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‘Yes.’ Roula nodded. ‘I thought it might prove an issue, and that is why I brought over the satellite phone...’
She held out a black bag and he took it and peered at the brick inside.
Good grief!
He took a very deep breath before attempting to explain the priority this was. ‘There is an announcement soon to be made and I need to be online for it. I have one hour before I have to head out to the beach and plaster this grin on again...’
‘I’m aware of the schedule, sir.’
He tried another angle. ‘I bet Costa’s villa has Internet access. I can guarantee it...’
‘You would have to discuss that with him. There are guest-to-guest calls, of course...’
‘Good,’ he clipped, and went to stalk off. ‘I’ll do that now!’
‘Yes,’ Roula said. ‘Why don’t you call the groom and his new bride and ask to drop in on them? I’m sure Costa would be delighted to help you resolve this urgent matter.’
That stopped him, but not for long as he pondered how long a post-wedding bonk might take. ‘How long do you think they’ll...?’
Roula halted his inappropriate question with the tiniest raise of her brows—it was a tactic she occasionally used with difficult guests and, sadly, Galen was fast becoming one.
‘Roula,’ he said very patiently, ‘Iknowthat the Internet can be turned on.’
‘It can’t.’
She shook her head and he watched as a long titian curl sprung forward and freed itself from its confines, like some old-fashioned jack-in-the-box.Surprise!And, like those old-fashioned boxes, the spring did not straighten out, and nor did it jump back. It draped, amber, gold and spent, across her cheek. Galen wanted to reach for her hair...he would like to pop that curl back, to tuck it in, and then for it to surprise him all over again.
‘Pardon?’ Galen said, because while watching her hair he had lost track of her words.
‘I said, even if you were the King of England, I could not give you a signal or Internet access. What Icando is give you the use of my office once the bridal party has moved down to the beach.’
‘How about now?’
‘I’m sorry.’ She shook her head, loose curl and all. ‘I’m sure you understand that the smooth running of the wedding has to remain my priority.’
He stood silent.
‘Is there anything else I can help you with?’ she asked.
‘Actually, yes. Didn’t you get the brief from my PA?’
‘The brief?’ she frowned. ‘Regarding...?’
‘Bed linen.’ Galen said. ‘I prefer plain.’
Roula looked past the columns to the sleeping chambers. The Temple Suite was beyond anything she had ever seen, and the very best of the luxurious retreat. It had its own vast internal pool, and beneath an incredible dome was a bed so high it looked like an altar—and it was dressed in the bespoke Temple Suite bedding: a pale velvet with averysubtle hand-embroidered star constellation.
And he was complaining!
‘I don’t believe I did get that.’ Roula gave a tight smile, trying to be diplomatic because she didn’t want his PA to be in trouble, but, no, ofcourseshe hadn’t got a brief! ‘I believe Costa arranged all the bookings.’
‘But I specifically messaged Kristina...’
‘I apologise for the oversight.’
Oh, Galen, Roula thought, her smile fading as she let herself out.How you’ve changed.
