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Lucia’s chin shot up. There was a distinct difference between working for and working with. She knew Luke would think so.
‘I don’t understand business, which is how I got myself into this mess in the first place,’ Margaret was busy explaining, ‘so I’d like you to be my caretaker-manager.’
‘Manage the Sundowner?’ Lucia exclaimed. ‘Have you spoken to Luke about this?’ She could already hear the thunderclaps approaching.
Margaret shrugged. ‘I still have some say. You’ll balance Luke out. You both believe in the Sundowner, and while you have the training and flair Luke can handle the financial side of things. In my eyes it’s the perfect partnership. I want you front of house, Lucia.’
‘Only until you feel ready to take over,’ Lucia said firmly. ‘Thank you,’ she added quietly. ‘I can’t tell you what it means to have your confidence.’
‘If you ask me, Lucia, people should have been placing their confidence in you a long time ago.’
Lucia laughed. ‘You’ve met my brothers. They don’t think I can tie my own shoelaces yet. But I won’t let you down.’
‘I don’t think for one moment you will, and as soon as Luke returns from London I’m going to tell him my decision.’
‘Luke’s in London?’ Lucia heard nothing else.
‘Some business he needed to look into, I think he said.’ Margaret shook her head. ‘I really don’t know,’ she said vaguely. ‘Why are you looking so worried, Lucia?’
‘No reason.’ But Lucia’s mind had started flying in all directions.
‘Why don’t you go into town and spoil yourself for a change?’ Margaret was suggesting. ‘Buy yourself a couple of suits in anticipation of the guest house opening?’
‘Go into town? Good idea,’ Lucia agreed distractedly, pulling herself round.
Her life was changing so rapidly it was hard to keep up. But she had to—though she doubted she could relax, as Margaret had suggested, for wondering what Luke was doing in London. Some sixth sense told her that whatever it was it wasn’t good.
As the tall, imposing individual emerged through the swing doors of the exclusive London hotel pedestrians shied away. Rather than step forward to ask if the man required a cab, the uniformed doorman stepped back.
Tugging off his heavy jacket, Luke tossed it into the back of the SUV, which he’d parked aggressively in a no-parking zone. Springing into the driver’s seat, he placed a call to Lucia’s brother in Argentina.
‘The problem’s sorted,’ he confirmed without expression.
He had tracked down the man he now knew had attacked Lucia, and had resolved the situation to his personal satisfaction. Cracking his knuckles, he gunned the engine and swung the
vehicle into the slow-moving London traffic. In a few hours’ time he would be back in Cornwall, and Lucia would be none the wiser.
He reorganised his diary on the way back to Cornwall. He wouldn’t be returning home right away, as originally planned. His business interests were well managed and could survive without him for a few more days. Whether she knew it or not, Lucia needed him—and that took precedence over everything. He was going to stay on at the Grand until the guest house project was up and running and he was sure she was okay. Learning what he had in London had convinced him that what Lucia Acosta needed was a guardian angel.
Though after today a dark angel might be a more fitting description, Luke concluded as his senses roared at the thought of seeing her again. So he was going to see Lucia again. No big deal.
Try telling that to his libido.
After a quick shower at the Grand he checked out the stubble situation. He badly needed to shave, but he was impatient to see Lucia again. He threw on a pair of jeans and while he was buckling the belt he thought about her. He thought about Lucia all the time. So what if she brought mayhem to his life? There was never a dull moment when they were together. And the thought that someone had hurt her …
Breaking through to Lucia was his next and most important project. She couldn’t shut out what had happened in London for ever. She mustn’t be allowed to. It would damage her.
Ruffling his hair in a token nod to grooming, he grabbed the phone when it rang and smiled as he checked the number.
‘Margaret.’ He strained to hear Lucia’s voice in the background, but he couldn’t make out what she was saying. ‘It’s never too late to eat, Margaret. Thanks for the invitation.’
The shave could definitely wait.
She was working her socks off in an attempt to forget Margaret had invited Luke for supper. Luke having mysterious business in London was something she preferred not to think about, so she’d chosen displacement activity instead. Where practical matters were concerned she already knew her strength lay in design and layout, and then in sourcing the right people to do the job, but today it felt as if she had more to prove.
Today it felt as if she had everything to prove.
It was the concierge effect chipping away at her self-confidence, Lucia suspected. Just hearing Luke was in London had brought it all back to her. Fortunately fate had played into her hands. While she was rooting around in the attic she’d found a bolt of fabric and a staple gun. A stool was a good place to start—nice and simple. And just think of the money they could save if she could upholster some of the stuff herself instead of sending it out. How hard could it be? Stool. Stuffing. Cut a template for the fabric …
