With No Reservations

by Joan Bramsch

  Funny, he thought. He could have sworn he'd drunk about a gallon of water last night. Shrugging, he turned on the shower, then stepped beneath the hard spray and scrubbed off two days worth of grime. As he dried himself, he idly surveyed his reflection in the hazy mirror. His sandy hair was sun-streaked and thick. One woman had told him his wide-set eyes were bluer than a rain-washed Utah sky. His face and neck were perpetually tanned, and his muscular body revealed his love of outdoor activities in any weather, any season.

  When he pulled a clean knit shirt from his knapsack, he winced as the fabric irritated a cut on his hand. “Damn,” he muttered, sucking on his knuckle. He wished he'd worn heavier gloves. The rocks had cut his hands badly. He tugged on the shirt and a fresh pair of jeans, then called his Mountainview office.

  "Hi, Kim,” he said when his assistant answered the phone. “Anything going on?"

  "There's always something going on, boss. You know that."

  "Can you handle it?"

  "Sure."

  "Then I won't worry about it,” he replied. “I'll be setting the trap for my mom's informer in the next few days. I'll give each of the targets identical details about a phony upcoming national convention. The only difference is that I71 give each of them a different company name. When the bids arrive—I'll use the office address-the one we receive from Mom's competitor will be linked to the guilty party."

  "Neat idea, boss,” said Kim. “Ingenious."

  "Yeah, well, what can I say,” he answered, chuckling happily. “Will you ask Les to pack enough clothes for me for two weeks and send them ASAP? It looks like I'm going to be here for a while."

  "Your bags are already packed, Jeff. Well air-freight them to you.'-'

  "What a team!"

  "We aim to please."

  "Thanks, Kim. I'll keep in touch."

  After Jeffrey had hung up, his stomach gave a mighty growl. He massaged his middle, wondering when he'd last eaten. Yesterday. Afternoon? No wonder he was hungry. He needed food-fast. He slipped his room key and wallet into separate pockets and strode to the door. When he opened it he noticed the Do Not Disturb sign on the outside. He couldn't remember placing it there. “Man, I must have been walking in my sleep last night,” he mumbled.

  Later that evening, when Jeffrey strolled into the lobby, Mr. Gillian caught his attention. “Good evening, Mr. Madison. Your suite is ready for occupancy, sir. Suite 1108."

  Not bad, Jeffrey thought as he exchanged keys with the man. Then he remembered the trainee. “Oh, by the way, I hope you didn't discipline Ms. Waverly.” He glanced around. “I haven't seen her today."

  "Miss Waverly is still with us.” Mr. Gillian's tone revealed he was less than pleased.

  "Very good, Mr. Gillian.” The look in Jeffrey's eyes let the man know there would have been hell to pay if she'd been fired. “I'd like a wake-up call for seven."

  By nine o'clock Wednesday morning Jeffrey had swum fifty laps in the hotel pool, showered, shaved, dressed, and consumed a large breakfast. He was determined not to waste another day. He wasn't used to inactivity. In fact, he hated it.

  He belonged in the mountains, he thought as he left the hotel restaurant, heading for the elevators. All thoughts of the great outdoors fled, though, when he spotted Ann Waverly seated behind an ornate desk in the lobby. The small gold-lettered sign on the mahogany surface said: CONCIERGE. She was talking animatedly to a woman, obviously doing her best to please a guest. Jeffrey slipped behind a potted palm to watch her unobserved.

  Damn, he thought, she had on those huge goggles again. How was a man supposed to see what she was thinking? Her hair was pulled back into the same smooth, businesslike bun, and she was wearing the unappealing uniform she'd worn two nights ago. She did, however, fill out that uniform very well, as far as he could see.

  But it was her smile that really attracted his gaze. It wasn't a phony smile. On the contrary, it was genuine, expressing her pleasure in her work. He wondered, could a man measure the goodness of a woman by her smile? It was worth investigating, he decided. When the guest got up to leave, he strolled from his hiding place.

  Ann noticed the tall man walking toward her. He looked familiar, but she couldn't quite place him. Suddenly she recognized him. It was Jeffrey Madison, clean-shaven and wearing a sport jacket over a cotton shirt and dress trousers. My, he was handsome, she thought, smiling shyly. She was glad to see him, but was embarrassed over their last two meetings-one of which he didn't even know about! -and wished he hadn't seen her.

  "Hi, Ms. Waverly,” he greeted her. “Coming up in the world?"

  "You might say that."

  Her lips curved into an impish grin as she realized she would have recognized Jeffrey in a second had she been able to get a peek at his left heel. Her grin didn't quite register with him. He obviously had his mind on something else, for his blond brows drew together in a thoughtful scowl.

  "Won't that manager take you back?” he asked. “I'll speak to him at once."

  "That really isn't necessary, Mr. Madison."

  "Certainly it is.” He looked over at the registration desk, hoping to see Mr. Gillian.

  "But ... but..."

  Jeffrey swung his gaze back to Ann, trying to see past the reflection in her glasses. Was she afraid to make trouble? he wondered. Then another thought came to mind.

  "Are you covering for someone?” he asked, grinning. “Without permission?"

  Sighing, she straightened a stack of tourist brochures, then removed her glasses. She looked up, her dark-lashed eyes boldly meeting his inquisitive gaze. “I might as well tell you. You aren't going to stop till I do. I'm in a new-concept training program, doing a different job every day."

  "For what reason?” he asked absently as he stared into her eyes. Ann Waverly, he thought, had the most beautiful, expressive eyes he'd ever seen. Their indigo-blue color was unusual, and a definite threat to his nervous system. Suddenly he felt the need to sit down, and did so instantly.

  "It's designed to see if I'm worthy of the Regency,” she said in answer to his question.

  Jeffrey thought her explanation exemplary. He wished all his mother's employees shared Ann's attitude. “What will you do the rest of this week?” he asked.

  "Tomorrow I work in the kitchen, and on Friday I'm in the luggage storeroom."

  He snorted with disgust. “Luggage? That's no work for a woman."

  Ann glared directly into his clear blue eyes. “I will be working one of the jobs, Mr. Madison. I'd like to point out to you that women work everywhere in this hotel. We're an equal opportunity establishment."

  "Yeah, any one of you can get a hernia,” he said, silently vowing to discuss this edict with his mother.

  "Mr. Madison,” Ann sputtered, her eyes blazing, “you are a dyed-in-the-wool chauvinist bully."

  Jeffrey's scowl disappeared instantly. Grinning again, he reached for her hand and smoothed his roughened thumb over her knuckles. “Uh-uh,” he said, shaking his head. “I just don't want you to hurt your hands, Ann. Yours are made for gentler work. For pleasure.” His voice was a whisper as he lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her fingertips.

  His gallant gesture prompted a sigh to slip from Ann's lips, and she simply could not force herself to withdraw from his touch.

  "Aren't you about ready to take a break?” he murmured, continuing to hold her hand. His smoky gaze captured hers. “Let's have a cup of coffee."

  "I'm very sorry, sir.” And she was. “Employees aren't allowed to fraternize with the guests.” She smiled to soften her refusal and retrieved her hand.

  Jeffrey was so smitten with her enchanting smile, he almost admitted he wasn't a paying guest. Catching himself just in time, he tried to cajole her into accepting his invitation anyway.

  "What harm can come from a cup of coffee and a little innocent conversation? Come on, just one cup?"

  Ann had to steel herself against his gentle persuasion. His firm lips curved into a whimsical smile, and his blue eyes were warm.
“It's a house rule. Mr. Madison. And a good one, I believe."

  Ann's reckless spirit and more sensible self warred within her. She was able to admit she'd like to get to know Jeffrey Madison better. But she also knew her interest in this man could get her into a whole lot of trouble.

  Jeffrey was watching her eyes, sensing her indecision, and he believed he could change her mind. The challenge was very nearly overwhelming. “Ann, won't you reconsider?” he asked in his most seductive voice as he gently stroked her hand again.

  Smiling a bittersweet smile, she slipped her hand away from his, realizing how close she was to accepting his invitation. “Thank you, Mr. Madison, but I really can't accept. I hope you'll understand."

  Jeffrey was surprised by his tenacity. He told himself he was being so persistent because he might obtain some useful information about the convention tipster from her, but deep down he knew that was a flimsy excuse. He was simply incredibly attracted to Ann Waverly, elusive woman that she was.

  Ann studied Jeffrey, hoping he would stay, yet conversely wishing he'd disappear. He was too tempting. She could still feel the warmth of his kiss on her fingertips. This was not the time to become involved with a dangerously handsome man. Furthermore, he was a guest of the hotel:. Period! End of discussion. She needed every bit of her energy to meet the challenge she'd accepted from her boss.

  "So you're concierge for the day?” he asked.

  She nodded.

  His tanned features relaxed; his grin warmed her fluttering heart. “I come from a little town in Utah. Mountainview."

  "I know."

  "You do?” He was startled, then he chuckled. “Ah, yes, the registration card. Handy things to have around."

  "I guess."

  "I'm delighted that you were interested enough to look."

  She lowered her gaze and her cheeks glowed with color. “I think the word to describe my feelings would be ‘curious.’”

  "Or ‘terrified'?” he suggested, tipping her chin up with his finger and smiling. “I know I bellowed like a wounded moose the other night."

  "Well, not terrified,” she said. “More like alarmed.” She laughed softly. “You looked like you'd been stranded on one of your mountains for months."

  "Only two days,” he said. “But they were long ones. I led a volunteer wilderness rescue team at Mountainview. When you and I first met. I'd just returned from a two-day search for a little boy."

  "Did you find him?” she asked, almost afraid to know the answer. Jeffrey had looked so exhausted that night. He may not have been successful.

  "We found him, safe and sound,” he said. “But we were lucky. He knew enough to find shelter and stay put."

  "I'm so glad to hear it. And it explains why you looked the way you did that night.” Her eyes sparkled with sudden tears of relief. “I think only a very special person would risk his life in order to save another's."

  Jeffrey was uncomfortable with her sincere praise. Her glistening gaze, her warm smile, were genuine expressions of her feelings. Of that he was sure. “That's nice of you to say, Ann, but it was a team effort.” He shook his head and chuckled. “You should have seen that little guy leap into his dad's arms and try to hug his mom at the same time with the little strength he had left.” He gazed into Ann's eyes. “I thought he'd never let go of them. Or they let go of him."

  "I don't suppose a search always ends so happily."

  The grin slid from his lips. “No, and those are the times I die a little myself. It's hard. Real hard."

  Ann tentatively reached out a hand and covered his clenched fist. “I'm sorry I brought it up, Mr. Madison. Forgive me?"

  The smile returned to his eyes first, then his mouth curved into a mischievous grin. “Only if you call me by my first name."

  "I couldn't. The house rules."

  "Sure you can. Look at me and watch my lips."

  Oh, that was very easy to do, she decided, lifting her gaze.

  "Now, repeat after me. Jeffrey.” He cocked his head and waited.

  "Jeffrey,” she murmured.

  "Ah, Ann, that sounded wonderful. Say it again."

  "Jeffrey,” she repeated, then realized what she was doing. This would never do. “I have a question, Jeffrey,” she said, trying to change the subject to more neutral ground. “What was the big hurry to get here? You should have rested first."

  "I had an important meeting scheduled,” he answered, careful to be vague. “Anyway, I don't often get to the big city. Let's see you do your stuff."

  For the next half hour Ann gave him chapter and verse about the sights, sounds, and educational tours in the St. Charles area. Jeffrey listened patiently, asking questions, making choices.

  "Excellent work, Ms. Waverly,” he said finally. “I'll be sure to tell management how helpful you've been."

  "I'm only doing my job, sir,” she replied, but couldn't keep from smiling at his compliment.

  "Will you make reservations for the two tours I've indicated?” he asked. “I'd like to have confirmation now."

  It took her another fifteen minutes to make the calls. When she was through, she sighed with relief and smiled at Jeffrey. “Everything is confirmed, Mr. Madison. I hope you enjoy your tours."

  Jeffrey tipped his head to one side, rubbing the back of his neck as if he were ill at ease. “Ah ... would you mind making those reservations for two? I'd like to invite a lady."

  Ann wasn't quite able to mask her features when she gritted her teeth, but after one unguarded moment she smiled again. “Certainly, sir. Your guest's name?"

  "Ann Waverly."

  She moaned, frustrated. “But I've told you, I can't go out with you."

  "You'd be my tour guide."

  "I would not!” she shot back, and was incredulous when he grinned engagingly. That grin tunneled straight into her heart.

  "Others would think so,” he said.

  "Perhaps, but I'd know different."

  "So would I,” he said softly, stroking her hand slowly. It was a vivid reminder of the touch of his warm lips. He glanced down when he felt a trembling beneath his fingers. “I'd like to kiss you, Ann,” he murmured. “Come away with me, away from this hotel and your job. Travel with me to the land where wishes come true.” He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “And, Annie, I do wish to kiss you ... again and again."

  Her lips parted and her breath caught, and Jeffrey pressed his advantage. “Speak with your heart, Annie,” he whispered, leaning closer. “Let's live dangerously. We can fool the world for a few hours."

  Oh, no! she thought in dismay. She longed to say yes, to give in to the temptation to spend an entire day with him, gazing into his eyes, listening to his deep voice.... And that kind of challenge was just her cup of tea. But she couldn't, she told herself. She absolutely, positively could not.

  "It wouldn't be ethical,” she said. “I'm truly sorry."

  He frowned, not accustomed to negative responses in any area of his life. “But I want to spend some time with you. Alone.” He laughed gruffly. “What's it take to get a date with you? A move out of the hotel?"

  Her musical laughter and dancing blue eyes were almost his undoing. “Surely, a date with me can't mean that much. You'll be gone soon. I'd feel guilty if you took such drastic action."

  "I may be here for some time,” he argued doggedly. “It's indefinite."

  "Oh? What business are you in?"

  Secrets, secrets! complained his churning brain. Tell the truth, but make it evasive. “I'm ... ah ... a headhunter."

  "In what field?"

  "Corporate executives.” Well done, he congratulated himself.

  "That must be an interesting profession. Traveling around the country, interviewing all types of people."

  He shook his head, searching for a way to get her off the track. “It's boring as hell, Ann.” He favored her with another dazzling smile, enjoying the pink flush on her cheeks. “I'd rather talk about our trip."

  "I've told you, Mr. Madison-"

>   "Jeffrey ... please,” he said coaxingly.

  "All right. Jeffrey. But the answer is still no.” She tried hard to keep her voice firm and unwavering:

  He grinned again and shrugged. “Can't say I didn't try to change your mind."

  She laughed throatily. “Now, that's a fact!"

  He rose from his chair, hesitated for a moment, then turned back to her. “Ah ... would you do me one last favor?"

  "Certainly, Mr. Madison."

  He fixed her with a warning gaze.

  "Certainly, Jeffrey,” she corrected herself. “What is it?"

  "Would you cancel my reservations? I hate to sight see alone."

  "What?” She rose halfway from her Queen Anne chair.

  His large hand pressed her shoulder, easing her back into place. “Temper, temper!"

  Trying to catch her breath, she used vast amounts of energy to harness an unladylike retort. “You're perfectly right. Thank you, sir. I'll see to it at once."

  He grinned like a young kid who'd just pulled his best practical joke of the week. He was delighted with her iron control. It was a little ragged around the edges, but she'd done it.

  "See you around, Annie.” He waved jauntily. “Thanks for your time. Oh,” he added, “if you should change your mind, I'll be in the lounge on Friday evening. Perhaps you'll let me buy you a drink."

  She glared after him as he walked away, then her irritation began to fade as she saw the humor of the situation. “What chutzpah!” she exclaimed softly. The man simply would not take no for an answer.

  She saw Jeffrey again later in the afternoon, but he didn't look her way. Dressed in sports clothes, he strode out the front entrance and got into her boss's limousine. Mrs. Cummings's chauffeur, Charles, was at the wheel. Ann could see Jeffrey speak with him for a moment, then the limo pulled away. Did Jeffrey know her boss? she wondered. It certainly was curious that he should be using her car. And her chauffeur.

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  Chapter Two

  Thursday's assignment for Ann was the kitchen, and it was an eye-opener. No wonder this hotel was a world-class establishment, she thought, watching the chief chef and his many assistants prepare sumptuous individual meals for scores of room-service orders.