Wedding Promises. Jennifer Faye
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she definitely wouldn’t have been invited to hang out with them.
‘Not until after the wedding, you don’t!’ Melissa squealed as she danced across the driveway in her ridiculously expensive leather boots and impractical bright white coat. Her blonde hair shone in the winter sunlight, her pale skin flawless as she smiled.
It was, Eloise decided, a good job she wasn’t the jealous type.
‘Can you believe it?’ Riley asked, falling into step with Eloise. ‘She’s making me wait until after the wedding. I have the most beautiful fiancée in the world and I’m not even allowed to touch her.’
‘Oh, like you haven’t touched me plenty before,’ Melissa said with a flirtatious laugh. ‘I seem to remember you could barely do anything else for the first month or two...’
Eloise picked up the pace just a bit, relieved when the Gatehouse came into view around the edge of the trees.
‘Not for the last forty-eight hours!’ Riley protested. ‘It’s cruel and unusual torture; that’s what it is. Eloise agrees, don’t you?’
Eloise pretty much thought it was none of her business, and she’d rather keep it that way, but the client was the client.
‘I think that seeing the Bridal Suite might tempt her resolve,’ she said diplomatically.
‘That’s why he won’t be staying in it until the wedding night.’ Melissa’s tone was triumphant, and the small smile on her face as she looked at Eloise made it clear that she knew exactly what she was doing. ‘Oh, didn’t Laurel tell you that Riley would need a separate room until Saturday?’
Eloise bit the inside of her cheek in a desperate attempt to keep a hold on her temper. Melissa knew perfectly well that she hadn’t—probably because she’d never mentioned it to Laurel in the first place. In fact, Eloise suspected that she’d just come up with it at that moment and was now using the idea to play Eloise and Laurel off each other. That would be just the sort of thing she would do.
Well. Eloise might have fallen for it when she was sixteen. But she wasn’t sixteen any longer.
‘Actually, she did suggest it might be a possibility so I’ve got a very special room put aside for Riley in the hotel, just in case he needed it.’
Riley looked impressed. Melissa looked murderous. Eloise smiled serenely and moved past them both to unlock the door to the Gatehouse.
‘Now, how about we take a look at where you’ll be spending your first night as man and wife?’ she said. Then she could get onto building an extra hotel suite for Riley. There had to be a solution somewhere. She just hadn’t thought of it yet.
Even Melissa had to be impressed by the Gatehouse Suite, and Riley’s eyes were huge as Eloise gave them the tour. Morwen Hall was a luxury hotel from top to bottom but the Gatehouse kicked that luxury up a notch further. The stone building had been completely renovated—walls had been knocked through to turn what had been a small family home into a spacious suite for two. Downstairs was laid out as an open-plan living area, with a small kitchen counter running along one side. It wasn’t a functioning kitchen—that wasn’t what guests needed here. Instead, it had a small fridge filled with champagne and another stuffed with high-end chocolates, caviar and other delicious treats. A top of the range coffee machine with quality china fulfilled guests’ caffeine needs, and an extensive menu was available twenty-four hours from direct dial to the front desk.
Downstairs was, Eloise thought proudly, impressive. But upstairs blew it away.
The four-poster bed that dominated the room was larger even than the one that had rendered Noah speechless. The bed linens were snowy white Egyptian cotton, with luxurious touches in jewel-coloured satin and silk accessories. The large bay window—complete with cushioned window seat—looked out over the river, and the en suite bathroom featured both an ultra-modern shower for two and an old-fashioned roll top bath.
‘It’s gorgeous,’ Melissa admitted eventually. Then, apparently unable to resist criticising something, she added, ‘And I’m sure I’ll be fine, all the way out here.’
It’s two minutes from the hotel. Less if you don’t stop to grope your fiancé.
‘Well, I’ll make sure you have my room number,’ Riley said, wrapping an arm around Melissa’s waist and giving the four-poster a good, long look. ‘Just in case you need me to come down here and...save you.’
Rolling her eyes, Melissa pushed him away. ‘You and Eloise should go and find your room. I’m going to take advantage of that lovely bath.’
‘Right,’ Eloise said, thinking fast. ‘Your room. Just follow me!’
As they left Melissa to her bath, Eloise spotted the first of the guests’ cars pulling up the driveway. She was out of time, and all chaos was likely to break loose soon. And Riley still needed a room, even if she doubted he’d actually end up sleeping in it at all.
Mentally, she ran through the rooming list for the wedding in her head. After Noah’s, the next best room in the hotel had been earmarked for Riley’s brother, Dan. He wasn’t bringing a guest, so at least that would only be one person to rehouse. Plus his flight was the last one in, so that gave her more time to try and fix things. And if the worst came to the worst and she couldn’t magic another room from a no-show, or persuade Melissa to let Riley back into the Gatehouse, at least Dan and Riley might not be too horrified about having to share...
It was the best she could do for now. Decision made, Eloise covered the distance between the Gatehouse and Morwen Hall with large strides, leaving Riley trying to keep up. She’d show him to his room then get back down to supervise check-in. Laurel would be back to help—and provide much-needed moral support—before the welcome drinks.
And then all Eloise had to do was resist the considerable charms of Noah Cross for the evening.
How hard could that be?
Then she remembered Noah’s smile, and realised that there was a very real possibility that she might be doomed.
IN THE END, the nap had to wait.
Noah placed the script reverently on the bed in front of him and reached for his phone without ever looking away from the cover sheet. He didn’t want to break the magic spell the writing had cast over him before he spoke to his agent. He wanted to live in this feeling—in the brilliance and excitement of a perfect story. The way he felt he knew every one of the characters inside out as if he was the characters.
This film—this was the one he’d been waiting for.
He couldn’t remember being this excited about a part since... Well, since he’d first moved to LA with Sally.
Swallowing hard at the memory, he pushed it aside and punched the right combination on the screen to call Tessa, his agent.
‘I want this part,’ he said, the moment she picked up.
‘Noah?’ She sounded sleepy. Noah did a quick mental calculation of the time difference and winced. Then he decided that, since she was awake now anyway, he might as well continue.
‘Eight Days After,’ he said. ‘I want the part. The lead. None of this supporting actor stuff. I want the main attraction.’
‘Really?’ Tessa was awake now, if the pep in her voice was anything to go by. ‘You think you’re right for Marcus?’
‘Definitely,’ Noah replied, ignoring the surprise in her voice. ‘Trust me. They want me in that role. I will knock it out of the park.’ There was a pause on the other line, and Noah’s confidence took a slight dip. But not for long. He hadn’t got where he was by letting criticism knock him back. ‘What? What did they say about me? You might as well just tell me—you know I’ll hear it eventually anyway.’ That was how