Listen to Your Heart

by Mona Ingram

  Morgan motioned to Adrian.

  “Wait here,” he said to the child. “I’ll be right back.”

  “I was about to take a short break,” she said quickly. “I could take him with me and get him some ice cream or something. We could call the nanny and see if it’s okay.”

  He hesitated, but only for a moment. “Okay.” He picked up the phone. “I’ll do it.”

  * * *

  “Really? I can have ice cream?” Brandon was wide-eyed as Morgan settled him at the staff table in the restaurant.

  “Just a small dish.” She couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm. “We don’t want to ruin your dinner.”

  Morgan ordered coffee for herself and a small sundae for the child. He chattered away as he dug in. She was looking outside, wondering if she’d spot Rob, when his words registered.

  “What was that you said?” she asked. “About the towels?”

  He looked guilty. “I went exploring. There’s a really cool room where they keep the towels and sheets and stuff. It smells all nice in there and it’s cosy.”

  She smiled. “You really shouldn’t be going in there, Brandon. What if you got locked in or something?”

  He gave her what could only be described as a sly look. “I’m careful.” He finished his sundae, and then sat back, looking pleased with himself. Something caught his eye outside and he jumped up and ran between the tables to the window. “Mommy!” he cried, waving frantically. “Mommy!”

  His mother turned, saw him in the window, and her expression turned thunderous. “Brandon!” Morgan could see her mouth the words. “What are you doing there?”

  He ran back to the table as she flung open the door to the restaurant. “What are you doing with my child?” She grabbed his hand and led him toward the hallway. “Wait until the manager hears about this!”

  Morgan pressed her fingers to her temple; she was getting a headache. Might as well go and face the music.

  The doors of the elevator had scarcely closed on Mrs. Glasser and Brandon before the manager turned on her. “Whatever gave you the idea you could take that young boy to the restaurant?” He was almost shouting.

  “I’m sorry, Sir. It’s just that...”

  “Excuse me, Mr. Wynn-Jones, but I’m to blame as well.” Adrian had been standing aside, but he came forward now. “I called the nanny and she said he was allowed to go and that he had no allergies.”

  “I can take care of this.” Morgan refused to let Adrian take the blame. “It was my idea.” She frowned at him, trying to signal him to back off.

  “Stop it.” The manager looked from one to the other. “The fact remains that Mrs. Glasser is extremely upset.” He turned to Morgan. “This will go on your personnel record.”

  “But, Sir...” Adrian stepped forward again and Morgan glared at him.

  “I don’t want to hear about it!” The manager turned abruptly. “Back to work, the both of you.”

  Morgan bristled, but knew better than to talk back. “Yes, Sir. I’m sorry.” The front door slid open and the lobby was suddenly alive with a group of new arrivals.

  Adrian turned and greeted them, his smile warm and welcoming. She watched him for a moment. He may seem uncertain in social situations, but when it came to handling guests, he was quietly confident. He looked as though he’d been dealing with guests all his life, and she supposed that he had, in some capacity or another. For the next couple of hours she forgot the incident with Brandon as she and Adrian handled the rush of afternoon check-ins.

  Chapter Nine

  “Hey, we made a pretty good team this afternoon.” Adrian was scrolling through the day’s check-ins. “Only two more parties to arrive tonight.”

  “I don’t know where the time went.” She smiled at him. He was right, they had made a good team; people seemed to respond to him.

  “Would you like to go for a drink after work?” He removed his glasses and put them in his pocket. “I could use one.”

  She shot him a curious look. “Is this a date?”

  He looked down at her. “Would you like it to be?”

  Was he flirting with her? “Not tonight, no.”

  “You mean no drink or no date?” His eyes sparkled with amusement.

  “I mean no date, but I would like a drink. Do you know somewhere we can go?”

  He led her down a narrow passageway between two buildings and into a busy bar. He managed to snag a table near the fireplace and they sank down into low armchairs.

  “What did Dale say when you called her?”

  “Chance is taking her over to the Chateau for a drink. She was looking forward to it.”

  “I don’t know him all that well, but he seems like a nice guy. They’ve sure hit it off quickly.”

  She raised her eyebrows.

  “What?” he said. “You seem unsure.”

  Grateful for a chance to gather her thoughts, she sat back as their wine was delivered, then took a small sip before answering. “Dale hasn’t had a lot of success with relationships, but I have a good feeling about her and Chance. As you said, he’s a nice guy.”

  When she said no more, he nodded thoughtfully. “I guess the reason is something personal.”

  She smiled at him. “You’re very sensitive, you know that?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know.” The light from the fireplace cast his face into shadows, but the small scar high up on his cheek stood out starkly. “I should apologize for butting in this afternoon, but it seemed only fair to tell Colin that I’d called and spoken with the nanny.”

  “Colin?” She raised an eyebrow. “You mean Mr. Wynn-Jones.”

  He rubbed his face with both hands. “I have something to tell you, Morgan.” He shot her a quick look. “I tried to tell you before, but we always seem to get interrupted.”

  He didn’t continue, and she prodded him. “What?”

  “Promise you won’t hate me.”

  “For crying out loud, Adrian. Will you just tell me and get it over with?”

  He stared into his wine glass. “My full name is Adrian Zimmerman.”

  “Sounds like the name of the hotel chain.” She sat up and her back stiffened as the name sank in. “Are you...” For a moment she couldn’t speak. “Are you related to the owners?”

  He looked at her levelly. “The owner is my father.”

  “Your father.” She picked up her wine glass, then put it down without drinking. “That explains a lot. Why haven’t you told anyone?”

  He leaned forward. “My dad didn’t want me to. I told him we should be up front about it...that people would figure it out eventually. Somebody’s going to show up at the hotel who knows me. Peter Glasser, for example. He’s a friend of our family.”

  She was only half listening to him. “But you’re from Switzerland. I thought the hotel chain was headquartered in Italy.”

  He nodded. “The first hotel was in the Italian Alps. That was my grandfather. But we live in Davos, like I told you, and my father wanted the main office there.” He waited for the information to sink in. “I’m sorry, Morgan. I hope we can remain friends.”

  She looked up sharply. “Is that what we are? Friends?” She gave a short, mirthless laugh and looked at him. “You took my dream job, you lied to me, and you expect us to be friends?”

  “I didn’t lie to you. I just didn’t tell you...” He looked miserable and his voice trailed off.

  She sat back and studied him. The truth was that from the first night she’d found him charming and attractive. More importantly, she’d lived in a family of men long enough to recognize that he was a gentle soul. Gentle and kind. Too bad he was the owner’s son. That would put their friendship in an entirely different light.

  “I tried to be mad at you,” she said, almost to herself. “But it’s not easy.”

  His head came up. “You mean you don’t hate me?”

  “I didn’t say that.” His face fell and she touched his arm. “Just kidding, Adrian. Don’t be so hard on yours
elf. Of course I don’t hate you.”

  “Good.” He leaned toward her and for a moment she thought she saw desire in his eyes. “Could we keep things as they are?”

  “You mean don’t tell anyone who you are?” A sudden thought struck her. “Does Wynn-Jones know?”

  “Yes. I think that’s why he came down hard on you this afternoon...because he didn’t want to say anything to me, even though I deserved it. But I’d sure like to keep the status quo for a while.” He raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. “If someone shows up who knows me, we’ll just play it by ear.”

  “Okay, but I’ll have to tell Dale. We share everything.” She nodded to herself. “She’s the sister I never had.”

  Something shifted behind his eyes. “Do you have any siblings?”

  She edged forward on her seat. “Three brothers. Ken is the eldest and Grant and Gareth – the twins – are closer to me in age. A couple of clowns, let me tell you.” Her face softened. “You know, I think they scared off just about every boy who came to the house when I was in high school. It’s no wonder I’m still single.”

  “Can I ask you something?”

  “I can’t promise I’ll answer, but sure, go ahead.”

  He set down his glass. “Are you and Rob an item?”

  Dammit, why did the mere mention of his name make her heart race?

  “Rob?” She pretended not to understand.

  “I guess that means yes.”

  “No it doesn’t.” She hated talking about this. Especially when she wasn’t quite sure how she felt about him.

  “I’ve seen the way he looks at you.” He hesitated. “And I heard him say something about you being up top together.”

  “Are you jealous, Adrian Zimmerman?” She emphasized his last name.

  She was instantly sorry that she’d goaded him. But he leveled a look at her, and she was impressed by the way he held his own.

  “We weren’t together.” She took a quick sip of wine. “Not in that way, anyway. I went up there on my first day to look around and he was there to meet someone for a lesson.”

  “Okay.” A faint smile touched his lips. “I just want to know where I stand, that’s all.”

  “What about you?” She tilted her head, challenging him. “Do you have someone at home?”

  He hesitated for a moment before answering. “Not really.”

  She deliberated about letting him off the hook, but to her surprise she found that she wanted to know. “That’s not much of an answer.”

  He toyed with his wine glass and she regretted pushing him; he looked miserable. “It’s complicated,” he said finally, then drained his wine. “Shall we go and find something to eat? Just a hamburger, then I’ll drive us both home.”

  “Sure, I’d enjoy that.” She took the hand he offered and got to her feet. He looked into her eyes for a moment, and then released her hand. She was tempted to slip her hand back into his. It had felt safe there.

  The mountain rose above them as they walked back to the hotel. Illuminated for night skiing, it seemed to come alive.

  “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Morgan paused to look up.

  “Ya.”

  She was beginning to know him well enough to be aware that when his accent thickened, something was bothering him. He wasn’t looking up. She decided not to press him; they’d shared enough revelations tonight.

  “I understand there are some great trails for cross-country night skiing.” She nudged him playfully. “Would you like to try it sometime?”

  He smiled, but it looked forced. “I didn’t think you brought your skis.”

  She shrugged. “I didn’t. But I can get kitted out. Did you bring your gear?”

  He nodded. “Yes.” He raised his head slowly and there was no mistaking the pain in his eyes. “I did it to please my father.”

  “I don’t get it.” She really didn’t. “Why should he care?”

  His gaze roamed slowly over the mountain and paused at the gondola. “I stopped skiing a couple of years ago.” His eyes glittered behind his glasses. “I tried again just before I came over here. It was too soon, but I could see how much it pleased my father, so I made a big show out of bringing my skis.” He guided her toward the ramp leading down to the basement. “One of these days I’ll try again.” He smiled at her and this time it was a real smile. “When that day comes, I hope you’ll go with me.”

  She could see how much the conversation had cost him. “I’d be honoured,” she said quietly.

  He led her to a Range Rover that was parked in a Reserved spot.

  “I’m impressed,” she said, climbing in. “These parking spots are like gold.”

  “There has to be some advantage to being the owner’s son,” he said, tucking her coat in beside her. He stopped, one hand on the open door. “Thanks for coming out with me tonight, Morgan. I enjoyed it.”

  “Me, too.” And she had. Maybe too much.

  Chapter Ten

  “You didn’t bring your gloves?” Chance took Dale’s hands in his and tried to look stern. He rubbed them gently and blew on them, brushing his lips against her fingertips. “What am I going to do with you?”

  They were standing in the soft glow of a streetlight.

  “Nothing.” She yanked her hands away from him and shoved them into her pockets. Tears sprang to her eyes. “And stop being nice to me.” She strode toward the parking lot.

  He stared after her for a moment, and then caught up. She glanced at him, anger flashing from her eyes, and kept walking.

  Snow had been falling while they were inside and she stood at the edge of the parking lot, looking confused. Everything was covered with a couple of inches of snow.

  Snow melted in her hair as she surveyed the rows of vehicles. “Where are we?” she said after a moment.

  The despair in her voice almost broke his heart. He reached out and pulled her into his arms. “We’re right here,” he said gently, tilting her head. “I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

  She looked into his eyes as he lowered his head. He nipped gently at her bottom lip, running his tongue along it, waiting to be invited inside.

  He sensed the moment she gave in. She closed her eyes and her body softened against him. A small whimper escaped from somewhere deep inside and her arms went around his neck.

  “Don’t do this to me,” she murmured, and yet she didn’t push him away. He deepened the kiss, senses swirling. Nothing about this woman made sense. He’d known her for less than a week and yet he knew without a doubt that he was deeply, irrevocably in love with her. Love like that didn’t just sneak up on a guy...did it? He pulled her even closer and kissed her eyes before making his way back to her mouth.

  She welcomed him as he slid his tongue into her mouth, probing gently, trying not to frighten her off again. He pulled back and looked at her. “Dale?” he said tentatively.

  She shuddered and his protective instincts kicked in. “Are you cold?” he asked, looking around the parking lot. He’d made a note of the row he parked in.

  “No,” she said with a smile. “But I suppose we should get to the car instead of standing here making out like a couple of teenagers.”

  “I don’t know.” He took her hand and grinned down at her. “I was kind of enjoying it, myself.”

  He led her to his SUV, settled her inside, started the motor, and then walked around the vehicle, brushing the snow from the windows. Through the windshield, her eyes looked haunted, and he wondered how to proceed; how to address what had just happened. One thing he knew for sure; if they were going to talk, he didn’t want to be sitting in a vehicle, where he couldn’t see her properly.

  “Let’s go get something to eat,” he said as he pulled slowly out of the parking lot.

  “I’m not hungry,” she said. She stared out the passenger window. “But okay.”

  “Pizza all right?” he said. “There’s a quiet little place near the Lodge. They do mostly takeout, but they have a few boot
hs.”

  She shrugged and he smiled to himself.

  * * *

  “Yes please.” Dale looked up as the server approached with a carafe of coffee. She upended the cup that was on the table and sat silently as the steaming liquid was poured.

  Chance pretended to study the menu. “What kind of pizza do you like?”

  “Anything,” she said. “No, wait. I like meat and no anchovies.”

  “Then we’ll have that.” He handed the menu back to the server.

  She cradled the mug, warming her hands. “You shouldn’t have kissed me.” She raised her eyes and he saw longing there. It was all he could do not to crawl over the table and kiss her again.

  “Why?” he toyed with his mug, but didn’t drink.

  “Because I liked it.”

  “Well, that’s a relief. I thought maybe I’d lost my touch.”

  Her expression softened. “Hardly.” Her gaze lingered on his lips, then she looked away. “I’m no good at this, Chance. I’m no good at relationships.”

  He ached for her. “We’re doing fine so far, aren’t we?” He reached across the table and stroked the back of her hand with one finger. “Aren’t we?”

  She withdrew her hand.

  Anger boiled in his gut. Anger at whoever had hurt her. But he managed to control himself. “Have I done something wrong?” He sat back and spoke as calmly as he could. “I’m not going anywhere, Dale, so you might as well get used to it.”

  A tear rolled down her cheek and she brushed it away absent-mindedly. She seemed to be studying the pictures of Tuscany of the wall, but he knew she wasn’t actually seeing them. He waited for her to gather her thoughts.

  “It was when you warmed my hands,” she said, her voice little more than a whisper. “You caught me by surprise.” She raised her eyes. “My mother used to do that.”

  He held her gaze.

  The pizza was delivered. Chance thanked the server, but it sat between them, untouched.

  When she spoke, her voice seemed to come from far away. “My mother was a crack addict,” she said finally. “I didn’t realize that until I was in my teens. Until I started living at the Dempsey’s.” She ran her finger around the rim of her coffee mug. “When I was small, she’d get straight for a while and come home. In those days, crack was fairly new and I guess the authorities didn’t understand the depth of her addiction, because every time I asked to go back with her, they’d let me.” A faint smile crossed her lips. “She’d make a big fuss over me and tell me how much she loved me. Things would be great for a month or two, and then she’d disappear. I’d wait and wait for her to come back, even though deep down inside I knew that wasn’t going to happen.” She paused. “Children are far more intuitive than adults realize. Anyway, I’d try to cover up when the neighbours inquired, but eventually they’d call Child Protective Services.” She looked up at him. “I don’t know how many times this happened but it was always the same. She’d apologize and hug me and tell me I was the most important person in her life. You’d think I would have learned not to trust her, but I loved her in spite of it. Soon it got so I didn’t trust anyone who told me they cared. If the one person who was supposed to love me would do that, why should I trust anyone else?”