Flirting With Intent (8 page)

Restlessness plagued him as he made his way to the park.

Tension rode him as he tried to figure out exactly what he would say to the woman who’d gifted him with something special last night. Maybe the words
whatever you gave to me, take it back
would be enough.

Just a walk in the park with a pretty woman on his arm and a burning desire to let her know that last night had been nothing more than a pleasant Christmas Eve diversion. That it didn’t grant him any hold on her, or her on him. He wasn’t sure he’d spelled that out last night.

He had a feeling he’d lost track of that particular notion around about the time he and Ruby had found themselves alone in the limo.

No regrets—he knew they’d covered that one.

But no promises? What exactly
had
he promised her last night that he shouldn’t have? What had he given away?

Information? Of a certainty he’d revealed more than enough about his work, and he knew it, but he’d stopped, hadn’t he? She
knew
his limits in that regard. She’d
accepted
them.

Had he revealed his total inexperience when it came to letting someone see him, really see him, for what he was? He probably had. Didn’t mean he planned on doing it
again
in a hurry.

What else had he revealed in the back of that limo? A propensity for getting lost in passion? Well, if he had, Ruby had of a surety revealed the same. No crime there.

So why—as he watched her walk along the garden path towards him, in her pretty blue sundress with her tumbling curls pinned back with a peacock-feathered comb—did he feel so exposed?

Ruby Maguire’s eyes were knowing as they met his. ‘I figured as much,’ she said wryly as she stopped before him. ‘You’re here to tell me that last night was a mistake. That I shouldn’t expect a great deal from you. The word
nothing
comes to mind.’

‘That about covers it,’ he said gruffly.

‘Well,’ she said lightly, a vision of poise and loveliness and behind the pretty picture
a brain that ran razor-sharp when it came to reading people. ‘Seems to me you wasted your time in getting me here if that was the agenda, for it’s nothing I don’t already know. You overplayed the light-hearted, carefree Damon on the phone, by the way, if you want to know what really tipped me off. It just wasn’t you. Still …’ she looked skywards and smiled ‘… it’s a nice day for a stroll and I wanted to get out of the apartment. You don’t mind if I use you as a distraction, do you?’

Was yes even a
possible
answer after such a gracious and glossy dismissal of his concerns regarding her developing some kind of unwanted attachment to him? ‘No.’

He tipped his hat and held out his arm, and he even managed a self-mocking smile as she slipped her hand in the crook of his arm, and without a word they began to stroll.

‘You excel at making things easy for others, don’t you, Ruby?’ he offered at last. ‘And somewhere in the process you get exactly what you want. It’s very impressive.’

‘It’s a gift,’ she said dulcetly.

‘Or a weapon,’ he countered dryly. ‘Where’d you hone that razor-sharp mind of yours, Ruby?’

‘Harvard.’

It figured. ‘Where did
you
study?’ she asked.

Damon hesitated, and Ruby sighed.

‘Never mind,’ she said. ‘I forgot who I was talking to. Although may I point out that sticking entirely to the immediate present when conversing with
anyone
is a lot like talking to a brick. Nonetheless, I shall endeavour to oblige and make it easier for you to keep your secrets to yourself. See that building to the West, overlooking the park?’ She waved a slender hand in its direction. ‘That’s Hong Kong’s legislative council building. It’s one of the reasons there are so many political demonstrations and marches here in the park. As for the park’s history, did you know that these grounds once housed the most hallowed of colonial institutions, the Hong Kong Cricket Club?’

‘MIT,’ said Damon tightly, and stopped Ruby’s fact-spouting dead. ‘I studied mathematics and computer programming at MIT.’

The hand resting in the crook of his arm tightened, and Ruby came to a standstill. Damon turned to find her regarding him with a mixture of frustration and puzzlement.

‘What?’ he said. ‘You asked, I answered. I was just …’

‘Filtering,’ she said wryly. Which he had been. ‘Trust me, Damon. I know this game. My father never talked much beyond the moment either. You’d have liked him, by the way. He could have certainly shown you a trick or two about sliding graciously past a question you’re not inclined to answer.’

‘How would he have slid past that one?’

‘Oh, I dare say he’d have started spouting rhetoric about the measurement of man,’ said Ruby with a smile. ‘From there you might have swung through a deeply philosophical discussion of the education system or if he gauged you differently perhaps he’d have offered you a champagne and piled on the flattery as he guessed which of the top twenty learning institutes in the world
you
graduated from.’

‘Have you heard from him today?’

‘Why do you ask?’

Damon shrugged and realised he didn’t have any good answer other than Ruby drew him in, even when he didn’t want to be drawn, and got to him when he didn’t want to be got. ‘Maybe it’s because I know what it’s like to wait for word that never comes.’

‘He hasn’t been in touch.’

And then she leaned into him, butting
up against his arm with her body as if she craved connection, and he knew that feeling and that shoulder shove because he’d used it on Poppy as a child. Remember me, it had been shorthand for. The one who cost us our mother by dint of being born. The one who never quite managed to shake his feeling of isolation, even within the arms of family.

So he did what Poppy used to do, and put his arm around Ruby’s shoulder and hugged her to his side and kept her there. He could do that much for her. He did it without thinking.

‘I really hoped he’d call, you know?’ she said finally, with her arm around his waist and their footsteps in sync as they followed the path before them. ‘So that I’d know he was okay. That he was alive. That’s the worst part of all of this mess. The not knowing
anything.’

He should have realised that a woman of Ruby’s ilk would have thought past the most obvious reason for her father’s absence from her life. That she would have considered all sorts of explanations for her father’s disappearance, few of them palatable. ‘You think there’s been foul play?’

‘I don’t know,’ she murmured. ‘My father
had many faults, don’t get me wrong. Branding him a hero’s just … dumb. But I always thought he cared for me, and the way he left—without even the slightest goodbye or heads up … it doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t feel right.’

‘Maybe he was protecting you. You know the terminology, Ruby. Accomplice. Accessory after the fact.’

‘He was smart enough to avoid all that and still say goodbye.’

If
he’d wanted to. But Damon didn’t say that and Ruby didn’t go there either.

‘So what do you think
did
happen?’ he asked quietly. ‘You think he could have been trying to stop the theft?’

‘If I thought that, I’d have to prepare for the possibility that he’s dead. I don’t want to prepare for that possibility, Damon.’

‘It seems to me you already have.’

‘No.’ Ruby looked to the sky and the skyscrapers that crowded into it. ‘I haven’t. Not yet. Maybe not ever. Not as long as there’s hope.’

Not a fine Christmas Day for Ruby Maguire at all. In behind the peacock feathers and the smiles, Ruby Maguire was hurting.

‘You know what you need this afternoon?’
he said, and pressed his lips to her hair for good measure. ‘A strictly temporary, don’t read anything into this, distraction. Lucky for you, I’m a past
Master
at distracting people. As every last one of my school reports will attest.’

‘Why, Damon West.’ She sounded less morose already. ‘Was that freely volunteered information?’

‘I think it was. But don’t distract me while I’m busy trying to distract you. I hear there’s a hell of a roller-coaster ride around here somewhere.’

‘Yes, but in order to get
on
it one has to plan ahead.’

‘Or we could go and play on the midlevel elevators, that’s always fun.’

‘Well, if you’re a two-year-old …’

‘Golf!’ he said, inspired.

‘Spare me.’

‘Shopping?’

Ruby Maguire rewarded him with a smile. ‘I’m vastly impressed by your sacrifice, but no. Nothing much is open.’

‘Swimming?’

‘Maybe later.’

‘Mah-jong?’

‘But we’d need a third player.’

‘Poppy’ll play if we ask her. She might even know how.’

‘Meaning you’ve never played?’ asked Ruby delicately.

‘No, but how hard could it be?’

‘I like your optimism.’ Her smile had widened. Her eyes held a hint of mischief. ‘I suppose I could teach you the basics and then if Poppy wanted to join us she’d be most welcome. Were you to, say, enhance the speed of your learning experience by putting your money where your optimism is I would indeed be most delightfully distracted.’

‘You have all the essentials?’

The peacock feather bobbed up and down vigorously as she nodded. ‘Everything but your blank cheque.’

Ruby’s apartment held its own when it came to luxury and location. Size wise, it only had two bedrooms, one of which she used as an office, but the lounge and dining area was plenty large enough for a crowd, and more than large enough for a fleecing.

‘There’s a kitten around here somewhere,’ she said as she put her handbag on the side table and picked up the remote and switched the music on and drew the curtains back. Not
Christmas tunes, heaven forbid, but rather a brother and sister duo whose music played light and ethereal and wormed its way into the soul one wisp at a time.

‘You mean this kitten?’ Ruby turned and there was the kitten, creeping out from behind the couch and venturing closer to Damon than he’d ever ventured to her without serious coaxing.

‘That’s him, and you’re doing well. He’s the wary type. I like to think he’ll turn out to be a sweet and loving companion once we move past the outright mistrust stage but that’s just pure and hopeful speculation.’

‘Have you considered getting a dog?’ asked Damon dryly as the little cat took cover behind the leg of the coffee table.

But Ruby wasn’t quite mad enough to bring a dog to this city of sky rises and crowded concrete living. ‘Not for here,’ she said as she foraged in the fridge for the Christmas nibbles she’d stocked up on just in case, say, an army decided to drop in unexpectedly. ‘Maybe if I lived on a ranch, or a tropical island. Australia.’

‘Ever
been
to Australia? …’

‘Well, no. But I’m sure a dog could be very happy there. Its owner too.’

‘Let me know if you ever want to try it some time,’ he murmured. ‘I have a beach house on the East Coast that I never use. You could stay there. No resident dog though.’

‘Damon West, I stand corrected. You’re not a homeless person after all.’

He smiled at that. ‘Does it make you think better of me?’

‘No, but your offer does. It’s very generous. Also somewhat surprising. What if I were to discover some of those well-kept secrets of yours while I was there?’

‘Well, you could try,’ he said with supreme confidence as she set a jug of water and frosty glasses on the breakfast bar beside the food. ‘We could have a little wager on it.’

‘That’s the spirit,’ she said encouragingly and offered him a candied ginger. ‘May I get you a drink? Inhibition-loosening beverage of your choice?’

‘And if you miss out on a suitable job in Geneva you can always try the casinos in Monte Carlo,’ he offered dryly. ‘They’d have you in a heartbeat.’

‘I’ll keep that in mind,’ she murmured, and he smiled his lazy smile and popped a candy in his mouth.

He reached for the hat on his head and set
it on the breakfast stool next to him, making himself at home in her space, working his charm because she’d asked him to. Because she’d done enough soul-searching for today, and they could hammer out the details of their relationship another time, or just let it flow, considering that they both appeared to be on the same page when it came to knowing nothing permanent would come of it.

Didn’t mean she couldn’t appreciate and enjoy the gifts that he brought to her table today. The simple gift of being there. The rogue’s gifts of distraction and entertainment. His hug for her earlier, the gift of human touch. His understanding of her predicament when it came to her father. He had family he hadn’t heard from recently too.

‘Have you heard from your brother?’ One last serious question before she allowed herself to be seriously distracted.

‘No.’

‘Are you worried about him?’

‘Lena is. I’m a little more inclined to give him some leeway. Jared’s big on guilt at the moment because Lena nearly died under his command. Lena wants him home so she can tell him to get over it. My guess is that Jared’s gone after the people who hurt her
and that he’ll be back when he can deliver up their heads on a plate and not before.’

‘Oh.’ What to say to that? ‘It sounds … plausible.’ If one discounted the fact that, out head-hunting or not, surely brother Jared would have found an opportunity to call home by now.

‘I know how it sounds, Ruby. But we’re used to not hearing from Jared for long stretches at a time. I’m not that worried about him. Yet.’

‘Good,’ she said sincerely. ‘Here’s to your brother getting his revenge and finding his way home.’

‘You’re not going to say he should leave it to the legal system?’

‘Justice takes many forms, my friend. The legal system delivers but one of them.’

‘They teach you that in law school?’

‘No, that one comes with age and experience.’

‘Imagine how cynical you’ll be by the time you’re sixty.’

‘I know,’ she said. ‘Frightening. I have a feeling you’re going to like mah-jong. It’s a game of great subtlety. The wind blows and the probabilities turn. Dragons roar and the path ahead changes. Flexibility is the key. I’ll
show you the play, which you’ll pick up fast, and I’ll let you figure out the mathematical probabilities for yourself. Wouldn’t want that fancy maths degree of yours to go to waste.’ ‘You’re too kind.’