"Good morning," Laura said politely, knowing it was a redundant greeting. From what she'd overheard, Natalie wouldn't class her morning so far as anything like good.
"I need another room," the other woman said, with no attempt at polite formalities.
"I'm afraid we're completely full at the moment."
Natalie pursed her lips. "You must have something. I know you people always hold something back for emergencies."
Laura bit her lip at the patronising tone. "I'm sorry, but that's simply not the case. This is a small hotel. All our rooms are currently occupied, as I told Mr. Stone last night."
Natalie's cheeks flushed red. She obviously didn't know Mr. Stone had already tried to get another room, and for a brief moment Laura almost felt sorry for her. She must be embarrassed about demanding to share his room and now having to ask to move out. Laura's pity faded rapidly, however, with the barefaced cheek of the woman's next gambit.
"I would have thought you would want to be more helpful, since this is all your fault in the first place!"
Laura's mouth gaped open. "In what way, exactly, is this the hotel's fault, Miss Hartman?"
"Messing up my reservation, of course!"
Laura took a deep breath. "You asked to be added to Mr. Stone's booking. We simply followed your instructions."
"I meant in a separate room," Natalie snapped. "If you had no more rooms, you shouldn't have accepted my booking. Your customer service here is appalling."
Laura shook her head. She wasn't going to let this hateful woman blame her own idiotic schemes on the hotel. She didn't know how she had the nerve! Reaching into Paulo's reservations file, she pulled out the copy of Natalie's e-mail and handed it to her.
"I'm afraid you're mistaken. Your e-mail definitely asked to be added to the booking and to share Mr. Stone's room. As for customer service, the hotel followed your request to the letter—at extremely short notice, I might add."
Natalie lifted her sunglasses to read, her mouth twisted and her eyes hard. Laura couldn't understand why she'd tried to call her bluff like this. She must have hoped they hadn't kept a copy of her e-mail, or that her wording had been ambiguous enough for her to argue her case.
"So you're not prepared to help me in any way?" was all she could come back with.
"I didn't say that. I'm happy to help in any way I can, but I can't conjure a room out of nowhere. If you like, I could …"
"Forget it." Screwing up the copy of the e-mail in her manicured fist, Natalie swirled around and stalked through the door without a backward glance.
Laura immediately called up Paulo's reservations folder on the computer and printed off another hard copy to file away, before she could forget. If Miss Hartman thought she'd destroyed the only evidence of her faux pas, she could think again. Ah, well, she thought, I don't suppose it can get any worse.
The minute the thought entered her brain, she knew she'd asked for trouble.
****
Shored up with a strong espresso served by a pretty young woman in the breakfast room, Daniel made for the reception building. The caffeine had got the blood going in his veins but unfortunately made no inroad on his backache or headache, and since he couldn't face driving until he'd eased both a little, he had no option but to scrounge something from the hotel.
As he headed up the path, he steeled himself to be polite. Miss Matheson may be incompetent when it came to luggage and hire cars, but he had to give her the benefit of the doubt and assume she could at least procure him some painkillers. Besides, she couldn't be that hopeless, or surely the owners wouldn't leave her in charge.
Guilt stabbed at him alongside his headache as he remembered how terse he'd been yesterday. It wasn't Miss Matheson's fault that Natalie had rolled up out of the blue to make his life a misery. Then again, it certainly was Natalie's fault he had a backache. He hadn't paid good money for a luxury hotel only to sleep on the floor, but that was exactly what he'd had to resort to. The floor tiles had been cold even under the thick rug he'd used as a mattress; he'd half expected Natalie to jump his bones despite his warnings, and even with his ex-girlfriend in the room, it had been surprisingly hard work to banish Laura Matheson's strangely coloured eyes from his mind.
Stooping to enter without banging his already pounding head on the low doorframe, Daniel resolved to be courteous, but as he glanced across to the desk, his stomach flipped an unexpected somersault, stopping him in his tracks.
He'd considered Laura Matheson attractive yesterday despite her ineptitude and officious demeanour, but he'd been happy to put that down to some kind of travel-weary delirium. Now, in the bright light of day, there was still no doubt he found her a striking woman, and the unexpected rush of attraction arrowing deep into his gut took him by surprise.
Daniel didn't like surprises. In his line of work, it paid to remain in control of a situation. And that was what this was, he reminded himself—work.
"Good morning, Mr. Stone," Laura greeted him politely. "I trust you slept well?" When he only stared at her, speculating as to whether or not she was mocking him, she added sweetly, "You seemed so tired last night."
"Actually, I didn't—not that it's any fault of the hotel," he said.
"I'm glad to hear it—that it's not our fault, I mean, not that you didn't sleep well."
Daniel detected relief in her voice and tension in her stance. Had he behaved so badly last night?
"What can I do for you?" she asked him.
He pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm not sure it's in your remit, but do you have any painkillers? By the time I drive off and find somewhere that sells them, my head may have exploded."
She raised an eyebrow. "We certainly
