Fly with Me (2 page)

“Definitely
wouldn’t be singing here then, would she?”

“Guess not.”
But then the entertainment industry wasn’t easy to get into, so
maybe- His gaze flashed back to her face as the music died
away.

“That’s it,
folks!” she called out. “Thanks for a great time!”

There were
hollers of disappointment, pleadings to do another song, but with a
laugh and shake of her head, the woman disappeared through a door
in the side of the stage.

The band
started playing again but without her dulcet tones it was
definitely missing something for Simon. He glanced around the bar,
watching for her appearance.

“No use
looking.” The barman appeared as if by magic. “Lis doesn’t come out
into the bar after she sings.”

“Where does
she go?”

The barman
tapped his finger against the side of his nose.

Great, she
wouldn’t be appearing. Feeling as though he’d lost something he’d
never even known about, Simon stood and stretched. “Well, if that
voice of an angel isn’t going to come on again tonight, then I’m
going to bed.” He glanced at the barman. “Is she coming back out
again?”

“Nope. When
she says ‘that’s it’, that’s it.”

Damn. With a
mental shrug, Simon walked through the crowd and out onto the
street. He couldn’t help glancing around but there was no sign of
the woman, or if there was, she was lost in the crowd of people who
spilled out to stand in groups talking, walking away, a couple
getting a little antsy with each other and shoving.

Definitely
time to leave, he wasn’t interested in getting involved in a
drunken brawl.

Taking the
elevator up to the fourth floor, he walked along the balcony until
he came to his room. Everything was deserted, no signs of life.
This particular section of the hotel was empty, the rooms being
redecorated. His had already been done and he didn’t mind being on
his own on this side of the fourth floor, so the hotel had happily
rented him the room. Personally he liked the silence after the roar
and bustle of the city, the intensity of the course he attended
during the day, and the crowd below in the bar.

Simon showered
before flopping onto the bed, slipping on his reading glasses while
simultaneously picking up his book and the remote control to flick
on the TV. If it wasn’t for the weather forecast telling him it was
raining outside right now he wouldn’t have known. Back home he’d
have heard it clearly on the tin roof.

Now that made
him a little homesick. Still, he only had a couple more days to go
before he headed for home.

He read some
of the book before removing his glasses and setting them on the
bedside chest of drawers to watch a popular cop show on TV while
munching on an apple. When he finally turned everything off and
went to sleep, his dreams were filled with a sparkling smile and a
lush body that swayed seductively enough to have him waking less
than two hours later with heat in his groin and his pulse thumping
a little heavier.

Yep, the woman
had definitely affected him. That hadn’t happened in awhile.

Switching on
the bedside lamp, he got up, grabbed a bottle of water from the
little ‘fridge and crossed to the window, pushing it open the small
amount it allowed to let in the rain-washed air, breathing deeply,
only to grimace a little as the smell of exhaust fumes carried
along with it.

Man, he missed
home. There the wind-washed rain would carry the scent of the
bush.

Looking out at
the lights of cars thickly dotting the highway, he wondered if the
mysterious woman drove one of them, had her own driver, or even had
a boyfriend or husband who took her home.

Taking a sip
of water, he stared out at the lights for a long time.

Slowly he
became aware of something else, a soft sound at first, growing
steadily before drifting off and restarting.

Someone was
crying.

He looked at
the door of his room. Whoever was crying was doing it on the
balcony, and whoever it was, was crying like their heart would
break.

It wasn’t his
business, people cried for all kinds of reasons, but what worried
him was that no one apart from him was supposed to be up in this
section of the hotel…and the fact that the balcony opened into the
night air.

Crossing to
the door, he placed his ear to it and listened.

Yep,
definitely someone sobbing, and that someone sounded female. He
listened for other voices, a male voice of a reassuring boyfriend
maybe, or a female friend. Sister. Husband. Anything, really, that
proclaimed the crier as not being alone.

There was
nothing but the lone crying.

Shit.

Running a hand
through his hair, he sighed. Nope, he couldn’t just go back to bed.
Not without taking a peek to see if the crier was okay and not in
danger of maybe flinging herself off the balcony. God knew what was
making her cry.

Opening the
door a fraction, he peeked through to see a figure sitting on the
balcony floor, her back against the wall, the rail well above her.
Her elbows were propped on her drawn-up knees, her forehead resting
in her hands, head down as she just cried her eyes out.

Bugger.

Closing the
door quietly, Simon took a mouthful of water, set the bottle on the
little bench, crossed to the small table in the corner where his
discarded jeans lay and pulled them on. Padding barefoot to the
fridge, he retrieved another bottle of water, picked up his bottle
and moved to the door. Opening it, he stepped out onto the
balcony.

The woman -
girl, for all he knew - just kept crying like her heart was
breaking. Was he coming across a broken heart? Wounded heart?
Despair?

He glanced
around. Nope, no one lurked nearby, the dimly-lit balcony with the
rooms running down one side and the waist high wall with a rail
atop it on the other side, was entirely deserted except for himself
and the crier.

Moving across
to stand beside her, he studied her. No smell of alcohol. Fair hair
pulled into a thick, tight bun at the back of her head. In the
dimness her blouse was pale, and he could see a pair of shapely
feet in strappy gold sandals, neat little toes with the short nails
painted some kind of pearly colour.

Coming down
onto one knee beside her, but not too close, he asked quietly,
“Ma’am, are you all right?”

The woman
froze, but the sobs didn’t. They still shook her even as she
visibly tried to hold them back.

“Ma’am, it’s
all right,” Simon continued soothingly. “I’m here alone, there’s no
one else with me. You’re safe, I won’t hurt you.”

She shifted
her knees closer to her. Unfortunately, because of her sweetly
rounded figure, she couldn’t press her knees flat to her chest. Not
to mention she had an impressive bosom that also made it
impossible. Slowly she lowered her hands from he forehead and
tilted her head back to look up at him.

“Here’s some
water.” Simon held it out to her. “Can I call someone for you?”

Her face
appeared out of the shadows, relief filling him when her eyes
appeared normal, no pin-prick of narcotics, but then he registered
her features and could only lift his eyebrows in surprise. Holy
cow, it was the singer from the bar.

Her pretty
face no longer shone with happiness, her lips no longer formed
words that flowed so passionately. Instead those lush pillows
trembled, her tip-tilted nose was pink at the tip, and her cheeks
were wet with tears.

He was still
looking at her in surprise when she answered in a shaky voice, “I’m
fine. Thank you.”

Realising that
he was probably unnerving her, a woman by herself in a deserted
corridor with a strange man, Simon gave the bottle of water a
little shake. “Ma’am, this bottle hasn’t been opened, it’s sealed
and clean. I reckon a drink might be what you need right now.”

Placing her
hands by her sides, she looked from him to the bottle, another sob
almost breaking free even as she finally whispered, “Thanks” and
took it from him with trembling hands.

He watched her
struggle with the cap for several seconds, saw the tear slip down
her cheek and shook his head. Reaching out, he gently brushed her
fingers aside from the cap and twisted it open himself, cracking
the seal easily before withdrawing his hand and watching her take a
small sip.

Dealing with
weepy women was something he’d had experience with, being a fire
fighter meant being around some heartbroken and distraught people a
lot of times. Patiently he waited while she took another sip,
giving her time to gather her composure.

She shifted
her legs down a little, taking a hiccuping breath before placing
the water bottle by her side and plucking a tissue from her pocket.
Giving her nose a hearty blow that left the tip shinier than ever,
she cleared her throat and finally looked up at him out of big,
brown, sad eyes. “Thank you.”

“You’re
welcome.” He held out his hand. “I’m Simon.”

She stared at
his hand for several seconds before placing her much smaller one in
his. “Lis.”

“Pleased to
meet you, Lis.” He gave her hand a gentle, brief shake before
resting his palm on his knee.

“I’m sorry I
disturbed you.” She wiped her eyes with her arm, using her sleeve
to smooth the tears away.

That was kind
of adorable, in a sad way.

“It’s
okay.”

Her laugh was
small, unexpected, a little broken. “Gallant knight.”

“Pardon?”

“It’s one in
the morning. Being disturbed isn’t okay.”

“Well now.” He
smiled easily. “Depends on your perception.”

Questioningly,
she looked at him.

“I was up
having a drink while looking out the window at the view.”

“Ah.” She took
another mouthful of water.

Silence fell
between them for several minutes.

“Are you sure
there isn’t anyone I can call for you, Ma’am?” Simon asked.

“No, it’s all
good. And please call me Lis.”

“Lis.” His
wrist resting on his raised knee, he dangled his water bottle by a
loose grip on the top. “You’re staying in one of these rooms?”

“What? No.”
She shook her head. “I just came up here for some peace and quiet.
In fact, I thought this floor was deserted.”

“This section
is, but I needed a room and this one was the only one vacant.
Luckily for me it was also finished being redecorated, so the
management put me in here.” He flashed her a smile. “I got the
brand new room. New bed, new TV, new everything.”

Her answering
smile was watery but it was there, for which he was grateful.

“So, Lis.”
Turning himself, he sat down beside her, leaning back against the
wall. The cold of the cement against his bare skin wasn’t exactly
nice, but he ignored it. Just as he ignored the way she started in
surprise, stiffening as he settled beside her. “Want to talk about
it?” He took a mouthful of water more to show her that he wasn’t
planning anything but sitting, than because he needed it.

The way he was
drinking this water he’d be busting for a leak soon, but what the
hell, he couldn’t just leave her.

Leaning his
head back against the wall, Simon waited quietly. In his peripheral
vision he could see her studying him. He didn’t move, just reclined
against the wall, hid the shiver that went through him, waited
patiently.

Okay, he had
to admit to being curious, too, but first of all he had to win her
trust, even if it was just a little bit.

Lis shifted,
looking down at the bottle in her hands, picking at the label with
her fingers. “No, I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay.”

More silence.
She sighed, rested her head back against the wall, still picked at
the label, carefully peeling it off in tiny strips.

Time stretched
between them. Now he could smell her scent, light and floral, the
warmth of her body even though there was at least fifteen inches
between them. He had to fight the surprising urge to slip his arm
around her shoulders and pull her into his side, tell her to rest
her head against his shoulder and tell him all about it.

Jesus, the
lateness of the night - or earliness of the morning, take your pick
- must be messing with his head. Probably still had the remnants of
her singing soothing his brain and making him a bit mushy.

There was a
conversation starter. “Heard you in the pub earlier.”

“Is that why
you’re out here?”

Startled, he
glanced sideways at her. “What?”

“You looked
out, saw who I was?” Now she was looking directly at him, her chin
raised a little defensively.

Oh, this was
not happening. Turning his head fully, Simon looked her right in
the eyes. “I looked out, you had your face hidden, I came anyway. I
came out because there was a woman alone, crying, and I thought she
might need some help.”

She glared at
him.

He kept his
gaze steady, honest.

Suddenly her
cheeks flushed. “I’m sorry. Shit.” Slumping back against the wall,
Lis rolled the cold water bottle across her forehead as she closed
her eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s
okay.”

“No. I’m such
a
bitch
at times.” There was a definite wobble in her voice.
“I’m so sorry, Simon, that was lousy of me.”

Rather than
try to excuse it, he replied, “Rough night, huh?”

He could
actually hear her swallow. “Yeah.”

“You looked
happy in the bar.”

“I like to
sing.”

“I could tell.
You’ve got a beautiful voice.”

“Thanks.” Her
grip on the water bottle tightened, the plastic bending a little.
“I do like to sing.”

Something
wasn’t right. Turning his head, he looked fully at her. “But?”

“What makes
you think there’s a ‘but’?”

“You were
happy tonight, you sing like an angel, and just a couple of hours
later you’re sitting in front of my door crying. Boyfriend
trouble?”