Page 3 of Climax of Passion


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She was nothing new to him. No-one to hold his interest. Amanda was used to put-downs. It was silly to let it hurt, yet for some unfathomable reason, coming from him, it did.

His attention had switched back to Charles Arnold. His stillness was minimally broken. The fingers of his right hand began to tap across the end of the armrest in a steadily paced rhythm as though he was counting.

The tour leader called for attention and gave schedule details, stipulating the time for the next group meeting in the foyer. The crowd dispersed, picking up luggage, heading for the elevators and the rooms allotted to them.

Amanda automatically tensed as Charles Arnold chose to join her behind the front desk, a look of smug satisfaction centered on his face. ‘Well, that should put the numbers up. What’s the intake for today, Mandy?’

Amanda gritted her teeth and pressed the keys to bring up the total on the computer. She hated the way he drawled his version of her name, making her sound like some brainless kewpie doll. She also hated the way he crowded her as he looked over her shoulder at the monitor screen, not exactly touching, but only a breath away. A hot breath. A breath that made her skin crawl.

‘Not bad,’ he commented. ‘I’ve done well. A pity everyone else can’t do as well. Now do a breakdown on singles, doubles and suites.’

Her fingers faltered and stopped as she had the strangest feeling of being gripped by some alien force. She looked up. The man from the armchair was walking towards the desk, his black eyes focused directly on her, giving her more concentrated attention, seeming to absorb all that she was.

Amanda’s heart skittered into a faster beat. He hadn’t dismissed her, after all. She could not help wondering what he saw, how she was adding up in his mind, how he would attempt to organise her.

He probably thought her a soft pale creature compared to himself. Although her fair complexion had acquired a light golden tan in the tropical sunshine at Fisa, this only tended to accentuate the bright clarity of her aquamarine eyes, and made her long ash-blonde hair look whiter than it was, especially against the black suit that was the standard hotel uniform for her position.

Amanda was no fragile flower, but her facial features did have a delicate femininity, and she was

slender and softly curved. Her physical appearance gave many men, men like Charles Arnold, the impression that she would be mal-leable and easy to manage. Amanda was quite happy for them to think so. Until such time as they crossed her mental line of what she considered wrong for her, anyone could think what they liked.

‘I have not been attended to.’

The sharp, demanding edge to the stranger’s voice made the statement sound like the most culpable crime against responsibility since the captain of the Titanic ordered full steam ahead.

Amanda’s fanciful speculations came to a dead halt. Her mind did an abrupt about-turn. She knew that voice. She had already heard it once today. This man owed her an apology for his rudeness on the telephone.

Charles Arnold gave the gentleman a perfunctory glance. ‘Everyone has to take their turn here, sir,’ he said brightly. ‘We’ll be with you in just a moment.’

In typically arrogant dismissal of anyone who impinged on his personal priorities, Charles turned back to Amanda. ‘Well, get on with it. The figures, please, Mandy,’ he urged. Then in an insultingly condescending tone, he in-structed, ‘Put your finger on the Enter key and...’

‘No! You will not touch the Enter key.’

The tone of absolute authority shivered through the air-conditioned atmosphere. Amanda had been right about one thing. The owner of the voice did not like having his orders disobeyed. He probably had an intense dislike for the word ‘no’, as well. Unless it was he who was using it.

She did her best to retrieve the situation. ‘We have a new arrival, Mr Arnold,’ she stated quietly. ‘Perhaps we could attend to him first.’

She flashed the stranger a quick glance, all ideas of aloofness, reserve, dignity and aplomb forgotten for the moment. She could not afford to have another complaint lodged against her. Her look carried a simple message. It said, please be aware that you are placing me in a difficult situation.

The man’s eyelids lowered fractionally for the briefest of moments, as if he had received her message, understood it completely, but nothing would divert him from the course of action he had chosen.

‘Don’t give me your dizzy blonde act, Mandy,’ Charles Arnold said, having missed the byplay between Amanda and the newly arrived guest. ‘These figures are important to me. My next promotion depends on them.’

‘I will have the Presidential Suite.’

That arrested Charles Arnold’s attention. Amanda hadn’t told him about the earlier inquiry. A paying customer in the Presidential Suite was a feather in any management cap. The dangling prize effected a complete reversal of attitude in Charles Arnold.

‘You are very welcome, sir.’

Pure smarmy syrup, Amanda thought, barely hiding her disgust as the sucking up act began.

‘We will attend to your every need immediately. Most regrettable that you’ve been kept waiting. If you’d alerted us earlier... However, we shall make generous amends. A porter for your luggage, sir? Any special refreshment you’d like in your suite? I’ll have your butler rung so it can be delivered while we... uh...take reservation details. Your name, sir?’

‘It is not necessary for you to know my name.’ It was a cold rebuff. The stranger, who was apparently intent on remaining a stranger, withdrew a folded sheet of paper from the inner pocket of his sports jacket and tossed it onto the desk. ‘This is all you need to know.’

Amanda watched Charles Arnold unfold the paper. It was thick, creamy, expensive. Her breath caught in her throat as she saw the emblem at the top of the page. She was not in a position to read the typed lines underneath, but that notepaper, that emblem, represented the man she most wanted to reach.

She had seen it before amongst her father’s papers...the personal insignia of the Sheikh of Xabia...a gyrfalcon at full wing, its talons poised ready to strike.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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