pronounced than in his films.
Of course she’d think it’s perfect, Eloise thought. She’s got the two people she wants to make miserable most in the world waiting on her hand and foot as the culmination of six months of demanding the impossible from them. It’s her every dream come true.
Apparently Hollywood stardom wasn’t enough for some people. They had to come back and crush the little people they left behind too.
She glanced to her left and caught Laurel’s eye, wondering if the wedding planner was having the exact same thoughts. Even if she was, neither of them would say anything, not with their careers riding on this. That was probably what Melissa was banking on. That, or she honestly thought they were grateful to her for condescending to use their services for her wedding.
Actually, knowing Melissa, it was probably the latter.
Eloise bit her tongue all the same, reminding herself of what really mattered: her promotion. If she pulled off this wedding, Mr Richards, who owned Morwen Hall, had promised her that she’d be made permanent manager in the New Year. Not to mention the huge boost the hotel would get from the exposure. That was a good thing. A good, secure job with a hotel that was doing well. That was a sensible career goal.
All she had to do was make it through to January the first without telling Melissa what she really thought of her, or giving her any reason to complain about Eloise’s professionalism. How hard could that be?
Oh, yeah. Very.
But Eloise was determined to do it all the same.
‘This is quite some place, Melissa. I can absolutely see why you chose it. It’s perfect for you!’ Noah Cross’s voice was weirdly familiar from those times she’d sat in cinemas watching him beat up bad guys and seduce beautiful women on screen. It was just plain odd to hear him apply those dulcet tones to Morwen Hall. ‘Moody, well built...and I guess it has one hell of a history.’
His upbeat tone made the comment sound complimentary but, as he met her eyes, Eloise realised he knew exactly what he was saying. The humour in his gaze only grew as Melissa frowned—not enough to cause lines, though—and said, ‘Well, yes. It is quite special.’
It was a shame Noah Cross was an actor, Eloise thought. Otherwise, she had a feeling he might be exactly her sort of person.
‘Why don’t you all step inside?’ she said, deflecting Noah’s observations. ‘It’s freezing out here and I’d love to show you all around the old place, tell you a bit about its history.’
Noah sprung up the steps beside her, even as Melissa said, ‘Of course, I already know everything there is to know about Morwen Hall.’
Eloise’s smile became a little more fixed. ‘I think you’ll find we’ve changed a few things since you were last here, Melissa.’ Eight years ago.
‘Well, I for one can’t wait to learn all about this place.’ Noah slapped his hand against the heavy wood of the front door and the ironwork rang out an echo. ‘And whether or not there are any vampires hiding in there waiting to suck my blood.’ He flashed a smile that Eloise couldn’t help but return.
‘No vampires,’ she promised. At least, as long as you didn’t count Melissa. ‘But I can’t promise you might not see the odd ghost.’
Noah raised his eyebrows. ‘I don’t believe in ghosts.’
‘That’s good.’ Eloise grinned back at him. ‘Better just hope they don’t believe in film stars either.’
Noah laughed, warm and dark and deep, and Eloise tore her gaze away from him. She didn’t need to notice the way he tipped his head back when he laughed, or the long line of his neck, or his designer stubble. It was all totally irrelevant to her, and her job.
But she stole another look before heading back inside all the same.
THE INSIDE OF Morwen Hall was rather more what Noah had been expecting than the weirdly Gothic exterior. With its calming pale green walls and dove-grey trim, the luxurious but comfortable velvet and leather sofas in the main lobby and the deep pile rugs laid over the original stone floor, it was hard to believe Eloise’s stories of ghosts. Inside, Morwen Hall could be any luxury five-star hotel anywhere in the world. Still, Noah couldn’t shake the feeling that there might be more to this house, under the surface, than its owners wanted anyone to see.
And more to its manager too. Noah found his gaze fixed on Eloise as she shrugged off her pale grey coat, revealing a demure charcoal skirt suit beneath that went perfectly with the sensible black heels. He supposed that with such arresting hair and eyes brightly coloured clothing was just overkill.
Still, he couldn’t help but imagine what she’d look like in the sort of dresses the actresses he knew wore on the red carpet. Something that showed off her figure instead of hiding it. Noah was a connoisseur of women’s figures, and Eloise’s definitely looked like one he’d like to explore further.
‘Melissa, Riley, would you like me to show you to your suite?’ Eloise asked. Noah supposed it was only polite to deal with the bride and groom first. Besides, it would mean she had more time for him afterwards—and more time for him to talk her into having a drink together later.
Melissa frowned ever so slightly, a tiny line appearing between her eyebrows. ‘Actually, I need to speak with my wedding planner.’ She slipped a hand through the crook of Laurel’s arm and led her off to the side. ‘Why don’t you get our best man settled first?’
Noah hefted his carry-on bag over his shoulder. He hadn’t seen his suitcase since the airport so he assumed it was being dealt with somewhere, and would magically appear in his room when he needed it. He loved hotels. They were almost as good as film sets for having your every need seen to before you even knew what you needed.
‘You’ll turn into one of those puffed up idiots who don’t know the value of a hard day’s work.’
His dad’s voice in his head made Noah scowl, as it always did, but he shook the expression away before Eloise turned to face him and replaced it with his habitual charming smile.
‘Right. Okay.’ Eloise surveyed him with something akin to displeasure on her face, which gave Noah slight pause. Usually, women were delighted to score some alone time with him. And, from the way Eloise had stared at him on arrival, he’d naively assumed that she’d be the same.
Apparently, he was missing something here.
‘If you’ll just follow me, Mr Cross?’ Eloise said, every inch the professional, as she headed for the elevators at the back of the lobby. They had a Gothic-style metalwork design painted on the doors, which amused Noah. As an attempt to make them fit in with the rest of the surroundings of Morwen Hall, he supposed it was as good a try as any.
‘Guess these didn’t come with the building, huh?’ he asked as she pressed the button to call one. ‘The elevators, I mean. Sorry. They’re “lifts” here, right?’
‘That’s right,’ Eloise said with a nod. ‘And no. They didn’t have lifts when Morwen Hall was built.’
From her tone, Noah suspected she was already
