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www.millsandboon.co.uk
Table of Contents
Cover
Title Page
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
Copyright
CHAPTER ONE
CYNARA came to a startled halt as she stepped from the lift after her early morning swim in the hotel pool situated on the ground floor. The reception area was a hive of activity at only nine o’clock in the morning with people checking in and out of this busy London hotel. But one little boy stood out in that crowd as far as Cynara was concerned, quite a tall boy really at the ten he must be now, not far short of her own slender five foot frame.
Michael Buchanan! It was five years since she had seen either him or his father, but he had changed little in that time, still incredibly like Zack, with that dark vibrant hair and cool green eyes. Michael had been remarkably self-possessed even at five, but now he looked even more so, tall and thin, with an air of confidence that sat strangely on such a young child.
He was looking at the billboard that stood outside the Sunset Lounge, staring at the photograph of Cynara that was prominent on the display, smiling into the camera, her chin resting on her hands, her long flame-red hair streaming down to her waist, her velvet brown eyes gleaming with a hint of mischief, her nose small and snub, her mouth wide and smiling. She hadn’t changed all that much in the last five years either; would Michael recognise her? Admittedly they had only met the once, but it had been a memorable meeting, one that should stand out even in a young child’s memory.
Michael was frowning as he turned from the billboard, walking straight past her and into the waiting lift. Cynara didn’t move until she heard the doors close and the almost silent ascent of the lift, then the tension slowly left her. Whether Michael had recognised the woman in the photograph as the singer who had once been involved with his father she didn’t know, but he certainly hadn’t recognised the woman with the towel wrapped about her hair turban-style, the loose towelling dress she wore over her bikini making her look plumper than she really was.
If Michael were staying at the hotel, and it seemed he was, then that meant either Zack or Joanne were here too. But which one, that was the question that demanded an answer. If it were Joanne then she had nothing to fear, knowing that, despite Zack’s father’s opposition to the idea, the couple had filed for divorce four years ago. Zack’s wife had been unaware of his relationship with the young singer Cynara, the two of them already separated when Cynara and Zack met. But if it were Zack with Michael …!
She hadn’t seen Zack since that last fiery scene when he had told her to get out of his life. And she didn’t want to see him again now either!
Diane was one of the receptionists on the desk this morning, not one of the most helpful women when it came to the other staff at this exclusive hotel, but Cynara had always made it a policy to try and get on with the people she worked with. It made things easier in her profession, with her constantly changing venues.
Diane looked at her insolently as she approached the desk, a beautiful blonde woman who cared little for the fact that Cynara was the contracted singer at the hotel for the month, and so entitled to a little more respect than she had so far been shown by this woman.
‘Was that Michael Buchanan I saw you talking to just now?’ She had learnt in the last week of working here that politely working up to a subject didn’t work with Diane James, that you had to be as plain-speaking to her as Diane was herself. But that was okay with Cynara, she preferred honesty and forthrightness herself.
Glacial blue eyes met hers, Diane’s interest in the manager of the hotel well-known, her suspicion of all other women where he was concerned known too. ‘I’m not allowed to discuss the guests who stay here,’ she replied haughtily. ‘With anyone,’ she added pointedly.
‘Then Michael is a guest?’ she pursued in her naturally husky voice, a huskiness that had nevertheless become more pronounced the last few months after years of constantly working.
The other woman flushed. ‘I wouldn’t know,’ she said unhelpfully, her mouth tight.
‘Then would you know if Zack Buchanan were a guest?’ Cynara asked with sweet sarcasm. ‘Could you just tell me if he’s registered here?’ she snapped impatiently as she saw the other woman was about to refuse a second time. ‘Not his room number, just if he’s staying here.’
‘I certainly wouldn’t give you the room number of any guest!’
Diane was indignant at the suggestion. ‘Although I don’t suppose it would hurt to tell you we don’t have a Mr Buchanan registered,’ she added grudgingly.
‘Thank you,’ Cynara said tightly, her relief immense. Seeing Michael again after all this time had unnerved her, but having to see Zack again would do more than that!
‘Shouldn’t you go and get dressed?’ the other woman scorned. ‘I’m sure Daniel wouldn’t approve of a member of the staff, however temporary, walking about the hotel in that state of undress. Even if you are supposed to be a star!’ Her disparaging gaze ran over Cynara.
Cynara ignored the biting sarcasm, knowing a star was far from what she was. Not that this hotel didn’t provide its guests with first-rate performers, but she was just another highly talented performer in an overpopulated profession, had never received that ‘big break’ that would make her into a household name.
And she doubted Daniel Pope would mind in the least that she had just come from her swim. Diane may be the woman the hotel manager saw on a regular basis, but it certainly didn’t prevent him having a roving eye, his advances to her this last week more than obvious. But she didn’t have time for such relationships, or men that would bring the complication of another woman with them—she had learnt her lesson about those sort of involvements the hard way.
But at least she had learnt Zack wasn’t in the hotel! There could still be an embarrassing few moments if Michael should happen to have recognised her, although Joanne Buchanan could hardly make a scene about a relationship Zack had had when they were separated. From what Zack had told her about his wife she doubted Joanne was the type to make a scene in any case, Zack’s caring and respect for his wife not diminishing even after they had agreed their marriage had ended. It had been partly because of the way Zack still loved his wife that Cynara had got out of his life, that and—–
‘Shouldn’t you be rehearsing?’ the coldly scornful voice interrupted her thoughts. ‘After the way you performed last night I think you need it,’ Diane added bitchily.
Anger flashed in her velvet brown eyes, although Cynara’s smile didn’t waver for an instant. ‘I’m sure that if the hotel management have any complaints about my performance they will tell me so,’ she was stung into retorting.
‘Daniel is the management,’ the other woman hissed. ‘And after the way you’ve been throwing yourself at him he wouldn’t dare complain about you. I’ve met your sort before,’ she went on vehemently. ‘Daniel is just too enthralled by your beauty at the moment to see that you would drop him like a hot brick if someone with better prospects came along.’
Cynara should have been used to these sort of attacks by now, but it didn’t make the vindictive words hurt any less. All women in her profession were supposed to have slept their way to where they were, and Diane was far from the first woman to make such an accusation. But not by the flicker of an eyelid did Cynara let the other woman know how much she had wounded her; that would only give Diane a satisfaction she didn’t deserve.
‘I’ll see you later, Diane,’ she said cheerfully as one of the guests came to the desk for attention.
She knew Diane’s feeling towards her was completely illogical; she hadn’t encouraged Daniel Pope in any way. But Diane was so uncertain of her own relationship with the man that she suspected every woman he came into contact with, including those that weren’t interested.
Seeing Michael so unexpectedly had unnerved Cynara more than she had realised, and she knew that the rehearsals that morning weren’t going well, her thoughts elsewhere, five years back, in fact. She had been twenty-one then to Zack’s thirty-three, her eyes not quite open to the harshness and cruelty of the world, although she had had some experience of it. Her broken relationship with Zack had shown her once and for all that she had little to offer a man.
‘Do you want to stop for an early lunch?’ Sean, the piano-player in the residential four-piece backing group asked kindly. ‘You seem a bit off-colour this morning.’
‘Off-key, you mean,’ she corrected ruefully, her long hair secured at her nape, the trousers and loose top she was wearing her usual attire for rehearsals. ‘There’s no need to be kind, Sean, I’m lousy this morning, and I know it.’
‘That’s being too hard on yourself,’ he sympathised. ‘Your mind just isn’t on it today. Let’s all go eat, hm?’ He stood up, in his early forties, as all the group were.
‘You go on without me,’ she sat down wearily on the stage. ‘I need to cool off first.’ She eased the damp hair off her nape, evidence that she had been working hard, even if it hadn’t been up to standard, her blouse also clinging damply to her back. She was twenty-six now, had been singing professionally for eight years, and it certainly didn’t get any easier!
‘Like to join me for lunch in the coffee-shop?’
She looked round gratefully at the sound of that cheerful voice, the mutual dislike between Diane and herself not true of one of the hotel’s other receptionists, Josie Adams. She and Josie had become friends almost instantly, often sharing their breaks together.
Josie frowned as she came further into the large table-filled lounge. The room would be a hive of activity later this evening when Cynara did her show, all of the tables filled, the bar packed too, although right now the place was hollowly empty, the heels of Josie’s sandals echoing loudly as she came over to the slightly raised stage. ‘Everything all right, love?’ she asked gently.
‘Of course,’ Cynara gave a bright smile, shaking off the feeling of tiredness. ‘And lunch sounds good.’
‘It won’t do much for my figure,’ the other woman grimaced as they walked to the hotel’s coffee-shop, preferring its informality this time of day to the more formal atmosphere of the hotel’s other three restaurants. ‘But I need the energy before I start work.’
‘You go on at one?’
‘Mm,’ Josie nodded as they sat down at the vacant table in the corner of the brightly attractive room. ‘And from what I can tell the place is in chaos today.’
Her eyes widened. From what she had seen of the hotel, other than Diane’s normal bitchiness, everything was running as smoothly as it usually was. ‘It seems okay to me,’ she shrugged.
Josie shook her head. ‘Have you seen Daniel this morning?’
They both ordered a salad, and while they did so Cynara thought about the question. No, she couldn’t say she had seen the manager today, and that was unusual. Daniel was good at his job, really took care of the guests’ comfort, was always in attendance to see to their slightest whim. His Assistant Manager was noticeably absent too.
‘He and Mark are upstairs in the penthouse suite,’ Josie told her as they waited for their meal to be served. ‘With the owner of the hotel. He arrived late last night, unexpectedly, and now he wants a full report.’
Cynara knew that the London Excellence hotel was one of a huge chain of hotels all over the world. She had been contracted to work a month in each of the six largest ones and, although this was the first she had worked in, she knew it was run as well as its name implied. ‘I doubt Daniel will have much trouble with that, he’s very good at his job.’
‘And Mr Buchanan expects the best,’ Josie grimaced. ‘I don’t suppose you can blame him. He—–’
‘Buchanan?’ Cynara echoed sharply, sure that she must have paled. It was too much of a coincidence! ‘Do you mean Zack Buchanan?’ she asked dully, knowing it could be no other man, not when she had actually seen Michael, his son.
‘That’s right,’ the other woman confirmed. ‘He owns all the Excellence hotels. Hey, are you all right?’ She frowned as she noticed how pale Cynara had gone.
Cynara managed a wan smile. ‘I skipped breakfast, I think I just need my lunch.’
‘Sure?’
‘Of course,’ she dismissed lightly. ‘Tell me more about Zack Buchanan.’
‘Not much to tell,’ Josie shrugged. ‘Not much that I know, anyway,’ she added ruefully. ‘His father used to run things until four or five years ago, and he was even more of a tyrant than his son. At least Zack Buchanan only appears every six months or so and shakes the place up; his father had agents who came here posing as guests and then reported back to him.’
That sounded like the Nicholas Buchanan she had known, and Zack still sounded as if he preferred things to be straightforward and honest. Father and son were complete opposites.
Diane had lied to her about Zack staying here, and for that she could cheerfully have slapped her. She could have met Zack any time this morning without warning. It must be Zack’s turn to have Michael after all, although Michael’s lonely state this morning, and Josie’s comment that Zack was working with Daniel this morning, seemed to imply that he wasn’t able to give too much time to his son.
‘Zack Buchanan has to be the man they had in mind when tall, dark and handsome was quipped,’ Josie continued. ‘He’s all of those things. And more.’
Cynara waited until their meal had been served before prompting. ‘More what?’
Josie shrugged. ‘He’s cold, unapproachable. The only thing he seems to care about is his family. With his looks and wealth he should have a woman in every town.’
‘And?’ She nibbled uninterestedly on her salad.
‘Not a single woman, in any town. Unless he’s very discreet,’ Josie frowned. ‘Although something like that would be hard to keep secret in a place like this.’
‘I’ve noticed!’ she teased.
‘Just because I made a mistake about your relationship with your agent …’ Josie grimaced.
‘And proceeded to go out with him yourself when you knew we were just friends,’ she taunted.
‘Rod’s okay,’ the other woman blushed. ‘A bit older than I’m used to, but I like him.’
‘He likes you too.’ She smiled at the thought of the romance that had blossomed the last week between her two friends.
The conversation was clearly off Zack Buchanan as their meal progressed, and Cynara slowly relaxed. Although each time someone came into the coffee-shop she tensed. She wasn’t ready to meet Zack again yet, her hair untidy, her make-up far from perfect, her clothes creased from her morning’s exertion.
Nevertheless, she couldn’t just ignore Michael as he stood uncertainly in the doorway, looking anxiously around the room for somewhere to sit down. Cynara and Josie had finished their lunch, were lingering over coffee, almost ready to leave really, and yet there was something vaguely vulnerable about that too-thin young boy with the familiar green eyes, something she just couldn’t pretend not to have noticed.
‘I see a friend,’ she murmured to Josie, slowly standing up, knowing Josie’s eyes widened as she saw the identity of that ‘friend’. ‘I won’t be a minute,’ she said vaguely, hurrying over to Michael before she changed her mind. ‘Hello,’ she greeted almost nervously as she stood in front of the frowning boy.
Michael seemed disturbed by her approach, looking about him self-consciously, his hands thrust into the back pockets of his denims. ‘Hello,’ he finally returned defiantly, almost aggressively.
‘Would you like to join a friend and me for lunch?’ she offered lightly, wishing now that she had just minded her own business and left him to his own devices; he obviously didn’t welcome her attention. ‘There’s a vacant seat at our table.’ In fact the coffee-shop had filled up in the last half an hour, and the spare seat at the table she and Josie shared was one of the few remaining.
He glanced over to where Josie was watching them curiously, shaking his head. ‘I wouldn’t want to intrude.’
‘You wouldn’t be,’ she assured him, still uncertain about whether or not he remembered her specifically; he was at an age when he would feel aggressively embarrassed about any woman approaching him.
‘But you’ve almost finished,’ he shrugged dismissively.
‘I’d love another cup of coffee while you eat.’ She smiled encouragingly.
He seemed to hesitate, and then he nodded. ‘Just while you have another cup of coffee,’ he agreed grudgingly.
Cynara held back her smile as he made it sound as if he were doing her a favour. She could see Josie was a little disconcerted to have her employer’s son join them for lunch, and Cynara’s smile pleaded for the other woman’s understanding.
‘Hello, Michael,’ Josie greeted calmly as he sat down with them. ‘The chicken is good,’ she encouraged in a friendly tone.
He looked at her coolly. ‘I dislike chicken.’
Josie gave Cynara a look that seemed to say ‘oh well, I tried,’ before making her excuses to leave. ‘I have to get to work,’ she stood up. ‘I hope you enjoy your lunch, Michael,’ she added good-naturedly.
‘Thank you,’ he muttered.
Josie gave Cynara another shrug before going to join Diane at the main desk, obviously relieved to leave Cynara to it.
Michael ordered his meal with the air of a boy used to doing so, his tone dismissive. ‘I saw your photograph on the billboard outside the lounge,’ he met Cynara’s gaze coolly. ‘I recognised you instantly.’
‘I see,’ she nodded, not knowing what else to say.
‘Did my father know you would be here?’
Cynara flushed. ‘I wouldn’t know.’ This was the first time she had ever been cross-examined by a ten-year-old—even if that ten-year-old were bordering on thirty!
‘You mean you haven’t spoken to him yet?’ Michael scorned disbelievingly.
‘No,’ her reply was sharp.
His expression was sceptical. ‘I find that hard to believe.’
‘Michael—–’
‘Are you and my father having an affair?’
Cynara gasped her surprise at such a question being asked by this young boy. ‘No,’ she answered tautly.
‘Why not?’ he frowned. ‘You had an affair with him before, didn’t you?’
‘Michael—–’
‘I know you did, because he asked my mother for a divorce because of you.’
‘Michael, no! That isn’t—’
‘Grandfather told me all about you.’ The green eyes were as glacial as his father’s could be.
Cynara frowned. ‘And just exactly what did he tell you?’ she asked tightly, shocked and dismayed that Nicholas Buchanan had disliked her so much he had relayed his resentment to this young boy.
‘Does it matter?’ Michael dismissed. ‘The fact that you’re here now is enough.’
‘What do you mean?’ Dark brows met over puzzled velvet brown eyes.
‘Don’t tell me you didn’t know of Grandfather’s death,’ he scorned. ‘Or the fact that the whole Buchanan empire is now my father’s.’
Cynara had gone very pale. Once she realised Michael was well aware of who she was she hadn’t expected politeness, but this—–! Just exactly what had Nicholas Buchanan told his grandson about her?
‘Your father was always a rich man,’ she dismissed with a casualness she was far from feeling.
‘Not rich enough for you then apparently,’ Michael said contemptuously. ‘But he has it all now.’
‘Not all, Michael.’ She looked at him glacially. ‘He obviously has a son who possesses no manners whatsoever, a stupid little boy who has no idea what he’s talking about!’ She spoke to wound because she had been hurt herself, and she knew she had succeeded in humiliating him when she saw the pained colour stain the young boy’s cheeks.
He stood up noisily. ‘I know exactly what you are,’ he told her insultingly, his voice raised. ‘You’re no good, and—and if you ever come near my father again I’ll kill you!’ He turned and almost ran from the room, hoping she wouldn’t see the tears in his eyes.
Cynara swallowed hard, uncomfortably aware that she was the cynosure of all eyes, looking up with a shrug that seemed to say ‘kids!’ Michael was frightened, she realised that, knew that he was warning her off his father because he feared her past involvement with him. He needn’t have worried, Zack would probably cut her dead if they did happen to meet while he was staying here, had no reason to want to ever see her again, a fact he had made more than plain the last time they had spoken.
She didn’t leave the coffee-shop straight away, refused to look guilty, ordering herself another coffee when she explained to the waitress that Michael had changed his mind about the hamburger. She didn’t usually take so much caffeine into her system in the morning, and liked to rest in the afternoon for the evening’s show, but after meeting Michael, knowing that Zack was staying at the hotel, she doubted she would be able to rest anyway.
When she finally did get up to leave she knew it was with the intention of not letting Diane James think she could make a fool out of her just because her boyfriend had a roving eye!
She marched over to the reception. ‘You lied to me about Zack Buchanan,’ she snapped.
Blonde brows arched haughtily. ‘I did no such thing,’ Diane drawled.
‘You told me he wasn’t staying here,’ she reminded accusingly.
‘I said he wasn’t registered,’ the other woman said coldly. ‘And he isn’t. Neither Mr Buchanan nor his children ever register,’ she announced triumphantly.
Cynara felt the colour drain from her face. ‘Ch-children?’ she repeated dazedly; Michael had been an only child when she knew Zack five years ago!
‘His son and daughter,’ Diane nodded coldly.
‘Er—–’ She moistened suddenly dry lips. ‘How old is his daughter?’
‘How would I know?’ Diane dismissed uninterestedly. ‘All young children look the same to me.’
‘Kelly is about three,’ Josie rushed over to tell her, frowning at how pale Cynara was. ‘Is there anything wrong?’ she asked anxiously.
‘Er—no,’ she recovered with an effort from the shock of knowing Zack had another child. ‘I didn’t realise Zack—Mr Buchanan, had—had remarried.’ God, she had to pull herself together, she was making an idiot of herself. Why shouldn’t Zack have remarried after his divorce from Joanne, have had other children. She had made it plain she wanted no part of his life.
‘He hasn’t,’ Josie still frowned.
She moistened her lips again. ‘Kelly is Joanne’s child?’ she croaked, wondering if the shock could be making her voice fade in this way.
‘If that was his wife’s name, yes,’ Josie looked puzzled. ‘Look, are you sure you’re okay?’
‘Can’t you see she isn’t,’ Diane scorned. ‘Mr Buchanan is probably another one of those men that belong to another woman who Cynara’s been involved with.’
‘Shut up,’ Josie turned on her angrily.
‘But can’t you see it’s true,’ Diane derided with contempt. ‘Well his wife is dead now, Cynara, so why don’t you have another shot at him?’ she added insultingly.
‘Diane, if you don’t shut up I’ll find a way to make you,’ Josie warned softly.