He shrugged. ‘You said you wanted to learn.’
‘I do.’
They stared at each other for a long moment. If one of her friends had given her a gift, she’d hug them or kiss them on the cheek. She wasn’t sure if she should kiss Dominic on the cheek. She wavered for a moment, but, just as she decided a quick peck couldn’t hurt, Dominic snapped away. ‘I have some emails I need to answer,’ he said, heading for the dining table.
‘It’s, uh, my night to cook. I’ll go rustle us up something to eat.’ And she headed for the kitchen, still clutching the books to her chest.
CHAPTER SEVEN
BELLA shuffled into the living room on Sunday morning and came to a halt when she saw Dominic in his usual spot at the table, his head bent over a file that had to be at least a foot thick, before continuing on her way to the kitchen. Every other morning this week he’d already left for the hotel by the time she’d emerged.
He glanced up as she walked past and she thought he might smile, but with a nod he returned to his work.
She drank her first cup of coffee standing in the kitchen. The window over the sink afforded a glimpse of Newcastle harbour and in the morning light the water sparkled and glistened, the foam behind the ferry chugging across the harbour a frothy invitation. The sight of that sea spray made her restless, made her realise that while she’d been here a whole week the only part of the city she’d so far seen was the walk from the apartment to the hotel.
It was a nice walk, through a small park and up a short rise, and the view from the front of the hotel looking out over Newcastle beach was breathtaking, but she’d had enough of being cooped up. Being cooped up would not be conducive to creating the best restaurant the city had ever seen.
She glanced at the door. Nor the best hotel either, she suspected. Did Dominic mean to work for every minute of the entire two months they were here? Didn’t he mean to take at least one day a week off to recharge his batteries and keep fresh?
She needed him relaxed before approaching him with her new budget proposal. She needed him fresh if he was to give that proposal a fair hearing. She needed him relaxed and fresh if she hoped to prove to him that she wasn’t the spoiled brat he thought her.
She made toast and another cup of coffee and took it into the living room. She proffered her plate to Dominic on the way past, but he shook his head and continued to work. She perched on the edge of the sofa and, when she was sure Dominic’s attention was completely immersed in his file, she fed Minky a corner of her toast. The cat even deigned to be petted for a few seconds before stalking away again.
That was a definite improvement. She stole a glance at Dominic. He ignored her as effectively as Minky now did.
She washed up her breakfast things, showered and dressed deliberately casually in jeans and a bright blue sweater, and when she came back out into the living room Dominic was still bent over that file. She planted her hands on her hips. ‘You can’t be serious, right?’
He glanced up and finally smiled, the blue of his eyes the same shade as the dancing water of the harbour she’d viewed earlier. It took her pulse off-guard, knocking it sideways and bumping up its speed. ‘Good morning, Bella.’
She pulled in a breath. ‘Good morning, Dominic.’
He set his pen down and leaned back in his seat. Somehow the dainty lines of the chair only served to emphasise his out-and-out masculinity. ‘As I recall, you requested no cheerful chatter in the mornings, at least not until your second cup of coffee. How did I do?’
She gave in to the urge to smile back at him. ‘Perfectly,’ she had to admit. ‘You were the epitome of the model housemate.’
‘I aim to please.’
Ooh, she just bet he did.
‘Now, tell me what I can’t be serious about.’
She shook herself, and then stood awkwardly for a moment. During the last week the table had become Dominic’s territory and she didn’t want to invade it, even when he gestured for her to take the seat opposite him. She propped herself against the arm of the sofa instead and tossed a tinkly ball for Minky, who ignored it.
Relaxed; she wanted him relaxed. And open. Friendly wouldn’t hurt either. She straightened. ‘Don’t you believe in taking any time off?’
‘This assignment is only for two months. I can rest when it’s done.’
‘Bzzz.’ She made the sound of a game-show buzzer. ‘That is so not the right answer.’
His lips twitched.
‘I’m sorry, but you are not invincible, Mr Wright.’
‘I’m not frightened by a bit of hard work, Bella.’
Neither was she, even if he didn’t choose to believe that. Physically she’d worked harder in her uncle’s restaurant—cooking, waitressing, washing dishes—than she had this past week, but there was no denying that this job was far more challenging. She lifted her chin. She’d prove to him yet how wrong he was about her. ‘I know what you think of me, Dominic, but are you unhappy with the hours I’ve put in this week?’
‘No, so far you’re on track.’
She ignored the implicit scepticism stretching through his words. He didn’t need to say it out loud—he didn’t expect her to last the distance. Only time would prove to him how wrong he was.
‘I happen to believe it’s important to take time off. It keeps a body fresh and recharges the batteries.’
‘Not everyone has that luxury, Bella.’
She rolled her eyes. ‘Oh, puh-leeze! You aren’t one of those poor sods, Dominic, so you can drop the “high and mighty martyr” act.’
He threw his head back and laughed. It bumped her pulse rate up again. She rolled her shoulders, vexed with herself for snapping at him, for letting him rile her and get under her skin. Relaxed, she ordered. Fun, light, cheerful.
‘If you get sick because of overwork, you know who my father will blame, don’t you?’ She slapped a hand to her chest. ‘Me! I refuse to be responsible for that.’
‘I promise I’m not about to keel over and take sick.’
She eyed him a moment. ‘You appreciate straight talking, right?’
‘The straighter the better.’
‘Okay, you’re on notice— I will not let the effects of your overwork sabotage my restaurant.’
He pushed his chair back and twisted to face her more fully, his long legs stretched out in front of him and his expression intrigued. ‘Would you care to explain that?’
She sent him her sweetest smile. ‘I’d be delighted to. If you don’t take any time off, if you work yourself into the ground, how do you expect to make the best business decisions? If you become over-tired your judgement will become impaired. Being as obsessive as you are, seemingly determined to work every single minute of every single day, is supposed to achieve what, exactly?’ She didn’t think that attitude would help to create the hotel her father had his heart set on.
Dominic folded his arms. He didn’t answer.
‘I think it’s important for the person in charge to have, and display, some balance.’
His lips twitched again. ‘You think I’m unbalanced?’
She opened her mouth to deliver something suitably crushing, and then she remembered the dispiriting blankness of his bedroom. And all those many, many conquests of his—none of whom had lasted beyond a couple of weeks. She also remembered she was supposed to be doing fun, light-hearted and cheerful so she rolled her eyes in mock-exasperation. ‘You said it, buddy.’
A low rumble emerged from his chest. It made the breath jam in her throat. As soon as the sound had melted away, he jerked upright in his chair, his eyes hard and narrowed. ‘Is this some roundabout way of asking me for time off, Bella? Because, let me tell you now, there’s not a scarecrow’s chance in hell of that happening.’
‘It’s me telling you up front that I have no intention of working on Sundays.’
He really did have the most appalling opinion of her, didn’t he? They glared at each other for a moment. Then Dominic eased back into his seat. ‘
That seems fair enough. I’m sorry I jumped to conclusions.’
She had a feeling he wasn’t the least bit sorry. Suddenly fun, light-hearted and cheerful all flew out of the window. She wasn’t going to let him wreck her father’s hotel. Dominic knew how to ruthlessly take over a company, and he knew what it took to increase efficiency and productivity. He knew how to wheel and deal, but did he know how to nurture a dream? Did he know how to grow something from its very beginnings?
‘You’re commitment-phobic in your personal life. Are you in business, as well?’
His head snapped back. ‘Of course not!’
She slammed her hands to her hips. ‘How much of your heart do you mean to give the hotel?’
He stared at her as if she’d just grown horns. ‘It doesn’t need my heart. It needs my business smarts.’
‘This whole project—it’s just a stepping stone for you, isn’t it?’
‘And for you.’
‘I want this hotel to honour my mother and my father. But you, you just want results in the short-term. The long-term is someone else’s problem as far as you’re concerned, isn’t it? You’re not interested in creating a...a culture.’
‘Bella, you’re losing me.’
She tapped her foot. ‘How much of this city have you seen?’
‘About the same as you, I expect. Plus, I read the Lonely Planet piece.’
The publication had named Newcastle as one of the top ten cities to visit in 2011.
‘And I’ve read all the tourist brochures.’
‘You think that’s enough?’
‘I know what the city has to offer.’
‘But you haven’t experienced any of those offerings.’
‘I don’t need to.’
She leapt up from the arm of the sofa. ‘Yes, you do!’
‘Why?’
‘So you can make sure that the Newcastle Maldini is the best!’ She was starting to fear that the Newcastle Maldini wasn’t going to be any different from the hundreds of other five-star hotels already in existence. That didn’t seem fair to her father. And it didn’t seem fair to Dominic who worked so hard either. ‘Look, it’s like Hamlet, right?’
He blinked. ‘I’m a lot of things, Bella, but an indecisive Danish prince isn’t one of them.’
She tried to gather her thoughts so she could explain them to him. ‘It’s the idea that if something is rotten in the state of Denmark—the idea that if the king is ineffectual or corrupt—then that filters down to the rest of the society.’
He scratched both hands back through his hair, making it stand on end. Bella had to fight the sudden urge to reach out and smooth it back down. ‘Are you accusing me of being ineffectual or corrupt?’
‘Oh, don’t be ridiculous! But don’t you see? At the hotel you’re the equivalent of the king. Your attitude filters down through your managers and then to the rest of the staff.’
‘So if there’s something wrong in my attitude—?’
‘Precisely. Now, I understand the emphasis on excellence in service and the luxuriousness and comfort of the hotel et cetera.’ She cut in before he could start to get angry or offended. ‘Of course that’s the kind of reputation we want to foster.’
‘But?’
‘But don’t you feel there’s something missing?’
He leaned forward and stared at her intently. ‘Like?’
She frowned, trying to find the words to verbalise a feeling, a sense of unease that was vague at best. ‘What,’ she started slowly, ‘is going to make the Newcastle Maldini different from all the other Maldini hotels?’
‘I don’t want it to be different! I want all the Maldini hotels to share a reputation for excellence.’
She frowned harder and tried again. ‘Okay, then what is going to make the Newcastle Maldini different from any of the other five-star hotels in the area? What is going to make someone decide to stay there rather than somewhere else?’
‘I take it you do have an answer?’
‘What about a working understanding of the city’s diversity and all that it has to offer?’
He shifted impatiently. ‘We have advertising and PR people who will take care of that. I know that you don’t fully understand business, Bella, but the concierge and reception staff will be thoroughly versed in the cultural and leisure activities the city has to offer.’
‘Oh, yes, they’ll be thoroughly versed, but they’ll take their cue from you.’ Her hands clenched in sudden frustration. ‘Don’t you think we all need to experience the city, to develop a proper appreciation and understanding of it?’
He frowned at her again.
‘Because,’ she pushed on, ‘what use will all that knowledge be? It’ll simply be a soulless passing on of facts without enthusiasm or passion.’
‘We’ll be providing our patrons with information they request, that’s what good it will do.’
‘But we won’t be offering them anything additional. We won’t be giving them anything distinct or different from any other hotel.’
He folded his arms and leant back. She had no idea what he was thinking. Finally she shook her head. ‘You really don’t get it, do you?’ The Maldini hotel had to have a heart and soul, a unique and distinctive spirit.
He stared back at her with hooded eyes. He didn’t say anything. She thought back to his bedroom with its horrid blankness.
‘Okay.’ She clapped her hands. ‘Come on, we’re going out. I’ll see if I can’t show you what I mean.’
He stared down at his file and pursed his lips.
‘Oh, please, Dominic, it’s Sunday!’
‘I’m not going to get any peace until I do, am I?’
‘Very perceptive of you.’
He surrendered with a sigh.
By the time she’d checked Minky’s water bowl and had topped up her cat biscuits, Dominic was ready. Bella shoved her keys into one pocket and some money in the other.
He nodded to the money. ‘What’s that for?’
‘Ice-cream.’
‘By eating ice-cream I’m going to experience the heart of Newcastle?’
She raised an eyebrow. ‘Do you doubt it?’
He laughed and followed her to the lift. When they reached the street, he said, ‘Did you have a particular destination in mind?’
‘Oh, yes.’ Without another word, she set off towards the hotel. Ignoring the staff entrance, she led him across the road until they stood opposite the beach. ‘This view has been taunting me all week.’
‘Taunting?’ He followed her down to the boardwalk below. ‘I’ve been enjoying it.’
Something niggled at her as she glanced back at him. It scuttled out of reach as she tried to grasp it.
The beach gleamed in the morning sun, the water glorious shades of blues and greens. It wasn’t warm enough yet for swimming, but there were a handful of surfers catching the curling breakers that built up out the back, and children paddling along the shoreline and playing in the sand. Farther up the beach, a game of volleyball was underway. Bella dragged salt air into her lungs and her shoulders loosened. ‘Well, I’ve enjoyed it, too,’ she admitted. ‘But I’ve been dying to be a part of it.’ Hadn’t he?
She had the sudden stomach-sinking sensation that Dominic’s answer to that would be ‘no.’ She flicked a glance at him. Why not? He enjoyed...
She frowned. Actually, what precisely did Dominic enjoy? What had she seen him enjoy?
He seemed to enjoy joking with his staff. She bit her lip and recalled the lecture he’d given her about the importance of teamwork. Did he truly enjoy those jokes or was it simply part of a strategy—a charm offensive—to keep everyone motivated and happy?
Given his reputation, he must enjoy sex.
But it was sex without commitment. There was no long-term enjoyment to be had there.
Walking so close beside him that she could pull great swathes of his cinnamon scent into her lungs, it suddenly seemed seriously unwise to contemplate his sex life.
�
��Take a deep breath,’ she ordered, setting off in the direction of the art deco façade of the ocean baths pavilion, and turning her face into the faint breeze so she dragged salt rather than cinnamon into her body. ‘Isn’t it heavenly?’
She rushed on before he could disoblige her by grunting out a ‘no.’ ‘Did you have any beach holidays as a child?’
‘No.’
That was grunted out with disobliging curtness. His face shuttered closed and she wondered what particular raw nerve she’d hit this time. Suddenly her reasons for wanting him relaxed and calm seemed trivial and petty; selfish. He worked so hard. He deserved some quality down time, with no hidden agendas. She suddenly wanted him to enjoy the day just for itself.
‘Well, there’s nothing stopping you from having beach holidays as an adult, is there? You can pretend you’re on holidays today.’
Some of the tightness eased out of him. ‘And why would I want to do that?’
‘Because holidays are lovely. And...’
‘And?’
‘I’m pretending I’m on vacation today and the pretence will be easier to maintain if you play along.’
His grin hooked up one side of his mouth. Without even seeming to realise it, he lifted his face to the sun and ran one hand through his hair. Her breath caught at the sight of all of that red-gold firing to life in the sun. Her heart slammed against her ribs.
Oh, good Lord! She wrenched her gaze away before she did something daft like stumble into a pothole or crash into something solid and unmoveable.
They walked on in silence for a bit. Bella hoped it was a companionable silence, only she couldn’t swear it was. She was too busy trying to get her slavering hormones back under control.
Deep breaths, Bella. Deep breaths.
The ocean baths gave way to a vast rock-shelf. At low tide the rock pools would sparkle in the sun and entice explorers. Bella made a mental note to check when the next low tide was due.
She pointed. ‘Destination number one is up ahead. I’ve been dying to see the famous Nobby’s Head with its celebrated lighthouse.’ Nobby’s beach spread along one side of the headland. The other side, complete with a breakwater, bordered the harbour.
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