picked up his coffee cup again. Kay had long since erased the gangster image. Stan’s rather sleazy appearance was only the result of living on a plane for three days. That he liked to clutch his briefcase—well, to each his own. And as for the slitted eyes—it wasn’t his fault he was born looking shifty. “And the temperatures—Lord, the temperatures at the height of the season’ll reach a hundred and thirty, day after day, and a man’ll work for months in that sun for nothing more than a promise of potch.”
“Potch?” Kay questioned.
Stan glanced at her with surprise. “The common stuff. No fire.”
“Ah.” She nodded. It would be nice if she had the least idea what he was talking about.
Stan hadn’t said so much as two words until Kay had asked him where he was from. He hadn’t shut up since.
Mitch had greeted the man with a firm handshake and introduced him to Kay. From then on, aside from ordering dinner from wine through dessert, Mitch had said very little. Twice she’d caught an amused half smile on his face, but there was no smile in his eyes for his colleague—or whatever Stan Hemerling was.
And while Stan had more moves than a nervous cat, Mitch remained totally laid back and relaxed.
Kay was as strung up as barbed wire. What was his business? What was going on here?
“We’ve been working together going on five years now, I’d say, right, Mitch?”
“Around that.”
“Really—” Stan turned again to Kay with another of his off-center smiles “—we’ve been more friends than business partners. His father brought me home one time to…uh…liven up Mitch’s life, and I sure enough did that. Took him for a ride on one flawed stone, but after that I taught him everything I knew and then some. Mitch took a while to forget that feathered culet, though, didn’t you, Mitch?”
Mitch smiled. “There’s nothing you taught me that I’ve forgotten,” he said dryly.
After the third cup of coffee, Stan rose with polite excuses and headed for the men’s room. Kay whirled in her chair with lips parted, prepared to cannon out four thousand questions, when Mitch said a quietly appreciative thank-you.
So much for the wind in her sails. As if she hadn’t just listened to an hour of incessant prattling on a subject she couldn’t fathom, she felt a soft quiet steal over her. Mitch’s eyes were warm. And as provocatively intimate as naked skin. Mitch gave her the feeling he could see through to bare flesh, at will. Like now.
“I thought you’d like the stories about Australia,” Mitch said quietly, “but I’d forgotten the way he takes for granted that everyone’s in the business. I’ll fill you in on the lingo later, Kay—but right now I just want to tell you I appreciate your patience with him. Not that I don’t like the old devil myself. But I find it almost impossible to concentrate, with his incessant talking, and a few minutes from now I’ll need every ounce of concentration I can beg, borrow or steal.” Mitch signed the check, handed it to the waitress and rose. “I’ll be a bit disappointed if he didn’t at least whet your curiosity,” he murmured as he steered her through the crowded restaurant lobby to the motel entrance.
She simply tossed Mitch a glance, as Stan ambled back into view. Why on earth should she be curious? Simply because a man flew in from a few thousand miles away just to have dinner? Simply because that same man rambled on about Cooper Pedy and potch and feathered culets as if such things should be familiar to her? Simply because the man didn’t seem to have two figs in common with Mitch? Simply because the men were now getting a key to a motel room?
“In for a dime, in for a dollar,” Kay muttered darkly as she felt Mitch’s palm at the small of her back, leading her inexorably toward room 114. Even the number had a sinister sound.
“Same room as last time,” Stan mentioned, as if that thoroughly satisfied him.
Kay smiled happily.
She
“Potch?” Kay questioned.
Stan glanced at her with surprise. “The common stuff. No fire.”
“Ah.” She nodded. It would be nice if she had the least idea what he was talking about.
Stan hadn’t said so much as two words until Kay had asked him where he was from. He hadn’t shut up since.
Mitch had greeted the man with a firm handshake and introduced him to Kay. From then on, aside from ordering dinner from wine through dessert, Mitch had said very little. Twice she’d caught an amused half smile on his face, but there was no smile in his eyes for his colleague—or whatever Stan Hemerling was.
And while Stan had more moves than a nervous cat, Mitch remained totally laid back and relaxed.
Kay was as strung up as barbed wire. What was his business? What was going on here?
“We’ve been working together going on five years now, I’d say, right, Mitch?”
“Around that.”
“Really—” Stan turned again to Kay with another of his off-center smiles “—we’ve been more friends than business partners. His father brought me home one time to…uh…liven up Mitch’s life, and I sure enough did that. Took him for a ride on one flawed stone, but after that I taught him everything I knew and then some. Mitch took a while to forget that feathered culet, though, didn’t you, Mitch?”
Mitch smiled. “There’s nothing you taught me that I’ve forgotten,” he said dryly.
After the third cup of coffee, Stan rose with polite excuses and headed for the men’s room. Kay whirled in her chair with lips parted, prepared to cannon out four thousand questions, when Mitch said a quietly appreciative thank-you.
So much for the wind in her sails. As if she hadn’t just listened to an hour of incessant prattling on a subject she couldn’t fathom, she felt a soft quiet steal over her. Mitch’s eyes were warm. And as provocatively intimate as naked skin. Mitch gave her the feeling he could see through to bare flesh, at will. Like now.
“I thought you’d like the stories about Australia,” Mitch said quietly, “but I’d forgotten the way he takes for granted that everyone’s in the business. I’ll fill you in on the lingo later, Kay—but right now I just want to tell you I appreciate your patience with him. Not that I don’t like the old devil myself. But I find it almost impossible to concentrate, with his incessant talking, and a few minutes from now I’ll need every ounce of concentration I can beg, borrow or steal.” Mitch signed the check, handed it to the waitress and rose. “I’ll be a bit disappointed if he didn’t at least whet your curiosity,” he murmured as he steered her through the crowded restaurant lobby to the motel entrance.
She simply tossed Mitch a glance, as Stan ambled back into view. Why on earth should she be curious? Simply because a man flew in from a few thousand miles away just to have dinner? Simply because that same man rambled on about Cooper Pedy and potch and feathered culets as if such things should be familiar to her? Simply because the man didn’t seem to have two figs in common with Mitch? Simply because the men were now getting a key to a motel room?
“In for a dime, in for a dollar,” Kay muttered darkly as she felt Mitch’s palm at the small of her back, leading her inexorably toward room 114. Even the number had a sinister sound.
“Same room as last time,” Stan mentioned, as if that thoroughly satisfied him.
Kay smiled happily.
She
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