26
Barclay
“Did someone break into her room?” I ask Peters. He’s usually the measured, never-cracks-a-smile bellman, but a pair of police officers showing up at the hotel has him rattled. I’ve never seen him this jumpy.
“Nothing like that, Mr. Hammond. Apparently Miss Holly’s brother has been trying to get a hold of her all night and decided to have the police investigate. The NYPD is doing this as a courtesy for her brother since it hasn’t been long enough to report a missing person,” he rushed out.
“Oh my God,” Tessa exclaims in utter shock. “I’m so sorry, Barclay.” She releases her hand from mine and cups her face in embarrassment.
“Contessa.” I say her full name for the first time. It sounds like royalty and fits her perfectly. “We’ll get to the bottom of this. Don’t worry. And thank you, Peters. I’ll escort Miss Holly up to her room.”
“I need to check my phone.” Tessa rustles around in her bag with shaky hands as we walk through the lobby to the elevators.
As we stand, waiting, she scrolls through the messages on her phone and shakes her head. She mutters under her breath as she reads each one, and I have no idea what awaits us upstairs. I feel like a teenage boy bringing his date home after her curfew. Hell, it’s only twelve thirty, a few strokes past midnight, and early for the city on a Friday night. Apparently she is Cinderella, at least to her family. And that makes me the bad wolf in this “southern girl comes to the Big Apple” fairy tale.
“Seventeen missed messages from my mother, brother, and even my father. They escalate from ‘how’s your evening,’ to ‘give us a call or we’re phoning the police.’” Tessa gazes up at me with cloudy eyes. “I don’t want to play my voice messages.”
“Understandable.” We enter the elevator and I push the button for her floor.
“Oh God.” A tear escapes her gorgeous baby blue eyes and falls down her cheek. And with it, a piece of my heart falls harder for this young woman. I don’t want her feeling pain ever. I want to shield and protect her, but it’s her family.
“Listen, Tessa. It will be okay.” I hug her and kiss the top of her hair. Soft silk meets my lips and her sweet scent fills my senses. I close my eyes, drinking all of her in.
This protectiveness of her makes me feel uneasy about the confrontation too. I place my fingers under her chin and tilt her head upward so I can see her face. “I think it’s best that I don’t appear as your date for the evening. Does that make sense?”
“Yes,” she says in a shaky voice. I release my arms around her and wipe the tears from her face. “It will raise too many question. Thank you. I’m the worst date ever.”
“Well, having cops at my date’s door is a new one for me. But I’m learning there’s seldom a dull moment around you,” I say with a chuckle. The elevator stops, and the doors open. “Just follow my lead. I’ve got you, baby.”
We exit the elevator and walk down a hallway toward her room. Tessa stays a step behind me. I glance over my shoulder and give her a reassuring smile. We turn a corner, and two uniformed New York City policemen come into view, with the night manager, Josh Presley, on their left.
“Gentlemen,” I say, stopping in front of Tessa’s room. She’s at my side, but partially hiding behind me. “This is Contessa Holly. I’ve escorted her upstairs after my bellman alerted me to the situation.”
“Mr. Hammond. I have Miss Holly’s brother on the phone.” Presley holds his cell phone up. “He’d like to speak with you.”
The policemen stare us down, crossing their arms over their chests, revealing the guns holstered at their waists.
“Let me talk to him and clear everything up,” Tessa says, moving toward Presley with her hand outstretched. “I apologize for the inconvenience to ya’ll.”
“Hold on.” Presley brings his cell phone up to his ear. “I suppose you heard all of this, Officer Holly?”
Presley nods his head, looking from Tessa to me. “All right,” he says into the phone. “Officer Holly would rather speak to you, Mr. Hammond.”
Well, shit. Presley doesn’t wait for my reply before handing me the phone. I clear my throat, feeling like a kid being brought before the principal.
“This is Barclay Hammond,” I say as my hands begin to sweat.
I glance down at Tessa, and her anxious expression makes me hide mine. She needs my confidence, and frankly, so do I. I give her a slight smile and watch her exhale a deep breath. Yeah, I’ve got you, babe.
“Mr. Hammond. Miles Holly here. I understand you’re the owner of the hotel my sister is staying at. Is this correct?” His tone is commanding, and I stifle a scoff at the first question in many to come.
“Yes. I’m the owner,” I say. No need to elaborate on specific details until I know how he plans to take this conversation.
“Do you have a curfew for young women?” I try not to laugh at his ludicrous question, but she did mention I was just like him when I asked if she wanted to become a nun. Maybe she should’ve stayed in a convent while here.
“No. We aren’t restrictive in the hours of our guests coming and going.”
“Do you have a sister, Mr. Hammond?” he asks.
Miles is damn good at his job, because his question goes right to a soft spot. I try to imagine my sister, Victoria, going to a city like Manhattan all alone at Tessa’s age—a gorgeous young woman who hasn’t seen the evil of the real world. As a police officer, Miles knows what criminals are capable of, even in a small town like Monroeville. Plus, he likely DVRs every episode of Law & Order.
The line is silent as he awaits my answer. Sweet Tessa worries her lip and twists a strand of hair around her finger. I take a couple deep breaths.
“Yes, I do.”
“Well, brother to brother, I need you to do me a favor. Can you do this for me, Mr. Hammond?” He pauses, and I have only one answer.
“Of course.”
“Her family would be indebted to you. Make sure she’s safe while she’s there. I was seconds away from booking a plane to New York before she showed up.”
Well, dammit. I sigh. He’d have me arrested for indecency by these two officers if he knew I was kissing Tessa only moments ago, and as hard as marble with one plan on my mind.
“Your sister seems like a bright young woman. More than capable of taking care of herself, but I will watch over her as best as I can.” I side glance toward Tessa, speaking the truth, as much for my own need as a promise to her brother.
“Thanks again. And tell her to keep her phone turned on.”
“Why don’t you tell her?” I hand the phone to Tessa and she mouths, “Thank you.”
She retreats into the open door of her room, and Presley walks behind her, following his phone. The two policemen eye me with suspicion, and I feel like they’re reading my mind.
“Well … I guess we’re done with everything here.” I give them a two-finger salute and head toward the elevator, feeling their eyes on my back as I walk away. I bet they have sisters too. Just my luck.
Once inside my penthouse, I head straight for my bar and pour myself a drink, making it a double. I walk out onto my terrace and recline on a cushioned lounger, staring up at the few stars able to shine through the hazy city lights. The bourbon disappears after a couple swigs. I wanted to share this view with Tessa tonight. Watch her eyes light up as she took in the city’s skyline.
I set my glass on the table next to me and run my hands through my hair. How does a thirty-seven-year-old man, after one kiss, get cockblocked by two police officers? Wait—make that three. He chases after a southern belle and somehow becomes her chaperone.
If only Miles knew what I wanted to do to his sister.
Something tugs at my heart—probably my conscience. It’s a terrible thing to have in this situation, where I want the very thing I promised to keep Tessa from. I’m screwed.
My phone vibrates with an incoming text. Victoria.
Did you get a date for tmrw night?
Shit. I was going to ask Tessa to come to the awards dinner tonight, but worried brothers have a way of putting an end to dates.
What are you doing up so late?
Beatrice can’t sleep, so neither can I. You didn’t answer the ?
I’ll get back to you in the morning.
Okay. Night, Barc.
Night, sis.
I understand Miles’ feelings about his sister. I’d want to punch a guy if he were after my innocent sister too. It’s time to admit one thing to myself: I’m not after Tessa for just sex, though I wish I were making love to her right now under this cloudless night sky.
It’s a different kind of physical desire. More an … indescribable pull I feel toward her. Tessa isn’t a mere conquest. I want to discover what makes her her. In all my years, I’ve never experienced this feeling with any other woman. I’d always thought it was a fairy tale. Maybe I’m wrong to carry on after her, but I don’t want to miss out on the chance if I’m right.
Leaving the terrace, I walk back inside my apartment, pick up the house phone that connects directly to the hotel lines, and press in Tessa’s room number.
“Listen, Miles. For the millionth time, I’m sorry for putting you through—”
“Tessa, it’s Barclay,” I interrupt her.
“Oh thank God.” She sighs, and I imagine her collapsing on the bed. “I’m so sorry and need to thank you for everything you did tonight and also apologize for my brother’s overreaching ways. He can’t understand that I’m not fifteen.”
“First, I have a sister too, and might have been no different. And second, you can thank me by saying yes.”
“Yes?” she says, like it’s a question. At least she trusts me enough to utter the word.
“Good. Now that we have that cleared up, you’re going to attend the Warwick Awards with me. Dinner begins at seven. I’ll have a car outside the hotel at six thirty. Be prompt. You’ll be attending as my plus one, on the request of Don Black. To avoid the press and photos, we aren’t officially on a date.” I pause, taking a breath. I went into CEO mode with her so easily.
“Wow. Thanks. Of course I’ll go with you,” she replies. “I wasn’t sure I’d ever hear from you again after tonight.”
“You think cops with guns will keep me away from you? I want you, Tessa—like I’ve never wanted a woman before.”
“I feel the same about you. Well … but as wanting a guy, not a woman. I think I’ll quit while I’m behind.” She giggles, and the cheerful sound makes me grin like a silly teenager.
“I promised your brother I’d watch over you, so having you near me seems like the best plan. But tomorrow night, you’ll text your family. Let them know you’re back at the hotel after the dinner. You just don’t need to mention you’re with me.”
“Yes,” she breathes.
“Good night, beautiful.”
I pour one more scotch, but this time, I drink it with a smile on my face.