Backfire. Metsy Hingle
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at Chase McAllister’s cutting reply.
What angered her most was that he had been right—the decision to sell an interest in the hotel hadn’t been hers. She had had absolutely no say in the matter. True, the hotel didn’t belong to her. It belonged to her father. But she loved the place, had practically grown up in it. She knew every piece of furniture, every antique that filled each of the hotel’s eighty suites. It was more than just a hotel, more than just a piece of real estate. It was her home. And the thought of strangers owning a part of it galled her, made her physically ill.
Drying her hands on the linen towels that bore the hotel’s entwined letters S and C, Madeline tossed it into the brass container designated for soiled linens. She leaned against the marble countertop and squeezed her eyes shut.
But there wasn’t a thing she could do about it. Not now. It was too late. And any hopes that she might have harbored of one day running the hotel were finished. Even if she could have eventually convinced her father that she was capable of running the Saint Charles, it no longer mattered. The decision would no longer be his. It belonged to some unknown board of directors on the East Coast who wouldn’t care about the hotel’s history or the fact that a Charbonnet had always been at its helm.
If only her father had given her a chance, confided in her. Maybe she could have helped him work out the financial problems without resorting to selling off a part of the hotel.
But he hadn’t. He hadn’t even bothered to discuss his problems or his decision to sell with her until it was too late. The realization made her angry, but more than that, it hurt. Because it just drove home what she already knew: in her father’s eyes she could never measure up. If she had, he would never have opted to sell.
Biting back a sigh of frustration, Madeline opened her eyes. No matter how hard she worked, no matter how good she was at her job, her father didn’t think she was capable of running the hotel. And now with Chase McAllister in the picture, she would never have the chance to prove him wrong.
At the thought of Chase McAllister, Madeline straightened. The man had unnerved her. She had been all too aware of him watching her. He had reminded her of a wolf, running his eyes over her lazily, as though he were contemplating taking a taste. Madeline shivered at the image of Chase’s mouth on her skin. She smoothed her fingers down the sides of her skirt as she recalled the feel of his palm, strong and hard against her own, when she had offered him her hand.
Hard. It was a good word to describe Chase McAllister. Despite the heartbreaker smile that told her he knew just what effect he had on women, there had been something hot and dangerous in his eyes when her father had introduced them. While working with a man like him might prove exciting, it would be unsettling.
Not that she was likely to have to worry about that problem. Madeline stifled a groan. After her remarks today, she doubted he would keep her on the hotel’s staff. She probably should just resign and get it over with. She was good at her job. She could hire on at one of the other hotels in the city. Heaven knew there were enough of them, new ones popping up like crazy since the opening of the casino. That’s why she had arranged to meet Kyle for breakfast, to ask for his help.
But the thought of working anyplace else made her want to weep. She loved the Saint Charles. It was in her blood. The hotel…the people, they were like family. She hated the thought of leaving. How could she just walk away?
Why should she have to? The stubborn voice inside her asked. She had more right to be here than Chase McAllister did. Why should she make it easy for him and his firm to take over her family’s hotel?
She wouldn’t, Madeline vowed. Not without a fight. She wasn’t going to quit. She wasn’t going to run away and hide. If Chase McAllister wanted her out, then he was going to have to fire her. Tipping up her chin, she slipped the strap of her purse over her shoulder and headed back into the garden room where McAllister was speaking.
“Majestic Hotels is pleased to add the venerable Saint Charles Hotel to its family of fine, luxury properties…”
At the rear of the room, Madeline listened to Chase deliver his speech in that deep, authoritative voice of his. The fact that he had memorized his remarks and not used any notes was a nice touch, she conceded. So was that devilish smile that he kept flashing at the audience. From the looks on peoples’ faces—particularly the female ones—it was working.
“…and who better to have as our partner than Henri Charbonnet, the gentleman whose family founded the hotel. I’m personally looking forward to working with Henri—” His amused gaze swept over the crowd and halted when he reached her. He paused, staring at her long moments. “And with his daughter Madeline.”
Madeline glared at him. He was lying through his pretty white teeth and she knew it.
As though he could read her thoughts, Chase smiled at her then. His mouth curved in the most wicked smile. It was warm and deep, intimate, the type of knowing smile a man might share with his lover. The effect was delectable, captivating…and disturbing.
“Handsome fellow, isn’t he?”
Madeline swung her gaze to the pregnant woman standing beside her. Chloe James. Friends all of their lives, Chloe was the closest thing to a sister she had. Chloe had always been the adventuresome one of the two, and right now Madeline didn’t trust the silly grin pasted on her face. “Chloe, I didn’t see you standing there.”
“Yes. I know. You were too busy drooling over the hunk.”
“I’m not going to even dignify that with a denial.”
Ignoring her, Chloe went on, “Not that I blame you now. He really is good-looking, and that smile. Lord, it’s enough to make a girl’s knees go weak. The man certainly is sexy. Don’t you agree?”
“If you like his type,” Madeline replied as nonchalantly as she could. Not for the life of her would she admit that her own stomach had done a flip-flop before she had reminded herself just who he was.
The other woman chuckled. “Madeline, darling, regardless of what your type is, a woman would have to be dead not to notice a man like him.”
Madeline arched her brow at her friend. “Need I remind you that you’re a married woman, Chloe James? And a pregnant one at that? I wonder what Paul would have to say if he heard you?”
Chloe wrinkled her pert nose at Madeline. “Lighten up, Maddie. I didn’t say I was going to take him home with me—not that I wouldn’t be tempted to. I’m just saying he’s easy on the eyes. You have to admit he’s a lot different from the sort of fellows we used to date.”
He was different from the men she usually dated, Madeline admitted. For one thing, Chase McAllister didn’t have her ex-fiancé’s polished good looks. Chase’s dark blond hair was a tad too long, brushing the collar of his shirt, to be fashionable. His bone structure was good, and he certainly knew how to fill out a suit. But his skin was too deeply tanned for a man who supposedly spent his days behind a desk. And while his mouth curved into the most enticing smile, the scar that slashed across his chin ruined any chance of him being considered handsome—at least not in a conventional way.
“There’s something about him,” Chloe said. “Sort of…untamed. Makes a girl wonder what he’d be like in bed.”
“Chloe!”
“Oh, all right. I’ll shut up. But you have to admit he is sexy. Especially when he smiles.”
And he certainly knew how to use that smile, Madeline decided, watching him charm the guests.
Chloe sighed. “You’re lucky. You get to work side by side with him.”
“Funny, but I don’t think of myself as lucky at all.”
Chloe’s expression sobered. “I’m sorry, Madeline. I guess I wasn’t thinking. I know how much you loved this place.”
“I still love it.” Madeline shrugged. “Don’t pay any attention to me. It’s not like my