fix the core problems than have the staff jump though the hoops of an extended performance review.
Cameron slid the paper into his jacket pocket. “I’ll check these after I have the chance to clean up. If you can have someone show us to our room.”
He hurried her on purpose, curious if the room extras were ready to go. The bath wasn’t a tough request, but the flowers had most likely needed to be flown in. If he hadn’t been specifically looking for it, he might have missed the smallest hesitation on her part.
“Certainly.” She lifted a tablet from the granite countertop where she worked. “If you can just sign here to approve the information you provided over the phone, I’ll escort you myself.”
That wasn’t protocol. Did Ms. Delphine expect additional tips this way? Cam remembered reading that the concierge had been with the company since the reopening under McNeill ownership two months ago.
Signing his fake name on the electronic screen, he fished for information. “Are you understaffed?”
She ran a pair of keycards through the machine and slid them into a small welcome folder.
“Definitely not. We’ll have Rudolfo bring your bags. I just want to personally ensure the suite is to your liking.” She handed him the packet with the keys while giving a nod to the bell captain. “Can I make a dinner reservation for you this evening, Mr. Holmes?”
Cameron juggled the restless dog, who was no doubt more travel-weary than him. They’d taken a private jet, but even with the shorter air time, there’d been limo rides to and from airports, plus a boat crossing from Charlotte Amalie to the Carib Grand since the hotel occupied a small, private island just outside the harbor area in Saint Thomas. He’d walked the dog when they hit the ground at the airfield, but Poppy’s owner had cautioned him to give the animal a certain amount of rest and play each day. So far on Cam’s watch, Poppy had clocked zero time spent on both counts. For a pampered show dog, she was proving a trouper.
As soon as he banished the hotel staff including Maresa Delphine, he’d find a quiet spot on the beach where he and his borrowed pet could recharge.
“I’ve heard a retired chef from Paris opened a new restaurant in Martinique.” He would be spending some time on that island where his half brothers were living. “I’d like a standing reservation for the rest of the week.” He had no idea if he’d be able to get over there, but it was the kind of thing a good concierge could accommodate.
“I’ve heard La Belle Palm is fantastic.” Maresa punched a button on the guest elevator while Rudolfo disappeared down another hall with the luggage. “I haven’t visited yet, but I enjoyed Chef Pierre’s La Luce on the Left Bank.”
Her words brought to mind her résumé that he’d reviewed briefly before making the trip. She’d worked at a Paris hotel prior to accepting her current position.
“You’ve spent time in Paris, Ms. Delphine?” He set Poppy on the floor, unfurling the pink jeweled leash that had matched the carrying case Mrs. Trager had given him. He’d kept all the accessories except for that one—the huge pink pet carrier made Cam look like he was travelling with Barbie’s Dreamhouse under his arm.
“She’s so cute.” Maresa kept her eyes on the dog and not on him. “And yes, I lived in Paris for a year before returning to Saint Thomas.”
“You’re from the area originally?” He almost regretted setting the dog down since it removed a barrier between them. Something about Maresa Delphine drew him in.
His gaze settled on the bare arch of her neck just above her jacket collar. Her thick brown hair had been clipped at the nape, ending in a silky tail that curled along one shoulder. A single pearl drop earring rolled along the tender expanse of skin, a pale contrast to her rich brown complexion.
“I grew up in Charlotte Amalie and worked in a local hotel until a foreign exchange program run by the corporate owner afforded me the chance to work overseas.” She glanced up at him. Caught him staring.
The jolt of awareness flared, hot and unmistakable. He could tell she felt it, too. Her pupils dilated a fraction, dark pools with golden rims. His heartbeat slugged heavier. Harder.
He forced his gaze away as the elevator chimed to announce their arrival on his floor. “After you.”
He held the door as she stepped out into the short hall. They passed a uniformed attendant with a gallon-sized jug stuffed under his arm, a pair of earbuds half-in and half-out of his ears. After a quick glance at Maresa, the young man pulled the buds off and jammed them in his pocket, then shoved open a door to the stairwell.
“Here we are.” Maresa stepped aside so Cam stood directly in front of the entrance to the Antilles Suite.
Poppy took a seat and stared at the door expectantly.
Cameron used the keycard to unlock the suite, not sure what to expect. Was Maresa Delphine worthy of what the company compensated her? Or had she returned to her hometown in order to bilk guests out of extra tips and take advantage of her employer? But she didn’t appear to be looking for a bonus gratuity as her gaze darted around the suite interior and then landed on him.
Poppy spotted the patch of natural grass just outside the bathroom door. The sod rested inside a pallet on carpeted wheels, the cart painted in blues and tans to match the room’s decorating scheme. The dog made a break for it and Cam let her go, the leash dangling behind her.
Lilacs flanked the crystal decanters on the minibar. Through the open door to the bathroom, Cameron could see the bubbles nearing the edge of the tub, the hot water still running as steam wafted upward.
So far, Maresa had proven a worthy concierge. That was good for the hotel, but less favorable for him, perhaps, since her high standards surely precluded acting on a fleeting elevator attraction.
“If everything is to your satisfaction, Mr. Holmes, I’ll leave you undisturbed while I go make your dinner reservations for the week.” She hadn’t even allowed the door to close behind them, a wise practice, of course, for a female hotel employee.
Rudolfo was already in the hall with the luggage cart. Cameron could hear Maresa giving the bellhop instructions for his bags. And Poppy’s.
“Thank you.” Cameron turned his back on her to stare out at the view of the hotel’s private beach and the brilliant turquoise Caribbean Sea. “For now, I’m satisfied.”
The room, of course, was fine. Ms. Delphine had passed his first test. But was he satisfied? No. He wouldn’t rest until he knew why the guest reviews of the Carib Grand were lower than anticipated. And satisfaction was the last thing he was feeling when the most enticing woman he’d met in a long time was off-limits.
That attraction would be difficult to ignore when it was imperative he uncover all her secrets.
As much as Maresa cursed her alarm clock chirping at her before dawn, she never regretted waking up early once she was on the Carib Grand’s private beach before sunrise. Her mother’s house was perched on a street high above Saint Thomas Harbor, which meant Maresa took a bike to the ferry each morning to get to the hotel property early for these two precious hours of alone time before work. Her brother was comfortable
