Gallery Whispers

52

At the same time, on the other side of the city, Kai-en Neville propped herself up and looked at the bronzed, bearded man who lay beside her.

His eyes were closed, but there was a satisfied smile on his face.

'You see,' she murmured. 'I told you there was more where that came from. And more…' she chuckled, 'and more…' She laid a hand on his chest.

'Are you sure you can't stay the night?' she asked. 'You have to admit, my bed's a damn sight more comfortable than that sofa contraption you sleep on.'

'You'll get no argument about that,' said Wayne, opening his eyes, 'but I really gotta get back to Dennis.'

'I thought you said he took a sleeping pill.'

'He does.'

'Well…?'

The Australian looked up at her. 'Well… if you set your alarm and run me home by seven-thirty…'

'It's a deal. That'll leave me plenty of time to get to work.'

'What have you got on tomorrow?' he asked. 'Is it that marketing seminar you talked about?'

She frowned, thought for a few moments, then reached a decision.

'No, it's not,' she said, then reached across and switched on the bedside light, so that he could see her eyes. 'Wayne, I've got a confession to make. I told you a lie.'

'What,' he laughed, 'you mean you really are gay after all?'

'Silly bugger. No, I'm not; and I'm not a freelance conference organiser either. I'm a copper, detective sergeant. I'm on the staff of the Head of CID in Police Headquarters in Fettes Avenue.'

He whistled. 'A bizzy, eh.' He leaned forward and nuzzled her breasts with his forehead. 'And what are these girls? Traffic Wardens.'

She pushed him away. 'Wayne, be serious for a minute. I'm not kidding.'

'You mean you really are a copper?'

'Yes, and if you say anything about working undercover-'

'So why the story about being a conference organiser?'

She giggled, in spite of herself. 'Because I really was working undercover. We had a big security crisis on. The heat's off now, though.

The whole business was a false alarm, and I'm back in my normal job, so now I can be straight with you.'

'Appreciated.'

'You're not angry, are you?'

Wayne shook his head and grinned at her. 'Course not, girl. It's exciting; I've never been with a copper before. A couple of girl soldiers, yes, but never a plain-clothes police officer. Hey, maybe I should tell you about my real identity.'

'I know your real identity.' He frowned for a second. 'You're Wayne Ventnor, you work for Blaydon Oil on an installation off Western Australia, and you're recovering from a broken ankle. I can tell you that for sure.'

'You checked me out?'

She decided to economise with the truth. 'Mario, my boss, did.

You're not alone though; it was a pretty wide sweep. But, like I said, the panic's over. Now we can have a normal relationship.'

'As far as that's possible when your partner's liable to run off chasing bank robbers at all hours of the night.'

'That won't happen. As I said, I'm on the Head of CID's staff; I hardly ever get involved in the active stuff. My job involves coordinating between operating divisions; I'm in the office nearly all the time.'

'Except when you're scrutinising economists.'

'That was a one-off, honest.'

'Great.' He laughed again. 'Wait till I tell smelly Dennis that he was a security risk for a while.'

'Wayne,' she said, her face serious, 'you mustn't mention this to anyone. Promise me.'

'Okay, sarge,' the Australian replied. 'I promise.' He reached back and switched off the light, then slid his arm around her naked waist.

'And now, come here. It's time for some more of that undercover investigation.'