“She’s right, I should go if you’re feeling better. I just thought you might have needed something, but now you’re up…” I ramble while removing myself from his grasp.

“I’m only feeling better if you stay.”

“What?” I ask, thinking I must have heard him wrong.

“I’m sure I’ll feel much worse if you leave, so I think you should stay.”

“You’re blackmailing me into staying with you.”

He makes a non-committal noise as a response and just stares at me. I can see from here that he’s really struggling, so I decide not to fight.

“Fine, get back to bed.”

After some disagreement, he finally caves, and once he’s brushed his teeth he goes back to bed. I wait until he is settled before asking if he needs anything. He says he doesn’t, but I head out to the living area and place an order for some toast anyway.

When it arrives, Lucas takes one bite before rushing back to the bathroom. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea, after all. Listening to him heaving into the toilet seriously put me off eating as well, so I have it cleared away and on a tray out in the corridor to be picked up by the time he reappears.

I think he manages about ten minutes before he is asleep again. I can only imagine how irritating being ill must be for a guy like Lucas. I don’t get the impression from him that he spends many days lazing around in bed—he’s too busy trying to take over the world, or whatever it is he spends his days rushing around doing.

I get a huge sense of déjà vu when his phone starts ringing again. I jump up from the sofa where I was sat quietly doing some uni work after he passed out. Again, I don’t look at the screen; I just swipe it and put it to my ear.

“Hello?”

“Oh my, is it you?” another female voice says.

“Uh…I guess that depends on who you think it is.”

“Are you the girl that’s got my Luc tied up in knots?” Something happens inside me when the lady on the other end says those words. I can’t quite describe it. A bubble of excitement? Dread? Hope? I have no idea.

“I’m just his cleaner,” I say, and I feel just as much like a nobody as I did when I was talking to Catherine earlier. I enjoy my job most days, and I have total respect for people who do this day in and day out, but it’s not my calling in life. I want more than this, and I’ve worked damn hard to hopefully have that.

“Hmmm, what’s your name, my dear?”

“Lilly.”

“That’s pretty. Is my son there?” It’s not until she says it that I realise who’s on the other end. Mrs. Dalton. The woman is a bit of a legend with all the female staff around here. She must be in her sixties, but she is the most elegant woman I’ve ever seen. The way she holds herself is like nothing I’ve ever seen before. Weirdly, it’s not pretentious though. She also has this soft and gentleness to her—much like my mum has, I guess. Mrs. Dalton is just a richer, more sophisticated version. I bet she hasn’t ground a coffee bean in her life.

“He is, Mrs. Dalton, but he’s sick. From what I gather, he went out last night and got food poisoning.”

“Oh my goodness. Let me whip up some of my famous chicken soup and I’ll be right over.”

“Oh, that’s so lovely of you, but I should warn you that he just tried some toast and it didn’t stay down. I wouldn’t want you to waste your time.”

“Nonsense. My chicken soup fixes everything.”

“Well, okay then.”

“You’ll still be there; I’ll bring extra. Thank you for taking care of him, dear. Now I know it’s not my place, but I just need to say something.” Everything inside me wants to groan out loud at her statement. She is reading far too much into this situation. “Lucas doesn’t let people in. He has a handful of trusted people and that is it. He also doesn’t let his walls down easily. What I’m trying to say is that he’ll push you away at every possibility, but it’s only because he’s scared. If you care for him like I know he does you, then you need to give him time—and whatever you do, cling on tight, because it will be a bumpy ride. I can guarantee it will be an amazing one as well though, because my boy is a one of a kind. And if you do show him that he can trust you and let you in, you’ll never regret it.”

My mouth drops open to say something, but no words come out.

“Oh, I’m sorry, my dear. I didn’t mean to scare you. I just thought it best I say those things now before it could be too late. I’ll see you soon. I hope you’re hungry.”

The phone beeps in my hand, telling me she’s hung up. I drop back on to the sofa and let her words roll around my head.

If you care for him like I know he does you.

Cling on tight.

Bumpy ride.

You’ll never regret it.

My head is so all over the place that I gather up my stuff, leave a note next to Lucas and run as fast as I can. I need to get away before Mrs. Dalton appears and potentially starts filling my head with more thoughts I don’t need or want.

I go down to the cleaners’ office. Thankfully, there is no one around. After finding an empty room, I head back up in the lift with the key in my hand.

I spread my stuff out across the double bed and try to carry on where I left off. The only problem is that all I do is stare at the blank sketchpad page in front of me. None of the wallpaper samples, paint colours or fabric swatches draw my attention. My sole focus is still on everything that happened upstairs.

I don’t really understand how I got here. I was more than happy just cleaning rooms with either Eve or Imogen, and now? Here I am. I’ve slept with the boss, and I have his mother telling me not to let him push me away. I’m pretty sure I’ve been the one doing the pushing, though. Lucas was the one who went after the date, turned up even after I said no, and has since tried to spend more time with me. Granted, I haven’t seen him for two months until this morning, but I think that might have been because of his bruised ego.

I’ve discovered over the past year that when I need quiet time to work, finding an empty hotel room is perfect. No one knows where I am—they can’t interrupt me like Taylor would at home, or other students would at uni. I can hide away and gets loads done. It also helps that the rooms I’m currently designing are these exact hotel rooms. Using this hotel for one of my final projects has worked perfectly. I have access to most places, plus it’s in desperate need of an overhaul, so I can imagine my designs actually being put to use.

I get two hours of solid work in before my phone starts ringing. I ignore it and let it ring off the first time, hoping it’s someone ringing about my non-existent PPI claim, but no sooner has it stopped than it starts again. I reluctantly reach down and pull it from my bag. The second I see it’s an unrecognised number, I know exactly who it is. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised to have a call this quickly.

“Hello?” I answer, like I don’t know who it is.

“Where are you?” Lucas demands. I almost didn’t put my phone number on the note I left, but in the end, the idea of him being up there and needing something made me do it.

“I’m working, Lucas. Do you need anything?”

“Yes, I need something. You didn’t answer my question. Where are you?”

I hesitate, because I shouldn’t really be occupying an empty hotel room for my own peace and quiet, but in the end I cave. “Room 319.”

“You’re cleaning. I thought you only did my room,” he says, sounding confused.

“I do. I’m…uh…using it to do uni work. I know I shouldn’t, but—”

“It’s fine.”

“What is it you needed, Lucas?” I know I might sound a little harsh, but he’s ruined my peace by demanding to know where I am like he owns me.

There’s no response—he’s already hung up.

“Argh, you irritating man,” I moan to no one but myself.

I sit back against the headboard and look at what I managed to achieve. I’m pleased with the designs I’ve come up with—they are a little edgy and unique. Definitely not the chain hotel look like the room I’m currently sitting in. I know Lucas is organising a refurbishment of this place, and I’m really intrigued to see what they do with it.

Bang, bang, bang.

I let my head fall back against the wall behind me with a thud. Why didn’t I think he’d just turn up?

I pull the door open and find a very rough looking Lucas staring back at me. The man in the doorway is almost unrecognisable from my perfectly put together boss. His hair is a mess and falling across his face. He’s got stubble on his chin and he’s wearing a white V neck t-shirt and grey jogging bottoms. If I saw him in the hotel, I don’t think I’d realise it was Lucas. He looks incredibly hot even though he’s got dark rings around his eyes. Those and his pale skin the only signs he’s ill. I feel my temperature increase and between my legs starts to throb as memories of our night together run through my mind. I shake the thoughts from my head and banish them. They are not helping this situation.

“I would have come up if you’d asked.”

“No, you wouldn’t.” He’s right. I may not have done.

“So did you actually need something?” I ask, stepping to the side as he pushes his way in.

“Yes. You.”

My lips snap shut with surprise.

“What are you doing in here, anyway?” he asks as he walks towards the bed. “Wow.”

I watch as he crouches down so he can get a better look at my designs. He’s silent as he studies each room laid out in front of him.

“I’m sorry, I’ll make sure the room is put back perfectly. I just like the peace and quiet,” I say, going over and starting to tidy everything up.

“Lilly, these are incredible. You’ve basically done the whole hotel.”

I feel my face flush at his compliment. I mutter a thank you before continuing to tidy up.

“Do you fancy a job as my designer instead of my cleaner?”

“Don’t be stupid, Lucas. I’ll meet you upstairs when I’m sorted,” I say in the hope he’ll leave me to it for a bit. He’s taken me by surprise, turning up looking all sexy bad boy. I need a moment to compose myself and remind myself he’s my boss. Unfortunately, he doesn’t leave. Instead, he helps me get everything together before insisting on carrying it all back upstairs.

The second I step foot in his room, I realise what was missing this morning. There was no music. Every single time I’ve been here, whether Lucas has been here or not, there has been music playing. Usually it’s easy going kind of stuff that is easy to work along to. This afternoon is different, because the sounds of Tinie Tempah filter through the entire suite.

I look over my shoulder at Lucas but he ignores the question in my eyes and just walks past me before putting my stuff down next to the sofa. I can’t help but watch his backside as he bends down.

When he looks up, he catches me staring at him. A smirk tugs at the corners of his lips.

“See something you like?” he asks, reminding me of the night he took me out.

As he stands looking smug and waiting for my reply, I spot a flask, a loaf of bread and bowls on a tray on the coffee table behind him.

“Ah, your mum’s famous chicken soup,” I state before heading in that direction.

When I look over my shoulder, I see him looking at me with his mouth open. “How do you know about that?” he asks but then immediately answers his own question. “You spoke to her this morning, didn’t you? I wondered how she knew I was ill. I just presumed the gossip got back about my cancelled meetings.”

“I’m sorry. Your phone rang and to stop it waking you up, I answered it. I’m sorry,” I repeat, because I have no idea if he’s going to be annoyed with my actions.

“It’s fine, Lilly. I bet she was thrilled that a female answered my phone,” he comments with a laugh.

“You’d already told her about me.”

“Not really. She’s tenacious, my mother. Once she gets something in her head she won’t stop.”

The fact he’s not denying telling his mum about me is a shock. Maybe she’s right—maybe there is more here than the one night stand I thought it would be and that Lucas does actually want to spend more time with me. I thought maybe it was all a bit of a joke or something. I mean, not every hotel owner wants anything to do with his cleaning staff.

Once I gather my thoughts, my mouth runs away with me. “And what did you tell her exactly?”

“Well nothing, actually. I went over the day after we went out for dinner and… she can see everything, that bloody woman.”

“What do you mean?”

“Would you like some soup?” Lucas asks, completely ignoring my question.

The soup is delicious—I even have seconds. Lucas, on the other hand, has a couple of spoons full, then puts the bowl down. When I glance up at him, he looks a little green. After a bit of an argument, he eventually concedes and takes himself back to bed. He looks exhausted.

Just like before, he was almost asleep before his head hit the pillow. I pull his bedroom door shut before finishing off the cleaning I escaped from earlier. Once everything is looking as it should, I peek my head around his door to see if he’s still asleep. I’m surprised to see a bright blue pair of eyes looking back at me.

“Hey.”

“Hey, yourself.”

“I was just coming to say that I’m heading off. I’ve finished cleaning, so…”

“Don’t go.” My eyes snap back up to his. “Please,” he says, in an almost begging tone. He sounds so sad and looks a little pathetic with his green glow that I haven’t really got a choice but to agree.

I slip inside the room, pulling the door closed behind me. I stand at the side of his bed and he lifts the covers for me to join him. I’m feeling a little unsure of myself now. I may have just agreed to stay, but what happens next? It’s only just getting dark outside, so going to bed seems a little crazy, and I can guarantee nothing untoward is happening in said bed. And that’s not only because he’s ill. I can’t go there again, even if my memories alone are enough to get me revved up for it.

“Lucas, I don’t think-”

“Just get in. I’ll behave, I promise.” There’s a twinkle in his eye as he says this that makes me question his sincerity.

I stare at him for a few seconds as I try to tell myself to leave. But I can’t.

I slip my shoes off and slide in next to him.

I don’t put much thought into the fact I don’t want her to leave. It was bad enough that I woke up earlier with only a note to say she’d left to greet me. I’m keeping her here this time.

I don’t waste any time moving her so her back is tucked to my front. It’s not what I really want to do, but it’s all I’m allowing for a number of reasons. Mostly because I promised I’d be good. Smelling like vomit is also pretty high on my list.

I don’t remember falling asleep, but it must have happened pretty quickly. I can’t recall the last time I was ill, but I don’t think I’ve ever felt this drained before.

It’s a fight to pull myself from my sleep, but I can hear my phone ringing. I push the haziness away, drag my eyelids open and swing my legs from the bed.

I eventually find my phone down the side of the sofa. It’s unlike me to leave it lying around; it’s usually no farther than a foot away from me at all times. I blame Lilly—she’s messing with my head.

When I look down, I see it’s the manager of our hotel in Yorkshire. “Dalton,” I bark into the phone. I don’t mean to be rude, but it’s three o’clock in the fucking morning.

“I’m sorry, Sir,” her timid voice says on the other line. “But there’s been a fire.”

Shit. “How bad?”

“Bad. I think you’d better get up here.”

“On my way,” I say, already walking back towards the bedroom to find clothes.

I’m dressed and out the door in ten minutes. I feel better than I did yesterday, but not much. I push thoughts of my dodgy stomach down as I race towards the underground garage. I floor the accelerator of my Jaguar and head out into the night.

Thoughts of the mess I might find when I eventually arrive are forgotten as the image of Lilly’s blonde sleep-messed hair filters into my mind. I tried to slip out without waking her but just as I was about to leave I heard a sleepy voice whisper my name.

“I’m sorry, beautiful. I’ve got to go—there’s been a fire and I’m needed.” My words made her sit up.

“Where? Is everyone okay?”

“I don’t know any details yet. I’ll ring you when I can. Go back to sleep.” I gently pushed her back down to the pillow before pressing my lips to her forehead. I wanted to pick her up and take her with me, but I knew I couldn’t. I wasn’t going for a jolly; I was going to assess the damage to our most lucrative hotel and hopefully not have to organise rebuilding it from the ground upwards.

After a few seconds, I pulled away and walked straight out. If I’d have looked back and seen her, it would have stopped me going. That realisation hits me hard. Since the day I started in our family business, I have always put work first. I wanted to show my parents they hadn’t made a mistake in giving me a chance. I wanted to prove to them that I could be a better person, someone they could be proud to call their son. Not the walking disaster that I had been. I’ve never lost focus, but there I was, questioning whether I should take her with me or say fuck it and let someone else handle it.

“FUCK,” I shout when I turn up the driveway to the hotel and see smoke bellowing from the top. All thoughts of Lilly are immediately banished as I look at everything me, my dad and his dad built smoulder in the heat from the flames.

The place is a mess. It’s going to need a lot of work before it’s fit to have guests staying in again. Every square inch of the place is going to need redoing. I just pray that the structure of the building is safe and we won’t need to do any major building work.

The day is long and stressful—not one I will ever look back fondly on, that’s for sure. Once I have as much sorted as I can with the fire brigade, police and members of staff that are still hanging about to help, I book myself into a local hotel to get some rest, ready to start all over again tomorrow. Hopefully, I’ll be able to properly assess the damage better and make some kind of plan.

My arse barely touches the sheet covering the bed when my phone starts ringing.

“Mum,” I state as I put it to my ear. I’m too exhausted to be bothered with pleasantries.

“Your dad wanted me to let you know that he’s just left. He’ll be with you in a few hours. How are you feeling?”

“Better than yesterday,” I answer. It’s the only slightly positive thing I can think to say.

“That’s good. How about the hotel? Is it salvageable?”

“I haven’t got any details yet. They’re still investigating the fire, but the fact the sprinkler system didn’t go off isn’t helpful. The police are concerned it might have been done on purpose.”

“Oh, really? Why would someone do a thing like that?”

“No idea, Mum. I’m sorry, but I need to go,” I say as I feel my body start to give in.

“Of course, you get some sleep before your dad gets there. I love you, son.”

“Thanks, bye,” I respond with a lump in my throat. No matter how many years go by, it never gets easier hearing those words.

I’m just drifting off to sleep when my phone starts up again. I can’t ignore it—the control freak in me refuses in case it’s important.

I sit up and grab it off the bedside table. When I see who it is, I’m suddenly much more awake.

“Lilly,” I greet with a much lighter tone than I’ve used all day.

“How is everything?”

“Fucking disaster. The place is a total mess. It’s going to take a lot of work to get it functioning again and fuck knows how much time. Thankfully, there wasn’t anything more serious than some mild smoke inhalation and a few scratches and scrapes. The thought of something more serious happening doesn’t bear thinking about.”

“I know. So how long are you going to be up there, do you think?”

“Honestly, no idea. My dad is on his way up to help out. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“Really?” The way she asks the question makes my heart beat that little bit faster. I don’t think anyone has ever really cared that much about when I was coming home before—other than my parents.

“Do you miss me already?” I say with a laugh, but I’m seriously curious about the answer.

“I’m just worried about you; you were ill and everything.” Her evasive answer makes me smile.

“I’ll take that as a yes then, shall I?” Just before she responds, I drop the tone of my voice and say, “And just so you know, sleeping here won’t be the same without you.”

I hear loud and clear the huge rush of air that escapes her. It’s good to know that I can affect her from this far away. She’s the master at hiding her true feelings and running away, but I feel like I might be breaking down her barriers. The only thing I worry about with that is I think she might just be doing the same to me.