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He folded himself into the low bucket chair, his long legs stretched out in front of him, and Luce allowed herself to be distracted from how the man made a living. A more interesting question was how did he manage to look so comfortable, so relaxed, in a chair so clearly not designed for someone of his height or size? Luce couldn’t manage it, and the chair might have been made for her.
‘You look like you kept yourself occupied, anyway.’ He motioned at her list, and she winced.
‘Busy week. Time of the year.’ She started to close the cover of her organiser, but Ben’s hand slipped between the pages and pushed it open again.
‘Let’s see what’s keeping Dr Lucinda Myles so busy.’
Tugging the diary towards him, he flashed her a grin that made her middle glow a little, against her better judgement. She didn’t remember him being this damn attractive. His behaviour was unacceptably intrusive, an invasion of her privacy, and her ‘To Do’ list was absolutely none of his business. And yet she didn’t stop him. All because he had a wickedly attractive smile. Clearly she was losing her edge.
I need some time off. The thought was a familiar one, but Luce knew from past experience that nothing would come of it. Yes, some time to recharge her batteries—hell, even some time to focus on her book—would be beneficial. But when on earth would she ever find the time to make it happen?
Ben flipped through the list and gave a low whistle. ‘Conference, followed by what I imagine to be a long and tedious conference report, family dinner party on Christmas Eve, Christmas Day entertaining, house repairs, cat-sitting for your neighbour, university New Year’s Eve event, student evaluations, your actual day job. When were you planning on sleeping?’
‘I wasn’t.’ Luce took a long sip of her gin and tonic. ‘Especially since I still don’t have a bed for the night.’
‘I believe I offered you a solution to that particular problem.’ Ben slammed her organiser shut, but kept his hand on it. ‘In fact, after seeing your “To Do” list, I have an even better proposition.’
‘So you are propositioning me, then?’ Luce said, trying to sound accusing rather than amused. Or aroused. This was unacceptable behaviour—especially from the owner of a hotel. And she was not the sort of woman who had one-night stands in hotels just to get a bed for the night. However attractive the man. But part of her couldn’t help wondering if he’d be doing this if he didn’t remember her. Or, perhaps more likely, he’d never be doing this at all if he knew who she really was. Which is it?
Ben just smiled a lazy, seductive grin. ‘Were you ever really in any doubt? Now, do you want to hear this proposition or not?’
She shouldn’t. But her curious nature was what had led her into academia, into history, in the first place. She wanted to know what had happened, when and why. She couldn’t help but remember all those long, dull evenings staying in to study, until Ben and Mandy stumbled into the flat, ready to tell her everything she’d missed, their eyes pitying. She needed to know what it was Ben Hampton saw in her now to make him waste his time trying to seduce her. ‘Go on, then.’
‘Take the night off.’
Luce blinked. ‘That’s it?’
Folding his arms behind his head, Ben smirked. ‘It’s elegant in its simplicity.’
‘It’s not possible.’ Luce reached for her organiser, shaking her head. ‘I need to type up my notes from today, I need to talk to my brother about this dinner, and I need to—’
‘You need to slow down.’ Peeling her fingers from the cover of her diary, Ben picked it up and slipped it into the pocket of his jacket.
Luce lunged across the table to try to grab it, but she was too slow. ‘I need that. You can’t just—’
‘Trust me, it’s for the best.’ Luce glared at him, and he sighed. ‘Okay—tell you what. You listen to the rest of my plan, and if you honestly don’t think it sounds like a good idea I’ll give you your stupid planner back and you can go wander the streets of Chester looking for a hotel. All right?’
Even Luce had to admit that her options were a little limited. ‘All right. What’s the plan?’
‘A night off. With me. You put on your best party dress, let me take you out to dinner. You talk about yourself—not the things you’re supposed to be doing. You let me take responsibility for showing you a good time. You relax. We have a nightcap in my suite, and then you get a good night’s sleep.’
‘In my own room?’ Luce stamped down on the corner of her mind that was happily imagining what might happen if they were both in his room.
