The Holiday From Hell (4 page)

Luce woke to loud banging on his front door. He heaved himself out of bed and glanced down in wonder as he realised he'd slept in not just his underwear, but his pants. That had to be a first. He clearly recalled carrying Mel to bed, then stretching out beside her for just a moment to finish healing her, but his memories were pretty vague after that.

His pants were just as tight as last night – maybe more so, he decided, adjusting himself. Was it worth waking Mel to ask her if she wanted to make use of his morning glory?

The banging sounded again, louder and more impatient than before.

He stumbled into the dining room and surveyed the dirty plates still on the table. He must've fallen asleep alongside Mel. A tinkling sound down near his foot caught his attention and Luce reached down to pick up the fork Mel had dropped.

The assault on his front door shook it in its frame. Was there a demon on the other side? Luce wondered. If there was, he'd tell them to go straight to Hell. He wasn't coming in to work today. He threw the door open to find himself facing an angry woman in chef's whites.

"The waitstaff have been up here twice and both times they've come back empty-handed. Neither of them wanted to knock on the door after what happened last time. We only do room service to the apartments if you return the dishes and there's only the one trolley. The head chef said you wanted breakfast room service, but we haven't received your order and I'm not cooking it until you return all the restaurant property, anyway." She plucked the fork from Luce's fingers. "Where's the rest of it?"

Luce left the door open and led the way to the dining room.

The woman stuck her hands on her hips and surveyed the mess. "So you had a woman over, seduced her with wine and good food, then talked her into your bed –" She lifted the lid on one of the covered dessert plates. The multicoloured, creamy creation had now congealed into an unappetising, pinkish brown puddle. "– and forgot about dessert. That must have been one hot night."

Luce summoned a grin. He couldn't lie, but he knew the right sexy smile could tell a tale all on its own.

"What was dessert?" Mel's voice startled him. She stood in the doorway, wearing one of those Japanese dressing-gown dresses over her nightgown. The golden bamboo patterned across the white fabric was the precise shade of her hair. "I'm sorry, Luce. Between the flight from Japan and not feeling well, I fell asleep and missed the best part of the evening." Her smile set Luce's heart aglow. "Thank you for taking such good care of me."

The chef snorted. "This one doesn't do anything for a woman without an ulterior motive. Do not trust a word he says – he'll seduce you into his bed and throw you out in the morning, if he remembers you're there. Ask him to tell you about the last time he didn't return his room service trolley. That wasn't the only thing he forgot. He left some poor girl handcuffed hand and foot to his bed. When I found her, the poor thing was naked and in tears, bleeding from trying to get out of the restraints. I don't know what would have happened to her if I hadn't come along. I had to get some pliers and a set of boltcutters from the caretaker to free her because he'd forgotten to leave her the keys to her metal handcuffs, too." She glared at Luce. "The only reason I didn't call the police is because she begged me not to."

Luce snorted. "So that's how she got free. She hid the keys, not me. One set up each hole. I wasn't sticking my fingers up her to get them out. Serves her right. She put them on."

"Don't trust him," the woman insisted. "He'll be just as callous when he's done with you. Get out while you still have your self-respect."

"That must have been the night you came to my place, running through the rain as if all the hounds of Hell were after you. I bet she didn't want the police involved. Persi can be frighteningly persistent when she develops an obsession for someone, like she did for you." Mel tucked herself into Luce's side and kissed his cheek. She turned her eyes on the chef. "Thank you for rescuing my cousin from her predicament, and for saving Luce from having to deal with her when he got home. I heard you mention breakfast?"

"I mentioned it, but according to restaurant policy, he'll be cooking it for you, not me," the woman said, piling the dirty plates onto the trolley.

Luce watched in fascination as Mel stepped forward and rested her hand on the woman's wrist. The chef's mesmerised eyes met Mel's and didn't look away. "Perhaps you didn't hear me. The woman you found chained herself to a bed in her relentless pursuit of her boss and my partner. He deserted his own home to get away from her. I don't believe he'd have ordered dinner for the two of them – just himself – so if the meal was for two last time, she ordered it. Any inconvenience my cousin caused you is between your employer and Persephone, not Luce. This morning's misunderstanding is my fault. My flight arrived late yesterday and Luce ordered food to save me from cooking, given how weary I was." She laughed gently. "I'm sure your employer wouldn't want to alienate one of his best customers because that customer chose to place the health of his partner over some dirty dishes and the enjoyment of what I believe looks like some delicious dessert?" Mel sighed. "I wish I'd been well enough to eat it last night."

Luce wanted to applaud, but he didn't dare.

"We'll see," the woman responded grudgingly. She pulled her hand out from under Mel's and finished clearing the table.

"What would you like for breakfast?" Luce asked Mel, ignoring the other woman.

Mel smiled. "Actually, I don't think I'm ready to eat anything yet. I was just thirsty. I only got up to get a glass of water."

"Let me," he said, grabbing the jug of filtered water from the fridge. He presented a filled glass to her.

Mel's smile didn't fade as she sipped her way through Luce's offering, before setting the empty glass on the sink. "Thank you. I'm still a bit tired, so if you don't mind, I'd like to go back to bed for some more sleep."

"Of course." Luce's heart flipped as her light kiss tingled against his lips. He watched her careful steps back to their shared bedroom.

The door clicked closed behind the departing chef and Luce seriously considered following Mel back to bed. No, he decided. He had a holiday to plan.

He powered up his laptop and switched on the coffee machine. How did you plan a holiday from HELL with a perfect angel like Mel?

Like the honeymoon from Heaven. He grinned and started his search, slurping his espresso in bliss.

Ninety frustrating minutes later, Luce had managed to book exactly nothing. Not flights, accommodation…he couldn't even decide on a destination. Would Mel want beaches or snow or wilderness or city or…what?

He picked up the phone and prayed it was a good idea. He needed help, after all.

"Hello, Helpful Angels Agency," a professional, feminine voice bubbled. "How may I help you?"

Luce thanked Heaven and anyone else who'd answered his prayer. "I'm hoping you can help. I intend to take my angel on a relaxing holiday and I'm looking for recommendations."

The girl cleared her throat. "Ah, I believe you might have the wrong impression. You see, this is an employment agency and not a travel agency. We provide expert staff to meet our clients' needs and…"

"And the expert assistance I need is advice on where to take an angel on holiday. From the HELL Corporation. One of your expert staff." Luce stressed the last two words, just in case she didn't get the message.

"Is this a joke? Or a threat?" The bubbles popped, baring steel. Luce recognised her voice now. "I hope you realise that threatening our staff contravenes several laws and violates your contract of service with us. What is your name…or the name of the staff member?"

Luce gritted his teeth. "My name is Luce Iblis and you sound like Gabrielle…D'Angelo, isn't it?"

"It sure is, and I'll be telling Raphael and every other angel I see today that you're threatening Mel. They'll carve you into little demon cubes and skewer you for your subordinates to barbeque in Hell before you can blink. Don't you even think of taking Mel anywhere."

He burst out laughing. "Your boss already knows – Mel told him herself last night. And he knows what the consequences will be if he tries to stop me again."

"Go to Hell," Gabrielle snapped and slammed the phone down.

Bloody unhelpful angel.

Luce noticed a text message from an unknown number, so he opened it.

Your cock is smaller than shrimp and your stamina is sucking.

Wrong number. Definitely. Luce deleted it.

Sighing, Luce grimaced and did what he always did when he needed a problem sorted.

"Good morning, Mr Iblis," Mephi answered on the second ring. Feminine and professional, but with bite from the beginning. At least she was honest.

"Hi, Mephi. As I mentioned yesterday, I won't be in for the better part of the next month as I take some overdue leave. Melody Angel, too. But I need your help."

"What with, Mr Iblis?"

"I don't know where to take her on holiday. I promised we'd go away somewhere but I don't know what she'd like and I can't ask her." Well, he could, but that would spoil the surprise and making her help him plan the whole thing was hardly him arranging a relaxing holiday for her.

"Mr Iblis, what does Miss Angel like?"

Luce racked his brain. "Macchiato. Fresh-brewed tea. Chocolate. Wine. Good food. Swans. Wild birds. Dolphins. Weather like we have here. Warm water she can swim in. Whiskey. Fishing. No, wait – not fishing. That wasn't her idea and he regretted it. Scented flowers. Caves, I think. Not too many people around. Fresh milk. Long walks through trees with wildlife. God, I don't know!"

"She told me once that she liked the hot springs in Japan. Perhaps –"

"NO!" Luce exploded. "She just got back from there and the angel she was staying with had the hots for her. I'm not sharing her with anyone!"

Mephi cleared her throat. "In that case, perhaps a place with a spa. Most of the things you referred to are found here, in the south-west of this state. Perhaps you should be looking for secluded retreats here in the south-west? I've heard there's a new whisky distillery opening in Margaret River and they have some rather luxurious honeymoon-style accommodation in that area. The only other places with a similar climate would be California and Tuscany. I'd have to check if those have the sort of wilderness you want…"

"Margaret River? Where in Hell's that?"

"Three to four hours' drive south of your present location and close to the coast. If you leave now, you could be there in time for a late lunch, Mr Iblis."

And spend tonight in a honeymoon retreat with his precious angel? Heaven.

"Thanks, Mephi."

Silence, then a hesitant, "You're welcome, Mr Iblis. Please take good care of Miss Angel. Yesterday, she looked…tired." Mel had even managed to melt her way into his PA's stone heart – no small feat, he knew.

"I will." Luce ended the call and tossed his phone on the table.

It beeped as he received another text message.

If woman come on your cock it is fake.

Luce snorted. Whoever these messages were meant for, they were definitely a complete loser in bed. He almost felt sorry for the bugger.

He started searching for accommodation in Margaret River with a spa. Just the thought of sharing the hot, bubbling water with Mel gave his fingers wings as they flew across the laptop keyboard.