from the many panes of glass.
Every time he saw it, it was like being punched in the chest. He couldn’t believe he had made his ambitious vision a reality. ‘You like?’
Her cheeks were glowing and her large, full mouth curved into a smile. ‘I love it. Alex, it’s wonderful.’
Relief flooded through him. He wasn’t sure why her opinion mattered so much. It wasn’t just that she was his oldest friend. No, he trusted her taste. If she didn’t get it then he wouldn’t have communicated his vision properly. ‘Come on, then. Let’s go inside. I think you might combust when you see the swimming pool.’
‘SHOW ME AROUND, ALEX! It’s not every day a girl gets the architect providing the grand tour.’
‘Don’t you want to see your room and freshen up first?’
She shook her head. ‘No, I’m quite fresh, thank you, and you can conclude the tour at my room.’ Flora watched the bellboy pile her bags and coat onto his trolley and sighed happily. ‘This is a lot better than lugging a tent over three fields—and then having to go back for the beds. Besides, you want me to get an idea of what the client wants? The best way is for me to take a detailed look around.’
Her first impression was of luxurious comfort rather than cold, chic elegance. The whole interior of the hotel was the same mix of glass and wood as the outside but softened with warm colours and plenty of plants, abstract prints and comfy-looking cushions and sofas to mellow the potentially stark effect.
Alex shrugged off his designer ski jacket, a coat that had probably cost more than Flora’s entire suitcase of clothes, and gestured. ‘Where do you want to start?’
‘Bottom and work our way up?’
‘Okay, then, get ready to combust. We’re heading down to the pool.’
If Flora didn’t actually burst into excitable flames when she saw the swimming pool it was a close-run thing. Housed a floor below the hotel entrance in a space carved out of the alpine shelf, the high-ceilinged pool was enclosed by a dramatic wall of glass. Swimming up to the edge of the pool must feel like swimming to the very edge of the mountain itself, she thought, staring out at the white peaks, as if you might plunge over the side, dive down to the valley below.
The lights were low and intimately flattering, padded sofas were dotted around in discreet corners, and whirlpools, saunas and steam rooms were hidden away behind glazed sliding doors. Tables held jugs of iced water and inviting platters of fruit; thick fluffy towels were piled up on wooden shelves.
‘Oh.’ She pivoted, taking in every single detail. ‘I just want to grab a magazine from that beautifully overstuffed bookshelf, pull on a robe and move into this room for ever. May I? Please?’
But Alex ignored her. ‘Come on, next stop the lounge and then I’ll take you to your room.’
By the time they reached her room Flora had scribbled down plenty of notes and photographed enough details to give her a good place to start. Obviously the designs she came up with for the Bali hotel would need to be unique, to marry with Alex’s vision and the setting, but it was good for her to have an idea of the owner’s tastes. She could see why Lola had used the palate she had; it was warming, sumptuous and complemented the natural materials prevalent throughout the building. The soft furnishings and décor were all shades of soft cream, gold, bronze and orange, whether it was the bronze and orange stripes on the cushions or the subtle champagne of the robes and the towels, the same colour in the crisp blouses and shirts worn by the staff.
It was clear that whatever look she designed for the Bali hotel would have to flow through every single detail, no matter how tiny.
‘Okay.’ Alex stopped at a cream door and gestured. ‘This is you.’
Flora held her breath as she slid her keycard into the slot and turned the handle. Yes, she was here to work but there was no reason why she shouldn’t enjoy it and after a few long years of penny-pinching and worrying it was rather splendid to be in such indulgent surroundings.
She stepped in and stopped, awestruck. ‘Wow. Oh, Alex.’
At one end was the ubiquitous wall of glass and the ubiquitous stunning winter-wonderland view—not that it was getting old. Flora thought she could live here for ever and it would still be as breathtaking as the very first heart-stopping glimpse. The ceiling was high, arched and beamed, the walls a pale gold. The bed, a floating platform, was made up in white linen accented with a bronze silk throw and matching cushions.
Her suitcase had been placed on a low chest at the foot of the huge bed, the cheap, battered case more than a little incongruous in the spacious, luxurious suite. A reminder that this luxury was borrowed, that she had to earn her place here. Now she was here the jeans, jumpers and one good dress she had packed didn’t seem enough. Not for the weather or for the hotel itself.
‘You like it?’ Alex stepped into the room, a smile playing on his lips as he watched her dart around, peering into every door.
‘Like it? Do you realise that this walk-in wardrobe is bigger than my bedroom? In fact this suite is bigger than the house I live in—and I’m including the garden!’
She stopped by the glass screen that separated her bed from the small seating area and stared at the other screen, which stood between her bed and the bath, a huge tub affair perched on a dais right in the centre of the room.
‘Thank goodness the toilet’s in its proper place and not on show, otherwise this would feel more like an oddly luxurious prison cell than a hotel room!’
‘It’s looking good.’ Alex took a few steps further in and turned slowly. ‘I haven’t seen most of the suites since they were decorated and the fixtures installed.’ He stopped by the bath and ran one finger along the bronze trim. ‘At least you’ll be clean while you’re staying here. It can be so difficult to drag oneself away from the bed to the bathroom, don’t you find?’
Flora tested out the sofa, wincing as the rigidity of the cushions rejected her attempt to relax. It looked good but she wasn’t sure she would want to actually sit on it for any length of time. ‘Was the bath in the centre of the room your idea, Mr Fitzgerald? Have you been watching Splash again because I don’t think there are many mermaids in the Austrian Alps.’
He grinned. ‘Nope, not guilty, the fixtures are all Lola’s vision. Apparently this particular suite is the epitome of romantic.’
‘That’s where I’ve been going wrong, all that old-fashioned bathing in private nonsense. Although it could be just a leetle awkward if I was sharing a room with a friend, not a romantic interest. Is this...erm...motif in all the rooms?’
‘Not at all,’ he assured her. ‘In most of them the baths are tucked away respectably in the room for which they were intended. Okay. If you are ready, they are laying out Kaffee und Kuchen for us. I thought we could go and look through my design ideas in the lounge while we have a snack.’
‘Kaffee and Kuchen? Coffee and cake?’ Flora jumped to her feet. ‘Never did words so gladden a girl’s heart. I’m ready. Lead on, Macduff. Take me to cake.’
* * *
