The Final Seduction(18)

The blonde had started to look worried now. 'I shouldn't have said anything. Honestly, it doesn't matter!'

'Oh, but I think it does,' Shelley asserted. 'Why on earth would I not have to pay for my own room?'

The blonde coloured. 'Oh, heck! Look, I'm sorry. I certainly didn't mean  to cause offence. It's just that-well, the boss made such a fuss before  you arrived yesterday-he went around inspecting the place as if we were  entering the Hotel of the Year competition!'

Shelley registered what the girl was saying, but one word alone stood out and blasted its way into her subconscious.

Boss.

Boss?

She stared very hard at the receptionist. 'Who exactly is your boss?'  she asked, even though something told her she already knew the answer.

The blonde bit her lip. 'Mr Glover. Drew Glover,' she enlarged unnecessarily.

'And he's the manager of this hotel?'

'The manager?' The blonde blinked her lashes rapidly and nearly raised a  smile at this. But not quite. 'Oh, no-o-o, he's not the manager! He  owns the hotel. Well, a part share. The biggest share, actually,' she  confided, and this time she did wink.

'He owns it?' Shelley recited dully. 'This hotel?'

'Oh, yes!'

'Anything else besides?'

'Such as?'

'Well, he hasn't bought up the local golf-course while I've been away? Or the boatyard at Milmouth Waters?'

'Oh, no!' laughed the blonde. 'But he's got quite a few properties  dotted around Milmouth. He has a reputation for being something of a  wheeler-dealer in these parts.'

'Oh, does he?' questioned Shelley faintly.

The blonde had started to look really worried. 'Only we weren't supposed  to say anything-not to you. That was the whole point. He told Dee-she  does the opposite shift to me-'

'The redhead?'

'That's right!' The blonde nodded her head worriedly. 'He told her that  no one was to let on to you that he was anything other than an ordinary  punter. That there was to be no fuss. I just thought that this morning … '

'This morning what?'

'I can't!' The blonde shook her head. 'Mr Glover'll kill me,' she breathed.

'Only if I tell him. I might decide not to.'

The blonde looked at her hopefully. 'Why would you do that?'

'In exchange for a little information.'

'What kind of information?'

Shelley glanced down at the woman's name-badge, then fixed her with a  steady stare. 'What were you expecting to happen this morning, Moira?'

The blonde blushed. 'Well, I thought he might have told you about himself some time during the night.'

Some time during the night. The words reverberated round her head, heavy  with implication. Shelley stared at the girl in horror. 'Are you  implying that Mr Glover and I spent the night together?'

The blonde looked as though she wished a trap-door would open up for her  to disappear through. 'I didn't mean to cause any offence-honestly, I  didn't. It's just that you didn't come down for breakfast, and we  haven't seen him, and someone said you looked very close at dinner last  night, and so I put two and two together-'

'And came up with five hundred and forty-five?' suggested Shelley drily.

'Oh, heck!' Moira moaned. 'Why didn't I just keep my big mouth shut?'

'I'm very glad you didn't.' Shelley heaved out a long breath and the  question which followed it was not one which should have been number one  on her agenda. 'He has women to stay here a lot like this, does he?'                       
       
           



       

'Oh, no! He has a reputation for being picky,' the girl revealed. 'Women  throw themselves at him all the time- I suppose that's not very  surprising when you think about it. But he's ever so choosy.'

'Is he, now?' asked Shelley, more grimly than she meant to, but took  pity on the blonde's abject expression. 'Listen, I think I'll pass on  breakfast. I'll just nip up and pack my bag, and while I'm doing that  I'd like you to total up my bill for me.'

'But I can't do that!'

'Why not?'

'He's written "G" at the top-see?'

'And "G" stands for?'

'Gratis!' said Moira helpfully.

Free! Shelley felt so incensed that she had to clench her fists by her  sides to stop herself from howling with rage. 'Just work out what I owe,  will you, Moira?' she said quietly.

She was back in minutes, having thrown everything she'd unpacked into  the overnight bag, and she wrote a cheque for the amount she owed,  resisting the desire to deface it with insults.

She left the bill on the reception desk, and was almost at the door when  she saw Moira waving it in the air. 'Don't you want your copy, Miss  Turner?' she enquired anxiously.

Temptation lifted its provocative neck and Shelley succumbed to it.  'Give it to Mr Glover, will you?' she said. 'Tell him that I would  suggest a use for it, but I'm sure he can work out for himself what that  is!'

She drove like the clappers back to the house and was getting out of the  car when Jennie came outside, as though she had been watching for her.  Shelley's first thought was that she really shouldn't wear those yellow  checked trousers. They did her bottom no favours whatsoever. Next time  Jennie went shopping, maybe she would ask if she could tag along.

'How was the Westward?'

'Fine,' said Shelley shortly.

'You look all strung out,' Jennie observed. 'What's the matter-didn't you sleep?'

'On the contrary. I slept like a log-'

'So I suppose it's safe to suppose that my brother wasn't with you?'

'Just what is it with your brother?' Shelley exploded. 'Is he such a  stud that when any woman with a pulse walks into his life the whole  world thinks he's sleeping with her?'

'You were engaged to be married, Shelley, remember?' Jennie reminded her  gently. 'And I came knocking on your door yesterday, remember that? The  sparks between you two were flying so hard that I was half afraid I was  going to combust when I walked in!' She frowned. 'Well, if Drew isn't  responsible for those tight lips-what's the matter?'

Shelley considered her options. She was planning to have a very serious  word with Drew. If she asked Jennie about his connections with the  Westward, then she might very well report back to her brother. Which  would spoil the element of surprise. What did they say? Forewarned is  forearmed. And she certainly wasn't going to do him any favours like  that.

'Oh, I've decided that I can't keep swanning around the place as though  I'm on holiday,' Shelley told her blithely. 'So I've come back here to  get things kick-started.'

Jennie grinned. 'Good! I've been without a neighbour for too long!'

'Could I use your phone to get on to the water and electricity people?'

Jennie waved her arm in the direction of her front door. 'It's all  yours! And it's past mid-day. Why don't you stay and have some lunch  with me, or did you have a late breakfast?'

'I'd love lunch-I'm absolutely starving!' said Shelley smoothly, neatly avoiding the reason why.

She followed Jennie into the house on exaggerated tiptoe. 'Should I whisper?' she asked, doing just that. 'Is the baby asleep?'

Jennie shook her head and smiled. 'No. Drew has taken her out to the beach.'

Some invisible force whacked her hard in the stomach. 'Drew has?'

Jennie's smile widened. 'Well, don't sound so surprised! He dotes on  her! He's wonderful with her, too-and Ellie thinks that he is the most  fantastic person in the entire history of the world!' She glanced down  at her watch. 'I'll go and make some lunch. The phone's over there. Help  yourself.'

'Thanks.' Putting annoyingly persistent thoughts of Drew being wonderful  with babies right out of her head, Shelley flicked through the  directory until she found numbers for the electricity and water boards.  Then spent a frustrating ten minutes on the phone to each of them before  replacing the receiver and collapsing on the sofa with a yelp of  exasperation.                       
       
           



       

'Trouble?' asked Jennie mildly, coming into the room carrying a tray  which held a plate heaped high with sandwiches, and a bottle of wine.

'Bureaucracy,' Shelley scowled. 'Need I say more? Apparently, they can't  get either of the services connected until the end of the week because  of some stupid system of priority! The end of the week-I ask you!'

'Oh, dear. Here-' Jennie handed her a glass and filled it '-drink this, it'll make you feel better.'

Shelley groaned as she took a mouthful. 'Mmm. It does.' She sat upright  and assumed an expression of horror. 'What's happening to me, Jennie?  Last night I went to bed still wearing my make-up and now I'm drinking  wine at lunchtime!'

'It's a long, slippery slope!' Jennie agreed gravely. 'And do you know what I'd do in your situation?'

'You'd leave town, or crawl under the bedclothes and pretend none of it was happening?'

'Nope. I'd get Drew onto the case.'

'Drew?' questioned Shelley darkly. The secretive, controlling Drew, she  wanted to add, but resisted. Even if a brother and sister fought like  cat and dog, there was still such a thing as sibling loyalty. And she  couldn't really remark to Jennie that Drew was the person she was least  likely to ask for help about anything. Not until she knew what reasons  lay behind him taking her to his hotel, and pretending he was just Joe  Ordinary. And oh, hadn't she fallen for it-hook, line and sinker?