The Everywhere Man Read online

  There, he held her with his eyes as he ordered their coffee, paid for it, and handed her cup over with a friendly, normal smile. Alix dearly wanted to throw it in his face, but she could hardly do so in this crowd. When he gestured towards the ring where the U.D. — Utility Dog — trials were about to start, she moved along with him despite her inner seething.

  CHAPTER THREE

  ‘Quinn! Darling!’ Both Quinn Tennant and Alix turned at the voice, she in curiosity and the man himself with obvious pleasure.

  The woman who strode up and threw her arms around Quinn Tennant’s neck was about Alix’s height, but perhaps a bit more slender. She had quite long, wavy dark brown hair and eyes of the same colour that fairly sparkled with pleasure. Her beauty was not classic, but she had excellent bones, a broad, rather sensuous mouth and small even teeth.

  It was the sensuous mouth that reached up to meet Quinn Tennant’s as his arms slid around the woman’s waist to lift her close against him.

  ‘Michelle! I thought you were in Brisbane this weekend,’ he replied, but not until they had kissed for what seemed to Alix an inappropriately lengthy interval.

  ‘Obvious y,’ the woman replied with an arch of her tidy eyebrows. ‘Aren’t you going to introduce me to your ... friend?’

  Ha! Let’s see him get out of this one, Alix thought. But even as she did so, he had turned to introduce the two women.

  ‘Michelle Keir ... Alix McLean,’ he said, and as Alix stood there, her mouth half open in astonishment, he continued, ‘Alix is up from Melbourne, and you’ll have to excuse her expression. She’s just had a bit of bad luck with Nick, here, in the open class.’

  Alix was stunned. How could he possibly know her name, and that she was from Melbourne? Pondering this, she could only nod in reply to the other woman’s greeting as Quinn Tennant went on to explain about Alix having stumbled and Nick responding so disastrously.

  ‘And you, of course, couldn’t make the slightest allowance,’ Michelle Keir chuckled, showing her teeth in a patronising grin. ‘Especially not with one of your precious GSPs involved.’

  He shrugged. ‘Nothing to do with the breed of dog. He broke his stay and that’s all there was to it.’ To Alix’s vague surprise, he continued to describe the problem with no reference at all to either their confrontation or her own ineptness.

  How did he know her name? She thought back, then almost sighed with relief He must have got it from the entry forms ... but when? Being a local judge, he couldn’t help but know some of the competitors, but it wouldn’t be considered ethical for a judge to see the entry list before an event. He should have been operating solely from the entry numbers. It was all too confusing, and Alix found her mind so occupied trying to figure it out that Quinn Tennant had to speak twice to get her attention.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she stammered. ‘I was ... thinking of something.’

  ‘You shouldn’t try to think and walk at the same time,’ he grinned mischievously. ‘You might stumble again.’ Then, ignoring her flush of indignation, ‘I asked how old Nick is.’

  ‘He was three last month,’ Alix replied absently, her mind still whirling madly.

  ‘He’s a very nice-looking dog, for a GSP,’ Michelle Keir murmured politely, and the remark drew a harsh bark of laughter from Quinn Tennant.

  ‘Don’t be catty, Michelle,’ he replied rather sternly, and then spoke to Alix in a tone that seemed rather condescending to the dark-haired woman. ‘Michelle thinks Samoyeds are the only dogs in the world,’ he said. ‘Personally I couldn’t imagine a less suitable animal, especially here in Queensland, but some women have no taste.’

  Somewhat to Alix’s surprise, the other woman laughed gaily at the quip without apparent offence. ‘At least my dogs have some personality,’ she responded. ‘Look at that beast there — he couldn’t care less about people. No offence, Alix, of course.’

  ‘That’s only because he knows damned well he’s a dog and is proud of it,’ Quinn Tennant replied before Alix could say a word. ‘Those Sams of yours are all right in their place, which I might point out is in the Arctic, not subtropical Queensland, but everywhere else they’re nothing but lapdogs. And yours are even worse, because they think they are people.’

  ‘But they are, darling. And no matter how much you stand up for your so-called working gun-dogs, you know very well my Samoyeds are smarter — and nicer — than most people, at least most people I know.’

  ‘Including me,’ he laughed. ‘Not least because I won’t let your eighty-pound horrors up on my lap.’

  ‘True, but I’ll continue to make allowances for you as long as you don’t object to me sitting on your lap,’ replied Michelle, and Alix got the distinct impression the comment was aimed more at herself than at Quinn Tennant, who merely grunted an unreadable response.

  ‘And anyway, Alix doesn’t want to hear about our doggie disagreements,’ Michelle continued. ‘Especially not as she seems just as converted as you are. Tel1 me, Alix, what brings you to Bundaberg?’

  ‘She’s a design draughtsman, or draughtswoman, if you prefer,’ Quinn Tennant replied, and Alix sat dumbfounded as he went on to explain, telling Michelle the company Alix would be working for.

  How could he know that? It simply wasn’t possible, Alix thought, but she had no opportunity to ask because the first entrant in the U.D. competition was entering the ring and Quinn Tennant immediately shushed both women to silence.

  Michelle Keir sat obediently quiet, one arm tucked through Quinn’s and her long, slender fingers stroking his thigh as she ostensibly watched the judging. Despite her internal confusion, Alix found the gesture quite out of place, but she found her eyes constantly drawn to the hypnotic movement of the long-nailed, manicured fingers.

  Certainly this woman considered she had some kind of claim on Quinn Tennant, Alix thought. And welcome to him, at that. Arrogant devil. Not that it explained her own reaction to the warm pressure of his thigh against hers, not to mention the arm so carelessly flung along the bench top behind her.

  How could this man possibly know about her? And worse, how much did he know? Her mind awhirl with speculation and wonder, she didn’t realise for a moment that he had somehow slipped his arm lower, his fingers brushing casually against her shoulder.

  Strange tingles ran through Alix at the touch of those fingers, and she had to restrain the urge to snuggle back against his hand like a cat wanting to be petted. Then her eyes slid down to where Michelle’s lacquered nails still caressed Quinn’s thigh, and she flinched away as if his fingers burned her.

  The nerve of him! Alix shook her head in disbelief at the audacity of a man who could caress one woman while being caressed himself by another. Her anger surged up as her movement broke the physical contact between them, but Quinn seemed not to notice. It wasn’t until Alix spoke, excusing herself, that he turned to look at her.

  ‘You’re leaving so soon?’ Nothing in the words, or those bright green eyes, to reveal his understanding of her intentions. Surely he must have been aware that he was touching her, Alix thought, surprised to find herself equally angry at the thought that he might not have been.

  ‘I really have a great deal to do at home,’ she replied steadily, fighting the urge to avoid his bland eyes. ‘I just moved in yesterday, you see, and 1 still haven’t even unpacked.’

  ‘Don’t badger the girl, Quinn,’ Michelle interrupted, her fingers tightening ever so slightly on his thigh. ‘Just because you can live half your life out of a suitcase it doesn’t mean she has to.’

  It was clear enough to Alix that she represented an unwanted third, and for a second she entertained the quixotic thought of staying on just to spite Michelle Keir. But why, for goodness’ sake? She herself had no interest in Quinn Tennant, and just because the dark-haired woman for some reason set her teeth on edge ...

  ‘And she does, too,’ Alix told a totally uninterested Nick as they drove homeward. She knew very well that the woman’s stylish appearance, especially when contrasted
to her own outfit, certainly had something to do with it, but there was something else involved as well. The woman had a something ... a sort of catty, or better yet, vixenish aura about her. Yes, foxy ... especially around the eyes and those tiny, ever-so-white teeth.

  It was mildly disturbing, because Alix seldom found herself with an instinctive dislike for other women. It would be different, of course, if she fancied Quinn Tennant herself, but despite his unarguable handsomeness, he held no real attraction. And just because he had kissed her once there was no reason to think she held any attraction for him ... him and his presumptuous rain check!

  Nick sprawled out for a nap when they got home, leaving Alix alone to finish unpacking and fix herself a light lunch. But just as she felt like napping, he insisted on being let out.

  ‘All right, but no barking, and no digging, and no disturbing that pretty little bitch in the kennels,’ she said, smiling to herself as the big dog danced his way across the lawn in a beeline toward the third ‘no’. He’d be back in a minute, she thought, sprawling out on the sofa to await his habitual wuffle at the door.

  But it wasn’t Nick’s wuffle that woke her nearly two hours later. It was a bellowing voice, somehow rather familiar, shouting, ‘Nick! Get the hell out of it! Anna! Heel!’

  Startled into a confused wakefulness, Alix threw open the door and dashed out into the yard to find Nick and the liver-coloured bitch chasing madly about, leaping and twisting in frenzied excitement and then trotting side by side with their peculiar, walking-on-eggs gait as they patrolled the boundaries.

  And standing at one corner of the house, Michelle Keir directly behind him with a secretive smirk on her face as he swore at the dashing dogs, was Quinn Tennant.

  ‘Who the hell told you you could let her out of that kennel?’ he demanded as Alix stepped through the doorway, and as she stood there, totally confused, he shouted even louder, ‘Dammit — answer me! You should know better than that.’

  ‘But I ... She couldn’t go on. He was ignoring her, reaching out to grab his bitch as she pranced up to sit facing him, tongue lolling out in welcome. Then Nick, too, wheeled into line and sat, one paw uplifted in the shake-hands gesture Alix often found so amusing.

  ‘Come on, Anna, back in your run,’ Quinn Tennant muttered gently, leading the bitch with a firm yet tender grip on the scruff of her neck. Suddenly compliant, she followed beside him, trying meanwhile to look back at her new-found playmate.

  Nick whined, obviously not amused at having their game so quickly disrupted, and Quinn turned to speak quietly to him. ‘It’s all right, old man. You’ll just have to wait until you get permission for this kind of thing. My permission,’ he added very distinctly with a direct glare at Alix,

  His permission? Anna’s going to love him ... the words echoed in Alix’s mind as memory mingled with surprise.

  ‘Anna,’ she said thoughtfully. ‘She’s your dog, then, so this is ...’

  ‘My house,’ he concluded for her.

  ‘Then Mrs. Babcock is your …’

  ‘Housekeeper will do.’

  ‘And of course you’re my landlord.’ It all fell into place now. This was how he had known her name, her business, everything. Even now, those bright green eyes were laughing at her.

  ‘I suppose you even knew who I was when we met on the road last night.’ It wasn’t exactly a question, but the look on Michelle Keir’s face indicated that an answer would be forthcoming, later if not right now.

  Quinn Tennant laughed. ‘It wasn’t exactly hard to guess, let’s put it that way.’

  Alix didn’t quite trust herself to reply to such a blatant attitude. To give herself time to think, she called Nick to her and reached down to take a grip on the scruff of his neck. The big dog accepted this briefly, then twisted away from her and trotted to sit quietly at heel.

  Alix looked up to meet Quinn Tennant’s unreadable eyes. ‘I get the impression you think it’s all very funny ‘ she said then She was beginning to seethe inside, her stomach rolled and boiling with growing anger.

  He shrugged. Not important, the gesture said.

  ‘Well I don’t,’ Alix replied to the unspoken avoidance ol a reply. ‘In fact I think it’s rather childish.’

  Michelle giggled slightly at that, but Quinn Tennant said nothing for a moment. When he did speak, there was no humour in his eyes.

  ‘Is that why you let my dog out?’

  ‘I did not — repeat, not let your dog out,’ Alix retorted, then shrunk back at his scathing gesture of disbelief.

  ‘I suppose your dog did,’ Quinn Tennant replied in obvious contempt. ‘Or are you going to try and make me believe that he and Anna managed it between them?’

  At the sound of her name, the liver bitch whined a reply and Nick responded by trotting over to rear high on his hind legs and nudge at the gate with his long Roman nose,

  I haven’t the faintest idea how your dog got out ‘ Alix said angrily. ‘All I know is that I had nothing to do with

  ‘Frankly, Miss McLean, I think you’re having me on,’ Quinn Tennant replied grimly. His eyes revealed an obvious contempt for what even Alix admitted must sound like a ridiculous lie, but she was too angry to care. She hadn’t let the bitch out, and she knew it no matter what anyone else might think.

  ‘Frankly, Mr Tennant, I couldn’t care less what you believe, she retorted scathingly. ‘Nick, get out of that!’

  Nick responded immediately, but as he turned away from the gate it swung open behind him and Anna followed right on his stubby little tail.

  Tennant stood in stunned silence, but Michelle burst out in a peal of tinkling laughter as the two dogs grinned their pleasure and trotted away to the bottom of the garden.

  ‘I think,’ Michelle said finally, ‘that you owe Miss McLean an apology, Quinn dear.’

  He said nothing. Alix said nothing either, for a moment, instead she walked over and looked suspiciously at the gate latch, reaching over to close it and open it several times. Then, using the heel of her hand, she pushed against the gate and latch and stifled an exclamation as it sprang open immediately.

  So Nick had opened the gate the first time! There was no question about the exhibition they had just witnessed, but Alix’s own fingers had just proved it was no fluke. She turned to Quinn Tennant, making no effort to hide her feelings.

  They stood glaring at one another for several seconds before Alix trusted herself to speak.

  ‘Well?’ she said.

  ‘Well what?’

  ‘Well, it appears that my dog is considerably more intelligent than you give him credit for,’ she replied. ‘And I also think you owe me an apology.’

  Quinn Tennant grinned, but there was little humour in it. Then he shrugged. ‘I certainly owe Nick an apology,’ he admitted, ‘but I fail to see why you deserve one.’

  Alix’s mouth dropped open in astonishment. How could he say such a thing? He had accused her unjustly, and seen for himself the proof that his accusation was unjust. And now, to blithely deny that he owed her any apology.

  ‘Don’t be stupid!’ she snapped.

  His eyebrows raised in silent query. ‘Stupid?’

  ‘You heard me.’

  ‘Of course I heard you. I may be stupid but I’m not deaf,’ he retorted, jaw muscles quivering with ill-disguised anger. ‘Now I’d like an explanation of your choice of words.’

  ‘It’s perfectly obvious,’ Alix snapped. Then, deliberately, she slowed her words into a litany as if explaining something complex to a backward child.

  ‘You accused me of opening that gate. I did not. You accused me of lying. I did not. You accused me trying to fool you by saying my dog opened the gate. I did not. The fact that he did open the gate is obvious. Therefore you owe me an apology.’

  During her recital, Quinn Tennant seemed to have regained at least some of his composure. His words, when they finally emerged, held a calm self-assurance that was almost as frightening as his anger.

  ‘Your dog has shown ra
ther surprising intelligence — agreed,’ he began. ‘I therefore apologise to him for not believing him capable of opening the gate. To you, however, I make no apology whatsoever. Miss McLean, since I consider you to be responsible for your dog’s actions. In future, I would suggest that you maintain better control of him. Is that perfectly clear?’

  Alix was speechless. Clear? It certainly was! Her mouth, hanging open with surprise, snapped shut as blinding rage took over her consciousness. The unspeakable arrogance of this man brought forth emotions she hadn’t ever believed existed inside her. Even the deliberate and callous treatment she had received from Bruce hadn’t created such a vivid desire for physical revenge. Her fingers clawed by her sides as she stood in rigid silence, destroying Quinn Tennant with her eyes, slicing him to ribbons, tearing out his black heart and throwing it upon the ground.

  ‘It ... is ... perfectly … clear,’ she ground out, then turned on her heel and strode back to her open doorway, flinging a demanding call to Nick as she turned. The big dog, surprisingly, trotted obediently over to follow her inside, starting violently with the realisation that if he had had a full-length tail it would have been cropped by the slamming door behind him,

  ‘O . . . o . . . o . . . oooooooh!’ she screamed to herself after Quinn Tennant had shut away his dog and walked from sight around the corner of the house with Michelle Keir clinging to his arm.

  ‘Oh, you arrogant, chauvinistic, rotten swine! Inconsiderate ... narrow-minded ... egotistical ...’ She couldn’t go on. Tears suddenly rushed into her eyes and she flung herself on to the bed in a paroxysm of uncontrollable weeping that went on and on and on.

  Eventually she cried the frustration out of her system, but even the tears couldn’t remove the hot anger at the unfairness of it all. The incident with Quinn Tennant had, it seemed, stolen, for ever the pleasure of her fine new home.