Stranded with the Tycoon

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‘A little French restaurant I know,’ Ben said, answering the question she’d almost forgotten she’d asked. ‘It’s up past the Cross, on the Rows. You okay to walk in those shoes?’

‘Of course.’ Luce spoke the words automatically, even though the balls of her feet had started to smart as she struggled over the cobbles. Show no weakness. That was another of her grandad’s rules to live by. If she couldn’t keep the other one tonight, she might as well try to hang on to something.

‘You never used to wear shoes like that.’

Luce couldn’t tell if the warm feeling that settled over her shoulders at Ben’s words was relief or confusion. ‘You do remember me, then?’ she blurted out before she could stop herself. ‘I wasn’t sure.’

‘You think I invite strange women up to my suite all the time?’

Luce shrugged. ‘University was a long time ago. I have no idea what kind of man you are now. And, actually...’

‘Yeah, yeah.’ Ben rolled his eyes. ‘Eight years ago I’d have invited all women up to my room.’

‘I hope you’ve grown up a little since then.’ A hitch in Ben’s step made her glance up. ‘What?’

He shook his head. ‘Nothing. Just depends who you ask.’

Picking up speed again, Ben led them up the very steep steps onto the medieval Rows, a second layer of shops and restaurants above the street-level ones. The historian in Luce was fascinated by the structure—the timber fronts, the overhanging storey above making a covered walkway. There was no other example in the world—the Chester Rows were unique. She should be savouring every detail.

And instead all she could think was, He remembers me. Well, at least she knew now. Except...just because he remembered her, that didn’t mean he remembered the last time they’d seen each other.

Maybe he’d forgotten it entirely. And maybe that meant she could, too.

It was too cold for much more conversation. They made their way along the Rows, Luce tucked tightly into Ben’s body for warmth, until he said, ‘Here we are,’ and Luce’s whole body relaxed at the sight of a cosy little restaurant tucked away behind a few closed shops with sparkling Christmas window displays.

‘Thank God for that,’ she said, smiling up at Ben. ‘I’m freezing.’

CHAPTER FOUR

SMILING UP AT HIM, complaining about the cold, Luce seemed relaxed for the first time. As if this was any usual date, not a peculiar arrangement to help an uptight woman cut loose. And she remembered him. That was a start. He wasn’t sure he could have made it all through dinner without knowing.

Ben pushed open the door to La Cuill?re d’Argent and let Luce walk into the warmth first. Her face brightened in the candlelit restaurant, and she glanced back at him with surprise on her face.

‘I’m overdressed,’ she said, taking in the rustic wooden tables and chairs. There weren’t many other people eating there, but those who were wore mostly casual clothes.

‘You look perfect.’ He smiled at the waiter approaching. ‘Table for two, please?’

Seated at a candlelit table in the window, looking out at the people hurrying past, Luce stripped off her coat and asked, ‘How did you know about this place?’

‘Not what you were expecting?’

She shook her head, and Ben knew what she was thinking. She’d expected somewhere impressive, somewhere fancy and expensive—somewhere that would make her feel kindly towards him when he paid, possibly impressed enough to take him to bed when they got back to the hotel. Somewhere like The Edge. Somewhere that said, I’m Ben Hampton and I’ve just inherited half of a multi-million-pound hotel chain, and I still have time to flatter and treat you. Aren’t you impressed?

But that would have defeated the object of the evening. He wanted Luce to relax, and he knew she wasn’t the sort to be impressed by or enjoy over-priced, over-fiddly food. Too practical for that, with her epic ‘To Do’ lists and her martyr complex. She’d probably feel guilty the whole time, which wouldn’t help his cause at all.

No, he needed somewhere cosy and intimate, somewhere he could actually talk to her, learn about her life since uni, find out what made her tick. This place was perfect for that. Ben blinked in the candlelight as he realised, belatedly, that he wanted to know her. Not just seduce her or entertain her. He wanted to know the truth of Luce Myles.

Of course seducing her was still firmly part of the plan. He just didn’t mind a little small talk first.

‘Have you been here before?’ Luce asked, scanning the wine list. ‘Do you live in Chester?’

Ben shook his head. ‘Just visiting to check on the hotel. But I came here with my mother years ago. She was born in France, you see. Knew every great French restaurant in the country.’ It must have been fifteen years ago or more, he realised. ‘I checked while you were in the bath to make sure it was still here, actually. It really has been a while.’

‘What does it mean?’ Luce asked, staring at the front of the menu, where the restaurant name curled across the card. ‘“La Cuill?re d’Argent”,’ she read slowly.

‘The Silver Spoon,’ Ben translated, tapping a finger against the picture under the words—an ornate piece of silverware not unlike the ones on the table for their use.

‘I like it,’ Luce announced, smiling at him over the menu.

Ben’s shoulders dropped as a tension he hadn’t realised he was feeling left him. That was wrong. She was the one who was supposed to be relaxing. He was always relaxed. That was who he was.

‘Good,’ he said, a little unnerved, and motioned a waiter over to order a carafe of white wine to start. He rather thought he might need it tonight.

They made polite conversation about the menu options, and the freshly baked bread with olive tapenade the waiter brought them, before Luce asked, ‘So, if you’re just visiting, where is home these days?’

Ben shrugged. Home wasn’t exactly something he associated with his stark and minimalist penthouse suite. And since he hadn’t been to the cottage in Wales for over a year, and the ch?teau in France for far longer, he was pretty sure they didn’t count.

‘I’m based out of London, but mostly I’m on the road. Wherever there’s a Hampton & Sons hotel I’ve got a bed for the night, so I do okay.’

Across the table Luce’s eyes widened with what Ben recognised as pity. ‘That must be hard. Not having anywhere to call home.’