by Maggie Cox
Regarding the ticket she’d lost, she’d told him that her father had sent it to her. Was he a wealthy man? Surely he must be. If that was the case then the pretty Natalie must have been used to a certain level of comfort before her parents had divorced. Would she be holding out for someone equally wealthy—if not more so—in a relationship?
Frowning, Ludo quickly decided it would make sense to ask for her phone number if he wanted to see her again, rather than give her his address. That way he would be the one in control of the situation, and if he should glean at any time that she was a gold-digger then he would drop her like a hot potato. Meanwhile, they could meet up for a drink while she was in London under the perfectly legitimate excuse of his allowing her to settle her debt. If after that things progressed satisfactorily between them, then Ludo would be only too happy to supply more personal information, such as his full address.
Feeling satisfied with his decision, he exhaled a sigh, briefly tunnelled his fingers through his floppily perfect hair, and slipped his mobile into the silk-lined pocket of his jacket. Before depressing the button that opened the automatic doors into the first-class compartment he stole a surreptitious glance through the glass at the slender, doe-eyed brunette who was gazing out of the window with her chin in her hand, as if daydreaming. His lips automatically curved into a smile. He couldn’t help anticipating her willing agreement to meet up with him for a date. What reason could she possibly have not to?
‘I don’t understand. You’re saying you want to meet me for a drink?’
Blinking in disbelief at the imposing Adonis who was surveying her with a wry twist of his carved lips as they stood together on the busy station platform, Natalie convinced herself she must have become hard of hearing. Ludo’s surprising suggestion sounded very much as if he was inviting her out on a date. But why on earth would he do such a thing? It just didn’t make sense. Perhaps she’d simply got the wrong end of the stick.
Practically every other woman who’d disembarked from the train was stealing covetous glances over her shoulder at the handsome and stylishly dressed man standing in front of her as she hurried by, she noticed. No doubt they were privately wondering why a girl as unremarkable as herself should capture his attention for so much as a second. Her heart skipped one or two anxious beats.
‘Yes, I do,’ he replied.
His jaw firmed and his blue eyes shimmered enigmatically. For Natalie, meeting such an arresting glance was like standing in the eye of a sultry tropical storm—it shook her as the wind shook a fragile sapling, threatening to uproot it. She held her voluminous red leather bag over her chest, as though it were some kind of protective shield, and couldn’t help frowning. Instead of sending her self-esteem soaring, Ludo’s suggestion that they meet up for a drink had had the opposite effect on her confidence. It hardly helped that in faded jeans and a floral print gypsy-style blouse she felt singularly dowdy next to him in his expensive Italian tailoring.
‘Why?’ she asked. ‘I only asked for your address so that I can send you the money for my train fare. You’ve already indicated that you’re a very busy man, so why would you go to all the trouble of meeting up with me instead of simply letting me post you a cheque?’
Her companion shook his head bemusedly, as if he couldn’t fathom what must be, to him, a very untypical response. Natalie guessed he wasn’t used to women turning him down for anything.
‘Aside from allowing you to personally pay me back for the ticket, I’d like to see you again, Natalie,’ he stated seriously. ‘Did such a possibility not occur to you? After all, you indicated to me on the train that you were a free agent … remember?’
Unfortunately, she had. She’d confessed she didn’t have a boyfriend when Ludo had assumed that if she had he must be too polite to tell her that she snored in her sleep. She blushed so hard at the memory that her delicate skin felt as if she stood bare inches from a roaring fire.
Adjusting her bag, she endeavoured to meet the steady, unwavering gaze that was so uncomfortably searing her. ‘Are you a free agent?’ she challenged. ‘For all I know you could be married with six children.’
He tipped back his head and released a short, heartfelt laugh. Never before had the sound of a man’s amusement brushed so sensually over her nerve-endings—as though he had stroked down her bare skin with the softest, most delicate feather. Out of the blue, a powerful ache to see him again infiltrated her blood and wouldn’t be ignored … even if he did inhabit an entirely different stratosphere from her.
‘I can assure you that I am neither married nor the father of six children. I told you before that I’ve been far too busy for that. Don’t you believe me?’
Ludo’s expression had become serious once more. Conscious of the now diminishing crowd leaving the train, and realising with relief that they were no longer the focus of unwanted interest, Natalie shrugged.
‘All I’ll say is that I hope you’re telling me the truth. Honesty is really important to me. All right, then. When do you want us to meet?’
‘How long do you think you’ll be in London?’
‘Probably a couple of days at most … that is unless my dad needs me around for longer.’ Once again she was unable to control the tremor of fear in her voice at the thought that her father might be seriously ill. To stop from dwelling on the subject, and to prevent any uncomfortable quizzing from Ludo, she smiled and added quickly, ‘I’ll just have to wait and see, won’t I?’
‘If you are only going to be staying in town for a couple of days, that doesn’t give us very much time. That being the case, I think we should meet up tomorrow evening, don’t you?’ There was an unexpected glint of satisfied expectation in his eyes. ‘I can book us a table at Claridges. What time would suit you best?’
‘The restaurant, you mean? I thought you said we were only meeting for a drink?’
‘Don’t you eat in the evenings?’
‘Of course, but—’
‘What time?’
‘Eight o’clock?’
‘Eight o’clock it is, then. Let me have your mobile number so I can ring you if I’m going to be delayed.’
Her brow puckering, Natalie was thoughtful. ‘Okay, I’ll give it to you. But don’t forget it might be me who’s delayed or can’t make it if my dad isn’t well … in which case you’d better let me have your number.’
With another one of his enigmatic smiles, Ludo acquiesced unhesitatingly.
She’d never got used to a doorman letting her into the rather grand Victorian building where her father’s luxurious flat was situated. It made her feel like an audacious usurper pretending to be someone important.
The contrast between how her parents lived was like night and day. Her mother was a conscientious and devoted home-maker who enjoyed the simple and natural things in life, while her father was a real hedonist who loved material things perhaps a little too much. Although undoubtedly hard-working, he had a tendency to be quite reckless with his money.
Now, as she found herself travelling up to the topmost floor in the lift, Natalie refused to dwell on that. Instead she found herself growing more and more uneasy at what he might be going to tell her.
When Bill Carr opened the door to greet her, straight away his appearance seemed to confirm her worst suspicions. She was shocked at how much he’d aged since she’d last seen him. It had only been three months, but the change in him was so marked it might as well have been three years. He was a tall, handsome, distinguished-looking man, with a penchant for traditionally tailored Savile Row suits, and his still abundant silver-grey hair was always impeccably cut and styled … but not today. Today it was messy and in dire need of attention. His white shirt was crumpled and unironed and his pinstriped trousers looked as if he’d slept in them.
With alarm Natalie noticed that he carried a crystal tumbler that appeared to have a generous amount of whisky in it. The reek of alcohol when he opened his mouth to greet her confirmed it.
‘Natalie! Thank God you’re
here, sweetheart. I was going out of my mind, thinking that you weren’t going to come.’
He flung an arm round her and pulled her head down onto his chest. Natalie dropped her bag to the ground and did her utmost to relax. Instinct told her that whatever had made her father seek solace in strong drink must be more serious than she’d thought.
Lifting her head she endeavoured to make her smile reassuring. ‘I’d never have let you down, Dad.’ Reaching up, she planted an affectionate kiss on his unshaven cheek as the faintest whiff of his favourite aftershave mingled with the incongruous and far less appealing smell of whisky.
‘Did you have a good journey?’ he asked, reaching over her shoulder to push the door shut behind her.
‘I did, thanks. It was really nice to travel first class, but you shouldn’t have gone to such unnecessary expense, Dad.’
Even as she spoke Natalie couldn’t help but recall her meeting with Ludo, and the fact that he’d stumped up the money for her ticket when he’d heard her explain to the guard that she’d lost hers. His name was short for Ludovic, he’d told her. For a few seconds she lost herself in a helpless delicious reverie. The name was perfect. She really liked it … she liked it a lot. There was an air of mystery about the sound of it … a bit like its owner. They hadn’t exchanged surnames but every second of their time together on the train was indelibly imprinted on her mind, never to be forgotten. Particularly his cultured, sexy voice and those extraordinarily beautiful sapphire-blue eyes of his. Her heart jumped when she nervously recalled her agreement to meet him for dinner tomorrow …
‘I’ve always wanted to give you the best of everything, sweetheart … and that didn’t change when your mother and I split up. Is she well, by the way?’
Her father’s curiously intense expression catapulted her back to the present, and Natalie saw the pain that he still carried over the break-up with his wife. Her mouth dried uncomfortably as she privately empathised with the loss that clearly still haunted him.
‘Yes, she’s very well. She asked me to tell you that she hopes you’re doing well too.’
He grimaced and shrugged. ‘She’s a good woman, your mother. The best woman I ever knew. It’s a crying shame I didn’t appreciate her more when we were together. As to your comment that she hopes I’m doing well … It near kills me to have to admit this, darling, but I’m afraid I’m not doing very well at all. Come into the kitchen and let me get you a cup of tea, then I’ll explain what’s been going on.’
The admission confirmed her increasingly anxious suspicions, but it still tore at Natalie’s insides to hear him say it. Feeling suddenly drained, she followed his tall, rangy frame into his modern stainless-steel kitchen, watched him accidentally splash water over his crumpled sleeve as he filled the kettle at the tap—was she imagining it, or was his hand shaking a little?—and plugged it into the wall socket. He collected his whisky glass before dropping wearily down onto a nearby stool.
‘What is it, Dad? Have you been having pains in your chest again? Is that why you wanted to see me so urgently? Please tell me.’
Her father imbibed a generous slug of whisky, then slammed his glass noisily back down on the counter, rubbing the back of his hand across his eyes. Communication was suspended for several disturbing moments as he looked to be struggling to gather his thoughts. ‘For once it’s not my health that’s at stake, here, Nat. It’s my livelihood.’ His mouth shaped a rueful grimace.
Outside, from the busy street below, came the jarring sound of a car horn honking. Natalie flinched in shock. Drawing in a steadying breath, she saw that her dad was perfectly serious in his confession.
‘Has something gone wrong with the business? Is it to do with a downturn in profits? I know the country’s going through a tough time economically at the moment, but you can weather the storm, Dad … you always do.’
Bill Carr looked grim. ‘The hotel chain hasn’t made any profit for nearly two years, my love … largely because I haven’t kept up with essential refurbishment and modernisation. And I can no longer afford to keep on staff of the calibre that helped make it such a success in the first place. It’s so like you to blame it on the economy, but that just isn’t the case.’
‘Then if it’s not that why can’t you afford to modernise or keep good staff? You’ve always told me that the business has made you a fortune.’
‘That’s perfectly true. It did make a fortune. But sadly I haven’t been able to hold on to it. I’ve lost almost everything, Natalie … and I’m afraid I’m being forced to sell the business at a loss to try and recoup some money and pay off the vast amount of debt I’ve accrued.’
Natalie’s insides lurched as though she’d just narrowly escaped plunging down a disused elevator shaft. ‘It’s really that bad?’ she murmured, hardly knowing what to say.
Her father pushed to his feet, despondently shaking his head. ‘I’ve made such a mess of my life,’ he told her, ‘and I suppose because I’ve been so reckless and irresponsible the chickens have come home to roost, as they say. I deserve it. I was blessed with everything a man could wish for—a beautiful wife, a lovely daughter and work that I loved … But I threw it all away because I became more interested in seeking pleasure than keeping a proper eye on the business.’
‘You mean women and drink?’
‘And the rest. It’s not hard to understand why I had a heart attack.’
Needing to offer him some comfort and reassurance, even though she was shocked and slightly dazed at what ‘the rest’ might refer to, Natalie urgently caught hold of his hand and folded it between her own.
‘That doesn’t mean you’re going to have another one, Dad. Things will get better, I promise you. First of all, you’ve got to stop blaming yourself for what you did in the past and forgive yourself. Then you have to vow that you won’t hurt yourself in that way ever again—that you’ll look after yourself, move on, and deal with what’s going on right now. You said you’re being forced to sell the business at a loss … to whom?’
‘A man who’s known in the world of mergers and acquisitions as “the Alchemist” because he can turn dirt into diamonds at the drop of a hat it seems. A Greek billionaire named Petrakis. It’s a cliché, I know, but he really did make me an offer I couldn’t refuse. At least I know he’s got the money. That’s something, I suppose. The thing is I need cash in the bank as soon as possible, Nat. The bank wants the money from the sale in my account tomorrow, after we complete, or else they’ll make me bankrupt.’
‘Don’t you have any other assets? What about this flat? Presumably you own it outright?’
Again her father shook his head. ‘Mortgaged up to the hilt, I’m afraid.’ Noting the shock in her eyes, he freed his hand from hers, winced, and started to rub his chest.
Natalie’s own heart started to race with concern. ‘Are you all right, Dad? Should I call a doctor?’
‘I’m fine. I probably just need to rest a bit and stop drinking so much whisky. Perhaps you’d make me a cup of tea instead?’
‘Of course I will. Why don’t you go and put your feet up on the couch in the living room and I’ll bring it in to you?’
His answer to her suggestion was to impel her close into his chest and plant a fond kiss on the top of her head. When she glanced up to examine his suddenly pale features, his warm smile was unstintingly loving and proud.
‘You’re a good girl, Natalie … the best daughter in the world. I regret not telling you that more often.’
‘You and Mum might have parted, but I always knew that you loved me.’ Gently, she stepped out of the circle of his arms.
‘It does my heart good to hear you say that. I don’t want to take advantage, but perhaps you won’t mind me asking another favour of you?’
Her throat thick with emotion, Natalie smiled back at him. ‘Ask away. You know that I’ll do anything I can to help.’
‘I want you to come with me to this meeting I’ve got with Petrakis and his lawyers tomorrow. Just for a little
moral support. Will you?’
Instinctively she knew it would probably be one of the hardest things she’d ever done, watching her father sign away the business he’d worked so hard to build all these years to some fat-cat Greek billionaire who didn’t have a clue about how much it meant to him, or care that the sale might be breaking his heart …
‘Of course I will.’ She lightly touched her palm to his cheek. ‘Now, go and put your feet up, like I said. I’ll make that cup of tea and bring it in to you.’
Her father’s once broad shoulders were stooped as he turned to exit the room. Natalie had never felt remotely violent towards anyone before, but she did now as she thought of the Greek billionaire known as ‘the Alchemist’ who was buying his business from him for a song when he could no doubt well afford to purchase it for far more and at least give her dad a fighting chance to get back on his feet again …
CHAPTER THREE
IF NATALIE HAD had a restless night, then her father had had a worse one. Several times she’d heard him get up to pace the hallway outside their bedrooms, and once when he’d omitted to close his door she’d heard the sound of violent retching coming from his bathroom. It had so frightened her that she’d raced straight into his room and banged urgently on the en-suite door. He had pleaded with her to let him sort himself out, telling her that it had happened before, that he knew how to deal with it, and Natalie had reluctantly returned to her room, heavy of heart and scared out of her wits in case he should have a seizure or a fit during the night.
After not much more than three hours’ sleep she’d woken bleary-eyed and exhausted to find blinding sunshine beaming straight at her through the uncovered window, where she’d forgotten to roll down the blinds.
