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“My papers are ruined,” the man whined.
“That’s regrettable. It’s unfortunate that you don’t have copies.” But Wyatt’s voice sounded anything but sympathetic.
“I do, but not here.”
“Yet you terrorized a child, one of my guests.”
“I’m one of your guests.”
Wyatt’s eyes were green ice. “Not anymore. Any money you’ve spent here will be refunded, but you’re not welcome at McKendrick’s.”
“I have a reservation.”
“And I have a hotel. My hotel trumps your reservation. Get out.” He gave one quick look to the side, and instantly two security guards stepped out of a nearby foyer.
The man muttered a low, foul epithet, but he began to gather up his soggy papers as the guards approached. Wyatt asked another employee to take down the man’s information. Then he turned to Alex, the woman and the little boy.
The woman looked as if life had been beating her up lately. “I—Thank you,” she said to Alex and Wyatt. “Oh…here, I’ll take her.” The woman’s littlest moppet—maybe three years old at best—had crawled onto Alex’s lap, her thumb in her mouth.
“It’s all right. She’s fine,” Alex said, stroking the child’s silken curls. “She’s adorable. And so is Denny.”
Denny hung his head.
“He’s clumsy now and then,” his mother said, still a bit teary, “but he’s a good boy.”
“And he’s very brave,” Wyatt said, squatting down in front of the child. “Accidents happen, son,” he said. “When I was your age, they happened to me all the time.”
The boy’s eyes widened. “For real?”
The desperation in his voice made Alex remember what it was like to be very young and do something humiliating in public. Children hadn’t yet learned how to shrug that kind of thing off. The shame could resurface in thoughts years later.
“Oh, yeah,” Wyatt said. “I once spilled red fruit punch on my uncle’s white suit. It was his favorite, and I ruined it.”
“What happened?” the boy whispered.
Wyatt hesitated. “I grew up. You will, too. You should be careful, but the man was wrong to talk to you like that. All of us make mistakes. He’ll survive.”
He lightly tapped the boy’s nose, then turned to the mother, found out that she was visiting her sister at the hotel, and made arrangements for a meal and a babysitter.
After the woman and her children had gone upstairs, Alex turned to Wyatt. She wanted to thank him for stepping into a situation that had been escalating. But Wyatt was already almost out of the vicinity. As he started to leave the lobby, he turned and looked at her, and there was a scowl on his face.
Maybe he didn’t like having to get involved in the personal lives of his guests, maybe he was worried that this event would cost McKendrick’s the award or…maybe he was worried that she was still remembering last night’s kiss and would expect things of him now.
“Don’t worry. That’s not going to happen,” she whispered, but of course he didn’t hear her. He was already gone, and as usual he was alone.
The way he liked it, she reminded herself, remembering what Randy had told her.
CHAPTER EIGHT (#ulink_8110106f-daef-56d9-a989-272398e15bf6)
A WEEK had passed, and Alex had grown into her job so quickly that she was starting to feel as if she really belonged at McKendrick’s—something that was alarming, because she didn’t belong. McKendrick’s was too closely tied to Wyatt, a man who made her remember how it felt to be in his arms every time she saw him.
Just like a lot of other women had, she reminded herself. And a woman with her record certainly knew better than to travel that route. She wanted to help Wyatt’s hotel win. Because it was a wonderful place, because Wyatt wanted to win and because…well, because she just wanted to. But her involvement had to stop at the hotel.
So she did her best to focus on McKendrick’s, on the ballroom that was being renovated, on the reporters who had heard about the hotel’s finalist status and had come to take pictures twice already. The thing not to concentrate on was the fact that Wyatt hadn’t come near her since the day after their kiss. He’d clearly concluded her training and was on to other things. So she shouldn’t be thinking of the man at all, except…
She could still see Wyatt with that little boy. The loner who had told her that he wasn’t meant for marriage and children, who was clearly uncomfortable dealing with emotional people, had set aside his personal preferences to bond with and comfort a wounded child. If she thought about how she had felt watching Wyatt in that moment…Alex’s heart tipped crazily. Visions of all the leaps she’d made into doomed love slammed into her soul.
Don’t remember how you felt. Never let down your guard on your heart, she ordered herself. Just work.
She did. She drove herself. And when Wyatt sent around a memo that all employees were to take regular breaks and lunches, she took a five-minute break and a ten-minute lunch. A part of her knew that taking this job had been a huge mistake, but she had agreed to it. Now all she could think was that if she kept working the days would pass. Belinda would return, all this would end, and the worst that would have hap-pened would be that Alex had melted in Wyatt’s arms once. Surely she could survive that one mistake?
As long as she didn’t stop to think, she’d be fine. Because thinking led to recalling the sound of Wyatt’s voice. It led to reliving the sensation of Wyatt’s mouth on hers.
The kiss had been a mistake, as he had said, but it had felt too wonderful—and had made her want more.
“Grr,” she told herself.
At Randy’s questioning look, she automatically held up a piece of paper. “You wouldn’t believe some of the suggestions for the new name of the ballroom.”
“I could help you with that.”
She blinked. “Thank you. You’re a good guy, Randy.”
He blushed. Actually blushed. “Just doing my job.”
“Well, you do a great job. I may need help if we get too many more of these. For now I’ll let them sit. I have to map out a tour for the Airinson group. They’ll be here at two.” She glanced at the list she was making.
At that moment Randy’s phone rang. He picked it up. “Yes. No. She took a lunch break. How long? Well…”
He mumbled a few more things Alex didn’t catch, and when he hung up he gave Alex one brief, evasive look, then turned away.
Five minutes later Wyatt strode across the lobby with Jenna, who worked in the office, skip-stepping to keep up.
“Come on,” Wyatt said to Alex. “Time to get your basic nourishment. I don’t want you keeling over at your desk.”
“I had lunch.”
“I heard about your ten-minute lunch. And that you were interrupted by a phone call. Let’s go.”
He looked down at the overflowing contest basket and at the stacks of paper on her desk. The collection of cute little personal items and photos she kept there was almost obscured.
“Enforced downtime just arrived,” he told her. “Tell Jenna what’s a priority. Randy will back her up if she needs help.”
Since Randy was obviously the one who had ratted her out, Alex looked up at him. “You have a big mouth,” she told him.
“Don’t blame Randy. You can’t skip meals or work non-stop,” Wyatt told her, “and Randy had his orders.”
To her amazement Randy was looking guilty. “I know you were just trying to help,” she told him.
“You do a great job, but you work too hard.”
It was the nicest thing he had said to her. “You’re a sweetie, Randy,” she said.
He looked horrified. “Don’t tell.”
“It’s just between the four of us,” she promised. “Let me finish this tour map,” she told Wyatt. “The Airinsons are counting on me. Then I’ll eat.”
Wyatt gave her an exasperated look. “The Airinsons will find free tickets to a show in their room and an apology from me for pulling you off the job. Jenna will make a great map for them.”
“I promise I’ll do my best, Alex,” Jenna said.
“Okay. I’ll get the rest of my lunch.” Alex reached for a drawer.
“No need. I’m taking you out of here.” Wyatt’s jaw was rock-solid, his look grim. Something was wrong.
Alex stopped arguing and followed him.
He handed her into his black sports car and drove to an exclusive, out of the way restaurant. She looked at the prices on the menu and flinched.
“Thank you for taking me to lunch, but I—Why are you looking like a thundercloud?”
“This isn’t working.”
Her heart fell. “I told you the first day that I might not be the right person for the job.”
He glared at her. “You are the right person.”
“But you just said…”
“I didn’t think I would have to drag you from the clutches of an insane jerk. Nor did I think I would have to kidnap you to get you to take a break. Most people stop working at designated times to rev their engines and just get some fresh air. That’s why it’s called a break, Alexandra.”
Okay, now she saw the trouble. Wyatt took the hotel seriously. Everything about the hotel, including his employees’ welfare. “I don’t want you to worry about what happened the other day with that…that…”
“Gorilla,” Wyatt supplied.
“He wasn’t that big.”
“He was a lot bigger than you.” Oh, clearly this topic had been festering inside him.
“You could have simply come to me and forbade me from interfering in altercations between guests.”
He gave her a “you’ve got to be kidding” look. “You’re the woman who told me that you tend to be overzealous about helping people. You ignored my memos about breaks and lunches. You implied that you make decisions based on emotions.”
“I did not.”
“Didn’t you? Well, somehow I must have just gotten that impression. Oh, yes, now I remember how. Maybe because you squeezed yourself in between that boy and the man, so that you would take the pummeling if he decided to let his fists fly.”
“You would have done the same.”
“Maybe.” How ridiculous. Of course he would. The only thing that had saved that jerk of a man from a punch in the jaw had been the fact that Wyatt knew how to exercise self-control. Except when he was tasting a woman’s lips.
Alex frowned to herself, but Wyatt had moved on.
“It doesn’t matter if I would have, anyway. I’m taller, bigger and stronger than you. He could have hurt you.”
“But I’m fine.”
“You’re not. You’re pushing yourself and not getting away from your desk enough.”
Again Randy’s words about guilt nudged at her. “I don’t want you to feel guilty just because I forgot to take much of a lunch break today. I was getting to it.”
He gave a harsh bark of a laugh. “You,” he said, pointing a breadstick at her, “are a workaholic.”
She laughed and picked up her own breadstick. “You ought to know. You’re one, too.”
But he was still frowning. “Seriously, Alex. Cesar, who works the night desk, told me that you came downstairs the other day to help Lois out when things got busy, and then you slipped in two extra tour groups. After hours.”
“Work is how—” she began, and then stopped. How could she put this? Work is how I keep my mind off you? Or worse…
Reality struck. Work, helping people, was how she’d always tried to impress those she cared about, the way she’d tried to win their affection. The possibility that she was doing that now made her ill; it totally frightened her. Because Wyatt was the one man she’d never even stood a chance of winning. He’d told her so. Randy had told her that. Everyone had told her. And yet she couldn’t stop. With the awards, there was too much at stake. Reports of Champagne’s new improvements were coming in daily.
“What does this award mean to you?” she asked.
He frowned. “It doesn’t mean life or death,” he said. “It doesn’t mean I want you making yourself sick.”
“Okay. I promise I won’t make myself sick. I’ll be reasonable.”
He looked incredulous.
“I’ll be more reasonable than I have been,” she said. “Why do you want to win? Why are you working so hard to obtain it?”
His jaw tensed.
“Please,” she said. “Tell me.”
His eyes turned fierce and angry. “I don’t want to want it, but I do. It would be…validation.”
Something in his eyes reminded her of Randy’s comment about Wyatt’s past. Let that be a warning, she told herself. It had been a girl from Leo’s past and a woman from her stepfather’s past that had taken them out of her life. Men with dark, secret pasts had never been good for her. “I want to help you win,” she said.
“And I want to win. But not by harming your health. I can’t be abusive, Alex, demanding that everyone jump in an effort to make me happy. I don’t want and I can’t have a slave.”
That cool edge that always tinged his voice was gone, replaced by something much more raw. Alex wanted to know what that was about, but Wyatt clearly didn’t want to share anything that personal. And maybe…Was she afraid to know more? Afraid of what she might feel?
She studied him, looked down at the table, then up again.
“You don’t have to worry. I won’t be a slave for any man. I’ve willingly volunteered to be a lesser person before and I’m through with that. It hasn’t worked out well for me. But nothing you’ve asked me to do falls into that category.”
His green gaze held her captive. “You’re going to have to explain that ‘lesser person’ part.”
