be before my documents come through?”

“Not long, a few days, possibly a week.” Oliver clipped the top of his rucksack down and slung it on the bed. “I might as
well head off now,” he said. “Get on with it!”

Indi shrugged; she wasn’t sure if she wanted him to go. She watched him put the files into his briefcase then suddenly said,
“If you don’t mind waiting for five minutes, I could come into the city with you and see you off.” She knelt and pulled a
shirt out of her bag. “I have to pick my money up anyway.”

“OK.” Oliver didn’t quite know how to react. “I’d, erm, like that. Thanks.”

Indi stood with her clean clothes in her hand. “I won’t be a minute.” She headed back toward the bathroom. “Don’t go away!”

Oliver laughed a little too readily and sat down on the edge of the bed. He looked at his hands, out at the view, then back
at his hands again. He wanted to get going, to be off out of Baijur and away from Indi Bennet before he had a chance to think
about it. He didn’t want to be any more involved then he already was—Indi was too attractive and far too complicated to hang
around with. Minutes later she appeared in the doorway.

“OK, I’m ready!” She had literally pulled a shirt and skirt on, tied her sandals and flicked her fingers through her wet hair.
She looked fresh and natural and deadly sexy.

Oliver cleared his throat and stood, heaving his rucksack on to his shoulder. “Right,” he said gruffly, “let’s go!” He walked
toward the door and waited while Indi collected up her things and slung them into her own rucksack. She joined him and they
walked out of the suite, along the passage and down to reception.

“Excuse me. Miss Bennet? Madam, please, excuse me.

Indi glanced behind her. “Oh, yes?”

The boy stood with a slip of paper in his hand. “Please, for Miss Bennet, a message.” He handed it to her. “Please.”

Indi dug in her bag and gave the boy a tip, then she opened the message, read it and glanced across at Oliver. “I’ve got a
call coming through,” she said. “Probably from Gramps.” She shrugged. “I’d better go back and wait for it.”

Oliver nodded. “I should get going,” he said, “I don’t want to miss my train.”

“No.” Indi looked away for a few moments, then said, “What about the money you lent me?”

“You can post it on, or drop it in to the High Commission on your way back through Delhi.”

“OK.”

They stood awkwardly for a few moments.

“Right,” Oliver said.

“Yes, erm, right.” Indi held out her hand and they shook. “Thank you, Captain Hicks.” She smiled. “I’d, erm, better get back
for my…” she glanced behind her. “For my call.”

“Yes, yes you had.” Oliver smiled as well. “Goodbye, Indi. It was nice to meet you.”

“Yes, and it was nice to meet you.”

They continued to stand there, looking at each other.

“Bye then.” Indi took a step back.

“Yes, bye.” Oliver stayed where he was. If it had been any other woman he might have kissed her, but with Indi he didn’t want
even to attempt it. God knows where it would end up. He watched her as she held up her hand to wave.

“Bye!” she called again.

“Goodbye!”

Finally, she disappeared down the passage and Oliver turned toward the hotel entrance and the boat waiting on the jetty. He
walked out into the brilliant sunlight and nodded to the boat man.

“Five minutes to wait please, sir,” the boatman said. “Other passengers are coming.”

“OK. Fine.” Oliver dropped his rucksack on to the ground and sat down on it. He looked out across the water and saw the city
of Baijur up ahead, hazy in the distant heat. Well, at least he’d seen Baijur, he thought, the last state in India to have
had a maharajah, and he’d sorted Brigadier Bennet’s granddaughter out. He felt a bit miserable though, despite the success
of the trip. Truth was, he didn’t really want to leave.

Indi walked back toward the suite and saw the door ajar. The cleaners must be in, she thought, dropping her rucksack off her
shoulder and holding on to it. She swung the door wide open and walked across to the telephone, dropping her bag down on the
sofa and calling out. She turned toward the bedroom and that was when the blow hit her. It came from behind.

She went down. Her legs buckled and she fell forward, clutching for the sofa and clasping it with both hands. She gasped for
breath and managed to heave herself up, lunging for her bag at the same time as the man did. They struggled with it and, swinging
around, half crouched, Indi smacked her head hard into the man’s pelvis. She heard a cry and brought her fist up again into
his crotch, punching it as hard as she could. He fell back and she screamed, scrambling to her feet, gripping her bag. She
ran, breathless, her legs weak, she sprinted out of the suite, down the passage and through the hotel reception.

“Oliver!” she screamed, darting past a small crowd on to the boat jetty. “Oliver!” Her legs gave way and she collapsed on
to her knees. “Oliver!”

The boat was fifty feet from the jetty when he heard her. He spun around, shouted to the boatman and stood, muttering apologies
to the other two passengers. “Indi, hang on!” he yelled across the noise of the engine. “Hang on there, I’m coming!” He saw
her drop forward and his stomach lurched. “Hurry up!” he called across to the boatman. “Can’t this bloody thing go any faster?”

Minutes later they were back at the jetty. He jumped off the boat as it pulled alongside and ran across to her, dropping down
beside her and pulling her into his arms. “God, what happened? Indi, what happened?”

She wasn’t crying but she was shocked, her face was ashen and she was shaking. “A man, in the suite, he hit me…” She
put her hand up to the back of her neck and Oliver gently lifted her hair. “Christ! Let’s get you back inside, we’ll need
to get that seen.” He helped her to her feet and, with his arm around her, walked her inside and across to one of the chairs
in reception.

“Here, sit here and I’ll get the desk to call a doctor.”

“No.” She looked up at him. “It’s all right, I’ve felt it, it doesn’t need stitches. It’s all right.”

“How would you know? I’ll get a doctor, Indi, don’t argue.”

She reached for his arm. “I am a doctor,” she said. “Well, half a one at least.”

“You are?” He realized that he didn’t know the first thing about her.

“Yes.” She smiled at the look on his face. “You had me down as a silly young thing, didn’t you?”

“No! Of course not, I…” He sat down next to her. “I didn’t know what to make of you to be honest. I still don’t.”

They both smiled.

“Look, can I get you anything? A drink maybe?”

“No, but I could do with some ice.” She touched the back of her neck. “For this.”

Oliver held his hand up to attract the boy’s attention. “D’you want to tell me what happened?” He ordered tea for them both
and a bucket of ice. As the boy disappeared, he said, “You should report this to the manager, you know, Indi. It could have
been very nasty, you were lucky. I wonder if he’s tried it on anyone else?” Indi looked down at her hands. “It’s not unusual
for tourists to get ripped off when they’re abroad,” he went on, “particularly not in India but you don’t expect it in your
hotel room! We’ll definitely have to say something to the management and the police need to be informed. Did you get a look
at him, Indi? I suppose it was a bit quick but you…” He stopped. “Indi? Are you all right?” The boy arrived with the
drinks and ice and interrupted him. Oliver organized the tea, wrapped the ice in a napkin and handed it to Indi for her neck.
He signed, waited for the boy to leave, then said, “Is there something you’re not telling me? Why do I get the feeling that
there’s something wrong here?”

Indi said nothing. She held the ice on her neck and stayed silent; she didn’t know what to say.

“Indi? It’s not connected to this Jimmy Stone thing in any way, is it? You don’t think he might have…”

“No, I mean it might be… Oh! I really don’t know what’s going on!” She dropped the ice bag onto the coffee table. “I
went into the room to take my call, Oliver, and someone hit me from behind. They tried to grab my bag but I managed to hold
on to it and smack them hard in the goolies!” Indi stopped. “What’s so funny?” she demanded.