The Spanish Tycoon's Takeover. Michelle Douglas
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His hand clenched into a fist. He’d readied himself for a fight—a dirty fight—and she’d pulled the carpet out from under him. She’d welcomed him to Aggie’s Retreat as if she’d meant it. The woman was a witch! Just like her grandmother.
He stiffened, forcing up a wall between himself and his new manager. He always built a wall between himself and bewitching women. It kept things simple.
With a Herculean effort he kept the frown from his face, refusing to reveal his surprise, refusing to reveal how she’d thrown him. He’d seen her photograph. He’d known that she was attractive. But attractive women were everywhere. In his world beautiful women were everywhere. What Wynne Stephens’s photograph hadn’t revealed was the life and animation that filled the woman, threaded through her with a vibrancy that made what she looked like a secondary consideration. He hadn’t expected that.
If she wasn’t a Stephens...
He pushed the thought aside. He had no intention of punishing Wynne for her grandmother’s crimes, but a part of him couldn’t resist glorying in the knowledge that the world had come full circle—that a Ramos now had a Stephens under his thumb.
He hoped his grandfather was looking down and laughing with the pleasure of it. He hoped it would allow his grandfather finally to find peace.
Don’t make the same mistakes I made.
I won’t, he swore silently.
He realised the silence in the foyer had grown too long and uncomfortable. Not that he cared too much about that. It suited him to make others uncomfortable. It made them pause for thought before lying or double-crossing him.
He gestured behind him. ‘This is Reyes, my driver.’
Wynne welcomed him to Australia too, her words accompanied with one of those big smiles. Xavier made sure to survey it only from the corner of his eyes. He had to meet her gaze head-on, though, when she turned it back to him.
‘I thought from your correspondence that your son and his nanny would be accompanying you too.’
‘They will be arriving later.’
She stared at him as if waiting for more. ‘Later...today?’
‘No.’
She stared some more, as if waiting for him to continue, but he refused to gratify her curiosity. He’d left Luis in Sydney, under the eagle eye of his nanny Paula. He’d given them free rein to sightsee for the next few days. He hadn’t wanted to bring Luis here to witness any potential unpleasantness. And, while the welcome hadn’t been unpleasant, he had no doubt that the next few days would be.
‘Right. Well...make sure to let us know when to expect them.’
‘Why?’
She blinked. ‘So that we can have their room ready, of course.’
One of those megawatt smiles slammed into him.
‘And so we can make a fuss.’
Her laugh! It could wrap around a man and make him want—Nonsense!
‘No fuss will be necessary.’
Her smile only widened. ‘That’s what you think.’ Her blonde hair bounced about her shoulders and down her back, crackling with life and energy, as she gestured to the woman behind the counter. ‘This is Tina, and we’re both determined to make your stay here as enjoyable as we can.’
He nodded at the other woman.
‘Now, tell me what you would most like? We’ve organised afternoon tea in the Drawing Room if you’d like refreshments. Tea, coffee, lamingtons—which are an Australian speciality—and chocolate chip cookies because...’ She shrugged. ‘We were expecting Luis, and what little boy can resist those, right?’
Xavier stared at the woman, dumbfounded. He’d just bought her motel. He wasn’t dropping in for tea!
She must have misread his expression, because he received another blast of warmth from that spectacular smile of hers. ‘We knew you’d probably be exhausted, and thought you might want a little pick-me-up before you took a tour of the place.’
‘We would prefer it if you simply showed us to our rooms.’
Her smile slipped, but only for a second. For that second, though, he felt like the worst of heels.
‘Of course.’
‘You can send refreshments to our rooms.’
A wall came down in her eyes then, though nothing else in her expression changed, and he bit back something rude. He’d meant his words to come out as sign of appreciation for the refreshments she’d organised, not as a command.
He glanced around, resisting the urge to roll his shoulders. ‘Where is your bellboy or a porter?’
Her laugh feathered across his skin. ‘Ah, that would be me.’
Before he could say anything she took one of the suitcases that Reyes had placed on the floor and started up the stairs.
‘Your rooms are right this way. I’ve made sure you have the very best rooms Aggie’s Retreat has to offer.’ A twinkle lit her eyes as she glanced back over her shoulder to Xavier. ‘I fear, however, that it’ll be a little more rustic than you’re used to.’
In two strides he was at her side and had relieved her of the suitcase. It was all he could do not to scowl at her. ‘You think I will find fault with my quarters?’
‘Absolutely not.’ There was a hint of mischief in her eyes. ‘I expect the motel to charm your socks off!’
A quaint expression, perhaps, but her optimism was misplaced. He kept silent on that point, however.
She led them to the very end of the first floor corridor, and he refused to notice the provocative sway of her hips. Had she deliberately placed them in the rooms furthest from reception?
She flung open a door to her right. ‘This is the Windsor Suite. Our best room, and yours for the duration, Xavier.’
He’d seen pictures of all the rooms, of course. But this wasn’t a suite. There were no separate bedroom and living quarters. The sleeping area was merely separated from the living area by a step, and the most ludicrous wooden railing that stretched from one side of the room to the other. A sliding glass door gave on to a balcony overlooking the rear of the motel. It was decorated with what he suspected were fake wrought-iron railings and fretwork. Still, it would do for now.
‘Opposite we have Luis and Paula’s room—the Westminster Suite—for when they arrive.’
She opened the door for his inspection. It was large, like his, and contained two double beds. Rather than a balcony it had a sunroom that overlooked the front of the motel. Reyes’s room—the Cambridge Suite—was next to it.
‘I hope you’ll be very comfortable. I’ll send up refreshments shortly. If there’s anything you need, just ring down to Reception.’
‘Thank you.’ He nodded. ‘Today we will settle in. Tomorrow we will get to work.’
By the time he was through there wouldn’t be a trace of the black-hearted Aggie Stephens left in this godforsaken motor inn. He couldn’t wait to get started. He would turn Aggie’s Retreat into a haven of such beauty and opulence that his grandfather’s name would be linked with innovation and luxury forever.
He would do his grandfather’s memory proud. He would turn this into a place that Lorenzo would have loved—an establishment worthy of him. Once that was done maybe the scalding ache that had taken up residence in his chest since Lorenzo’s death would finally go away.
XAVIER SET A deliberately ruthless pace the following morning. He wanted to gauge Wynne’s