Page 16 of Sparring Partners
“I do.” Rhonda pushed an errant strand of hair back under her hat. “Just had a delivery from Adrian Hardy.”
Luca’s stomach jolted and his face heated, but then it was very warm in the kitchen. “Is everything going well on that front?”
“Beautiful produce, delivered bang on time.” She nodded enthusiastically then lowered her voice. “We haven’t killed each other yet, but then I suppose we’re both beginning to realise we’re straight talkers. He’s caused quite a stir with some of the younger team.” She huffed out a laugh, and the muscles across Luca’s shoulders tightened.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, you’ve met him. Very attractive. There’s something Heath Robinson about him. All dark and brooding.”
“I think you mean Heathcliff.”
“Do I? Well, whatever, there’s definite competition to check in the produce when he delivers.”
“Don’t allow him to become a distraction.”
Rhonda jolted, her face creasing in offence.Shit. He hadn’t meant to snap, and now he had a pissed off executive chef on his hands.
“I’m sure his novelty will soon wear off,” Luca said, his tone mollifying, “and if it doesn’t, I know you’ll handle it well.”
The creases in Rhonda’s face ironed out.
Leaving the kitchen, Luca continued with his tour. Everything was serene and calm, everything as it should be. It was just a shame that the only thing out of control was the galloping beat of his heart. As he made his way back to his office, his thoughts kept turning towards the farmer.
Good looking, certainly. Brooding, that deserved a gold star. Sexy as they came, and when Adrian’s intense green eyes met and held his own… Luca’s stomach tightened and his cock grew heavy. What the hell… Tugging his jacket down, he hurried up the staff only set of stairs and darted into his office, slamming the door behind him. Leaning hard against it, he closed his eyes. What if anybody had seen his… He tried to gulp, but his throat was dry.
He’d worked in enough hotels to know rumours ran rife — most of them untrue — and that news travelled fast, its truth or otherwise of no concern. Throughout his career, he’d trodden with care, throwing not even the smallest scrap for others to rip apart and gossip about. And that was exactly how it was going to stay.
Opening a bottle of water from the small fridge that sat in the corner, he drank deeply, the icy water calming him down. He needed a break, just a couple of days away. He was overtired, that was all, no wonder when he worked all the hours god sent. He pulled out his mobile, ready to call Alex, when there was a knock on the door, and one of the admin staff poked their head around the corner.
“Mr. Graham, there’s a Mr. Hardy wanting to speak to you. He’s one of our fresh produce suppliers. If you’re busy, I can ask him to make an appointment.”
Luca blinked. “Erm, no, that’s fine.” He swallowed hard. It really wasn’t fine at all. Maybe Adrian should make an appointment. For next week. Or next month. “Just give me a couple of minutes, will you.”
Luca rubbed his hands down his face. It was as though he’d summoned the man up just by thinking about him. Thank god he’d got himself under control. He glanced down at his groin and grimaced. Yes, his cock may now be behaving, but the same couldn’t be said for his nerves, which were sparking and lighting up like a Christmas tree. He was tired, he’d been working flat out, he was feeling overstretched. That was all it was. Tugging down on his cuffs, straightening his tie, and brushing away the always non-existent piece of dust from his lapel, Luca paused in front of the mirror.
Staring at his reflection, all was calm and composed, his surface without a hint of ripple. Looks were deceiving and right now they were the biggest deception of all. He opened the door.
In the small outer office, Adrian lounged on a sofa. He dominated the room, seemed to take all the air from it, and for a moment Luca’s chest grew heavy as his throat constricted and his breathing laboured.
“Mr. Hardy.” How was it possible that his voice was smooth and modulated? “You wished to see me? Come in, please.”
Adrian got to his feet, his movements economical. He was wearing the same jeans as when they’d met in the café, encasing those long, muscular legs. No black leather jacket this time, but a worn and soft looking plaid shirt, open over a T-shirt as green as his eyes.
“What can I do for you? There’s no problem, is there, with continuing to supply the hotel? No issues with Rhonda, I hope?”
“I said I can meet your requirements, and I can. And Rhonda’s fine.” Adrian’s words were as direct as his gaze. He reached into the hip pocket of his jeans, and retrieved a slim, silver pen.
Luca stared at it, his mouth dropping open. How and why did Adrian have it? How and why hadn’t he missed it? A moment’s nausea bubbled up in his stomach.
“Thank you.” Coming forward, he held out his hand. Adrian passed it across, their fingers touching, just the briefest of seconds, sparking and burning Luca’s skin. “How did you…?” His voice sounded too loud, too unsteady, in the quiet of his office.
“The café. When you put your name in the books. I must have picked it up by mistake when I rushed off. I’m sorry if you thought you’d lost it. It’s a good pen, a bit more than a Biro.”
“Yes, it is. I don’t actually use it very often, but it’s got a lot of sentimental value. My late grandfather bought it for me. Thank you for returning it.”
Adrian ran his fingers through his hair, and Luca followed the movement. Thick and glossy, Adrian’s hair looked soft and Luca wondered what those strands would feel like running through his?—
“What? Sorry?”
