New Arrivals: One Secret Child. Линда Гуднайт

at the same time the shadow of beard covering his hard jaw lightly abraded her. But it was the utter desolation she heard in his gruffly velvet voice that disturbed Anna.

      ‘You mustn’t give up,’ she urged, sliding her hands either side of his sculpted high cheekbones to make him look up at her.

      Although he was surprised by her words, he couldn’t disguise his anguish. ‘Don’t waste your reassurances on me, Anna. I’m okay. I’ll survive… I always do.’

      ‘You don’t think life can be better than just surviving? ‘

      ‘For you, angel, I hope it can be. You deserve it—you really do.’

      ‘Sad things, bad things have happened to me too,’ she offered shyly. ‘Apart from childhood stuff. After a couple of years of doing jobs I hated I found one I really liked and excelled at. But I lost that post when some ruthless hotel magnate bought out my previous employers and installed his own staff. I didn’t let myself be sad about it for long, though. I had no choice but to pick myself up and face the unknown. Luckily fate brought me here, to the Mirabelle. Sometimes help arrives when you most need it, you know?’

      ‘Perhaps it does if your conduct has warranted it.’

      ‘I wish you could tell me what’s happened to make you feel so low. I thought—I thought perhaps because you were wearing black you might have just lost someone?’

      Breathing silently for a while Dante didn’t speak. Then he sighed. ‘I already told you I’m not the unburdening kind. But I don’t feel low right now, cara… How could I, lying here in your arms, hearing your heart beat beneath my cheek, having just enjoyed the pleasures and consolation of your beautiful body?’

      Hot colour poured into Anna’s cheeks. ‘If I’ve brought you some comfort then I’m happy. But I think it’s time I went. I really should get back to my room and get some sleep…I’ve got to make an early start in the morning.’

      ‘So working in the bar isn’t your only job?’

      ‘No. I do a bit of everything. I’m learning the trade, so it’s great. It’s a small family-run hotel and we all muck in. In the mornings I’m a chambermaid.’ She dimpled shyly.

      ‘Stay.’ Winding his fingers possessively round a spiralling length of her vivid burnished hair, Dante raised it tenderly to his lips. ‘I want you to stay until morning. Would you do that for me, Anna? I can’t promise you more than this one night, but I promise that I’ll hold you close until the dawn comes up… If that’s enough…if you’re willing to accept just that…will you stay? ‘

       Five years later

      Anna flew into the large hotel kitchen, hurriedly unbuttoning her raincoat as she scanned the busy room for Luigi, the head chef. Defying the stereotype that proclaimed all good chefs should be on the large side, he was tall and thin, with a pointy chin and an abundance of curly black hair with threads of silver tied back in a ponytail. She found him straight away, the back of his chef’s whites towards her as he weighed ingredients at one of the scrubbed steel counters, whistling an aria from a well-known opera.

      ‘Did the produce arrive?’ she asked breathlessly. ‘I spoke to the manager at the deli and he told me it had already left in the van. Is it here? ‘

      Turning round to acknowledge her, the first thing Luigi did was to look her up and down, then wag his finger. ‘Have you eaten breakfast this morning? My guess is that you haven’t, and yet you run around at a hundred miles an hour as if you can exist on fresh air alone!’

      ‘As it happens I had a croissant at the deli while I was waiting to talk to the manager.’

      Crossing her arms over her damp rain-spattered coat, Anna challenged him to disbelieve her. It was sweet that he took such an interest in her welfare and what she ate, but she was no longer the naive twenty-four-year-old she’d been when she first came to the hotel. She was thirty-two, in charge of her own destiny, and the assistant manager to boot!

      ‘A croissant, eh? And how do you expect to survive on such a poor substitute for food as that until lunch-time? A croissant is nothing but air too!’

      ‘It wasn’t just air. It had apricot and custard in it, and it was extremely filling and very nice.’ Sighing patiently, Anna let her rose-tinted lips naturally form a smile. ‘Now, will you please answer my question about the produce delivery? Anita’s expecting an important delegation for lunch today, and everything has to be just perfect.’

      Luigi threw up his hands dramatically. ‘And you believe it won’t be? You should know by now that Luigi delivers nothing but perfection! ‘

      ‘You’re right. I do know that.’

      ‘And, yes, the delivery has arrived—and the black olives are excellent as usual.’

      ‘What a relief. So everything is fine, then? I mean, there aren’t any problems? ‘

      With her gaze swinging round towards Cheryl, who was the sous chef, and the three young kitchen assistants scurrying busily about the kitchen, Anna included them all in her question. She hadn’t been made assistant manager without developing an ability to notice everything—from the mundane to the much more important—and she was very keen for all to be well.

      Anita and Grant, the hotel’s owners, had always prided themselves on running a tight ship, but an extremely friendly one too. They cared about their staff. That was why Anna had stayed on. And when she’d fallen pregnant they hadn’t said she had to leave. Instead, the couple had been unstinting in their support of her, seeing her potential and insisting she occupy the charming two-bedroom apartment in the basement of the hotel as part of her remuneration for working there. They had also helped her find a reliable and decent local nursery for her baby, and encouraged her to take an online management course with a view to promoting her and helping her to earn a better salary. Consequently, Anna was fiercely loyal as well as immensely grateful to the couple.

      ‘Everything’s fine in the kitchen, Anna.’ Cheryl nodded, but then the slim, pretty blonde bit down anxiously on her lip and continued, ‘Except we couldn’t help wondering why Anita and Grant had a delegation from one of the most well-known hotel chains in the country coming here for lunch. Can you tell us anything about it?’

      Anna’s insides cartwheeled at the question. This afternoon the couple who owned the hotel had scheduled a meeting with her to discuss something important, and all last night and early this morning, as she’d got her daughter Tia ready for kindergarten, she’d been fretting about what the subject might be. The charming little hotel in its smart Georgian building was situated in a very desirable corner of Covent Garden, but Anna wasn’t oblivious to the fact that the country was plunged deep into a recession and reservations and consequently takings were definitely down.

      Were they going to be bought out by a more commercial hotel giant, and as a consequence would she lose a job she loved again? And not just her job this time, but her home too? It hardly bore thinking about.

      But now, seeing the obvious anxiety on not just Cheryl’s but on the other staff members’ faces too, she knew she had a duty to reassure them.

      ‘To be absolutely honest with you I know nothing about it. My advice to you all would be to just concentrate on your work and not waste time on speculation. It won’t help. If there’s anything concerning us that we need to know, you can be sure we’ll all get to hear about it soon. Now, I must get on. I’ve got to relieve Jason on Reception. He’s standing in for Amy, who’s phoned in sick.’

      Time dragged interminably slowly as the hotel chain’s delegation of three enjoyed the superb three-course lunch Luigi and his staff had prepared. Afterwards the two men and their female colleague were closeted in a meeting with Anita, Grant and their son Jason, the manager, for two and a half hours. Anna had never been a clock-watcher, but that afternoon she was.

      It was a quarter to five by the time the phone rang on Reception to invite her into Jason’s office for the promised meeting