|
CHAPTER 10
“Check in for Fox and Bailey,” Nigel said to the desk clerk as he adjusted the bag on his shoulder and set Sydney ’s on the floor. “Certainly, Sir.” The young man smiled and checked his commuter, then his smile widened and he moved to select a door card from the smart. “The honeymoon suite for you and your bride.” “W…what?” Nigel gaped at him as Sydney finally joined him at the desk, having lingered over a rack of magazines in the lobby. “There…there must be a mistake. I said Fox and Bailey. Professor Sydney Fox and Nigel Bailey. We’re here for professor’s conference on Ancient History.” The clerk’s smile wavered and he checked his computer again. “I…I’m sorry, sir. I only have a Mr and Mrs. Nigel Bailey down for the honeymoon suite.” Nigel flushed and couldn’t even look at Sydney . How could someone make such a huge mistake? He had been standing next to Karen when she booked two rooms at the Mandeville Hotel. “Well, you…your records are incorrect. We’re here on a professional trip and…and we need two rooms.” “Again, I apologize but we’re completely booked for the conference and the museum opening.” The clerk offered Nigel the door card. “This is all we have left. It’s a very nice suite, our best accommodation.” Sydney rolled her eyes. “It doesn’t matter, Nigel.” “But…No!” It had been a hellish few weeks since their last trip to London and he was in no mood for incompetence. Nigel turned back to the clerk. “Who made that reservation?” “Well, we did have the original reservation made by a Karen Petrusky.” “What do you mean, original?” “Well, it was changed by…” Sydney reached past Nigel and accepted the card. “Never mind, it doesn’t matter.” She grabbed his arm, giving him barely the time to grab her case. “As long as it has a shower and a bed I’ll be happy.” Nigel followed her into the elevator. “I’m sorry, Syd. I don’t understand how they could have mixed it up.” Sydney pressed the button to take them to their floor. “It’s okay, Nigel. I’m sure there was probably just a mistake in the reservation.” Nigel scowled. He had wanted to make this trip as stress free as he could for Sydney , which was why he specifically asked Karen to make sure they had separate rooms. She didn’t need him interfering in her private time. He knew something was her. She had been irritable and acting strangely since his reunion. She was still Sydney , of course and she still taught her classes and they went on hunts, but she was off her game. They’d been on three hunts, all of them life threatening and difficult, but on the last one, they lost the relic and Sydney had been livid. It was a stupid mistake, not looking where she should have been and Nigel felt just as badly for not picking up on the error and warning her, but he had been more concerned about what was bothering her than the hunt itself and he had missed it. Now he regretted it because she was still upset over a loss that really neither of them could have controlled. They were both used to more intricate traps, something as simple as a misplaced stone that released a container of acid over the relic was not something they had been thinking of. Who wants to destroy the very thing they are trying to hide and protect? They stepped out onto their floor, walked to the end of the corridor and Sydney slid the card into the reader. She tossed the card onto the small table by the door as they walked in, and her satchel on the floor next to it. She was already kicking of her shoes and pulling off her leather coat. Nigel set their bags down and stared at the surrounding suite, alarmed. The room was outfitted in a barrage of pinks, reds and cream. A small sitting area and entertainment centre in the lower half of the suite and…His eyes widened at step up platform that held an enormous heart-shaped bed in red satin sheets and a thick duvet and matching pillow shams. The smell of roses from the flowers in the room was almost overpowering. “Good grief!” he muttered, wondering how the hell he was going to sleep in that bed with Sydney . There were even white rose petals sprinkled on each of the pillows of the bed. He looked at the antique red velvet chaise and more modern sofa. Neither looked very comfortable. “Nigel,” Sydney said, interrupting his thoughts as she turned her back to him and pulled her hair up. He glanced at her, confused for a moment, and then pulled down the zipper on her grey top. “Thanks,” she said as walked away, slipped the top off and tossed it onto the bed. “Can you bring me my bag?” Nigel tore his eyes away from her, standing in just her skirt and black lace bra, and quickly brought her bag over to her. She did it to him all the time; you’d think he’d be used to it by now, but no. His hormones still kicked into overdrive at the site of a half naked Sydney fox, quickly followed by a barrage of self-incriminating guilt for thinking that way about his employer and best friend. Sydney tossed the case on the bed, pulled it open and retrieved a change of clothes and some toiletries. “I’m gonna take a shower.” “Okay.” She paused at the entrance of the bathroom. “Nigel, come here!” “Look at this killer bathroom!” As she stepped down into the bathroom her bare feet sunk deliciously into the plush rose-coloured carpet and her smile widened as she headed over to the Jacuzzi. “Forget the shower, I’m having this!” Nigel smirked and regarded the large mirrored shower in the corner, two ivory pedestal sinks and a small toilet and bidet that made up the rest of the bathroom. “It’s…nice,” he agreed and started to focus on her again, then realized she had pealed off her skirt and was in the process of pinning her hair up. He quickly turned away. “Um…I…I’ll put our things away.” “Order us something to eat, too,” Sydney requested as she quickly turned on the jets of the Jacuzzi, then slipped off the rest off her clothes and climbed into the swirling water. “Oh, Nige. You should get in. It’s heaven!” Nigel paused in the doorway of the bathroom and willed himself not to look back. “Perhaps later. What…um…what do you feel like eating?” “I don’t care. I’m starving, so whatever you want.” He nodded and closed the door. He walked over to phone by the bed, found the menu and dialled up room service. He ordered them a couple of pasta dishes and some sodas then hung up the phone as a knock sounded at the door. “That was fast,” he murmured and moved to open it. An older man with white hair and a thick moustache stood behind a trolley cart that held a bottle of champagne, propped in a full bucket of ice, complete with a single rose and two large dishes of fresh strawberries and cream. “For the happy couple, compliments of the hotel, Sir.” “Oh, no, but we’re…” Nigel began but the old man had already wheeled the cart in and placed it in the centre of the room. “Shall I open the champagne for you, Sir?” “What?” Nigel was still flustered by the thought everyone in the hotel thought he and Sydney were married. “Um…No. there’s been a mistake, you see and…” “Would you prefer another type of fruit or perhaps a different bottle of champagne?’ the man lifted up the bottle and studied it. “ It is a very good year, sir.” Nigel opened his mouth several times and then decided, to hell with it. “Yes, I’m sure it is.” He pulled out some money from his pocket. “Thank you, we…we’ll open it later.” The man smiled and accepted the money. “Enjoy your evening, sir.” Nigel doubted that he’d be enjoying it in quite the way the old man expected. He leaned against the door and wondered if he might be able to find a room in another hotel. It wasn’t that he minded sharing a room with Sydney , they’d done it before, but the last time had resulted in a few awkward moments that had confused the hell out of him and he didn’t want a repeat of that, certainly not in a room set out for romance and other activities. He moved away from the door and picked up the coat Sydney had draped over the back of the sofa, and then realized he still had his coat on. The black leather Sydney had purchased for him on their last trip was so comfortable he often forgot he was wearing it, though he never wore it on a hunt, he didn’t want it ruined. He hung both coats on the brass rack by the door and headed back to the bed, where he put their clothes in the accommodating oak wardrobe, along with Sydney’s extra skirt suit and a couple of her dresses next to the one suit he had brought just in case. Sydney may decide to go to the museum’s opening of a new Persian exhibit, or the diner and dance after the conference. Usually they didn’t attend such things, they were almost always too busy, but they might have the time this trip, so it was better to be prepared if she decided she wanted to go out for an evening. He settled down on the bed and tried to decide what else to do. He spotted the remote on the bedside table and picked it up. He pressed a button labelled TV and the oak entertainment over in the living area opened to reveal a Plasma TV that could be seen easily from the bed. “Well, at least we get some perks,” he decided. He brushed the petals off one of the pillows and propped it against his head as he pulled his feel up onto the bed in a more comfortable position. “Let’s see what movie stations they have.” He pressed another button on the remote and was appalled when the room was suddenly filled with a couple on the TV having very lively sex. “Oh God!” he frantically started pushing the remote buttons, trying to turn it off before Sydney came out, but all he succeeded in doing was increasing the volume. “Shut off! Shut off, you bloody…” Suddenly the bed started vibrating beneath him and he squealed in alarm. “No, nonononononono…” He finally managed to get the volume on the TV muted, but the picture was still on the screen. He heard Sydney call out to him. “Nigel? You okay?” “Um…fine, just fine!” he called back, frantically slapping at the remote while trying to get off the gyrating bed. “T...take your time, no rush!” The stereo suddenly blasted out the music of Chopin. Bloody hell! “Everything’s fine out here!” He called again as he hit a button and the TV shut off. “Just stay in there, for God’s sake,” he muttered as the drapes on the floor length window opened and closed and his now sweating hands lost the remote, resulting in him chasing the damned thing around the enormous bed because the vibration kept moving it out of his reach. He heard Sydney at the bathroom door and dove for the remote, managed to hit the buttons that stopped the bed vibration and the stereo, but couldn’t stop his momentum as he rolled off the bed. “Nigel?” Sydney asked as she opened the bathroom door and stood there wrapped in a large, fluffy towel. Nigel bounced up from the floor and tossed the remote back on the bed “Here, Syd.” She scowled perplexed. “I heard some noises, are you okay?” “Me? I’m fine, just fine, more then fine. I mean why wouldn’t I be? Uh…How was your soak?” “Good.” “Good, good.” He quickly moved away from the demon bed and over to the cart. “We’re both fine then. Um…strawberry?” Sydney grinned, surprised. “Nigel,” she purred, pleased as she walked over and accepted a berry off the dish he offered. “You ordered champagne?” “Um…no. Compliments of the hotel apparently.” Sydney hid her disappointment, dipped the berry in the cream and popped it into her mouth. “Did you order some food?” “Yes, should be here any minute.” “Okay, I’ll get changed then.” She grabbed another berry and then, on her walk back to the bathroom, spotted the remote. “Oh, we should see if they have any good movies…” Nigel had never moved so fast in his life. “No!” Sydney looked at him, startled as he practically snatched the remote before she could reach it. “Why not?” “I…it’s late. We…we wouldn’t want to disturb the other guests.” Sydney raised an eyebrow. “Nigel, it’s not even four in the afternoon.” “Well, yes, of course, but… London is a city that never sleeps and…and some people may still be sleeping after a rousing night on the town.” Sydney shook her head and moved into the bedroom. “I think you do need to soak, Nigel. You’re way too tense.” Nigel waited until she had closed the bathroom door, and then quickly shoved the remote under the bed. Why him?
IIIIIIII
Sydney stared into her glass of wine, blocking out the conversation at the table as the lyrics of a familiar song filled the room and stirred something inside her. She was not usually a sentimental person, but somehow at this particular moment, it was as if the female singer was reading her mind.
I hear the ticking of the clock No answer on the telephone
She liked having company, but she was mostly contented living her life and didn’t mind spending her nights alone. She had always been comfortable with her own company. She wasn’t someone who needed a vast social life to be content.
Till now I always got by on my own She wondered when it had changed, really changed to the point where she became eager for the hunts, not for the relic, but because she would be going on them with Nigel. She’d always loved teaching and was eager to rise and start the day with her students, but knowing Nigel would be there waiting for her at the University, added an extra bounce in her step, an extra smile on her face each morning.
Her eyes scanned the room and she spotted Nigel chatting with a pretty young woman over by the refreshment table. He’d been tense all day, so she thought a night on the town would relax him. She decided they should go to the museum opening, where Nigel ran into a few college mates, who invited them out for drinks. So, here she sat, ignoring the others at the table, and thinking of Nigel.
Like the woman singing, she wanted to get Nigel alone,. She smirked and realized they spent most of their time alone but together, and she still didn’t have the courage to tell him how she felt. She’d been thinking about her feelings for him ever since Nigel’s reunion. The question Preston has asked her, one she never answered, foremost in her mind. How long have you been in love with my brother?
Sydney shivered as if a cold draft filtered past her shoulders and she pulled her shawl up around them, wishing that she had an answer for the question that was now taunting her. Many questions were taunting her lately, so much so that she could hardly think straight. She’d been making stupid mistakes and it was causing her to doubt her own judgement. All she was thinking about lately was Nigel.
How could she tell Nigel what she was feeling, when there was a chance it would ruin things between them? He was already acting nervous around her, did he suspect? How did she tell him? Should she tell him, or would this feeling she had eventually go away? She frowned and stared into her drink again. It wasn’t going away. So what should she do?
“Syd?” She glanced up to find Nigel standing beside her chair, his hand in offering as the song changed to ‘I Can’t Fight This Feeling’ by REO Speedwagon. She smiled and rose as she accepted his hand. They moved onto the dance floor and she slid into his arms easily. They had danced many times before and knew exactly how to move with each other. “Are you horribly bored?” Nigel murmured in her ear and pulled back in time to see her smile. “The night just improved greatly.” When they danced, Nigel always tried to keep a bit of space between them, probably out of politeness more than anything else, and Sydney could feel him tense in surprise when the hand she had placed on his shoulder became her arm as she slid it around his neck. She touched her cheek to his. Nigel adjusted his hand at her back to bring them closer. “So it has,” he agreed. “I love this song.” Nigel had never cared for it, until now. “Me too.” “I’m glad things worked out for you, Nigel.” “What things are they?” She pulled back enough to meet his gaze. “You know, this whole fear over your school thing.” They really hadn’t talked about their last trip. “That wasn’t fear, it was hate, two very different things.” “Still, you have to admit it’s better to know the truth after all this time?” “I reckon.” “And you remembered you weren’t as miserable as you thought when you came here.” Nigel sighed. “Yes, yes, good, good. Can we move onto another topic, Dr. Ruth?” “She gives sex advice, Nigel.” She grinned and raised her eyebrows, innocently. “Is there something you’d like to discuss regarding your…?” “No!” Nigel flushed to the very top of his hair. “I have nothing to discuss in …that area.” “You’re sure? I’m willing to listen. You can tell me anyth...” Nigel pinched her side and she yelped in surprise. “Ow! What was that for?” “For being a prat.” “I am not a prat!” “You’re acting like one,” Nigel retorted, his eyes dancing in amusement, even as his fingers lightly caressed the area he had pinched. “Behave yourself or I shall do it again.” Sydney turned her cheek away and rested her chin on his shoulder. “Don’t sulk.” “Shut up.” “I’m sorry.” “I’m gonna have a bruise.” “You are not!” he laughed as the song ended. “I hardly touched you.” She pulled back and set her hands on her hips, her expression furious but her eyes sparkling with laughter. “I’m sensitive!” “Bullox! I’ve seen you be dragged behind a bloody horse, tossed out of an aeroplane and brawling with a man three times your size, you didn’t even break a nail.” Sydney tried to keep up the charade but she ended up laughing at Nigel’s totally befuddled expression. She linked her arm through his. “Fine then, just treat me like one of the guys.” “That would be impossible.” She smiled, pleased. “Really? Why?” “You could beat up any of the guys I know.” She smacked at his arm. “You ass.” “Actually, would you mind if we headed back to the hotel? I’m getting pretty tired.” Nigel groaned inwardly. Back to that horrid boudoir of sin? “No, of course not.” He retrieved her wrap from the back of the chair and draped it around her shoulders. “I’ll just go tell Hans.” In a guilty moment, Sydney caught his hand as he started to turn away. “Nigel?” He turned back to her and waited. “If…if you want to stay and catch up with your friends…I mean you haven’t seen them in years and I can get a cab back.” “Don’t be ridiculous, I’d much rather go home with you.” He squeezed her hand and then released it. “Be back in a moment.” Sydney tried not to read too much into his words, but she couldn’t help the surge of hope that spread through her. When they arrived back at the hotel, Nigel immediately moved to the balcony doors and pulled them open, so the night time sounds of London could filter in. “You don’t mind do you?” he asked as Sydney set her purse on the dresser and pulled the pins out of her hair so that it fell in dark chocolate waves about her shoulders. “It isn’t too cold?” She shook her head. “No, it’s a reasonably warm night.” She wondered if Nigel was homesick, and if he needed to drink in as much of the flavour of his home as he could when they were there. “Do you miss living here?” she asked as she sat on the sofa and pulled off her shoes, massaging her feet with relief. “Sometimes,” he admitted as he shrugged out of his suit jacket and draped it over the chaise. “But I like being at the university, it feels like home too now.” Sydney grinned, pleased and moved to pick up the room phone. “Hungry? We can order room service.” It had been hours since they last ate, other than a few canopies at the museum. Nigel removed his tie. “Sure, something sweet with it. Cake or pudding maybe?” She nodded and resisted telling him that she had something very sweet to give him, if he was up for it. She placed their order and then grabbed her green nightgown and makeup case. “I’m gonna change into something a little less confining.” Nigel allowed himself a quick appraisal of her backless black sequenced dress. “That doesn’t strike me as confining.” “It’s a little snug,” she admitted and patted her stomach. “I ate too many pigs in a blanket at the museum. More food requires more room to breathe.” “Well, if you must you must.” he replied with a hinting note of regret. Sydney paused, looked back at him, then smiled and headed towards the bathroom. “I take it you approve of my dress?” He approved of the person in it even more. “As if you didn’t notice that every male eye was on you the minute you walked into the museum, as well as the club afterwards.” “Your eyes weren’t,” she tossed, cheekily. “As I recall they were glued to a petite blond bombshell in a little red silk number.” Nigel flushed and wanted to tell her that his eyes had hardly moved from her all evening, he was just better at being discrete and not getting caught. “Well, I pretty much have you memorized, I don’t need to look as often.” He winced inwardly as he realized how horribly sinful that sounded. “Um…what…what I mean is…” “Memorized, huh?” She dropped her change of clothes on the bed and walked over to him. “Close your eyes.” “What?” “Close your eyes, I want to see how good your memory is.” “Oh, God. Must we do this?” “Close ‘em!” Nigel closed his eyes and sighed at his own stupidity. “You know I babble, why do you pay any attention to anything I say?” “What color are my eyes?” “Dark brown.” “What colour shoes was I wearing?” “Syd…” “What colour shoes, Nigel?” “The black ones with the silver tips.” “What jewellery?” Nigel crossed his arms over his chest, but kept his eyes closed. “The single strand silver earrings and your diamond tennis bracelet.” “What necklace?” “You aren’t wearing one.” Sydney pursed her lips impressed. “What colour is my eye shadow?” “I don’t know, you wear that shade that looks like you aren’t wearing any.” He growled again. “Can we stop now?” “No. Do I have any scars or moles that you care to elaborate on?” Nigel played it safe. “None that I care to elaborate on.” “Meaning I don’t have any or you’re choosing not to answer?” “Yes.” She grinned. “Nigel!” He opened his eyes and glared at her. “You have a scar on your lower back just above your right hip where you got sliced by Kafka’s hooked hand two years ago. There’s another, smaller scar on the left side of your abdomen from where you were shot by Tsarlov’s henchman almost three years ago and you have a birthmark on your right ankle.” Sydney blinked, shocked. “Anything else?” “Yes, you have a mark just above your right knee, but I don’t know what that is from.” “I fell off my bike when I was eight.” “Right then, are we done?” He really had memorized her. Of course, most of those scars he was right there with her when she got them, but still. The scar on her knee was almost invisible unless you knew to look for it and no one ever noticed the birthmark on her ankle. Someone knocked on their door and Nigel went to answer it, relieved. Sydney stood there for a few moments longer, watching him tip the man for bringing up their meal and wheeled the tray inside. She couldn’t believe he knew her that well. No one knew her that well. “ Sydney ?” She turned towards him, dazed. “Look, I…I’m sorry. I don’t mean to notice those things, I just do and with my memory once I see something well…it sticks.” He made himself busy by pulling the covers off their dishes. “It doesn’t mean I’m staring at you inappropriately or…or in any way trying to take advantage.” Sydney walked over, stared at him for a moment, and then leaned in and kissed his cheek. “Wh…What was that for?” She shrugged and stole a french-fry off one of the plates. “Be back in a minute.” He nodded and watched her disappear into the bathroom.
|