*
He looked up at the knock on the door. ‘Come in.’ Putting his newspaper down, he stood up then relaxed as Emma used her pass card to open the door.
‘Towels,’ she told him briskly, sidestepping him as she walked into the room.
‘Coffee?’ he suggested, watching her back view appreciatively as she disappeared into the bathroom.
‘Do you need more coffee?’ she asked him with a touch of impatience.
‘I have all the coffee I need, thank you. I just thought you might like a cup.’
‘I’m afraid that wouldn’t go down very well with my boss.’
‘You never used to worry about what your boss thought.’
She chose not to answer him. He moved in front of her so she couldn’t leave. ‘You’ve still got a job in London, if you want it.’
‘As what? Your part-time mistress?’ she said in the same clipped and professional voice.
Nothing quite so permanent, he thought as his appetite sharpened. ‘You could continue your training course.’
‘Thanks for the offer.’
‘And?’ he prompted.
‘And nothing.’
The lift of her brow said Emma believed he belonged to that group of gilded individuals who only had to look a certain way for a woman to fall at their feet. And she wasn’t one of them. She had carefully turned her face away from his naked chest. He hadn’t thought about it until now. He had slipped on a shirt and jeans for the sake of decency after his shower, not wanting to slob around in a robe, and only noticed now that the shirt wasn’t fastened.
‘Luc, I need to talk to you—’
‘And I to you,’ he assured her, but they were interrupted by a second knock on the door. ‘Breakfast. Hot coffee, freshly baked rolls. How can you resist?’
Easily, her look told him. Emma could resist the coffee and him.
She stood aside as he opened the door to let the waiter in, giving him all the chance he needed to admire her resolute profile: the firm mouth he loved to kiss, and the neat nose that made him smile when it wrinkled. Her expression right now was fixed in disapproval. How he’d love to soften that. He cleared the table for the waiter instead.
‘Join me?’
‘I beg your pardon?’ she said.
He loved the way she drew herself up. She still had to tilt her chin at an acute angle in order to meet his stare. ‘Join me for breakfast—coffee at least,’ he pressed as the waiter set out breakfast on his dining table.
‘Sorry, sir. I can’t do that,’ Emma told him firmly.
He could just imagine the rumours flying around the kitchen after this. He should be more considerate and think about her reputation, but this was the woman who had clung to him and wrapped her naked limbs around him as she’d begged him for more. Why was she acting so cool now? He stopped her at the door with a hand on her shoulder, and turning his back on the waiter he murmured, ‘Why don’t you lighten up?’
‘I’m not expected to lighten up,’ she replied, matching his discretion. ‘This is my job. I’m working.’
‘So being pleasant to guests isn’t part of your job description?’
‘There are limits,’ she said, glancing over his shoulder at the waiter.
‘If you didn’t work here, would you join me for coffee?’
‘If I didn’t work here, I wouldn’t be in your room.’
She turned and seized hold of the doorhandle—so tightly her knuckles turned white. ‘If you will excuse me?’
‘Allow me,’ he said.
There was a rapid transfer of hands as Emma whipped hers away before he could touch her. The waiter was ready to leave, and they both stood back to let him go. He tipped the man a fistful of coins. Once he was out of earshot he turned back to Emma. ‘Are you sure you won’t join me?’
‘Completely sure,’ she said firmly. ‘May I go now, sir?’
There were dozens of things rampaging behind her eyes that he guessed she would like to say, but not now. He decided to push a little harder to find out what was on her mind. ‘You do know I’m staying on for another few days?’
‘Yes, I heard.’
She had turned back to face him, and again that unsaid something flashed across her face. ‘If there’s something you need to say to me, Emma, just spit it out.’
She looked genuinely shocked for a moment, and then reverted to her role of efficient hotel employee. ‘Just call downstairs when you’re ready to leave, and they’ll have someone come up to collect your luggage.’
‘I think I can manage the cases myself,’ he gritted out. Digging into the back pocket of his jeans, he said, ‘Here...for you.’
‘What’s this?’ She frowned as he held out a twenty.
His patience was exhausted. ‘It’s money, Emma. What does it look like? It’s common practice in the hotel industry to offer money for good service. I’ve had you running up and down for the past couple of days. A tip is customary in Scotland as well as in London, I presume?’
She flinched as he pressed the note into her hand. And then, very slowly and deliberately, she folded it and placed it on the table just inside his door. ‘There are some excellent charities you can give this money to. But I’m not one of them. Have a good day, Senhor Marcelos,’ she added with a cool stare. ‘I hope you enjoy the rest of your stay.’
She’d changed—too much for him not to be suspicious. He watched with mixed emotions as Emma walked off down the corridor. From wild party girl to considered and efficient chambermaid, who looked as if butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth, was quite a leap. And he didn’t believe it for a minute. Pheromones were still dancing in the air. Round one to Emma, but the battle wasn’t over yet. In London she’d been all fire and passion, but now she was thoughtful and distant. She must know she couldn’t have prevented her parents’ death, so what was eating her?
He didn’t have time to waste thinking about it. He had business meetings stacked up end on end.
Emma remained in his head for the rest of the day—to the point where he cut things short, something he’d never done before, and all because he couldn’t wait to get back to the hotel to see Emma.
When he arrived and saw her waiting for the elevator as he walked into the lobby, his hunting instincts sharpened. She sensed, rather than saw him, and turned around as he walked towards her. ‘Good evening, Senhor Marcelos. I hope you’ve had a nice day?’
‘A highly successful day, thank you.’
She gave him a look as if to say, Is there any other kind of day for
