Читать книгу The British Bachelors Collection - Сара Крейвен, Kate Hardy - Страница 38
ОглавлениеTea, glorious tea. A celebration of teas from around the world.
On a cold winter’s day? A piping-hot infusion of ginger and lemon will do the trick. Fruit and flower combinations are brilliant at lifting the spirits.
From Flynn’s Phantasmagoria of Tea
Wednesday
Sean almost had to snatch his raincoat from the hotel doorman before dashing out onto the pavement. But it was worth it, because Dee was still waiting to cross the busy road, her attention focused on shrugging into her duvet jacket, her bag clenched tight between her knees.
‘Dee. Wait a moment. What about our meeting?’
Her head swivelled back towards him and she looked from side to side for a moment before she realized who was calling out. Instantly her shoulders seemed to slump and she fastened up her jacket and slung her bag over one shoulder.
‘Meeting? Can we do it over the phone? I really don’t want to go back inside.’
She shrugged her shoulder bag higher and sighed out loud. ‘I think that I’ve embarrassed myself enough for one morning. Don’t you?’
Then she pulled a dark-green and gold knitted cap out of her jacket pocket and pulled it down over her pixie cut. ‘Right now I am far more interested in finding the nearest piece of park, grass, garden, anything in fact, that will make me forget the white holding cell that I have just been in. Okay?’
Then she noticed the crossing light had turned green and she turned on the heels of her ankle boots and strode forward, her cotton dress swinging from side to side above the grey-patterned leggings.
Her outfit was the perfect match for her personality: stylish, modern and surprisingly sexy. Just like the woman wearing them. The ankle boots were just short enough to display a finely turned ankle and toned calf muscles.
And just like that his libido switched up another level.
What had he told Rob? That he had missed his two weeks in the sun? Well, maybe he could find some of that life and colour right here in London in the shape of Dee Flynn.
He rarely met women outside work, and never dated guests or his employees, so his social life had been pretty static ever since the disaster with Sasha.
But there was something about this girl that screamed out that her open, friendly manner was real. Genuine. And totally, totally original. Which in his world was a first.
She knew exactly who she was and she knew what she wanted. Yet she was prepared to tell him that she had a problem with closed, windowless spaces and she had to change the rules to deal with it.
Sexy and confident inside her own skin.
And she was totally unaware of how rare a thing that was, especially in the hotel business, where most people had hidden agendas. Her goal was simple: she had placed her trust in the hotel and they had let her down. And she needed him to put that right. Because it was personal. Very personal.
Was that why he had taken time out today to meet her when his conference team were perfectly capable of finding a replacement venue in one of the other Beresford hotels in this city?
She marched ahead, then stopped and looked up at the street names high on the wall of the buildings on either side, hesitant and unsure.
‘Looking for somewhere in particular, or will any stretches of grass do?’
Dee whirled around to face him, her eyebrows squeezed together, her hands planted firmly on her hips. ‘I have no clue where I am. Seriously. I left my street map back at the shop and was too frazzled to jump on the next bus. I would probably end up even more lost. And shouldn’t you be back doing your hotel management thing?’
She waggled her fingers in the direction of the hotel with a dismissive sniff.
‘What? And leave my special client lost in a strange part of the city? Tut tut. That would be a terrible dereliction of my duties. Please. Allow me to be your tour guide.’
He closed the gap between them on the narrow pavement outside the smart row of shops and waved his right hand in the air. ‘As it happens, I know this area very well even without a map. And you wouldn’t want to see me get into trouble with the senior management, would you?’
‘Is this all part of the Beresford hotel’s five-star service?’ She asked with just enough of an uplift in her voice to tell him that she was struggling not to laugh.
‘What do you think?’ he asked, and was rewarded with a knowing smile before she squeezed her lips together, a faint blush glowing on her neck.
Her gaze scanned his face, hesitant at first, but the longer she looked at him, the more her features seemed to relax and she lifted her chin before replying in a low, soft voice which to his ears was like the rustle of new leaves in the trees that lined the street. The relentless noise of the buses, taxis and road traffic faded away until all he could focus on was the sound of her words. ‘I think I would like to see the river. Do you know how to get there?’
Sean nodded, and soon they were walking side by side along the wide, grey stone pavement that ran along beside the river Thames.
‘Okay, what was it that made you hate my hotel so much that we had to dash out into the rain?’ Sean asked.
Dee winced. ‘Do you really want to know? Because I am famous for being a tad blunt with my opinions when asked questions like that.’
He coughed low in his throat and took a tighter grip on his briefcase. ‘I noticed. And, yes, I do want to know.’ Then he glanced over at her and gave a small shrug. ‘It’s my job to keep the guests happy and coming back for more. So fire away; I can take it.’
Dee stopped walking and dropped her head back, eyes closed. Her chest lifted and fell inside her padded jacket a couple of times.
‘I’m so glad that the rain stopped. I like rain. Rain is good. Snow too. But cold sleet and grey skies? Not so much.’
Then she opened her eyes and looked up at him. ‘What were you like when you were fifteen years old?’
The question rocked Sean a little and he took a second before replying. ‘Fifteen? Living in London, going to school then working in the kitchens at my dad’s first hotel: loading dishwashers, peeling veg, helping to clean the rooms. My brother and sister did the same. We are a very hands-on family and there was no special treatment for any of us. We had to learn the hotel business from the bottom up. Those were the rules. And why do you want to know that?’
‘I was born in north-east India. At a tea plantation where my dad was the general manager. He worked for a big firm of Scottish tea importers who owned most of the tea gardens in that district of Assam. And don’t look at me like that. I am simply answering your question the long way round.’
‘Are you always so curious about other people’s lives?’ Sean asked.
‘Always, especially when I can see the worry on your face. No doubt you have some terribly important business meeting that you should be attending at this very minute instead of putting up with me. As a matter of interest, how long had you given me in your whizzy electronic diary this morning? Just for future reference?’
Sean lifted both hands in the air and gave a low chuckle. ‘A whole fifty minutes. So we are still on the clock. Please, carry on. Your delightful childhood in sunny India. That must have been very special.’
She grinned, shook her head, then carried on walking. ‘You have no idea. Both of my parents were working estate managers so I was left with my nanny and the other kids to run feral across a huge farm most of the time outside school. It was paradise. I only went down with serious diseases twice and grew up speaking more of the many local languages than English. I loved it.’
‘When did you leave?’
‘We moved four times to different estates in fifteen years and that was tough. But they all had the same problems and my dad had a remarkable talent for turning the businesses around. He seemed to have a knack for dealing with people and helping them with what they needed. Mostly better education for their children and health care.’ Then her voice faded away and she looked out over the wide, grey river in a daze. ‘They respected him for that. I’m sure of it.’
‘Did you come back to England for your education?’ Sean asked and stepped closer to avoid a couple of joggers.
Dee stopped and turned back to face him, and her eyebrows squeezed together as she focused on his question. ‘Partly. But mainly because the firm promoted my dad to be a tea broker. We came back to London when I was fifteen.’ Then she exhaled and blew out hard. ‘Total culture shock. I had been here for holidays many times, but living here? Different thing.’
Then she paused and licked her lower lip. ‘That was when I realized how much I had taken the outdoor life for granted. Being cooped up in a classroom with only a couple of small windows to let in air and light started to be a real problem, and my schoolwork suffered. I found that the only lessons where I could relax were the cookery and art classes where we were taught in a lovely sunlit studio extension at the back of the school.’
She looked up at him through her eyelashes, which he realized were not black but more of an intense dark brown.
‘I was okay there. Big open patio doors. Lots of space. And colour; lots of colour. The gardens were planted out in wonderful displays of flowering shrubs and plants. Tubs and hanging baskets. Planters everywhere.’
Then she pressed her lips together tight. ‘In fact, that studio was just about as opposite as you could get to that windowless, airless cube of a white room we have just escaped from.’
She titled her head to one side and blinked. ‘Human beings are not supposed to be in spaces like that meeting room of yours. Seriously. What was the designer thinking? Monochrome, hard surfaces. No colour or texture. No living plants. If I was a business person, it would be the last place on the planet where I would want to go to work.’
Then she winced and flashed him a glance. ‘Sorry, but you did ask. And I am sure that the bedrooms are very nice and cozy.’
‘Actually, they are exactly the same. We market the style as minimalist couture. No pictures on the walls and all-white polymer surfaces and sealed tiling.’
‘What about the food?’ Dee asked in a low, incredulous voice.
‘Micronutrients, hand-harvested seafood and baby organic vegetables. It is very popular with the ladies who lunch.’
‘Not the same ladies who come into our tea rooms. Those girls can eat! We are run off our feet keeping up with the demand. But I am starting to get the picture. Oh, Sean! I don’t envy you that job. How do you survive? Oh no—I’ve just had a horrible thought. Wait. Wait just one minute.’
Sean stopped walking and Dee stomped up to him, close enough that she had to look up into his face.
‘Please tell me that this other hotel is not the same! I’m not sure that I could stand another minimalist venue. Forget the breakfast meeting. All I want is a replacement venue, Sean.’ And she clutched hold of the lapels of his raincoat. ‘Somewhere with windows and light and air where people can enjoy tea. Because you have to understand, that’s what tea is all about. Having fun and sharing a drink with friends and family. The ceremony and the rituals are optional extras. And you can’t do that in a cement basement garage. Please give me some light and space. Is that too much to ask?’
Her bright eyes were shining. Her hands were on his coat, so it made perfect sense for his right hand to rest lightly on her hip.
‘As it happens, this hotel is the first one on my list of options. They have a vacancy a week Saturday and can easily fit the numbers you gave on the booking form.’
He flicked his head over his right shoulder. Dee’s stunning green eyes widened in surprise and she took a small gasp of astonishment.
‘This was the first of the Beresford luxury five-star hotels. Art deco. Original stained glass. Plenty of natural light, and the conference suite opens up onto the lawns leading down to the river. It’s also the same place where I cut my teeth as a junior manager so I think I know it pretty well. And not a minimalist detail in sight. In fact, I would go as far as to say it is old school. So. What do you think?’
‘Think? I am too stunned to think. Wow. You can officially consider yourself forgiven.’
And, without asking permission or forgiveness, she leant up on the tips of her shoes and tugged his lapels down towards her so that he was powerless to pull back even if he wanted to.
The quick flutter of her warm breath on his cold cheek happened so fast that, when her soft and warm lips pressed against his skin, the fragile sensation of that tender, sweet kiss was like liquid fire burning her brand onto his skin and in a direct line to his heart.
To Dee it was probably nothing more than a quick, friendly peck on the cheek but when Sean looked into those smiling green eyes he saw his world reflected back at him.
He should have looked away. Made a joke, stepped back and pointed out some of the famous London landmarks that were on the other side of the Thames. But for the first time since Sasha the only thing Sean was interested in was the warm glow and welcome that a pair of captivating green eyes held out to him.
Tantalizing. Alluring. He was held tight in their grasp and that suited him just fine. Forget the cold wind. Forget that they were on a public footpath. Forget that she was a client.
All that he could think about was the red glow on her cheeks, and when she tilted her face to one side the first real smile of the day creased the corners of her mouth and lingered there for a moment before reaching her eyes.
Sean lifted his hand and popped a stray strand of hair back under her knitted hat with one finger. He made sure that the knuckles of that hand traced a feather-light track along cheekbones which were so defined and yet so soft that his skin ached to do it again to make sure that he had not mistaken the sensation.
Instantly her head lifted just a little and those eyes recognized a shift in the electricity in the air between them. It had that same power as the energy bolt he had felt when he first saw her in the hotel, but here it was magnified a hundred times.
It seemed only natural to drop his briefcase to the floor, slip both hands behind the back of Dee’s head and cradle her skull. When he bent down and pressed his cheek against her temple, he could feel her breath on his skin, and each breath he took was warmed by the scent of the woman he was holding so close to his chest.
His mouth slid slowly down to her lips, making her take a sharp gasp that told him everything he needed to know.
This was a woman designed for pleasure, and given the chance he wanted to be the one to show her just how good that pleasure could be.
Shame that two cyclists just happened to be speed-racing past them at that very second, laughing loudly, followed by a woman on a mobile phone with a tiny yapping dog on a lead.
Perhaps this was not the place. Dee certainly thought so; she let him go so quickly that he almost overbalanced but held it together by keeping a tighter grip on her waist.
Dee grinned back at him, and suddenly it was as if the sunlight in the break in the clouds above their heads was focused on the genuine warmth of her delight. The grey was gone, replaced by an infectious smile which seemed to reach down inside his very being and twist by several hitches that steel wire of attraction that bound them together.
Irrepressible, fun, real. His sunshine on a grey day.
This was what he wanted. This was what he needed in his life.
This was probably why he stepped back, slid his hand from her hip and held his elbow out towards her.
‘May I have the pleasure of being your personal hotel guide on this fine February morning, Miss Flynn?’
Dee looked at his elbow, eyebrows high, as though she was getting ready to give him her very best snarky remark, then flashed him a blushing half-smile.
‘Well, if you can stand the scurrilous gossip this will create, I may be prepared to risk it,’ she replied and threaded her hand through the crook of his elbow. ‘Although, there is something you should know.’
‘You have a jealous boyfriend at home who is going to track me down and sort me out if I make a move?’ Sean chuckled as they strolled up the path away from the river, Dee leaning slightly into his shoulder because of the height difference.
‘Hah! Very amusing. Not a bit. No boyfriend, jealous or otherwise. I am working on my master plan to take over the tea trade one festival at a time. No time for boyfriends; hell, no. They are far too distracting to a lady entrepreneur like myself.’
‘Of course. I completely understand. Today Lottie’s Cake Shop and Tea Rooms, tomorrow the world. I can see it now. And a great idea for a franchise.’
‘I know. But the tea shop is only one of my many talents.’ Dee coughed dismissively. ‘I was quite serious this morning when I answered the shop phone. The tea-import business is at the very early stages and I am taking my time to think about the name of the company and how to brand myself. So important, don’t you agree?’
Sean opened his mouth to answer then looked down at this girl who was capable of rendering him silent.
Then he looked at her again in silence before replying. She was serious. Totally, totally serious.
And his interest in her just ramped up another notch.
‘I do agree. The right name and brand are crucial for creating the perfect image for your company. It has to be unique, creative but easy to recall. Not easy. Which is why there are a lot of companies making serious money working for clients who have exactly that problem.’
His reward was a short nod. ‘I had a feeling that you would appreciate my business sense, which is why I plan to launch my new company at the tea festival. That way I get the perfect feedback direct from the experts in the trade. It’s an ideal opportunity.’
Then she looked up at him with a sly glance.
‘Ah. So this is not just about the tea. Now I understand; you are taking a chance. That’s quite something. Brave.’
‘Daft more like,’ she replied and flashed him a light, quizzical glance though her eyelashes. ‘As a matter of interest... Were you...planning to make a move? Just curious.’
‘Might be. Miss Curious.’
‘Not Miss Anything. The name is Dee, but my friends call me Dee.’
Then she bumped her head against his side. ‘Dee.’
Sean slid his hand down his side and clasped hold of her fingers. ‘My friends call me Sean. Conventional, but I like it.’
‘Sean,’ she whispered and the sound was carried away in the breeze like the sound of the wind in the trees. ‘I like it too.’
He grinned and took a tighter hold of her fingers. ‘Let me show you my hotel. Somehow, I think it might be a perfect match. Ready to find out?’
* * *
‘Prakash! What on earth are you doing here?’
A slim, elegantly dressed man with a Beresford hotel name-pin on his lapel and a lively open smile turned towards them in the foyer of the stunning hotel. But he did not have a chance to reply because Dee squealed and practically pounced on him, pressing her chest against his suit before pecking his cheek.
Then she stood back and covered her mouth with her hand.
‘Oh no, you’re working here. Sorry, Prakash. Especially since your boss is right here with me. Do you know Sean?’
Sean stepped forward and in an instant scanned the employee name-badge and mentally made the connections.
‘Prakash.’ He nodded. ‘Of course.’ They exchanged a hearty handshake. ‘Haven’t you just graduated from the management academy? I know my father was very impressed with the whole team.’
‘Thank you, Mr Beresford. It was tough but I learnt a huge amount.’
‘But what are you doing here?’ Dee pressed, looking into her friend’s startled face as she grabbed his arm. ‘Last time I saw you was when we graduated from catering college and you were all set to run your parents’ chain of family restaurants.’
Ah. So they’d been at catering college together. That would explain why Prakash Mohna was looking shell-shocked. He was probably terrified that Dee was going to start sharing some scandalous student prank that they had got up to.
As though a hidden sensor in the back of Dee’s head had detected that Sean was thinking of her, when she turned his way her face twisted into an expression that screamed out: go on, say something snarky about students.
‘Actually, I am the new conference manager. Started yesterday,’ Prakash blustered.
‘Conference manager.’ Dee laughed and thumped him on the shoulder. ‘That’s brilliant news. Because I, Miss Dee Flynn of Flynn’s Phantasmagorian Tea Emporium, need a conference room. In a hurry. Sean here—’ she flicked her head over her shoulder in his direction ‘—found out that I had been double-booked at another Beresford hotel. And several hundred tea lovers are going to descend on London looking for a tea festival a week on Saturday. Do you think that you can help me out? Because otherwise we’ll be setting up the stall in this gorgeous foyer.’
Her college friend flashed Sean a look of sheer panic before licking his lips and waving down a hallway. ‘Why don’t we check the booking system and find out?’
‘Is it computerized?’ Dee winced.
‘Well, yes, but we also have the printed booking sheet as back-up,’ Prakash replied, obviously confused, then he nodded. ‘Don’t tell me that you are still a complete technophobe? Dee!’
She held up both hands in protest. ‘Not a bit. I have a laptop. Lottie has set it up for me and I run my world-class tea empire from the comforts of my own home. Progress has been made.’
Then she turned and opened her mouth to say something with that glint in her eye which told Sean that she couldn’t resist giving him a sly dig, but Sean saw it coming and cut it off.
‘Human error caused the double booking at Richmond Square, so we are going to have to convince Dee that our systems can handle it.’
Sean looked up at Prakash who had pressed a finger to his lips as though he was finding the fact that his boss and his pal from catering college were on first-name terms very amusing.
‘I checked the system this morning, Prakash, and we had a cancellation which might fit the bill. Why don’t I leave you to look after Dee and sort out the details while I take care of some other business? I’ll be just over here if you need me.’
* * *
Sean looked up from the reception desk as Dee’s laughter echoed out across the marble foyer. She was strolling out of the main conference room with her arm looped around Prakash’s elbow.
Right now Prakash seemed to be doing a fine job of charming their latest client and keeping her entertained.
Strange that every time he looked up Dee just happened to glance in his direction and then instantly turn away. With just enough of a blush on the back of her neck to tell him she was only too aware that they were sharing the same breathing space.
Sean paused. For a moment there he thought... Yes, he was right. They were chatting away in what sounded like Hindi.
Of course. She had grown up in India. Nevertheless, it was still impressive.
Dee Flynn was certainly an unusual girl. In more ways than one.
He had made a mistake when he’d walked into the cake shop last night and taken her for a baker or shop assistant.
This girl was a self-employed tea entrepreneur who was organizing what sounded like a very impressive festival on her own.
That took some doing.
She couldn’t be a lot older than his half-sister Annika, who had grown into a lovely and talented photo-journalist. But when it came to organisation? Not one of her strengths, and Annika was happy to admit that, even to him.
Even their father had been impressed with how the shy little blonde girl had blossomed into a lovely teenager and confident, beautiful woman with straight As, and a first-class honours degree from a famous university under her belt.
It was an education designed to open doors. And it had.
He loved Annika and was the first to admit that she had achieved her success by working as hard as he had to make it happen. Yet he did wonder sometimes how things would have turned out for them all if their father had not been there to pay for the private education, with a solid back-up plan and financial edge to give them the support they needed.
Things might have been different for all of them if his father had not insisted that all of his children should grow up together: same school, same house most weekends and holidays.
Three children with three different mothers living in the same house had not always been easy—especially for his stepmother—and they had fought and bickered and had vicious pillow fights just like any other children. But Tom Beresford had forged them into a family and he had done it through love and making sure that each one of them knew that he would always be there for them. The one constant in each of the children’s lives.
For that, he was prepared to forgive his dad’s womanising ways. Rob never stopped teasing him that his little brother was letting the side down by staying faithful to every one of the lovely women who had agreed to put up with a light and fun relationship with him while it lasted.
Sean Beresford did not do long-term commitment. He had seen first-hand the fallout from that kind of life when you were working twenty-four-seven, and he was determined to learn from his father’s mistakes.
But to succeed on your own? With parents who worked overseas? That took a different skill set.
Dee was definitely a one-off.
Suddenly aware that he had been totally focused on Prakash and Dee, Sean bent his head over the conference-centre booking system and one thing was only too obvious: Prakash was not going to be very busy for the next few weeks. Far from it. Compared to the previous year, bookings over the winter had fallen by over forty per cent and were only picking up now for spring weddings and business meetings. Summer was busy most weeks but the autumn was a disaster.
Something was badly wrong here. The recession had hit some London businesses more than others, and large conferences were a luxury many companies could no longer afford. Events booked a year in advance were regularly being cancelled.
Sean stretched up and ran his fingers along the back of his neck, anxious not to make a fool of himself. But the girl in the flowery cotton dress and leggings distracted him by strolling across through to the other room, totally confident and completely at ease, with Prakash and his assistant making notes as they walked.
Their half-whispered words tickled the back of his neck and Sean yearned to drop everything and join in the conversation instead of focusing on the work.
Well, at least they would have one happy customer.
The conference centre at this luxury hotel was in a different league from the facilities at Beresford Richmond Square, which was designed for large seminar groups. Most of the time companies booked the whole hotel for the event and organized special catering and personalized planning.
That did not happen too often in a hotel this size... Maybe that was something he could look at?
Sean quickly checked the hotel brochure. Conference delegates could have a ten per cent discount if they stayed here. At Richmond Square it was fifty per cent. And he already knew that this hotel was never fully booked. Ever.
Perhaps he should be thanking Dee for giving him an idea.
He looked up as the door to one of the ground-floor meeting rooms opened and a stream of hotel guests walked past him towards the sumptuous buffet he had already spotted being laid out.
Slipping in right behind them, Dee smiled back at him over one shoulder and waltzed into the dining room with Prakash leaving Sean to stare after her. And the way her dress lifted in the air conditioning as her hips swayed as she walked.
Suddenly light-headed, Sean blinked. Food. Now, that was an idea.
Sean stood in silence as the chatting, smiling strangers filled the space his newest client had left in her wake, and watched as Dee looked over her shoulder with a wry smile, shrugged her shoulders, then turned to laugh at something Prakash said, before they were swallowed up by the businessmen who were clearly desperate for brunch after a hard morning.
The last thing he saw was the slight tilt of her head and a flash of floral cotton as she sashayed elegantly away from him. Every movement of every muscle in her body was magnified, as though a searchlight was picking her out in the crowd for him alone.
This was a girl whom he had only met in person for the first time yesterday.
Strange that he was even now reliving the moment when her body had been pressed against his arm.
Strange how he was still standing in the same spot five minutes later, watching the space where she had last stood. Waiting. Just in case he could catch a glimpse of her again.
The prettiest woman in the room.
And a very, very tantalising distraction.
Sean breathed out slowly through his nose and turned away.
Before Sasha, the old Sean would have already flown in his lady and made dinner reservations, or drinks that would stretch out into the evening with a long, slow languorous seduction as a nightcap.
But now? Now long-term relationships were for men who stayed longer in one place than a few days or weeks at most. Men who were willing to commit fully to one woman and mean it.
His gaze flicked up to the place where Dee had just been and lingered there longer than it should have.
They were different people in so many ways, yet there was something about Dee that made him want to know her better. A lot better.
He would love to have the luxury of being able to take personal time in London, but that was impossible if he wanted to get his job done before leaving for Paris. Even if that temptation came in the shape of a tea-mad beauty who was different from any other girl that he had met for a long time.
A cluster of older men in suits burst into the reception area, blasting away his idle thoughts in a powerful rush of financial chatter and cold air.
Sean gave a low cough and straightened his back as he nodded to the guests.
Nothing had changed. The work had to come first.
He owed it to his father and the family who were relying on him to get things back on track. There was no way that he could let them down. Not now. Not ever.
Not after all that his father had done for him. For all of them.
Sean looked up at the screensaver on the computer: The Beresford Riverside. A Beresford Family Hotel.
There it was. The Beresford family. His rock when things had collapsed around him when his mother had been taken ill. His rock when his father had remarried but kept the children together, making sure that they all felt loved and cherished.
His family was all he had. And he was not going to let them down.
Dee was a lovely girl and a new client. He had been friendly and gone beyond the call of duty. The last thing either of them needed was a long-distance relationship which was bound to end in heartbreak and tears—at both ends of the telephone. From now on he had to keep his guard.
His family had to come first.
It was time to get back to work.
