Stockholm Surrender (7 page)

Chapter Six

We flew first class but it was still exhausting. By the time we reached the Mandarin Oriental in Bangkok all I wanted to do was fall into a deep sleep even though it was just gone midday.

At seven o’clock, Mum called from their room two doors away and told me to get up and dressed for dinner.

I shuffled around the opulent bathroom in a bleary state, sorting through revive and refresh lotions that had been handed out on the flight. After rooting through my suitcase, I settled on a short black dress with thin shoulder straps, high black sandals and a long silver chain that looped several times around my neck. My eyes didn’t look too bloodshot after I’d treated them to “miraculously awake eye drops”.

Five minutes later I was tapping over the marble floor of the lobby feeling just about human and decidedly hungry.

“Oh darling, you look lovely,” Mum said, rising from the long, low sofa she was sitting on with Dad and his longtime protection officer, Phil.

“Thanks.”

She kissed my cheek and I smiled at Dad, who was chatting on his cell, and Phil, who was sipping a glass of orange juice. It was all he ever drank. He’d been around for years, was the same age as my father and could probably do Dad’s job if need be, he’d sat in on so many conversations and meetings. I liked him. He was quiet and unobtrusive, kind of like a piece of the furniture.

“Shall we go?” Dad asked, clicking shut his cell and standing. “We have reservations at a restaurant two doors down. I thought we would eat somewhere other than the hotel tonight. Get a feel for the real Bangkok.”

“Sounds great,” I said, glancing out the floor-to-ceiling windows at the busy street. Darkness was falling and the constant stream of cars and bikes lit the shadowed road. The pavement bulged with people laden with bags and briefcases. Everyone was rushing. Everyone going somewhere—fast.

We left the hotel and by the time we reached the Shangri-La restaurant, my head was spinning. I was jostled twice and Phil pulled me close as he maneuvered Mum and Dad through the crowd. I could see only shoulders and chests, and the humidity closed in on me oppressively.

It was a relief to step into the restaurant’s cool and pleasant air-conditioning. Waiting to be seated, I breathed in the rich scent of herbs and glanced around. Most of the candlelit tables were occupied. Large, softly glowing chandeliers hung from the ceiling. The walls were decorated with a rich scarlet-and-gold paper and opposite the huge expanse of windows stood a long, well-stocked bar dotted with customers.

“This way, please,” the maître d’ said.

We followed and Mum, Dad and I took a table together. Phil was seated alone, two tables from us. This was often his way. It meant we could have private family time but still be under his protection. He usually did a crossword as he ate his meal and as he sat tonight, he pulled out a small book and pen from the inside pocket of his jacket.

We had one of the best tables, giving us a clear view out of the window and across the street. After wine had been poured and we’d ordered the chef’s special tasting menu, Mum asked Dad about his plans for the next day.

“I’m hoping to be free by early afternoon so we can go to the temple,” he said.

“Do you have everything set up for the morning?” I asked.

“Yes, I’m meeting the new human rights lawyer assigned to the Hill case at eleven thirty. A bright chap apparently, had a lot of success in various locations around the world. Then I’m seeing Kasit Yong at twelve thirty.”

“Good, because I really want to get as much time at the temple as possible,” Mum said.

A waiter came over carrying a large tray. He set down several sizzling dishes and we all dug in. The food was spicy and tasty, a maelstrom of unusual flavors and textures that zinged over my taste buds and palate.

A brilliant flash and a sudden clattering against the windowpane caught my attention. I looked outside. It was raining—hard. Pelting the glass like a million tiny stones. Car headlights highlighted the downpour and fat raindrops bounced off the path. People rushed with bags, newspapers and briefcases over their heads, trying to escape the torrent.

Staring at the deluge and the frenzy it had caused, I suddenly froze, my loaded fork halfway to my mouth.

Oh my bloody god.

A wild clap of thunder rumbled into the room, so loud it vibrated through the soles of my feet and deep into my chest.

I barely noticed.

There he was, standing in the shelter of a bank doorway on the other side of the street. Staring straight at me.

What the hell is Ty doing here? In Bangkok?

It was too damn risky for him to be this near Dad and Phil.

“Gosh,” Mum said, clasping her hand over her chest. “That was rather loud, wasn’t it?”

“Yes,” Dad said. “Glad we’re in here and not out there.”

I continued to stare out the window at Ty. His gaze was locked on me. People whizzed past him, shoulders hunched, feet scurrying. The storm raged on. Rain streamed down the glass in obese dribbles, blurring his face. But he just carried on staring, looking into the Shangri-La, directly at me.

He was playing a perilous game.

“Penny,” Mum said. “Penny, would you like some more wine?”

I tore my gaze from Ty. My knees were weak, even though I was seated. My mind was in a whir, my heart thumping. “What? Oh, er, yes, please.”

A waiter topped up my glass. I reached for it and took a big slug.

I must have been mistaken. Ty wasn’t there. He was just a figment of my sexually frustrated, besotted imagination. I’d hallucinated. It was the only explanation.

I turned back to the window, my gaze darting over the rushing crowd.

He was gone.

Shit.

After the shock of seeing him, the shock of him disappearing was just as startling. I searched the stream of people around the bank doorway. There was no one with a shock of blond hair. No tall, hunky guy with broad shoulders and a face that haunted my dreams.

How had he melted away so quickly? Perhaps he
had
been a hallucination, a weird Bangkok mirage.

I’m going mad.

“Penny, are you okay?” Dad asked. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Oh no, I’m quite okay,” I said, drawing in a tight breath.

Except for the fact that my grip on sanity was becoming rather tenuous.

“Are you sure? I know you’re not a fan of thunderstorms.”

“Yes, yes, fine, I just got a bit of chili in my last mouthful, that’s all.”

Glancing around, I saw Phil chewing on a kebab and scribbling in his crossword book. A Western couple to my left were looking our way—they probably recognized Dad. The long bar had filled with people escaping the rain. Three barmen zipped about serving drinks, their reflections in the mirrors behind the rows of optics adding to the sense of frenetic movement.

I took a sip of my delicately fruity sauvignon blanc and watched a new customer seat himself at the very end of the bar. Near the sign to the restrooms. A tall, slim man with a perfect triangular-shaped torso, a cute denim-clad butt and a mop of sun-bleached hair.

For the second time in as many minutes my heart stuttered.

No way.

Ty had come into the damn restaurant.

I watched him shove his hand through his damp hair causing it to stick up messily. Spots of water peppered his pale-green t-shirt, wetting it enough so that it clung to his skin and outlined the deep gutter of his spine. He pointed at something and the barman set a tall bottle of beer in front of him.

“Would you like a glass of water?” Mum asked.

“No, I’m okay,” I said, dragging my gaze from Ty. Was the man an idiot? Seriously? In here? With us?

“But it would help with the chili,” Mum said.

“No, no, really I’m fine.” I wished she would quit fussing. I needed to think.

Surely Ty wasn’t planning on pulling any foolish stunts tonight. Not with Dad and Phil around. Not to mention the Thai police and severe justice system. He would never get away with it. It would be a disaster.

I risked another look and our gazes connected through the mirror. His reflection was bedraggled but insanely gorgeous just the same. A tremor ran up my spine. My traitorous body buzzed for him, despite the dreadfully hazardous situation.

As he lifted the beer and curled his lips around the end, I remembered exactly what that mouth had done to me last time I’d seen him. When I’d been tied to a chair, legs spread, knickerless and panting for his administrations.

“I’m really looking forward to seeing the sights tomorrow,” Dad said.

I squirmed on my seat, my clit tightening at the memory of Ty’s tongue licking strong and steady. Exploring all my folds and teasing into my entrance. God, the man could win Olympic medals with the things he could do with his tongue.

“Yes, it will be lovely. We must remember the camera,” Mum said.

Ty set his bottle back on the bar, his eyes unblinking as he observed me. I couldn’t help but wonder if he too was remembering our last encounter.

I glanced at Phil. He was still immersed in his crossword book.

“You don’t seem very enthusiastic, Penny,” Dad said. “It was your suggestion originally.”

“Sorry, what?”

“Seeing the Emerald Buddha temple, dear,” Mum said with a sigh.

“Oh yes, of course. No, I am looking forward to it. It will be lovely.” Not half as lovely as it would be to satisfy the burning hunger inside me. Hunger for a man who was my forbidden fruit, my captor, my lover, my enemy and my, dare I say it, friend.

Am I insane?

Yes.

Insane or not there was something I had to do, otherwise I would simply explode with frustration. And why not do it? It was my right, what I was due. Ty had said he wanted progress. Well, here it bloody well was. Dad was in Thailand, with an appointment with not just the Thai foreign minister tomorrow but also James Hill’s brand-spanking-new human rights lawyer.

And it was all down to me.

If that wasn’t progress then I didn’t know what was.

“Excuse me,” I said, standing. “I’m just going to the ladies.” I reached for my purse.

“Oh, okay,” Mum said. “We’ll hold the next course if it comes. Wait for you.”

“No, please, go ahead.”

I looked at Phil. At my movement his attention had snapped away from his puzzle. I nodded in the direction of the ladies. He bobbed his head once and swept his keen eyes over the route I would take. I knew he would follow my every move and that of those around me. But he was relaxed, there was nothing to arouse his suspicion, so I should be able to carry out my plan. It wasn’t as if he knew the thug who kept stealing me was sitting at the end of the bar looking like every filthy thought I’d ever had come true and causing my heart to swell like a balloon rising to popping point.

Feeling slightly floaty from wine and apprehension, I maneuvered my way through the busy restaurant, winding around tables and chairs and all the time getting closer and closer to Ty. But as I approached then passed him, I didn’t pause. Despite his gaze burning into my butt cheeks, I stalked into the restrooms not slowing my momentum whatsoever.

Barging into a cubicle, I immediately started rummaging through my purse, searching desperately for a scrap of paper and a pen. Balancing my bag on my knee, I delved to the very bottom and found a pen. Paper? No. I grabbed the toilet tissue, tore off a corner, spread it out on the wall and hastily scrawled,
Rm 802, Mandarin. U OWE ME! XX.

After quickly reapplying my lip gloss, I strolled back out—heart semi-controlled and breathing steady-ish. My heels clicked on the tiled floor as I came back into the muted lighting of the restaurant.

He was still there, head slightly dipped, hovering over his near-empty beer and his penetrating gaze fixed on me. A quick glance at Mum and Dad told me they were tucking into the next course. Phil, however, was looking my way.

I gulped down a bite of bile.

Damn.

I’d intended on dropping the note on the bar, but that couldn’t happen. So instead, as I clicked past Ty, I let it flutter to the floor.

I could only pray that he noticed and picked it up. Because with Phil’s gaze on me, there was nothing else I could do.

* * * * *

“I’m going to put connection alarms on your doors,” Phil said after Mum, Dad and I had bid good night outside our hotel rooms. “Usual routine. It will scream blue murder if the door opens and I’ll know to come check you out. So if you order room service or nip out to the bar,” he glanced at me, “then let me know on the cell first and I’ll come disconnect.”

“Good idea,” Dad said, shaking Phil’s hand. “But I don’t think you’ll hear a peep out of us, we’re exhausted.”

“Yes, absolutely shattered,” Mum said, stifling a yawn and heading into her room.

My heart sank. The alarm wasn’t usual routine but neither was it totally out of the ordinary. Phil had used these alarms on several occasions. It usually meant he was totally knackered and it would take an earthquake to wake him. But why tonight of all nights? We were eight floors up. Ty had Spider-Man abilities but even he couldn’t scale eight stories. There was no way I would get him into my room tonight and hell, the man had some debts to settle.