Minding Amy

The uniformed man turned toward her, peering at her haughtily over his half-moon spectacles. "Yes, Madam?"

He regarded her with the steady calm of a man who knew he had the keys to her sleeping area when she was tired and far from home.

Deal with it. She was a City News journalist on a mission. She needed her own space. "Hello, I have a booking but if it at all possible I'd like to alter it."

It was the right thing to do. She couldn't afford to be distracted by Sebastian's presence any more, and she couldn't afford to fall in love with him along the way. Hang on, her inner voice inte

rrupted. Love?

Confusion and panic sped through her veins. Where the hell had that notion come from? She couldn't afford to fall in love.

The man moved his fingers over the keyboard of his computer and tickled the mouse with a nonchalant hand. "Name?"

"Norton." Just as she prepared to explain the bedding situation, the man's eyes became fixed on the mid distance. She turned to follow his gaze. As she did a loud bang followed by a bloodcurdling scream echoed through the reception area.

Amy's heart tripped. What the…?

Several of the guests in the reception area had risen to their feet. An eerie silence descended. Amy pressed back against the wall of the reception desk, her fingers clutching at it for support. Everything in the reception area froze, all heads turned toward a doorway opening into another lounge area. As if bidden by their stares, an elderly man staggered out toward them. The hairs on the back of Amy's neck stood up. His hand was clutched his chest, a trickle of blood oozing through his fingers. His eyes were fixed, his mouth open in an expression of horror.

"The assailant must have headed into the gardens, that way," a man with a large handlebar moustache declared, pointing back at the lounge area.

Amy stared at the injured man staggering toward the reception, as if trying to exit the building before he collapsed. She felt dizzy, sick. The room started to spin. His hand was clenched over his heart, the blood now spreading in a patch across his shirt.

"Amy."

Sebastian. His voice reached her just as Amy crumpled against the reception desk and blacked out.

Chapter Fourteen

"I'm terribly sorry, sir," mumbled the bespectacled receptionist.

Sebastian ignored him. The man had been offering constant apologies for the past minute and a half, as if he was afraid Sebastian might be about to sue the establishment.

"It was uncanny that you arrived just as the murder mystery weekend party reached its crescendo." The man gave a nervous smile. "I have to confess we've had an incident like this before, that's why we clearly post the event outside, warning people the event is happening."

Sebastian nodded. He'd spotted the signs announcing "Tall Gables, home of the legendary Agatha Christie Murder Mystery Getaways," on the way in. An additional banner had been pasted on the billboard stating: "August Murder Mystery IN ACTION NOW."

Amy hadn't seen it, obviously.

She'd got all fidgety before they arrived then she'd shot right past the sign at breakneck speed. Sebastian looked down at her with concern. She looked so beautiful, lying there with a cushion under her head, her face pale but relaxed. He wanted their former intimacy restored. The car journey had been downright painful. He'd vowed to be business-like then she'd turned up looking so bloody hot he couldn't think straight. Then the more he'd tried to get them on stable ground the more upset she had looked. And now here they were and he was worried sick about her.

The receptionist kept offering banal platitudes from beyond but he ignored them. He didn't give a damn why it had happened, he just wanted to wrap her in his arms and take care of her.

"Could you all please back off and give her some air," he demanded, loudly, at the small crowd of curious onlookers. The fainting incident apparently held as much interest for the spectators as did their murder mystery, but the fainting incident was a real-life drama, the other was mere entertainment.

"Sorry old chap," said a man with a handlebar moustache.

He had to be part of the ridiculous fake murder set up, Sebastian thought to himself, shaking his head. Thankfully, the handlebar took the lead and ushered the other guests away.

"Sebastian?"

She was coming round. Sebastian leaned over her. Her rich brown eyes flickered open, a small frown gathering on her forehead as she squinted up at him.

Relief flooded through Sebastian. "It's okay, it's one of those murder mystery events and you walked into the middle of it, poor sweetheart."

"Oh no, but…" She frowned then her expression lifted. "Oh, have I made an idiot of myself all over again?"

"You're adorable," he murmured, unable to hold the words back.