come?’
She paused outside door number three-one-nine and flashed him a smile. ‘Too many actors. Now, let me show you your room.’
He was almost sure she was joking, Noah decided, as Eloise gave him the nickel and dime tour of his suite. For all that Morwen Hall was unlike any building he’d ever been in from the outside, he’d expected the rooms to be fairly standard. ‘Luxury hotel’ didn’t have so many different meanings, in his experience.
The main room of the suite confirmed his guess—there were a couple of creamy sofas, a coffee table laden with magazines and local information, a large window with a round table and two wooden chairs in front of it, a TV, fridge, desk, the usual. But then Eloise led him through to the bedroom.
‘Huh.’ Noah stared at the giant four-poster bed in the middle of the bedroom, decked out with heavy forest-green drapes and blankets over crisp white sheets. The wall behind the bed had been left bare, exposing the original stone of the house, but with tapestries hung either side of the four-poster for warmth. A pile of cushions and pillows in varying shades of green and different textures sat by the wooden headboard, ready to sink into.
‘Do you like it?’ Eloise asked and, for the first time, Noah heard a hint of uncertainty in her voice. ‘With Melissa and Riley out in the Gatehouse suite, this is the best room in the hotel.’
‘It looks it,’ Noah said, eyeing the bed appreciatively. He had some awesome ideas for that bed.
He turned his attention back to Eloise, wondering if she might be willing to help him out with some of them. Given the way she was backing away, probably not.
‘Well, if you’re all settled...’
‘What are you doing this evening?’ Sometimes you just had to take your chances, Noah had learnt. And right then he needed a distraction from all the thoughts of the past that had been plaguing him since he’d arrived—since he’d started reading that script, he realised. That was it. It wasn’t about ghosts, just a story that hit too close to home.
Still, a night with Eloise would probably cure that too.
‘Melissa and Riley have planned a welcome drinks party in the Saloon for all their guests,’ Eloise said promptly. ‘If you head down to reception for seven—’
‘You’ll be there?’ Noah gave her his warmest smile, feeling she might be missing the point slightly.
‘In my capacity as Hotel Manager? Absolutely.’
Definitely missing the point. Was she just shy, star-struck or honestly indifferent to him? Noah couldn’t tell. A perverse part of him almost hoped it was the last option. It had been too long since a woman had offered him a real challenge.
‘In that case, I’m looking forward to it,’ Noah said. Perhaps he’d fit a nap in before seven. That would get him back on his game.
But first he had to finish reading the script before his agent called to ask what he thought.
Work before fun, whatever the press wrote about him.
‘Great,’ Eloise said, sounding as if she was dreading every second. ‘I’ll see you then.’
As the door shut behind her, Noah made himself a promise. Before Melissa and Riley said ‘I do’ he’d get Eloise the Hotel Manager to warm up to him—or even warm him up.
No one ever said that Noah Cross wasn’t up for a challenge.
* * *
Eloise shut Noah’s door behind her and felt every muscle in her body relax for the first time since she’d spotted him outside the hotel. The last thing she needed this week was a distraction—let alone a stupid girlish crush.
Sucking in a deep breath, Eloise made a resolution before striding down the corridor back towards the lifts: under no circumstances would she allow a ridiculous attraction—to a film star of all people—to derail any of the plans for Melissa and Riley’s wedding.
All she needed to do, she reminded herself as she waited for the lift, was to make it to January the first. Then her lovely, normal, sensible and stable life would return and she could forget all about Melissa Sommers until her inevitable divorce and remarriage. No, even then, surely Melissa wouldn’t return to the scene of the crime, so to speak. It had to be bad form to hold a second wedding at the same venue as the first.
If this wedding went well, it could be the last time she had to see Melissa Sommers—ever. If that wasn’t motivation to not mess it up, nothing was.
Downstairs in the lobby, Melissa was still berating Laurel about something or other. Eloise got close enough to hear the words ‘wedding favours’ and ‘an embarrassment’ and backed off to loiter at the reception desk until they were finished. Anything wedding-related that wasn’t actually part of the venue was, unfortunately for Laurel, Laurel’s problem. And, as much as she liked Melissa’s half-sister, Eloise had enough problems of her own at Morwen Hall without borrowing other people’s.
After a few minutes where Eloise pretended to check the reservations system on the computer, Laurel approached, her smile fixed and tight. ‘I’m afraid I’m going to have to abandon you for a few hours. Melissa needs me to pop up to London.’
‘Wedding favours?’
Laurel nodded. ‘Apparently the ones we decided on three months ago are now passé and embarrassing.’
‘Of course.’ Eloise sighed. There was no way to tell whether Melissa was seriously unhappy with the favours or just trying to make Laurel’s life difficult. Either way, Laurel would need to fix it. ‘So, what’s the plan?’
‘Apparently she’s made some calls and there are now one hundred and fifty alternative favours—something to do with artisan chocolates and mini personalised perfumes, I think—waiting at some boutique in central London. So I’m off to pick them up.’
‘A wedding planner’s work is never done.’
‘Especially not with this wedding.’ Laurel gave her a tired smile. ‘Anyway, I’m going to hitch a lift with the next car arriving from the airport and get it to drop me off on its way to pick up the next set of guests—there should just about be time, as long as the traffic’s not too awful.’
‘How will you get back?’ Eloise asked because she probably shouldn’t grab hold of Laurel’s leg and beg her not to leave her alone with these awful people.
‘The last car heading back from the airport will have to swing past and pick me up.’ Laurel sighed. ‘And I’ll just have to pray that the guest inside isn’t some absurdly high maintenance celeb that objects to travelling with the help—or taking a significant detour.’
Eloise laughed. ‘I cannot imagine where you might have got the idea that Melissa would be friends with that sort of person.’
‘I know, right?’ Laurel smiled again, a real grin this time. Then her expression turned more serious. ‘Will you be okay here without me? Really? I know there’s still masses to do...’
Eloise waved away her concerns with a flap of her hand. Laurel panicking all over London wouldn’t help either of them, or get this wedding going. ‘I’ll
