“Well, that's the problem. The list just keeps growing, with no end in sight.”
Larissa giggled and realized the alcohol was catching up with her. Suddenly, she was laughing hard and couldn't seem to stop. Ian's warm laughter filled the room and a few other diners glanced in their direction. A murmur spread through the restaurant as people recognized his familiar face and turned to stare at him.
“Perhaps we should leave,” she said between giggles.
A woman at a nearby table gaped at him in open-mouthed wonder.
He shook his head. “This is the Highsmith, not McDonald's. No one will bother us.”
“Oh my God! It's Ian Renard!” A middle-aged, heavyset woman appeared in front of their table and stared at Ian with something like religious rapture.
“Mr. Ian.” She laughed. “I mean, Mr. Renard, I've seen all your films, even the bad ones. You're so incredible.”
He gave her his trademark grin. “Thank you, ma'am.”
“Oh, that voice!” she squealed. “I can't wait to tell the girls back in Alabama that I actually saw Ian Renard and heard him speak! My husband Charlie just won the World Poker Championship, and this is our first trip to Europe.” She paused for breath. “Would you please sign this napkin for me?”
“I'd be delighted.”
“I could listen to your voice all night,” she continued. “I've seen King Richard the Lionhearted thirty-five times; I swear I have. I finally had to buy another copy because I wore out the first one.” She turned to Larissa and held out her hand. “I'm Verna Rae Castle, pleasure to meet you. Are you Ian's wife? You sure are pretty. Do you all live here in London?”
Larissa shook her hand and smiled.
Without waiting for a reply to any of her questions, Verna Rae continued speaking. “I wish I'd brought my camera so I could get a picture with you.” Her shoulders sagged in disappointment. “But at least I've got my signed napkin.”
Verna Rae continued to pepper Ian with questions and compliments. Larissa wondered if they'd be able to finish their dinner in peace. It went with the job, she decided, and knew they were well-paid to accept these small inconveniences.
She took another sip of wine and then glanced around the crowded restaurant. She noticed a group of men and women dressed in airline uniforms congregated at the front entrance.
That was when she saw him.
Chapter 6
A Greek god in a pilot's uniform.
That was Larissa's first thought as she stared at the blond Adonis who stood across the room from her.
As if sensing her gaze on him, the man turned his head in her direction. Their eyes met and held. As time lost all meaning, she greedily devoured the sight of him like a starving person suddenly confronted with a huge banquet. Continental plates could have shifted and the earth could have spun out of its orbit, but she wouldn't have noticed. She found herself unable to tear her gaze from his, and he matched her stare with equal intensity.
Suddenly, her view of him was obstructed by a group of people who congregated around the table and began taking pictures of Ian.
She leaped from her chair, spilling her glass of wine across the crisp, linen tablecloth.
“I'm sorry,” she said to no one in particular. “Please excuse me.”
When she made her way through the throng of autograph seekers and was finally able to see past the gauntlet of human bodies, the maitre'd stood alone at his station. The airline employees had disappeared. The restaurant was filled to capacity, and she took her time scanning each table in search of the handsome face she had glimpsed for one brief moment.
Where was he?
Then she saw him through the French doors at the entrance to the restaurant. He was walking away and would soon be absorbed into the crowd of people in the lobby.
No!
She weaved between tables as she kept her eyes focused on the back of his head. She could still see him, but he was almost out of her field of vision.
Her heel snagged on the carpet and she stumbled forward. Before she could stop herself, she landed face-first on the floor.
“Are you all right, miss?” One of the waiters hurried to her side and helped her to her feet.
“Hey, it's Larissa Christie,” said a voice from a nearby table. “I told you it was her. Could we have your autograph?”
Ignoring all distractions, Larissa sprinted through the restaurant and then out the front entrance. Once in the lobby, she looked in every direction but her golden Adonis was nowhere to be seen.
After a long moment, she walked slowly back to the restaurant.
“Excuse me.” She caught the maitre'd's attention. “There was a party of airline employees who were just here. Do you know where they went?”
He shook his head. “I'm afraid not. I told them without reservations we couldn't seat them tonight. As you can see, we're fully booked.”
“Did they say where they were going?”
He frowned. “I don't think so. They were disappointed, but didn't say anything about their plans for the evening.”
Larissa's face crumpled, and for some unfathomable reason she felt like bursting into tears.
The maitre'd eyed her stricken expression and said quickly, “If it helps you, I know they're staying here at the hotel.”
“They are?” Adrenaline flooded her system. “How do you know that?”
“Because I heard them talking about their flight being canceled due to the weather, and this was the only hotel with available rooms. They joked about the airline not being happy about paying for rooms at the Highsmith because they're rather expensive.” He laughed. “I gather this isn't the usual venue for airline personnel on layovers.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you so much.”
“No,” he stammered. “Thank you, miss.”
She hurried over to the hotel's front desk where the clerk confirmed there were eight employees of Euro Air staying at the Highsmith. However, he refused to give up their room numbers.
“This is very important,” she pleaded with him. “It's something of an emergency.”
He frowned. “I'm sorry, but I can't give out confidential information.”
Larissa decided it was time to pull out the big guns. Leaning forward on the counter, the better to display her cleavage, she gave him a breathtaking smile.
“Can't you please help me?” she purred in a sexy, confidential tone. “I'll make it worth your while.”
After promising him an autographed picture and a kiss, she finally received the information she sought.
“I can't give out room numbers, but they're all staying on the second floor,” he said. “They're booked into the smaller rooms near the balcony which overlooks Hyde Park.”
Then he closed his eyes and she gave him a long, lingering kiss on the lips. She felt it was a small price to pay for such important information.
“Thank—thank you,” he murmured as she hurried away from him.
When she returned to the restaurant, Verna Rae was explaining to Ian how she would have fixed his last film and made it even better.
“Where have you been?” he interrupted her litany of complaints to address Larissa.
She smiled at him without speaking.
“You're flushed,” he said. “What happened to you?”
She touched her cheek. “I'd like to leave now, if you don't mind.”
As they walked toward the elevator, he eyed her with suspicion. “Are you going to tell me why you look like the cat who just ate the canary?”
She shook her head. “I'd rather not tell you because it's ridiculous if I say it out loud, like something which might happen to a schoolgirl and not a grown woman.”
“Well little schoolgirl, I promise I won't laugh at your ridiculous story.”
“Promise?”
“Cross my heart.”
She sighed. “Tonight I saw a vision.”
“A vision?”
“T
he most gorgeous man I've ever seen. I only glimpsed him for a second, but he was like a picture from one of my childhood storybooks. Prince Charming brought to life.”
“When did you see him?”
“While you were signing autographs. He was standing at the entrance to the restaurant, and that's why I left the table. I've been trying to find him, and I think I have.”
“You mean to tell me you fell in love with this mysterious Prince Charming while Verna Rae Castle was boring me to tears with her life story?” He shook his head in disbelief. “Larissa, say it isn't so!”
She beamed at him, unable to hide her growing excitement.
“Fucking hell!” he growled.
Chapter 7
Captain Merrick and his flight crew walked through the lobby of the Highsmith Hotel. After talking it over on the drive from the airport, they decided to have dinner at the hotel's finest restaurant, the Ivory Room.
Flight 75 to New York was cancelled until the following day. The unseasonable snowstorm had taken everyone by surprise and the airport had been forced to shut down. The airline scrambled to find a place for the crew to spend the night, and by bloody good fortune they ended up at the Highsmith.
“Since we're getting these rooms for free, we might as well splurge on dinner,” said Lloyd Carstairs, Sean's co-pilot.
Sean smiled. “Sounds like a plan, but who's picking up the tab?”
Lloyd laughed. “Between the eight of us, we should manage to cover the bill.”
When they walked into the Ivory Room, the maitre'd delivered the bad news. The restaurant was booked for the evening. Since they had no reservations, he saw no way he could squeeze them in for dinner.
There were groans of disappointment from the group. Sean left it to the others to argue their case as he looked around the lovely restaurant. The place was certainly posh, with its romantic candlelit atmosphere, subtle ivory wallpaper, and well-dressed people enjoying a fine meal. Looking toward the back of the room, he saw an exquisite woman whose attention was focused on him.
He had never seen such a perfect combination of sweetness and beauty. Her lips were full and pink, and she had the face of a mischievous angel. Her sapphire blue dress complimented the porcelain perfection of her skin.
Suddenly, a crowd of people moved in front of her table and he lost sight of her.
“They're not going to let us in,” said Lloyd. “But I know another restaurant down the street. We can walk.”
Sean hesitated. He didn't want to go anywhere; he wanted another glimpse of the goddess in blue.
“Are you coming with us?” Lloyd put a hand on his shoulder and guided him out the French doors and into the lobby. The rest of the party was already ahead of them and making their way through the crowd. As they walked out into the frigid evening air, Sean looked back and wondered if he would ever see the Aphrodite in blue again.
There was no problem getting a table at the restaurant down the street. Sean found himself suddenly ravenous so he ordered a salad and steak. The food may have been delicious, as Lloyd claimed, but he couldn't concentrate on his dinner. His mind was back at the hotel, back in the Ivory Room. Finally, he pulled out his wallet.
“I'm really tired,” he said to the others. “I think I'll go back to my room.”
“But we're going dancing,” protested Elisa, one of the flight attendants. Her lips turned downward in a pout as she pierced him with her gaze. “It won't be as much fun without you.”
He stiffened as her hand touched his thigh under cover of the tablecloth.
He stood and threw some money on the table, promising to see them the following day.
As soon as he was outside the restaurant, Sean dashed down the street and made his way back to the hotel. When he reached the Ivory Room, he straightened his tie and then scanned the crowd as he searched for her.
She was gone. The table where she had sat was empty and clean.
“Excuse me,” he said to the maitre'd. “I was looking for a woman.”
“Aren't we all?” The man gave him a tired smile.
“What I mean is—never mind.” Sean turned and left the restaurant, walking toward the hotel pub. He sat down on one of the leather stools in front of the bar and ordered a drink. Since he had to fly the following day, he requested only sparkling water with a twist of lime. Glancing around the warm, cozy room, he suddenly felt alone. Deeply alone.
The sound of female laughter caught his attention. He turned to see a trio of attractive redheads sitting at a corner table. They were all dressed in short, black leather skirts and black stiletto heels. One of them had multiple piercings in her ears and colorful tattoos on her bare arms. Another wore a leather top which barely covered her breasts, and she had a gold ring in her bellybutton. The third woman wore black fishnet stockings, which reminded Sean of his lusty night with Fiona. She crossed her legs, and he caught a glimpse of a black garter belt. She saw him staring and said something to the other women. Then they burst into high-pitched giggles as he turned his attention back to the bar.
A few moments later, the bartender placed a drink in front of him.
Sean frowned. “I didn't order this.”
“Compliments of the ladies in the corner.”
He turned to see the women smiling at him. One of them crooked her finger and motioned him over to their table.
He picked up his drink and walked across the pub.
The memory of the goddess in blue filled his mind. He should have waited in the lobby until she left the restaurant. Maybe he could have found some excuse to speak to her. Her face had seemed familiar to him, and he wondered if he'd ever seen her before. Definitely not. He would have remembered that face. Still, there was something so familiar about it.
What did it matter anyway? He had glimpsed her for only a few seconds and would never see her again. His heart experienced a stab of pain as raw and biting as the frigid wind outside the hotel.
Perhaps he could find out if she was a guest in the hotel. Of course, he couldn't very well ask the desk clerk which room belonged to a gorgeous woman in a blue cocktail dress. Lurking around the hallways hoping to see her again was definitely not an option either.
Sean smiled at the three women as he approached their table. A little company might be just what the doctor ordered.
* * * *
Half an hour later, he had discovered quite a bit of information about his new friends. Delilah Blue, Devon, and DesaRay worked in the porn industry and usually appeared together in films. They were among those on their way to New York for the Adult Film Awards, but their flight had been canceled. They found it amusing when they discovered Sean would be their pilot the following day.
“Thank you for the drink,” he finally said, “but I must say goodnight now.”
Delilah Blue pierced him with her hot gaze. “What floor are you staying on?”
“The second.”
“Well, isn't that a coincidence?” she purred with a sexy Southern drawl. “We're also on the second floor. Would you walk us to our room?”
He nodded. “Certainly.”
They left the bar and strolled across the lobby. The women were tall and towered over him like redheaded Amazons.
“What's your room number?” he asked when they reached the second floor.
“If you tell us yours, we'll tell you ours,” said Delilah. The other girls laughed as if this was the funniest thing they had ever heard.
“You asked me to walk you to your room,” Sean pointed out.
“We can find our way home from here. How about if we walk you to your room?”
He shrugged as he pointed to Room 216. “This is me.”
“Sleep tight, Captain Merrick.” Delilah leaned forward and kissed him. Then DesaRay pressed herself against his chest and put her lips to his. Afterwards, it was Devon's turn to do the same.
“Why don't you come have a nightcap with us?” whispered DesaRay. She pulled Devon into her embrace and planted a long slow kiss on
the other woman's lips.
The women giggled at his shocked expression. His erection strained against the fabric of his trousers and he hoped they didn't notice it.
Delilah ran a fiery red fingernail up the front of his uniform shirt. “If you get lonely, we're just down the hall.”
Sean decided he wasn't ready to go back to his solitary room. “And where might that be?”
“In the Palace of Pleasure,” she said. “Where else?”
“The Palace of Pleasure,” he mused. “Sounds like the sort of place I'd like to visit.”
Chapter 8
Larissa sat in front of the mirror braiding her hair after changing into jeans and a t-shirt. She hoped her casual attire would make her inconspicuous while she carried out some reconnaissance work on the second floor.
When she walked into the sitting room, she found Ian sprawled on the sofa watching television.
Frowning, she said, “Why are you still here? I thought you said you were going back to your room.”
“I thought about it, but I've decided to keep an eye on you. I can't let you run around the second floor chasing a stranger who might be a rapist or worse. You need someone to watch your back.”
“He's a pilot, not a rapist. And how did you know that was my plan?”
“I'm an actor and it's my job to read people.” He grinned. “Besides, it was written all over your face. Ever since you saw that guy, you've seemed a bit preoccupied.”
The concern on his face touched her heart. Perhaps she had misjudged him, and maybe he wasn't the shallow, skirt-chaser she took him for.
* * * *
Larissa and Ian took the elevator down to the second floor. Stepping out into a short hallway, they walked around the corner. At the end of the hall, three scantily-clad women stood talking to a man in a pilot's uniform.
It was him. Her blond vision.
Larissa stared at him, but he didn't see her. His attention was focused on other things.
Hostages of Love (Siren Publishing Allure) Page 3
