Lilly (Angel Series Book 3)

by Tracy Lorraine

  “You’re lying,” I state, because it’s true.

  “I’m not. I’m really happy for them.”

  “I’m sure you are, but they weren’t happy tears.”

  My body continues forward until I’m stood right in front of her. Her breath catches at my closeness. Her scent mixes with the cleaning products she’s been using and it makes me mouth water. I reach over her shoulder and grab my phone, which is exactly where I left it. The screen tells me I need to shift my arse if I’m going to get to this meeting on time.

  “Have dinner with me tonight?” The words are out of my mouth before my brain realises it’s happened. Fuck, I shouldn’t have said that. She works for me. It goes against everything I’ve told myself I shouldn’t do. Maybe she’ll say no. It’s wishful thinking, since I’ve never been turned down before, but it’s worth a shot.

  “Thanks for the offer, but I’m okay, thank you.” I’m still close enough to her that as she speaks her breath tickles my neck, and fuck if it doesn’t bring my body to life. I haven’t had sex in…a long time for me. I’ve been too busy sorting this place out. This is fucking torture.

  I step back once her words register.

  “No?” I ask, in case I heard that wrong.

  She bites down on her bottom lip and I almost groan. Shit, I want to be the one doing that.

  “I’m sorry, Lucas. I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “Right…okay. Well, I’ll see you around then.” I quickly turn around and leave her standing there as I head for my car. I sit in the driver’s seat for a few minutes, processing what just happened.

  No one’s ever said no before.

  She might as well have just kicked me in the bollocks.

  Lilly

  The look on his face when I said no stayed with me for a long time after he’d gone. He really wasn’t expecting that. He’s good looking, yeah, and loaded, but who does he think he is? Brad bloody Pitt? The idea that a woman couldn’t possibly say no to him makes him even less of my type than before. I don’t want a guy who thinks that much of himself.

  I shake the thought from my head as I continue eating the lunch Lucas sent up as promised—a huge cheese and tomato baguette with chips and a side salad. I can’t deny that I wasn’t starving, so this is gratefully received and will get me through uni this afternoon.

  I don’t see or hear from Lucas again for a week. To begin with, I start to think he’s avoiding me after I refused to go out with him, but when I learn he’s been away at his other hotels I want to slap myself around the face for even considering that he might have cared about it that much. I’m sure the sting of my rejection lasted all of ten seconds. He’ll have found some other woman to stroke his ego, I’m sure.

  Weirdly though, it seems he’s still thinking about me, and I’m not sure how I feel about that, because every day I’ve been at work I’ve found something left for me. The first day, there was a tray on the coffee table. It had a card with my name on it, a plate of chocolate biscuits and a pot of tea. I wanted to be defiant and refuse his gift, but the chocolate called to me, so after arguing with myself for a whole five minutes I sat down and enjoyed my morning snack.

  Day two was a Danish pastry and a freshly squeezed glass of orange juice. Day three was fruit scones and another pot of tea. And finally, on day four, which was Sunday morning, an entire plate of a full English breakfast was delivered to the door. I almost sent it away. This whole thing was getting ridiculous, but second the smell of bacon hit my nose I knew I couldn’t do that, so I took the tray from the sheepish looking guy stood at the door and wolfed the lot down. I barely came up for air it was so good.

  I hate to admit it, but I missed my little treats on my days off. It wasn’t the same, having to make my own breakfast.

  Although I knew when he was due back—the gossip around the staff in this place is just like being in a school playground—I could tell from the moment I stepped foot in reception the next day. It was like everyone I’d seen was on edge. I hadn’t realised the atmosphere around the place had relaxed over the past week, but seeing the difference today makes it obvious.

  “He’s back,” Imogen whispers in my ear as we gather for our morning briefing.

  “I know, everyone’s running around like they’ve got rockets shoved up their backsides,” I say with a laugh as Hilary comes in, looking a little flustered.

  Everyone gets given their schedule and a pep talk before they all disappear.

  “Lilly, hang on a minute.” Hillary lets the others grab their stuff and leave before she says anything. “Sorry I haven’t touched base with you the last few days. I’ve been busy training up new staff. How’s it going up there? I’ve heard great things.”

  “Yeah it’s…uh…good, I guess. Great things from who?” I ask, a little baffled.

  “Mr. Dalton, obviously. He says you’re doing a great job. Apparently, the place was perfect when he arrived back last night.”

  I can’t help a surge of pride rush through me that the man who has such high expectations thinks I’m doing a good job. And then another thought hits me. Is he just saying this to sweeten me up for a date, just like he must be doing with the food deliveries? A bolt of anger hits me the second I think about it. How dare he? Just because he’s not bossing me around, then sacking me like all the others, it doesn’t mean I have to accept his dinner invitation.

  I say goodbye to Hillary and storm towards his room, thoroughly ticked off. I do my usual routine around the suite, but it doesn’t take as long as usual as he hasn’t been here all week, so I continue a job I’d started but not finished recently—the high up stuff that hardly ever gets touched.

  I’m quite happily balanced on the arm of the chair dusting the very top shelf in the living area when the slamming of the door makes me jump. I spin around in fright but manage to lose my footing at the same time. I close my eyes and brace myself for the pain of hitting the floor, but it doesn’t come.

  Instead, I find my face squashed against a rock-solid chest that just so happens to be covered in one of his usual expensive suits.

  “What are you doing, balancing on there? We have health and safety procedures for a reason, Lilly,” he chastises bluntly. Now this is more like the Mr. Dalton I was expecting since I started cleaning his suite: rude, abrupt and arrogant. I knew his true colours could only be covered for so long.

  Thankfully, he puts me back down on my feet. I step away from him because his smell is messing with my brain’s ability to function.

  “S…sorry, Mr. Dalton,” I say like a naughty child.

  “It’s Lucas,” he snaps.

  “Sorry,” I repeat.

  “What the hell were you doing?”

  “Dusting.”

  “Well, get a ladder next time. The paperwork I’d have to do if you’d hurt yourself is a bitch of a job,” he says sternly, but his lip twitches up at the side, so I’m not sure how serious he’s being.

  “Okay, well…thank you for…saving me?” I say, but it sounds like a question.

  I just bend down to pick up my duster when he speaks again. Only this time, his voice is deeper and huskier—dare it say it? Sexier.

  When I look back up at him, his blue eyes have darkened and he has a smirk on his face. “You should probably thank me properly.”

  “Should I?”

  “Yes,” he states and he takes a step towards me. “Thank me by agreeing to dinner with me tonight.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Mr…Lucas,” I say, correcting myself.

  “I don’t care if it’s a fucking good idea or not, Lilly.” I cringe at his harsh words. “I want to take you to dinner.”

  “No, Lucas,” I say, mustering up some strength from somewhere. Being this close to him and under his gaze makes it hard to think, let alone stand up for myself. “I think I’m finished for the day,” I say in a panic, because I need to get away from him as soon as possible. I have a feeling that he’s going to do whatever he can to get his
own way here.

  “Fine, but you will agree eventually.” Thankfully, he steps aside and lets me leave. It’s not until the door closes behind me that I let out the breath I was holding. I lean back against the wall and shut my eyes. I try to relax, but he’s got to me more than I want to admit. Eventually, I push off the wall and get as far away from him as I can.

  “Lilly, you’ve got a visitor.”

  I quickly wrap a towel around my body before pulling the door open to see who it is. I’m presuming it’s either Molly or Emma, so I don’t think twice about covering up more. I realise this is a huge mistake when I turn the corner to the living room.

  Stood in the middle of the room, with Taylor gawping at him, is Lucas. What the hell is he doing here?

  Taylor doesn’t notice I’ve walked in because he’s too busy drooling. Lucas is just his type, perfectly put together and once again wearing a suit. Taylor will be gutted he bats for the wrong team. Lucas spots me the second I enter, though. His eyes hold mine for a second before they slowly take in my towel-clad body. Damn it.

  “Lilly,” he says, after clearing his throat. “We’re going to dinner.”

  Lucas’ words distract Taylor, who turns to me with a massive grin on his face. Oh, here we go.

  “No, we’re not. I’m fairly sure I turned down your offer of dinner earlier.”

  “Lilly,” Taylor starts. He grabs my arm and turns us so we are slightly away from Lucas. “You cannot say no to that. He’s fucking gorgeous.”

  “Meh, he’s alright. But I’m not going out with him.”

  “Yes you are. One, he’s gorgeous,” he starts using his fingers to count his points. I inwardly groan as to how many reason he’s going to find that I should go. “Two, you haven’t been out in…well…forever. Three, he looks like he’s got money. Have you seen that suit? You’re guaranteed to have an amazing meal. Four, you need to enjoy yourself, maybe get laid—you work too hard. Five, did I mention he’s gorgeous? Six—”

  “Yeah, alright, I get your point,” I snap, interrupting him. “He’s my boss, Tay. I have no intention of dating him.”

  “He’s your boss?” he asks, turning to look directly at Lucas, who is still stood in the middle of the room with an amused expression on his face. I can only presume he’s heard every word, because Taylor isn’t exactly being quiet.

  “Yes, he’s my boss. I’m not going out with him.”

  “Can you get me a job with you? I could do with seeing that daily.”

  “Taylor, can you be serious for a minute? It’s a bad idea. Plus, he’s not my type.”

  “Oh, perfect isn’t your type?”

  Taylor and I stare at each other for a solid minute having a silent conversation. When it becomes clear I’m not going to win, I look away. “Oh, for goodness’ sake.”

  “She’ll be ready in thirty minutes. Make yourself at home.”

  I get dragged none to gently to my room, then shoved down on the bed while Taylor starts raiding my wardrobe.

  “There’s no point looking. I haven’t got anything to wear—not that will fit, anyway.”

  “Yes, you have. Where is that little black dress?”

  “No no no, I’m not wearing that.”

  “Yes, you are,” he states. “You’ll look hot.”

  After draping the dreaded dress over the edge of my bed, Taylor turns and starts rummaging through my underwear drawer.

  “I knew I bought you these for a reason.”

  When I look up, I see he’s got the tiny bit of fabric he bought me for Christmas hanging off his index finger. He decided I was too young to be spending my days in cotton knickers. I disagreed.

  “I’m not wearing that.” I can’t imagine anything worse.

  He gives me a look that tells me I’m going to do exactly as he says. Great.

  Twenty minutes later, I’m stood in front of my full-length mirror. I might be looking at myself, but all I can see is Hannah, my older sister. She died in a car crash two years ago. She was such a huge part of our family, and it left everyone crushed, especially Emma, her twin, who was in the car with her at the time.

  Things haven’t been the same since she died, but what I really struggle with is how much I look like her. Not only does it affect me when I look in the mirror, but I know everyone else sees her when they look at me. Emma is the only one who has admitted she’s found it hard to deal with, and apologised for distancing herself from me after the accident. Dec, my twin, is a typical guy and would never admit his feelings, but I know him almost better than I know myself, and I’ve seen how he looks at me sometimes. Mum and Dad would never admit it, but deep down I know they feel it. I can only imagine what it must be like to lose a child, your first born, let alone having a younger child that looks just like them.

  Although it’s hurt, I’ve tried to give them all some space while they’ve attempted to get their lives back on track. I hate that I’m not as close to them all as I used to be, growing up. I know I’ve always got Dec on my side. He may be hundreds of miles away in Exeter, but we’re so close that most days it feels like he’s right beside me. Plus, I’ve got Taylor, Imogen and Eve here in Cheltenham with me. They are amazing, and I don’t know what I’d do without them.

  “You look incredible, Lil,” Taylor says as he comes to stand behind me.

  I run my eyes over my body. I’m not sure incredible is quite the right word, but I look good, better than I have in a long time. My dress, although a little looser than it should be, is hugging my body. It has tiny spaghetti straps, an open back and a short hemline. My very minimal chest is just about covered with two triangles of the black fabric. I never show this much skin. I only bought the damn dress for someone’s twenty-first at uni last year; she demanded a dress code for her Vegas-style night.

  I tug at the fabric, trying to cover up some side boob, but my hand gets slapped away by Taylor. “Stop fussing. You look perfect. Now get out there and knock his fucking socks off before I attempt to turn him.”

  “Fine,” I mutter as I give myself one last look over in the mirror. I grab my blazer and my bag before heading for the living to find my boss—I mean date—while attempting to ignore the feeling of the scrap of fabric I’m meant to be referring to as underwear as I walk.

  Chapter Three

  Lucas

  She’s been inside my head all fucking day. By the time six o’clock rolls around, I decide that enough is enough. So what if she said no again when I asked her out earlier? I need to see her. I need to find out why, with only a few minutes of interaction, she has wiggled her way inside my head.

  I’m hopeful that if I spend some time with her I’ll realise I’ve built her up to be something she’s not in my mind, and I’ll be able to put her to one side and get on with my life.

  I’m Lucas Dalton, successful businessman. I run eight hotels, five restaurants and employ hundreds of people. I need to be focused. I shouldn’t allow someone to take up my thoughts—especially a certain golden-haired goddess called Lilly.

  I convince myself I’m doing the right thing as I go through my employee records to find her information. I only wanted her address, but curiosity gets the better of me and I ended up looking at everything. I make a mental note of her birthday after writing down her address and shutting the computer back down.

  I go about my usual routine as I get ready. It almost comes naturally now to look this way, like my colleagues and employees expect me to look. It doesn’t mean I like it, though. I stick my fingertips into my tub of wax and smooth my naturally shaggy hair back off my face. I repeat the action a couple of times until it’s perfect and looks the part. I pull on my grey suit and finish it off with a sky-blue tie, the colour of Lilly’s eyes. I give myself a mental slap around the face for that thought.

  Before I know it, I’m stood at the entrance to her building and ringing the buzzer. She lives in one of the traditional Regency style buildings that make up the town. The front door is huge, along with each of the windows facing
out over the park on the other side of the road. It isn’t the kind of building I was expecting a Cheltenham University student to be living in. It doesn’t exactly say student accommodation.

  The second I hear a male voice answer the intercom, I’m on edge. Fuck, of course she’s got a boyfriend. I didn’t even give it a thought. My selfish brain decided it wanted her, and that was that.

  “Hello?”

  “I’m looking for Lilly.”

  “Well, you’re looking in the right place. I’ll buzz you up.” Halfway through the sentence, I know I haven’t got anything to worry about. I’m pretty sure the guy on the other end is gay. What I don’t expect to see though, when the door to Lilly’s flat opens, is a giant of a guy. Whoever her roommate is, he’s seriously stacked.

  “Hey, I’m Lucas. I’m looking for Lilly. I’m taking her out for dinner tonight.” I expect him to say something back, but he just stares. “Uh…hello,” I prompt.

  “Shit, yeah, come in. She’s in the shower.”

  I expect him to go and get her or something, but he just calls out and then stands and stares. I’m not really sure what the hell’s going on or what I’m meant to do in this situation. Thankfully, only seconds later I hear footsteps heading our way, and then Lilly appears. Wearing only a towel, thank you God.

  I run my eyes down from her wet hair, over her slender neck and shoulders. I watch as the pulls the towel tighter around her before dropping my gaze to her long legs. Fuck, they’re incredible.

  The roommate is still staring at me while Lilly stands there looking very uncomfortable. I decide it’s time to break the silence.

  “Lilly, we’re going to dinner.”

  I sit myself down and ping out a few emails while I wait—no point wasting time. If I have my way, I’ll be way too distracted to do any work for the foreseeable future. I’d much prefer Lilly to keep my mind—and body—busy.

  The feel of her pressed up against me earlier pops back into my mind. How her body felt up against mine, how light she was. I could throw her around and get her exactly where I want her without much effort at all. The thought alone has me reaching down to rearrange myself.