Her Rich Millionaire Playboy_A Vintage Romance

by Amberlee Day

  No, I mean Aunt Affie.

  —and he hadn’t been stalking Aunt Affie, then all he’d ever seen her in was that dress. No, she didn’t know Ned Sterling, and he didn’t know her. And as far as she was concerned, that was just fine.

  This was the Tunes’ third day at Trenforth Castle, and so far they’d spent most of their time with the owners and members of the local historical society. Today, Natalia joined them.

  When they’d met the hotel manager on first arriving at Trenforth, Beverly had liked her alright. The woman was direct and pleasant, not the alpha female type. But now that Beverly had seen how easily Natalia slipped into Ned’s arms, Beverly struggled not to look at her differently.

  If Beverly was a type, Natalia would be her opposite. She reminded Beverly of a fairy. Ultra-short black hair styled in feminine angles around a heart-shaped face; petite and delicately curvy; more makeup than Beverly wore, but expertly done; and tidy, professional clothes that didn’t miss being flattering. If Beverly allowed Aunt Affie to dress her, Natalia’s style was just what Beverly’s orderly aunt would have chosen.

  As they walked around the castle—definitely one of the smaller ones they’d visited in recent weeks—Beverly tried to detect if the manager and Ned could be or ever were an item. Just out of curiosity, of course. “Mr. Sterling mentioned last night that you and he are old friends,” Beverly asked her. “Is that common for castle people to keep in contact with each other?”

  Natalia smiled, her perfect white teeth shining behind red lipstick. “I don’t think so. I actually worked at Demander before coming here.”

  “Really? As manager?”

  Natalia looked at her curiously. “Not head manager, no. Assistant manager, for three years. I moved into a head manager position when I came here.”

  Beverly still wasn’t getting a grasp on Natalia and Ned’s relationship. She knelt down to pick up a broken flower from the ground, fingering the petals as if she would fix it. “You must enjoy what you do,” she said. “And I suppose you and Ned remained friends after you left. That’s nice. He seems … friendly.”

  When Natalia didn’t answer, Beverly was surprised to find the petite woman looking at her with a thoughtful expression. “He is nice,” Natalia said. “And single.”

  Beverly suddenly tensed so hard she could have squeezed out of her skin. Her yoga instructor wouldn’t have approved. “Oh, I wasn’t asking,” she protested, gritting her teeth. Darn. She shouldn’t have asked.

  “Weren’t you?” Natalia laughed, a perfect sound like a brook trickling that made Beverly wish she was more delicate herself.

  “No.” She tried to summon composure. “Just making conversation. We should probably catch up with Aunt Affie. I ought to be closer anyway so she can show me what pictures she wants.”

  “He’s single,” Natalia repeated. Very simple, direct.

  Beverly couldn’t read if there was any history there, but felt her cheeks go hot. She smiled. “I really wasn’t asking.”

  “Yes, you were. And he really is. Single.”

  A light twinkling fluttered in Beverly’s breast, though she quickly strangled it. Just because Natalia wasn’t dating him didn’t mean he was a good catch. It could mean he really was a playboy. Playboys were usually single too.

  “Unfortunately,” Natalia added, “he left this morning.”

  Beverly blinked away her unexpected disappointment, which had more to do with her dream than with the real Ned. “Did he just come here to see Aunt Affie, or did he have other business?”

  “I think both. He said you’ll be going to Demander next?”

  “Um, yes. That’s the plan, anyway. At least for a couple of days.”

  Natalia nodded. “Good. That’s good. It’s an impressive place. The castle looks over a darling little town, and has a view of Puget Sound. And it’s a lot bigger than Trenforth. It has turrets, and fifty rooms. And portions of it originally came from a fifteenth-century Scottish castle.”

  “Sounds … great.” Weird that Natalia would be promoting Ned’s castle-hotel so warmly. She hadn’t said that much in favor of Trenforth, her current employer.

  As they quickened their pace to catch up to the others, Natalia asked, “What do you do when you’re not traveling with your aunt, Beverly? If you don’t mind me asking.”

  Beverly took a cleansing breath. Good, they were changing the subject. “I own a used bookstore.”

  “Really? So you’re a businesswoman, too.”

  “Hardly! I mean, yes,” Beverly backpedaled, realizing how unprofessional that sounded. “I have a business plan, and pay taxes, and all that. But that’s not the fun part. Most of my time is spent handling books, and talking to people about books. And reading them, of course, every chance I get.”

  “I take it you like books.” Natalia laughed that brook sound again.

  “I do. Never going to get rich, but I love what I do. I’m kind of the underachiever of the family.”

  “It doesn’t sound like it. Running a bookstore is quite an accomplishment.”

  “My sister’s the superstar of the family. I guess I compare my achievements to her—or, they get compared for me, by the rest of the family.”

  “I know how that goes. What does your sister do?”

  Beverly thought about being vague, but a sudden urge to look impressive overruled. “She writes travel books. Traveling with Lavinia.”

  Predictably, Natalia’s head swiveled like a doll’s. “Lavinia Tune?”

  Beverly nodded. “Yep. That’s her.”

  “And you look like her,” Natalia said, studying Beverly like she was seeing her for the first time. “I should have made the connection.”

  “Have you met Lavinia?” Beverly asked.

  “No, but I’ve read several of her books, and of course her picture’s on every cover. My, you really do look like her.”

  Beverly nodded. “Alike in looks, but not personality, I’m afraid.”

  They had caught up with Aunt Affie, but stopped a ways back from the historical discussion. At this distance, her aunt could easily ask for her help if she wanted it. Natalia remained quiet, but Beverly wasn’t surprised. People usually acted differently when Lavinia’s name came up. Especially people in the travel and tourism industry.

  “Interesting,” Natalia muttered so quietly Beverly wasn’t sure if she was meant to hear.

  “Sorry?” she prodded, but Natalia shook her head.

  “Oh, nothing. Just thinking. Do you believe in coincidence, Beverly?”

  Beverly thought of Ned last night, insisting it was a coincidence that he ran into them on the stairs just when Aunt Affie needed help. She laughed. “No, I don’t,” she said.

  “Me neither,” Natalia said, but before Beverly could ask what she meant, Aunt Affie called her.

  “Beverly! You’re needed. Come make yourself useful and take a photo of this stained glass window. You’ve been neglecting me.”

  “Coming, Aunt Affie. I’m coming.”

  Chapter 4

  The next day, after a grueling drive in the rain and heavy traffic, Beverly found that Natalia wasn’t kidding about Demander Castle being impressive. It loomed imperiously above the little town of Grantsport, with threatening black clouds hanging over its turrets and red-orange lights glowing in the windows. There was no denying it was perfectly situated.

  The rain had ceased for the moment, but Beverly parked right in front so she could walk Aunt Affie to the main entrance. She’d move the car in a few minutes, but no need to make her aunt walk more than she needed to.

  “This is promising,” Aunt Affie said. “If nothing else, it will be a perfect place for you to read your murder mysteries.”

  “Can’t argue with you there,” Beverly said, a thrill shooting through her just thinking about it. She pulled open the heavy front door just as the first fat raindrops fell.

  A young blond woman greeted them from the front desk.

  “Dr. Alfreda Tune,” Aunt Affie said. �
��We’re expected.”

  The young woman paled, and her friendly smile drooped. “Yes, just a moment.” She picked up a phone, and after a moment said, “They’re here, Mr. Sterling.”

  A creaking door opened from somewhere down the hall before slamming shut again. Heavy footfalls grew louder at his approach. Beverly looked at Aunt Affie questioningly, but she only shrugged.

  Beverly had expected to see Ned come around the corner—an angry Ned, from the noise he made. But when Mr. Sterling came around the corner, it was a stranger. An imposing middle-aged man with a face of stone and steely eyes. He stopped a few yards away, staring at the Tunes.

  “Discounts, eh?” His voice boomed, bouncing against the high stone ceiling.

  Aunt Affie was not one to be intimidated. “I take it you’re Philip Sterling.”

  “I am. And you are another historian wanting to do some piece on this place.” Not a welcome prospect, Beverly would guess.

  Darn Ned! He shouldn’t have set us up for this.

  “My son tells me you’ve been traveling all up the coast asking for discounts.”

  Aunt Affie’s eyes narrowed. “If that’s the case, your son tells you incorrectly, Mr. Sterling. If a room is discounted, it’s because it’s offered to us. I’m quite happy to pay normal fare for your rooms here.”

  A loud hmph issued from the man, accompanied by a mean smile. “As you wish. The customer’s always right.”

  The main door behind them opened just then, and with the wind and rain came a familiar face: Ned. Beverly was ready to throttle him, and folded her arms, ready for battle.

  He shook off his wet head and ran a hand through the front part that he wore in a boyish tousle. “Wow! That’s a downpour.” It was then he noticed the tense group gathered near the front desk. He looked at his watch. “Oh. You’re early.”

  “Apparently,” Aunt Affie said icily. “Gentlemen, perhaps it’s best we find another hotel to conduct our research from. This one is feeling a little crowded.”

  Philip Sterling didn’t look like he’d mind if they did.

  “Not a chance,” Ned said, striding forward. At least he looked uncomfortable. “We’re expecting you, aren’t we, Dad? And we’re happy to have you taking time to lecture on the book you’re writing.”

  When his father didn’t answer, Ned prodded him with a nod.

  “Yes,” the older Sterling finally said, though he didn’t sound any friendlier. He tossed a hand in the air, and with an insincere smile said, “Mi castle is su castle.” An unpleasant sneer tossed at his son and he stormed back the way he had come.

  When the unseen door down the hall slammed closed again, Ned exhaled, and gave Beverly and Aunt Affie a host-worthy smile. “Sorry about that. My father’s not much of an ambassador for hospitality.”

  “Really, Mr. Sterling, I think we’ll go elsewhere,” Beverly said. “We can do our research just as well staying somewhere in town.”

  Ned didn’t look surprised, but his blue eyes were resolute. Not flirty, just determined, and that resurrected all her old suspicions about him and why he wanted Aunt Affie there so badly.

  Badly enough he’d tangle with that old badger of a father about it.

  “Your rooms are prepared, and the discount rate we discussed is in place. Hannah here can help get you checked in.”

  The blonde smiled again, her nervousness apparently forgotten. Aunt Affie made a disgruntled noise but went to do business with the receptionist.

  Ned approached Beverly. “Sorry for the mix-up. That shouldn’t have happened.”

  Ned was apologetic, but Beverly’s mood had darkened like the weather. “You’re right. It shouldn’t have happened. Do you know who she is?” Beverly whispered, but briefly pointed a finger toward her aunt, who was occupied checking in. “Dr. Alfreda Tune. PhD. Not some wannabe; she’s the real deal. She’s been teaching continuously since 1972. Her classes still have waiting lists. She’s a respected authority in several academic historical fields. Castles in North America’s just one of them.”

  “I know who your aunt is, but—”

  “But nothing, Ned Sterling. It is an honor to have her here, and an honor to hear her lecture. The only reason she doesn’t schedule a tour ahead of time is because she worries she’ll wear herself out and have to cancel, and she hates to cancel.”

  “Yes, but you don’t—”

  “Again with the buts?” Beverly shook her head. “If Aunt Affie hadn’t decided to stay here, she’d be in the car right now and I’d be convincing her that your castle isn’t worth the bother.”

  Ned’s mouth suddenly stretched from a patient smirk to a hard line. “Listen,” he said. “Whatever your nose is out of joint about right now, I agree. It’s justified. My father was disrespectful, and rude. But don’t go thinking that any influence you might have on your aunt will lessen the importance of Demander Castle. This place was here decades before your aunt was born, and it will still be here when—” Beverly glared a warning at him, but all he said was, “—the rest of the town has crumbled into the Sound.”

  “Fine!” Beverly whisper shouted.

  “Good!” Ned whisper shouted back.

  “Ready?” Aunt Affie had finished at the desk and made her way back to them. “Beverly, why don’t you give Mr. Sterling the car key and he can get the bags. I’m sure he doesn’t want us to have to go out in the rain. We’ll be in our rooms, Mr. Sterling.”

  Beverly couldn’t read Ned’s face, but she liked Aunt Affie’s thinking. She thrust the keys toward him so fast she surprised him. When he didn’t promptly take them, she put them in his hand. “Thank you.” She knew she sounded haughty, but she didn’t care. She offered her arm to her aunt. “Let’s go, Aunt Affie.”

  One last glimpse at Ned told her that while he may be glad Aunt Affie was there, he’d kick Beverly out of his castle in a black, angry heartbeat.

  Ned pulled a raincoat on and went to fetch Beverly Tune’s luggage. And yes, he did mind, with that attitude of hers.

  It really had turned into a downpour, not surprising for how this day was starting to look. Water poured from a clogged rain gutter and dumped into the shrubbery. Ned made a mental note to have Adam take a look at it. He’d have to add it to the long list of repairs this place needed, a lot of it coming out of Ned’s own pocket.

  Beverly’s car had to be the one parked right in the unloading zone. Where else would someone that brash leave her vehicle? Bright yellow, hybrid car. Yep, she was probably all about saving the environment but had no real idea what that meant. Most people like that didn’t.

  Opening the hatchback, he could see a dream catcher hanging from the rearview mirror, and the whole car smelled like lavender. Probably essential oils; she was that type, too. He pulled the bags out of the trunk and slammed the door closed with more force than he probably needed to.

  And what was with her outfit? At the Trenforth gala she’d looked gorgeous and sophisticated in that sleek dress. Today she had on ripped denim and a top with unfinished sleeves, like whoever made it got tired and stopped before they were done. Sandals, in the rain. And the bangles! That’s what he thought they were called, at least. Lots of bracelets, which jangled loudly as she shook a finger at him. Who did she think she was?

  Hippie. Bohemian. Flake. Well, environmentally aware flake.

  Other than the show of spunk, she was nothing like the irresistible woman he’d met two nights ago.

  Storming back to the castle with luggage under both arms and more stretching his fingers, he had to free one hand to open the front door. He swallowed back the idea that an automatic door would be handy in a hotel. That was one of the many things his father wanted to change about the place, and that Ned hoped to keep authentic.

  He put the bags next to the desk. “Hannah, would you call Adam and have him bring these things up to the Tunes?”

  “Sure.”

  “And tell them …” It was hard to say, as angry and humiliated as he felt. “Tell them I’d love to
have them as my guests at dinner, in the dining hall at six-thirty.”

  “Got it. Also, Mr. Sterling was just out here looking for you.”

  A flash of indignation pulsed through Ned. “I bet he was. I’m about to look for him, too. In his office?”

  “Yep.”

  Ned left the jacket to drip-dry on the antique coat tree by the door. Heading for the hall, he ran a hand through his hair, still wet from getting caught in the rain earlier. If he was going to meet the Tunes for dinner—if Beverly didn’t talk Dr. Tune out of accepting his invitation, that is—he’d want to take time for a quick shower between now and then.

  He could see from far down the dimly lit hall that his father’s office door was closed. Not surprising. When he was at Demander, he was usually too busy trying to make deals with someone on the phone to really interact with the castle happenings. That was fine with Ned, unless his father’s deal-making interfered with Ned’s own plans for the castle. If only Ned had the power to stop him.

  Ned tapped on the solid wood door, but didn’t wait for an answer. His father wasn’t busy, but sat back in his wide leather chair, resting a finger on his chin in thought.

  Uh-oh. He’s scheming.

  “Ned.”

  Ned closed the door behind him. “I thought we had an agreement.”

  “We did. Still do. I didn’t stop you from doing something stupid. Never do.”

  “You embarrassed them, Dad. Made me look foolish.”

  Not surprisingly, his father took the opening for an easy jibe. “You don’t need help there.”

  “Why does it matter to you? The hotel still gets the same money.”

  “It matters because it reflects on me. I’m trying to run a business here, Ned. What are you doing? Pandering to talking heads and paying out of your own pocket to do it.”