Daniel took his bag over to the bed to unpack, wincing at the sight of flimsy, lacy nightwear laid out ready on the pillow. The shock of finding out he had the prospect of Natalie to contend with took the biscuit. If he wasn't so tired, he would be furious. He dreaded to think what Laura Matheson must make of him and his personal life! This trip was turning into a nightmare, and the last thing he needed was to have to explain things to a woman he'd only just met and who managed to rub him up the wrong way every time he came across her. Knowing she assumed Natalie was his girlfriend made him feel distinctly ruffled. For some reason, he didn't want her making that assumption.
He closed his eyes and savoured the cold beer. All this travelling was beginning to get to him. Maybe he'd been at it too long. The flights, the driving, the hassle. Never being home long enough to relax. He would have to do something about cutting back after this trip.
And yet even as he thought it, Daniel already knew fate and circumstance would not allow him that luxury.
Chapter Three
For the sake of Maria, who spoke no English, and Teresa, who was less confident than she should be with her excellent high school version, Laura lapsed easily into Portuguese over dinner as though a year had not passed since she was last here. While they ate, Paulo dutifully went through everything with her, but since she'd done it all before, they didn't linger long on the details.
Over coffee, he asked her about the new guests, and Laura happily obliged, carefully omitting the fact she'd met one of them earlier that day in such farcical circumstances. When she concluded with the melodrama connected to room eleven, Rachel frowned.
"Mr. Stone booked with Paulo by phone a few days ago," she said, glancing across at her husband for confirmation. "When Miss Hartman's e-mail came through the next day, we assumed she'd only just finalised that she could join him. She quoted his reference number and knew everything about the booking." Her eyebrows knitted together. "Come to think of it, she did check in much earlier today—around lunchtime, I think. I suppose she must have been on a different flight." Her face fell. "How were we supposed to know that he didn't know? I hope you don't have any more trouble over this, Laura. Do you think Paulo should go down there and see if everything's alright?"
Laura glanced at the clock. "No, I don't think that's a good idea. It's late and Mr. Stone looked worn-out. Besides, that's one domestic dispute we're best staying out of, if you ask me!" Shrugging, she added, "I don't think you should worry. All you did was accommodate a late booking and an even later addition. The problem is theirs, not yours. If Mr. Stone didn't want Miss Hartman to tag along, he shouldn't have told her his booking details—or even where he was planning on spending his holiday at all!"
Paulo nodded his agreement, but his face was still troubled. "Except I'm not sure he is on holiday," he muttered, half to himself.
Laura frowned. "What do you mean?"
"Does he seem like a tourist to you?" he asked.
She thought it a strange question, but she answered honestly. "No, I must admit he doesn't come across as a tourist. Definitely someone who travels a lot, though. He seems . . . confident." She wanted to add brusque, demanding, unbelievably attractive, but she refrained. "Why do you ask?"
"No reason." His response was too quick, and he knew it. "I'm curious, that's all. He asked a lot of questions over the phone, details a holidaymaker wouldn't usually ask. Maybe he's just picky."
His mother tutted. "Don't worry, Paulo. Laura's managed picky guests before. She always does a fantastic job here." She patted Laura's hand. "We couldn't manage without you."
But Paulo was still brooding.
****
Laura mulled over the conversation as she walked back to her room. She'd sensed an undercurrent of strain all through dinner but assumed it was only the upheaval of Paulo and Rachel going away. Now, she wasn't so sure. Paulo wasn't his usual easygoing self. Curiosity about his guests was natural enough, she supposed, but there was something else she couldn't quite put her finger on. Was he worried about leaving his business for a couple of weeks?
Rachel had been quiet too. She'd barely eaten and looked pale. Laura wished she hadn't had to spend so long dealing with Daniel Stone's problems. If she could have had a little time on her own with Rachel, maybe she could have asked her about it.
As she neared her door, she heard raised voices and realised with a sinking feeling that they were coming from the room next to hers. Not wanting to eavesdrop, she hurriedly unlocked her door and scurried inside, but despite the walls being thick and well-built, she could still make out the high-pitched tone of a woman and the deeper rumble of a disgruntled man.
It seemed Miss Hartman had made her appearance at last, and it had not gone down well. Hoping the guests in the room on the other side weren't being disturbed, Laura quickly undressed, brushed her teeth, and prepared to sink into her much-wanted bed. Feeling a draught from the window, she crossed the room to close it a little, but as she did so, the conversation next door came through their open window loud and clear.
"This is a business trip pure and simple, Natalie."
"It could be a little of both, Daniel. Business . . . and pleasure."
Laura pulled her window tight shut. If she had to be
