Slow Dance With The Best Man. Sophie Pembroke

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       CHAPTER TWO

      THE INSIDE OF Morwen Hall was rather more what Noah had been expecting than the weirdly Gothic exterior. With its calming pale green walls and dove-grey trim, the luxurious but comfortable velvet and leather sofas in the main lobby and the deep pile rugs laid over the original stone floor, it was hard to believe Eloise’s stories of ghosts. Inside, Morwen Hall could be any luxury five-star hotel anywhere in the world. Still, Noah couldn’t shake the feeling that there might be more to this house, under the surface, than its owners wanted anyone to see.

      And more to its manager too. Noah found his gaze fixed on Eloise as she shrugged off her pale grey coat, revealing a demure charcoal skirt suit beneath that went perfectly with the sensible black heels. He supposed that with such arresting hair and eyes brightly coloured clothing was just overkill.

      Still, he couldn’t help but imagine what she’d look like in the sort of dresses the actresses he knew wore on the red carpet. Something that showed off her figure instead of hiding it. Noah was a connoisseur of women’s figures, and Eloise’s definitely looked like one he’d like to explore further.

      ‘Melissa, Riley, would you like me to show you to your suite?’ Eloise asked. Noah supposed it was only polite to deal with the bride and groom first. Besides, it would mean she had more time for him afterwards—and more time for him to talk her into having a drink together later.

      Melissa frowned ever so slightly, a tiny line appearing between her eyebrows. ‘Actually, I need to speak with my wedding planner.’ She slipped a hand through the crook of Laurel’s arm and led her off to the side. ‘Why don’t you get our best man settled first?’

      Noah hefted his carry-on bag over his shoulder. He hadn’t seen his suitcase since the airport so he assumed it was being dealt with somewhere, and would magically appear in his room when he needed it. He loved hotels. They were almost as good as film sets for having your every need seen to before you even knew what you needed.

      ‘You’ll turn into one of those puffed up idiots who don’t know the value of a hard day’s work.’

      His dad’s voice in his head made Noah scowl, as it always did, but he shook the expression away before Eloise turned to face him and replaced it with his habitual charming smile.

      ‘Right. Okay.’ Eloise surveyed him with something akin to displeasure on her face, which gave Noah slight pause. Usually, women were delighted to score some alone time with him. And, from the way Eloise had stared at him on arrival, he’d naively assumed that she’d be the same.

      Apparently, he was missing something here.

      ‘If you’ll just follow me, Mr Cross?’ Eloise said, every inch the professional, as she headed for the elevators at the back of the lobby. They had a Gothic-style metalwork design painted on the doors, which amused Noah. As an attempt to make them fit in with the rest of the surroundings of Morwen Hall, he supposed it was as good a try as any.

      ‘Guess these didn’t come with the building, huh?’ he asked as she pressed the button to call one. ‘The elevators, I mean. Sorry. They’re “lifts” here, right?’

      ‘That’s right,’ Eloise said with a nod. ‘And no. They didn’t have lifts when Morwen Hall was built.’

      From her tone, Noah suspected she was already writing him off as a dumb American movie star. Well, she wouldn’t be the first—hadn’t his own father done the same? And there had been plenty more since—journalists, interviewers, all sorts. It was always fun to prove them wrong.

      ‘Gothic revival, right? So, nineteenth-century? I’d guess...1850?’

      If she was surprised Eloise didn’t show it. ‘1848, actually. At least that was when work started.’

      ‘Sounds like you know a lot about the place. Have you worked here long?’