Waiting For Mr. Wonderful!

‘My, you must have been keen.’

‘Yes, but not for what you think. The only reason I came at all and waited till now is because you told me you were leaving Bath tomorrow morning and that what you had to tell me was important and urgent. No other reason,’ she emphasized, fixing him with a hard look.

While she’d been reeling off this defence, Lasalle had seated himself on the bed.

‘What a shame.’ The blue eyes danced beneath their scandalously long lashes. ‘So what, may I ask, brought about this sudden change of mind?’

‘I realised I’d been too hasty.’ She tried a persuasive smile. ‘Look, I really am sorry for the way I acted earlier and I seriously do want to hear what you have to say.’

‘I’ve no doubt you do.’ He was slipping off his gold watch and laying it down on the bedside table. ‘Trouble is, it’s a bit late for serious discussions now.’

‘I know, and I apologize.’ She tried another persuasive smile. ‘Couldn’t you just tell me whatever it is very quickly?’

‘I’m afraid not.’ He shook his head. ‘It’s been a long day and I’m tired. The only thing on my agenda right now is bed.’

‘So, what are we going to do? You’re leaving tomorrow.’

‘You’re right. I am. So I guess that’s it.’ He sighed and paused a moment before adding, ‘Unless, of course, you feel like spending the night here. I suppose it’s always possible that we might manage to fit in a few minutes of serious discussion in the course of the night.’

Georgia was aware of a frosty look descending on her face. ‘I’m afraid that solution doesn’t appeal to me in the slightest.’ She glared at him for a moment, then carefully softened her expression. Somehow, she had to get round him and pin him down on her terms.

‘What about tomorrow morning? I could come here to the hotel early. We could fit in a few minutes before you leave.’ .

He was shaking his head again. ‘I’ll be leaving very early. And I’m not really a morning person. More of a night owl. Early-morning meetings aren’t my thing.’

‘But this is important!’ Georgia glared at him again. He was enjoying this, making her pay for turning him away earlier. She could see the amusement flickering across his face. ‘What am I going to do if you refuse to help me?’

‘I’m not refusing to help you. I told you...stay the night.’

This was impossible. ‘I’m not staying the night. What do you think I am? You’ve got a damned cheek!’

‘OK. It seems to me that’s the end of the discussion. If you’re not staying, I’m going to get some sleep now.’

And before she had a chance to close her eyes or turn away he was loosening the towel at his waist and tossing it to the floor. A moment later, in one smooth movement, he had slipped between the sheets.

Georgia’s cheeks had turned the same bright colour as her suit. Damned exhibitionist! He’d done that on purpose. But if he’d been trying to embarrass her into just turning around and leaving he was about to discover that she didn’t embarrass quite that easily!

She fixed him with a defiant look. ‘There must be some way round this. We could speak on the phone, for example. Give me your number and I’ll ring you.’

He was leaning back against the pillows, his hair very black against the white linen. He smiled at her. ‘I can see you’re reluctant to leave. So, why not just slip off your things and join me in here?’

She was getting nowhere. She was beaten. Angrily, Georgia turned away. ‘Don’t kid yourself. I’m not in the least reluctant to leave. I’m just sorry I made the mistake of coming in the first place.’ She stomped off towards the door. ‘Good night and goodbye.’

He made no answer, but she could feel the blue eyes following her. Then, as she snatched the door open and was about to step out into the corridor, he said, ‘If you still want to hear what I have to say, come to the hotel tomorrow afternoon about five.’

‘I thought you were leaving tomorrow morning...?’

Frowning, she turned to face him. But, at that precise moment, he switched off the bedside lights.

The sudden darkness blinded her, in spite of the faint light from the corridor. Georgia blinked and continued to stare unseeingly towards the bed. Had he really meant that invitation? Dared she believe him? She felt totally thrown. What had provoked this abrupt turnaround?

‘Are you still there?’ Suddenly, he spoke again. ‘Look, make up your mind. Either come here and join me or leave, closing the door behind you, and let me get some sleep. I don’t like people hovering about.’

Stifling a curse, Georgia stepped into the corridor and closed the door with a sharp, decisive click.

‘Well, this is what I call interesting! But I’m not really surprised. I knew he was much too gorgeous to be a villain!’

Georgia had told Kay all about her two meetings with Lasalle yesterday, including the ignominious business of her falling asleep on his bed, a scenario that had hugely amused her assistant.

‘What I don’t understand,’ she’d joked, ‘is why you refused to stay the night. A dish like that doesn’t walk into a girl’s life every day.’

There was no arguing with that, but, as Georgia told her now, ‘I’m still not as convinced as you are that he’s actually on the level.’ For, though she intended keeping the appointment at his hotel this afternoon, she still had a few lingering doubts about Jean-Claude Lasalle.

‘I don’t even know who he is, for heaven’s sake. In spite of what he was saying, he could still be one of Duval’s men. I mean, why on earth would someone suddenly show up like that, completely out of the blue, offering to help me? Maybe it’s all just an elaborate scheme to try and trick me. Today could turn out to be a total waste of time.’

‘Never.’ Kay was incorrigible. ‘How could a meeting with a man like that ever turn out to be a total waste of time?’ She fixed Georgia with a narrow look, half joking, half serious. ‘Who knows? This could finally be the Mr Wonderful you’ve been waiting for.’

‘Yes, and pigs might fly.’ At least Georgia was sure about one thing. Jean-Claude Lasalle was a pretty tasty packet of goods, but there was no way in the world he was going to turn out to be Mr Wonderful!

The Mr Wonderful thing was a joke that had grown up between her and Kay—who was her good friend as well as her valued assistant. Kay kept telling her it was time she found herself a man.

‘Work’s not everything,’ she would chide her. ‘You need a love life as well.’

‘You happily married people are all the same,’ Georgia would counter, for Kay had been blissfully married to Eddie for seven and a half years. ‘But I’m not looking for a man. Right now, work suits me fine.’

In a way, it was true. For the past three and a half years, since throwing open the bright blue doors of Georgia D—with only a scarily hefty bank loan and a bucketful of ambition to prop her up—the huge amount of work involved in making the business a success had absorbed a vast chunk of both her time and her emotions. Of course, there’d been men on the scene. But never anyone serious. None of them had ever amounted to more than the occasional pleasant dinner date.

Sometimes, she felt the lack, as she occasionally confessed to Kay, but the plain truth was she simply hadn’t met a man who’d even half tempted her to start getting serious.

‘Your problem is,’ Kay had once observed wisely, ‘that you’re not looking for Mr Right, you’re looking for Mr Wonderful.’ And maybe, Georgia had to confess, she was right.

A man who’ll sweep me off my feet and turn my whole head inside out and fill my life with love and magic and excitement. Passion. Fire. Enchantment. Wonder. I’m crazy, she often told herself, but that really is what I dream of.

And Jean-Claude Lasalle? Well, he would know all about passion. And there was a fire in him, even a little magic, and he was undeniably exciting. But, in spite of all that, he was no Mr Wonderful. Mr Wonderful, above all, would be a one-woman man, and it was as plain as the exceedingly handsome nose on his face that Jean-Claude Lasalle was definitely not that!

So she ignored Kay’s wink as she set off from the shop at four forty-five to keep her appointment. All she wanted from Lasalle was to find out what he knew about Duval and—if she decided he really was genuine—how he proposed to help her fight him.

Less than fifteen minutes later, she was walking up to the hotel reception desk to find herself looking into the beady-eyed face of the same woman who’d been on duty last night. Having witnessed Georgia’s departure from the hotel just after midnight, she must really be wondering what the devil was going on!

So, let her wonder!

‘Georgia Dee for Mr Lasalle,’ Georgia told her, adding with a confident smile, ‘He’s expecting me.’

But her smile instantly died. The woman shook her head. ‘I’m afraid Mr Lasalle isn’t here. He’s gone to London.’

‘London?’ Georgia was aware of her mouth dropping open. ‘London?’ she said again. ‘But we have an appointment!’

‘There’s a message for you, however.’ The woman was turning away to extract a slip of paper from Lasalle’s cubby-hole. ‘He phoned a little while ago to say he’d been held up, but that he’d be here to keep your appointment just as soon as he could.’