"Call me Joel, please." He put his hand on Daisy's back, just above her tailbone. Sparks zipped around her body. "And this is Daisy Miller, my date."
"Ah, the very lucky lady." Maurice gave her a quick up and down and too late, Daisy sucked in her stomach.
He took her hand, kissed it in a gentile fashion.
Joel said, "I take issue. I think I'm the lucky one." He smiled down at her, she rolled her eyes, and the smile widened into a grin.
Maurice gestured to seats, and Daisy muttered out the corner of her mouth, "You should have actually been The Last Centurion. You're a good actor."
Joel looked offended. "No acting involved, my sweet."
My sweet?
Maurice eyed them both, then settled on Joel.
Daisy was getting used to that. Kelly at the TV studio, Nicole the publicist, Helena on the plane. And even though Rich at reception had said nice things about her, he probably earnt a bonus for every woman he made blush. Not to worry. She glanced discreetly at Joel, at his perfect profile. If she was in Maurice's position, sitting opposite them now, she'd stare at Joel, too.
Maurice cleared his throat to claim their attention. "I'd like to invite you both to join me tonight for dinner at the Grove restaurant and our invitation-only dining room. A certain inspector from a certain globally-esteemed restaurant guide once informed me our establishment was worthy of the highest rating offered. Unfortunately, there is no guide published for the South Pacific so that information can not be made official." His chest puffed out. "It would be a pleasure to have you sitting at my table."
"It sounds like the captain's table on The Love Boat," Daisy said.
Maurice looked taken aback. "I suppose one could say that." He blinked. "However, I am delighted to tell you that a certain top Hollywood couple has accepted my invitation to join the table for dinner, along with the prominent heir to a significant jewelry fortune. It would truly be my honor to have you join our party."
A movie couple? Daisy's mind went into overdrive. Who on earth was still together that it could be? Who'd got married?
"And I have another invitation for you both." Maurice directed his gaze to Joel again. "We're holding a morning tea in your honor tomorrow morning."
Joel blinked.
Maurice said, "The chef is already preparing a menu based on a romantic theme. Patisseries from our pastry chef who trained at the top patisserie institute in Paris."
Joel glanced uncomfortably across at Daisy. "It really is The Love Boat."
She grinned. So much for hanging around in a swimsuit if French pastries and a three star meal were on offer. "This really is going to be the best holiday ever," she sighed.
Ten minutes later they walked towards the lift and Joel said, "There's a real possibility I'll be unfit at the end of all this."
Her gaze skimmed his body. He was in such good shape it struck her he must work out religiously to maintain it. Especially in light of his teenage years.
"If you must, you could spend an hour in the gym," she sighed. "I was reading up on it in my suite. It has a gladiatorial theme and they call their trainers, Latinas."
"An interesting gimmick. Latinas were the trainers who prepped the gladiators for battle."
"Well, you can go if you like."
He glanced at her sideways. "You're giving me permission, huh?"
"I'd hate to leave the island with you looking the worse for wear after the Mystery Date morning tea." Without thinking, she reached out and lightly swatted his backside. He stared at her while her hand burnt where it had made contact with his trousers. Mere millimeters of fabric away from touching his actual buttocks.
"Go." Her throat clogged and she cleared it, waved her hand in the direction of the door. "I'll go for a walk and see if I can drum up business with any prospective visitors down under."
Fifteen minutes later Joel was in the male-only gym, adjusting the incline on the treadmill.
Back home he ran across footpaths, pounded along the waterfront, and ran over the Auckland domain. He liked the outdoors, relished the fresh air, the feel of the elements on his skin.
Here, though, he had no desire to be seen with guys parading their stuff.
Daisy might quip he had nothing to worry about but underneath it all, he was Big Ben and Big Ben had trained in the university gym away from the glare of human eyes. The only other people besides Rob or a trainer were guys like himself – working their arses off to either bulk up or bulk down.
But Daisy had his measure. He needed to exercise.
Fear ensured he never missed more than a couple of days in a row and it was nothing to do with vanity.
It was about survival.
He took a long gulp from his water bottle, increased his speed, and thought back to nearly ten years ago when 54-year-old Kevin John Benjamin had suffered a massive coronary that had taken his life in a split second and left his family devastated. Twelve months earlier Joel hadn't given his health a second thought. What man in his early twenties did? Especially one hell bent on proving himself in the academic world? His focus had been on getting into a doctoral program at an Ivy League university. Food had been expedient, even if it hadn't been healthy, even though his dentist father had told him to cut back on sweets because they'd wreck his teeth. It had been Rob who had gotten him fit, who had told him he'd do better at his work if he started exercising, started putting decent fuel into his body.
The nerd in him wanted that more than the approval of his female classmates.
Joel took the towel from the handlebars to wipe sweat from his brow. His father hadn't cared about his health and his early death had increased Joel's own awareness of his own mortality.
He concentrated on the run – each step, each breath, pounding and pushing and feeling the discomfort that working out his heart left him with, until it was over and he slowed the speed and the incline.
He'd learnt not to care that people gave him sideways glances in his teen years and talked about him behind his back. He hadn't been the only overweight kid at school yet he'd also been aware that if he got in to that 'world hates me' mentality he'd seen in some of his equally tubby schoolmates, he was only going to harm himself.
Harm his own chances.
He stepped off the treadmill and made his way over to the open space.
His body had cooled and now he dropped to do push ups and crunches, relishing the effort as he moved through his program.
As he rose to his feet, a few guys gave him curious looks and he acknowledged them. It was unlikely they were New Zealanders, and even if they were, the odds that they'd seen a TV dating show weren't great. Besides, the network polling had suggested 90% of viewers were female.
He uncapped his water bottle and checked the clock on the wall, hoped the dinner was everything Maurice had cracked it up to be, and wondered, as he gulped down the refreshing water, what Daisy Miller was doing right now.
Daisy was getting ready for dinner and was not happy.
She had not brought a single thing that was remotely elegant to wear because she'd envisaged she'd be spending her time with a sarong draped around her waist, under the water so no one gave two hoots what she was wearing, or walking around in shorts and T-shirts.
She had half an hour before Joel came by to escort her down to dinner and her wardrobe was pathetic.
She could have kicked herself.
It wasn't as if she'd had to worry about going over the 20kg luggage limit for goodness sake. The network was paying for it. She could have brought an extra suitcase just for the heck of it.
She stared at the three most promising outfits of her non-walking, non-sun bathing and non-swimming attire. She should phone Michelle and ask her advice. She was dying to phone Michelle and see how business had gone in the past day but Michelle had told that if she did ring, she'd hang up, that Daisy was to enjoy the holiday and to forget all about the store.
It was hard to do - but she was trying.
She stared at the
outfits again and finally chose a skirt that went to her knees, a T-shirt and a denim jacket. Bar the T-shirt, it was the outfit she'd worn on the plane. From what Rich Wallace had let slip when she'd come back from her walk earlier, the 'Hollywoods' as he called them, tended to go out big time when they were invited to join the manager for dinner.
"It's all about the women," he'd told her, almost rubbing his hands together in glee at the thought of women critiquing each other's outfits. "They compete with each other and don't give a damn what their men think."
Daisy had felt a moment's depression – not at what he'd said but at the fact that he had felt comfortable telling it to her. Clearly he didn't see her as the competitive type.
She dressed in the outfit, fiddled with her hair which dryed in five minues, and put on makeup – thank goodness Michelle had insisted she come prepared in that department, although she could have gone out and bought new stuff anyway.
If she'd been on to it, she could have bought a new outfit at one of the shops.
Too late now.
Joel called by a few minutes later and she opened the door and took a second just to admire him. Naturally, he looked good. Dressed in classy black trousers and pale shirt, a jacket held casually as if he were posing for a fashion shoot.
She'd known he'd be dressed up but still, she felt deflated at how casual she was going to look. If only she'd brought that darned Mystery Date dress that had maxed out her Visa.
She commented redundantly, "So you dressed up?"
"These old things?" His gaze slid over her outfit. "It is dinner at the captain's - I mean, the manager's - table."
"Sadly, I've come with casual wear only. I honestly never thought we'd be bestowed such an honor."
"And you look great," he said not missing a beat. "Turn around."
She turned and he said, "In fact, you look gorgeous, Daisy."
She narrowed her eyes doubtfully.
"Trust me," he said.
Oddly, she did trust him even though she'd bet her collection of quilting books the attention would be on him, not her, and he was welcome to it.
He checked his watch and held out his arm. "Our dinner awaits."
She slid her arm through his and noticed just how shabby her denim looked next to the cut of his shirt. She should have realized that with the money Golden Grove were putting into this thing it was likely they'd be asked to attend a function and that it would require a decent dress. Yet Joel looked very well prepared.
"Did you bring this outfit with you?" she asked curiously.
He shook his head. "Bought it an hour ago. Like you, I never figured I'd need to dress up." He glanced sideways at her. "I apologize for not suggesting shopping but I assumed you'd be set. I thought women always brought far too many clothes on holiday."
"Clearly, I'm not the average female holidaymaker."
"I've never considered there to be anything average about you," he murmured and with her shoulders back and her arm tingling where it lay on his, they headed towards the elevator.
Chapter Eight
The manager's table was set apart from the main dining area although anyone walking by could discreetly have a peek.
As the waiter showed them to their seats, Daisy noticed the heads of the seated guests turn. Maurice rose in greeting, and Daisy scanned the room to see that everyone was extremely well dressed. Not even some boozy, unkempt rock star lounging back in a T-shirt and ripped jeans showing off his tattoos of Satan. She didn't recognize anybody. The men looked at her face and chest, the women looked at everything from toe to head. Rich Wallace had been correct.
Daisy couldn't wait to be seated.
Maurice introduced them. "Dr Joel Benjamin and Miss Daisy Miller. Dr Benjamin is an ancient history professor who advised on the upcoming blockbuster The Last Centurion." Daisy felt Joel wince. "And Miss Miller," Maurice went on with so much enthusiasm she wondered if he'd already got started in on the chardonnay, "is a bookstore proprietor from Ponsonby, Auckland."
The guests smiled politely, the wait staff pulled out chairs, and Daisy sat with Joel as Maurice continued the introductions. As a waiter poured their wine, Daisy commented to Joel, "I noticed you still haven't got used to being outed as an advisor on The Last Centurion."
He leant closer to her. "It wasn't about the movie. It was the fact that I'm not officially a professor."
She frowned. "I thought anyone who taught at university was a professor?"
He shook his head. "Not in New Zealand. A chair is awarded or applied for." He swirled his wine, raised it to his nose. Tasted it. "And those positions are limited."
There was something about the way he said it that made her look closely at him. "Are you thinking of applying for a– " She floundered for the right word and came up blank. "A professorship?"
He pressed his lips together, took another sip, was about to answer when she noticed him stare across the room.
Everyone else was suddenly doing the same thing and Daisy turned to look.
A couple had entered the room.
Daisy's breath caught in her throat as she stared, unable to look away.
Good heavens, it was... They were...
"Maurice," the actress said as she moved towards the manager, now standing with his hands out in welcome. Daisy swallowed down hard. The hottest actress on the planet was here. At Golden Grove. With her equally deliciously hot actor husband. Both shorter in real life, she noted, as the actress swept towards Maurice in a long, silky gown worthy of an appearance at the Academy Awards. Maurice bent at the waist before he took her hands in his and kissed them.
"Thank you so much for inviting us to join your table." She smiled and Daisy was captivated by her incredibly slender body and her equally divine face. Had she had work? Surely she had. Daisy narrowed her eyes to try and see better but she couldn't tell.
Must have.
Then she realized every other woman at the table was squinting as well. Daisy opened her eyes properly.
Maurice introduced them but Daisy barely acknowledged his words as she watched the partner. Good heavens, he was gorgeous. More gorgeous in real life. Were they married? She couldn't remember. They had children, she knew that.
He looked around, gave Daisy a quick grin and Daisy felt her insides seize up.
"You alright?" Joel asked.
Daisy couldn't take her eyes off the couple as they were shown to their seats.
The way they moved, the way they sank down onto their chairs, the way she smiled up at the waiter who had seated them – it was all so elegant. Had they learnt that at acting school? Or was she, were they, just genuinely nice, well-mannered people? She sat in the seat, her back straight and Daisy wondered, was she acting now? She was on show – she knew everyone seated at the table was watching her.
She was also avoiding eye contact as she bent to her husband, glanced down at the table, smiled, looked at him, murmured something. Was it a real conversation or was it a fake one – like the news anchors talking to one another when the news was over.
"I take it, that's a yes?" Joel commented.
"What?" Daisy dragged her gaze away from them.
"That you're okay." With his glass in his hand he gestured towards the couple. "You and every woman here are completely besotted with the pair of them."
Daisy took a sip of her wine. "And it's a perfectly normal reaction. They're the biggest couple in moviedom and at times like this, I have fan girl moments. Did you see her in... Ummm..." Daisy was having a terrible time remembering just what she had seen her in but she knew she'd been impressed.
"I doubt I did," Joel remarked. "Was she good?"
"Pretty much. She's thinner in real life though and she wore skin hugging outfits in that film."
At the head of the table, Maurice rose gracefully to his feet and tapped a glass with a spoon to claim their attention.
"I am delighted to welcome you all here tonight and to welcome our special guests." He glanced at the movie couple who smil
ed in appreciation. Then he smiled at Daisy and Joel, and Daisy stared in shock, sure she'd misunderstood, then she smiled.
Maurice toasted, "To our good health. To our fellowship here tonight. To doing me the honor of joining me at my table. Enjoy everyone. We have a set menu and I believe we've been alerted to any food preferences. If not, please, don't hesitate to talk to my wait staff who are here to help."
Daisy took another sip of wine and sighed as it slid smoothly and deliciously down. Clearly expensive wine was easier on the throat than the cheap booze she and Michelle partook of. She shot a discreet glance at the couple. He was talking to the woman to his left; she was talking to the man on her right. Were they acting now? And how did you know, if you were in a relationship, whether they were being honest?
"You are very deep in thought," Joel commented casually.
Daisy dragged her gaze away from the Hollywoods. "Just wondering how you can trust anyone if they're an actor."
"You can't," he said dryly.
"That's a sweeping statement."
"It's from personal experience."
"Of course. You dated an actress on the movie. I remember Kate telling me about it."
His mouth twitched. "Dating implies there was a relationship. We went out a few times. I doubt that could be labelled a relationship."
She held her breath, waited for him to elaborate, to tell her his heart had been soundly smashed.
He didn't.
He took a sip of wine.
She prodded, "Was she as good an actor in her personal life as in the movies?"
He swirled his wine. "I guess that would depend on how well you think she can act in the movies."
"Did she break your heart?"
His mouth curled, and he said, "No. It was more like my self esteem. She had the hots for the lead actor and she just used me to make him jealous. I gather it worked."
"Excuse me," the man next to Daisy said, and she turned to him, remembered to sit taller, noticed his suit looked exquisitely tailored, and she smiled. "Hello."
Second Chances Boxed Set: 7 Sweet & Sexy Romances in 1 Book Page 73