In Bed with Her Ex: Miss Prim and the Billionaire / Mardie and the City Surgeon / The Boy is Back in Town. Marion Lennox
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Автор: Marion Lennox
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
isbn: 9781474004015
isbn:
She’d hinted as much to Marcel the previous evening, but she knew he didn’t really understand. Or perhaps didn’t want to understand. That was the thought that made her a little uneasy.
For the next few days she was Mrs Henshaw, deep in business and thoroughly enjoying herself. Vera introduced her to the chief members of the staff, who had clearly been instructed to cooperate with her. She went through the books and knew she was impressing them with her knowledge of finance.
Then there were the builders who had renovated and extended La Couronne, and who spoke to her at Marcel’s command. The more she listened, the more she understood what he’d been trying to do, how well he’d succeeded, and what he wanted in London. Ideas began to flower inside her. She would have much to tell him when he returned on Thursday.
He called her several times a day on the hotel’s landline. Wryly she realised that in this way he could check that she was there. Just once he called her cellphone, and that was when she was out shopping. He managed to sound cheerful but she sensed the underlying tension, especially when he said, ‘Don’t be long getting back to the hotel. There’s a lot to do.’
‘I’m on my way back now,’ she assured him.
Vera greeted her in a flurry of nerves. ‘He was very upset when he called and found you not here,’ she said.
‘Don’t worry; he tried my cellphone and I answered at once.’ She added reassuringly, ‘So when he calls, you can tell him that I’m not slacking on the job.’
Not wanting to embarrass the secretary, whom she liked, she got straight back to work. A few minutes later Vera’s phone rang and she shut the door to answer it discreetly.
Poor Marcel, Cassie thought. I suppose I can’t blame him for expecting me to vanish in a puff of smoke. He’ll understand, in time.
By now everyone knew who she was, and the power she possessed, and they would scurry to give her only the best. On Wednesday evening the cook and head waiter joined her at the table for a few minutes, urging her to try new dishes.
They were both attractive men, middle-aged but with appreciative eyes, and they enjoyed talking to her about Paris, which they insisted on calling ‘the city of love’.
‘You work too hard, madame,’ the cook told her. ‘You should be out there exploring this magical place, becoming imbued with its spirit. Then you would know what to do for the hotel in London.’
‘I’m afraid London lacks Paris’s air of romance,’ she mourned, and they solemnly agreed with her.
Once, long ago, Marcel had whispered in the night, ‘I will take you to Paris and show you my city. We will walk the streets together, and you will breathe in the atmosphere of love that is to be found nowhere else.’
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