Wishing Well(6)

“I can arrange it. But only if we hurry.” Lightning cracked the sky, the timing almost too perfect.

Reluctantly, she nodded. “Yeah, let’s go.”

It wasn’t the level of enthusiasm I’d hoped for, but it would do. It appeared Dirty Girl had accepted the challenge of trusting me, while I had accepted the challenge of transforming and owning her.





CHAPTER THREE


“I don’t even know your name.”

It was the first time she’d spoken since accepting my offer, her voice weak and unsure. With my hand locked over the handle of the gate leading into the private entrance wall of Wishing Well, I turned and peeked at a face that was tinged pink with embarrassment...or something else.

The rain continued to beat down on our heads, the winds ripping past to dot our skin with icy needles. Releasing the handle, I turned fully to gaze upon her, tucked my arm beneath my ribs and bowed shallowly before reaching for her hand to place a kiss on her knuckles. She snatched it away before my lips could touch her skin.

Grinning at her continued rebellion, I answered, “My name is Vincent Mercier. And yours?”

“Penny,” she answered, not offering me a last name to go with the first. As I straightened my posture, she wrapped her arms around her abdomen, her shoulders shaking in response to the wind that snatched at our hair. I could only see the long ends that hung out from the opening of her hoodie, my eyes tracing the deep mahogany color.

“It’s lovely to meet you, Penny. Shall we go inside?”

Lifting her gaze, she stared at the top of the six story hotel. All that stared back were windows. I’d made sure that the discreet gardens and small private niches were out of plain sight in the design. “I’m not dressed for a place like this,” she admitted.

“I agree, which is why we’re entering through a private entrance, one used by the staff and myself. I can give you the grand tour once you’re...respectable.”

Her eyes locked on mine. “These are the only clothes I have. I’m not sure how I can be respectable.”

Nodding, I responded, “We have some small boutiques in the lobby. I can buy you some clothes.”

Opening her mouth to argue, I raised my hand to silence her. When whatever words she’d wanted to say became trapped in her throat, I spoke as softly as possible, yet loud enough to be heard over the rain. “You can repay me from your first several checks. That is, if you accept the job I’m offering.”

“What kind of job is it?”

Laughter shook my chest. “Can we talk inside? Any more time out in these conditions and we’ll both be sick by tomorrow.”

Begrudgingly, she nodded, following me inside once I’d unlocked and opened the gate. It took all my will power not to glance back and gauge her reaction to the interior gardens, not to stare at the reflection of twinkling lights in her eyes. During the tour I planned to give her once the weather improved, I would memorize each reaction, every subtle change in her expression as she discovered the wonderland I’d created in memory of my first home.

For now, I would get her inside, I would assign her a room and I would enjoy dressing her for dinner. “This way,” I directed, opening a side entrance door and running into émilie as she rounded a corner into the hall.

“Monsieur Mercier!” Running toward me in the black and white maid uniform that was popular in the kitsch lounge on the first floor, émilie ran her hands over the lapel of my sodden suit. “You’re soaked,” she complained, her accent thick because she hadn’t been in the States for longer than a year. I’d hired her directly, imported her as I liked to think, only because the businessman enjoyed listening to her voice and looking at all her assets while winding down for the night.

Gently pushing her away with my hands on her shoulders, I smiled. “It’s fine, émilie. I have dry clothes upstairs. You should hurry back to the lounge. Theresa will be furious with you if you’re late again.”

She stepped toward me, her ruby glossed lip caught between her teeth. Unsure what to do, she flicked a glance behind me to see Penny standing silently. Disgust wrinkled émilie’s brow. Jealousy colored her cheeks. I knew better than to sleep with my employees, but sometimes a man enjoys a taste of home.

“I should go,” she finally agreed, her words clipped and hasty. I waited until she was out of sight before turning to Penny.

“There are rooms available on the fifth floor. I’ll grab a key from the lobby and escort you up.”

Penny didn’t answer immediately, instead choosing to shrug, the mannerism ineloquent. “Should I just stay here or whatever?”

Arching a brow, I answered, “Whatever works. Just stand there and ... drip ... or whatever.”

She glared at me, obviously not pleased with my mocking tone. Molding her would be an amusing task, although I wanted to kick myself for choosing a gem not yet hewn. Someone like émilie would have been far more simple a project, but simplicity is never as much fun. Making quick work of the halls, I approached the lobby desk and drew the same reaction from the staff as I had from émilie. Waving it off, I explained, “It seems I forgot an umbrella.”

John, the hotel’s manager approached the counter. “What can I do for you Mr. Mercier?”

“I need a key for one of the rooms on the fifth floor. I’ve brought in a new employee.”