The Tycoon's Reluctant Cinderella. Therese Beharrie

He had been working with Connor until just past midnight, trying to draft an investment contract that he was happy with. A contract that would require all his negotiation skills to convince an investor to accept—although he knew it was possible. He had put out feelers even before he had spoken to Connor, when he had initially thought of finding an investor, and the response had been positive. But he still wasn’t convinced that this was something he wanted or if it was something he was being persuaded into by a pretty face.

      He threw off his bedcovers and walked downstairs to the kitchen of his Cape Town house. He had bought the place without much thought other than that he would need somewhere to stay when he visited his father, who had retired here. Now he was incredibly grateful he had, since he didn’t know how long he would be in town.

      The house was a few kilometres from the hotel, and had an amazing view. He could even see the lights of the city illuminating Table Mountain at night through the glass doors that led out onto a deck on the second floor. But he wasn’t thinking about that as he poured himself a glass of water and drank as though he had come out of a desert.

      Since the house was temperature-controlled, he knew he wasn’t feeling the heat of the January weather. No, he thought. It was because he was considering something that would complicate his life when all he’d wanted was a simple solution.

      Blake had been raised in the family business. His father had opened the first Elegance Hotel four decades ago, and had invested heavily in guest relations. He had made sure that every employee knew that the Elegance Hotel’s guests came first, and seen that vision manifested into action. Eventually, after two decades, his investment had paid off and he had been able to expand into other hotels.

      Blake had been groomed to take over since he was old enough to understand that his father was not only building a business, but a legacy. And he hadn’t been given control of the hotel until his father had been sure that he could do it.

      That was why he wanted to lay off staff instead of considering an outside investor. He would be able to solve the problem that had arisen while he’d been trying to fix his relationship with Julia easily, and make the reminder of his failure disappear. It would mean that his feelings of losing control and being helpless would be gone.

      A memory of himself standing at the front door, watching his mother leave, flashed through his mind, but he shook it away, not knowing where it had come from, and forced his thoughts back to the matter at hand. Laying off staff might have been the simple option, but it was also a selfish one. Especially when he thought of the hope he had seen written on Callie and Connor’s faces.

      He sighed as he made his decision. He would do this—but not for Callie. The slight heat that flushed through him every time he thought about her, the intensity of it every time he saw her, was a sure sign that he should stay away from her. He wouldn’t make this big a decision based on his attraction to her or her need for him to do so. He wouldn’t make that mistake again.

      * * *

      ‘Mr Owen, do you have a moment?’

      Callie stood awkwardly at the door, wishing with all her might that she didn’t feel quite so small in his presence. But she straightened when he looked up and gestured for her to come in.

      She knew Connor had to attend one of the conferences at the hotel today, and she was using the opportunity to speak to her boss without her brother’s disapproving look. And without the disapproving lecture she would no doubt receive—like the one she’d received just after midnight—which, she had been told, was when Connor and Blake had finally finished their meeting.

      She knew she’d been out of line when she had spoken up, and she hadn’t needed Connor to tell her that. So once again she was preparing to apologise to Blake.

      She walked in and swallowed when he looked up, the striking features of his face knitted into a stern expression.

      ‘What can I do for you, Miss McKenzie?’

      ‘It’s Callie, please.’

      He nodded. ‘Okay, then. What can I do for you, Callie?’

      Her stomach jilted just a little at the way he said her name. She cleared her throat. ‘I wanted to say sorry.’

      He almost smiled. ‘It’s becoming a habit, then.’

      She let out a laugh. ‘Seems like it. I’ve made quite the mess since meeting you.’ She stepped forward, resisted pulling at her clothes. ‘But I am sorry. The first time I apologised it was because I’d made a mistake. This time it’s because I shouldn’t have barged in here and spoken out of turn.’

      ‘I’m not upset with you because you spoke out of turn.’

      Blake stood, walked around the desk and leaned against it. He was wearing a blue shirt, and the top button was loosened. She swallowed, and wondered if the temperature in the room had increased.

      ‘I’m not your school principal.’

      ‘Aren’t you, though? In some ways?’

      This time he did smile, and it did something strange to her heart.

      ‘I won’t take the bait on that one.’

      He paused, and then crossed his arms. She could see the muscle ripple under his shirt, and the heat went up another notch.

      ‘You say you’re sorry for barging in here. But not that you eavesdropped?’

      ‘No, I’m not sorry about that. If I hadn’t you wouldn’t have considered investors. Which you have been doing, right?’ she asked, and knew that subtlety was not her forte.

      ‘I have. I made a few calls this morning, and I have a few people interested.’

      He walked towards her, and though the distance between them wasn’t small her heart thudded.

      ‘So the answer to your real question is yes, I am going to do this.’

      ‘You are?’ Relief washed over her. ‘Oh, wow!’ She pressed a hand to her stomach. ‘That’s amazing.’

      ‘But I need your help.’

      Relief turned into confusion. ‘What do you mean?’

      ‘Like I said yesterday, we need a very specific kind of investor. An international one who will be willing to invest in the hotel, but also in this city. Especially if I want him to agree to my strict terms regarding the expansion of Elegance Hotels.’

      His hands were in his pockets now, and he moved until he was just close enough that she could smell his cologne. It reminded her of when they were in the elevator together—a time when she hadn’t had to think of him as her boss.

      She shook off the feelings the memory evoked, but when she spoke, her voice was a little husky. ‘And how can I help with that?’

      ‘You can help me sell the city. You are the “Specialised Concierge”, right?’

      He smiled slyly, and she realised he knew about her made-up title.

      ‘Or, in more common terms, a tour guide,’ she said.

      ‘Exactly. So I’ll need you to help me sell Cape Town to potential investors. Your knowledge of the city will be an asset to any proposal I make. I’ll take care of the business side of it, of course, and once that’s done we can take them on the tour you will custom-design to fit my proposal.’

      ‘How do you know I can do it?’ She felt her heart beat in a rhythm that couldn’t possibly be healthy.

      ‘Because your job depends on it.’

      He smiled now, and she couldn’t read the emotion that lined it.

      ‘Callie, are you prepared to work with the boss?’

      She stared helplessly at him, and despite everything inside her that nudged her to say otherwise she answered, ‘Yes, I am.’