Page 3 of Best Laid Plans
She turned to face his incredulous gaze. ‘I’ll take the sofa in the living room, you can have the bedroom; that way we both get to sleep tonight.’
The Frenchman’s brow crinkled in disdain. ‘Non. Thank you, but I don’t think that’s appropriate.’
She raised an eyebrow. ‘I don’t bite, you know.’
His mouth twisted into a wry smile. ‘I’m sure you don’t, but it seems improper to ask you to share your room with a strange man.’
‘You don’t seem that strange to me.’ She cast him a smile, which he begrudgingly returned, one eyebrow raised.
‘But, seriously, it’s fine,’ she said. ‘I don’t mind sharing, and I’d hate to feel responsible for this woman losing her job.’
He flapped his hand, dismissing her concern. ‘It wouldn’t be your fault.’
She looked him hard in the eye. ‘But I’d still blame myself and it would ruin my holiday. Anyway, it doesn’t sound like you have a better option.’
He gave a gentle snort and shook his head, wearily rubbing his hand over his forehead, as he appeared to give her suggestion some serious consideration. ‘Are you sure you’re happy to do this?’ he asked, his eyes dark with indecision.
‘Yes, of course!’ she said brightly. ‘When life throws problems at you, you have to do whatever you can to make the best of a bad situation.’ She produced a firm smile. ‘Anyway, what kind of a woman would I be to send an exhausted man out into the night to sleep on the streets in such a beautiful designer suit?’
He looked at her intently for another few seconds, as if giving her the chance to change her mind, and when she resolutely kept her mouth shut he gave a sharp nod.
‘Okay, but you take the bedroom. I’ll take the sofa. I’ll be up and out early in the morning, so I won’t be in your way.’ Without waiting for her response, he bent down to scoop up his luggage.
‘I’m getting up early myself,’ she said to the top of his head, her cheeks heating a little as she realised how defiant that sounded. For some reason she didn’t want him to think she was some kind of lazy slob.
‘Then we’ll each have to pretend the other doesn’t exist,’ he said with a flash of droll humour in his eyes as he looked back up at her, pushing a hand through his hair as he righted himself.
An impossible feat, Indigo thought, her eyes following the movement of his long fingers and the way his hair fell perfectly back into place, as if it didn’t dare defy him. There was no way a man like this could ever be ignored.
Turning back to the receptionist, he held out his passport. ‘If you’ll give us two key cards we’ll find our own way up to the room.’
With an air of sombre apology, the receptionist checked the passport, then picked up Indigo’s – which was still lying on the reception desk – and tapped something into her computer. After swiping a couple of key cards through a machine, she handed everything back to the Frenchman. ‘There are extra blankets and pillows in the wardrobes. I hope you will be comfortable,’ she said sheepishly, before scurrying away to serve someone who had just arrived at the other end of the desk.
Handing Indigo her passport and key card, he turned abruptly on his heel and, without another word, strode away from her, bags swinging from his hand.
Clearly, he was a leader, not a follower.
Indigo paused for a moment, staring after him, suddenly feeling a little unsure of herself.
Had she really just offered to share a suite with a complete stranger?
She was so used to figuring out quick fixes at work it hadn’t struck her exactly what she’d committed to until it was too late to back out of it.
As she watched him reach the elevator and jab the button to call it, exhaustion from the mad scramble to get her community cafe in good shape so she didn’t have to worry about it whilst she was away hit her like a wallop to the gut. The last three months had been tough, filled with worry about whether the funding she’d applied for in order to keep it running would materialise, and it all seemed to be catching up with her now.
Ironically, this week away was supposed to be a break from the stress of it. Initially it had struck her as ridiculous to come on holiday when she had the possibility of losing everything hanging over her head, but she’d dropped the ball and made a few silly mistakes recently that, while fixable, had meant she’d cost the cafe some money it could ill afford to lose. As her friend Lacey had jokingly pointed out, it would probably do both her and the cafe some good to have some time apart.
Added to which, all the travel and accommodation for this week had already been paid for and was non-refundable so it would have been a waste of money not to come.
Wastage was something she felt very strongly about.
Anyway, it was too late to change her mind now – even if she let the Frenchman have the suite to himself, she didn’t have the money to pay for a room in another hotel, let alone the energy to face the monumental task of finding one.
This was her only option.
Hurrying after him, she caught him up just as the elevator door opened with a smoothswish.
‘Okay, let’s do this,’ she said, her words coming out a little breathlessly after her dash across the foyer.
