Paradise Nights: Taken by the Bad Boy. Kelly Hunter
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the phone.
‘Halfway down the goat track,’ she said somewhat breathlessly. ‘And if that wasn’t you in that damned helicopter I’m going to strangle you.’
Always nice to feel appreciated. Pete grinned. ‘Have dinner with me.’
‘Where?’
‘Anywhere. I’m heading for Chloe’s.’
‘I’m two steps in front of you. Is it too late to be coy about dinner and tell you I’ll check my calendar and get back to you?’
‘How fast are you coming down that hill?’
‘Fast.’
‘It’s too late. Besides, coy doesn’t suit you. Neither does discreet. Feel free to jump me in the foyer.’
‘Keep dreaming,’ she said. ‘I can be very discreet when I need to be. Get a room. Order something from room service. And wait.’
‘If there’s a God this fantasy will include you, a short black skirt, a frilly white apron, and not a lot else.’
‘God is not a minimalist,’ she told him blithely. ‘God is bountiful.’
‘Amen,’ he muttered, and finished the call before he fell over his feet in his haste.
‘No,’ Chloe told Serena sternly. ‘You can not be a room-service maid. Nico would kill you. Then he’d kill me for letting you.’
‘Who’s going to tell him?’ countered Serena, not begging, not yet. ‘Not me.’
‘This is Sathi, Serena. Everyone will tell him because five minutes after I put you behind the room-service trolley everyone will know. Wait. Meet the man in public, where everyone can see what you’re doing. And what you’re not.’
‘But I told him to call for room service.’
‘And I’ll tell him he can’t have any. Anticipation is good for a man.’
‘That’s all well and good, Chloe, but it’s killing me.’
‘You need a distraction.’
‘He is the distraction,’ she said earnestly.
‘Then you need another distraction. Here, read the paper. I circled a job in there for you.’
‘What is it with people thrusting newspapers with job applications in them at me?’ she grumbled, reluctantly taking the paper Chloe held out to her.
‘Gee,’ said Chloe. ‘Could it have something to do with your burning ambition to leave this place and make your mark on the world?’
There was that.
‘You can read it in my office,’ said Chloe.
‘Why can’t I read it here at the reception desk?’ While waiting for Superman to show up.
‘Office,’ said Chloe. ‘I mean it. Think of your reputation. Everyone else will be. And if that doesn’t stop you think of your family.’
‘I’m going,’ she muttered darkly. ‘But I want you to know you ruined a perfectly good fantasy. My body hates you.’
‘There’s baklava in the office. Marianne Papadopoulos brings it in as payment for letting her use one of the tables in the taverna for her bridge game.’
‘My body forgives you.’
‘Your body is fickle.’
‘No, it’s just a sucker for perfection in all its many and varied forms.’
‘Office,’ said Chloe. ‘And stay there ‘til Pilot Pete has gone to his room.’
‘I’d like a room,’ Pete said to Chloe, his duffel at his feet and his anticipation running rampant.
‘And it’s nice to see you again too,’ she said dryly, leaning against the counter and all but ignoring the credit card he held out to her. Finally, she took it and proceeded to open the bookings ledger with not nearly enough haste for his liking. ‘Looking for someone?’ she added as he scanned the foyer for a wanton goddess wielding a room-service cart.
‘If I were being indiscreet I’d say Serena, but I’m not so I can’t. And it’s nice to see you too, Chloe. How’s Sam?’
‘Waiting impatiently for the weekend, so he can go out fishing with Nico again. What kind of room?’
‘Any room.’ He paused to reconsider. ‘Something out of the way. Possibly soundproof, with a domed-glass roof and a view of the hinder stars.’
‘Uh-huh.’
A slight sound came from the direction of Chloe’s office, just behind the reception desk. The door was almost shut. Almost but not quite. ‘Did you just whimper?’
‘Excuse me?’
‘Never mind.’
‘You can have room seventeen, the same room you were in last time,’ she said. ‘Or I can offer you a smaller room, discreetly placed at the back of the hotel.’
‘You have seen Serena.’
‘Uh-huh.’
‘So how do I order room service?’
‘You don’t. Nico heard you fly in, along with half the island’s population. Theo’s here, Marianne Papadopoulos is here. The room service you require is not available right now. Have a drink or a meal in the taverna instead. Nico might join you there. Then perhaps Serena and I later on.’
‘So … no room service?’ he said.
‘None whatsoever.’
‘No glass ceiling and view of the stars?’
‘Lie on your side and look out the window.’
‘Chloe, Chloe, Chloe,’ he chided with a grin. ‘Where’s the romance in your soul?’
‘Buried beneath the weight of my responsibilities, which for some reason have grown to include both you and Serena. You don’t know this place or the people here. Even if you care nothing for your own reputation you need to think of Serena’s and that of her family. Trust me on this.’
‘I do trust you, Chloe. Which is why I’ll take your advice,’ he said with a sigh as he kissed his French-maid fantasies goodbye. ‘Any more advice?’
‘Yeah, it’s Theo and Marianne’s bridge night in there at table two and they’re a player short. Resist. And Peter … ‘
He waited.
‘I realise seduction comes as naturally to you as breathing, but try and travel a little slower than the speed of light this evening. Seduction’s frowned upon around these parts. Try something else.’
‘Like what?’
‘You could always try courtship.’
Courtship. Right. ‘As in bring a goat along for Serena’s grandfather?’
‘She’s Greek, Peter, not a Bedouin.’
‘So… no goat?’
‘Just respect her.’
‘You think I don’t?’
‘I think women come easily to you and always have. I think you don’t know the difference between courtship and seduction.’ She handed him the key. Not room seventeen. ‘And I think it’s time you learned.’
Pete made it to the out-of-the-way room at the back of the hotel, set his bag by the bed, took a fast shower and changed into fresh trousers and a collared white shirt. He could use a haircut, he decided after checking his appearance in the mirror. His hair was getting more and more like Tris’s mop, less and less like Luke’s regulation crew cut, but