Chapter 8

Luca stretched out his cramped limbs. Seven-thirty in the morning, and he’d already been at his desk for a couple of hours. Making himself a cup of Earl Grey, he closed his eyes as he inhaled and sipped the fragrant brew, his tired mind drifting to where it had been going all too frequently over the last few days.

He clattered the cup down. Why was he thinking about Adrian Hardy again? Prickly as a cactus, overly blunt, he was a man who made walking on egg shells feel like a stroll in the park. Yet, the man had shown another side of himself, in the café. Something less brittle, less hard, his worry over his old dog Spud revealing a surprising depth of feeling beneath his iron exterior.

Luca looked at his watch, then adjusted the cuffs on his pristine white shirt, peeking out beneath his suit jacket. It was time he walked the hotel, to check to see if all was well. As it would be.

Before leaving his office, he inspected his appearance in the mirror. The shadows beneath his eyes looked like storm clouds and he frowned. No wonder, when he’d been sleeping so fitfully. He’d never needed much sleep, but recently he’d been managing on even less than usual. And when he did? Jumbled dreams that woke him in a sweat and a hard on that pulsed painfully between his legs.

He adjusted his tie, pulling the knot tight with a hard tug before smoothing down his already perfectly brushed hair. Tilting his chin upwards, he was ready to face whatever the day threw at him.

Reception was already busy, the young receptionist charming a couple of guests if their laughter was any indication. Waiting staff went back and forth bearing trays of breakfast to those who wished to eat privately, and housekeeping moved with quiet, quick efficiency as they geared up to clean and tidy rooms. The spa, a newly built addition but connected to the main, older building by a warm corridor decorated in muted, soothing tones, was quiet — at least for now — but would soon fill with guests who wished to have the stresses of life pummelled or brushed away. In the pool, an aqua yoga class was taking place, the faint tones of what Luca always secretly thought of as tuneless, annoying whale music reaching his ears.

Making his way to the dining room, where most of the tables were already occupied, he greeted the staff by name as he moved through. Stopping at the breakfast buffet, he frowned. The almond croissant basket was less than half full. The maitre’d rushed across, concern on his face.

“Good morning, Mr. Graham. Is there a problem?”

Luca looked at the poorly stocked basket. “It’s the small things that make a difference. Details, you need to remember that. Please ensure all items are fully stocked at all times,” Luca said smoothly, and quietly. “This is a premier establishment, and our guests notice these things.” As do I. He smiled, holding the man’s gaze. Luca never raised his voice to a member of staff; he didn’t have to, not when his direct gaze made his meaning clear: Do not make me speak to you about this again.

“Understood, Mr. Graham. My apologies.”

Luca nodded his head, and smiled, as he made his way towards the kitchen.

The heat hit him as soon as he walked in. Chefs of all grades darted around. The clash of pots and pans, the whoosh of burners, and Rhonda geeing everybody up to get moving, to stop dawdling, that guests were waiting. The scene was chaotic, but Luca knew it was really anything but. Like the rest of the hotel, the kitchen was a tightly run machine.

“Mr. Graham.” Rhonda raised her hand. In public, in front of the staff, he was always Mr. Graham. The kitchen paused, or seemed to, as everybody stilled for a moment and looked up before they threw themselves back into work.

“Everything as it should be?” Luca asked, when she came over.

Rhonda nodded. Without a word, she assembled a small plate, with various tasters from the breakfast menu, and handed him a fork. Brioche, bacon, eggs, salmon, béarnaise sauce, and a whole lot more, he tasted it all.

“Excellent.” He put the fork down on the plate, which was whisked away by a kitchen porter. “You have everything you need for today?”

“I do.” Rhonda pushed an errant strand of hair back under her hat. “Just had a delivery from Adrian Hardy.”

Luca’s stomach jolted and his face heated, but then it was very warm in the kitchen. “Is everything going well on that front?”

“Beautiful produce, delivered bang on time.” She nodded enthusiastically then lowered her voice. “We haven’t killed each other yet, but then I suppose we’re both beginning to realise we’re straight talkers. He’s caused quite a stir with some of the younger team.” She huffed out a laugh, and the muscles across Luca’s shoulders tightened.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you’ve met him. Very attractive. There’s something Heath Robinson about him. All dark and brooding.”

“I think you mean Heathcliff.”

“Do I? Well, whatever, there’s definite competition to check in the produce when he delivers.”

“Don’t allow him to become a distraction.”

Rhonda jolted, her face creasing in offence. Shit. He hadn’t meant to snap, and now he had a pissed off executive chef on his hands.

“I’m sure his novelty will soon wear off,” Luca said, his tone mollifying, “and if it doesn’t, I know you’ll handle it well.”

The creases in Rhonda’s face ironed out.

Leaving the kitchen, Luca continued with his tour. Everything was serene and calm, everything as it should be. It was just a shame that the only thing out of control was the galloping beat of his heart. As he made his way back to his office, his thoughts kept turning towards the farmer.

Good looking, certainly. Brooding, that deserved a gold star. Sexy as they came, and when Adrian’s intense green eyes met and held his own… Luca’s stomach tightened and his cock grew heavy. What the hell… Tugging his jacket down, he hurried up the staff only set of stairs and darted into his office, slamming the door behind him. Leaning hard against it, he closed his eyes. What if anybody had seen his… He tried to gulp, but his throat was dry.

He’d worked in enough hotels to know rumours ran rife — most of them untrue — and that news travelled fast, its truth or otherwise of no concern. Throughout his career, he’d trodden with care, throwing not even the smallest scrap for others to rip apart and gossip about. And that was exactly how it was going to stay.

Opening a bottle of water from the small fridge that sat in the corner, he drank deeply, the icy water calming him down. He needed a break, just a couple of days away. He was overtired, that was all, no wonder when he worked all the hours god sent. He pulled out his mobile, ready to call Alex, when there was a knock on the door, and one of the admin staff poked their head around the corner.

“Mr. Graham, there’s a Mr. Hardy wanting to speak to you. He’s one of our fresh produce suppliers. If you’re busy, I can ask him to make an appointment.”

Luca blinked. “Erm, no, that’s fine.” He swallowed hard. It really wasn’t fine at all. Maybe Adrian should make an appointment. For next week. Or next month. “Just give me a couple of minutes, will you.”

Luca rubbed his hands down his face. It was as though he’d summoned the man up just by thinking about him. Thank god he’d got himself under control. He glanced down at his groin and grimaced. Yes, his cock may now be behaving, but the same couldn’t be said for his nerves, which were sparking and lighting up like a Christmas tree. He was tired, he’d been working flat out, he was feeling overstretched. That was all it was. Tugging down on his cuffs, straightening his tie, and brushing away the always non-existent piece of dust from his lapel, Luca paused in front of the mirror.

Staring at his reflection, all was calm and composed, his surface without a hint of ripple. Looks were deceiving and right now they were the biggest deception of all. He opened the door.

In the small outer office, Adrian lounged on a sofa. He dominated the room, seemed to take all the air from it, and for a moment Luca’s chest grew heavy as his throat constricted and his breathing laboured.

“Mr. Hardy.” How was it possible that his voice was smooth and modulated? “You wished to see me? Come in, please.”

Adrian got to his feet, his movements economical. He was wearing the same jeans as when they’d met in the café, encasing those long, muscular legs. No black leather jacket this time, but a worn and soft looking plaid shirt, open over a T-shirt as green as his eyes.

“What can I do for you? There’s no problem, is there, with continuing to supply the hotel? No issues with Rhonda, I hope?”

“I said I can meet your requirements, and I can. And Rhonda’s fine.” Adrian’s words were as direct as his gaze. He reached into the hip pocket of his jeans, and retrieved a slim, silver pen.

Luca stared at it, his mouth dropping open. How and why did Adrian have it? How and why hadn’t he missed it? A moment’s nausea bubbled up in his stomach.

“Thank you.” Coming forward, he held out his hand. Adrian passed it across, their fingers touching, just the briefest of seconds, sparking and burning Luca’s skin. “How did you…?” His voice sounded too loud, too unsteady, in the quiet of his office.

“The café. When you put your name in the books. I must have picked it up by mistake when I rushed off. I’m sorry if you thought you’d lost it. It’s a good pen, a bit more than a Biro.”

“Yes, it is. I don’t actually use it very often, but it’s got a lot of sentimental value. My late grandfather bought it for me. Thank you for returning it.”

Adrian ran his fingers through his hair, and Luca followed the movement. Thick and glossy, Adrian’s hair looked soft and Luca wondered what those strands would feel like running through his?—

“What? Sorry?”

What the hell had he been thinking… Adrian was staring at him, one brow arching as though he knew exactly what it was that had been running through his head. He only hoped to god his face didn’t look as red and hot as it felt.

“I only found it last night, at the bottom of my bag. I could have left it at reception, I suppose, but?—”

“No, I’m glad you brought it to me direct.” Because within five minutes everybody would have been wondering why you had my pen, putting two and two together and coming up with every number under the sun.

“Well, you’ve got it now and that’s the main thing.”

“Yes.”

Luca smiled, in the vain hope it was bland, pleasant and totally professional, and tried not to fidget. Just a couple of feet away, Adrian stood as still as a rock and just as unreadable. The silence was weighted, heavy.

“How’s Spud. Is he getting better?” The words rushed from Luca, anything to fill the void.

Adrian’s smile was sunshine bursting through storm clouds, and Luca couldn’t resist smiling back.

“He’s doing great — he kind of thinks he’s a puppy again.” Adrian laughed, the deep rumble sending a ripple of dark heat through Luca. Silence descended once more. Adrian looked away, his hand worrying at the back of his neck. “I’d best go and let you get on as I expect you’re very busy, running a place like this.” Adrian turned for the door, jolting Luca out of his paralysis.

“Can I offer you some refreshment? Tea, coffee?” Luca blurted.

Adrian stopped and looked over his shoulder. Something flickered through his eyes, but it was gone in a moment. He answered with a hesitant smile. “Tea, please. Builder’s strength.”

“Yes, of course.” Luca darted towards the tray on top of the fridge that was replenished daily, his hands heavy and clumsy as he dropped a teabag into a fine china cup. He hesitated for a moment before he did the same for himself.

“Is everything working out with Rhonda?” Luca asked as he handed over the tea, the cup looking like a child’s toy in Adrian’s large hand.

Adrian smirked. “Thought you’d already asked me that, and I answered.” His eyes were dark and watchful. Luca shivered as his shoulders stiffened, his body unsure whether it was thrilled or annoyed.

“A new relationship — business relationship, I mean,” Luca said, correcting himself as his skin prickled beneath the weight of Adrian’s gaze, “is often a little bumpy in the beginning.” He took too big a sip of his too hot tea and his eyes watered. Luca didn’t believe his own words. He was always at pains to ensure all contracts ran smoothly from the start, but under Adrian’s intense eyes the words — any words — were forced out of him.

Adrian shrugged. “I deliver the agreed produce on the agreed date and time, and the hotel pays me. Although that’s not yet happened.”

“We pay all our suppliers monthly, as you know. No exceptions.”

“I’m not expecting any. I’ve always found that when somebody claims you’re that, it invariably turns out to be a whole crock of—well, let’s just say it doesn’t end up being the case.” Adrian scowled as he turned his attention to his tea.

Luca glanced up at him through his lashes. The man was as unpredictable and changeable as the West Country weather. Yet, his interest was piqued. Had somebody promised Adrian he was something special? That he was an exception? Was that why the man ran hot and cold, lurching from agreeable, even friendly, to terse and grumpy?

“How long have you worked in the hotel sector?”

Luca, lost in his own thoughts, started at the question. Adrian, blunt as ever, made his question sound like an accusation.

“All my working life. I joined a large hotel chain after university, the same one I worked in at weekends when I was a student. I enjoyed the buzz of a busy hotel, so it seemed a good choice of career.” Forget about the rows with his parents, and their heavy handed insistence he join his father in his legal practice…

“Isn’t it a bit rural and out of the way for you here? I’d have thought some cool and trendy London boutique hotel would be more up your street.”

“Oh, so you’ve been thinking about me, have you?” The words were out of Luca’s mouth before his brain could yank them back.

They stared at each other across the small coffee table, the silence thick and weighty, and in that moment, like a flash in the dark, Luca didn’t mind if that was what this moody, unpredictable and devastatingly attractive, sexy man had been doing.

“Just curious.” Adrian placed the dinky cup down and stood up. He dominated the room, but for a big man there was nothing clumsy about him.

Luca stood too, their gazes locking. Adrian’s expression, as so often, was near impossible to interpret, yet if he let himself imagine, Luca might just detect the faintest hint of a smile in those full lips and watchful eyes.

The sudden, sharp ring from his mobile jolted Luca out of the thoughts he shouldn’t be having. Adrian jumped, too, and ran his fingers through his hair. Luca fumbled for his phone, sitting on his desk, almost dropping it in his haste.

“Alex.” Why the hell did he have to call now… thank Christ he just did… He looked over at Adrian and held up his hand for him to wait, but Adrian was already moving towards the door. “Sorry, Alex, just a sec.” He put the call on hold. He couldn’t let Adrian just slip out.

“Thank you, for returning the pen. I really do appreciate it.”

Adrian shrugged but his lips tipped into a smile. “Not a problem. See you. Luca.”

Luca…

And then Adrian was gone, leaving nothing behind but the faint impression of his earthy, woodsy cologne, the scent of the land, and the echo of his deep voice, saying Luca’s name.