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Bryce wore his wealth with graceful ease. He wasn’t one for grand displays. The watch had been a twenty first birthday gift from his parents, and the artisan shoes had come from a company bonus he’d received after successfully launching a new resort in Portugal some three years earlier.
Even the jet wasn’t something Bryce considered a luxury. Time was money and if he was able to work while on the plane and then land somewhere fresh and ready to do business, it was worth the cost to the company. His younger brother Matthew had a differing opinion on the subject and had been quietly pushing for the members of House Royal to find a greener way to travel.
Dressed and ready to meet Vivian for breakfast, Bryce picked up his cell. He stuffed the phone into his pocket, determined not to check his messages. He was on personal leave. Vivian was probably already downstairs at the buffet waiting impatiently for him and her first sip of sweet coffee.
Mustn’t keep her and our future waiting.
Reaching the door of his hotel room, his gaze landed on an envelope which had been pushed under it. He picked it up, noting the resort name which was printed on the front.
He hadn’t bothered to check in under an assumed name, so the management of Silver Havens had more than likely realized who Mister Bryce Royal was and had organized to send him a complimentary spa voucher or a free cocktail as a gesture of their goodwill.
“Thanks, but I don’t think I will have time to visit the day spa.”
He was about to toss it onto the nearby table and go catch up with Vivian when something told him it would be wise to stop and open it.
“Who knows, it might be important.”
Pulling the single piece of paper from out of the envelope Bryce took in the contents of the letter. The blood in his veins quickly turned to ice.
You can take your apology and shove it where the sun doesn’t shine. I should have figured you were up to something when you suddenly appeared on the beach, all smiles, and promises. Grace was right, you are a rat bastard.
What kind of an asshole kisses a girl while at the same time setting his wolfpack of company lawyers on the magazine she works for?
A Bryce Royal kind of asshole!!!
To think I wasted one of my favorite restaurants on you.
Don’t try to contact me ever again. If you do, I will take out a restraining order, and publish its details in the New York Times.
“What the devil? Who is suing…what?” He stared at the paper, reading it several times over while the words sank in. No one had said anything about suing Luxury Hotels and Resorts Worldwide. Edward had actually agreed that Vivian’s review was fair and balanced.
But she had to have got it from somewhere. Vivian wouldn’t make that sort of accusation up on her own. She had no reason.
He spun quickly on his heel and raced over to the table where his laptop sat. As soon as it fired up, Bryce clicked through to the one place he guessed might be able to give him some answers. The whisper column ofLeisure Line.
As soon as the site loaded, his gaze immediately landed on the article which was pinned to the top of the column.
Royal Resorts threatens to silence LHRW
Lawyers for Royal Resorts USA demand apology and full retraction
He skimmed the rest of the article, swearing as he read. “Fuck. Fuck.” His heart was racing. “Ok, ok. Calm down.” This had to be a misunderstanding. A simple case of crossed wires that would take only a phone call or two to rectify. He pulled his cell out of his pocket, then glanced at the door. Did he call his father, or go find Vivian?
The urge to reassure her that it was all a mistake won out. Bryce ran from the villa, through the gardens, and to the breakfast buffet. Vivian was nowhere to be seen.
Of course she isn’t here. You don’t think she would be sitting sipping a bloody frappé waiting for you to come and find her.
He made for the bank of elevators. Fists clenched, he mentally urged the next one to arrive. When the doors finally opened, he stepped aside waiting with gritted teeth while a group of other guests leisurely ambled out. They were busy chatting about breakfast and their plans for the day.
Bryce’s plans had gone out the window. All he could think about was finding Vivian. It was only when his finger hovered over the row of elevator buttons, that he came to a sudden stop.
Shit. I don’t know which floor or room she is in.
The elevator door beeped in warning. With a resigned sigh Bryce stepped out and back into the lobby. How was he going to find Vivian?
He was tempted to call the New York office and beg Mia to give him Vivian’s number. But in doing so, he would be forced to admit he had yet again screwed up when it came to her friend. That was not the sort of thing he wanted to have his team knowing about, especially not when he was about to become their boss. There had to be another way.
Think. Reception won’t tell me, they are paid to protect the privacy of their guests. And so they should.
