Page 8 of Lilly
Day two was a Danish pastry and a freshly squeezed glass of orange juice. Day three was fruit scones and another pot of tea. And finally, on day four, which was Sunday morning, an entire plate of a full English breakfast was delivered to the door. I almost sent it away. This whole thing was getting ridiculous, but second the smell of bacon hit my nose I knew I couldn’t do that, so I took the tray from the sheepish looking guy stood at the door and wolfed the lot down. I barely came up for air it was sogood.
I hate to admit it, but I missed my little treats on my days off. It wasn’t the same, having to make my ownbreakfast.
Although I knew when he was due back—the gossip around the staff in this place is just like being in a school playground—I could tell from the moment I stepped foot in reception the next day. It was like everyone I’d seen was on edge. I hadn’t realised the atmosphere around the place had relaxed over the past week, but seeing the difference today makes itobvious.
“He’s back,” Imogen whispers in my ear as we gather for our morningbriefing.
“I know, everyone’s running around like they’ve got rockets shoved up their backsides,” I say with a laugh as Hilary comes in, looking a littleflustered.
Everyone gets given their schedule and a pep talk before they alldisappear.
“Lilly, hang on a minute.” Hillary lets the others grab their stuff and leave before she says anything. “Sorry I haven’t touched base with you the last few days. I’ve been busy training up new staff. How’s it going up there? I’ve heard greatthings.”
“Yeah it’s…uh…good, I guess. Great things from who?” I ask, a littlebaffled.
“Mr. Dalton, obviously. He says you’re doing a great job. Apparently, the place was perfect when he arrived back lastnight.”
I can’t help a surge of pride rush through me that the man who has such high expectations thinks I’m doing a good job. And then another thought hits me. Is he just saying this to sweeten me up for a date, just like he must be doing with the food deliveries? A bolt of anger hits me the second I think about it. How dare he? Just because he’s not bossing me around, then sacking me like all the others, it doesn’t mean I have to accept his dinnerinvitation.
I say goodbye to Hillary and storm towards his room, thoroughly ticked off. I do my usual routine around the suite, but it doesn’t take as long as usual as he hasn’t been here all week, so I continue a job I’d started but not finished recently—the high up stuff that hardly ever getstouched.
I’m quite happily balanced on the arm of the chair dusting the very top shelf in the living area when the slamming of the door makes me jump. I spin around in fright but manage to lose my footing at the same time. I close my eyes and brace myself for the pain of hitting the floor, but it doesn’tcome.
Instead, I find my face squashed against a rock-solid chest that just so happens to be covered in one of his usual expensivesuits.
“What are you doing, balancing on there? We have health and safety procedures for a reason, Lilly,” he chastises bluntly. Now this is more like the Mr. Dalton I was expecting since I started cleaning his suite: rude, abrupt and arrogant. I knew his true colours could only be covered for solong.
Thankfully, he puts me back down on my feet. I step away from him because his smell is messing with my brain’s ability tofunction.
“S…sorry, Mr. Dalton,” I say like a naughtychild.
“It’s Lucas,” hesnaps.
“Sorry,” Irepeat.
“What the hell were youdoing?”
“Dusting.”
“Well, get a ladder next time. The paperwork I’d have to do if you’d hurt yourself is a bitch of a job,” he says sternly, but his lip twitches up at the side, so I’m not sure how serious he’sbeing.
“Okay, well…thank you for…saving me?” I say, but it sounds like aquestion.
I just bend down to pick up my duster when he speaks again. Only this time, his voice is deeper and huskier—dare it say it?Sexier.
When I look back up at him, his blue eyes have darkened and he has a smirk on his face. “You should probably thank meproperly.”
“ShouldI?”
“Yes,” he states and he takes a step towards me. “Thank me by agreeing to dinner with metonight.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Mr…Lucas,” I say, correctingmyself.
“I don’t care if it’s a fucking good idea or not, Lilly.” I cringe at his harsh words. “I want to take you todinner.”
“No, Lucas,” I say, mustering up some strength from somewhere. Being this close to him and under his gaze makes it hard to think, let alone stand up for myself. “I think I’m finished for the day,” I say in a panic, because I need to get away from him as soon as possible. I have a feeling that he’s going to do whatever he can to get his own wayhere.
“Fine, but you will agree eventually.” Thankfully, he steps aside and lets me leave. It’s not until the door closes behind me that I let out the breath I was holding. I lean back against the wall and shut my eyes. I try to relax, but he’s got to me more than I want to admit. Eventually, I push off the wall and get as far away from him as Ican.
