Kate Little – A Bachelor At The Wedding (страница 8)

Matt’s voice rose a notch on each point. Ben Drury seemed to flinch inside his dark blue suit.

Stephanie felt instantly jolted awake. She took a deep breath and glanced at Drury. He was in the hot seat and she felt sorry for him all over again.

She suddenly felt sorry for herself, too. It looked as if they were going to be up all night.

Up all night with Matthew Harding. Was her name going to be added to some long list in his diary, she joked to herself. With a footnote, of course.

How could hell look so much like paradise?

That was Stephanie’s first thought as she stepped through the glass doors and stared out at the magnificent view. The private patio, complete with a pool and hot tub, was set right on the beach, steps from the crystal blue bay. At half past six in the morning, the beach was totally empty, serene in the early light. The sand looked fine and white as sugar and the sea was a crystal shade of turquoise blue.

The private patio was beautifully landscaped, with scarlet and white hibiscus and hot-pink bougainvillea that bloomed wildly while tall palms provided corners of shade. A lattice-work wall, covered with a lush, flowering vine separated the space from the neighboring suite.

The suite where her boss was presumably still sleeping.

Stephanie hugged the hotel-issue, terry-cloth bathrobe around her slim form and padded back inside. She wasn’t even sure how she’d woken up so early. The alarm clock she’d found on the nightstand had helped. And she never could sleep late in a strange place.

But it was mostly sheer terror that had propelled her out of bed today, after little more than four hours’ sleep.

She pulled apart the little coffeemaker in the suite’s efficient kitchen. She set it up and turned it on. Coffee. She needed some. Bad. Real bad. Though she must have drunk at least a gallon of it last night.

They’d worked until nearly 2:00 a.m., Ben Drury, Matt, Stephanie and a few key executives, huddled together as they reviewed every facet of hotel operations. Hotel in-operations was more like it—as in totally inoperative, out of order, defunct.

This was not a surprise. The surprise was that Matt—bullheaded, optimistic, never say die—Harding expected to keep things up and running until the labor dispute was resolved. Which, at the current rate, looked like never.

Stephanie had to admire him. Another man would have closed the place down, booked the guests into other hotels, the Harding resort in the Florida Keys for instance. Or sent them home with rain checks or gift certificates. But not Matt Harding.

Pushed to the wall—and delirious from sleep deprivation and an overdose of caffeine—Stephanie had come up with a few innovative ideas last night that seemed to both impress and please her boss.

But it was one thing to come up with these crazy tactics to keep guests happy and fed and so full of blender drinks, they couldn’t budge off their lounge chairs, much less pack up and leave the place early.

It was another story entirely to actually pull the rabbit out of the hat. To pull off these crowd-pleasing tricks.

She’d left with the other executives, while Matt remained, going over the union contract with a bleary-eyed Drury.

Matt had hardly seemed tired, she recalled, while the rest of them were sitting with their chins on the table. He had stamina. Loads of it. The gossip about him was true. He could go all night. She smiled into her mug as the errant image raced through her mind.

The sound of splashing water broke into her thoughts. She returned to the glass doors again and glanced at the pool, expecting to see a seagull looking for a luxury bird bath. The pool was empty, without a ripple. Then she realized the sound was coming from next door. Matt’s territory.

She took a few quiet steps outside and peeked through the vine-covered divider. She could see his dark head cutting through the surface of the water, his long muscular arms and smooth broad back glistening as he made his way down the length of the pool with a powerful breaststroke.

He was…gorgeous. No question. He looked good in clothes, but this was something else altogether.

She felt guilty watching him in secret, a peeping Tom. Or the female equivalent. Still, she couldn’t force herself to look away. He was the very definition of total hunk. The masculine ideal. His torso rose as he reached forward in the water and her gaze slid down his sleek form….

What a pair of shoulders. Look at those arms. What a cute butt….

He twisted onto his back, floating a moment as he stared at the sky, then started a backstroke.

Her gaze scanned the flip side, from head to—

Stephanie blinked and dropped her mug. It crashed and broke into a million pieces. She jumped out of the way with a muffled curse, hot coffee burning her toes. She glanced through the screen just long enough to see that Matt had indeed heard the noise and knew she was standing there.

She heard the splashing stop and didn’t dare look again to see if he was coming out of the pool.

“Stephanie? Is that you?”

It’s my evil twin. I would never stand here, stalking you. Gawking at your naked anatomy…

Feeling totally mortified, her cheeks flaming as if she’d sat all day in the sun, she swiftly crept inside, not daring to make a sound.

Her only hope was to avoid Matt when he left his room, she decided.

She quickly dressed in her rinsed-out underwear and yesterday’s outfit. Then twisted up her hair and brushed her teeth with the corner of a washcloth and the complimentary toothpaste.

No makeup to hide the bags under her eyes. She could only find a tube of lipstick in her purse. The wrong color, but she put it on anyway, then checked herself out in the mirror.

She looked terrible. No question.

There are worse ways to start the day, Stephanie, she reminded herself. Like being caught checking out your boss in his birthday suit.

Stephanie arrived at the main building of the hotel feeling breathless. Luckily, there was a plan, outlined last night at the meeting. The first hurdle was getting through breakfast service. Stephanie found every able-bodied employee of the hotel assembled in the kitchen, with most not having the faintest idea of what to do.

She checked her notes and got them moving, somehow setting up a passable breakfast buffet in the outdoor dining space. Ben Drury, wearing a chef’s hat and apron, manned the omelet station.

The poor man was desperate to save his job, Stephanie realized. He’d do just about anything, short of posing on a platter with an apple in his mouth. He’d been trained in the food and beverage area of the hotel before his promotions, she’d learned, so this was a logical and the most helpful place for him to stay all day.

Out in the dining room, a man in a golf cap complained at the self-service concept. His grumbling was nearly as loud as the print on his Hawaiian shirt.

“A buffet? Give me a frigging break. I’m paying good money to have a waiter carry my food to the table. Didn’t the rest of you?”

A few guests averted their gaze, too polite to engage him. But some others started ranting, too.

Not even nine o’clock and she was facing a mutiny.

Drury rushed around, playing waiter in an attempt to placate them. Stephanie ran over and poured out coffee. Then talked up the freebies that would be available today in all parts of the hotel—free tennis lessons, sailboats, Jet Skis and down in the spa, massages, facials and aromatherapy.

The frowns soon turned to smiles while Stephanie made a mental note to have a huge sign posting the free services placed at the front desk—giving second thoughts to anyone trying to check out.

The rebellion had been quelled. Momentarily. Stephanie sighed, her body sagging with relief. Would she ever manage to last the day?

“How are you doing, Stephanie? Everything under control?”

Matt’s voice put her on instant alert. She felt as if he’d just materialized beside her out of thin air. Like a character on Star Trek.

She stood up tall and forced a smile. “So far, so good. We got the breakfast service going and the complimentary spa treatments and water sports vouchers seem to be working.”

“Yes, a great idea. That should help.” Matt was dressed in fresh clothes, she noticed. A blue shirt, black pants and a charcoal-gray linen jacket and silk tie. His crisp attire made her feel even more crumpled. She made a mental note to check out the resort shops at some point, if she could.

As good as he looked in his outfit, she couldn’t help but remember what was underneath….

“Up early?”

“Um…yes. I was. I got up early and headed right over here.”

Liar, liar. Pants on fire, she chided herself.

“Really? What a shame. It was a beautiful morning. You should have taken a few minutes out on your patio. To check out the view.”

Stephanie felt her cheeks flame, but forced herself to keep a calm expression.

He knew. He just enjoyed playing games, didn’t he?

She looked up and met his eye. “I was in a rush today. Maybe tomorrow morning,” she answered smoothly, “when I have more time to enjoy it.”

His bland expression changed suddenly, looking surprised at her comeback.