by Lulu Taylor
‘So, what brings you to LA?’ Will asked, and Xander started out on the story they’d prepared to explain how they came to be here, at a complete loose end and keen to catch up with his old friend Will Dangerfield.
Coco sat quietly and listened, thinking the whole thing sounded ridiculously transparent, but Will seemed to accept it easily enough as he sat there, lazily hunched over in what was, to Coco, an incredibly sexy way.
This wasn’t supposed to happen, she thought, suddenly frightened. I wasn’t supposed to fancy him. But … I do.
She hadn’t felt like this since Jamal. In fact, she couldn’t remember ever feeling exactly like this – as though a huge, unknown part of her had suddenly come alive and begun to possess her.
‘Where are you staying?’ Will asked.
Xander told him about the hotel, playing up some minor irritations and then shrugging and saying, ‘But, you know, it’ll do. I mean, it’s OK. We can always find another if we don’t like it.’
‘Don’t be silly,’ Will said, just as Xander had planned. ‘You can come and stay here for a few days if you want. I’ve got loads of room.’
‘Hey, we couldn’t impose on you like that.’
‘It’s no problem, really. My girlfriend’s away, it’s just me here. You can treat the place as your own.’
Girlfriend? Coco thought with a downward swoop of her stomach. Then she heard ‘it’s just me here’ and something else sparked inside her. ‘That’s so kind of you,’ she said. ‘We’d love it, wouldn’t we, Xander? As long as you’re sure?’
Will glanced over at her and smiled. ‘Of course I’m sure. Come this afternoon.’
Holy crap, Coco thought, clutching her glass even more tightly, her groin fizzing in response to the smile. This is about to get much more complicated than I expected.
53
THE NEW CRAVEN hotels were almost ready to be launched. Daisy had to put her anxieties to one side while she concentrated on getting everything in shape in exactly the way she wanted. The tours for John Montgomery and other Craven directors went very well; they were unanimous in their praise of what she’d done, and the excellent budgeting that had made the whole thing as sleek and streamlined as possible.
Daisy was most delighted that she had managed to snare a well-known model, convincing her to have her wedding day at Tilly’s Hall, one of the chain’s hotels, by offering everything at a substantial discount. The model had got a wonderful magazine deal too, and while she was probably going to be in profit by the end of her big day, Daisy was going to get acres of coverage for the hotel and the Craven name.
‘Congratulations,’ John said warmly when she’d finished telling him. They were in his office, going over the last details. ‘You’re a natural at this, Daphne.
Anyone would think you have hotels in your blood. Well done.’
‘Thanks, John,’ she said. ‘Do you know yet who’s coming to the launch party at the Grey House? Everyone from here is coming, along with our best clients and suppliers and so on, but I wondered …’
‘If anyone was coming from HQ?’ John finished, smiling. ‘Of course. You want the big bosses to see the scope of your achievement. Perfectly understandable. In fact, I’ve just heard that two directors are coming – Karen O’Malley and Darley Ross. Ross is MD of the entire hotels and leisure division, so it’s a real feather in your cap to get him.’
‘That’s great,’ exclaimed Daisy, flushing with pleasure. ‘I’m so pleased.’
‘I’ll make sure he knows the extent of your input,’ John said, a knowing look in his eyes. ‘I promise.’
Daisy stayed up late into the night, exploring as many avenues as she could find, going to wherever the internet was able to lead her.
Darley Ross was her main focus. He was definitely next in her sights. If she wanted to get to the very top, then he was the man she needed to help her get there. It was odd to think that she would simply have been catapulted in, probably as Ross’s superior, if she’d stayed in her old life. She’d have emerged from university and business school with all her degrees and diplomas, and started at the top. But, she told herself, it was better this way. Now she truly knew how hotels worked from the inside out. She’d been a chambermaid, scrubbed lavatories and changed beds. She’d overseen one small place and learned all the pitfalls and dangers. No number of degrees could have given her that wealth of practical experience and the invaluable knowledge she’d gained from the Excalibur.
Ross’s photograph was on the company website – the standard black-and-white shot of a director, three-quarters on, with a smile that wasn’t too broad. He appeared ordinary enough, a man in his fifties with salt-and-pepper hair cut close to his skull. He wasn’t fat but a meaty look around the shoulders showed he might be if he was not careful. His short bio contained nothing but the usual bland information, but Daisy was certain that he was the key.
‘Let’s see, Mr Ross,’ she said, as she began to run various internet searches. ‘Let’s see what I can find out about you …’
A few hours later, she knew a great deal more about Mr Darley Ross than he could possibly have guessed – or wanted.
The Grey House looked wonderful, the perfect Cotswolds country retreat. Swags of late-flowering roses nodded around windows and doors, the grey stone walls were mellow and warm, and the salvaged antique fountain playing at the front looked as though it had been there for centuries. Outside, the gardens were in the last weeks of their summer display but they still looked fragrant and welcoming, lit by hundreds of small lanterns that would glow even more golden as the light diminished. Waiting staff moved smoothly among the guests, distributing champagne and canapés.
Daisy had dressed carefully for the occasion in a short Oscar de la Renta cocktail dress in nude-coloured silk with a black silk crocheted overdress; it was important to make sure she looked just right for this. Young but not inexperienced or naive; smart and sophisticated but definitely not tarty or frivolous. She made sure the whole thing was demure with a pair of black heels that didn’t demand too much attention. She mingled, spending plenty of time chatting to her suppliers and those she wished to keep sweet, but also keeping an eye out for the people who really mattered: the Dangerfield directors.
The dear little Excalibur hotel was one of the most minor items in Craven’s portfolio – which was precisely why she had chosen it as her launchpad. And Craven was a small holding within the much greater Dangerfield property and leisure group.
All roads lead to Rome, Daisy thought to herself. Ah, there’s John – and he’s talking to Karen O’Malley, if I remember her picture from the company site correctly. And that grey speckled head I can see must belong to Darley Ross …
She excused herself from the small circle she was talking to and made her way through the crowd, smiling at people she knew but not stopping until she had reached John’s side.
‘Ah, Daphne, just the person,’ he said jovially, waving his glass of wine in her direction as she approached. ‘Come and meet the people from Dangerfield, they’re very keen to make your acquaintance.’ He gestured to the woman on his left, smart in a black dress and towering heels. She was in her forties, chic and youthful-looking with brown hair swept back off her face. ‘Karen O’Malley.’
‘Hello,’ Daisy said.
Karen smiled. ‘Good to meet you. John is clearly a big fan of yours.’
‘And,’ he went on, ‘this is Darley Ross, the MD. We’re delighted to have you here, Darley.’
Daisy inspected the director’s face curiously as he replied, ‘Not at all, John. Always good to see how things are developing.’ He was pudgier in the face than she’d expected, and a little piggier about the eyes. He doesn’t look all that trustworthy, she thought. Surprise, surprise. He glanced at her. ‘So you’re the bright young thing we’ve been hearing about?’ He nodded over his shoulder towards the hotel. ‘Most impressive. I like what you’ve done very much.’
‘I’m so pleased,’ she returned, hoping she was str
iking the right note of confidence mixed with modesty. ‘I’ve loved every moment.’ She gave him a beaming smile. He needed to like her. Trust her. It was time to turn on the charm.
Two and a half hours later, Darley Ross was very well oiled, having chucked back glass after glass of the champagne the waiters brought round. His voice had grown progressively louder as the evening went on, and the others had floated away from him, leaving Daisy to keep him company. Darley was explaining how well his division was doing and how brilliantly the Dangerfield group was performing overall, with its many worldwide projects and investments.
Daisy listened, smiling, agreeing, flattering and drawing him out as much as possible. She’d already noticed an appreciative look in Darley’s increasingly bloodshot eyes and, while she tried to make sure that she wasn’t in the least flirtatious, she hoped he wouldn’t get the wrong idea. That could complicate things a little.
I think now could be the right time to set the ball rolling she thought, as Darley drained his latest glass. She smiled, put her head on one side and said innocently, ‘But tell me about your Scottish leisure project. I hear it’s going to be magnificent. A huge luxury golf resort in some amazing countryside. Wow.’
Darley paused for a moment, inspecting the interior of his glass, his face red from the effects of the champagne. ‘Yes, that’s right. One of our biggest and most exciting projects.’
‘But … you’ve run into some problems, haven’t you? With your land acquisition?’
Darley stiffened, then frowned. ‘What do you know about that?’
‘I read the plans and projections for it in the Craven files – John had been copied in.’ She adopted a puzzled expression. ‘But when I did a little further research, I discovered that you’ve got a proverbial spanner in the works. Your date for commencement of works has already passed, hasn’t it?’
A succession of expressions flickered over Darley’s face. Then he looked her directly in the eyes and said, ‘Yes. It’s true. I can’t deny that I’ve been trying to keep the lid on this one. We’re in a bit of a pickle, if I’m honest.’
‘I believe you’ve got a particularly tenacious opponent.’
Darley sighed. ‘You clearly already know, but yes … it’s all down to some bloody fisherman. We’ve already got a huge tract of land and all the various permissions and what have you. Cost a fortune in greasing palms and buying up properties. We offered very generous purchase prices to all the residents and most of ’em snapped our hands off. Couldn’t wait to take the Dangerfield dosh and fuck off out of there.’ His tongue was obviously well loosened. Daisy had a feeling he would certainly not be telling her these things if he were sober. ‘It’s a bloody dump. Back of beyond. Nothing but sand dunes and seagulls and grass for miles on end. Beautiful, I suppose, if you like that kind of thing. But …’
Darley leaned in towards her to confide, his breath sour with alcohol, ‘There’s this one bastard who wants to fuck the whole thing up. He’s got a cottage and a bit of land slap-bang in the middle of our plot, sitting between where the main hotel will be and access to the links. He’s a birdwatcher or a nature lover or some such. And he won’t sell. Damn him!’
Suddenly Darley leaned back and began to roar with laughter. ‘I’ve half a mind just to go up there and shoot him, have it over with,’ he spluttered. Then he stopped laughing abruptly, a fierce and furious expression on his face. ‘Who the fuck does that fucker think he is?’ he hissed. ‘He’s fucking me over so badly …’ He shook his head, his face now crimson. ‘He’s ruining my whole fucking life, if you must know.’ His lips tightened and he seemed to be trying to control himself. He glanced up at Daisy as if realising suddenly that she was listening intently. ‘I shouldn’t say all this,’ he muttered, looking away.
‘It sounds like you’re in a big trouble,’ she said soothingly. ‘Perhaps I could help.’
Darley snorted. ‘That’s nice of you – but how?’
She gave him a long measured stare. ‘I get the feeling that this might be a little worse than you’re actually letting on.’
He gaped at her.
‘In fact, I think it might be a very great deal worse.’ She smiled at him. Now she was ready to play her cards. ‘Why don’t I come and see you in London, and we can discuss it then?’
He continued to stare at her, astonished.
‘Good. I’ll be in touch and we can meet next week. Now, Darley, shall we go and join the others?’
54
XANDER WAS COCK-A-HOOP after their easy success.
‘What did I tell you?’ he crowed as they drove back to the Ritz-Carlton to get their belongings. ‘Easy as pie! This is going to be great. I’d forgotten how much I liked old Will.’ He looked sober for a moment as he remembered that their purpose was to betray his friend, then said, ‘He won’t care what we’re up to. He won’t tell us anything useful anyway. It’s not in his nature. We’ll have a great time with him, report back that we couldn’t get him to spill the beans, and voilà. Job done.’
‘Yeah, I guess so,’ Coco said, watching the wide boulevards slide past the car window. She was in turmoil and could only hope that she was managing to hide the fact successfully. Her reaction to Will had taken her completely by surprise, and now she was aware of a geyser of excitement building up inside her at the thought of being near him for the next few days at least. But she also knew that she was there for one reason only: to get information. She couldn’t forget that for one second, or she wouldn’t be receiving any of the money left on her contract with the Dangerfields.
They packed quickly. Coco fired up the tiny but powerful laptop she’d been given by Margaret, logged in to the hotel internet and sent off a quick email reporting what had happened so far. Then they checked out and headed back towards Will’s mansion, this time to stay.
Will was shut away in his office when they returned, and the maid, Maria, explained that he would be working until the evening. He had left instructions that they were to be given anything they wanted, and the place was theirs to roam about as they wanted. Would they like to see their rooms?
Yes, they would. Maria led them out of the main house to a series of low, connected guest cottages that lined one side of the garden near the pool. They’d been assigned one each. Coco went into hers: it was delightfully cool inside and as stylishly modern as she’d expected. It was a kind of large bed-sitting room, fully equipped with TV and stereo equipment, and next to it was a bathroom almost as large as the main room itself. There was no kitchen or way of making coffee, though a fridge hidden in a white lacquer cabinet held water, fruit juice and Diet Coke.
‘There is the phone,’ Maria said, pointing to the handset resting by the bed. ‘Anything you want, dial the kitchen and it will be brought out to you.’
‘Thanks, Maria.’ She flopped down on the bed as the maid led Xander next door to show him his quarters. This was wonderful: privacy, a place she could retreat to, though she felt a flicker of disappointment that she wasn’t going to be in the main house with Will. Did this mean he was keeping a distance between them?
Don’t let your fucking imagination run away with you, she scolded herself. He’s only known you five minutes. What did you expect? And he’s got a girlfriend.
But had he felt the same crackle of electricity when they’d met? Was it possible for only one person to feel that kind of instant attraction, that almost irresistible pull towards someone else? Surely it had to work two ways, or what was the point of it? The world was full of people who left Coco cold, so when she met a guy who provoked that kind of reaction in her … well, it had to be that their chemicals matched, fired off one another or however it worked.
She shivered with pleasure, thinking about him. Those arms! That chest … that easy way he moved. He was so comfortable in his own skin. She just knew he would smell good, too. She imagined running her lips along his neck, kissing that warm skin lightly as she went.
Her hands went to her chest and almost unconsciously she ran
them across her breasts, where her nipples were already hard and sensitive. A ripple of desire travelled down her belly to her groin and she felt herself twitch and grow warm there. She sighed. This was longing like she hadn’t felt for a very long time. One hand dropped down her stomach to her mound and touched it gently. She hadn’t used her fingers on herself for ages. It was as though that part of her had been hibernating, and now she’d been awakened and was buzzing with pent-up need. She slid one finger down inside her jeans and under the flimsy silk of her panties. She ran it across the small thatch and over the nub of her clit which was already standing proud. It tingled to the soft touch, eager for more. She stroked her fingertip across it again and thought about Will sitting on the terrace, bending forward so that the neck of his tee-shirt gaped open, giving a glimpse of his skin beneath …
‘Oh,’ she sighed quietly.
Just then, the door to her cottage burst open and Xander came in. Coco whipped her hand out of her jeans and said crossly, ‘Can’t you knock?’
He came over, oblivious to what she’d been up to. ‘Sorry, sweetie, were you trying to sleep? What shall we do? Let’s go for an explore. I want to see all the goodies on offer.’
‘OK,’ Coco said, getting up, shaking off her arousal. ‘Let’s have a look around.’
They wandered about the house and grounds, taking everything in. For Coco, the sheer scale of everything was what amazed her most. The rooms were so large. There was so much space everywhere. The garages were big enough for six cars with plenty of room to spare, as well as worktables and storage for bicycles and a stunning Harley Davidson motorbike.
‘Look, a Porsche, a Lamborghini, a Maserati …’ Xander wandered around Will’s car collection, stroking them lovingly, while Coco headed back out to the sunshine. She wasn’t very interested in cars, although even she could tell that these were beauties.
