Do Not Disturb (32 page)

“Oh?” The waiter looked unimpressed. His right eyebrow had taken on a life of its own, disappearing up somewhere dangerously near the line of his toupee, and his thin, neatly groomed moustache twitched with irritation. “And who might that be? Sir.”

“It’s, erm…” For some reason Ben’s mind had gone completely blank. Shaking his back foot as hard as he could, trying to pull it free, he willed himself to conjure up a name—any name. But it wasn’t happening. “It’s, er…it’s her!”

He pointed at the long-legged pool attendant. Just then, his foot suddenly burst free from the fencing, sending him flying, face-first, into the sand.

“Sian?” The waiter was fast approaching the end of his tether. “Sian is working at the moment, sir, as you can see. She doesn’t have a lunch date with anyone. Now, who are you? And why are you trying to break into this hotel?”

Sian, who’d spent a thoroughly dull morning carrying piles of towels back and forth from the beach to the laundry room, was watching the commotion by the fence with amusement. Rico, her boss, was a total bitch. He was obviously letting the poor blond guy have it. Now that he stood up she could see the intruder was enormous, twice Rico’s size at least. It was a bit like watching Pooh getting a dressing-down from Piglet.

“Miss Doyle. Come over here, please. Hurry up.”

Rico clicked his fingers imperiously, a favorite habit, and began hopping from foot to foot like an impatient hobbit.

Sian dropped her pile of towels and did as she was told.

“Do you know this gentleman?” he asked. A vein on his forehead was throbbing visibly. He looked seriously ticked off.

Sian looked up at the blond guy. He had freckles and kind of a bashed-up face, but there was definitely something attractive about him. She’d never seen him before in her life. But something about his urgent, pleading, wide-eyed stare made her decide to play along.

“Sure,” she said, scanning his face again for clues. “He’s my, er…he’s my…”

“Doctor,” blurted Ben.

“Yes.” Sian grinned at him. “Exactly. Thank you. He’s my doctor. How are you doing, Doctor…?”

“Slater.” Ben grinned back, dusting the sand off himself and offering his hand to his still-skeptical inquisitor. “I’m Doctor Benjamin Slater. Sian…Miss Doyle, is a patient of mine.”

“I see,” said Rico witheringly. “Well perhaps next time—Doctor,” he looked Ben’s garish surf-shorts-and-tank-top combo up and down, allowing his eyes to linger on Ben’s paunch with ill-concealed disgust, “you’d do us the courtesy of using the front entrance like everybody else. And of picking a more convenient time for your…consultations. Sian is on the clock now, as I said. She has a lot to do.”

Reluctantly taking this as her cue, Sian turned to go.

“No!” said Ben, grabbing her arm. He’d gotten this far after all. He may as well see it through. “You don’t understand. I’m afraid it’s very important. An emergency, in fact. I have to speak with her…with Miss Doyle…right away.”

“You’re saying this is a medical emergency?” said Rico. He couldn’t have looked more scathing if he’d tried.

“Exactly,” said Ben, turning from pink to scarlet at this second lie. “An emergency.”

Sian smiled. Cute. Definitely cute. And the Lock Stock cockney accent was to die for.

Rico wasn’t convinced for a moment, but decided he was tired of his part in this charade. He’d have words with Sian about it later. In the meantime, one of them needed to get back to work.

“Make it quick,” he snapped. “Very quick.” And with a meaningful glare at Ben, he turned on his perfectly polished heel and stormed off.

“So.” Sian cocked her head to one side, curiously. “What’s wrong with me, Doctor Slater? I must confess I’m dying to know.”

Close up she was even more stunning than she had been from forty meters away. With her pale skin and straight, silky brown hair she looked so…strokeable. And the white shirt-dress uniform she was wearing made her legs look even more endless than they had from the other side of the fence. “There is nothing at all wrong with you,” said Ben dreamily. “You’re perfect. That’s the problem.”

Now it was Sian’s turn to blush.

“Who are you?”

“Oh, fuck, shit, sorry. I’m Ben. Ben Slater,” he babbled nervously. “That is my actual name. I’m not a doctor. Obviously. That was a bit of a fib. I just wanted to think of something to get rid of Elton John,” he nodded toward Rico, who was still eyeing the two of them suspiciously from the outdoor bar, “and it was the first thing that popped into my head.”

“Genius,” Sian teased him. “He
totally
bought it.” For a long, awkward moment, silence fell between them.

Oh, bollocks bollocks bollocks
, thought Ben. Why was he such a lame-o with women? Why couldn’t the right words just flow for him, like they did for Lucas?

“Look,” he said eventually, screwing up the courage from somewhere. “I’m crap at chatting up girls. Especially American ones.”

“How many have you tried to chat up?” Sian looked amused.

“Oh, God, loads,” said Ben, unthinking. Then, noticing her grin broaden, he tried to undo the damage. “I mean, not literally
loads
. Some. You know, one or two. Shit.”

Sian laughed. “And are we really that different than British girls?”

“Fuck, yeah. You’re all bananas,” said Ben. “I mean, not you personally. You’re not bananas. You’re gorgeous. When I saw you from the beach just now, I sort of…found myself coming over here, and yeah, sure, then I made a bit of a tit of myself, but the thing is, what I was wondering was, if you’re not busy, you know, which you probably are, obviously…”

“I’d love to go out with you,” said Sian.

Ben did a double take. “Really? ’Cause American girls never fancy me.”

“Is that so?” She laughed again. He was such a dork, but it worked for him. “And you so suave and smooth and all? Incredible.”

Rico was advancing toward them again, and this time he’d brought reinforcements. Ben decided to quit while he was ahead.

“What time d’you get off tonight?” he whispered.

“Six,” said Sian.

“Great. I’ll pick you up outside the front of Palmers at seven.” After watching Ben vault back over the fence, cleanly this time, and run off down the public beach, Rico turned to Sian.

“You seem to have made a miraculous recovery, Miss Doyle,” he said archly.

“You know what, Rico?” she beamed. “I think I have.”

After the long, boring summer she’d had, a date with a handsome stranger was just what the doctor ordered.

Standing outside Palmers a few hours later in the one good suit he’d brought with him from London, clutching a wilting bunch of roses, Ben was sweating buckets.

What if she thought better of it and didn’t show up? He could hardly blame her. She was stupidly far out of his league anyway, plus he’d behaved like a complete fucking fruit loop this afternoon. If she had any sense, she was probably on the phone to her lawyer right now, sorting out a restraining order.

Then again, sometimes it paid to aim high and have a crack at a woman out of your league. Look at Billy Joel and Christie Brinkley. They used to live in the Hamptons when they were married, before Christie jacked him in for a bloke that didn’t need to wear stilts to kiss her. But then that bloke ran off with a teenage intern. Or something. Come to think of it, maybe Billy and Christie weren’t such a great example…

“Hi.”

His internal ramblings were interrupted by Sian, who emerged from the front door of the hotel in jeans and a cute yellow daisy-print sweater. Ben didn’t think he’d ever been so pleased to see anyone.

“Are those for me?” She nodded toward the flowers.

“No, actually,” said Ben, deadpan. “They’re for Sir Elton. I thought we ought to kiss and make up, you know. After this afternoon. Is he around?”

Sian giggled, and Ben felt his confidence rising. If he couldn’t be Brad Pitt, he could at least be funny.

“You look amazing,” he said truthfully, kissing her on both cheeks.

“Thanks,” she smiled. “I’m absolutely starving. Should we eat?”

He took her to a tiny out-of-town place, where there was no menu to choose from, just a different set meal every night. The concierge at the Herrick, a local boy, had told him about it this afternoon after he’d vetoed all of Lucas’s suggestions—the Almond, Tierra Mar, and the like—as being far too flashy for a first date. It was more like a farmhouse kitchen than a restaurant, with mismatched tables covered with ancient, threadbare squares of gingham cotton trimmed with red ribbon, and the
only lighting coming from cheap church candles wedged willy-nilly into old wine bottles. Sian loved it.

Afterward they drove back into town, where Lucas had invited Ben to join him at the launch party of a new club.

“We don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” said Ben, struggling to keep his eyes on the road rather than Sian’s tiny but perfect daisy-covered chest. “My friend Lucas has put us on the guest list, but it’ll probably be a bit of a scene.”

“Lucas?” Sian’s ears pricked up. “You don’t mean Lucas Ruiz, by any chance?”

“Yeeees,” said Ben warily. “Why? Do you know him?”

Please God let her not have already fallen for Lucas. Oh fuck. Maybe she’d even slept with him? That’d be just his luck.

“Not really.” Sian sounded reassuringly unimpressed. “He’s dating a really nice girl…”

“Lola, I know,” said Ben. “She’s lovely. Not as gorgeous as you, mind you.”

“Yeah, right,” Sian laughed. “Anyway, the one time I met your friend he looked right through me like I didn’t exist. Which I guess to a guy in his position, I don’t,” she added philosophically. “I don’t know. To be honest, I didn’t think much of him. Are the two of you very close?”

Ben thought about it for a moment. “We are, actually,” he said. “I’ve known him a long time. But we’re very different. I won’t deny Lucas can be a wanker when he puts his mind to it. He does love himself a bit.”

“A bit?” said Sian.

“But there’s a good bloke lurking under all the bullshit,” Ben qualified. “Honestly. He’s a seriously loyal friend. And he sees through a lot more of the pretentiousness around him than he lets on. I guess in the hotel business you have to make nice with everyone.”

“Maybe,” said Sian. “Then again, he hasn’t been too shy in making enemies around here. Anyway, let’s not talk about
Lucas.” Reaching over, she rested her hand on Ben’s thigh and smiled at him encouragingly. “It’s boring.”

“Fine by me,” Ben grinned. “I don’t even know a Lucas. Lucas who?”

Inside Omega, Lucas sat at the bar, rubbing his throbbing temples. How could people come to these places for fun? The music was merciless, pounding techno crap, the sort of violent, tuneless rant beloved only of neo-Nazi teenagers and the clinically deaf, and the cramped subterranean bar was heaving with more hot, sweaty, overexcited people than a Baptist church on Easter Sunday.

To make matters worse, Lola had been stuck to his side all night like fucking Teflon. At least, she had been until a few moments ago, when he’d finally snapped at her to give him some space, and she’d disappeared off to the ladies’ all upset. It was funny: when she wasn’t being insecure and needy, he was genuinely fond of her. But the cocky, devil-may-care party girl he’d had so much fun with last year seemed to have gone for good this time around. It was only a couple of weeks since Alex Loeb’s party, but she’d already started referring to him as her boyfriend—a warning sign if ever there was one—and quizzing him boringly about his movements whenever they weren’t together. Sooner or later, he thought gloomily, something was gonna have to give.

Catching sight of Ben hovering tentatively in the doorway, his eyes lit up.

“Slater! Over here!” he shouted through the din, waving wildly like someone bringing in a plane to land.

“Blimey,” said Ben, once he’d finally battled his way through the crowds to Lucas’s side. “I think my eardrum might have just shattered. Is it legal to play music this loud?”

“I wouldn’t call it music,” grumbled Lucas. “Drink?”

“Er, no, I’m all right. I’m driving,” said Ben. “I daresay Sian would like one, though. Angel?”

He stepped aside to reveal his date.

“Just a white wine spritzer, please,” said Sian, turning to Lucas. “We’ve met, actually. At that awful party out at the Loeb place. I was chatting with Lola. I think it was the night you guys got together. Remember?”