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The Christmas Inn
Stella MacLean
As a favor to her brother, Marnie McLaughlan has agreed to spend Christmas at the lovely Mirabel Inn–as a mystery guest. But Marnie knows this favor is bound to be complicated because the owners need a confidential report immediately. Marnie's impressions could affect their decision to sell.From the outset, the inn is not what she expects…and neither is the manager, Luke Harrison. She quickly develops a rapport with this very attractive widower and his adorable little boy. He knows something is up, yet she can't tell him that the inn–which is home to Luke and his son–is in danger. Marnie's torn between her obligation to her brother and her growing love for Luke. Fortunately, things have a way of working out at Christmas!


There’s room at the inn…but maybe not for long!
As a favor to her brother, Marnie McLaughlan has agreed to spend Christmas at the lovely Mirabel Inn—as a mystery guest. But Marnie knows this favor is bound to be complicated because the owners need a confidential report immediately. Marnie’s impressions could affect their decision to sell.
From the outset, the inn is not what she expects…and neither is the manager, Luke Harrison. She quickly develops a rapport with this very attractive widower and his adorable little boy. He knows something is up, yet she can’t tell him that the inn—which is home to Luke and his son—is in danger. Marnie’s torn between her obligation to her brother and her growing love for Luke. Fortunately, things have a way of working out at Christmas!
Luke sat at his desk, staring at Marnie McLaughlan’s reservation
It was made out to a Mr. and Mrs. Scott McLaughlan, and yet she’d shown up here alone…and without a wedding ring. Where was Mr. McLaughlan? Amanda at the front desk said he’d been very friendly on the phone and so disappointed when they didn’t have a vacancy that she’d offered him the room on the top floor. But why hadn’t he arrived with Marnie if he was so anxious to come here?
Luke tapped the desk, his mind running over the possibilities.
His concerns aside, he’d been surprised to find his son, Ethan, hanging off the woman’s leg when he got to the front of the house, but she seemed to take it in stride. What could have been an embarrassing situation had turned into a pleasant interlude with a beautiful woman. And with her heart-shaped face framed by dark curls and her well-toned body, Marnie McLaughlan was gorgeous and sexy….
Her husband probably planned to arrive later, a simple enough explanation, and Luke hadn’t given her much opportunity to explain why they hadn’t arrived together. He would simply come up with a diplomatic way to find out when her husband was going to join her. It was essential that there be no disruptions during the inn’s Christmas event for couples, and a woman as beautiful as Marnie McLaughlan could prove to be a serious disruption…
Dear Reader,
Christmas is my favorite time of year. I love nothing better than to root around in my dozens of boxes of Christmas decorations, digging out all the ornaments, lights, wreaths and mantel decorations needed for every room. Each year my husband and I decorate two fir trees in our home, simply to be able to breathe in the scent unique to evergreens. Christmas for me is both a happy time with my family and also a sad time, as I recall one very lonely Christmas during which I spent hours caring for my sister Elizabeth as she made her graceful exit from this world.
This book is also based on my experience as a mystery guest for a hotel chain near my hometown. Being a mystery guest is a lot like living in a parallel universe, as you will see in The Christmas Inn.
But most of all, this story is about a man who’s surrounded by a self-made wall of loneliness and the inability to forgive, and a woman who has to overcome her fear of rejection to find that common ground called love.
I believe that inside each of us is a Luke or a Marnie waiting to be rescued from our insecurities and fears to find the one person who makes life truly worthwhile.
Please enjoy The Christmas Inn, and stay in touch by visiting my website, www.stellamaclean.com (http://www.stellamaclean.com).
Thank you, and may your Christmas season be filled with love, hope and the spirit of giving.
Sincerely,
Stella MacLean
The Christmas Inn
Stella MacLean

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Stella MacLean has spent her life collecting story ideas, waiting for the day someone would want to read about the characters who have lurked in her heart and mind for so many years. Stella’s love of reading and writing began in grade school and has continued to play a major role in her life. A longtime member of Romance Writers of America and a Golden Heart finalist, Stella enjoys the hours she spends tucked away in her office with her Maine coon cat, Emma Jean, and her imaginary friends while writing stories about love, life and happiness.
Books by Stella MacLean
HARLEQUIN SUPERROMANCE
1487—HEART OF MY HEART
1553—BABY IN HER ARMS
1655—A CHILD CHANGES EVERYTHING
Other titles by this author available in ebook format.
This book is dedicated to all those people who serve the public as members of the hospitality industry. Thank you for being there and making the lives of people like me more enjoyable.
And thank you to Sharon Allaby, friend, reader and fabulous cook.
Contents
Chapter One (#ubbe64c36-036a-5d58-b7f6-0213a3753344)
Chapter Two (#u0d200e1e-0cc0-5864-896d-1a4e39e0f789)
Chapter Three (#ueba9c79d-66e2-5705-9a6d-50c617cb2e3b)
Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Excerpt (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE
ELEVEN DAYS UNTIL CHRISTMAS and Marnie McLaughlan hadn’t finished her shopping, but that was the least of her worries. She eased open the back door of the salon. The only sounds were the comforting hum of the refrigerator in the staff room and the clacking of a keyboard in the office to her right. She waited for the familiar click telling her the door had locked behind her before she headed for the office.
This was the day she’d wished for and worried over.
She was about to sell her half interest in Total Elegance, the hair-and-aesthetics salon she and her partner, Shane Walker, had co-owned for the past ten years. Her brothers, the superachiever foursome, would jump out of their jock straps if they knew she was in the process of selling her part of the business without their input. She had come in today to get her copy of the agreement to go over with her lawyer before signing. She was quite proud of the fact that her brothers wouldn’t be involved. Their best-before date as inquisitive overseers had long since passed.
At the door of the office she had shared with Shane through all the growing pains of their business she hesitated. This was it. She would read the agreement one more time, then take it to her lawyer. She took a deep breath and tapped lightly. He glanced up, his spiked mullet bobbing like a rooster’s comb as he stood to greet her. “Hey, great to see you,” he said, all brightness and light. Marnie had only one wish where her soon-to-be-ex-partner was concerned. She’d like him to change his hairstyle. When she first met him he’d styled his dark hair to frame his face, softening his angular features, and now the vertical spike of hair only made his nose appear longer, his chin more pointed. Worst of all, his haircut made him look dated.
It was a word that everyone who was anyone in the beauty industry hated to hear, and Marnie didn’t have the heart to tell him. Then again, maybe he knew and just didn’t care. But why should she worry about it, anyway? In mere weeks, she’d be able to put Shane’s hair, and all the other issues that came with running a salon, out of her mind. “Freedom thirty-five,” she’d dubbed her decision.
“It’s great to see you, too,” she said, crossing the narrow space and sitting down in what passed for the guest chair—a warped, plastic lawn chair she’d pilfered from her parents’ garage.
“So, are we ready to sign?” he inquired, his eyebrows doing an odd dance over his forehead, a rather peculiar move for a man, and one that had left questions in the minds of some of their patrons as to his sexual orientation. But those in doubt didn’t know Shane’s history where women were concerned. He was a consummate professional at work and a regular tomcat at night—that is until a particularly clever feline had put an end to his roaming ways.
Her name was Gina, and Shane planned to marry her, which was why he’d offered to buy Marnie’s half of the business. Gina, it turned out, was also a hairdresser and she and Shane were working on more than marriage plans.
“Slow down, Shane. Like I told you yesterday, I want my lawyer to read it before I sign.” She reached for the document, intending to pop it into her oversized bag.
“Sorry. It’s just that I’m so anxious, you know. God!” He sandwiched his head between his hands. “I’ve never felt like this before! We’ll be celebrating our three-month anniversary in a week, can you believe that?” he asked, giving her the same wide-eyed look she’d seen at least a dozen times a day for the past few months.
If he launched into yet another of his long-winded sagas about the wonders of love at first sight, about his plans for marriage and a future with the soon-to-be Gina Walker, she was going to have to slap him. She’d never slapped anyone except her brother Scott for telling Andy Capson she wanted to go out with him. But if Shane didn’t stop talking about how great love felt, how happy he was… As far as Marnie was concerned, love was nothing more than a word in the dictionary somewhere between lovat—a tweed of muted green—and low—inferior or depressed.
All the boyfriends she’d had to date could be slotted into one of two categories: they either had issues around commitment, or they bordered on being illiterate. And if that wasn’t bad enough, they’d all turned out to be liars. Every man with whom she’d had a relationship had been dishonest in one way or another.
“Your three-month anniversary?” she repeated idly, as she skimmed the opening paragraphs of the sales agreement, glad to see the main terms of the agreement in writing, especially the financial ones. There was a non-competition clause, restricting her from opening a salon in the city, which was fine with her.
Shane put his hand on her shoulder. “Look, take your time and read through carefully, but I would like to have it all settled before Christmas. Is that possible?”
She looked up from the document as she considered what he’d said. As much as she loved the business, she’d often wished for something more. She was a good manager, and she wanted a bigger challenge in her life, but he hadn’t considered acting on her discontent until Gina had started at the salon. The unfortunate truth was that she couldn’t work with the woman. She was bossy and overbearing.
Marnie hadn’t busted her butt for ten years to end up taking orders from a woman whose only qualification, other than that of hairdresser, was that she had snagged the other owner. And with the cash from the buyout Marnie would be able to start a different business. She didn’t know what yet, but she’d figure it out. All she needed was a little time.
“Before Christmas? I don’t see why that should be a problem,” she said.
“Great. I’ll go out and put the coffee on so we can have a cup to celebrate. I brought a bag of these special beans Gina loves. They’re from Costa Rica. I’ll go grind them and be right back. Do you want a cappuccino? Or just regular?”
“Why don’t we splurge and have a cappuccino?”
He winked at her and smiled the goofy smile he’d recently acquired. “You got it.”
After he left, Marnie skipped through the legalese to the important parts of the agreement, and made sure they said what Shane had promised.
She sat back and let her gaze move around the office, remembering the long hours she’d spent there, the worries she and Shane had had over the finances, whether they’d be able to grow their client list and hire the best hairdressers. But most of all she remembered the sense of accomplishment she’d felt when she and Shane had been written up in one of the local magazines, commended for their successful partnership. And now, as she faced the fact that this would all be over in a few weeks, she felt a sudden pang of longing.
For ten years she’d lived and breathed Total Elegance. She’d borrowed her share of the start-up money, and then prayed that the salon would be enough of a success to pay off her loan. It was and she had. She’d proven to her family that she could succeed on her own terms, and it felt so good.
Marnie swallowed against the hard lump in her throat. This was not the time for tears. She and Shane had had a good ride, but it would be fun to spend a few weeks considering her next venture, sleeping in until noon, shopping when she felt like it.
Shane reappeared with two mugs in his hands, and with what had become his signature wide-body smile, only to come to a dead halt. “Hey, Marnie, is something wrong?”
His words startled her. “No. Nothing. Why?”
He passed her a cup with her usual two teaspoons of sugar and went to sit behind the desk, placing his mug on a coaster Marnie’s mother had crocheted for the office—to give it a homey touch, as she’d put it. “For a minute, I thought I’d left something out of the agreement,” he said, hefting his size-twelve shoes up onto the corner of the desk.
“Not at all.” She took a sip of her coffee, letting the aroma infiltrate her nostrils while the caffeine hot-wired her mind.
“Well, what do you think? Is it all right?”
“I’m sure it is.... I’ll miss this place.”
“I know you will, honey. If you’d like to work in the salon until you decide on a new career, that’s fine by me,” he offered, his words holding the nuance of a man who just realized that he should run the idea past his woman.
“Thanks. I appreciate it,” she said. “But I think I’m going to concentrate on what I want to do next.”
“Have you considered going back to university?”
Having flunked her first year, she didn’t intend on repeating the experience. Besides, she didn’t want to waste her hard-earned cash on learning things she’d never use. She was far too practical. Of course, not having made up her mind about her future would mean she’d have to sit through the next dozen or so family dinners, and be subjected to all sorts of unwanted advice.
“School isn’t for me, at least not right—” A loud banging sound interrupted her.
“Someone’s at the back door at this hour of the morning?” Shane asked, a frown on his face.
“I’ll go and see,” Marnie said, hopping up from her chair and heading out back. Deliveries didn’t start until 9:00 a.m., and there was little chance that any of the staff would appear ahead of their shift. She peeked through the little hole in the middle of the door.
“No!” she moaned. Turning, she braced her back against the hard surface. She would unlock the door and let her nuisance of a brother into the salon when pigs wore roller skates. Scott couldn’t be certain she was there, and besides, even if he persisted in banging on the door, she wasn’t going to answer.
“Marnie. I know you’re in there, and we need to talk.”
* * *
LUKE HARRISON HAD ZERO interest in Christmas. As far as he was concerned it was everyone’s excuse to run up bills they couldn’t pay, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t excited for other people and for all the planning that came with the season.
As of today, The Mirabel Inn was fully booked for what he and his staff had named the Christmas Getaway Event. The event had been designed for married couples who didn’t have family plans or who had finally decided to skip the Christmas madness, and simply have a quiet, elegant holiday by themselves. He’d done it on a smaller scale last Christmas but had run into problems when other guests booked into the inn who weren’t part of the program—one of the single women had flirted with one of the married men, resulting in the wife packing up and leaving. A messy, uncomfortable situation he didn’t want to have repeated this year.
This year the event included five days—three before Christmas, plus Christmas Day and the twenty-sixth. It had taken months to put together a good marketing campaign, but it had paid off. The only room left in the inn was a small one, with a double bed, that was earmarked for renovation, making it into an office for the housekeeper Mary Cunningham.
He’d been up since six that morning, thanks to his four-year-old son, Ethan, who’d been promised a chance to help decorate the huge balsam fir that was presently being strung with lights in preparation for a tree-trimming party. The staff and their families had been invited to a luncheon due to start at noon, after the tree trimming, a party to show appreciation for the staff of the inn. Luke, as the manager, had to be there to kick off the celebration. It was important to hold this party before the getaway event began as many of the staff would be working throughout the holidays.
Despite his aversion to Christmas, Luke enjoyed this event because he got a chance to give back to the staff and their families whose support was important to the success of the inn. The lunch buffet would be set up in the glassed-in patio along the south side of the two-hundred-year-old inn. The chef, Max Anderson, was making lobster quiche, this year’s special dish, along with the usual turkey, ham and all the vegetables, rolls and condiments people enjoyed as part of the Christmas festivities. Family members of the staff, who liked to bake, provided the desserts, showcasing the recipes of some of the best bakers in the region.
Tidying the cost projections report he’d been reading at his desk, he placed it on top the pile, intending to work on it later. When Luke had first come to work at The Mirabel Inn, he’d gotten rid of the stark furnishings in the office and added his own touches along with state-of-the-art computers to assist in managing the inn. But his favorite piece in the office was an antique oak desk with hidden drawers, pigeonholes and a roll-up top, a special gift from his grandfather. Grant Harrison had left the desk to him in his will, and now it was a part of his life. A daily reminder of his grandfather, who had owned one of the largest inns in Connecticut years before.
He was closing his computer when someone knocked on the door. Before he could answer, Mary Cunningham opened the door and Ethan rushed in behind her.
“Well, hello there, big guy,” Luke said, getting up from his desk in time to catch Ethan in his arms.
“Daddy!” the little boy yelled, a red-and-green cap balanced precariously on his head.
“Where did you get the elf hat?” Luke asked. Scooping Ethan up and holding him close, he breathed in his scent—usually a mixture of dirt from playing with his dump trucks in the garden plot next to the back patio, and sweat from racing around the property. But today there was just a hint of cinnamon, enhanced by frosting smudges on his cheeks, which meant Ethan had been in the kitchen driving the pastry cook crazy with his questions and his pleas for more sweets.
“Mary gived it to me,” Ethan said, triumphantly.
Luke had planned to spend the day with his son, but an urgent call from the owners of the inn had meant he’d been forced to work on cost figures this morning. He was proud of his management of the inn, which was located only a few miles from some of the best skiing in the eastern United States.
Digging a tissue from his pocket, he wiped the frosting off Ethan’s cheeks. “Hope he hasn’t been too much trouble.”
Mary smiled, a warm smile that had been so welcome in those early months after Anna’s death in a car accident. She’d been the mother figure to a one-year-old toddler who had no comprehension of why his mommy had left, only that she was gone from his life. Mary had helped both his son and him through the proceeding months of agony and loss, and her generous support and advice had held Luke’s life together during a very difficult time.
“Evelyn and Ethan made a batch of sugar cookies with Santa faces on them for the children who are coming.”
“How many cookies did you eat, Ethan?” he asked.
The boy grinned and held up five fingers.
“You didn’t! Did you share them with anyone?”
Mary laughed. “Henry probably has a tummy ache. I put him in his crate in your apartment. It seemed safer that way.”
Henry was a stray part-terrier, part-spaniel that had arrived at the inn on one of the coldest nights in January last year. Henry and Ethan had been constant companions since that frozen evening. “Great. We don’t need a four-footed tree trimmer joining the excitement.”
“Daddy, I patted the branches of the tree.”
“You patted them?” He glanced at Mary.
“Yep. He patted the tree and helped open the boxes of ornaments.”
“I found a red bulb this big,” Ethan said, opening his arms wide and grinning at his father.
“Wow! You’ve been busy,” he said, reveling in the joy of his son’s face. The past three years since his wife’s death had been the hardest of his life. Each morning he woke to the fact that Anna wouldn’t be there to share the day, to see their son grow into a young man, to face each moment with her inexhaustible enthusiasm. In those early weeks after her death, he sleepwalked through each meaningless day. His only connection to the world around him was Ethan. All those lonely months had been made bearable by the presence of his little boy.
But there was a part of him that couldn’t forgive his wife’s reckless behavior. She’d insisted on driving to Boston to do some last-minute Christmas shopping and hadn’t heeded his warning to stay there until the ice storm had passed and the roads had been cleared. As much as he tried, it had been hard for him to understand how she could have acted the way she did, knowing the risks involved. The kind statements from their friends about how Anna did what she thought best were drowned out by the heartbreak of life without her.
“Are we ready to start trimming the tree?” Mary asked, reaching for Ethan.
Luke hugged his son before putting him down. “Don’t know about you, but it will be the bright spot in my morning.”
Ethan nodded so vigorously his elf hat fell off, and he raced from the room.
“Where does he get the energy?” Luke asked.
“Kid power is what I call it.” Mary chuckled as she rescued the hat. “And I should know.”
“By the way, how’s Troy doing at college?”
“Not bad for his first term. Better than his sister and brother did. Peter and I were figuring out the amount of free cash we’ll have once Troy is out of school. We’ll be living well, let me tell you,” she said, a smile spreading across her round face.
Luke had never thought that far ahead: he’d been too busy keeping his life on an even keel and working long hours at the inn. Because of the good friends he’d made since he’d come to work at the inn, he wanted to stay on there for the long term, and maybe someday own an inn like his grandfather had. Owning an inn was not the career his parents had dreamed of for their only child. His father had wanted him to get a law degree and become a partner in his law firm—a profession Luke had no interest in, despite his father’s love for it.
“I’m sorry your parents can’t come for Christmas this year. Ethan is growing up so fast, and Christmas is all about children.”
“I am, too, but it seems they have a prior commitment to spend Christmas with friends in Australia.”
It hurt to say those words, words that only increased the disconnect he felt where his parents were concerned. He’d tried to get them to be more involved in Ethan’s life, and they’d made promises they hadn’t kept. And now with it being Christmas…
“The FedEx truck will be here tomorrow,” Mary said, as if she were reading his thoughts. But in all honesty, it would shock him if his parents had the foresight to send a Christmas gift to their only grandchild.
“We’d better get out there before Ethan hangs all the ornaments on one branch,” he said, remembering last Christmas when he’d let his son decorate a small tree for their apartment, and Ethan had hooked every ornament on a branch near the bottom of the tree. Luke had left it that way and had emailed several photos of Ethan’s efforts to his parents in Hong Kong.
They walked together to the front hall, where a throng of inn guests and local residents had already gathered around the tree. A group of carolers from Wakesfield had arrived to provide the entertainment, filling the large entry hall with familiar Christmas songs. Luke made his way through the crowd to the tree where Ethan was attempting to string a garland of colored popcorn onto a branch. “Hey! Don’t pull the tree over,” Luke warned, kneeling to help him.
“Daddy, I love popcorn,” he whispered, bringing the strand to his mouth. “Want some?”
“You can’t eat that. It’s a decoration for the tree.”
Ethan’s lips formed a pout. “I’m hungry.”
“You can’t be.”
Ethan ignored him as he pulled on the strand of popcorn.
“Here, let me help,” Luke said, following the string down past Ethan’s feet to a spot under the bottom of the tree where it had become entangled. Reaching in, he freed it, and then lifted Ethan so he could place the garland on the outer tips of the branches.
The people standing around the tree clapped, and Ethan smiled as he hugged his father’s neck. Balancing his son in his arms, Luke finished stringing the popcorn on the tree.
The group gathered closer as they all joined in decorating the tree. Several of the men took turns hoisting Ethan up so he could reach the higher branches. Everyone was intent on decorating the huge tree, reminding Luke once again how lucky he was to have this extended family as part of his life for the past eight years.
The sense of family and being together for the holiday season caused a lump to form in Luke’s throat. It wasn’t that he disliked Christmas as much as the idea that his son would never remember a Christmas that included his mother.
But he couldn’t focus on the past, especially with so much riding on the next few weeks. He’d heard rumors from other managers of hotels and inns owned by Advantage Corporation that the CEO, Angus McAndrew, and his management team were looking at all their resort holdings with an eye to selling some of their properties. He hoped the rumor wasn’t true, but he knew better than to think that they’d be concerned with what he believed or how he felt.
Still, it was worrisome because he’d worked for Advantage for years, starting at a smaller inn and then being promoted to manager of The Mirabel. Right now, with Ethan finally happy and content once again, he didn’t look forward to any change that would affect his son’s life, not to mention his own. If Advantage chose to sell this inn, they would probably offer him a job somewhere, but if they decided that his performance wasn’t up to their standards or they didn’t have a position to offer him, he could end up looking for a job with another organization. In either case it would mean a different location and a new place to live. For now, he didn’t want to consider the impact it would have on them. He just wanted to watch his son enjoy the festivities that would kick off the Christmas season.
“Up, Daddy,” Ethan demanded, a large angel dangling from his fingers as he held his arms up to his father.
“An angel wants to put an angel on the tree,” Mary said over the din created by the crowd.
And Ethan was an angel—the baby he and Anna had dreamed of and waited years for. “Okay, Ethan, let’s see you hang this ornament,” he said, holding his son aloft as he leaned into the branches to hang the angel near the center of the tree. The staff had already placed a huge lighted star on top. Luke stepped back with Ethan still held high in his arms.
“This is probably the nicest tree we’ve ever had at the inn,” Mary mused, as they all gazed up into the tree.
* * *
STILL KEEPING THE DOOR CLOSED against her brother, Marnie considered her options. How had he known she was in here? Knowing him, he would’ve driven by her house, then over here and found her car in the parking lot. Had he discovered her plan to sell?
Scott was the last person she wanted to see right now. He’d rant on and on about how she was making a huge decision without seeking the family’s advice first. The unspoken issue was that Marnie McLaughlan, the youngest member of the McLaughlan clan, wasn’t allowed to make any changes in her life without their involvement.
“Go away, Scott,” she yelled through the door. “I’m not doing anything that concerns you.”
“Marnie, listen to me. Mom is all worked up over Christmas and worried about you. You know what she’s like,” he said.
Her mother loved the holidays; she relied on Marnie’s support for whatever scheme she had in the works. This year she planned to have Santa arrive complete with sleigh and elves, which meant that Marnie had to be there to act as Mrs. Claus, a role she’d flat-out refused, much to her mother’s chagrin. The problem with Eleanor’s party schemes was that they always seemed to involve an unattached male—usually the temporarily single son of one of her mother’s bridge-playing friends—with whom she’d be forced to socialize. “I’m well aware of our mother’s ability to be a drama queen.”
“Not fair, Marnie. Mom has always had your best interests at heart.”
Right. Good old Mom, not to mention good old Dad and my four good old brothers.
How she’d like to snap her fingers and have Scott disappear. But Scott’s Velcro tendencies were legendary once he decided to become involved in something. He beat a tattoo on the door, making her clap her hands to her ears.
If, just once, her family could see her for what she was rather than what she wasn’t, her life would be so much easier. Reluctantly she turned the lock, opened the door and forced a smile. “What brought you here so early this morning?”
“I heard that you were selling your half of the business.”
“Who told you?”
“Dad heard about it through some friend at the Elks Club—a friend of a friend of a woman named Gina something or other. Is it true?”
“I’m not going to change my mind.”
Dressed in his uniform of an immaculately tailored dark suit, silk tie chosen to match the tiny thread of magenta woven into the suit fabric, Scott gave her a persuasive smile—the one he usually saved for his marketing clients—as he stepped past her into the tiny office.
“Hello, Shane, it’s great to see you, and I hear that congratulations are in order.” Scott was about to plunk himself down in the lawn chair, took a closer look and reconsidered.
As Shane launched into the story about how he met his new love, and soon-to-be new partner, Marnie leaned back against the wall and enjoyed the look on Scott’s face. Her brother had problems with any conversation he didn’t control. Scott wasn’t mean. He was constantly thinking ahead to the next step in his plans, and thus he didn’t have much patience for small talk. Not surprisingly, it didn’t take him long to interrupt Shane and ask a couple of pointed questions concerning the contract.
“Shane, you don’t have to answer,” she said hurriedly, wanting to block Scott’s interrogation of her friend.
Shane closed his mouth and sank his neck into his turtleneck. “That’s right, I don’t,” he confirmed, his eyebrows rising to meet his hairline.
“Shane, would you excuse my sister and me for a couple of minutes?”
With an expression of resignation Shane rose from the chair. “I’ll be in the salon going over the renovation plans,” he said, giving Marnie his “chin up, kid” smile as he walked past her out the door.
“You have yet to sign, and he’s already going over plans?” Scott asked, disbelief evident in his tone.
“They’re old blueprints Shane and I had considered a couple of years ago. He and Gina are going to revisit them and see if they’re feasible for the expansion they want to make.”
“This Gina person is certainly moving fast.”
“That’s their business, not mine. What’s the family’s problem with me selling to Shane?”
Scott scooped up the agreement Marnie had carelessly left lying on the desk and took his time reading it before he answered. “We want to be sure you’re being paid fair market value for the business and this building. And that Shane hasn’t slipped in a noncompetition clause that would stop you from working as a hairdresser once you leave here,” he muttered. “What’s this?” he asked, pointing at the page.
“What?” she asked, refusing to glance at the page.
“You can’t work in Boston as a hairdresser?”
“We agreed it was only fair. My client list and the goodwill I’ve built up in the city are part of what he’s buying beyond the physical assets,” she said, exasperated with Scott’s attitude.
“Marnie, I’m your brother, and I don’t want—”
“Scott, will you leave it alone?” she said, struggling to remain calm. After all, her brother did have his good qualities; the problem was she couldn’t remember any of them at the moment.
Still clutching the agreement, Scott leaned against the ancient file cabinet in the corner. “Okay, you take this to your lawyer, and you sign it. What happens the day after you sign? What are you going to do with your life?”
“Run away to the south seas? Go on safari for a few weeks?”
“Get serious. You must have a plan.”
“I’m working on that. Please tell Mom not to worry,” she said, thankful that he was still concentrating on the agreement and couldn’t see the uncertainty in her eyes. Her family always looked for reasons to freak out over what she was doing and how she was doing it. She understood their concern in the beginning. Two major surgeries she’d had to undergo, one when she was eight to fix a heart defect and one when she had a serious car accident fifteen years ago, had given her family reason to worry. But not anymore.
Scott placed the document on the desk before turning his intense gaze on her. “Tell you what. Angus McAndrew, the CEO of Advantage, you remember him, don’t you?”
Scott once worked for Advantage Corporation in their PR department. “He’s the guy who got me in to see that superrenowned orthopedic surgeon in New York after my car accident.”
“Our family owes Angus a lot. I’m convinced that without his help, you wouldn’t have had such a complete recovery.” He smiled down at her, warmth showing in his eyes. “Even though I left his company to start my own business, he and I have stayed in touch. He has a property in the Berkshires, The Mirabel Inn, and he’s going to put it up for sale. But before he does, he needs a business survey of the region, which one of my staff is working on, and he wants to know that the inn has no operational issues that could derail the sale. He’s asked me to hire a mystery guest right away as he has a potential buyer for the inn and he wants to make the kind of pitch the purchaser can’t resist. You’ll work the three days prior to Christmas, all expenses paid. All you have to do is fill out a bunch of forms. Shouldn’t be too stressful,” he said.
Ever since her car accident fifteen years ago and her difficulties with her rehabilitation, her family had kept a close eye on her. In those first months after the accident, she had desperately needed their help and support. Now, years later, it felt more like they simply wanted to run her life. “Why do it right before Christmas? A mystery guest? What does that mean?”
“Angus is a perfectionist, and he leaves nothing to chance. He’s also very driven, and when he wants something, he goes after it. If he wants to sell this property he’ll do it Christmas Day if he has to. As for being a mystery guest, it means you behave like a regular guest, and the management doesn’t know who you are or what you’re doing there. Meanwhile, you collect information for me on how the inn functions, based on questionnaires the company will provide. Before you leave here, I’ll give you the questionnaires so you can read them over to know what aspects of the inn to evaluate. Once you’ve completed an area, such as the spa or the bar, for instance, you enter your responses online, and then email them to me on a daily basis. I’ll take care of the rest. I’ll be in touch with you each day to see how you’re making out with the survey, and we’ll take it from there.”
“I don’t like sneaking around, trying to get proof that someone isn’t doing something right. Besides, why would I want to go north where it’s cold and I don’t know anyone?”
“Because you need time to think before you sign this agreement.”
“I can sign my agreement without going off alone to someplace cold first,” she said, feeling she’d got him on this one. “I don’t need to go away to think about my future.”
“Well, I need you to think about my future and the future success of my company. Angus McAndrew is offering my firm a chance to do work for him, based on how well I handle this project, and how quickly. I need your help.”
She blinked. “My help? Why me? You must have dozens of people you could order to go to the Berkshires.”
He peered at his hands for a couple of minutes. “Peanut, you’re the one person I know who has the expertise to evaluate the inn’s hotel operations and its spa on such short notice.”
Scott must really need her help if he was using the old nickname he’d given her when she was a kid with a leaky heart valve. He’d been so sweet to her back then. She had to admit that with his drive and encouragement her recovery had actually been kind of pleasant. He’d been so good to her, so full of fun ideas to help her forget that she’d just been through major surgery. She owed it to Scott to help him.
“Okay,” she said “But there are conditions.”
“Name them.” He eyed his cell phone.
If she stayed at this inn, she’d be free of all the family pressures involved in getting ready for Christmas. That alone would be fantastic. But there was another equally attractive reason to do it. Despite what she’d said to Scott, she did need to escape for a little while. She’d put so much effort into proving that she could run a successful business that she’d neglected herself in the process. Thanks to her brother she was being handed an opportunity to relax and evaluate her life.
“I want you to tell Mom and the rest of the family that you’ve sent me on an urgent assignment, and I won’t be back until Christmas.”
“What? Mom won’t believe that.”
“Why? It’s the truth.”
With an exaggerated sigh, he said, “Yeah, but I was hoping you’d do the explaining.”
“I’m working for you—you can deliver the news. All I want is a few days of peace and quiet away from the McLaughlan family, and that includes Mom. Agreed?”
He squinted at her. “You’re sure that’s all?”
“If you can pull it off.”
“Of course I can.”
“You’re going to keep Mom, Dad, Liam, Gordon and Alex off my case for the entire four days that I’m away doing this job for you?” she asked.
“I will, but you’d better turn off your cell phone or I can’t be held responsible.”
“I’ll manage my cell phone if you promise me that Mom won’t follow me to the inn.”
“Nothing would drag Mom away from her kitchen this close to Christmas.” He patted her on the head. “I promise to keep everyone out of your life for four full days.”
“Which four days?”
“Okay, you’ll arrive there on December 21st, and do your survey work December 22nd, 23rd and 24th, getting back here as early as you can on the 24th.”
“That close to Christmas?”
Scott shrugged. “Afraid so.”
“Angus McAndrew doesn’t celebrate Christmas?”
“He does, but it seems that this deal is very important to him, and he hopes to have it to bed by the New Year. That means he needs the results Christmas week.”
“If you say so.”
“I do, and I wouldn’t be asking you to do this, but I need someone I can trust completely.”
He brother trusted her and needed her, and she really owed him a lot. “Okay, I’ll go to your precious inn.”
“And you have to keep everything confidential. You can’t tell anyone at the inn that you’re doing this, and under no circumstances are you to tell anyone that the inn is about to be sold. Understood?”
She gave him a snappy salute. “Aye, Captain.”
He wrapped her in a bear hug. “Thanks, Peanut.”
“And there’s something else.”
He looked at her as if she were a flawed business proposal. “Let’s hear it.”
“Stop calling me Peanut.”
His jaw worked, he frowned and rubbed his cheek. “Won’t happen again.”
CHAPTER TWO
A WEEK LATER JULIE CRAWFORD, Marnie’s best friend and Lady Gaga look-alike, sat on the foot of the bed while Marnie packed her bag for the trip to Wakesfield. “What do I tell your mother when she calls? I really like her, and this doesn’t seem fair.”
Marnie rubbed her forehead in consternation. “Probably not, but I don’t know what else to do. It’s like this every Christmas. I’ve joked about running away from home at Christmas so many times, only this time it’s going to be true.”
“Can you talk to her about how you feel?”
“I’ve tried, but each time, I end up giving in, mostly because I don’t have a reason not to go along with her plans. This year I have, and I need to get away for a bit. This whole negotiation thing has been a lot more stressful that I expected.”
“Still…”
“Tell her that you can’t reach me, which will be true since I’m turning off my cell, letting my calls go to voice mail, and only turning it on when I need it.”
“You’re really not going to talk to her?” Julie gaped.
Marnie sighed. “Don’t worry. I’ll call her eventually.”
“So while you’re off for a restful few days in the mountains, I’m left to deal with Gina. If she tells me one more time about her matching wedding band to go with her square cut diamond—” Julie pulled a thick blond curl from behind her ear and examined it for split ends. “She’s already acting like she owns the place and you haven’t even signed the agreement yet.”
Hearing the despair in her friend’s voice, Marnie sat down next to Julie. “I know how hard it is for you to watch what’s going on with Shane.”
“I know you do.” She gave Marnie a huge hug. “Why did I have to fall for a man who is making a total fool of himself over a woman who—” Julie grimaced. “You know, when I first came to Total Elegance, the first time I saw him, I really believed I’d met the one person for me. And look at me now, sitting here with you feeling like I’ve lost everything.” She tucked her chin into her neck, hiding her face.
“You haven’t lost everything,” Marnie said, wishing she could ease her friend’s heartache.
“I have! Meeting Shane made me believe in love at first sight. I felt so alive, so thrilled to be around him…and now I feel like a walking cliché. What’s even worse, he’s about to marry a woman who is so completely wrong for him,” she wailed.
“Love at first sight went out with the dinosaurs.”
“Like you’d know.” Julie snorted.
“I’ve seen firsthand what it does to people.”
“You mean Shane?”
She sighed. “Julie, Shane is getting married, and you and I may be upset with him, but there’s nothing either of us can do about it. You’re going to have to get used to working with Gina, or you’re going to have to leave the salon.”
“If she keeps pissing people off and the staff and clientele make tracks, Shane won’t have anything left of what you and he built together. Won’t you feel bad if that happens?”
“Of course I will, but I can’t change how Shane lives his life. Neither can you.”
“Promise me you won’t sign until you come back? Please?”
She and Julie had spent many late nights over bottles of wine discussing Gina and Shane. Julie had wanted to intervene, but Marnie had managed to convince her to stay out of her partner’s personal life.
“I can’t make that promise. I’ve agreed to sell, but he’s allowed me a few days to reconsider should I need it. I don’t think I will, but it never hurts to be cautious. Meanwhile, you have to face the fact that nothing will change Shane’s mind about Gina,” she said gently.
Tears shimmered in Julie’s eyes. “He can’t marry her, Marnie.”
“Julie, we’ve been over this.”
Julie gave a disgusted sniff, checked her manicure and tilted her chin toward the mirror on the dresser beside the bed. She got up, smoothing her fiery-red top over her narrow hips. “On a whole other topic, our landlord called before you got home, and he has agreed to the estimates for cleaning up the flood damage in the basement.”
Marnie and Julie had clothes and personal belongings destroyed by water damage a couple of weeks ago when a pipe broke in the basement of the house they rented. “That’s great. We can shop for new shoes and purses now.”
“Guess so.” Julie tucked one booted leg under her as she settled back on the bed.
Marnie pulled her one black dress out of the closet. “Darn! That reminds me. I don’t have a decent pair of heels to take with me.”
“You’re telling me you don’t have one pair of high heels you could wear with a black dress?”
“None. Remember, I’d been reorganizing the closets when the flood happened—all my shoes were on the floor in the basement, along with boxes of my winter clothes.” She stuck her head into the bottom of the closet and reappeared with a pair of three-inch heels. “All I have is this pair of canary-yellow ones, and I don’t have time to shop for a new pair.”
“Not given your inability to make a decision where clothes are concerned. Now, if it were me, I could buy ten pairs in an afternoon. Guess you’ll have to make a fashion statement with your yellow ones. I wonder if you’ll have to dress up for dinner?”
“I went on the internet to see how formal this place is. There was no mention of a dress code, but the photos of the dining room are pretty classy,” she said, worrying that she might not have the right clothes. So much of her wardrobe involved casual pants and tops for work, or jeans.
“You’ll be fine.”
“I want to look good, but not draw attention to myself. It would make my job a whole lot more difficult if people began to notice me. If they started paying attention to me they might wonder why I was checking things out.”
“You wouldn’t be that obvious.” Julie got up again and sauntered over to the chair next to the window. “So, how does this mystery-guest thing work?”
“Scott made the reservation for me and guaranteed it with his credit card. All I have to do is show up, enjoy every service the inn has to offer and fill out a bunch of questionnaires. That’s it.”
“Sounds simple enough. Hope it doesn’t snow too much while you’re there. You might not make it home for Christmas.”
“Christmas is the last thing on my mind.” Marnie bundled her curling iron, makeup and hair products into a bag and packed them in her suitcase. She gave the room a quick once-over. “Well, I guess that pretty well does it.”
Julie peered over the edge of the suitcase. “Underwear?”
“Oh, yeah.” Marnie scooped her undergarments out of her dresser drawers, dropping her pink bustier onto the floor in her haste.
“Wow! Are you up to something on the man front without telling me? Planning on meeting a hunky skier, perhaps?”
“You never know. I’m going to pamper myself, and if there’s an available male, you just never know what might happen. I haven’t had a decent date in months, and now that I won’t be logging tons of time at the salon, a decent date just went to number one on my list of priorities.” She stuffed the bustier and the rest of her underwear in her suitcase and closed the zipper.
“Well, here’s hoping that none of the guys you meet up there in the Berkshires bear the faintest resemblance to Mario.” Julie arched her eyebrows in warning.
“So I’m lousy at picking men.”
“No, you’ve got to stop letting them pick you. There’s a difference. As I’ve said before you’ve got to be assertive and pick the best apple from the dating tree, not the duds.”
Marnie smiled out of the corner of her mouth and reached her arms out to her friend. “Wish me luck on all fronts.”
“Absolutely.” Julie jumped up, towering over Marnie as she hugged her. “Call me as soon as you have a free minute and let me know what the man situation is like. I might take a couple of days off from the delightful repartee with Gina the Hun and join you so I can look for a mountain man of my own.”
* * *
LONG HOURS LATER AND NEARLY out of gas, Marnie crested a hill, following the road as it trailed along a stream that wound through the countryside like a velvet scarf. To the right, in the middle of a sweep of land framed by pine trees, she spotted a sign in navy blue edged with gold announcing The Mirabel Inn. Beyond the sign, a long driveway led up a gentle slope to the inn.
Marnie had never seen anything quite so beautiful and majestic in her whole life. She pulled to a stop on the side of the road, captivated by the sight. Two large wings extended back from either side of the inn’s front entranceway and peaked roofs accented the elegant structure sparkling in the afternoon sun. The Mirabel Inn looked like something out of a fairy tale. Its generous expanse of windows glittered in the light and the wide verandas wrapped around two sides. The eaves adorned with intricately carved wood emphasized the inn’s Victorian feel.
Her research revealed that The Mirabel Inn had once been the private residence of a lumber baron who owned most of the land in this part of the valley. It stood as a magnificent testimonial to his wealth and position in the community during the early years of development in this area of the state.
When Marnie was a child, she’d dreamed of living in just such a place, a dream that was immediately tempered by the reality that only the very rich could afford a house like this. But she could still dream, and she now had days to experience what living in a house like this would be like.
She started along the winding drive leading to the entrance with its tall white columns framing a beautiful front door, festooned with the largest Christmas wreath she’d ever seen, and set off by inlaid glass panes on either side of the door. She passed a towering fir tree, whose brightly colored Christmas lights added to the ambience, before entering a section of the driveway flanked by sprawling rock gardens. She could only imagine the types of flowering plants and shrubs that the gardens would hold in the summer. At the moment they were mulched and ready for winter, the bark chips peeking through a light blanket of snow.
Why would Scott’s client want a mystery guest to assess this inn? There wasn’t a shingle missing off the roof, or a bit of peeling paint anywhere to be seen.
But Marnie’s only concern was getting a few questionnaires filled out while she relaxed by the fireplace in her room with a hot toddy. Add to that a soaker tub where she could soothe her sore muscles after a nice hike along some of the trails she’d read about in the brochure. Absolute heaven.
She parked in front of the door and got out. Clutching Scott’s emailed directions along with her confirmation number, she slung her purse over her shoulder, and crossed the stone driveway toward the entrance. Her hand was on the huge brass doorknob when a little boy raced around the corner of the inn toward her, screaming in excitement as he grabbed the back of her jacket. A small dog that resembled a barrel with legs circled her, its fervent bark adding to the pandemonium.
“Ethan, come back here!” a man, following in pursuit of the child, yelled.
Marnie looked down into the bluest, roundest eyes she’d ever seen, and couldn’t help smiling. The child had what looked like tomato sauce on his cheeks and a grin that made him impossible to resist. “Well, hello there,” she said, kneeling down.
“Sorry,” the man said, coming to a stop in front of her. “My son believes this inn is his private play area, and he’s a little too young to get the message that not everyone who arrives here wants to play with him.” He gathered the boy in his arms.
“And I take it the dog has the same idea,” she said, still kneeling as she patted the animal, which immediately lay down, rolled over and offered his belly for a rub. “What’s his name?”
“Henry. He adopted us a year ago.” The man’s smile reached into an untapped part of her heart, creating a sense of longing so unfamiliar it stole her breath, followed by the sensation that they’d met before. But they hadn’t. She would have remembered a man who looked this good.
Trying to regain her composure, she focused her attention on the little boy. “He’s so cute,” she said, groaning inwardly at her use of such a cliché, but surely she could be forgiven for being so predictable. The man was beyond handsome. Sure, there were lots of movie stars who looked good—thanks to special lighting and camera work—but this man was every woman’s dream personified. He was tall, taller than any of her brothers, and he appeared very at ease with himself. His jet-black hair and sea-green eyes—haunted eyes—completed the package.
Get a grip! He’s got a son. And he’s probably married.
But Marnie couldn’t help marveling at her luck. First, the most beautiful place she’d ever seen was to be her home for the next few days, and now this…
“Can I help you?” the man asked, giving her the full benefit of his sexy smile as he hoisted his son onto his shoulders, much to the delight of the child, who promptly clutched his father’s forehead and grinned down at Marnie.
“I’m expected. I have a reservation.”
His eyes darkened, and the smile faded from his face as he glanced at her car and back at her. “You have a reservation here?”
“Yes.” She held out her brother’s email, with her confirmation number scribbled along the bottom. “I have a reservation for The Mirabel Inn, starting tonight and checking out on the twenty-fourth.”
“Is your…husband, I mean your spouse…partner…here?” Consternation knit his brows together.
Marnie didn’t know how to respond to such an outrageous question. All she wanted was to check in and relax before dinner. “Do you have to have a husband to stay here?” she asked in her you’ve-got-to-be-kidding tone.
Hesitating, he gently tugged on his son’s legs. “No. No, of course not. At least most of the time you don’t. But as of tomorrow night, the inn will be filled with couples. It’s our Christmas Getaway event and it’s meant for couples wanting to enjoy the romantic holiday away from all the stress of Christmas preparations. I’m sure the person doing the reservation would’ve told you that.”
She couldn’t stay here because she was single? Was this covered in the Constitution? It had to be. She had a valid reservation because her brother wouldn’t make that kind of mistake. But why was she wasting time talking to someone who was clearly a lot more handsome than he was gracious?
“Look, I drove all the way up here. I have a reservation and I’m going to check in.” With that, she opened the door and strode into the lobby. Immediately, Henry jumped up and ambled in behind her, his nails clicking on the hardwood flooring.
Under different circumstances she would’ve stopped to admire the fabulous Christmas tree filling the main hall with the scent of balsam and outdoors, but she had to determine if her brother had made a mistake. If there’d been some mistake with the reservation, she’d be forced to return to Boston. If that was the case, surely they could help her find a place to stay somewhere in the vicinity as she was too tired to drive any farther. She walked to the desk off along one wall and rang the antique bell resting on the gleaming mahogany.
A woman appeared, dressed in a classy black dress, a smile warming her angular features. “How may I help you?” she asked.
“I’m here to check in. My name is Marnie McLaughlan, and I have a reservation.”
A frown knitted the woman’s perfectly tweezed eyebrows as she scanned a printout. “Could you wait just a minute?” she asked before disappearing into an office down the hall.
The man she’d met outside came in with his son, his expression neutral as he edged past her and went into the same office. Henry promptly settled in behind the reception desk, his chocolate-brown eyes pensive.
Was everyone in this place either frowning or looking far too serious for such a lovely day? What was the problem with them? She was here, and all she wanted was a pleasant room with a soft bed and a deep tub.
She’d gone over the questionnaires before she left Boston, and there was a section covering the reception desk. She’d be sure to give them a failing grade on how they received guests. Only the little boy and the dog had shown her any true courteousness so far.
She resisted the urge to tap her foot as she gazed up at the vaulted ceiling with its dark wood and hanging brass light fixtures. No wonder Advantage Corporation wanted this place checked out. No hotel employee should be this unpleasant with a paying guest, regardless of what plans had been made for activities at the inn.
She was left to twiddle her thumbs for a few minutes longer, and then the man reappeared without the child, the woman trailing behind him. His smile was back on his face.
“I’m Luke Harrison, manager of The Mirabel Inn.” He held out his hand, a welcoming smile on his face.
Now, that’s more like it.
The warmth and the firmness of his touch drew her in despite his recent behavior. So this was the manager of The Mirabel Inn. His penetrating gaze could prove dangerous should he have reason to believe that she was anything other than a paying guest. The last thing she needed was for him to suspect that she was doing a private assessment of his operations. It would probably be a good idea not to press him over his preoccupation about her traveling alone. The less involvement she had with the man over the next few days, the better.
“It seems we’ve made a mistake. You’re right, you do have a reservation, but I’m afraid the only room available is on the third floor. Unfortunately, it’s very small and the bathroom doesn’t have a Jacuzzi tub. It is not up to the standards of the other rooms here and is seldom used.”
“Does it have internet access?” she asked.
“It does, but only because it’s about to be converted to an office.”
“Well, as long as it has a bathroom—”
“We’re sorry about this situation. We don’t normally rent that room. If you’d like, we can call another inn just a couple of miles down the road. The Chancellor is very intimate and offers the best of everything, including a four-star dining room. They have a vacancy, and we’d be more than happy to compensate you for our mistake.”
Obviously she preferred a full-size room to what sounded like a broom closet with a bathroom. But she didn’t have a choice. She had to stay at The Mirabel Inn. Still, she could indulge her curiosity. “Does the Chancellor have a spa?”
“No, it doesn’t. Was our spa part of your reason for choosing The Mirabel Inn?” he asked, pleasure lighting his handsome features.
He was clearly proud of his spa. “Yes, it was.”
“That’s really too bad. But this is a very popular season of the year, and we’d like you to have the best experience possible during your stay at our inn. We could, of course, offer you a certificate toward booking another time. We would be pleased to provide the Ambassador Suite, should you decide you prefer the accommodations of the Chancellor Inn for this visit, and then return for another visit here.” His eyebrows lifted, his parted lips showing off his perfectly straight teeth.
She wished she could agree to his offer—the chance to see him a second time adding to the appeal—but there was her brother to consider. “No, I prefer to stay here. I’ve read so much about your inn.”
He nodded slowly. “Then welcome to The Mirabel Inn. I do hope you have a pleasant experience here with us,” he said, giving her a forced smile before turning on his heel and marching out of the lobby. Henry issued a mammoth dog sigh as he followed the man down the hallway.
The woman in the black dress stepped forward. “I’m sorry about this. You are travelling alone, correct?”
Marnie stared at the woman in disbelief as she yanked her cell phone out of her purse. The minute she got to her room she would get Scott on the line and have him deal with these people. With the way they were acting toward her, she’d happily get back in the car, find a gas station and get out of here. “What is the big deal?” she muttered.
The woman started to say something, then thought better of it.
Marnie leaned closer to read the woman’s name badge. “Amanda Buckland, is that correct?”
“Yes…”
“Mr. Harrison didn’t seem very pleased when I refused his offer to switch inns.”
The woman passed Marnie a form for her signature. “Mr. Harrison is anxious that each guest have the best possible experience while staying at The Mirabel. He’s simply concerned for you. Starting tomorrow, the only guests here will be couples.”
An inn full of romantic couples—just her rotten luck. But there was the spa, and hiking and good food, and a timeout for her. “Not to worry. I understand. I’ll be as quiet and discreet as possible. I won’t interfere with your special Christmas event.”
“We have a large clientele who come here for pampering and socializing with other guests. Our manager simply wants each guest to enjoy his or her experience with us.” Amanda pursed her flawlessly painted lips.
“I understand.” In truth, as gorgeous as Mr. Harrison might be, what the manager of this inn wanted came in last on her list of priorities.
“Mr. Harrison is a lovely man and a great manager. Everyone here at The Mirabel likes him, and of course Ethan is such an adorable little boy. We’re like a family.”
The whole family thing didn’t live up to its billing as far as she was concerned. Yet, she had a job to do and she would do it.
Amanda passed her an antique key embossed with a coat of arms. “I hope you have a wonderful stay with us, and if there’s anything any member of the staff can do for you, please don’t hesitate to ask. I’ll show you to your room.”
“That’s not necessary. I’ll get my suitcase and go up by myself. Room number 311, right?”
“Yes. If you’d like someone to park your car for you…”
“That would be nice.” Oh, she could get used to this sort of luxury very quickly. She imagined the spa and what treats awaited her there. She intended to indulge in all of them.
Amanda pulled the long velvet pull cord hanging at the back of the desk area and a bell tolled somewhere deep inside the building. “Again, please enjoy your stay, and let one of the staff know if you need anything.”
Marnie got her bag from her car, gave her keys to a young man who was waiting outside for her and then headed up the stairs to the third floor. The wide-angled staircase, carpeted in heavy paisley-patterned carpet, led to a much narrower stairway leading to the third floor. Reaching the top of the stairs, she faced a narrow corridor with a tall window at the far end. Her key clutched in her hand, she huffed along down the hall, dragging her suitcase until she found her room. Unlocking the door, she discovered a narrow room made even narrower by the slope of the roof.
Although the room was small, it was a decorator’s dream. The double bed, bracketed by two brass lamps, was covered with a heavy brocade bedspread in shades of cream and gold. The walls were covered in antique fleur-de-lis wallpaper, and the carpet beneath her feet was a rich shade of blue, and so thick she nearly stumbled on it.
She put her suitcase down on the luggage rack at the foot of the bed, catching a glimpse of the tiny bathroom as she did so. But neither the size of the room nor the bathroom mattered as she kicked off her boots, pulled back the bedspread and sank onto the mattress, her head coming to rest on a pillow that felt like a cloud. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she remembered that one of the questionnaire sections related to the comfort of the bed, and she’d be sure to give the inn a perfect rating on that feature.
But it had been a long drive and she needed a short nap before dinner....
* * *
LUKE SAT AT his desk, staring at Marnie McLaughlan’s reservation. It was made out to a Mr. and Mrs. Scott McLaughlan, and yet she’d shown up here alone…and no wedding ring. Where was Mr. McLaughlan? Amanda said he’d been very friendly and so disappointed when she didn’t have a vacancy that she’d felt sorry for him, and offered him the room on the top floor. But why hadn’t he arrived with her if he was so anxious to come here? His wife hadn’t made any mention of him or when he’d be joining her.
It didn’t make sense. He tapped the desk, his mind running over the possibilities.
His concerns aside, he’d been surprised to find Ethan hanging off the woman’s leg when he got to the front of the house, but she seemed to take it in stride. What could have been an embarrassing situation had turned into a pleasant interlude with a beautiful woman. And with her heart-shaped face framed by short, dark curls and her well-toned body, Marnie McLaughlan was gorgeous and sexy....
Her husband probably planned to arrive later, a simple enough explanation, and he hadn’t offered her much opportunity to explain why they hadn’t arrived together. He’d simply find a diplomatic way to learn when her husband was going to join her, because otherwise, a woman alone meant problems from seating arrangements in the dining room to any activities planned for the next few days. Married couples, especially the wives, came to this event because they wanted to escape and spend time with their husbands. It was essential that there be no disruptions this year—and a woman as beautiful as Marnie McLaughlan could prove to be a serious disruption.
He was still distracted by the problem of Marnie when Jack Fowler, the bartender, appeared at the door. “You look awful, my friend. What’s up?”
“We’ve got a single female guest for the next three days, unless her husband decides to join her.” He picked up the reservation, and noted down Scott McLaughlan’s number. “And we have thirty couples who’ve registered for the Christmas Getaway event, most of them arriving tomorrow. I wanted this thing to go off without a hitch. I’d like to really promote it next year and maybe build a little momentum around our programming for the winter months. The last thing I need is a beautiful woman making the wives feel on edge or jealous.”
“I hope she’s not one of those women who likes to hang out at the bar. The last one of those just left yesterday and I’m exhausted,” Jack grumbled.
Luke knew what he meant. Although the bar was popular with the guests because of Jack’s charm, in addition to the quality and variety of the liquor offerings, no one appreciated a guest wanting to spend the night getting drunk. In Jack’s case, he had another reason for wanting to see his guests leave the bar at a reasonable hour. His wife, Lindsay, was expecting their first child and was anxious about the delivery, especially with respect to getting to the hospital on time. Jack didn’t like leaving her alone and had worked mostly day shifts until this week.
“I don’t know anything about her except that the reservation was for two, and here she is, all checked in and ready to enjoy her stay…alone. Her husband insisted that the small room was fine for them. I can’t shake the feeling that something else is going on here.” Restless, he picked up a steel pen, one his parents had given him years ago.
“I assume she’s beautiful.”
“That, too.”
“I take it you tried to convince her to reconsider?”
“I suggested the Chancellor but she refused. It seems she’s very interested in our spa.”
“Well, then I wouldn’t worry. Her husband will probably show up,” Jack said, rubbing his hands through his short-cropped brown hair. “Maybe she and her husband had a fight, and she decided to come on her own, hoping he’d follow her and they could have great makeup sex.”
Luke groaned. “I don’t need that—her deciding to cry on one of the other husbands’ shoulders when hers doesn’t show, and we end up with an argument, or worse still, the couple leaves. Not the image I want to portray.”
“You know there is something you could do if you’re worried about the other guests.”
“What’s that?”
“Until the other guests arrive, I don’t see a problem. But if her husband isn’t here by tomorrow night for the dinner that launches the Christmas Getaway event, you could invite her to be your guest. That way you’ll be able to keep an eye on her.”
“And if she doesn’t want to be my guest?”
Jack shrugged. “She won’t object. Half the women I serve at the bar ask me about you. Married or not. They’re all interested.”
He hadn’t dated anyone since Anna died. There was simply too much to deal with between raising Ethan and running the inn. And if he were to be perfectly honest, a new relationship with a woman would mean he’d have to face his feelings around Anna’s death, feelings of anger over her unwillingness to listen to his warning about the road conditions, all the emptiness of having been left alone.
Yet, meeting Marnie had sparked something. He was attracted to her, and he didn’t want to be. First, she was married, and second, he didn’t want to care for someone when caring could lead to so much hurt. “That might work for tomorrow,” he conceded.
“Her husband will probably arrive tomorrow, anyway.”
“Then why didn’t she say so?”
Jack shook his head. “Did you ask?”
“No.” He sighed. “I should have.”
“My advice? Leave it for tonight, and deal with it tomorrow.”
* * *
MARNIE WOKE WITH A START—nothing seemed familiar, and the only sound was someone outside the door talking about a room number. Then she remembered where she was. How long had she slept? She checked her watch. Six o’clock! She’d planned to go for a hike, but now all she’d have time for was a walk around the grounds. She jumped up, hitting her head on the sloped ceiling. “Ow!” she muttered, rubbing the spot just above her hairline.
“That’s what you get for agreeing to stay in this room,” she said to the empty space as she bent over, searching for her hiking boots. Pulling them on, she noted how dark it was outside, only the sliver of moon peeking through the blind. She hurried downstairs and out the front door. Taking a quick look around, she spotted a stone path leading to the side of the inn. She took it, past a cluster of spreading juniper toward the back. The path led to a stone patio where someone had removed all the snow.
Near the edge on the other side of the patio, Ethan was on his hands and knees digging in the soft loam of a flowerbed, while making loud dump-truck sounds. Squinting around the poorly lit patio space she realized the little boy was out here alone. Except for Henry, who had settled in near the patio door, his chin on his paws, one ear flopped rakishly over one eye. He observed her carefully, his ears doing a flip-flop before settling back.
She went over and knelt down beside the boy. “Ethan, what are you doing?”
“I drive the truck,” he announced proudly, his blue eyes taking her in, a smile dawning on his face. “I need help. You push,” he ordered, getting behind the toy dump truck loaded with dirt and giving it a shove.
She laughed. “You want me to drive your dump truck?”
He nodded, then stepped back and nodded his head again.
“Okay, here goes,” she said, pushing the truck along the edge of the flowerbed toward a spot where he’d clearly dumped other loads.
He toddled along beside her, and when she stopped he pulled the lever that raised the box on the dump truck, spilling his load onto the ground.
He promptly got behind the truck and with a cacophony of enginelike noises he drove the truck back to the spot where she’d found him. She hugged herself against the chill of the night air. “Aren’t you cold?” she asked, noting his fleece jacket partially zippered.
“No!” he howled, looking up at her and scrunching his tiny face. “I’m not cold.”
“Okay. Do you want to load the dump truck again?”
“Yes.” He began shoveling dirt into the truck with his plastic shovel, and again she wondered if anyone in the inn knew this child was out here on his own.
“Where’s your daddy?”
He pointed to the tall windows overlooking the patio. Inside, she could see a cluster of tables covered with white tablecloths and candles, and staff moving around the room. The room looked so inviting with its twinkling chandeliers, the golden walls and dark trim. She went to the window for a closer look, only to attract the curious attention of one of the young female servers. Embarrassed, she wiggled her fingers at her, then turned away and went back to where Ethan was busily filling the dump truck.
“Push,” he ordered, pointing at the truck.
Dutifully, she knelt down and pushed the truck toward the dump spot to the tune of Ethan’s squeals of delight. They dumped the dirt out together, and then Ethan turned to her, a bright smile on his face. Wrapping his arms around her neck, he hugged her.
Startled, at first she didn’t know what to do, but feeling his arms tighten, she hugged him back. What a wonderful feeling! How she missed this now that all her nieces and nephews were older. Feeling the warmth of the little boy’s body and breathing in his little-boy scent, she felt a strong sense of missing out on life....
He sprang out of her arms. “You help me some more?”
“Sure. But why don’t we go inside for a bit first?” she asked, the evening air cooling rapidly.
“No!” He pushed his lips out in a pout. “I don’t want to.”
She had begun to shiver and tucked her chin into the top of her jacket. “But it must be time for you to eat,” she offered, hoping to encourage him to go in with her. She got up, stretched her legs and moved toward the patio doors. “Why don’t you come with me?” she asked, glancing over at the sound of the door opening. Henry barked and ambled toward the door, slipping past the man back-lit by the light of the room behind him.
Luke Harrison stood there, his face in partial shadow. “Oh, it’s you.”
“Yes, I went out for a walk around the property and discovered Ethan playing with his dump truck.” Why did she feel nervous? Was it the detached tone of the man’s voice? Did he think she was trying to kidnap his son?
“One of the serving staff told me a strange woman was out here, so I came to check.”
“I’ve been called a lot of things, but until now ‘strange’ hasn’t been one of them,” she said, making an attempt at humor. After her previous encounter she wanted to make a better impression this time around, if only to ease his concerns over her being here alone.
Moving toward her, he chuckled, a deep, sexy sound that made her body tingle. “I didn’t mean to imply that you’re strange.”
“That’s a relief.”
“Thanks for being here with Ethan. I got called to the phone and meant to return sooner than this.”
Ethan had moved to stand between them, his head tilted back, staring up at them. “He’s going to be an engineer when he grows up,” Marnie said.
“Or a dump-truck driver.” Luke glanced down at his son, then back at her. “I want to apologize for the way I behaved when we first met, but I was concerned about whether you’d enjoy your stay here with us. I don’t normally rent that room, and certainly not on such a special occasion. How is it, by the way?”
She remembered the bump on her head, but didn’t mention it in case he tried again to convince her to move to the Chancellor Inn. “It’s…cozy.”
“That’s one way of describing it,” he said, picking Ethan up in his arms and nuzzling his rosy cheek. “You’re cold, little buddy.”
“I’m hungry,” Ethan said.
“Maybe it’s time to go inside. Want to come?” he asked her, making her feel included, part of his world.
“Sure.” She followed them inside, and was surprised to find the lobby bustling with activity. The first seating for dinner would begin momentarily, and the bar across from the dining room was filled with guests, most of them older than she was, all of them laughing and talking together.
Luke carried Ethan to the office and stepped back, inviting her to enter the room first. “Have you met our housekeeper, Mary?” he asked, nodding to a woman seated at a tiny desk near the back of the room.
“Nice to meet you,” Mary said, extending her hand in welcome.
Marnie shook hands with her. “Nice to meet you, too,” she said, taking in this woman’s open, direct smile. She liked her immediately. “I’m looking forward to my stay here. And my room is—” she let her gaze drift to Luke—and only one word came to mind “—gorgeous. Though a little small,” she added, eliciting a smile from him as he lowered Ethan to the floor.
“I’ll take Ethan for his dinner and maybe I’ll see you later,” Mary said, giving Luke a long sideways glance before taking Ethan by the hand and leading him out.
“I’m hungry,” Ethan announced again on his way out the door.
“How does mac and cheese sound?” Mary asked.
“Yes!” Ethan could be heard racing down the hall despite Mary’s warning to slow down and wait for her.
“He’s a sweet little boy. He and I had a great time outside.”
“Thanks again for watching him. I don’t usually leave him alone like that, especially at this time of the evening.”
“Not a problem. You and your wife must be so proud of him.”
Luke’s eyes swept her face, and his expression faltered. “My wife died three years ago, around this time, actually.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry! I didn’t know.”
“There’s no reason you should.”
Her heart went out to him. How hard it must be to lose the one person you loved, especially at Christmas, and be left to raise a child alone. She searched for something appropriate to say, but realized that he was past being helped by words of sympathy. No wonder his eyes looked so haunted.
He smoothed his hand over his hair. “Would you—” He stopped as if he remembered something. “Would you like to have dinner with me this evening?”
He smiled his son’s smile, and Marnie was captivated. “I would.”
“Then why don’t I meet you in the bar around nine? We could have a drink and talk—” He shrugged. “Talk about anything you want.”
He seemed uneasy. Why? Surely he had his pick of women who would happily go to dinner with him. “I would love to have dinner with you.” She waited to see if he’d say anything more, and when he didn’t she headed for the door, sucking her stomach in, hoping to appear thin and beautiful in spite of the fact that she was still wearing the same pair of jeans she’d been napping in only a short time ago. “See you soon,” she said.
Marnie was nearly bursting out of her skin. She had a date with the most gorgeous man she’d ever met, and that was the truth, pure and simple.
A real live date. Wonders never ceased.
She literally skipped up the first flight of stairs. Belatedly, she realized that she had exactly one dress with her that would be suitable for a date—a little black dress that was still in the bottom of her suitcase. And one pair of canary-yellow heels to wear with it.
CHAPTER THREE
A HALF HOUR LATER MARNIE stood at the entrance to the bar, trying not to look at her feet. She had bigger problems, she noted, as she held her head high to keep the V of her dress from puckering. The few times she’d donned this dress she’d worn her Victoria’s Secret push-up bra to take up the slack created by her less than impressive “front bumpers,” as her brothers used to call them. But the bra in question was resting peacefully back in her underwear drawer at home.
As for what was on her feet, there was nothing she could do about that particular issue, either. She’d packed her only pair of high heels, prepared to look different and sexy.
She had different covered, all right.
When she entered the bar, some of the men stopped talking and watched her walk past them. Sliding up onto a bar stool, she quietly assessed the bartender. He was a man around her age, she guessed, and the hairdresser in her wanted the opportunity to restyle his hair, shorten the top, maybe....
He came over to her immediately, and with a welcoming smile planted his hands on the bar. “What can I get you this evening?”
He had a pleasant voice, and his manner put her immediately at ease. “Chardonnay?” she asked, feeling good about herself, all because she was about to have a glass of wine while waiting for her date. So maybe it wasn’t a regular date, and maybe there’d only be one, but one was better than none.
“Coming right up,” the bartender said, snapping open a bar fridge under the counter behind him. She peered up at the ornate carving on the wood framing the bar. It looked like a stag and a dove.
A woman dressed in a bright red top and black pants sat down on the stool next to her. “Do you mind?” the woman asked, her blond hair—a good color job, Marnie noted—swaying around her high cheek bones and sparkling blue eyes.
“Not at all. I’m Marnie.” She smiled, happy to have someone to chat with while she waited for Luke.
“I’m Cindy. So nice to meet you.”
“You, too. Are you staying at the inn?”
“Yes. It’s our fifth wedding anniversary. My husband and I were married here in Wakesfield just before Christmas five years ago. The minister from the local Episcopalian church married us. I wanted a church wedding so much, and my husband was willing to go along.” She adjusted the neckline of her red top. “You know how men are about weddings. They’d just as soon go to a justice of the peace, but I wanted a big wedding.”
“I did, too, once,” Marnie said, drawn to this woman’s openness.
“Are you married? Are you taking part in the Christmas Getaway event?”
Marnie tucked her naked ring finger out of sight. “No, but the getaway sounds like fun.”
“When we heard about it, my husband and I were thrilled. He doesn’t usually take this much time off so close to Christmas, but I talked him into it. One of the couples we met this afternoon is also here celebrating an anniversary.” She glanced toward the door. “I don’t know what can be keeping my husband. Even though we’re on holiday, he’s calling his office, but it shouldn’t be taking this long.”
Glad to be off the hook on the marriage thing, Marnie leaned forward wondering where her drink was. She noticed that her dress was gaping open, and she pushed her shoulders back. “Where does your husband work?”
“He owns a business in Boston. And he’s always so busy, I worry about him.”
“It takes a lot to start a business these days, but it’s even harder to make a success of it.”
“Don’t I know it! I’d like to start a family, but my sweetie feels we’re not ready. He says after he hires one more salesperson, we’ll be able to concentrate on starting a family.” She smiled wistfully at Marnie. “Do you have children—”
“One California Chardonnay.” The bartender interrupted their conversation, his gaze sharp as he placed the wineglass on a Christmas napkin in front of Marnie. “Are you staying at the inn?” he asked.
Sweet relief! Saved by a drink. “Yes, as a matter of fact, I am. Nice spot. I’ve never been here before, but it’s really lovely,” she said, happy to chat with him rather than answer questions that would raise the issue of her being here alone. She’d have to be careful to keep a low profile while she worked on the questionnaires.
“You’ll love it here, trust me. Isn’t that the truth, Cindy?” he asked, taking the drink order of the woman sitting next to her—a dry martini.
“It is. We’ve come back here on our anniversary the past two years. And Jack’s the best martini maker in the state. I had my first martini right here at this bar on my wedding night.”
“I remember that night. The entire inn was booked for your wedding,” Jack said, taking down a bottle of gin from the shelf at the back of the bar.
As he moved down the bar to prepare the martini, Marnie watched him, searching her memory for some of the questions she’d need answered in order to complete the bar section of the survey.
Cindy gave him a grateful smile when he returned. “Thank you,” she said, reaching for the glass.
He placed the napkin in front of her as she took the glass. “Enjoy.”
Jack turned to another customer, leaving Marnie to observe the efficient way he moved, mixing drinks while keeping up a flow of conversation with the patrons. He certainly knew his job, she mused, watching him as he loaded a blender with ingredients from the fridge and the counter in front of him.
“Is this bar always this busy?” she asked Cindy.
“Yes. And I’m sure Jack has a lot to do with it,” she said, her voice trailing off. Again her gaze moved to the door. “What could be keeping my husband? I’d like you to meet him.”
“I’m sure he’ll be along soon,” she offered to ease the woman’s obvious anxiety. “Do you live in Boston?”
With a huge smile, Cindy answered. “We live in Boston. I’m a kindergarten teacher, and I love it. The four- and five-year-olds are so cute.”
“Like Ethan?”
“Oh, you’ve met him already? Isn’t he the sweetest little boy? And so sad that he lost his mommy.”
“Yeah. It must have been hard for his dad, too.” Marnie checked her watch, wondering where Luke could be.
“I see we’re in the same boat.” Cindy nodded at Marnie’s watch. “We’re both waiting for the men in our lives.” Cindy smiled at someone behind Marnie. “And here’s mine now.”
Marnie turned on her stool and nearly fell off. Coming toward them was Brad Parker, the man she’d nearly married eleven years ago. The man who told her he couldn’t marry her because he didn’t want a wife who put her career first. What he really meant was he couldn’t give up the playmate he’d stashed away in an apartment in downtown Boston.
For about ten seconds Marnie considered walking out of the bar to avoid him. But she hadn’t done anything wrong, unless you counted falling in love with a loser. A love that died the evening she’d grown suspicious of his frequent business demands and followed him across town to his girlfriend’s place. She’d nearly turned her brothers loose on him, but she decided that he wasn’t worth it.
She watched, waiting for his phony smile to come her way, as she knew it would. Brad could never resist sizing up the women in any room he entered. And sure enough, after a smile tossed his wife’s way his eyes swerved to her. The muted light of the bar was still bright enough to expose the sudden blanching of his skin and the rigor mortis smile claiming his handsome features.
“Marnie, this is my husband, Brad Parker. Brad, this is Marnie.” Cindy looked from Marnie to her husband, her face beaming.
Feeling nothing for the man standing in front of her, Marnie waited for Brad to say something to smooth over the awkward moment, something Brad was very good at when he wanted to be. If he used his usual technique, he’d make some remark about where they might have met, and she’d take her cue from him.
He hesitated. Then he moved in between them, his arm going around his wife’s shoulders as he stared at Marnie. “Do I know you?” he asked.
“You look familiar,” she said, her smile easy, despite her shock at seeing him and his refusal to at least acknowledge her.
“I’m often mistaken for other people. Don’t know why,” Brad said, his cautionary gaze fixed on Marnie.
Leave it to Brad to take the coward’s way out, but Cindy clearly loved her husband, and Marnie wouldn’t do anything to hurt her. She forced a smile. “Probably that’s it.”
There was a long pause during which Brad waved the bartender over. “I’ll have a double bourbon.”
Cindy finished her drink in one long swallow, and placed the empty glass on the bar. “Honey, I’m going to the ladies’ room, but I’ll be back, and then the three of us can have a drink together.”
“I’ll be right here, waiting for you,” Brad said, pulling her hard against him and kissing her on the mouth.
Marnie waited until Cindy left the bar. “Brad, I—”
“What are you doing here?” Brad asked, as he looked her up and down.
For years she’d dreamed of meeting Brad somewhere and calling him out on his scandalous behavior, but not tonight. Tonight she intended to rise above all the pain that he’d caused her.
But as she gazed into his eyes and saw not a hint of remorse for what he’d done the words spilled out. “I’m here to enjoy myself, and that means staying away from you. Remember me? I’m the woman you almost married. Let me see, it was just a couple of weeks before our wedding day as I remember it, and you and…what was her name?” She frowned to cover the hurt she was feeling inside. “You had an urgent meeting in her bedroom. I believe she was a lawyer from the law firm your company dealt with—Mary Ellen something or other.”
He downed his drink. “Marnie, I’d really appreciate it if you’d not mention this in front of my wife.”
“Give me a little credit,” she snorted.
He glanced past her, frowning as he twirled his empty glass. “We’re here for the Christmas getaway, or whatever the hell they call it.”
“Trying for a few brownie points? Is she catching on to your story? The one where you pretend to be so busy at work that you can’t be at home with her?”
“Your bitchiness is showing,” he muttered.
She caught the bartender watching her, bringing her back to her senses. “Brad, I want you to know that as angry as I was back then, I now realize that marrying you would have been the biggest mistake of my life.”
“Okay, so can we leave it there?” he asked, anxiously glancing around.
“Is everything okay?” Cindy asked, appearing around the corner of the bar and startling them both.
“Everything’s just fine, darling.” He put his arm around Cindy, towering over her. “I’ve got a surprise for you. I was saving it for tonight.”
“What’s that?” Cindy asked, her face turned up to his.
“We’re going back to our room and ordering champagne, followed by room service, followed by a little rug time in front of the fireplace.” He winked at Marnie behind his wife’s back.
Cindy blushed and smiled sheepishly at Marnie. “I’m sorry, but can we have a rain check on the drinks? I’m sure we’ll see each other again during our stay. Maybe you and your boyfriend can have dinner with us some evening.”
“Sounds lovely,” Marnie said, dredging up as much sincerity as she could muster.
“Then it’s settled. Maybe you and I could go into Wakesfield to shop tomorrow?”
“Maybe,” Marnie said, making a mental note to steer clear of both of them.
“Let’s go,” Brad said urgently.
Cindy giggled and linked her arm through his as they moved off toward the door, and Marnie immediately started planning how to stay clear of Brad and Cindy for the remainder of her stay. Since they were here on their anniversary they wouldn’t come down early for breakfast, she figured. As for lunch, she’d be sure to arrive early and sit at a table for two, and for dinner she could always order room service—whatever it took to avoid them.
She was still mulling over her plan when she saw the bartender approaching her.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Yes, why?”
“You looked…anxious, a little upset.” His squint was quizzical. “Are you friends with the Parkers?”
“No. No, I… We were just talking,” she mumbled, struggling to remember if either she or Brad had raised their voices.
She didn’t want any reports going back to Luke about her behavior at the bar. He was already far too paranoid about her being here alone. Learning that she’d had some sort of interaction with one of his precious getaway couples could wreak a whole lot of havoc. And she was definitely not into havoc.
Jack hesitated. “Can I get you anything?”
“No, I’m waiting for Luke. He must have been delayed.”
Upset and out of sorts over her altercation with Brad, she took a good big sip from her glass of wine and gave the drink menu the once-over as she planted a pleasant expression on her face and offered up a prayer that Luke Harrison would make an appearance soon.
* * *
LUKE SIGHED AS HE LISTENED to Jack describing a woman at the bar, a description that fit Marnie McLaughlan perfectly. Why had he agreed to meet her there of all places? Why had he agreed to have dinner with her? “Yeah, that’s her.”
“Still no indication as to when the husband’s arriving?” Jack asked, over the din of the bar.
“None, and I talked to her not that long ago.”
“And what did she say?”
“Not much. It’s a long story. I wish her husband would show up.”
“Might be a good idea. She just had a pretty heated discussion with the Parkers before they left for dinner. I can’t be sure what it was about, but she and Brad definitely knew each other.”
Luke groaned inwardly. He couldn’t have Marnie involved in anything having to do with the guests until her husband arrived. He had a lot riding on the next few days.
He glanced at his watch. He’d agreed to meet her at the bar and he was already late. “I’ll be there in a couple of minutes.”
“You don’t have to do that. I’ll keep an eye on her.”
“I invited her to dinner.”
“You did what?”
“You were the one who encouraged me to have her as my guest for dinner, remember?”
“True. And maybe that’s the answer…until the husband shows up. I’ll see you when you get here.”
Luke got up from his desk, leaving behind his operating-cost projections for the first quarter of next year, and adjusted his tie. When he entered the bar, Marnie was sitting by herself, reading the drink menu, her slim legs creating a smooth, enticing line from the hem of her short skirt to…bright yellow three-inch high heels. Who wore yellow shoes with a black dress? Who looked that good in yellow shoes and a black dress?
Jack was polishing glasses, his gaze locked on Marnie. A quick survey of the room showed him that all the men were watching her. The success or failure of the Christmas Getaway event appeared to rest on one sexy woman who didn’t seem to notice any of the attention directed at her.
Steeling himself for any questions she might have around his earlier behavior and her earlier argument over why she needed a husband here with her, he strode toward the bar. She caught sight of him, a smile lighting her face and warmth shining in her clear gray-green eyes. All he could think about was how attractive she was, how the dress fit her body like a glove.
A beautiful, sexy woman was waiting for him—Luke Harrison. It had been three years since anyone had waited for him. He sucked in a breath as he struggled to remember why he’d been so annoyed with her. “Sorry I’m late,” he mumbled as he slid onto the bar stool beside her.
“That’s okay. I’m glad you’re here.” She took a sip of her wine.
“Why? Did something happen?” he asked, hoping she’d give him her side of the story around the Parkers.
“No. It’s nothing. I’m just not used to being stared at.” She gave him an apologetic smile as her fingers pleated the napkin under her half-finished glass of wine.
With this beautiful woman’s eyes focused solely on him, he couldn’t think of an intelligent word to say. And if that wasn’t enough, he suddenly felt awkward, out of his depth. “Why don’t we go to my office before we go to dinner? I need to talk to you about something.”
She wrinkled her perfectly smooth brow. “If you’d like.” She slid off the stool and waved to Jack who waved back, and then winked at Luke. “But if your concern is over my room, I’m quite happy with it, and I’m really looking forward to having a spa treatment tomorrow.”
His thoughts rattling around his mind like marbles in a tin can, he followed her from the bar, mesmerized by her walk, and the curl of hair snaking down the nape of her long neck.
You need to get out more, date a few women.
When they reached his office, he closed the door and moved quickly to sit behind his desk. He needed to be behind his desk, otherwise he’d be tempted to touch her, and touching her was out of the question.
“Ah, we have a problem,” he said, forcing himself to get straight to the point.
“A problem? With what?” she asked, looking completely perplexed and totally endearing.
For a few minutes he considered backing out of his decision to find out what was going on with this woman and her reservation. But tomorrow was the first day of an event that was critical to the success of the inn’s winter season, a season he’d spent thousands of dollars of his advertising budget on, and he couldn’t let it be jeopardized.
His conversation with Jack made it even more urgent that he find out what was going on with her. “You’re aware that this Christmas Getaway event is starting tomorrow, and those couples signed up because they want to have a stress-free Christmas vacation, right?”
“Yes, you explained all that.”
“Your reservation is for two people.” He cleared his throat to ease his nervousness. “Will your husband be joining you tomorrow?”
“My husband?” she asked, her expression one of complete disbelief.
“Your reservation is made out in the name of Mr. and Mrs. Scott McLaughlan.”
She choked. “What?”
Why the surprise? Had she planned all along to come without her husband and now she’d been found out? Was she meeting one of the other guests? Surely not Brad Parker. He and his wife seemed so happy when he met them at the reception desk earlier. But if there was something going on between Brad and Marnie, it might explain why she insisted on staying here.
He pulled the reservation from the pile of papers on the corner of his desk. “See, there it is.” He pointed to the names on the reservation. “We’ve been heavily promoting this package. Your husband would have been informed when making the booking that it was a couples event.”
She read it slowly, her lips pursed into a stubborn arch. “You wouldn’t have accepted the reservation unless I was coming here with…my husband.”
“Not for the next few days. The package officially starts tomorrow, the 22nd, and runs until the 26th of December. We have a dinner party as the final event.”
“So, what do you want me to do?” she asked.
She hadn’t made any comment about her husband’s name being on the reservation, and she hadn’t offered any explanation for his absence. “It would be helpful to know when your husband is going to join you.”
She started to speak, then lowered her head and peered at her hands resting in her lap. “I don’t know.”
“Is he delayed?”
“He’s… I’m calling him this evening....”
He rubbed his face, a deep sigh escaping his lips. “In the meantime, we have to come to some sort of…arrangement.”
“An arrangement.” Her voice dropped twenty degrees, but two bright red spots appeared on her cheeks.
What in the hell was he doing? What arrangement would work that wouldn’t get him into more trouble? “Please try to understand my predicament. If you’re to stay here alone until your husband arrives you’ll have to keep a low profile. It might work best for you to be my…assistant.”
An assistant? Any other brilliant ideas?
She gave him an incredulous look. “You need a date that bad? None of the local girls want to go out with you?”
“No, I don’t need a date. You’re just too…too much of a distraction. The men here are supposed to be concentrating on their wives.”
“And if they don’t, it’s my fault?” she said, her voice rising.
“No, it’s just that…” He managed to come up with a smile. “I’m just digging the hole deeper, aren’t I?”
* * *
AS ANGRY AND EMBARRASSED as she was by the predicament Scott had put her in, she found Luke’s earnest tone reassuring. He wasn’t trying to offend her; he just wasn’t good at dealing with this sort of situation. He was obviously not good at talking to women, which made him more appealing in a way.
So, why don’t you tell him Scott’s not your husband, that he’s your brother? If you’re going to do it, now would be the time.
But if she told Luke the truth, how did she explain her brother’s strange behavior? And what sort of person had a brother that would claim his sister was his wife? And what would Luke think of her when he learned the truth?
She could suggest that the inn must have made a mistake, but she knew they hadn’t. Scott would have been told about the event, and in his single-minded way, he got around it by putting his name on the reservation, without thinking that there might be repercussions for her.
She could have said that Scott was going to come with his wife, and couldn’t at the last minute, but that wouldn’t work because Scott had been told that it was a special Christmas package for couples. So for Scott to send her alone made even less sense. So what sort of explanation could she offer to Luke that would explain her presence here this week of all weeks?
No, offering up another lie was out of the question. She hadn’t told Luke the truth originally and now the opportunity to do so was rapidly slipping away.
Face it. You’re stalling for time. As angry as you are at Scott, you don’t want to leave, and the reason is sitting across from you.
“You’re digging a huge hole, but it’s not necessarily your fault,” she said, barely able to contain her embarrassment. Scott hadn’t said one word about the couples program when he’d given her the confirmation number, and he’d left her to face this man knowing she was supposed to have a husband.
“If we could come up with some sort of explanation for you being here alone… I mean, did you come to think…or to resolve some issue?”
His expression was a mix of uncertainty and determination, and she felt sorry for him. After all, despite his poor handling of the situation, he was trying to run a business, and she wasn’t being much help.
She cleared her throat and tried for an encouraging smile. She’d deal with her sneaky, underhanded brother tonight. “I had planned to have a nice break for a few days.” That was the truth, and another reason she planned to do something really nasty to Scott when she got home. “But I didn’t realize that my being here would cause such a problem for you. I’m really sorry for causing so much trouble.”
Luke fidgeted for a few seconds, breathing life into her fantasy that if she could stay for a couple of days, and if she could somehow get out of the lie Scott had told, she might have a chance to get to know Luke. “I gather the inn will be busy for the next few days, and I used to run a beauty shop and spa. If I could help you out somehow, make up for any difficulties I may have caused,” she said, seeing his expression turn hopeful.
“It would certainly be much easier for everyone if you were inconspicuous…that’s why I suggested you be my assistant.”
“What will the other members of your staff say about this?”
“Nothing. To be honest with you, we all want the Christmas Getaway event to be a success.”
“I’m really that much of a concern?” she asked in disbelief.
He nodded sheepishly. “A lone single woman during this sort of event can’t help but stand out.” He shrugged. “This must sound silly to you, but appearances count when it comes to creating a romantic experience such as the one we have planned for this week.”
The heated exchange between herself and Brad came back to her, and she suddenly had a flash of realization. “The bartender called you, didn’t he? To report on me?”
He nodded. “Jack has a lot going on this week, as well. His wife is expecting their first child and she’s due any day. But I’ve gotten way off topic.”
So Jack told on her. If she had simply walked away from Brad, surely Luke wouldn’t be so anxious to keep her hidden. “That’s okay, and a new baby is always exciting,” she said.
“Would you be willing to pretend to be my assistant until your husband arrives? During our Christmas Getaway event, many of the staff will work longer hours than usual. With you here, I’ll be able to offer them at least a few hours off, which means you’ll be too busy to attract any of the guests’ attention.” He gave her the cutest look, nearly making her forget that she was here under false pretenses.
She had no idea why he was so anxious for her to stay, but clearly he was, and she wanted to stay, especially with the added bonus of working with him. Whatever else she did, she’d make sure she didn’t go anywhere near Brad or his wife, which would ease Luke’s concerns.
By helping out around the inn, she could also do her questionnaire work without being noticed. “Let me sleep on it, and I’ll give you my answer tomorrow. How’s that?”
“Great. In the meantime, what about dinner? The getaway event doesn’t officially start until tomorrow.”
Dinner was out of the question tonight. She was only hungry for the chance to ream Scott out. Food could wait. Besides, if she got really hungry, she had trail mix in her backpack. “If you don’t mind, I’m a little tired. I think I’ll just go to my room.”
She’d been so determined not to feel anything while Luke talked, not the surprise, the hurt or the embarrassment, brought on by the actions of her brother. And to add insult to injury, there had been the run-in with Brad. She swallowed hard and clenched her hands to steady herself.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. You don’t have to eat with me if you’d rather eat in your room. Why don’t I get the chef to send up some dinner?” Luke said.
Why not? She’d probably be ravenous when she got done yelling at Scott. “That would be wonderful.”
“Despite what I’ve said here this evening, I would’ve been more than pleased to have dinner with you.” His smile touched her heart, making her wish that she could tell him the truth about her, about why she was there in his beautiful inn.

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