Stranded with the Tycoon (Mills & Boon Cherish)

by Pembroke, Sophie

  In fact, he’d realised with a jolt, he knew exactly what she looked like. That permanent frown etched in her forehead, the frustration around her eyes—they were familiar. He’d seen them on his mother’s face often enough.

  But that hadn’t explained his sudden interest. He’d studied her closer and eventually decided it was her clothes. Despite the ‘stay away’ vibes her demeanour gave out, her clothes were just begging to be touched. Straight velvet skirt in the darkest plum, a navy sweater that looked so soft it had to be cashmere. Even her sensible brown boots were suede. She certainly hadn’t dressed like that at university. Ben appreciated fine fabrics, and the sight had made his fingers itch to touch them.

  He’d wondered what she had on underneath.

  A woman couldn’t wear clothes that strokeable if she didn’t have something of a sensual nature under them. Even if she didn’t know it was there yet. Maybe Lucinda Myles had an inner sensuality just begging to be let out after all these years. Ben had thought he might like to help her with that. For old times’ sake.

  Daisy had returned to report on the utter lack of available hotel rooms in the local area, and Luce had moved away—which simply didn’t fit in with Ben’s plans. So he’d stepped forward and suggested the King James Suite, which had had the added bonus of enabling him to watch Luce’s face when she realised who she’d be sharing with.

  Except her reaction wasn’t quite what he’d been expecting.

  There’d been no sign that she recognised him, for a start, which was a bit of a blow to the ego. He liked to think he was a fairly memorable guy. But then, he’d grown up in eight years. Changed just as she had. Would he have recognised her without hearing her name? Probably not. So he could forgive her that. No, the cutting part was that instead of flushing red or widening her eyes, like Daisy did, or even giving him a glimpse through her armour of tension and irritation like any other woman would have, Lucinda Myles had winced.

  Winced. At the prospect of spending the night with him.

  Daisy’s eyes grew wider than ever and Ben decided it might be better for his reputation—and ego—if they moved this conversation elsewhere.

  ‘Before you get entirely the wrong idea about my intentions,’ he said, angling an arm behind Luce to guide her towards the bar, ‘I should point out that I’m the owner of this hotel rather than an opportunistic guest. Ben Hampton, by the way.’ A slow blink from Luce. Recognition? Ben pressed on anyway. ‘And you should also know that the King James Suite has two very finely appointed bedrooms.’

  Luce pursed her lips and eyed him speculatively before giving a sharp nod. ‘Buy me a gin and tonic and you can explain exactly what you did mean by propositioning me in that manner while I try and find somewhere else to stay tonight.’

  It wasn’t entirely what he’d intended, but it would do. It would give her time to remember him, or for him to introduce himself all over again. And getting her even more tightly wound than usual would only make it more glorious when she fell apart under his touch.

  CHAPTER TWO

  LUCE SMIRKED AT Ben Hampton’s retreating back and wondered what on earth had possessed the owner of a luxury hotel like the Royal Court to offer to share his suite with a complete stranger. Unless, of course, he remembered her, too. In which case, why hadn’t he just said so? She was pretty sure Ben Hampton had never suffered from the sort of crippling embarrassment that sometimes held her back even now. He certainly hadn’t when he was twenty.

  Ben Hampton. Of course it was. She remembered that same scarred eyebrow raised at her over the breakfast table—a subtle mocking of the fact that while he and Mandy had been out having fun she’d been in studying. Again. They’d never been friends, never had any real meaningful conversations. Not even that last night, at another of his dad’s swanky hotels for Ben’s twenty-first birthday. She hadn’t known him and she’d never cared to. The little she’d observed of him had told her his entire personality, and from what she’d seen today he hadn’t changed. He still expected the world to bend to him and women to fall at his feet, just as he always had. And she still refused to do either. They were worlds apart—maybe even more so now than they had been at university.

  So why offer her his room? For old times’ sake?

  Not that she’d be taking him up on the offer, of course. Especially if he didn’t know who she was. Still, she had no reservations about acquiring a free drink from the exchange, while she worked on finding alternative accommodation.

  Pulling out her phone again, Luce saw she had another message. Great. She dialled her voicemail and prepared to decipher her mother’s rambling.

  ‘Lucinda? Are you there, darling? No? Are you sure?’

  A pause while Tabitha Myles waited to see if her eldest daughter was simply pretending to be an answering machine. Listening, Luce closed her eyes and shook her head a little.

  ‘Well, in that case, I suppose I should...maybe I should call back later? Except Tom did ask... You see, the thing is, darling, Tom’s decided he should spend Christmas Day with his new girlfriend. Vanessa. Did he tell you about her? She sounds delightful. She has two children, I understand, and you know how Tom loves children... Anyway, since he won’t be with us on Christmas Day we thought it might be nice to have a family dinner at the house on Christmas Eve so we can all meet Vanessa! Won’t that be lovely? I think this could be a real step forward for him...after everything. And you always say the house still belongs to all of us, really. Dolly says she’ll come too, as long as you’re making your special chocolate puddings. I told her of course you would. And you can invite that lovely man of yours along. Been ages since we saw Dennis. Anyway, so that’s that sorted. Friday evening, yes? See you then, darling. Lovely to talk to you. Bye!’

  Fantastic. It was Monday afternoon and she was stuck in Chester at the conference until Thursday morning, assuming she found somewhere to stay. What the hell was she supposed to cook that was worthy of Tom’s tentative first steps out of depression and into the world of love and went with chocolate pots for Dolly? Maybe she could amend her supermarket order if she could get online. Which just left getting the house in a state Tabitha could tolerate, explaining once again that Dennis was not her boyfriend and writing her conference report. Not to mention the completed draft she’d promised her publisher of her first book. The university did like its lecturers to publish.

  ‘Looks like I’ll be working on the train,’ she muttered to herself, tugging her organiser from her bag to start a new ‘To Do’ list. She saved Tabitha’s message and her voicemail moved swiftly onto a harried conference organiser, apologising profusely for a ‘slight confusion’ with the hotel booking arrangements. Luce could hear the poor girl’s boss yelling in the background.

  Sighing, Luce deleted the message. So, still homeless. Maybe she should call it quits and head back to Cardiff. She’d already given her lecture. And, interesting as the rest of the conference looked, it wasn’t worth going without a bed for. Except her ticket was non-refundable, and the walk-up price would be astronomical. But if it meant she could just go home it might be worth it.

  Her phone buzzed in her hand and Luce automatically swept a finger across the screen to open the e-mail. The cheery informality of Dennis’s words set her teeth on edge from the first line.

  Dr Luce! Bet you’re living it up in Chester. Don’t forget my summary on tomorrow’s lecture, will you? D.

  See? Things could be worse. Dennis could have come to Chester with her. Fortunately he was far too important and busy to spend time away from the university. That was why he sent Luce instead. Of course now she had to attend a really dull lecture on his behalf and take notes, but that was a price worth paying for his absence.

  Tossing her phone onto the table, Luce scanned the bar to see where Ben had got to with her drink. She needed to formulate a plan to get through the next week, and that would definitely be easier
with an icy G&T in her hand. Except it didn’t look as if she’d be getting it any time soon.

  At the bar, Ben Hampton had his phone clamped to his ear and was smiling at the redhead in the short skirt who’d claimed the barstool next to him. Typical. What did she expect from a man who offered to share his suite with a woman he barely knew? As if she needed further evidence that he hadn’t changed since university. His sort never did. Luce remembered well enough Mandy stomping into the flat at two in the morning, more than once, wailing about how she’d caught Ben out with another woman. Remembered the one time he’d ever shown any interest in her at all, when Mandy hadn’t been looking. Did he? she wondered. He’d been pretty drunk.

  Luce narrowed her eyes as she observed him. But then he turned, leaning against the bar behind him, and raised that scarred eyebrow at Luce instead of at the redhead. A shiver ran across her shoulders and she glanced away. She really didn’t have time for the sort of distractions Ben’s smile promised. She had responsibilities, after all. And she knew far, far better than to get involved with men like Ben Hampton. Whatever game he was playing.

  Take responsibility. Take control. She had to remember that.

  Without looking up again, Luce grabbed her organiser and started planning how to get through her week.

  * * *

  Ben ignored his brother’s voice in his ear and studied Luce instead. She was staring at her diary, where it rested on her crossed legs, and brushed an escaped strand of hair out of her eyes. Her pen was poised over the paper, but she wasn’t writing anything. She looked like a woman trying to save the world one ‘To Do’ list at a time. His initial impression had definitely been right, even if he hadn’t seen her in nearly a decade. This was a woman who needed saving from herself.

  Not my responsibility, though, he reminded himself. Not my fix this time.

  ‘So, what do you think?’ Sebastian asked down the phone. ‘Is it worth saving?’

  ‘Definitely,’ Ben answered, before realising that Seb was talking about the Royal Court Hotel, not Lucinda Myles. ‘I mean, yes—I think it’s worth working with.’ The Royal Court was a relatively new acquisition, and Ben’s job for the week was to find out how it ticked and how to make it work the Hampton & Sons way. ‘You stayed here, right? Before we bought it? I mean, you must have done.’

  ‘Dad did,’ Seb said, his voice suddenly darker. ‘I have his report, but...’

  It was hard to ask questions about the room service and the bathroom refits when the old man was six feet under, Ben supposed. ‘Right—sure. And there were concerns?’

  ‘Perhaps.’ Seb sounded exactly as their father had, whenever he hadn’t said something that mattered. Keeping information from his youngest son because he didn’t trust him to step up and do his job. To take responsibility for making things right.

  Ben had hoped Seb knew him better than their father had. Apparently not.

  Perhaps that was just what happened when you spent your childhood in different boarding schools. With five years between them, Ben had always been too far behind to catch up with his talented older brother. He’d always wondered what life had been like for Seb before he came along.

  ‘Fine. I’ll type up a new evaluation tonight and get it over to you. Okay?’ It wouldn’t take long—especially if he could get the original report e-mailed over from head office. But work responsibilities could wait until later. First he had plans. Like finding out just how strokeable Dr Lucinda Myles really was under those clothes. Because of course she’d gone on to get her PhD. The woman was born for academia.

  ‘That’d be great,’ Seb said.

  He sounded tired, and Ben could imagine him sitting behind Dad’s big oak desk, rubbing a hand over his forehead. Because now it wasn’t years and schools keeping them apart, it was the burden of responsibility.

  Working together, especially since their father had died, had enabled Ben to get to know his brother better than ever before. They were close, he supposed, in their way. Possibly because neither of them really had anyone else.

  And Seb was his brother before he was his boss. He had to remember that.

  A stab of guilt at the thought made Ben ask, ‘Is there anything else you need me to do?’

  The pause at the other end of the line suggested that there was, but whatever it was Seb obviously didn’t trust him to do it. ‘Nah, don’t worry about it. Enjoy your week in Chester. Take in a Roman relic or something. Or—no, you were planning on heading off to your cottage, weren’t you?’

  ‘I thought I might,’ Ben said cautiously. God, after the last twelve months all he wanted was to hole up in the middle of nowhere with a good bottle of whisky, some really great music and some old movies. ‘But if you need me back in the office—’

  ‘No. You haven’t had a holiday in nearly a year.’ Since before Dad died, went unspoken. ‘You deserve a break.’

  Not as much as Seb did. The idea of persuading his ultra-responsible older brother to take time off was frankly laughable, but apparently Ben wasn’t nearly as essential to the well-being of Hampton & Sons. Something he might as well take advantage of, he supposed. ‘Well, you know where I am if you need me.’

  ‘In bed with a hot blonde?’ his brother joked, a hint of the old, relaxed Seb coming out.

  Relief seeped through Ben at the sound of it. ‘Brunette, hopefully.’ Ben eyed Luce again. Still ignoring him. If she remembered him at all she probably felt exactly the same way about him as his father had—that he was still the same man she’d known him to be at twenty, incapable of growing up. Well, maybe he’d have a chance tonight to show her exactly what sort of man he’d grown into.

  Seb’s laugh lacked any real humour. ‘Then I wish you luck. I’m sure you’ll have her begging you for more in no time.’

  ‘That’s the plan.’

  ‘And then you’ll just have to figure out how to get rid of her when she inevitably loses her head over you.’

  Quite aside from the fact that Ben found it impossible to imagine Lucinda Myles losing her head over anyone, something in Seb’s words rankled.

  ‘Hey, be fair. I’m always honest with them. They know exactly what to expect. No commitment, no strings, no future, and—’

  ‘No more than one night together in a row,’ Seb finished for him. ‘I know. But they always think they’ll be the one to change you.’

  Ben shrugged, even though Seb couldn’t see him. ‘Not my responsibility. I don’t do long-term.’

  ‘Just the short-term fix.’ Seb chuckled. ‘Well, if that’s all you want enjoy yourself. I’ll see you back in London on Friday.’ He hung up.

  Ben put his brother’s mocking out of his head. As if Seb was any better, anyway. Ben couldn’t remember the last time he’d even seen him with a date.

  Life was all about priorities, their father had always said. And just because Ben had never shared David Hampton’s priorities when he was alive, and didn’t intend to start now, that didn’t make the sentiment any less valid.

  His priorities weren’t love and marriage. And his priority for the night certainly wasn’t Seb and the business. It was Luce Myles. Grabbing two gin and tonics from the bartender, Ben was pretty sure he knew exactly how to get under her skin.

  * * *

  Luce’s ‘To Do’ list was stretching to several pages by the time Ben finally returned with their drinks.

  ‘Queue at the bar?’ she asked, raising her eyebrows as he placed the glasses on the table. A girl couldn’t be expected to deal with so many demands on her without a drink.

  ‘Phone call from the office,’ he countered with an apologetic smile.

  She supposed that running a hotel chain did require some level of responsibility, hard though it was to imagine from Ben Hampton. On the other hand, he had described it as the ‘Hampton & Sons’ chain, so maybe he was just the heir apparen
t, running errands for Daddy, and the phone call was about him maxing out his company credit card. That would explain a lot, actually.

  He folded himself into the low bucket chair, his long legs stretched out in front of him, and Luce allowed herself to be distracted from how the man made a living. A more interesting question was how did he manage to look so comfortable, so relaxed, in a chair so clearly not designed for someone of his height or size? Luce couldn’t manage it, and the chair might have been made for her.

  ‘You look like you kept yourself occupied, anyway.’ He motioned at her list, and she winced.

  ‘Busy week. Time of the year.’ She started to close the cover of her organiser, but Ben’s hand slipped between the pages and pushed it open again.

  ‘Let’s see what’s keeping Dr Lucinda Myles so busy.’

  Tugging the diary towards him, he flashed her a grin that made her middle glow a little, against her better judgement. She didn’t remember him being this damn attractive. His behaviour was unacceptably intrusive, an invasion of her privacy, and her ‘To Do’ list was absolutely none of his business. And yet she didn’t stop him. All because he had a wickedly attractive smile. Clearly she was losing her edge.

  I need some time off. The thought was a familiar one, but Luce knew from past experience that nothing would come of it. Yes, some time to recharge her batteries—hell, even some time to focus on her book—would be beneficial. But when on earth would she ever find the time to make it happen?

  Ben flipped through the list and gave a low whistle. ‘Conference, followed by what I imagine to be a long and tedious conference report, family dinner party on Christmas Eve, Christmas Day entertaining, house repairs, cat-sitting for your neighbour, university New Year’s Eve event, student evaluations, your actual day job. When were you planning on sleeping?’

  ‘I wasn’t.’ Luce took a long sip of her gin and tonic. ‘Especially since I still don’t have a bed for the night.’