“Excellent. Do you know, I think his godfather stayed at The Sadler whenever he came up to London. Unfortunately, I don’t think I ever met him. Your grandfather’s career took us to Europe for most of those years.” A faraway look softened the lines of her grandmother’s face as she visited a past Alex could not see. Like the hotel itself, her grandmother was a repository of vivid memories, people, places and love.
Alex sighed. “At least, he knows where to find me,” she said as much to herself as to her grandmother, “if he’s interested in getting to know me better….”
“You say he has the small board room booked?”
“For the next six weeks.”
“Well done,” her grandmother approved. “And don’t forget, he’s a bachelor. He needs to eat. Perhaps you could invite him to dine with you in the Garden Room.”
“I thought discretion was our mantra.”
“It is, dear.” Miss Sadler’s eyes twinkled. “But it never hurts to have a handsome film star like Marc visit The Sadler. Especially when there’s royalty in residence. They love rubbing shoulders with celebrity.”
“Grannie! You’re incorrigible!”
“I know. Isn’t it wonderful?”
CHAPTER FIVE
Marc made note of the dialogue change on his copy of the script and slipped it into his folder. It had been a long, but productive meeting. “One more pass at the third act should do it,” he told his scriptwriter, “then we send it out.”
“Brace yourself,” Tim said as he stuffed his own pages and laptop into his briefcase. He got to his feet and rolled his shoulders. “Actors can be notoriously fickle.”
“Don’t I know it,” Marc said.
“No offence,” Tim offered with a grin. He picked up his briefcase. “How’s Friday work for you?”
“Perfect,” said Marc. “See you here.” As soon as Tim was out the door, Marc topped up his tea. He knew he and his partners were being spoiled, but who was he to argue? The board room at The Sadler was more comfortable than many of the other “offices” or trailers, for that matter, that he had ever worked in – quiet and professional. Someone, and he had a sneaky feeling he knew who it was, had anticipated his every need from equipment to pastries. A non-stop reminder that Alexis Kirkwood was just down the hall, breathing the same air, maybe even nibbling the same croissants.
Enough.
He had a lot riding on this project, and the day wasn’t over yet.
Reaching for his mobile phone, Marc thumbed through his contacts. As director and producer he was learning firsthand just how complicated the back end of the business could be. He started with his wardrobe designer. After confirming that she was in touch with his expert in period costume at Oxford, he called his location scout, and then his casting agent.
Laying his phone back down, Marc scrubbed his face. Between worrying about the production and his endless yearning for Alex, he hadn’t been sleeping well.
He had been working at The Sadler for three days now, and other than an echo of Alex’s voice and a glimpse of her disappearing down a corridor, he had yet to lay eyes on her. Work distracted him, but the long evenings as he rattled around his empty flat were punctuated by endless images of her, the scent of her, the feel of her body melding into his own. He had hoped she would seek him out, but she hadn’t. From Jeremy, he knew that she was incredibly busy.
But he wasn’t about to wait any longer.
Instinct told him he had to make the next move. To show Alex that he was willing to compromise, to support her in any way he could. Perhaps then she would respond to him as she had the other evening before the weight of responsibility had scared her away.
Leaving the boardroom, Marc headed toward the hotel’s executive offices. The door to Alex’s office was ajar. Marc paused on the threshold, determined, but not wanting to intrude.
Alex was not alone. An older woman stood by Alex’s desk, holding a file and shaking her head. “I haven’t been able to contact him. He’s not answering calls.”
“We’ve been calling him ‘Hector the obstinate’ since I was a kid,” Alex muttered. “Always difficult, always causing grief…. ”
“He still is,” Clare replied. “I’ve left several messages.”
Interesting, thought Marc. If someone was upsetting Alex, he wanted to know who it was. He rapped his knuckles against the door.
The two women turned to look in his direction.
“I apologize if I’m interrupting,” said Marc as he stepped into the room, “but I heard Miss Sadler was home, and I wanted to ask how she was. I can come back later.” He cocked his head. “Should that be more convenient.”
He was rewarded with a wide smile from Alex. “No, please stay. We were just finishing.” She turned to the secretary. “Let’s send a registered letter, and we’ll follow up in a couple of days.” Clare nodded, gave Marc a tentative smile, and then slipped out of the office.
Alex rose from the desk and came over to Marc, eyes searching his face. She looked pale to him, and the circles under her eyes had deepened. He had the distinct impression that she could really use a friend right now. Once again his desire to fold her into his arms nearly overpowered him…but if it was a friend she needed, it was a friend she would get.
“How’s Miss Sadler?” he asked. He wouldn’t step closer, wouldn’t reach out to caress the soft curve of her cheek.
But he swore she knew exactly what he was thinking by the rise and fall of her chest. Her breath hitched, and then suddenly she was glowing with happiness. Whether it was because of him or her grandmother’s return to health, Marc wasn’t sure. He just knew he was happy to be with Alex and to see the light return to her eyes. “I was on my way up to her suite right now,” she said, “if you’d like to come along?”
“I’d love to, if you’re sure she won’t mind.”
Alex laughed. “My grandmother? Nothing cheers her up more than male company. And you definitely fit the bill,” she added without batting an eye. “Grannie’s bored silly, poor dear, and even though she never complains, I think she’s still a bit uncomfortable.”
“Then I’ll do my best to distract her.” Marc knew he was grinning like an idiot, but he was just so pleased to be walking down the halls of The Sadler with Alex at his side. It felt completely natural…completely right.
When the elevator opened and they stepped inside, Marc leaned over and whispered, “I think you have to press the button at least four times to make it go.”
Alex’s eyes flew to his, ready to do battle, took one look at his face and then she choked back a gurgle of laughter. “You’re never going to let me forget that, are you?”
“Nope.” They faced forward, gazing at each other in the burnished reflection of the brass walls. The subdued lighting drew out the copper highlights in Alex’s hair, and the air crackled with tension. To deny their attraction was to deny nature. Marc breathed in deeply, trying to hold the essence of her within his lungs.
They stood silently, communicating in a million little ways, as the elevator hummed its way to the upper floors. A sudden jerk, followed by a grinding noise, and then…nothing.
“Damn,” Alex muttered. Her eyes instinctively rose again to meet Marc’s. He stared at her blandly, only a slight twitch showing his amusement.
“You don’t happen to know how to fix an elevator, do you?” Alex asked.
Marc shook his head. “No. Plumbing’s my specialty. This happen often?”
“Never,” said Alex. She felt flushed and angry. These things just didn’t happen at The Sadler. And they certainly didn’t happen to her.
“My advice would be to push every button in sight…repeatedly….”
“That’s not funny.” She felt close to tears.
“Hey,” said Marc softly. “It’s not the end of the world.”
She glanced up at his face. Mistake. Big mistake. “The…the fan doesn’t seem to be working either,” she managed.
/> Marc put his hands on her shoulders and gently turned her toward him. “Are you sure that’s the problem?”
Without a second thought, Alex stepped closer, so that her eyes were level with his chin. He leaned down and brushed her forehead with his lips. Soft. Warm. The stubble on his chin rasping gently against her hairline, the bristles teasing the soft tendrils around her face. Their eyes met for a fraction of a second, and then Marc’s arms encircled her, pressing her hard against his chest, his mouth searching hungrily for hers. She gave a soft moan of desire, of contentment. Her arms reached up around his neck, fingers sliding through his hair. His lips pressed harder, parted, inviting, tongue teasing. Alex responded, offering everything, melting into him, breathing him, feeling him, and then.…
“Miss Kirkwood? Miss Kirkwood? Are you in there?” Jeremy’s voice echoed through the small space, shattering the air.
Alex froze, and after a stunned second pushed herself away from Marc’s arms.
Marc cursed softly and ran a hand through his hair.
“Jeremy.” Alex tugged her suit jacket into place. “The elevator stalled. What’s the problem?”
“A circuit breaker tripped. It’s fixed now and reset. Just push the button and the elevator will start again.”
“Thank you, Jeremy.” Alex closed the intercom.
“Wait,” Marc muttered. His hand caressed the small of Alex’s back. She looked over her shoulder at him, feeling tears threatening to overwhelm her, and shook her head. “I can’t. Not now.” Frowning, he nodded acquiescence and released her.
All too soon the elevator pinged.
Eugenie Sadler’s eyes fluttered open at their approach. She was ensconced in a deep blue wingchair near the window with her legs resting on a matching ottoman and a cushion to support her injured ankle. A silk shawl was draped about her shoulders and she was surrounded by the memorabilia of a vibrant life, on the tables, walls, and the baby grand. It was both a picture of luxury and a private glimpse of a woman who had relished a full life. He adored her, Marc realized with a start.
Drawing on a role he had once played on stage, he crossed the room, took the elderly woman’s frail hand in his.
“Miss Sadler.” He kissed the back of her hand.
“Mr. Daniels.” Her voice sparkled like champagne. “I see your ability to make a charming entrance isn’t confined to the screen.”
“You haven’t seen any of my movies, have you?”
“Not yet,” Miss Sadler said. “But Helen found you for me on the internet.”
“Grannie!” exclaimed Alexis. She’d come to stand beside him. “Where is Helen, by the way?”
“Gone to fetch my hot water bottle before the tea arrives.” She swung her attention back to Marc. “You will join us, won’t you?”
“I’d love to,” he replied. Women were fascinating at any age, thought Marc, following Alex over to a cream-coloured sofa. He sat down next to her, feigning disinterest as she wiggled closer to the corner. He gave her an innocent look. “Comfy?” he asked.
“Very.”
Helen had appeared with the hot water bottle, introductions were made, and then the tea tray arrived. Four cups, Marc noted. With tiny sandwiches, fruit and a sponge cake. “I haven’t eaten this well in ages,” he said accepting a plate from Helen. “I’ll have to jog around Hyde Park three times.”
She smiled in response, and the ice was broken.
One of his specialties, Marc thought wryly. He kept his audience in a ripple of laughter with tales of his misadventures in the film industry while they had their tea. He was careful to avoid Alex’s eyes. She had an uncanny ability to sense his next move which, at the moment was to find an unoccupied suite and finish what they had started in the elevator.
Timing was everything and theirs never seemed to work out.
“These are delicious,” he said, taking a cucumber and cress sandwich. “I haven’t had time to stock my kitchen yet. If it wasn’t for your chef and the coffee shops in Kensington, I would starve to death.”
He heard Alex snort beside him.
“In that case, have a tart,” said Alex smiling sweetly as she offered him the plate; her fingers brushed his as he took and then nearly dropped the delicacy. “Two can play this game, you know,” she murmured.
“My husband was very fond of these pastries,” Miss Sadler was saying. “He was in the foreign service, as was my son-in-law, Alex’s father, but The Sadler remained our home base.”
“For all of us,” Alex offered. “Especially when Mum and Dad were on the other side of the world, and Jamie and I were here at boarding school. Holidays were at The Sadler.”
A vision of a skinned-kneed Alexis tearing around the plush corridors brought a genuine smile to Marc’s lips. “I’ll bet you terrorized the place.”
Alex’s eyes twinkled, but she remained silent.
“And what about you Marc?” Helen stepped in.
“Upstate New York mostly, while my parents taught at several different colleges. A well-loved only child with a vivid imagination. Reading was a family pastime.”
“And do you still call New York home?” Miss Sadler eyed him keenly.
“I’m comfortable there,” said Marc, “but it’s not where my heart is.”
“And where is that?”
“Interesting question,” said Marc. He felt a surprising rush of emotion, and masked it by reaching for another pastry. Where was his home? Not the Hollywood condo; not the latest university town where his parents had settled in anticipation of their retirement. Was it England? He couldn’t help but look at the young woman beside him. As yet, home was an unknown, except maybe now he had a vague sense that Alex should be in it. “England,” he said firmly.
Alex set her tea cup down with a clatter. “We’ve tired you out, Grannie.”
“Nonsense,” came the reply. “I’m fine.” But Alex was already on her feet, coming towards her grandmother.
Marc rose as well. “I’m afraid I have to agree with your granddaughter,” he said to Miss Sadler. “Perhaps I may visit another time?” he asked.
“I’ll check my diary,” sniffed the matriarch.
“Grannie!”
“But things were just getting interesting.”
Marc went over to say “good bye”, and diffused the situation with a kiss on Miss Sadler’s powdered cheek. Mollified, she blinked back at him. “Don’t take no for an answer,” she whispered.
Alex was waiting for him in the corridor, chest out, hands on hips. On another occasion, he would have to tell her how sexy she was when she was riled. Instead he linked his arm in hers, swung her around and marched her towards the elevator.
“You’re playing right into Grannie’s hands. You know that don’t you!” she hissed trying to wriggle out of his grasp.
“Oh, come on, Alex…you’re the one who said she was bored silly.”
“Don’t Alex me!”
“Hey,” Marc tugged her to one side of an 18th century armoire. “I was the one being interrogated, remember?”
The blood was pounding in his ears. Everything he’d ever wanted was in his arms. She didn’t give a hoot who he was, or how rich he was, or what he could do for her career. If anything, the opposite was true. The Sadler, as it had just become even more apparent, was her life, but she was missing the same thing he was. Someone to share it with.
And, after their brief exchange in the elevator, he knew in his heart that their feelings were not based on lust, their feelings were much deeper than that. Two grown-up people, at the turning points in their lives, were doing their best to avoid each other lest they upset the delicate balance they’d achieved.
And after three days of torment, hearing her voice, sensing her presence whenever he entered the hotel, he was wound tighter than a drum. “Alex…for once, I do not want you to say, ‘not here’. Because I desperately need to kiss you.”
Her lips parted.
She said no
thing.
He lowered his head to hers.
It was heaven. Soft, swirling with a silky passion that spoke of love, and longing, not just for the joy of their physical attraction, but the excitement at finding a connection that promised both. He tasted her desire as he deepened their embrace, cupping his hand beneath her bottom and pulling her closer to him, savouring her response as she slid her hand around the back of his head and answered him in kind.
He wished it could last forever, but playing in the back of his mind was the fear of being interrupted. He might be frustrated by Alex’s scruples, but he had no intention of adding to her angst.
With reluctance, Marc disengaged. He gently nipped at Alex’s bottom lip until he realized he was driving them both mad with desire. Drawing back, he rested his forehead on hers. He could feel the heat rising between them, but he forced himself to ignore it.
For the first time since Alex had become the “face” of The Sadler, she’d thrown caution to the wind. Desire made him want to prolong the moment, but respect for this woman he so desperately wanted to be with, was far more important.
“I’ll take the stairs.”
Nodding mutely, Alex straightened her skirt.
He brushed her forehead with his lips. And then silently walked away, not looking back, not daring to damage the moment. He reached the stairwell, and ignoring the pounding in his heart and the throbbing in his veins, left her in peace.
Alex closed the office door behind her and leaned against it. Her cheeks were burning. She felt weak-kneed, weak-willed, and as giddy as a teenager. She heard a sliver of laughter and realized it came from her! Stuck in an elevator with the man of her dreams, how often did that happen in real life!
The stress of the last few days wasn’t going to magically disappear, she thought as she wandered over to the desk, but Marc had shown he understood her dilemma, and that alone was worth savouring. How many men either could or would try to understand that The Sadler was more than a business; it was her birthright.
She wasn’t even angry with her grandmother anymore, although Grannie had been a little too direct in her conversation with Marc. Eugenie Sadler might have been ahead of her time in many ways, but there was something very Victorian going on behind the scenes. And she, Alex, was part of the plan.
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