Shielding His Christmas Witness. Laura Scott
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A challenge lurked in her dark eyes.
Okay, she was ready for a fight. He wondered what her life had been like that she was so passionate about doing something different. “What makes you think I intend to stop my grandmother, or you?” Part of him wanted to give her whatever she wanted. He sat down in a chair that looked comfortable, but wasn’t.
“I saw the way you looked at your grandmother. You looked at me the same way.”
Hunter held up a hand. “I’ll admit my grandmother is pretty impulsive and I do question her sanity at times, but she is an adult. And she has all her faculties.” He assumed she did. “But you....” How did he say the words struggling to get out? She looked like she belonged in a country club, not a casino.
“You think I’m going to take advantage of her, don’t you?”
“I’m more concerned about my grandmother taking advantage of you.”
A surprised look crossed her face as if she had to think about it for a minute. “Why would you think that?”
“Because she’s a bulldozer.” And Lydia looked like a stiff breeze would blow her over. “She’s an expert at reading people in order to give them what they want so she can get what she wants from them.”
“Your grandmother has been nothing but kind and encouraging to me. Maya adores her.”
“That’s how my grandma operates.” Hunter remembered when he’d been under his grandmother’s spell. He always fought it, but in the end gave in because giving in was so much easier. She just knew how to reel a person in like a big dumb trout.
“But...” Lydia floundered for a reply. “But she has such a clear vision. And she knows so much.”
“I’m pretty sure hotel and casino management isn’t on her résumé.” He could hear his grandmother’s voice coming from the open door of Maya’s bedroom. She was laughing.
“Isn’t it the same as managing a home?”
He studied her for a moment, stilled by the intensity in her chocolate brown eyes. She wasn’t as frail as she looked. The way she titled her head and watched him in such a composed manner made him wonder how his grandmother had talked her into joining the poker game. “Home management and hotel management probably have similarities, but on a much larger scale.”
“I’m sure Jasper is going to help us. And we do have experienced managers. And now we have you. Your grandmother thinks you’re capable of rising to any occasion.”
That was because his grandmother wanted him to do something. He hated feeling so cynical about Miss E. She was a master manipulator and no one got in her way when she was focused on a goal. “I have to think about this.”
Her eyebrows rose. “Think fast. We have things that need to be done and you have the expertise we need.” Her voice was soft and almost commanding. Something about her reminded him a bit of Miss E. She wasn’t asking him, but commanding him to do her bidding. Maybe he should get back in his car and return to San Francisco. His grandmother was a force of nature, but this woman looked soft and yielding yet already he could see she had a will of iron. She reminded him a little bit of a pit bull.
He forced himself not to smile or give in to make her happy. This woman was lethal. “What do you think I can do?”
“This is a luxury hotel and casino, and while we need to maintain our older clients, we also need to find a way to attract a younger clientele. Older clients think luxury comes with the room, but younger clients are willing to pay extra for them. And the one thing I’ve noticed after a couple months here in Reno and in Lake Tahoe is that there is money here. It’s quiet money, not very flashy, and buried deep. And I want to get that money for this hotel.”
He was surprised about her assumption about Reno. She had a depth to her that her exterior only hinted at. And any man would be a fool to underestimate her. “And you want a spa. Classy, elegant and...”
“Restful. A spa should be a treat. People want to be pampered.”
Me, too, Hunter thought. “Who doesn’t want to be pampered?”
“I want to create a more understated elegance. I want class with that comfort.” She closed her eyes while she thought, leaning back against the colorful cushions.
You want you. Maybe Miss E. wasn’t wrong about bringing Lydia Montgomery in. She knew what women wanted. “Understated elegance and comfort costs money. How far are you willing to go to get that?”
“I have money. Not as much as Reed Watson, but enough to cover my third ownership.”
“Who is this Reed person?”
She opened her eyes. “I haven’t met him since he’s away dealing with a family emergency. I do understand he’s a good friend to your grandmother.”
Hunter needed to check up on Reed Watson. “What do you consider elegant?”
She tilted her head, thinking. “Renaissance, Italy. Beautiful gowns, beautiful furniture. Elizabethan England. Regency England. Or maybe art deco, art nouveau. Or maybe Paris in the thirties. Josephine Baker, Langston Hughes, James Baldwin. Imperial Japan was beautiful. I can just see serene gardens and koi ponds like the one in the lobby.” Her eyes went dreamy and far away as she recited her litany of possibilities. “Napoleonic France.” Her face glowed with her ideas.
“These times of incredible beauty were always precursors to incredible disasters and upheavals,” Hunter said. Her enthusiasm was contagious. He just wanted to impress her. Who the hell didn’t want to do that for her?
She opened her eyes and glared at him, her dark eyes shining. “Mr. Russell, I am impressed that you know your history, but you’re ruining my dreams with your knowledge.”
“Hunter. Please call me Hunter. I’m an architect and being practical goes with my job description.” He understood the importance of artistic aesthetics, but they warred with functionality every time. His specialty was the preservation of historic homes. He’d never built a spa before. If he accepted the challenge, he would be spending time with Lydia, getting to know her. He turned over all the possibilities in his mind.
“You smell a challenge,” she said.
“I’m not sure I like that smug look on your face.”
“You’re in. I can tell.”
“I’m thinking.” Hunter didn’t like knowing how easily anyone—especially Lydia—could read him. “Why are you doing this?” Thoughts whirled around in his brain and the idea of a spa started to appeal to him. He would have to do some research, but research was something that came naturally to him.
She was silent for so long he thought she wasn’t going to answer him. Finally, she said, “I don’t want my daughter to grow up like me.”
She surprised him with her honesty. He definitely wanted to know more. What had happened in her childhood to make her want something so different for her daughter? She was an interesting mix of sophistication and naiveté. “What’s wrong with you?”
She took a deep breath. “I was raised to be a...a decoration—first for my parents and then my late husband. If my daughter sees me doing something of value then she will know there is more to life than hosting cocktail parties and rearranging flowers.”
Hunter could think of nothing to say after that statement. He had a feeling not one ounce of fun had been built into her youth.
Maya came running back into the living room. Miss E. followed at a more sedate pace. “Momma, Miss E. and I were talking about horses. She thinks I should have one.”
Lydia gave Miss E. a long, thoughtful look. “She does, does she?”
Maya nodded enthusiastically, hands clasped in front of her, eyes pleading. “Can I have a horse, please, so I can ride with my prince?”
Hunter