by Ruth Langan
If she paused for several seconds after locking the door to her suite, it wasn’t because she was waiting for Drew to step out of his room. Hearing no sound coming from the room across the hall she squared her shoulders and walked to the elevator.
Downstairs she made her way to her office where Daniel O’Malley was cradling a phone to his shoulder while writing furiously. He smiled and waved as she sailed toward her inner office.
Minutes later he knocked and walked to her desk, handing her a list of phone calls and messages. “Mr. Hampton was here earlier.”
Her head came up sharply. For a minute she couldn’t seem to breathe. “Has he already left?”
Her assistant shook his head. “Not yet. He said if you were down early enough he’d like you to join him for breakfast. But that was more than an hour ago.”
Her heart fell. It was his last morning here. Her last chance to talk to him alone. They might have been able to use this time to clear the air between them. And she’d wasted it fussing over her clothes.
Just then there was a sharp rap and Drew poked his head around the open door. In his hands was a linen-covered tray.
Celeste’s smile bloomed. “I was afraid I’d missed you.”
“No such luck.” He strode across the room. “I already had my breakfast.” He easily moved aside her paperwork and set the tray in the middle of her desk. “But I thought we could share a last espresso together.”
Hearing the phone in the outer office ringing, Daniel stepped back and closed the door, leaving them alone.
“Are you all packed?” Celeste watched as Drew pulled up a chair and settled himself across from her.
He nodded as he reached for the coffee cup and crossed his legs, easing himself back. “My bags are in the car. Now I can relax. No need to rush. I have about an hour before your grandfather’s due to arrive.”
“Have you decided what you’ll recommend to your board?”
He gave her an easy smile. “Yeah.”
Seeing that he intended to say nothing more, she busied herself unfolding a napkin and picking up her cup. If this was some sort of contest, she had no intention of being first to blink.
“How did your gab session with your fellow businesswomen go last night?”
“Fine.” She forced a brightness to her voice she wasn’t feeling. “I’m really glad they happened along. They saved us from…doing something we’d probably be regretting by now.”
“Yeah. You’re right.” He drank his coffee without even tasting it. “It gave me a chance to have a really good night of sleep before facing that long flight to London.”
They both glanced up at the ringing of her phone.
She snatched it after the first ring, annoyed at the interruption. “Not now, Daniel.”
She paused, then her face became wreathed with smiles. “Of course I’ll speak with him. Grandpa Sully. Are you in the lobby?” She glanced at Drew. “Yes. He’s here. All right.” She pressed a button before returning the receiver to its cradle. “Go ahead, Grandpa Sully. I have you on the speaker phone.”
“Andrew?” Patrick Sullivan’s brogue boomed over the line. “Can you hear me?”
Drew grinned. “Loud and clear, sir. How was your flight?”
“That’s what I’m calling about. There’s been another delay. I’m sorry to be making such a mess of things. I know you were planning on leaving Liberty today.”
Drew arched a brow and glanced at Celeste. “Well, I do have a lot of work piling up…”
“Of course you do. But it can’t be helped. Something came up here. I’m going to be tied up for a couple more days.”
“Fine, sir. I’ll just fly down to Venice after I take care of a little business in London.”
“No, Andrew.” The old man’s voice sounded surprisingly firm. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to insist that you wait for me there.”
Drew sighed and set aside his cup, leaning closer to the phone. “I suppose I could delay my departure if you think it’s that important.”
“I do, lad. I hope this doesn’t inconvenience you too much.”
Drew was already glancing at his watch, considering the flight plans that would have to be cancelled, the phone calls he’d have to make, explaining yet another delay. “When do you expect to get in?”
“I can’t give you a firm day or time yet. Let me clear the decks with a few things and I’ll get back to you.” Without a pause for breath the old man continued, “Celeste, my darlin’ lass, I look forward to some time alone with you.”
“I can’t wait to see you, Grandpa Sully. Call me and let me know when to expect you.”
“I will, lass. Count on it. Goodbye, Andrew. Celeste.”
The line went dead.
Drew drained his cup and set it on the tray, then got to his feet. He couldn’t decide if he was happy or annoyed at this latest change of plans. But one thing was certain. It was definitely playing havoc with his heart. The roller coaster had just taken another hill at top speed.
“I’d better get my luggage up to my room. I have some calls to make.” He started across the room, then paused as another thought struck. “Would you mind clearing this with your front desk? I’d already checked out.”
Celeste nodded.
When he was gone, she steepled her hands and leaned forward, resting her chin on them. Temptation, it seemed, wasn’t about to be snatched from her after all. She’d have a few more days to fight the battle she’d been waging since Drew first arrived here.
But now she had something more to worry about, as well. Her grandfather had been so insistent upon meeting with Drew here instead of in Venice. That could only mean he intended to prepare her for the imminent loss of her hotel to the Van Dorn chain.
She stood and began to pace, trying to sort through so many conflicting thoughts. On the one hand, the sale of the tavern would free her to move on to something bigger, more glamorous. Wasn’t that what she’d wanted? She paused. She wasn’t sure anymore. Always before, the thought of moving on had brought a sense of exhilaration. A feeling of excitement at the coming challenge. But now, suddenly, with the thought looming before her, she felt a wave of sadness. She’d poured so much of herself into this place. Every room bore her signature. Every employee had been personally chosen by her. Except, of course, Jeremiah, who had such a long history with the Old Liberty Tavern, and had become as much a fixture as the ancient clock in the lobby. She would miss him. Miss this place.
She shrugged off her sense of impending loss. She realized that she had work to do. There was no time to brood. She picked up the phone and punched in a number.
Hearing the voice on the other end she said, “Bitsy, there’s been a change in Mr. Hampton’s plans. He won’t be checking out after all.” She paused. “No, I don’t know his check-out date. Leave that detail open.”
She hung up the phone and bent to her paperwork, determined to blot out all thought except the work ahead of her. Work had always been her refuge when she was mulling over troublesome problems.
Drew dialed the phone. While waiting to be put through to the chairman of Van Dorn Hotels he shrugged out of his suit jacket and began tugging off his tie and opening the neck of his shirt. He frowned at the open suitcase, contemplating the thought of unpacking, and later, repacking all those things.
“Mr. Van Dorn.”
“Andrew. I didn’t expect to hear from you until you arrived in London. Are you already en route?”
“No. Sorry. My plans have changed again.” In a few brief words he explained about Patrick Sullivan’s unexpected delay, and the opportunity to meet with him face-to-face. “There was no way I could politely refuse. Nor would I want to. I suspect he’s prepared to offer us a deal.”
“Excellent.” The voice on the other end sounded jubilant. “How soon will the two of you meet?”
“I don’t know. He said he’d let me know when to expect him. But it might not be for a couple of days.”
“You’re taking this
very well, Andrew. I’m sure it can’t be easy to spend so much time in the middle of nowhere. But I want you to know Van Dorn Hotels will never forget this sacrifice you’re making for the sake of the company. We value such loyalty.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Now land that fish for us, Andrew. You may consider it a minnow, but it could become a whale of an opportunity for Van Dorn Hotels in the U.S.”
“Yes, sir.” Drew replaced the receiver and sat back, feeling like a hypocrite. Sacrifice? If that was true, why was he feeling like a kid who’d just been given a couple of days off school?
Restless, he booted up his computer and rolled up his sleeves before reading the dozen or more e-mails awaiting him, replying to each in turn. Then he sent off a number of faxes before turning to the phone messages.
It was several hours before he managed to make a dent in the paperwork. But, he thought, at least he wouldn’t have to think about packing again for a couple more days.
He strolled out to the balcony of his room and caught sight of Celeste down in the courtyard talking to a member of the cleaning crew. She was gesturing, and the man nodding as she explained what she wanted him to do.
As she walked away Drew watched her with naked hunger. Alone in his room he didn’t have to put on the game face he showed to the rest of the world.
He leaned a hip against the railing of the balcony and crossed his arms over his chest. He didn’t think it was possible to get through a few more days without getting his hands on her. Just seeing her made him ache with need.
This had been a big mistake. He knew that now. Seeing her again had made him realize that he still wanted her as much as ever. But he had put himself in an impossible position. If Patrick Sullivan intended to come here to make a deal, he would have to advise the board of Van Dorn Hotels to take it. To do otherwise would be to betray the trust of the company that paid his salary. But by doing that, Celeste would always resent him for taking over something she’d worked so hard to revive.
He’d been put in the unenviable position of being damned if he did; damned if he didn’t. And carrying the weight of two corporations on his shoulders.
Jeremiah spotted Drew stepping off the elevator. “Good evening, Mr. Hampton.”
Drew smiled. “Jeremiah.”
“I haven’t seen you around all day.” The old man looked at him closely. “Don’t tell me you’ve spent such a beautiful day in your room.”
Drew nodded. “I’ve been letting a lot of paperwork pile up, hoping to handle it back in London. But since I’m not going there just yet, I figured I’d better deal with it.”
The old man walked across the lobby beside him. “I heard that your plans had changed yet again. I hope you don’t mind being forced to spend a few more days in our little town.”
“Not at all, Jeremiah. I can’t think of a nicer place to be than right here in Liberty.”
The old man paused. “I believe you mean that.”
“I do, Jeremiah. This place has completely won me over. It would be easy to lose my heart to the Old Liberty Tavern.”
Jeremiah beamed. “I know exactly what you mean, Mr. Hampton. It happened to me a lifetime ago. And though I’ve been all over the world, this is the place I’ve always chosen to come back to.”
Drew arched a brow. “It seems to me that Celeste mentioned something about you traveling with her grandfather. But I didn’t know you’d been all over the world.”
“Oh my, yes. Paddy and I used to arrange to meet in India, or Tibet, or on a South Sea island.” He chuckled, remembering. “We’d go about looking like common tourists, trying out every hotel around, to see if there was anything worth adding to the Sullivan empire.”
“So you and Paddy go back a long way.”
“A very long way, sir.” He opened the heavy front door for a guest just arriving, carrying a yapping Pekinese in her arms. “Good evening, Mrs. Boudreau. Shall I hold Princess while you check in?”
The woman gave him a dazzling smile. “Thank you, Jeremiah.” She handed over the little dog. “Oh, Princess and I have missed you so much. What would we do without the Old Liberty Tavern to visit every now and then?”
She crossed the lobby to the front desk, while Jeremiah soothed and petted the dog until it fell silent.
The old man glanced over at Drew. “I’ve enjoyed our little chat, Mr. Hampton, but I’m afraid I’ll have to help Mrs. Boudreau settle into her suite now. By the way, Miss Celeste asked you to join her in the courtyard.”
“She did?” Drew couldn’t hide his surprise. He figured she’d be avoiding him like a plague until after he and her grandfather had concluded their business.
Jeremiah nodded. “The Old Liberty Tavern is hosting a musicale under the stars this evening. I think you’ll enjoy it.”
When he walked away, Drew continued staring after him. There was a twinkle in the old man’s eyes. And a spring to his step. He found himself wondering just what had caused it. Then he shrugged aside the thought. Whether it was the anticipated arrival of Paddy Sullivan, or the presence of the lovely Mrs. Boudreau, mattered not.
He went off in search of Celeste, feeling more than a little pleased that she’d sent for him.
Almost every chair in the courtyard was filled with people tapping their toes to popular show tunes. Right now the band was playing a rollicking song from The Music Man.
Waiters moved among the tables, balancing trays and dispensing drinks. Couples old and young sat entranced by the spell of the music.
Drew glanced around. It was an easy matter to spot Celeste. Her red hair was like a beacon in a sea of brunettes. She stood unobtrusively to one side, careful not to block the view of any of the guests. When one of the waiters brought her a chair, she sat, keeping an eye on the wait staff as they circulated among the guests.
The music changed. Slowed. The haunting notes of “Summertime” drifted on the evening air.
Drew remained in the shadows, studying Celeste. He found it impossible to look away. He loved watching her. The way the breeze caught her hair and lifted it. The way she looked in profile as she studied the crowd. He could almost see the pride in her eyes.
As if sensing him, she turned her head. For the space of a second their gazes met and held. He felt as if all the air had been knocked from his lungs.
Had he imagined that heat? Was he simply seeing things that weren’t really there?
The music ended and there was enthusiastic applause. Celeste got to her feet and started toward the door. Drew turned and followed her inside.
She was already halfway across the foyer when he caught up with her. Feeling his hand on her arm she whirled. “You’re following me.”
“You invited me.”
She had her hands on her hips. “I what?”
“Jeremiah told me you wanted me to join you in the courtyard.”
“I did?” She paused, thinking back to the last time she’d spoken to Jeremiah. It was true that Drew’s name had come up. But she was pretty sure it had been Jeremiah who had done the talking. It was too late in the day. Her mind was too befuddled. She couldn’t remember anything too clearly after sixteen hours on her feet. She shrugged. “If I did, I can’t remember why.”
Drew began walking along beside her. “As long as we’re both here, how about some dinner? When’s the last time you ate?”
She paused. “I guess I forgot to eat today. I don’t think I’ve had anything since that espresso you brought me this morning.”
“There. You see?” His smile was quick, easy. “Time to fuel that body, Ms. Sullivan. Where would you like to eat? Here? Or in town?”
She thought a minute. “What I’d really like to do is get out of these clothes and into something comfortable. Maybe I’ll just order up to my room.”
“Sounds good. Order enough for two.”
She paused at the elevator, shaking her head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Drew.”
“All right, then. Let’s make it my room
.” He stepped inside and punched the button for the top floor.
Celeste was forced to step inside or be left behind. As the doors glided closed he gave her that killer smile.
She looked away. But not before her heart absorbed another blow. She’d probably regret this later. But right at the moment she was feeling weak. And far too tired to argue.
At least that’s all she was willing to admit to at the moment. If there was more to this…well, she’d deal with it later.
“All right. My room. Half an hour. If you’re late, I won’t guarantee there’ll be anything left but crumbs.”
Chapter 9
At the knock on her door Celeste hurried to open it. She felt a quick sexual tug at the sight of Drew in jeans and a T-shirt. Without the cover of a suit jacket his body seemed even more perfectly sculpted, with wide, muscled shoulders and trim, narrow waist and hips. It was a body she’d once known as intimately as her own.
She glanced at his bare feet. “You forgot your shoes.”
“You did say casual.” He stepped inside.
She stared pointedly at the ice bucket in his hand. In it were several amber bottles. She wrinkled her nose. “You brought beer?”
“Not just any beer. Wait until you taste this.”
“Where did you get it?”
“From your bar downstairs.” At her arched look he added, “Yeah. I know. It’ll be added to my bill. But it’s worth it. You stock an excellent selection.”
She laughed. “Of course we do. I told you. I chose every item myself.”
“Ah, but have you tasted every one?”
“If I did, I wouldn’t be able to get any work done. I’d be perpetually drunk.”
“Which might not be all bad.” He leaned close and watched as she stepped back a pace. “At least you’d be relaxed for a change.”
“Relaxed? I’d be unconscious.”
He set the bucket on the bar and uncapped two bottles, pouring one into a glass for her. “Try this.”
She tasted. Paused. Considered. “It’s…different.”