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The new boss...
Her family hotel has just been taken over and Wynne needs to do whatever it takes to seem bright, breezy and unflappable. Easier said than done! If she can work nicely with the charismatic Xavier Ramos then her colleagues might just keep their jobs...
Xavier has no qualms about ruthlessly transforming a homely motel into a chic boutique hotel—only, he has a fight on his hands against fiery Wynne! While he’s busy taking over her hotel, with every battle he finds she’s taking another piece of his heart...
“What kind of comfort are you offering me, Wynne?”
She glanced up into his eyes. The cold, calculated hardness in them—so at odds with his touch and his words—made her shrink back inside of herself. She took a step away from him, tugging her hand free. “Not that kind of comfort.”
Her voice sounded like it belonged to somebody else.
“Are you sure?”
How could he make his voice so warm when his eyes were so hard?
“Positive.”
“Because I do not fraternize with my staff.”
She prickled at the threat latent in his words—that if she attempted to fraternize with him, he’d see it as grounds for instant dismissal. She couldn’t be dismissed. Not yet.
She drew herself up to her full height. “If by fraternize you mean sleep with, then let me assure you that you’re safe from me.” She whirled around and made for the conference room. “You’re not my type,” she hurled over her shoulder.
The Spanish Tycoon’s Takeover
Michelle Douglas
MICHELLE DOUGLAS has been writing for Mills & Boon since 2007 and believes she has the best job in the world. She lives in a leafy suburb of Newcastle, on Australia’s east coast, with her own romantic hero, a house full of dust and books, and an eclectic collection of sixties and seventies vinyl. She loves to hear from readers and can be contacted via her website, www.michelle-douglas.com.
To Janet,
who always champions the underdog and expects no thanks in return. You’re an inspiration.
Contents
WYNNE STEPHENS TURNED a full circle on the spot, pressing a hand to her churning stomach. The foyer of Aggie’s Retreat gleamed. She should be proud.
But, even looking at it through her usual rose-tinted glasses, she knew the sparkling cleanliness couldn’t hide the fact that the carpet on the stairs leading to the first-floor rooms was badly worn and starting to fray, or that the ornate double doors leading into what a brass plaque grandly pronounced as The Drawing Room were such poor Victorian imitations as to be almost laughable. The pounding at her temples increased.
To make matters worse, the skylight above them flooded the foyer with so much Queensland Gold Coast sunshine as to completely counter the motel’s cosy Victorian manor theme.
No, no—sunlight is good.
Sunlight was a mood-enhancer, right? She wanted Xavier Mateo Ramos in as good a mood as possible. And why shouldn’t he be? He’d just bought her pride and joy.
‘I thought he’d be here by now.’ Tina drummed her fingers repeatedly against the back of the stool she stood behind.
Wynne couldn’t sit either. She moved behind the check-in counter to tidy the tourist brochures arranged on a discreet stand at its far end. They didn’t need tidying, but her hands needed to be busy. She tried to keep her face smooth, despite the pounding at her temples and the nausea swirling in her stomach.
She managed a shrug. Whether she managed nonchalance, though, was debatable.
‘He didn’t give an exact time for his arrival.’ She’d been expecting a text for the last couple of hours, but though she’d kept checking one hadn’t arrived. She checked her phone again all the same.
‘It’s a long flight from Spain. Maybe he and his party decided to stay over in Sydney for another day.’
‘I wish he’d stay there forever!’
Wynne tried to send her front-of-house reception clerk and right-hand woman a buck-up smile, but if the narrowing of Tina’s eyes was anything to go by she hadn’t succeeded.
‘I have a bad feeling about this.’ Tina thumped down to the stool. ‘If your grandmother knew she’d have kittens, and—’
‘But my grandmother doesn’t know,’ Wynne cut in, her heart twisting. ‘She’s never going to know. She...’