Lace, silk, or satin?
I’m dying to know her preference in lingerie.
Scratch that.
I’m dying to rip whatever she’s hiding underneath with my teeth to get to the good stuff. If you’re the lucky bastard to crack Michaela’s tough as nails armor, I’m certain you’ll discover honey sweetness hidden between her legs.
She’s flawless and pretty in a way that doesn’t require ten pounds of makeup and revealing clothes that leave little to theimagination to stop traffic. Something tells me she’s oblivious to the effect she has on the opposite sex.
I like this pretty new toy.
“Thank you again for the delicious lunch,” she says, breaking the palpable sexual tension between us.
“I can’t take credit for anything other than ordering my favorites. Our exceptional chefs did all the hard work.”
“Well, thank you for ordering so well.”
“You’re welcome. I’m glad you liked it.”
So far, the conversation has been casual and pleasant, but that’s about to change.
Let’s get down to business.
I drop my wine glass on the table. “After speaking to your father, you must have a lot of questions for me.”
Her eyes snap to mine and she inhales a sharp breath. “I do.”
“Ask away. I’ll answer them all.”
“There’s one thing I’d like to say first.”
“I’m all ears.”
Her mouth twists in indecision. Like she’s considering backtracking.
“There aren’t any questions that are off the table, Michaela.”
“It’s not a question.”
“What, then?”
“I want to say thank you for not firing my father,” she says. That’s the last thing I expected. “Daddy likes to say he’s more right brain than left, and Mom was the financial mind, but the hotel means everything to him. He’s been working at the Villiers Grand since he was twenty-one. I doubt he could’ve handled losing the hotel and his purpose.”
“Your father has a great rapport with the staff,” I say. “I need him and I need your loyal staff to turn things around. In the grand scheme of things, a year isn’t that long. A complete staff turnover would be like shooting myself in the foot. I’ll havea team of top-notch directors and managers, but your father is an essential part of the hotel. We’ll figure out what’s the best role for him, but I have no intentions on giving him his walking papers.”
“Daddy is so passionate about the hotel, you’d never know he married into the family business, as he likes to say.” She laughs a little. “I’m sure you know my mom’s great-grandfather started the hotel.”
“I do. You can’t buy that kind of heritage.”
She nods.
Niels Knight and Charlize Villiers are from opposite sides of the track. He’s from a working-class family. Charlize was the only daughter of a wealthy hotelier. Niels started working at the concierge desk at night to pay off his student loans. The moment he met Michaela’s mom, it was love at first sight.
When Charlize Villiers-Knight passed away seven years ago, he inherited the management of the hotel until Michaela turns twenty-seven, at which point she’d become the sole owner. Like me, Michaela—born with the double-barreled surname Knight Villiers—has the responsibility of carrying the torch of her family’s name and legacy.
“Your dad mentioned until your stepmom came into the picture, you used to manage the marketing and social media for the hotel.”
“Yes. I have a bachelor’s degree with a double major in art history and business. Once it became clear Thana and I would never get along, I needed an out. Until my trip to Nepal, I was working for a reputable art buyer as his assistant. He promised to keep the door open. I haven’t gotten around to calling him. As for my role at our hotel, I wouldn’t say I was a whiz at marketing. I knew the right people, I hung out at the right parties, and I rubbed shoulders with lifestyle content creators and socialiteswho document every aspect of their lives on social media. It was free publicity. Evidently, it wasn’t enough.”
