****
His late meeting over, Daniel couldn't face dinner. Instead, he drove back to the hotel, ordered a sandwich from the bar, and took it back to his room. Propping himself up with pillows in the bed, he ate as he reviewed his schedule for the next few days. The only things that were set in stone were meetings at hotels, which were effectively viewings as well. Sightseeing could be slotted in and around them.
As he riffled through his papers and juggled with distances and estimated driving times, Daniel cursed the Quinta Maria for its enchantment. Why he'd been so fixated on the one hotel when he had dozens to go to, he had no idea. It was a novelty to become familiar with his room, to stroll or jog through the grounds, maybe take a quick swim in the odd quiet patch of time he had, but it also made him feel like he should be on holiday, relaxing. He wasn't and he couldn't.
He looked again at his schedule. It was a push to make it fit around Laura's stints in reception, but he could do it. He wanted to do it. The idea of her keeping him company over the next few days buoyed his spirits more than he cared to admit. His only worry was whether he would be able to stick to his side of their friendship-only pact. She was right in insisting on it, he knew she was—a holiday fling would be stupid and pointless for both of them—but it wouldn't be easy.
It wasn't only a question of keeping his hands to himself, although goodness knew that was a challenge in itself. Daniel was also beginning to listen to his inner voice, and that small whisper was telling him he was lonely; that he might be ready for a relationship again. The problem was, he didn't see how he could possibly sustain one with his current lifestyle. Fliss and Natalie had both proved that to him in different ways. And Laura had made it plain she had no intention of getting involved with anyone for the time being.
With a sigh, Daniel brushed crumbs from the bedspread and picked up his phone to ring Ben. Might as well cheer his brother up with the good news that Natalie would soon be back at work.
****
In the end, Daniel decided Laura probably knew better than him how to make his schedule for the next few days work, so he wrote out a rough version and pushed it under the reception door before going for an early morning jog, hoping she might find a spare few minutes to tweak and pummel it into shape.
When he called for her just after ten to see if she could get away a little early, she'd done just that, and she'd ordered two coffees to be brought up from the breakfast bar so they could go through the schedule together before they set off.
"I hope I'm dressed okay," she said anxiously as they stood to leave. "I can change if not, but I didn't bring anything suitable for business meetings."
Daniel was in his lightweight summer suit again, but Laura seemed uncomfortable about her own neat sundress. He couldn't have cared less if she wore a bin bag, but as it was, her dress was just fine; and if the hotel managers they dealt with were male, he didn't imagine they would see much beyond her startling eyes and sun-kissed cheekbones. If they did, well, tanned skin contrasting against turquoise cotton and slim ankles leading to low-heeled sandals were hardly going to offend. With a start, he realised his heart was pumping too fast—and he hadn't answered her yet.
"You look fine," he said gruffly. "More than fine." He headed to the car while she locked up, willing his pulse to behave itself over the next few hours.
"So how does this work?" she asked him on the drive inland.
"It has something called an engine. You feed it petrol."
She punched him on the arm. "I meant the visits to the hotels. Are they to look around, so you can recommend them? Or do you negotiate rates, or what?"
"Stone Brothers only recommends a small number of select hotels in each area," he explained, "and I would never book a client into a hotel I haven't personally visited and preferably stayed in. Usually I try to stay in each place incognito, as it were, and then arrange a meeting with the manager or owner."
When she gave him a puzzled frown, he shot her a sheepish glance. "In a moment of madness, I decided not to this time, but it hasn't worked. It means I have to be shown around, which substantially lengthens each meeting, and of course they're not going to show me bad service or inferior-quality bed linen—the sort of thing you find out when you actually stay somewhere." He shrugged. "But I have a pretty good gut instinct nowadays, and I'll have to come back again soon anyway."
"But you don't just recommend them, you book everything as well?"
Daniel nodded. "Which is why I like to meet face-to-face with the owner or manager. It gives me a personal connection in case my clients encounter any problems, and I need to negotiate a rate, obviously. We may be a small company, but we're exclusive. We recommend few hotels, so the ones we do send our clients to get a steady trickle of business they're happy to see."
Approaching Ponte de Lima, they concentrated on finding the hotel. He could tell the manager was instantly charmed by Laura—despite or because of her sundress? he wondered—and when she greeted him in Portuguese, it was like she was his long-lost cousin. As Daniel negotiated his way through the tour and the meeting, he was impressed with her instinct as to when to remain
