Page 7 of Resisting Mr Black

Of course, I’ve heard of Go Fitness but have never stepped into a gym in my life. It’s all slotting into place. The exceptional physique, the fact he doesn’t look like your average hotel manager. I frown as I rewind back over what Olly has just said. This guy has his own photo displayed in the reception areas of his gyms.How narcissistic.

Art breaks into a broad smile, revealing a set of perfect white teeth, and by this stage, I don’t expect them to be anything less. Everything about this guy’s appearance is perfect and it’s pissing me off because it’s making it rather difficult to be annoyed at him.

“Excellent. Keep going,” he encourages Olly, who waffles on about his role. I throw furtive glances in Art’s direction, studying his side profile, determined to find a flaw. His nose is poker straight and draws into a point ever so slightly at the tip, but it only seems to accentuate his handsome face.Damn it.A squiggle of desire ignites deep inside of me as I admire how the material of his polo shirt pulls taut across his pecs and six-pack giving the promise of lean, toned golden flesh beneath. My eyes travel upwards and a bolt of shock tears through me as I find him watching me. There’s a ghost of a smile dancing across his lips which confirms he knows exactly the effect he’s having on me.

Shit!

I immediately snap my eyes to the floor and focus on the brown stain on the grey carpet tiles beneath the toes of my patent shoes. I focus on breathing in and out and I’m relieved to see he’s no longer looking at me when I finally glance up and find Tina is now talking.

I push myself straight in the chair and cross my legs, noticing his eyes dart in my direction momentarily when he should be focussing on Tina. Within a few seconds, my eyes betray me once more and drop to his large tanned hands, splayed out on the desk either side of him. He’s wearing a very expensive black watch and I notice his long fingers are ringless. He’s not married. Surely a guy this attractive and this successful should be married? Or maybe that’s how he likes it. The expensive watch, the flash sports car, the immaculate clothes, the painful good looks all scream Playboy lifestyle. Why should he commit to one woman when he can have a different one every night?

The sound of Lucy’s voice beside me pulls me back into the moment. It’s my turn next. I shift in my seat and place my hands in my lap, the heat from my clammy palms warming my thighs through my dress. I need to prepare for the full velocity of his intense gaze fixed on me in a moment because I’m determined not to make myself look like a prat in front of my colleagues.“ So, that’s it, really,” Lucy’s final words filter into my thoughts and I turn to see her beaming across the office and batting her eyelashes at him.

I take a deep breath in to quell the jumble of nerves in my stomach and look up to find him already staring at me, his dark eyebrows raised a fraction in anticipation.

“I’m Sophie Ward,” I say in a clear, confident voice. “I’m the wedding planner and I’ve worked here for three years.” His eyes study me, as if he’s waiting for me to carry on and tell him more. I’m not going to. I’ll provide the same stripped back overview as he did.

“Sophie Ward.” He says my name as though he’s testing how it sounds on his lips and I bite the inside of my mouth to stifle a moan that threatens to escape. Myconfident façade is slipping through my fingers and if he says my name one more time, he’ll bulldoze it to the ground. Thankfully he doesn’t.

“So, you’re a party planner.” His rude statement about my role has me stalling momentarily. I didn’t hear him take a dig at anyone else.

Arrogant git.

Irritation at his rudeness spurs me on. “I’ve organised one hundred and twenty-six parties that have all gone without a hitch and the hotel is a very popular wedding venue, so I must be doing something right.” I stress the word parties and frown, waiting for his comeback. George has turned puce at my feisty retaliation. I don't care. I’m no longer willing to endure put-downs and snarky digs from men, any men. That’s firmly in my past.

Art’s eyes slide over me and his mouth quirks into a smile.Is he enjoying this?“And weddings are the main source of income for the hotel.” It’s not a question, it’s a statement. His head tilts a fraction to the left, and he suddenly looks deep in thought. “I’d better not let you go then, Sophie.”

His words and the sound of my name on his lips entangle together and set off a peculiar fluttery sensation in my nether regions.What’s this guy doing to me?

I’m relieved when his gaze shifts to George.

Once George has finished his overview, Art turns his attention back to the rest of us.“ That’s given me a better idea of your roles. You’ll see me around the hotel a little more because I want to get a real sense of what’s going on here.”

What’s going on here? What does that mean?

George slides to the edge of his chair. “Excuse me, Mr Black.”

“Art,” he responds, causing George’s cheeks to turn red.

“Oh... sorry, Art. I think it would be helpful for the staff team if you could at least give us some insight into what it is you intend to do with the hotel. I presume you’re going to keep it and not sell,” he laughs nervously. “We’ve all got bills to pay and mouths to feed.”

Art drags a hand across his jawline and examines us as if he’s gauging the reaction he’s about to receive. “I can’t make you any promises at this stage, I’m afraid.”

I hear a couple of moans from around the room and anxiety coils within my stomach. “You’re seriously considering selling?” I blurt unable to help myself.

His dark brown eyes harden at my challenge. It’s clear it’s not something he’s used to. “I need time to look at the books. Work things through.” He addresses the rest of the room. “Once I’ve come to a decision, you’ll be the first to know. I’m sorry I can’t give you anything concrete today. It was good to meet you all.” And just like that, we’re dismissed. He folds his arms and lowers his gaze to the floor signalling the end of the conversation.

A hum of conversation descends as the others start to rise to their feet and disappear from the room.

“Great.” Lucy heaves a resigned sigh and climbs to her feet. “Looks like I might not have a venue to get married in. And there was me thinking it would be less hassle to get married here.”

“We don’t know that.” My half-hearted attempt at assurance is met by a weak smile and I can’t think of anything else to say to make it better so keep quiet.

“I’d like a guided tour of the hotel now,” I hear Art announce to George over the din of chatter as the staff file out of the door.

“Yes, yes of course.” George jumps to his feet with purpose. “Let me lead the way.”

“I want Sophie to do it.” Art’s eyes land on me.

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