Heiress on the Run (Harlequin Romance) Page 2

  But, to his surprise, the first words she said were, ‘Sounds like you have a problem, my friend. And I think I can help you out.’

  * * *

  It wasn’t the way she normally got work, but there was a lot to be said for serendipity, Faith decided. Walking into an airport bar, jobless and broke, and hearing a guy talk about how he needed a London tour guide and hotel rooms? That was an opportunity that was meant to be.

  ‘And how, exactly, do you intend to do that?’ the guy asked. He didn’t look quite as convinced by coincidence as she was.

  Faith held out a hand. ‘I’m Faith. I’m a tour guide. I know London even better than I know Italy and Rome, and I’ve been running tours here for a year and a half. And it just so happens that I’ve finished one tour today, and I have a break before my next one.’ She didn’t mention the slight hiccup in her heartbeat at the idea of going home to London. Probably it would be fine. She could be in and out in a week or so, heading off on a plane to sunnier, less panic-inducing climes.

  Besides, at this point, it wasn’t as if she had a lot of other options.

  ‘Dominic,’ the guy said, taking her hand. He looked familiar, she realised. But then, after a while, all men in grey suits looked the same, didn’t they? Maybe not quite as attractive as this one, though. His gaze was cool and evaluating. The high-end suit said ‘successful businessman’, the loosened tie said ‘workaholic’ and the beer said ‘long day’. She could work with all of those. ‘And how, exactly, do you know I need a tour guide?’

  ‘I eavesdropped.’ Faith shrugged, then realised the move strained her struggling blouse a little more than was wise in a professional environment. Maybe she should have left the necktie on.

  ‘Not exactly the key quality I look for in an employee.’ He frowned down at her cleavage with more distaste than she was used to seeing in a man.

  ‘Really?’ Faith asked. ‘Someone who listens even when they’re not required to and anticipates your needs? I’ve always found that rather useful.’

  It was funny, Faith thought, the way you could watch someone re-evaluate you, and see the change in their attitude as a result. When she’d first sat down, she’d known all he saw was boobs and hair. Then she’d offered to help him, and his expression had changed from dismissive to interested. And now...now he was really intrigued.

  ‘Okay, so, we’ve established I need a tour guide. I also need seven luxury hotel rooms in a central London five-star hotel.’

  Thank goodness for airport Wi-Fi.

  Logging into her browser from her smartphone, Faith scrolled through to the late booking accommodation site Marco always used, and set her search parameters. ‘For tomorrow?’

  Dominic nodded. ‘Staying six nights.’

  There weren’t a lot of options, so Faith just presented him with the best one. ‘How about the Greyfriars?’ She turned the screen for him to see the eye-watering price, next to the photo of a hotel suite larger than the flat she’d shared with Antonio in Rome.

  A slight widening of the eyes, a tight smile, and Faith knew he was re-evaluating her again. Good. She could be useful to him, and he could be even more useful to her. Time he realised that.

  ‘The Greyfriars should work.’

  Faith tapped a few more buttons on her tiny screen. ‘I’ve reserved the rooms. Do you want to trust me with your credit card information, or call and speak with them directly?’

  He raised his eyebrows, even as he pulled his wallet from his jacket pocket. For a moment, Faith thought he might actually hand it over, but then he picked up his phone, too. ‘Give me the number.’

  Grabbing her well used red notebook from her bag, Faith scribbled down both the phone number of the hotel and the reservation reference, and pushed the page across to him.

  While he spoke with the receptionist, Faith ordered herself a glass of wine, hoping that Dominic would be impressed enough by her efficiency that she wouldn’t have to rely on her last twenty euros for much longer.

  So. She’d got the man his hotel rooms; surely he had to offer her the tour guide job now, right? Which meant his next question would be ‘What do you want?’ She needed to formulate an answer—one that didn’t let on exactly how much more she needed his help than he needed hers.

  What did she want? For Antonio never to have found out who she really was. For Marco not to have done a bunk. For her parents to be normal middle-class people. Teachers, perhaps. People who fitted in, which her parents certainly did not. She wanted to not have to worry that every camera or phone she saw might be about to send her picture soaring around the realms of social media, ready to be identified as Lady Faith, the Missing Heiress.

  She wanted to have never been caught on camera leaving that hotel room, three years ago. That was a big one.

  But right now, she’d settle for a ride back to London, a hotel room for the week, meals and drinks included, and maybe a small salary at the end of the job. Enough to tide her over until she found her next gig. It wouldn’t take long; she was good at her job, she enjoyed it, and people liked her. That was important in the events and tourism industry.

  ‘Thank you for your assistance,’ Dominic said, and put down his phone. Faith looked up with a bright smile. Okay, she didn’t really know who this guy was, or what business he was in, but he could afford seven rooms at the Greyfriars, so he could get her out of Rome without having to call her family, which was the most important thing.

  ‘Let me tell you a little bit more about what I need,’ he said, and Faith nodded, her best attentive face on. ‘My name is Lord Dominic Beresford, and I run a number of businesses from my family’s estates.’ Faith’s stomach clenched at the name. Of course he looked familiar. She’d probably seen him on the society pages a dozen times when she lived in London, usually next to photos of her mother looking tipsy behind her fake smile, or her father charming another man’s wife. Or even of Faith herself, leaving the current London hotspot on the arm of someone very unsuitable. Lord Beresford, on the other hand, was always immaculately dressed and frowning.

  ‘I have six American businessmen and -women arriving in London tomorrow morning,’ Dominic went on, oblivious to the way her stomach was rolling. ‘I need you to meet and greet them, plan entertainment for the hours they’re not going to be in meetings, and accompany them on tours, the theatre, whatever you come up with.’ He gave her a sharp look. ‘Can you do it?’

  Spend a week in the company of a man who could at any moment realise exactly who she was and expose her, all while avoiding anyone she knew in London, and working at the same time?

  ‘Of course I can.’

  Dominic nodded. ‘Then we’ll talk salary on the plane. Finish your drink; we’ll go get you a ticket. But first...’ He picked up his phone again, tapped a speed-dial number, and waited.

  Was that crying Faith could hear in the background?

  ‘Shelley?’ Dominic said, almost shouting to be heard. ‘Don’t worry. I’ve fixed it.’

  CHAPTER TWO

  HE’D ASKED THE wrong question, Dominic realised, later that evening. He shouldn’t have asked Faith if she could do the job. He should have asked her if she knew how to be quiet.

  The answer was now startlingly obvious: no.

  She’d chattered through the ticket line. All through security. Yammered on in the first-class lounge. And kept talking all the way to the gate and onto the plane.

  And now they were cruising at thirty-two thousand feet, the cabin lights were dimmed, and she was still asking questions.

  ‘Have you taken clients on the London Eye before? What about up the Shard? I haven’t done that yet, but I’ve read reports...’

  Grabbing another file from his briefcase, in the vain hope that the growing stack of them on the table in front of him might suddenly make her realise he was trying to work here, Dominic tried to tune out
the chatter from the seat beside him. It wasn’t as if she took a breath long enough for him to answer anyway.

  Why did she have to sit next to him? First class was practically empty. There were plenty of places for her to stretch out, watch a movie, sleep. Not talk.

  ‘Do you know if they’re theatre buffs? I can do some research on what’s the hottest show in town when we land. Or maybe the opera?’

  Of course, there were plenty of other questions he should have asked, too. Like why she was so eager to come work for a total stranger for over a week. Did she need to get out of Rome? Or was she just homesick? Jobless? He should have asked for credentials, for references, for anything that proved who she was. He hadn’t even managed a glimpse of her passport as she handed it over to the ticket clerk.

  It wasn’t like him to be so impulsive. Yes, he’d been in a corner and needed a quick fix. And okay, he’d wanted to prove to Shelley and Kevin that he could manage quite well without them, thank you. He was still the boss, after all.

  But if he was honest with himself, he knew the real reason he’d hired Faith was because of her attitude. It took guts to walk up to a stranger in an airport and tell them to give you a job. Guts and desperation, probably. But if she had a reason for needing this job, she hadn’t let on. She’d focused entirely on what she could do for him, and it had worked.

  Coupled with her curvaceous, striking appearance, that courage and determination meant she’d probably go far, in whatever she decided to do—if her blunt, frank manner didn’t get her into trouble first. She was the exact opposite of anything he’d look for in a woman normally, but Faith wasn’t a woman. Not to him, anyway. She was an employee, and that was a completely different thing.

  Of course, she wasn’t exactly like his other employees, either. Shelley, outspoken as she could be now, hadn’t started that way. For the first year she hadn’t questioned anything, hadn’t complained, hadn’t offered an opinion. And she’d still never be seen dead in a skirt as tight as Faith’s. No, Shelley was beige suits and pastel blouses, where Faith was red lipstick and high heels.

  Dominic didn’t even waste time on a mental comparison between Faith and Kevin.

  ‘And, uh, actually...I should have asked...’

  Good grief, was there a question she hadn’t blurted out already?

  With a sigh, Dominic looked up at her, only to find her plump lower lip caught between white teeth, and an uncertainty in her eyes for the first time since they met.

  ‘Yes?’ he asked, surprised by her sudden change in demeanour.

  ‘Will you want me to stay at the hotel with your guests?’

  He blinked. ‘Well, yes. That would be easiest.’ He’d need to get an extra room, he realised. Efficient as she seemed to be, he could hardly leave his most important clients with a stranger for the next week. No, he’d need to stay there too, that much was obvious. But if Faith was staying in the hotel, at least he could delegate their more mundane requirements to her. ‘Unless you have a pressing need to stay somewhere else?’

  ‘No, no, it’s not that.’ She gave him a smile, an understated, nothing to worry about here smile. One he didn’t entirely trust. His mother had smiled like that, in the weeks before she left. ‘It’s just that I’ve been living in Rome for the last year and a half. I don’t actually have anywhere to stay in London.’

  It was only when the muscles in his shoulders relaxed that Dominic realised they’d tensed at all. Of course she didn’t have anywhere to stay. That made perfect sense.

  It didn’t entirely explain why she’d been so eager to leave Rome on a moment’s notice, with only a pull-along suitcase for company, but Dominic was sure he could persuade her to tell him that story, in time. He was a very persuasive man when he put his mind to it. And he really wanted to know what Faith was running away from. Just in case it was something he needed to defend his reputation against.

  ‘You’ll have a room at the hotel,’ he promised, before realising something else. ‘But we’ll need to see if we can get one for tonight, too.’

  Faith glanced down at her watch, and he knew what she was thinking. By the time they got into London it would be the early hours. Anyone checking in last minute to a hotel at that kind of time wasn’t usually there on business. Not the legitimate sort, anyway.

  ‘Maybe it would be best if I checked into one of the airport hotels?’ she suggested. ‘That way, I’ll be on hand ready to meet your clients there in the morning.’

  It made perfect sense. And suddenly Dominic couldn’t face the drive into London, all the way to his penthouse apartment, just in time to wake up and pack ready to move into a hotel for the week. ‘Good plan,’ he said. ‘As soon as we land you can book us both in.’

  She flashed him a smile, this one more confident, more teasing. ‘Does that mean you’re trusting me with your credit card at last?’

  He’d have to, he realised. She’d need a method of payment for all the things he’d asked her to do, to set up. Even if it was just having some petty cash to make sure she could buy the Americans a coffee if they needed it.

  ‘I’ll call the bank in the morning, get you set up with a card linked to my expenses account.’ The bank knew him well, and he certainly gave them enough business to request a favour. They could monitor the activity on that card. ‘In the meantime, I’ll provide you with some petty cash. A thousand should do it.’

  ‘Right.’ Her eyes were wide, he realised. She hadn’t expected him to actually hand over his money. She had to realise, from the way he’d casually paid for her incredibly expensive last-minute seat in first class, that money wasn’t much of an object to him these days. But it obviously was to her.

  As was trust. Interesting.

  Dominic had a feeling he had a lot still to learn about his latest employee.

  But that could wait until London. ‘And now, if you don’t mind, I’ve got some work I’d like to finish before we land.’

  She nodded, silent, and he turned back to his file, enjoying the peace and quiet. Who knew that all he had to do to stop Faith talking was offer her money and trust? If he’d have guessed, he would have tried it hours ago.

  * * *

  She couldn’t just sit there. Apart from anything else, it was boring. What was in those files that Dominic found so fascinating?

  Faith wasn’t a sitting still and waiting kind of girl. She got fidgety.

  Besides, the longer she sat there, staring out of the aeroplane window at the night skies, the more she imagined, in detail, every possible way this whole plan could go wrong. It wasn’t a pretty list.

  He wanted to get her a credit card. Which meant he’d need her full name. She’d managed to avoid him seeing her passport information, just, but he’d have to have it for the bank. What did she do? If she gave him a fake name, the bank might not authorise the card and she’d have to explain everything anyway. No, the only option was to give him her real name, minus the assorted titles, and hope he didn’t recognise it.

  At least Dominic didn’t seem like the sort to spend his mornings reading the society pages, however often he appeared in them.

  She needed to know more about him, Faith decided. If she knew who he was, what mattered to him, she might be able to predict his response if he figured out who she was. Would he drag her back to her parents by her hair, as her great-uncle had threatened? Or would he out her to the media, like Antonio had said he would? Or would he let her slip back out of the country, quiet and safe, to carry on living her own life?

  If only she could be sure.

  Faith sighed and, beside her, Dominic made a small irritated sound. One thing was clear: she wasn’t going to find out all about her new employer by asking him questions when he was trying to work. No, she’d have to do this the modern way—Internet stalking. Surely the airport hotel would have free Wi-Fi?

  ‘Do
you have to think so loudly?’ Dominic asked, reordering his papers again so half of them crept over the edge of the table, almost onto her lap.

  ‘I’m pretty sure thinking is, by definition, a fairly quiet activity,’ Faith said, shoving the papers back up onto the table.

  ‘Not the way you do it.’

  Right. Well, if she couldn’t talk or think, maybe it was time to go and find something more interesting to do. Somewhere Dominic wasn’t.

  ‘Okay, let me out.’ She nudged her elbow against his side, and he looked up in surprise.

  ‘Where are you going?’ he asked.

  ‘Somewhere I can think without disturbing your hypersensitive hearing.’ Yes, he was difficult and crazy, but he was at least paying for her to get back home. Best not to totally annoy him this early in the game.

  Shuffling his papers back into a neat stack, Dominic slid out of his seat, into the wide, wide aisle. God, she’d missed first class.

  ‘Don’t get into any trouble,’ he said, looking disturbingly like Great-Uncle Nigel.

  Faith gave him her most winning, most innocent smile. ‘Me? I never get into trouble.’

  And then, leaving him looking utterly unconvinced, she sashayed through towards business class to find some more interesting people to annoy with her questions and her thinking.

  * * *

  He was being ridiculous. How could it be harder to concentrate without Faith beside him, fidgeting, talking and thinking, than it was when she was there?

  But somehow, it was.

  Pushing his files across the table, since he clearly wasn’t going to be able to concentrate on them tonight, Dominic leant back in his seat and considered. Where would she have gone? They were on a plane, for heaven’s sake. It wasn’t as if she could have run away. If they’d been sitting in any other area of the aircraft, he’d have suspected her of running off to first class to try and win over the affections of a wealthy businessman.

  He glanced around the small section of seats on his side of the curtain. No sign of her. The only other occupants—an elderly gentleman in a suit and a woman with a pashmina wrapped around her, almost covering her face—were both asleep.