The Room on the Second Floor Read Free

disappoint.
    ‘Enchanting, quite enchanting. Douglas Scott. And you are…?’ He smiled warmly as his eyes instinctively flicked back down to that magnificent body, clad only in sheer black silk.
    ‘Tina. Tina Pound from the Geography Department.’ She gave a mock curtsy. She scrutinised him for a moment. ‘Where are you from? I haven’t seen you on campus.’
    ‘Not on campus, sweetheart. Not an intellectual, I’m afraid. Can’t read a word of Latin to save my life, but it doesn’t seem to stop me making a living. No, I’m a friend of the groom from way back.’ Tina’s big brown eyes smiled at him. To his surprise, he found he was managing to maintain eye contact far more readily than he would have expected.
    ‘Groom? That’ll be the day.’
    Out of the corner of her eye, Tina had been admiring the handsome figure of Professor Dalby up on the stage. His mop of brown hair curled fashionably as it hit his collar, making him look more like a film star than an academic. And he was all the more desirable for being blissfully unaware of the reaction he aroused among members of the other sex. And quite probably among certain members of his own sex, she reflected with a smile.
    ‘There’s a line of girls halfway around the university waiting for the prof to invite one of them to the altar. That is, if a certain person doesn’t manage it first. Still, you know him well enough, I’m sure…’
    Duggie smiled and nodded. He leant forward to whisper in her ear, taking the opportunity to let his fingers run slowly across the thin black strap over her shoulder. ‘Other things on his mind, I’m afraid. He gets off on things that happened in the Middle Ages, rather than present-day encounters.’ His hand lingered on her warm skin. ‘Not like the rest of us.’
    ‘So, if you’re not an academic, what do you do for a living, Douglas?’ Tina found she liked the look of this one. She had always had a thing for tough guys. The faint scars on Douglas Scott’s face spoke of an eventful life. ‘Nightclub bouncer, maybe?’ His hand was still on her shoulder. She didn’t mind.
    ‘Call me Duggie. Everybody does. No, far worse than that, I’m afraid. I sell houses.’
    She grimaced. ‘Oh God, that’s disgusting!’ She gave him a broad smile. ‘And I thought this was a posh establishment.’
    ‘Nothing posh about me, darling.’ He was grinning too.
    At that moment, a burst of applause told him that the speech was over.
    ‘Tina, I’m afraid I have to leave you for a short while. You won’t go anywhere now, will you?’
    He slipped regretfully back towards the stage. Tina watched his muscular back depart and reflected how refreshing it was to meet somebody fun for a change. Somehow, most of the folk she met in the Geography Department were so terribly earnest. She decided that this particular bad boy merited closer inspection.
    Roger was already off the stage and in the middle of some bumbling apology to Linda for something or other. Duggie cut him short.
    ‘Come on, Rog, let’s get some more champagne open and get you rat-arsed.’
    Linda giggled at the thought, and accompanied the two men across the room. This time Roger managed to behave almost normally. All three of them made a point of stopping to talk to the guests. Both the mayor and the vice-chancellor received the attentions of the man himself. By the time they reached the bar, Linda was feeling more like the hostess than the personal assistant of the host.
    As if reading her thoughts, Roger leant over, laid his hand on her arm and whispered, ‘I don’t know what I’d do without you, Linda.’
    She beamed and waited for more. But that was it. This rare moment of natural human affection would, she knew full well, probably have to do her for the next six months. Tomorrow or the next day, he would once more plunge into his labyrinthine world of medieval politics and power struggles. She gave a mental shrug and returned to the task in hand, oblivious to