Heartbreak Hero. Frances Housden

Kel was so hot a woman was apt to lose her perspective. She shrugged. “A jerk’s a jerk no matter where you find him.”

      Let him make what he would of that remark.

      Ngaire accompanied the statement with a stare that should have made him back off, but he was obviously too full of his own appeal to take the hint.

      “Tell me about it. In my line I must have met them all.”

      “And what is your line?” Apart from hitting on strange women in airports. Tiredness, it seemed, had caught up with her again, making her feel disgruntled.

      “I’m a sales rep for a software company.”

      “Well, nice to meet you, Kel, but I’m not in the market for software.” Or soft looks. Or anything else he was selling, even if his eyes did look like melting chocolate and she was a chocoholic from way back. From this moment on, she was a recovering one.

      “No problem. I’m on leave at the moment. Taking a vacation around my old stomping grounds before I head back to Australia. I cover the Pacific Rim and Southeast Asia.”

      “Did you know Australia has twenty-five different varieties of fleas? More than any other country in the world.”

      “No, I didn’t. It’s not something I’ve personally had to deal with. Now, snakes on the other hand—”

      “Don’t get me started on those.” She shivered. “Nasty things, thank heavens there are none in New Zealand.” Only two-legged ones. “Just as well, because the way I feel at the moment, the only thing that could make me run is the sound of a hot shower.”

      “How about having dinner with me after your shower?”

      Kel must be good at his job. Tenacity was a big requirement for a sales rep. She’d thought she’d made herself pretty plain without being in-your-face rude. “I don’t think so. The only place I’m going after my shower is bed. And no, I don’t want company.”

      “Too bad, I know all the best places…for dinner, that is.”

      Despite her weakened condition she averted her gaze from Kel’s melting eyes and too sexy mouth and caught sight of a shuttle pulling up outside the terminal. “That’s my ride, I’ve got to run.”

      “I’d better give you back your rose-colored glasses, then. You’re starting to sound as if you need them.”

      She gasped with delight as he dangled the pink shades in front of her. She’d thought they were gone for good.

      Guilt dropped into her conscience, cold and heavy and weighing on her. Her shoulders jinked slightly from side to side, as if that would shift the blame. It didn’t.

      “It was kind of you to wait. I’m sorry if I seemed less than sociable, but you know how it is. It’s been a long day. All I want to do is find my hotel.”

      “No worries, you didn’t offend me. Which hotel are you in?”

      “The Hilton.” Ngaire felt uncomfortable saying the name. Every time she did, it sounded too much like boasting for a girl who lived in the blurred area where Chinatown and North Beach merged. But it was all part of her prize, and she wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the teeth even if they were gold plated.

      “The Hilton? Great! That’s where I’m staying.” He looked over his shoulder at the shuttle just starting to fill up outside. “I can ride along with you. It’ll be fun.”

      Too frazzled to disagree, Ngaire simply went with the flow as his laptop case changed hands and he took her elbow to accompany her to their transport. Her heartbeat kept time with the wheels of her suitcase as it clicked, clicked, clicked across the tiled floor. Now, what were the odds that they’d both be booked into the Hilton? Neither of them looked to be of the platinum-card variety. But then, looks could be deceiving.

      Garnet Chaly eased his slim backside into the chair, a hand on each arm as if it might rock under him. The illusion brought about by the fact that all he could see below him was water. The Waitemata Harbour that the Auckland Hilton perched over.

      Running a hand through silver hair just long enough for studied elegance, he leaned back in the chair. Surveying the hotel room, Chaly rubbed his thumb against his fingertips with a shivery whisper of skin against skin that he found soothing. Outside the window, the lowering sun had turned the sea silver, as if the Hilton had ordered it to match its decor of pale gray, blond wood and white. Luxurious, yet minimalist, like a sleek ocean-going yacht. The company was doing Jellic well this time around.

      Chaly crossed his ankle over one knee and twitched the cuff of his black pants level with his socks as he heard the click of a keycard sliding through the slot in the door.

      As it swung open, Kel filled the gap between the doorjambs, silhouetted against the light from the corridor, but there was no mistaking the high-bridged nose or the cheekbones that made his Dalmatian heritage unmistakable.

      Instead of looking into the room, he faced right and gave a wave, not turning until after he heard the sound of a door closing nearby. Shifting sideways, he eased the bag over his shoulder and into the room. He was a big bugger, rough around the edges when he needed to be, but tonight he looked like a beach bum. “Aloha, Kel. Where’s the luau?”

      Kel’s suit carrier hit the stand provided. “I know, the shirt needs changing, but I didn’t want the target out of sight for however long it took. One of many drawbacks to working without a partner. Have you fixed me up with a new one?”

      Kel threw him a swift, hopeful glance as he placed his laptop bag on the writing desk. Its spindly metal legs barely looked able to support its top, never mind all the gear Chaly knew his agent would be carrying.

      “None available. Training new agents takes time, and Gordie Tan was the third casualty in as many months. There’s been a lot of negligence doing the rounds, watch it’s not catching.”

      Hands fisted on his hips, Kel prowled toward the window and stared at the water. Without turning he said, “I bet that just cuts you up.”

      “All my agents are important. Without them the South Pacific would be the hellhole it became after Cook navigated these waters. Meanwhile we all have to pick up the slack, you included. That said, I’m only a call away if you need me.”

      Hiding his face couldn’t disguise the emotion choking Kel. Chaly’s fingertips moved faster against his thumb. Damn Jellic, a perpetual do-gooder. He’d always been a sentimental fool. Hell, the only reason he’d joined GDE was to right all the perceived wrongs his father had done. Chaly knew all about Jellic’s father. A man who’d driven off the top of a cliff rather than face the consequences of being a bent cop caught dealing drugs.

      His sister was similarly maimed by their family history. He’d heard that Jo McQuaid Stanhope and her brand-new husband, a millionaire, had started digging around in the past, trying to prove the father innocent. Idealists, they never could be happy with just the money.

      With the sea and the islands of the gulf blocking in the rest of the window frame, Kel worried at the stubble on his chin as if considering an apology for his rudeness. Too easy. No way was Chaly going to give him a chance to back down or pull out. Knowing Jellic the way he did, he solved his problem by going for the jugular.

      “If you can’t handle the pressure, say so now and I’ll take the job on myself. I hear the target’s built. Maybe I could get myself some of that.”

      Chaly’s silky sarcasm relieved the tension. He resisted giving away his thoughts by shaking his head. Hell, he could take on Jellic’s job, no sweat. But Kel could never do his until he learned how to spell dispensable.

      “I never said I couldn’t cope, but a bloody bus tour! How crappy is that? Do you know where they take you to on those tours? The Waitomo Caves, for God’s sake! Walks through the rain forest. She could ditch the papers anyplace and we’d never find them. It’s obvious now she’s only carrying the formula, because they checked her out at customs and didn’t