Page 42 of Christmas at Sturcombe Bay
“Of course. Well, not quite so often now as when I was a kid, but still about half the time. And we have a Santa Claus Parade, and ice skating in Nathan Phillips Square.”
“It sounds like fun.”
“It is. Maybe you should come visit one day?”
“Oh no . . . I . . . That isn’t going to happen. I’m happy just to stay here in Sturcombe.” She glanced up at the hotel above them. “If I can.”
“What will you do if the hotel closes?” he asked gently.
“I don’t know.” Her voice was bleak. “I don’t have anywhere else to go.”
He reached out and took her hand. His impulse was to tell her that it would be fine, but he couldn’t be sure of that. And besides, he suspected that she’d rarely had cause to trust anyone, so why should she trust him?
Shelley felt a slow, melting warmth spreading up her arm. Alex was holding her hand. It was nice, but she probably shouldn’t be letting it happen. Hadn’t she learned, her whole life, that anything nice invariably came to a sticky end?
But oh, it was so nice.
She’d never really understood when people had talked about attraction. She’d had a few relationships. Well, more ‘friends with benefits’ arrangements, to be honest.
Maybe it was just because he had been so nice to her. And he’d been great at dealing with that sleazebag from the golf league, too.
But no, it was more than that. Every time she saw him she felt a little fizz, like static electricity running over her skin. And when he smiled, those dark eyes warm . . .
The romantic atmosphere wasn’t helping: the stars were as bright as diamonds in the dark velvet sky, and the sea was quiet, whispering softly over the sand.
Drawing in a deep breath she forced those foolish thoughts from her mind. But she left her hand in his as they walked slowly along the beach and up the ramp, and past the Memorial Gardens to the hotel.
As they reached the car park she turned to him with what she hoped was a confident smile. “Thank you for the fish and chips. Um . . . goodnight.”
He arched one dark eyebrow in question. “I thought maybe we could have a nightcap in the lounge?”
She shook her head. “Staff aren’t allowed.”
“Oh . . . right. Well, now that we’ve kinda broken the ice over eating together, maybe we could have dinner somewhere tomorrow night? Just to keep a poor lonely Canadian airman company?” he added with a quirk of humour.
She laughed, but shook her head again. “Staff aren’t allowed . . .”
“To date guests. But I’m not a guest anymore.”
“No, but you were. I could get the sack.” That wasn’t strictly true. There might be some sort of policy about it, but she’d neverknown it to be enforced. He wouldn’t know that, though, and it was a good excuse.
“Right.” His mouth quirked into a crooked smile. “Well . . . goodnight then.”
He held out his hand, and she put hers in it. “Goodnight . . .”
For one wild moment she thought he was going to kiss her, and the smile in his eyes almost unravelled all her defences. But she managed to draw her hand away, and fumbling for her key she hurried across the car park.
She opened the door and hurried up the three flights of stairs to the staff accommodation on the top floor. To her relief there was no one around.
The little room below the eaves was her haven, somewhere she could be at peace. The smallest room in the hotel, but that meant she didn’t have to share it.
She sat down on the bed and kicked off her shoes, still feeling that odd little fizz. Alex had actually asked her out — to dinner, no less. There was no way she could accept, of course. He’d take her somewhere posh, and she had nothing to wear that wouldn’t make her look as though she should be out the back washing the pots.
And it would be dangerous to let herself be tempted. He wasn’t for her. Apart from the fact that he’d been a guest of the hotel, he must be worth a few bob, to be able to stay here in England for several weeks, at least, when he had no job. And that posh Jaguar he was driving — it was a rental, but even so.
She was going to have to find a way to brush him off. It should be easy. She’d done it loads of times before. Except . . . she hadn’t been that attracted to those guys. She’d always tried to let them down gently, but if they wouldn’t take a hint, she hadn’t hesitated to be blunt.
But with Alex Crocombe . . .
