The Chatsfield Short Romances 1-5
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And that was why, wildly optimistic sap that he was, he was here with a kick-ass ring in the inside pocket of his suit jacket.
Of course, it could also mean that he was freakin’ nuts.
Ben jammed his hands into the pockets of his suit trousers and looked around the lobby of the opulent hotel. Built and decorated in the ‘twenties at the beginning of the art deco period, it still retained the glamour and subdued sexiness of that era. The massive front reception desk had been hand-carved with geometric inlays of abalone shell and ivory and the couches and easy chairs, in bold jewel tone colours, were from the same period. Despite having a double-volume ceiling and a fountain with a brass statue of a naked sprite in the middle of the lobby, it still retained the feel of a rich country house…if the country house was Blenheim or Buckingham Palace.
Ben looked at his watch and cursed when he saw that Joely was fifteen minutes late. He was just reaching for his mobile when it rang and he knew it was her.
‘Honey, you’re late…again.’
‘Working on my birthday is contrary to all the rules of the universe but my day is over and it’s time to play!’ Joely replied and, despite her jovial tone, Ben could hear the exhaustion in her voice.
‘You ok?’ he asked, immediately concerned.
Joely sighed. ‘I really need that drink…and you.’
‘Bad day?’
‘Kind of…and really busy. Apart from being such a treat, having a drink at The Chatsfield is a nice bridge between the blood and gore of the patients from an RTA and my weekend off. Thanks for thinking of this, Ben, you spoil me.’
Only Joely, so undemanding, would think a drink was him spoiling her. He grinned, thinking of the flowers in the shockingly expensive suite upstairs, the rose petals on the bed, the champagne on ice. ‘Well, it is your birthday and tomorrow you can have the day off. Maybe, if you’re really good, you’ll get breakfast delivered to you.’
Which he wouldn’t have to make. Bonus.
‘That sounds like heaven; my only problem is that I’m not really dressed for The Chatsfield,’ Joely said.
Joely had the type of body that would look good draped in a Hessian sack and, for a doctor working in Accident and Emergency who spent most of her days in scrubs, the sense of style of a catwalk model. She always looked fantastic.
‘You’ll be fine.’
Besides he’d packed her a black dress, the sexiest underwear he could find and shoes—he hoped they were the right ones—for her to wear when they had dinner at the two-star Michelin restaurant on the second floor.
‘Well, I’m about three minutes away. Meet me in the lobby.’
‘Already here, babe,’ Ben answered on a grin before disconnecting the call. Standing by the huge fountain in the centre of the lobby, he turned as someone cleared his throat behind him. It was Harrison, the same concierge he’d spoken to when making all of the many, many arrangements it took to set this evening up. Ben, easily able to read people’s faces, immediately noticed that something was wrong.
He lifted his eyebrows.
To his credit, Harrison didn’t waffle and jumped right in. ‘Mr Duncan? The flowers and rose petals you ordered have been mistakenly delivered and set up in the wrong room, sir. My sincere apologies but in the confusion of making arrangements for a very picky celebrity and a demanding sheik and his entourage, my staff entered the incorrect room number and it was set up in room 390, not 309.’
Ok, easy to fix. ‘Can’t you just move it?’
Harrison shook his head. ‘Well, I would but the couple came back to the room unexpectedly and one half of the partnership believed his lover had organised it for him and the other begged me not to let the cat out of the bag.’ Harrison gestured to two well-dressed men walking through the lobby. There was a rose petal in the hair of the blonde.
‘Ah.’
‘While you are having dinner, we’ll dress the room again,’ Harrison said, wringing his hands. ‘Would that be in order?’
‘Sure.’ Ben shrugged.
‘Things like this don’t happen at The Chatsfield. Obviously, we’ll compensate you for our error and we’ll leave a thank gift in your room.’
Take a breath, Ben wanted to say, it’s flowers not a broken vial of the Ebola virus. Jo probably wouldn’t even notice; the woman could spot a potential melanoma at fifty paces but flowers? Not so much.
‘Thank you for your understanding,’ Harrison gushed before leaving.
Hell, in the scheme of things he had a lot more to worry about. Like whether he would ever be able to get his woman down an aisle. Or even talking about it…
He felt her hand on his shoulder and then caught her scent; something fresh and light that suited her vibrant personality. Ben turned and looked into those deep eyes surrounded by sooty lashes; traced the contours of her wide mouth, her high cheekbones. He knew he wanted to wake up to that face for the rest of his life…
He grabbed her and yanked her to him, sipping at her mouth while holding her head in place.
Let the campaign begin, he thought before he got lost in her kiss.
* * *
It didn’t matter how tired she was, how flat, being in Ben’s strong arms, feeling his masculine solidness always picked her up, Joely thought as she looped her arms around Ben’s neck and sank into his kiss. They’d been together for eighteen months, living together for six and she was still amazed that their relationship was as much fun as it was when they had just met, dizzy with the wonder of each other.
He was everything she’d ever wanted in a man and a part of her still couldn’t believe that she’d found him. Intelligent, yeah, you couldn’t be one of the country’s youngest venture capitalists without an overdose of smarts, and sexy with his ripped body and deep grey eyes. Having a lover with a hard body who had superior sack skills was a huge bonus.
But best of all, Ben was steady. Reliable. Thinking. While he wasn’t unemotional, far from it, he wasn’t volatile and she loved that about him. Unlike her crazy, hot-blooded, impulsive blood and step-parents and half and step siblings, there was no drama with Ben. He didn’t upset apple carts, throw his toys, make quick decisions without talking it over with her. He was rational and he didn’t make rash decisions.
She felt safe with him. Loved. Treasured.
‘Hey, Doc.’
‘Hey you. Want to buy a girl a margarita? Tequila makes me easy…’
Ben grinned. ‘I make you easy.’
‘This is true but buy me a drink anyway.’
‘Sure.’ Ben tugged her head back by gently pulling her ponytail and smiled down at her from his six-two height. ‘Happy birthday, Jo. What is it, your thirty-fifth?’
Joely mock glared at him as he placed a broad hand on her back and guided her to the bar off the lobby. ‘It’s my twenty-ninth, you twit, as you well know.’
Chapter Two
In the downstairs trendy, classy bar, Ben snagged a free bar stool and Joely wiggled her bum onto it as Ben ordered a margarita and a beer from the barman. The place was full of suited men and smart woman, coming into the bar for a Friday night drink. Just next to them sat a glossy couple who were looking everywhere but at each other.
‘Trouble brewing.’ Joely tipped her head towards them and Ben slid his gaze to the left.
‘Maybe they are both tired.’
‘She’s wound tighter than a spring and he would rather be having a root canal,’ Joely scoffed. She’d witnessed far too many failed relationships—her parents treated love like ping pong—and she’d become a master at spotting relationship trouble at an early age. You had to if you didn’t want to get caught in the emotional fallout that their marriages always ended in.
‘Ignore them,’ Ben said, picking up her drink and handing it to her. ‘Sip…’
Joely took the drink from him and tasted salt, the tang of citrus and the hit of tequila. Yeah, this was what angels would drink on their hen’ nights. Joely took another sip just to make sure that the first wasn’t a fluke and closed her eyes. Yeah, it was sooooo good. ‘My evening is starting off with an awesome margarita and, hopefully, will end in spectacular sex.’
‘Oh, I don’t know…’ Ben’s eyes always sparkled when he teased her, ’’ ’you’re getting ugly as you get older. I’m not really finding you that attractive these days.’
Because they had a very active and exciting sex life and she knew that he absolutely adored her, Joely just wrinkled her nose at him.
‘We’ve been married for six months and you’re cheating on me!’
And there it was, trouble. Big trouble. Joely pulled a face at Ben who, strangely, looked annoyed at the woman’s outburst.
‘I was drunk…’
‘That’s a stupid excuse!’
It really was, Joely agreed. Joely saw the flicker of disgust on Ben’s face and half-smiled. Ben, unfailingly honest, wouldn’t cheat on her—he’d dump her first. There was a certain level of comfort in that.
‘You spend too much money,’ the man countered. ‘I make it, you spend it.’
Ah, money. And that, ladies and gentlemen, was why she was so anal about being independent, about paying her way, paying rent, her share of the utilities, picking up the grocery bill. She never wanted Ben to think, for one moment, that she was with him for his money, of which he apparently had quite a bit.
‘I’ll contact the lawyers but you need to move out.’
‘You move out,’ the man countered. ‘I’m paying for the house.’
‘Get real.’
And the lawyers were the only winners here, they’d end up with a fatter bank account.
‘And another happy marriage bites the dust,’ Joely said, her voice low. When Ben didn’t respond she looked at him and frowned when she saw him running his finger around the collar of his shirt, his eyes on his glass of beer. ‘Ben?’
‘Yeah?’
‘You’re miles away.’
Ben flicked the still fighting couple a look that suggested that they had crawled out from under a rock. They were stupid not contagious and Joely wondered why they bothered him so much. She was pretty and he looked successful, like a million other couples in London. Ok, they were slightly touched to get married and he was a slug but why would that rile the normally easy-going Ben?
‘Let’s go,’ he suggested.
Joely looked at her half-full glass. ‘Not a chance. This margarita is heaven and we just got here. And we have free entertainment.’
‘Could’ve done without that,’ Ben muttered.
Joely sipped her margarita. ‘I want another one.’
Ben finally smiled. ‘Finish that one first, babe, and see how you feel. I have plans for you tonight and carrying you up to our room, rat-arsed, is not part of it.’
Joely lowered her glass in surprise. ‘We’re spending the night here?’
‘Yep.’
‘Why?’ Joely asked, genuinely confused. Why would they want to spend a night in a lavish hotel when Ben had a luxurious flat she’d moved into in January? What was the point of spending a fortune to sleep in another bed? She liked her bed…
Ben looked at her, puzzled. ‘I thought it would be romantic.’
Romance…geez. Ok, she wasn’t very good at all the gooey stuff that went with relationships and her job made her practical and no-nonsense. Ben was the same…in the first few months he’d done the flowers and chocolates thing but soon realised that him making them supper and giving her foot rubs got a more enthusiastic response from her. She and Ben just were… They didn’t need this superfluous stuff.
Besides, when her parents weren’t wanting to kill each other, they spoiled each other with over the top romantic gestures and it still left a sour taste in her mouth. Instead of wasting money on the weekends in Barcelona or Rome, on the seventy two red roses, the midnight picnics, they should’ve just spent that energy on loving each other…trying to stay together.
Your past has nothing to do with Ben, she told herself, forcing herself to smile. It’s a night in a nice hotel, Bennett, not a prison sentence.
She slipped her hand into Ben’s broad one and squeezed. ‘It sounds amazing, Ben.’
It didn’t, not really, but a little white lie could be forgiven since he’d gone to so much trouble to organise this for her birthday. ‘Luggage?’ she asked, still looking for an excuse.
‘Waiting for us at the front desk. Clothes for the morning, an outfit for tonight, your make-up bag and toiletries.’
God bless Ben’s organisational skills, she thought.
She lifted a naughty eyebrow. ‘Pyjamas?’
‘Jo…’ Ben drawled. ‘In the six months we’ve been living together, how many times have you slept in pyjamas?’
Ah, good point. ‘Never,’ she admitted. ‘Mostly because you take them off as soon as I get into bed.’
Ben’s eyes darkened with passion. ‘Exactly. So, we’re going to go up to our room, get naked, play around and then we’re going to have dinner and then we’re going to play around some more.’
Yeah, dinner and stunning sex. Brilliant birthday present!
* * *
Ben and Joely walked into the lift and when the lift doors closed behind them, Joely stood in front of Ben, her hand behind her, resting on his thigh. Ben wound his arm around her waist and nuzzled that sensitive spot just under her ear. The other couple in the lift, huddled into opposite corners of the lift and looking middle-aged and tired, glanced their way.
‘We used to be like them,’ the woman hissed at her husband and in the reflection of the metal panels Ben saw her pursing her lips.
‘Like what?’ the husband asked in an equally low but easily distinguishable tone.
Pursed Lips threw a malevolent glance at her husband. ‘You know…happy. Young, excited to be together…then we got married!’
Ben tipped his head back and swore silently. Seriously? Again? He thought the divorcing couple in the bar were a one off and he was now stuck in a lift with Mrs Unhappy and her Furious Spouse. Ok, universe, catch a clue. I want to ask her to get married, not reinforce her beliefs that marriage is very bad idea. Help me out here, ok? Happy married’s only please.
‘Can we not discuss this now?’ the man asked.
Good plan, Ben thought, hoping the wife would keep their marriage woes to herself. He saw her take a deep breath and knew that he was out of luck. Forgetting, or not caring, that Ben and Joely were in the lift with them, the volume of her voice lifted. ‘I cannot believe that you hauled me off to this stuffy hotel when you knew that I wanted to go to Vegas! Before we were married, you listened to me and paid attention to my needs!’
Ben wanted to send the man a sympathetic look but refrained. Guess you’re not getting lucky tonight, mate.
‘Twenty five years and it comes to this!’ The woman hissed the words and Ben saw Joely grimace.
This being a holiday in one of the greatest cities in the world, staying at one of the greatest hotels in the world. Not exactly a shabby proposition, Ben thought.
The lift stopped and the husband looked at his wife with blazing eyes and didn’t bother to keep his voice down. ‘Frankly, twenty five years is far too bloody long to put up with you and your miserable attitude.’
‘Wow,’ Joely said to Ben as the couple stomped out of the lift. ‘And I thought this hotel was supposed to be super-romantic, an oasis away from all of life’s troubles.’
Yeah, so did he. Dammit.
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