‘Six weeks.’ He nodded tersely and dug deep to retrieve his business self. ‘I’m not running a drop-in centre, and whatever you think of my current PA it’s a damn hard job. I don’t do hand-holding.’
‘Just put it to her. She might say no.’ Costa stood while Galen still sat. ‘But if she does take the job you might want to book her in with Leo and sort out her wardrobe.’
‘Why?’
‘Trust me on that.’
Galen could not give a damn what Roula wore. Well, so long as there were no patterns... They irritated his brain. Just that.
But she’d been in neutral colours yesterday, apart from the blaze of red hair, and he was hardly going to ask her to dye that.
Maybe she’d ditch the name badge.
First, though, he had to speak with her.
‘You’re wanted,’ Stephanie told Roula loudly, the second she arrived. ‘There’s an issue in The Temple Suite.’
‘He’s probably having Internet withdrawals.’ Roula rolled her eyes. ‘Don’t worry, I’m headed there now.’
‘Pretty flowers!’
‘Yes.’ Roula hadn’t slept either. She had been into the hills and picked a gorgeous spray from the bougainvillea that draped hisyaya’s home and had wrapped the end in wet cotton wool and some plastic. ‘They’re from hisyaya’s,’ Roula said. ‘Hopefully it will appease him...’
Roula did not feel appeased in the least when the door to the Temple Suite opened to the sight of Galen wearing a bemused frown and not much else. She tried to ignore the fact that he was dripping wet and there was only a towel around his loins—after all, she’d seen many guests wearing less.
‘Good morning!’ She gave a cheery smile. ‘I have moved things around so you can have the office if you choose...’ He was the boss’s most important guest after all. ‘And I have brought the satellite phone...’
‘That was quick!’ Galen commented. He had clearly just got out of the shower and made the call before getting dressed. ‘What are these...?’ He looked at the flowers she held.
‘For youryaya.’ Roula said. ‘From her home.’
‘I don’t think so...’
‘She’ll love them,’ Roula insisted, holding them out at arm’s length and trying not to look at him. ‘It would be really nice for her.’
Reluctantly he took them. ‘Please, come in.’
‘As I said, I have arranged for the office—’
‘Roula,’ Galen cut in. ‘I want to talk with you without others around. Actually...’
He stopped. She thought he must have seen her scalding cheeks.
‘If you can excuse me a moment? I’ll go and get dressed and maybe then we can speak.’
She turned and stood in the bright morning sun, as if it might bleach the image of his bronzed wet skin from her eyes, and the memory of the dark hairs on his chest and the glimpse of flat stomach...
She’d walked in on guests wearing practically nothing. Actually nothing at times!
Roula had seen alot, working here!
But, while it might bewilder her a little, unsettle her at times, reassure her at others, this felt different.
For there had been beads of water on Galen’s shoulders and arms, and as he’d taken the flowers she’d seen the darkness of his underarm hair, and she’d tried not to look at his chest, and even that had caused a certain sense of disquiet in the most unfamiliar of ways.
‘Sorry about that.’
She turned at his voice.