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Firmly and purposefully, he led her towards the doors through which she had emerged and back into the bowels of the hotel. His hand rested lightly on her elbow, guiding her along the corridor until they reached what appeared to be the staff quarters. Buffy backed up against the row of lockers nearest to the door, her eyes wide and her mind racing for a possible explanation. Somehow, she didn’t think her ‘errand’ story would wash with this guy.
His eyes raked over the petite blonde stood before him looking like a lost little school girl. He blinked hard in an attempt to shift those mental images from his mind and refocus upon the task at hand.
“Care to venture an explanation, love?”
Buffy looked up at him, her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth from sheer fear. How the hell was she going to explain this? She couldn’t well drop Faith in it but then he might think she was a criminal or something and report her to the police. Oh god, what if he called the police? Then Angel would find out –
“Ok, shall we start with something simple? How’s about a name? Pretty petal like you surely has a name.” He curled his tongue behind his teeth, the faint ghost of a smirk curving his lips. Hell, he should be more stern with her but she was just so delicious. So fresh, so ripe, so beautiful. She was worth ten of those women in the restaurant. His mind was yelling at him to get over it but his body was tingling with her mere presence.
Buffy opened her mouth and then clamped it shut. What if he realised who she was? Fine, Angel had never allowed her near his work citing the flimsy reason of keeping his private life separate from his business but surely he must talk about her to his friends… Or did he? Because she sure as hell didn’t have a clue who this man was. This beautiful, gorgeous man. She blinked back at him. “Elizabeth.”
“Elizabeth.” He rolled the name around his mouth, low and slow. He made it sound like a dirty word. He pinned her eyes with his and she was powerless to look away.
“Look, I know this looks bad and really, I’m sure there are a thousand excuses I could give you right now but the truth is…” She stumbled. What the hell was the truth? Go big, go drama. Channel your inner Faith.
Just then, the door swung open. Speak of the devil. Buffy didn’t think she had ever been so glad to see someone in her life.
“Lehane, don’t you have something else you should be doing right now?” He looked from Faith back to Buffy. The softness in his eyes had been masked with steel. “Or do you happen to know something about my new employee here?”
“I’m so sorry Mr. T, yes, she’s with me. Xander drafted her in to help out to cover for Willow with her being off sick and all and I was going to bring her to you so you could check her over but things got crazy busy and she just got stuck right in there and hell, I mean she saved us tonight you know? She was just wicked awesome with the room service and….”
“And is it you who is supposed to be showing Elizabeth here, the ropes?”
“Why yes, yes I am.” Faith cast her eyes downward, looking suitably repentant.
“Then please ensure that any new staff that we employ in the future have the capability to navigate their way around the hotel without causing a nuisance.” He scowled at a silent, nodding Faith then turned to Buffy.
“How long do we have the use of your services, Elizabeth?” He could have sworn that she blushed ever so slightly. She was uncomfortable with the intensity of his scrutiny. Such an innocent.
“Just for tonight, Mr…”
“Thorndale. Mr. Thorndale. But as you have my have gleaned from Lehane, my long standing staff call me Mr. T.”
Holy fricking hell. He was the Mr. Thorndale of Thorndale Hotel… He must be Angel’s business partner. Her eyes bugged slightly at this new piece of information. It’s a good job she hadn’t told him her real name.
Seemingly unaware of her panic, William turned to Faith. “Please can you inform the restaurant that I will be dining at 11:30 and arrange for my Armani suit along with some fresh bedding to be delivered to my room from the laundry service. And you, Miss Elizabeth, may as well make yourself useful for the rest of the night. Due to the staff shortage, the chambermaids have been more effectively deployed to suites other than my own and to be honest, it’s in rather a state.”
Faith caught Buffy’s eye, shaking her head vehemently she mouthed something undistinguishable. Buffy shrugged slightly. What could she do? If she argued, her cover would be blown. At least if she played along, she might still get the chance to slip up to Angel’s suite later on. It wasn’t likely he would leave the suite between now and when she left, he’d be too engrossed in his whorebag. Besides, this man didn’t have a clue who she was and he would obviously have the inside track on Angel. Maybe she could even pump him for information.
“Lehane, are you still here? Elizabeth, follow me. I don’t want you getting lost again now do I?”
Hurrying Faith out of the room ahead of him, Buffy watched her duck off to the left as she followed Mr. Thorndale as he took a right. Here she was, following Mr. Thorndale, millionaire and hotelier extraordinaire to his suite. Without a backward glance, he stalked ahead of her round corner after corner and through door after door. Weaving through the corridors, they took the freight elevator to the seventeenth floor.
He didn’t say a word to her the whole ride, instead making great sport of avoiding her gaze. She remained stood slightly behind him, sneaking a sideways glance to study him closer. His bleached hair was expertly slicked back but she could see the beginnings of curls at the nape of his neck brushing the edge of his midnight blue shirt. The cut of his suit was impeccable, expensive and no doubt the work of some world famous designer. And yet despite this, he still seemed uncomfortable. Oh, he carried himself with confidence and his demeanour was assured and cocky but it was all top show. Beneath his cleverly constructed persona was another man completely and she couldn’t help but wonder what that man might be like or why on earth he chose to hide beneath such a cold exterior.
The elevator chimed, signalling their arrival at his floor. Once more, he strode ahead of her without even a throwing a glance in her direction. Since he had found himself alone with her, he had been cursing himself for creating this predicament. He was undoubtedly drawn to this girl and instead of playing it smart and avoiding her, he had invited her to his suite. It was true, it was a mess but it could have been cleaned in the morning. Also, after he’d seen her eyeing him up in the mirrored panels of the elevator, an attempt at conversation was impossible without drawing attention to his very obvious physical reaction to her. What was it about this girl that made his thoughts so incoherent? Shaking his head, he reached into his jacket pocket for his keycard, stopping so abruptly that Buffy careened right into him.
“Be careful love, you almost turned me into hotel roadkill.” Looking down at her as she fidgeted with her apron and mumbled nervous apologies, he bit his lip hard to curb his need to throw against the wall and have her right then and there. He slid the keycard through the slot causing the door to swing right open.
He waited, holding his arm out indicating she should step into the room ahead of him. Even if his thoughts were impure, the least he could was act like a gentleman. Her vanilla perfume tickled his nose as she slipped past causing his eyes to roll back in his head. She had no idea of the effect she was having on him at all.
Probably because she was so enraptured in his suite. He watched her closely as she moved around the room. He was sure she must have seen such rooms before yet she was drinking everything in like she had never seen anything like it in her life.
And she really hadn’t. She couldn’t believe the beauty she was surrounded with. The room was bathed with a light golden glow from several discreetly situated down lighters. The plush cream carpet melted underneath her feet as she stepped carefully between the light pine furnishings and cream leather suite. The sofa acted as a divide between the living area and the bedroom area which was clearly the focal point of the entire room. A luxurious four poster bed adorned with cream veils of silk stood proudly against the furthest wall. The twin bedside lights burned low, giving the effect of a purely heaven made bed. She guessed that his was favourite place to be and found herself wondering if he’d had lots of company in it… It screamed seduction. She jumped as she heard the door click closed behind her.
“As you can see, my laundry pile is overflowing and my bedding will need changing once the laundry service delivers some fresh sheets. Hell, you know how to clean right? Supplies are in the closet at the end of the hall. The whole place needs sprucing up to be honest, pet. I’m ashamed to say I have been rather lazy this past few days.” He moved around the room, shedding his tie and his jacket as he walked. “If you don’t mind, I would like to take a shower before I change so the bathroom will have to wait until last but I’m sure there is plenty to be getting on with in the meantime.” He threw a wave over his shoulder as he disappeared into the bathroom off to the right.
She couldn’t believe it. She had to clean this suite from top to bottom and all the while, he would be showering in the next room. A mental image of him soapy and naked sprang into her mind. Mentally, she slapped herself. She was as bad as Angel, she shouldn’t be thinking these thoughts about other men. Especially not his business partner! Hypocrite much? She gave herself another mental head slap. But it was over with Angel, she just had to seal the deal, dump the dog and she was a free agent. She had severed any remaining emotions she had for Angel when she had discovered his low down ways. Truth be told, she hadn’t felt happy in their relationship for a long time but it was one of those things that had been easier to go along with then to go without.
Until she’d seen Mr. Thorndale she’d never realised just how much she had gone without. It couldn’t have happened at a worse time nor with a worse person. She couldn’t go there. She wouldn’t. She’d somehow rescue this mission and forget either of them had ever existed. Content with her new plan, she smoothed down her apron and contemplated the laundry pile in the corner of the room. His underwear would be in there. What size would he wear? Groaning loudly, she realised that forgetting Mr. Thorndale might be easier said than done. A sharp rapping at the door disturbed her thoughts. It would be the fresh laundry. Clasping the doorknob, she was about to turn it when a voice shouted through the door.
“Yo, William. You in there?”
Angel.
The doorknob began to turn in her palm. Shocked, she jumped back from the door. Now what?