Emergency Engagement

CHAPTER TWO

R AFAEL LOOKED AT Sammy’s unprepossessing house from behind the wheel of his sleek, black BMW. The house was nestled in a row of similarly plain houses and was a pointed reminder of what he had escaped. The claustrophobia which had engulfed him for the two years he and his father had put down roots in a town very close to this one swirled around him. There was so much love for and impatience with his dad wrapped up in a small village where everybody knew everybody else—not to mention hope and despair.

He knew that this was a sweeping and unfair judgement of the place, but it was one that came from his gut. He had paid a fleeting visit back to the area when he had decided to build his hotel because, aside from his own personal experiences, the place was one of tremendous natural beauty, more than capable of holding its own against the saturated Cotswolds countryside or Cornish coastline, and it was ripe for just the sort of development he had in mind. If this worked out, he would consider something commercial in the area. It would be perfect for the sort of business development that wasn’t reliant on access to London and he had a number of companies that would thrive in the wild Yorkshire Dales.

Coming here now felt more personal because he was back to see someone who had been a part of his life all those years ago. She’d lodged in his head since she’d showed up at this office the day before. He’d pictured her fierce, determined face, relived the shock of seeing her in the first place and had known that, thanks to her, a Pandora’s box of memories had been opened that he hadn’t been able to squash since she’d stormed out. He wasn’t the sort who had much time for a past that couldn’t be changed, but it seemed that the past didn’t have much respect for that, and had decided to reassert itself after over a decade of conveniently hibernating.

Rafael could have simply posted the portfolio back to her, or emailed her to arrange a drop-off, but in the end he had decided on the spur of the moment to hand-deliver it. He could use the opportunity to visit the land agent and have another look around the hotel and the properties so that he could determine what he wanted to do before delegating his instructions.

He’d debated whether to phone ahead first, but in the end had decided to simply swing by. The fact that the first page of her portfolio was generous with information about where she lived and the various ways in which she could be contacted seemed to be fate inviting him to pay her visit.

And, in truth, reading through the pack she had prepared for him had opened his eyes to a guilty conscience he hadn’t thought he possessed: guilt that he could have been more sympathetic to his father; guilt that his antics must have meant yet more worries for him at the time. He had since set up his dad in style, and always made sure to keep in touch, but nothing could ever make up for lost time.

Sammy’s portfolio had also managed to make him feel guilty about her. He’d sent her packing without a backward glance. Was he so ensconced in his ivory tower that the pleas of someone whose future he had irrevocably altered should fall on deaf ears—even when he shared a past with that person?

Of course, he wasn’t going to redesign his hotel to accommodate her, which would be utter madness, but he had a couple of ideas. There was room for manoeuvre. Anybody else and he wouldn’t be sitting here now, that was for sure. But memories had a funny way of finding cracks in what he’d thought was rock-solid—such as his immunity to the weakness of any emotion.

Around him, the weak winter sun was already beginning to show signs of fading away, even though it wasn’t much after three in the afternoon. He half-expected no one to be in so, when he rang the bell, he was disconcerted to hear footsteps approaching. Then the door was opened just a crack, with a chain separating him from green eyes peering suspiciously at him.

‘I have something you forgot.’ He waved the portfolio at the four-inch crack in the door. ‘Just in case you’re wondering why I’ve shown up on your doorstep.’

‘I no longer need that, so you can go away. I have nothing to say to you.’

‘Look...’ He raked his fingers through his hair. ‘I’ve read your proposal—’

‘And you’re going to change your mind and let me buy the place so that I can open my café and develop upstairs for myself?’

‘Unfortunately not.’

‘Then goodbye.’

Sammy pushed the door shut and he rang the doorbell again. There was no reply. Rafael kept ringing. When she opened it yet again, he was still there, six-foot-four inches of implacable alpha male in no particular rush to leave.

She glared at him.

Rafael Moreno was the last person on the planet Sammy had expected to see standing outside her front door at three-thirty on a wintry Saturday afternoon.

She was just back from visiting her mother. She had planned to tell her everything about the hotel, and the abrupt end to all her plans for opening her patisserie, but the minute she had sat down she had looked at her mother’s thin, anxious face and had immediately decided that this was a bridge she would cross at a later date.

Caroline Payne hadn’t had the easiest of lives. She’d lost her husband and the father to both her children over two decades ago, and Sammy often wondered whether she had ever recovered from the loss. Seven at the time, all Sammy could remember was her mother’s quiet tears as she’d gone through the motions of living, but she’d really only existed, biding her time until grief would leave her alone. Sammy and her brother had hovered like ghosts in a void. Sammy could remember a sense that she’d been waiting until things returned to normal and would be less sad and confusing.

Unfortunately, it had taken a long time for things to return to normal. Her mother had met and married someone else with undue haste, desperate to be rescued from her inability to cope. John Deeley, the manager at the factory where her mother had worked, had entered their lives with an arrogant determination to take charge. Meek and mild-mannered on the outside, he had soon proved himself to be a bully who made up for his inadequacies by throwing his weight around within the four walls of the house. Shouting and belittling her hadn’t been enough to make their mother leave him; it was only when he’d raised a hand to strike Colin that she had finally snapped.

Even then, it had taken ages before he had finally disappeared from their lives and only after the police had become involved. When Sammy recalled that period in their lives, she still felt the grip of childish fear suffocate her.

Her mother had pulled herself together since those days. She’d got herself a decent job, studied in the evenings and worked her fingers to the bone to make sure she was never late with a mortgage payment. She had instilled in her only daughter the idea that men weren’t the be all and end all, and that independence counted for everything.

Sammy had known as she’d matured that her mother was devoting herself to making up for those lost years when she had been wrapped up in her misery, and then later, those years when she had subjected Sammy and Colin to the horror of a stepfather like John Deeley.

Sammy had done her best to reassure her mother that time had moved on since then. It was true that Colin had gone off the rails, which her mother had taken as her fault; but he was on the straight and narrow now. Sammy repeatedly told her mother that she was happy, was fulfilled, had found her calling, but guilt and worry had taken up residence in her mother’s heart and refused to budge. But, amidst all this, Caroline Payne had done her utmost financially and emotionally to support both of her children.

Working in various kitchens, training finally to branch out and do her own thing, had come at a cost to Sammy. There had been arduous hours and not much of a pay cheque. She had been grateful to her mother for the hand-outs she had given her over the years. She’d promised herself that she would get where she wanted to be and would repay her mum for everything she’d done for Colin and her.

So to break the news that the whole thing was off thanks to Rafael...no chance.

Which brought her right back to the man plonked outside her house, refusing to move.

‘People are going to start wondering what’s going on,’ he had the nerve to say with a glimmer of a smile. ‘If memory serves me, it’s the sort of place where curtains have a habit of twitching, and the neighbours’ curtains are remarkably close to yours...they’ve probably got their ears pressed to their front doors, even as I stand here trying to have a conversation.’

‘I’m not interested in a conversation.’

‘Let me in, Sammy. I may not have any intention of rearranging my entire project to accommodate you, but I’m willing to consider other options that could be of interest.’

‘What other options?’

‘Let me in and you’ll find out. Slam the door and I walk away, and you won’t hear from me again.’

‘You can come in, Rafael, but I’m warning you that, if you don’t have anything to say that I want to hear, then you won’t be hanging around for longer than five seconds.’

‘Consider it a deal. I’ve always been averse to making a nuisance of myself.’ He smiled as she unhooked the chain and pulled open the front door.

That smile knocked Sammy for six. It was something that hadn’t changed. It was the same smile that had had every girl in school round-eyed and mesmerised. It was a slow smile of utter self-assurance. She could see the boy he’d been very clearly.

She sighed and stood back, allowing him to sweep past her. She was only doing this because he’d held out a thread of hope when he told her that he had an idea... If not for that, naturally she would have sent him on his way, smile or no smile. She had zero interest in taking a trip down memory lane with the man.

‘Do you want something to drink?’

‘Graciously offered, I must say. What’s on offer?’

‘Tea or coffee. The coffee’s instant.’

‘I must say I’ve never had to work so hard for a drink before.’

‘You can go into the sitting room—’ she nodded to a door that was slightly ajar ‘—and I’ll bring you...?’

‘Tea...one sugar. That would be very nice.’

Rafael watched for a couple of seconds as she disappeared into the kitchen, kicking the door shut behind her.

Maybe she thought he might make a nuisance of himself by following her into the kitchen to talk when her mission was to get rid of him as fast as she could. No problem. As things stood, he was very happy to take his time looking round him. The unprepossessing fa?ade outside hadn’t concealed anything surprising or wonderful. The place was certainly no Tardis; it was just as small on the inside as it promised on the outside. If he stood with his arms outstretched, he would be able brush his fingers against the walls. A small staircase led upstairs. He noted the neutral paint, the faded rug on the flagstone floor and the single utilitarian light illuminating the space.

He nudged open the door to the sitting room. This was obviously where the magic happened. The bookshelves groaned under the weight of cookery books. The pictures on the walls were cute, little surrealistic depictions of food; peering closer, he could see that some were hand-painted. The furniture was old but invitingly homely and the little oval table in the middle, along with a couple of other bits and pieces, was the genuine article—antique, polished so that the patina of the wood gleamed. The room was an intriguing mix of old and new.

He was studying one of the hand-painted pictures on the wall when he heard her enter the room and turned to look at her without moving.

‘Yours?’

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘The paintings. Did you do them?’

‘You should be sitting and waiting for me, not nosing around.’

‘The temptation to inspect was too great. So, do you paint as well as cook?’

‘When I get the time,’ Sammy confirmed, nodding to a chair and pointedly placing his mug on the table next to it.

Rafael ignored her direction and took his time examining the cookery books. Some were huge; most looked very well worn.

He’d come to...what...assuage his guilt by offering her something to hang onto? Satisfy some never-before-suspected curiosity about the life he and his father had left behind all those years ago? Rafael didn’t know. His entire life had been devoted to ascent. Ascent to a place where he would be untouchable. He had built a fortress around himself and that was just how he liked it. Yet here he was, with a woman who felt free to say whatever she wanted, to hell with what he thought—and, yes, he was perversely enjoying the experience. He reckoned that there was clearly more to be said for novelty than he’d ever thought possible.

‘Are you going to sit or are you going to go through everything in the room with a fine-tooth comb?’

‘You haven’t changed. There was always a quiet determination about you, even when you were younger. Your face is the same as well. You haven’t aged at all. When you left my office—or maybe it would be more accurate of me to say when you stormed out of my office—I began casting my mind back to those two years my father and I spent in these parts and I was surprised at what I could recall after all these years.’

‘Really? How interesting...’

Her outfit the day before hadn’t done her justice, he decided.

What she wore now suited her: faded skinny jeans, an old rugby shirt, likewise faded, some soft sneakers with the laces undone as though he’d caught her in the act of kicking them off. She had the smoothest skin he’d ever seen and the boyish haircut somehow managed to make her look ultra-feminine and very delicate.

‘When we were at school, I remember other girls tossing their long hair over their shoulders and batting their eyelids, even though they were only about fourteen or fifteen. They were already learning the tricks of the trade.’

‘The tricks of the trade?’

‘How to flirt. You never did that.’

‘I’ve never seen the point of flirting.’

‘Never?’

‘Can we just move things along, Rafael? Maybe get to the point? You said that there was something you want to run past me?’

‘You told me that I led your brother astray—that he was the model student before I came along and decided to show him that there was more to life than burying himself in books.’

‘It was okay for you! You never had to work hard! Everything came naturally to you. You could bunk off class for days on end and then show up and know exactly what the lessons were about, exactly how to get straight As without trying.’

Sammy dropped onto the sofa facing him and looked at him with open hostility.

‘I’ve thought about that since I saw you. I hadn’t thought about it for years but it all came back to me.’

‘I don’t see the point of this.’

‘He was very unhappy. He used to talk about it. Not a huge amount, but enough.’

‘He talked to you?’

‘Why is that so surprising?’

‘Because...because...’

‘I can be an attentive listener.’

‘And you were, back then? Would that be in between taking the day off to explore the great outdoors and smoking behind the bike sheds at school?’ She arched her eyebrows with incredulity and Rafael burst out laughing.

His dark eyes gleamed as he tilted his head to the side and stared at her until she blushed.

‘They were tough times for you and your brother. He used to talk about a stepfather...the name escapes me.’

Sammy’s mouth dropped open.

‘Colin talked about Deeley...our stepfather? That all happened before you showed up!’

‘I think he was still in the process of getting over it,’ Rafael said quietly. ‘Whatever it was. He was never that expansive on the subject although, in fairness, I wasn’t always one hundred percent on the ball. Which brings me back to the accusation that I was a bad influence—I wasn’t. I was just a catalyst for his anxieties to come out into the open. Just in case some of your annoyance that things haven’t panned out the way you wanted them to might have to do with the fact that I am the Big Bad Wolf in your eyes, from a historic point of view.’

The tea had gone cold and Sammy’s thoughts were all over the place.

Colin, who was three years older than her, had seemed so contained; he had seemed just to get lost in his schoolwork while everything had swirled chaotically around him. But was Rafael right? Had he just been there...clever, wild, non-conformist, expecting nothing...allowing Colin to get rid of things buried deep inside? He’d been pretty rebellious after Rafael had left, but then he’d settled down. Now that she looked back on it, something had changed—he’d mellowed.

She heard him ask very softly, into the silence, ‘And what about you?’

‘What about me ?’

‘It was a long time ago, but whatever disruption your stepfather caused must have affected you as well...’

And just like that Sammy was thrown back to the past—to how devastated her mother had been after Oliver Payne’s death and then how hurt and disillusioned by the mess that had come of her second marriage to John Deeley.

If Rafael had developed a talent for recall, then he wasn’t the only one. She could remember how she had scorned those girls who had tried so hard to get his attention and, worse, how she had hated herself for secretly being as fascinated by him as everyone else seemed to be.

He had cast a spell over them. Reluctantly, she was forced to concede that her anger at finding out who had bought the hotel and pulled the rug from under her feet was partly fuelled by him being who he was—when really he’d just been a boy who had become an incredibly successful man and now wanted to invest in a community he had once been a part of. He hadn’t been personally spiteful towards her in buying the place she had saved up for. It had just been business for him—as he’d said.

She forced herself to meet his piercing stare with a bland expression. In the very short space of time that she had been in his company, he was already getting under her skin. She wasn’t going to start spilling her heart out to him and tell him all about her miserable time when Deeley had been around. She wasn’t going to revert to being the shy fourteen-year-old peering at the cute boy who could have any girl he wanted.

‘We all have things in the past that have affected us one way or another,’ she said politely. ‘You must have stuff you’d rather not talk about, and fortunately...’ she paused for dramatic effect ‘...I won’t be asking you to tell me all about it because I’m not interested.’

‘That’s very, very...’ Rafael’s lips twitched with suppressed amusement ‘...reassuring.’

‘So maybe we could get back to the reason you’re here?’

Their eyes locked.

‘What else do you do aside from baking and cooking?’ he asked.

‘Sorry?’ Sammy was confused. Why was he avoiding getting down to the business of why he had come here in the first place?

‘I read in your spiel that you trained under some big names. I take it you have experience across the board when it comes to your culinary skills? I could have looked you up online but I wanted to ask you face to face.’

‘Of course. I work twice a week at a restaurant close by. It has a Michelin star and it’s excellent for keeping my hand in with the basics of French and Mediterranean cooking. I also advertise my services as a personal chef, which can be extremely challenging. My heart lies in the intricacies of baking, though, which is why I’ve decided to start with a café that does light food and specialises in pastries. You’ll appreciate that I have to make ends meet somehow. I’ve sacrificed quite a bit to get experience over the years. I had to work extremely long hours. Putting aside enough money for the deposit on the café has been a labour of—’

‘I’ve got that message loud and clear. Here’s the thing... I’m hosting an important series of meetings on a tiny island in the Caribbean in two weeks’ time. It’s a deal that involves the CEOs all coming together to dovetail the sale of several of their companies to me. But it’s important that the deal is done smoothly and, most importantly, in the space of a week. I’m hosting them at one of my new hotels—it’s not officially open to the public yet. There’s a new restaurant in the hotel that I’m on the verge of opening. I’m willing to try you out as Head Chef while we’re out there. You’ll be able to show me a variety of skills.’

‘Head Chef...? Small island...? Caribbean...?’ She found it difficult to keep up with what Rafael was saying. The words were coming fast at her and she barely had time to pin them down. What on earth was he saying?

‘Excellent weather this time of year.’

‘But... I’m confused.’

‘Impress me.’ He leaned forward, arms resting on his thighs, giving her his undivided attention. ‘And I’ll hire you to steer the restaurant. You can have free rein to come up with whatever menus you like, just so long as there’s an emphasis on local produce. It won’t be a permanent situation—six months, the first of which will be the week of the meetings. Of course, I’ll stay on after my clients have left to oversee the final touches, but I’ll be out of your hair. After those six months are up, you’ll be free to return here and open whatever kind of restaurant you want. You’ll be paid enough so that buying a place of your own will be more than affordable. You’ll also have me on your CV.’

‘I’ll have you on my CV?’

‘You successfully run my restaurant in a start-up hotel, and your database of clients will be guaranteed. You just have to let it be known that you impressed me.’

They looked at one another and Sammy eventually rolled her eyes.

‘You are an extremely arrogant human being, Rafael Moreno.’

Rafael grinned. ‘I know. I’m working on it.’

‘So,’ she said, swiftly bringing the conversation back to logistics, because she’d been tempted to laugh. ‘If the restaurant is only now in the process of...of being operational, then how is it going to be possible for me to cook anything? What’s the equipment like? And how many...er...people are going to be there?’

‘Twelve, including partners.’

‘Okay.’

‘The equipment has been ordered. You can oversee what’s coming. Consider it the start of your new, exciting career.’

‘And until the stuff arrives—sandwiches and barbecues on a beach?’

‘That does sound reasonably relaxed,’ Rafael mused. ‘And relaxed is the aim of the game for the week. But, no. No sandwiches or barbecues on the beach. High-end fine dining, champagne and caviar, and interesting excursions for the other halves during the day when business is being done. I have a local guy already in place for that. You look a little bewildered.’

‘Should I go along with this...? I can’t just stay put over there when you and everyone else has left after the meetings are over.’

‘You’ll have a fortnight to return here so that you can sort out your affairs before you return. Six months isn’t very long. You might think that I would want you to stay put for longer, to prove your worth before I make a decision, but...’

‘But?’ Sammy echoed coolly.

‘But, if I’m honest, the fact that I know you in a manner of speaking changes the picture.’

‘You knew me yesterday and the picture didn’t seem to be changing then. If I recall, you sent me on my way because there was nothing you were willing to do for me.’

‘Maybe,’ Rafael admitted truthfully. ‘That was an instinctive reaction. I’m not a man who is sentimental when it comes to the past, but in this instance...’ He shrugged, but his eyes were serious and thoughtful. His voice became rough. ‘Let’s just say that I read what you’d written in your proposal and maybe I’m more sentimental than I thought. I also think you have the sort of personality to get the hotel moving in the right direction quickly.’

‘And what sort of personality is that, if I could ask?’

‘Argumentative and determined not to take no for an answer.’

His voice was matter of fact. There was no criticism intended, but somewhere deep inside Sammy felt a sudden stab of hurt because...were those feminine traits? She was twenty-seven, and yes she had had boyfriends, but had any of them come to anything? No. Her last boyfriend, a guy she’d been dating for seven months, had told her, by way of an excuse for breaking up with her by text, that she was a little difficult.

She’d taken that to mean that her independence had ended up getting on his nerves, but what was so wrong with being independent? She had learned valuable lessons from her mother whose helplessness had been her undoing until she’d found the strength and courage to realise that going it alone was no bad thing. Worse would be to feel that she had to rely on some guy to make decisions that affected her life.

She looked at the drop-dead gorgeous man who was looking back at her with a shuttered expression and she thought of the women he was routinely pictured with. None of them looked the difficult type.

‘I wish you’d just tell me what’s missing from this picture,’ Sammy said sharply, shaking her head clear of those silly, thorny thoughts. This all felt too good to be true—there had to be a catch.

‘We won’t be staying at the hotel,’ Rafael revealed. ‘It isn’t due to formally open until the end of the month, which will give my managers plenty of time to ensure there are no glitches.’

‘Where will we be staying? Where is this cooking going to take place?’

‘At my house there. I hope you don’t have a problem with that...’