Page 3 of Master of El Corazon

ARDEN tried not to cringe as Lithgow’s gaze swept over her, all the way from her damp, tousled hair to her bare toes peeking out from under her robe. He frowned and she moaned inwardly. She looked about as unprofessional as it was possible to look—but then, she certainly hadn’t expected a visitor! With difficulty, she managed what she hoped might pass for a polite smile.

‘Mr Lithgow, sir. What a surprise.’

‘Good evening, Miss Miller. I apologise for the intrusion, but something’s come up, and I wondered if I might bother you to take a short memo.’

‘Now?’ she said stupidly.

He frowned again. ‘I know it’s irregular and I apologise. But it will only take a moment, I promise.’

Arden stared at him. It was, indeed, irregular. Until this instant, she’d never even seen him on her floor.

‘Miss Miller?’

Her hesitation had turned Lithgow’s frown into a scowl. She gave him one more quick glance, as if to reassure herself that he were the same man she worked with each day, tall and angular in a dark blue suit, his few strands of pale hair combed neatly across his skull, his rimless eye glasses perched high on his narrow nose, and then she smiled.

‘Of course,’ she said, opening the door wide. ‘Come in.’

Lithgow stepped past her into the room, and her nose wrinkled. He’d brought a scent with him—what was it? Cologne? Shaving lotion? She’d never noticed him wearing either.

Gin, Arden thought in surprise. Was that what she smelled? Gin?

‘Your notepad, Miss Miller. Where is it?’

She hesitated. ‘It’s—it‘s—’

‘This is quite an urgent memo, Miss Miller. I’d prefer not to waste time standing around this way.’ He turned and slammed the door shut. ‘And I’ve no wish to have anyone hear me dictate something of such importance.’

Arden glanced at the closed door, then at her boss’s face. He looked as he always did, coldly forbidding and somewhat unapproachable.

‘Miss Miller?’ His voice was sharp. ‘Is there a problem?’

‘No.’ She shook her head. ‘No, sir, of course not.’

Not unless you called her own silly imagination a problem, Arden thought. The run-in with the stranger had obviously made her edgy, and foolishly so. If Edgar Lithgow wanted to have a drink on his own time, that was his business. If he needed to dictate an urgent memo, that was hers, and never mind that she wasn’t really comfortable having him turn up in her rooms after working hours.

‘I have some stationery in the dresser in the bedroom,’ she said as she started from the room. ‘I’ll just get it and—’

‘You weren’t at the party, Miss Miller.’

Arden turned in surprise. Lithgow had followed her; he was almost on her heels and now that he was so close to her, the smell of gin was strong enough to make her wrinkle her nose.

‘Uh, no, no, I wasn’t.’ She glanced down at herself and flushed, which was silly, considering that she was covered from throat to toe. Still, if she was going to take dictation, she suddenly wanted to change from her robe to something more substantial. ‘I—uh—I was just taking a shower,’ she said with a quick smile. ‘Why don’t you go back into the sitting-room and give me a minute to put on—?’

‘Don’t be silly, Miss Miller.’ He smiled. ‘Stay just as you are, my dear. You look quite comfortable.’

My dear? Arden cleared her throat. She wanted to take a step back, but the bed was just behind her, pressing lightly against the backs of her legs. ‘Well, then,’ she said briskly, ‘let me just get that paper and we’ll get started.’

‘By all means.’

‘You’ll—you’ll have to move, sir.’ His brows rose questioningly. ‘The paper’s over there,’ she said, gesturing towards the dresser on the far wall. ‘I need to get past you.’

Lithgow smiled and shifted slightly to the side. ‘You’re a slender girl, Arden. Surely you don’t need more room than this?’

All at once, everything in the room seemed slightly askew, like a scene viewed through a pair of unfocused binoculars. Be calm, she told herself, just take things nice and easy.

‘You know, Mr Lithgow,’ she said with a careful smile, ‘it really is very late. Alejandro will be bringing my supper in a moment, and—’

Lithgow chuckled slyly. ‘No, he won’t.’

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