Hong Kong Heat (5 page)

He’d prefer to work on the other puzzle. Who was his mystery lady? Even thinking of her stirred his cock.

Down, boy, not the time or the place.
He adjusted his dick under his trousers and, satisfied he didn’t look like a randy schoolboy, or an overexcited youth, he left the room.

The trio due to play in the residents’ lounge were a popular act and Braam knew a fair few people would go to listen and have a drink or a snack. He checked everything was okay in the kitchen, snagged a chicken dumpling and a prawn kebab, before filling a mug inscribed ‘Boss’s Boss, Beware’ with coffee you could stand your spoon up in and retiring to his office to check his emails.

Then he headed for the lounge and set about the rounds of chatting to the guests and making sure the hotel staff were doing everything they could to ensure a happy stay. As he bent his head to listen to a soft-voiced lady tell him how much she was enjoying her visit, a flash of a deep reddish orange caught his eye and his heart jumped.

It was her. Braam had no idea how he kept his voice level as he spoke to the guest and agreed that the trio were indeed a credit to the hotel. He managed to stay for several more minutes before he was able to draw the conversation to a close and walk across to where his lady sat with her laptop open and a glass of wine on the table next to her.

“Hi, Mystery Lady. Do I get a name yet?”

She looked up at him and the glints of silver in her hazel eyes were more pronounced than he’d observed before.

“You told me you had a name. Braam, I believe?” He was impressed she’d remembered to elongate the ‘a’.

“Clever.” Braam acknowledged her wit. “So may I have the privilege of knowing your name?”

“Hmm.” She looked at him and a flicker of what looked like, but surely couldn’t be, desire crossed her face. “My name is Deb,” she said at last.

“Hello, Deb.” He held his hand out. She took it and he felt a tremor run through her.
Not unaffected then. That’s good.
“I’m Abraham Van Meister. Braam to my friends. I’ve been helping out whilst the new manager gets settled.”

“That’s good of you.” She took a sip of wine. “Nice wine.”

“It is, isn’t it?” Braam agreed, not sure if he meant her support of his help or the excellence of the wine. “So are you on holiday or business, Miss? Mrs.? Ms.?”

Cutting to the chase?
Debra studied him over the rim of the glass. “The end of a holiday.” She sipped her wine and watched his hands clench in frustration at her lack of proffered information.

“My status? Take your pick, I don’t do labels. I’m on holiday. I go back to the real world next week.” What made her say that? Did she honestly think this was all too surreal to have any meaning? Deb examined her mind. She hoped not. She smiled. “I wish I could stay longer, I haven’t been here for years and I love it.”

He grinned and the skin at the corner of his eyes crinkled. “Such interesting people you meet, eh?” The wink he gave was wicked. “And such a lot to do, that maybe you wouldn’t get to do elsewhere.”

The sod. Now he’s playing with me. Two can play that game, mate.

“You reckon? There was me thinking to some people it was fair play and all that. So Mr. Van Meister, tell me, what can I get here I won’t get elsewhere?”

He leaned toward her so no one else would be able to hear. Though as the trio were playing and Debra had the table to herself, it was unlikely anyone would.

“Me.” He stood up and walked to the next table. Deb sat, open-mouthed and trying not to laugh. He definitely had the last word there.

She looked at her open laptop and pressed a few random keys. Definitely deep-seated thoughts to the fore. She’d typed ‘sex on legs’.

Oh for heaven’s sake
. Debra deleted it and pondered what to type for her diary entry of the day. It was hard when all she could think of was Abraham—Braam—and how he’d flirted with her. It had been flirting, hadn’t it? Surely she wasn’t so out of touch she didn’t recognize a come-on when it was staring her in the face? She watched him chat to the groups of guests dotted around the room and understood there was a method in his movement. He was working his way back toward her.

Stay or go?

No contest, stay and see what happens.
She wrote a chatty email to a friend she’d met in Australia and a business one to update a debit card, whilst checking where Braam was. Once she lost track of him and the lump of disappointment threatened to choke her. Then he reappeared next to the trio and Debra let her breath out in a probably much too noisy sigh.

The trio picked up their instruments and a soft melody filled the air. She had to bite her lip. They were playing ‘Lady in Red’.

“So, are you my lady in red?” Braam sat down beside her and closed her laptop, before he took her hand to play with her fingers.

This close his cologne teased Debra again and she fought not to lean into him and inhale. His own scent added to the heady mix that called to her inner self. It was as well they were in public. Debra acknowledged she was in trouble. Deep, sexual ‘I want to know him more and well
more’
trouble.

“Lady Deb?”

She realized she hadn’t answered him.

“Well I could be. Who knows?” She grinned. “If I am, what are you?”

He picked up her glass and handed it to her. “Your soon to be lover.”

The wink was wicked and she gasped. It was better than moaning and shouting ‘take me now’. Debra had always rolled her eyes when she read things in books where the heroine’s clit clenched or her juices ran down her legs. Never again, now she knew exactly what it felt like and it made her want to jump his bones.

“I have to go and check some stuff,” he said. “Will you meet me on the roof later? Say around eleven thirty? So we can talk. Please?”

His expression was serious, and Debra knew there was simply one answer she could give him.

“Of course I will.”

Chapter Three

He took her wine glass, kissed her hand and replaced the glass.

“Thank you. Until later.”

He stood up and moved toward the door. The silk of his suit rustled slightly and defined his muscles as he walked in an elegant, long legged stride away from Debra. Seriously the man needed locking up. ‘Hot stuff’ definitely described Braam Van Meister.

She made herself stay until the trio finished the song and the next one before she drained her glass and declined another. She wanted a clear head. With that thought fixed in her mind, Debra sent her emails and went back to her room. Curry was no longer on the agenda for dinner. She didn’t want to taste and smell like lamb rogan josh and vegetable masala. Peppermint mouthwash and Estee Lauder ‘Beautiful’ maybe.
After all, I need to have beautiful attached to me somehow.
Deb had long known beautiful wasn’t her. Pretty and attractive was more suited to her.

A rummage through the miniscule fridge discovered a boring, but non smelly green salad she’d forgotten about and that was on its best by date. Deb ate it and the wizened satsumas she’d bypassed earlier. The last thing she wanted was to feel faint from hunger or have her tummy rumble at an important moment.

By twenty past eleven, she was a bundle of nerves. What was she thinking about? Meeting a strange guy, at a place where no one else would be about, in the middle of the night. Her daughter would rightly say she was courting trouble. She could here Lena’s voice in her head.
‘You don’t know him, Mum.’

Well it was true she didn’t, but if she didn’t get to meet him, she’d never know him. Feeling remarkably silly, Deb took out a sheet of paper and a pencil from its holder and scribbled a note.

If I’m not here when you come to service the room, I went to the roof terrace to meet Braam Van Meister at 11.30 p.m.

She added the date. Over the top maybe, but she could destroy it when she got back.

She picked up her room card and handbag and swore.

Her phone was making FaceTime noises. That meant Lena or Kevan and if she didn’t answer, there would be frantic emails and texts until she did. It didn’t seem to matter what time it was, Mum needed to say she was okay. At least it hadn’t rung half an hour later.

She took her phone out of her bag and sat in the bed. As she’d thought, it was Lena. With two small children and a husband in the forces, she was more likely to call at unusual hours. Kevan was somewhat more conventional.

“Hi, Lena, how are you? Everything okay?” Debra risked a quick look at her watch. Five minutes and she needed to be elsewhere. “Do you know what time it is?”

* * * *

Twenty minutes later, she ended the call with the excuse she was tired and needed a pee. She did, but she mentally crossed her legs and left the room at a half run.

Of course the lift took ages to arrive and by the time the doors opened on the roof terrace floor, it was almost five to midnight.

The place felt deserted and after a futile check around, she accepted it was.

Stupid, dammit, why didn’t I make an excuse? Because it was my daughter and she is more important and she needed to talk to me.
Lena had told her that Sean, her husband who was on active service, had been in a sniper attack. Even though he was fine, some of his colleagues had been injured and Lena was of course worried. Naturally she didn’t want to share that worry with him, so Mum had been elected. Any other time Debra wouldn’t have minded, but now? Now she felt cheated, deflated and downright fed up.

She did a circuit of the roof and ended up back at the lift door without seeing a soul. Even the moon wasn’t in a friendly mood and stayed firmly behind a thick bank of clouds.

Debra jabbed the lift button. She could have eaten her curry after all. And had that extra glass of wine. She leaned on the wall and tapped her foot. Maybe it was an omen?

Oh shut up.

The lift made its ‘I’m on my way’ whirring noise and stopped.

The doors open and a disheveled Braam got out. He’d shed his jacket somewhere, his once pristine white shirt had a smear of what looked like blood on and there was a rip across the shoulder seam. His eye was puffy and dried blood congealed on his cheek. He looked like he’d gone half a round with a champion boxer and lost.

His head was bowed and he stepped out of the lift with weariness in every move he made.

“Braam?”

He lifted his head.

“Deb? You waited?” The look of tiredness vanished from his stance and he straightened. “Thank God.”

“Yes, well. You been refereeing a stramash?”

He looked bewildered. “I don’t know, have I? I’ve been helping the guys on the door. Some assholes thought they needed target practice and chose Howard and Andrew. I helped the idiots to realize the error of their ways. The trouble was they took a bit of persuading.” He touched his right eye gingerly. “Is it black yet?”

Debra stood on tiptoe and held onto his shoulder for balance.

Braam winced and she dropped her arm and swayed. “Oh, shit, sorry. Are you sore there?”

“Honey, I’m sore everywhere. One of the bastards jumped me from behind and then ran off.” He shook his head gently. “I’ve got to go back down and give a statement in a minute. I told them I needed to get cleaned up and ring head office, so I could come and explain. I honestly didn’t think you’d still be here. So thank you.”

The kiss he gave her was soft and gentle, but Debra’s reaction to it wasn’t.
Blast. One touch and I’m jelly.

Deb wanted to melt into him, but mindful of his aches and bruises, she held herself back just an inch.

“Dammit, woman, kiss me back properly.” Braam muttered the words against her mouth. “I need you.”

He held her so close the heat of his body warmed her. Her skin tingled, goose bumps covered her body and the hairs on her arms stood on end.

Well, if he wasn’t bothered about hurting himself more, why should she be? Deb sank into the kiss, mindful not to touch his puffy, bloody cheek. She welcomed his tongue into her mouth and swirled her own tongue around it. Braam groaned and held her ass so his cock pressed against her. It was hard and to Deb, in her instant arousal-befuddled state, enormous. It didn’t put her off from sliding one way then the other over it, though.

When he lifted his mouth, she felt empty. That emptiness was soon changed to excitement, as Braam nipped his way down the nape of her neck and nuzzled the top of her breast over the neckline of her dress.

“Wanted to do this all the time you sat in the lounge.” His breath skittered over her skin as he spoke. “Wished we were alone and I could do this as well.” He nudged the neckline down an inch and his cheek touched the soft swell. “Ouch and fuck. Wish I didn’t hurt.” He pressed one long, sucking kiss to where the top of her boob met her chest then stood up. “Hell, Deb, as ever, one look, one touch with you and I’m almost out of control. I’m sorry.”

His look was so reminiscent of every boy who’d been caught doing something they shouldn’t, Deb had to force herself not to laugh. “No you’re not, don’t lie. You enjoyed every minute of it.” She paused and ran her hand gently over his cheek, the one farthest away from his rapidly swelling eye.

“True enough.”

“Good, so did I.”

His eyes widened and he grinned. “Ouch, don’t make me smile, laugh or cry. It hurts too much. But I’m not forgetting that. Rain check and to be repeated as soon as possible.” He tucked her hair behind her ear. “Please?”

“We’ll see. Perhaps, maybe.”

He lifted the eyebrow of the non-injured eye.

“Yes, more than likely. Now is there anywhere around here I can clean your face up before you go and get grilled?”

“My room, I guess. Over there.” He pointed to a doorway in a corner at a right angle to the lift. Debra hadn’t noticed it before. It was the same color as the walls and set back from where people would walk.

“Come on then, or there will be people looking for you before we’ve finished.” Debra heard the double entendre and waited for his comeback. He didn’t make one.

“Thank you.” His voice was flat and unemotional. “So much for our talk.”