by Ruth Langan
When he was gone Celeste sat staring at the closed door. She couldn’t recall a single word she’d spoken. All she knew was that Drew Hampton had just walked back into her life. As casually, as callously, as he had once walked out. And all those feelings she’d worked so hard to bury had just come rushing back to taunt her.
She ought to hate him. Wanted to. But at the moment all she could think about was the way she’d felt when their hands had touched. The same jolt of electricity charging through her system with all the force of a lightning bolt. And the heat she’d experienced just looking at his mouth, remembering how it felt pressed to hers.
She shoved back her chair and got to her feet. What kind of a fool was she that she’d sit here and allow him to open up old wounds? Allow him to draw blood all over again? Drew Hampton had trampled on her heart in his haste to get to the top of the corporate ladder. She was older now. Smarter. And definitely tougher. She’d survived the pain by immersing herself in her work. That would be her salvation now. A day or two, he’d said. Fine. For the next day or two she intended to fill every hour of both day and night with hard, satisfying work. And when he left her this time, she’d have the satisfaction of telling him not to let the door hit his backside on the way out.
Drew stood back watching as Celeste moved among the tables in the courtyard, pausing to greet every guest by name. They responded with smiles and jokes and friendly remarks.
People had always been her strong suit. It was a Sullivan gift, passed down from parent to child. Maybe it was the Irish in them, he thought. The Sullivan family had never met a stranger they couldn’t charm into becoming a friend.
That first sight of her had been quite a jolt. He’d thought that he’d had plenty of time to prepare himself during the long flight from London. But nothing could prepare a man for a woman like Celeste Sullivan. He watched her with more than a trace of admiration. She was quite a package. The red hair was shorter now, chin length, tucked behind one ear. The green eyes may have been cool when they met his, but he’d been reminded of the way they could gleam like fire when she was aroused. The pale green suit was Armani, quiet, elegant, understated. But it couldn’t hide the killer body underneath. A body he’d once known as intimately as his own. Even her perfume had been the same as he’d remembered. A light floral fragrance that he could still smell in his dreams. He’d spent many a night waking in a sweat, his body yearning for hers, his lungs filled with the fragrance of wildflowers.
In the privacy of her office it had taken every ounce of self-control to keep from dragging her into his arms and covering those pouting lips with his. Even now, watching her as she talked and laughed easily with her guests, the mere sway of her hips had his throat going dry, his hands clenching into fists at his sides.
His cell phone rang. He snatched it from his inside pocket and answered it on the second ring. “Drew Hampton.”
“Andrew.”
“Mr. Van Dorn.” Drew’s tone sharpened when he recognized the voice of the chairman of the board of Van Dorn Hotels. A man who’d made it abundantly clear when he’d hired Drew that he was already scouting a successor.
Like Patrick Sullivan, Eric Van Dorn had spent a lifetime owning and operating hotels. Though the two men were friendly rivals, their attitudes about life and business were very different. Patrick Sullivan’s work was his life. Eric Van Dorn had a life apart from his work. A life that seemed to call to him more with each passing year.
“So. What do you think about the potential of our latest addition to the company?”
Drew knew he ought to be flattered that the chairman considered the deal already finalized. It was a tribute to his skill as a negotiator. But instead he felt a quick flash of annoyance. These things couldn’t be decided on a whim and a glance. “It looks interesting. But hardly a done deal. I’ll need some time to look around.”
“Don’t take too long, Andrew. I wouldn’t want this fish to wiggle off the hook.”
Drew winced. Everyone in the company knew how much the chairman loved fly-fishing. It was, in fact, the real love of his life. He yearned to retire and spend his days on a quiet wilderness lake, in pursuit of the legendary catch. Because of that fact his employees had learned to couch all their discussions in language that would appeal to him.
“Don’t you worry, Mr. Van Dorn. As soon as I figure out the best lure, I’ll reel it in for you.”
“See that you do, Andrew. Van Dorn Hotels need all the big ones they can net. And these statistics on the Old Liberty Tavern are looking better all the time.”
Drew disconnected and returned his phone to his pocket. The sound of Celeste’s laughter carried on the breeze.
What the hell had he been thinking, agreeing to come here to observe the operation? At the time it had seemed like a good idea. Now he was beginning to second-guess himself.
In today’s competitive market there were plenty of hotels and inns that were going under, and could be bought for a bargain. This wasn’t the only one his company had an interest in. But the fact that it was showing such a marked profit when, just a year ago it was failing, had moved it to the top of the company’s wish list.
When Drew had realized that Celeste was the one responsible for its success, he’d been instantly attracted. And when the board of directors asked him to handle this fact-finding mission, he’d been more than ready.
Now they’d expect a miracle. And, he thought watching Celeste shaking hands with the officers of the Rotary Club, that’s probably what it would take for him to make a deal here.
He might be able to persuade the board of Sullivan Hotels to sell at a profit. After all, a year ago they’d been ready to bail out of a sinking ship. But that was before Celeste had stepped in and pumped up the business. He’d seen the way she’d looked when she’d learned that her grandfather had already approved the first step in this buy-out. It had been more than professional competitiveness that had flared darkly in her eyes. She’d been personally offended. And more wounded than she’d wanted to let on.
With Celeste, he realized, this wasn’t just about business. Knowing how she operated, he’d be willing to bet that she’d been pouring her heart and soul into this operation. Eating and sleeping cost-control and profit-and-loss figures. She’d probably put her life on hold just to make this place a success. And now, he was threatening to buy it out from under her.
No, he thought. With Celeste, it wasn’t about business. Especially now that she’d met the competition. Seeing him here had made it much more personal.
But then, hadn’t it been the same for him? The minute he’d seen her name in the financial records, he’d known that this was where he wanted to be.
He stopped beside a lovely fountain and, with his hands linked behind his back, stared down into the falling water as though searching for something in its depths. It was time for a little honesty. Though he may have fooled himself into thinking so in the beginning, it was no longer honest to suggest, even to himself, that he was merely here on business. He’d come to Liberty for something much deeper. Something infinitely more important than making another score in the world of hotel finance.
He and Celeste had parted badly. His fault, he knew. That knowledge still rubbed his heart raw. He intended to use this opportunity to finish what they’d started a long time ago.
One way or another.
Chapter 2
“Ms. Sullivan.”
Celeste held the cell phone to her ear as she continued across the courtyard. “Yes, Daniel.” She smiled at several of her employees while she listened attentively to the voice of her assistant.
“You asked me to let you know when the representative from the linen service arrived. He’s here in your office.”
“Thanks, Daniel. I’ll be right there.” She tucked the phone into her pocket and started toward the executive offices, pausing now and then to speak to the wait staff cleaning up from the noon luncheon.
All morning she’d been achingly aware of Drew dogging he
r footsteps. Like a shadow, he’d said. But it felt more like a burr. One that stuck to her skin. Not enough to be painful, but just enough to be exceedingly uncomfortable.
It had been a struggle to ignore the prickling along her spine that signaled his presence directly behind her. But it had spurred her on to lose herself even more completely in her work. In the four hours since she’d left her office, she hadn’t once paused for breath.
But that didn’t mean that she had managed to forget him for even a moment.
When she passed the front desk she saw Jeremiah Cross assisting an elderly woman with her luggage. She felt a flash of alarm. At his age, such work could be dangerous. Still, she knew better than to suggest such a thing to him. Instead she stepped behind the desk and peered into the back room, where two college students, working as bellmen for the summer, were on their lunch break.
The taller of the two looked up. “Did you need something, Ms. Sullivan?”
She nodded and said quietly, “Jeremiah needs some help.”
The two set aside their sandwiches and sodas and hurried out front to lend a hand. As Celeste continued on toward her office, she saw with satisfaction that the young men were hauling the suitcases, while Jeremiah was free to escort their guest into the elevator.
Behind her Drew merely smiled. Leave it to Celeste to handle delicate matters with diplomacy. The old man wouldn’t even notice that she’d intervened.
She stepped into her office and Daniel got to his feet. “I asked the gentleman from the linen service to wait in your office. His name is Frank Cormeyer.”
“Thank you, Daniel. Will you take a message to our young bellmen, please. From now on, I want one of them on duty at all times. They’re not to take their breaks together.”
She said this in the same conversational tone she always used. And yet her assistant noted the thread of steel beneath the words.
He nodded. “I’ll see to it right away.”
Celeste opened the door to her inner office and stepped inside. And though it would have given her immense pleasure to close the door in Drew’s face, she knew she had to honor her grandfather’s word and permit him entry into every phase of her operation.
“Mr. Cormeyer?” She watched as a burly man with graying hair and the face of a boxer, with a flattened nose and a long, thin scar beneath his left eye, lumbered to his feet and towered over her.
“That’s right.” He looked from her to the man who entered behind her. “I was told to wait in here to meet with the boss. I guess that’d be you.”
Drew shook his head. “You’d guess wrong. I’m just a visitor. Ms. Sullivan is the boss here.”
“Celeste Sullivan.” She offered her hand.
The man swallowed back his surprise and returned her handshake.
“Now, Mr. Cormeyer.” She rounded the desk and sat facing him. “We signed a contract with your company in good faith. You promised to deliver clean linen to our inn between the hours of nine and eleven every day except Sunday.”
He nodded. “I explained to the head of your housekeeping department. Our trucks had a few breakdowns.”
“A few? In the last thirty days, your truck has been late seventeen times. That’s seventeen days that our household staff was late making up rooms for incoming guests.”
“Look. We supply a lot of businesses. You act like you’re the only one we have to worry about.” He shrugged. “What’s a couple of hours here and there?”
“I’ll tell you what a couple of hours mean to a business like ours, Mr. Cormeyer. First and foremost, unhappy guests who won’t choose to stay at the Old Liberty Tavern next time they’re in town, because when they checked in, they found the bed unmade, the bath linens soiled. And then there’s the matter of overtime for the household staff forced to stay late in order to finish their chores. Every time your linen service is late, you’re costing me time and money.”
“I’ll talk to our drivers.”
She steepled her hands and studied him across the desk. “That would be wise, Mr. Cormeyer. You see I spoke with our legal firm this morning and they have informed your company in writing that one more late delivery will find you in violation of your contract. It will result in immediate termination.”
He leaned forward, wearing a scowl guaranteed to freeze the heart of anyone foolish enough to oppose him. “Look, missy. Don’t try cutting off your nose to spite your face. If you terminate our contract, what’ll you do for linen for this place?”
She kept her tone even, her smile in place. “I met with two of your competitors yesterday. Both of them agreed to meet or beat your price, and gave me a guarantee of early-morning delivery.” She glanced at her watch. “You might want to wait at the rear loading dock for your driver. He’s now overdue by more than two hours. I left word with my housekeeping staff not to accept delivery until you had a chance to speak with him.”
The man’s face was suffused with color as he shuffled to his feet. If he’d thought to frighten this small, elegant female with his back-alley manners, she’d called his bluff. “I’ll speak with him. He won’t be late again.”
She stood as well. “Thank you, Mr. Cormeyer. I appreciate that.”
When the door closed behind him, Drew saw the way she took in one long, slow breath before sinking back down to her chair.
He felt a wave of admiration for the way in which she’d handled the situation.
Without a word he let himself out of her office, allowing her some much-deserved privacy.
“Thanks, Daniel.” Celeste handed her assistant a pile of documents bearing her signature. “I think that’s the last of the correspondence. At least for now.”
As he was walking out of her office, Drew appeared, carrying a linen-covered tray.
She looked up in annoyance. “What’s this?”
“Lunch.” He set it in the center of her desk and lifted the linen napkin to reveal a large salad and a basket of crusty dinner rolls, accompanied by a pot of tea and two cups. “I spoke with your cook, Marcus, and he said you haven’t taken time for breakfast or lunch in weeks.”
“How would he know? Maybe I eat in the privacy of my room.”
“Yeah. And maybe you’re cooking on a hot plate. We both know how much you love cooking for yourself.” He grinned and began arranging the salad in two crystal bowls. Then he drew a chair beside hers and handed her a cruet of olive oil and red wine vinegar.
She stared down at the salad of tomatoes and onions drizzled with Gorgonzola cheese. “I haven’t tasted this since…”
“Rome,” he finished for her.
“That’s right. That little inn.” She saw him looking at her and ducked her head. But after one bite, she couldn’t hide her pleasure. “Oh, this is wonderful. I didn’t know Marcus even had this recipe.”
“He didn’t. I made it.”
“You did?” She took another bite before breaking a roll and handing him half.
Their fingers brushed. This time, instead of being annoyed, she found the rush of heat pleasantly soothing. Like a half-remembered dream.
It wasn’t that she was softening her attitude about Drew. It was merely the presence of food. And not just any food.
“I didn’t know you liked to cook.”
“One of my many newly acquired talents. It was either that, or starve when I found myself in a little out-of-the-way inn with no room service.” He dipped the roll into a mixture of olive oil and vinegar, with a sprinkling of parmesan cheese, and held it to her mouth.
She had no choice but to taste. This time, when his fingers brushed her lips, the heat was stronger, the feelings much more than merely pleasant. She struggled to push them aside.
“Umm. That’s delicious. Where did you find this?”
“I first tasted it on a little Mediterranean island.” He leaned close and lowered his voice to a whisper. “If you’d like, I’ll trust your cook with the secret ingredients.”
She couldn’t help laughing. “That’s the same thing the cook
in that little inn in Rome said to you.”
He smiled, pleased that she hadn’t forgotten. “No. What he said was he’d trust me with the recipe because I was with the most beautiful woman who had ever graced his dining room. If you recall, he kissed his fingers to his lips and called you sheer perfection.”
Remembering, Celeste blushed. “And then he brought us a bottle of his best wine and asked if we would share it with him.”
“I don’t think he cared whether or not I drank any.” Drew chuckled. “In fact, he was hoping I’d get lost so he could have you all to himself.”
“Not at all, Drew. Don’t you remember?” She touched a hand to his arm, then just as quickly withdrew it. But not before she saw his eyes narrow slightly. “He…” She fought to keep her voice steady. “He enjoyed your company. What’s more, he shared his secret recipe with you. And you have to admit he was a terrific cook.”
“Yes, he was.” Drew poured tea and placed a steaming cup in front of her. “He was also a shameless flirt.”
Celeste looked down and was surprised to see that she’d finished every bite of her salad and roll. As she sipped her tea it occurred to her that she felt better than she had in hours.
Drew had always had a sixth sense about her, knowing when she needed a break to eat, to rest, to marshal her energy for the job at hand. It had been one of the things she’d loved about being with him. After they’d gone their separate ways, she’d missed that more than she’d cared to admit.
When her phone rang, she reluctantly turned away to answer it. “Yes, Daniel. That’s fine. I’ll take his call. And tell legal to fax those documents. I’ll get back with them as soon as I’ve had time to read through them.”
