Melbourne Heat by Elizabeth Lapthorne Page A

seemed almost poleaxed for a moment.
    The man leaned his head uncomfortably close and sniffed.
    Did he just sniff me?
    Spencer shook his head, wondering if he was going mad.
    “Like I said, I’m terribly sorry, but I simply won’t be able to be in control of your accounts,” Spencer repeated. He tugged his arm hard, and surprisingly, Malcolm let him go. Too relieved to think closely about that, he took a couple of quick paces backward. Spencer sucked in a deep breath and straightened his spine, hoping to look like he was cool, calm and collected, and not at all wishing he could run out of the door.
    Malcolm closed the distance between them before Spencer could even see him move. Once again, but at least without touching him, the man bent over him and sniffed. Malcolm reared back and glared at him like he’d bathed in shit or rolled in mud before getting dressed that morning.
    Spencer felt well out of his depth. He knew he’d been uncomfortable around Malcolm, knew there was something strange about the man, but not once had it crossed his mind that he might be deranged.
    “Why do you have the scent of another branded upon you?” Malcolm demanded.
    Spencer dropped his mouth open. Out of everything the man could have said, that was something he’d never have expected.
    “Excuse me?” Spencer replied, flabbergasted.
    What the fuck?
    Spencer knew for a fact that he’d bathed twice that morning, wore fresh clothes and had his usual deodorant on. He couldn’t possibly smell of anything . And why was Malcolm suddenly talking strangely? Who said something like ‘branded upon you’? It wasn’t like he was some heifer at a cattle ranch, was it?
    Clearly Malcolm was a crackpot as well as a jerk.
    “I think you should leave now, there’s no way I’m doing business with you,” Spencer insisted cooly. He didn’t care if this was some elaborate joke, or if Malcolm was touched in the head. Spencer didn’t have to put up with this shit.
    Malcolm snarled like an animal who’d had his dinner ripped from his mouth.
    “I’ll be back later, when I’ve got a plan,” Malcolm said.
    Spencer blinked, confused. He understood the words, but couldn’t begin to put them into a context. It was like Malcolm was speaking in tongues. The man stalked to the door, opened it with a strength that had the flimsy frame shake, and slammed it behind him.
    Spencer stared at the door, feeling totally lost but undeniably relieved that the man was gone and that whatever had been going on—or not going on—was over.
    That man totally didn’t sniff me, he tried to reassure himself. And he didn’t snarl. Who the hell snarls? He’s just pissy because I stood him up and won’t do his accounts. Yeah, a good accountant is damn hard to find. That was just a strange temper tantrum. That’s all. Just wait till I tell Charles about it tonight. He’ll die laughing.
    Ignoring the faintest of trembles in his hands, Spencer smoothed his hair back a few times in a soothing gesture. He straightened his jacket, checked his tie and plastered a big smile on his face. With a deep breath, he was ready. He opened the door and stepped out, mentally bracing himself for Nell’s curiosity.
    The end of the day couldn’t come fast enough for him.

Chapter Five
     
     
     
    “So the strangest thing happened to me today,” Spencer said with a chuckle. He took a long gulp from his bottle of beer and grinned.
    Charles looked up from the pasta sauce he was stirring and raised his eyebrows expectantly.
    “Oh yeah? This sounds good. Tell.”
    “Well, there’s been this courier popping in for a couple of weeks. Malcolm,” Spencer explained. With a number of hours between the event and now he could put a far more humorous cast to the whole episode. And he enjoyed being able to tell the story to Charles, expecting to get a good laugh out of him from it.
    “It was him I went to the Gardens to meet last night,” Spencer continued, “to collect some paperwork from