There had to be coffee. All hotels provided little sachets of instant granules. Surely a hotel of this ilk would have a jar of a luxury blend?
A fruitless search found some very posh tea bags that smelt woefully caffeine-free and way more like pot-pourri than tea—and then she saw it.
Whoa.
It was the mother of all coffee machines, the type that you would need ten hours’ solid sleep and two degrees in advanced physics to use.
Next to it was a jar of coffee beans.
Might be quicker to eat a few.
Even as she contemplated the idea a knock on the main door of the suite distracted her and caused hope to surface. Maybe it was Room Service. Maybe Adam had ordered a full English breakfast and a steaming pot of coffee and maybe they were just outside the door.
Glory be!
Olivia scuttled down the corridor.
‘Don’t open it!’
The peremptory command reached her ears a fraction of a second too late; she’d already tugged the door towards her.
The pop of flashlights triggered a swirl of stars in front of her eyes. Unfortunately not bright enough to obscure the hideous sight of a scavenging pack of reporters on the threshold. Thank goodness she’d brushed her hair and pulled on jeans.
Various shouts permeated her eardrums.
‘How does it feel to filch a man from a woman like Candice?’
‘Where is the love rat?’
Then Adam was at her side, positioning himself so that his body shielded hers from view.
‘No comment,’ he said evenly, and with that he closed the door with a decisive bang and a succinct swear word.
Rubbing the back of his neck, he looked down at her. ‘You OK?’
‘No. Of course I’m not OK. I was expecting toast and scrambled eggs and sausages and coffee and I got a microphone shoved in my face. How did they even get up here?’
‘That’s exactly what Nathan is finding out. And heaven preserve the staff member who gave those reporters the keycode to the lift.’
A horrible thought filtered into her coffee-and sleep-deprived brain. ‘They haven’t found out about the baby, have they?’ she whispered.
‘No,’ Adam said. He gestured down the hallway. ‘I’ll make coffee and explain.’
‘Hold the explanations until the coffee kicks in.’ Olivia watched Adam, reading the message sent by the grim set of his lips and the tightness of his jaw. Adam Masterson wasn’t a happy man and she was pretty sure someone was going to pay the price.
‘So what’s this all this about?’ she asked, coffee cup in hand. ‘They mentioned Candice.’
‘Yup. Candice has decided to score some publicity,’ Adam said. ‘According to her, she and I were an item and I specifically asked her to last night’s event, where she thought I was going to ask her to move the relationship to a higher plane.’ Adam broke off and snorted. ‘This is utter drivel. Anyway instead I turned up with you, so according to Candice I’m a love rat and you’re...’
‘The other woman?’ Horror clogged her throat and Olivia nearly choked. ‘Who stole you away from Candice.’
This was the stuff of nightmares. Her friends, her clients, her mum would open the papers and she would be revealed as the other woman. The other woman who had slept with a man for his money.
‘You’ve got to do something.’
‘Damn right we’re going to do something about it.’
Olivia frowned. ‘You really care. And I’m guessing it’s not my rep that you’re worried about.’
‘No, it’s not,’ he said. ‘What I care about is the fact that Candice is planning to sabotage a charity event I’m co-hosting. I’ve sponsored the launch of a charity fashion show. Now Candice is threatening to boycott the show, along with the rest of the modelling community, and make a call for all the other women whose hearts I’ve broken to picket the show.’
Indignation heated her veins. ‘She wouldn’t really do that. Surely that’s negative publicity for her?
‘I assume she thinks it’s worth it to paint me as London’s premier love rat.’ His stride increased, covering the travertine kitchen floor in a few easy lopes. ‘Particularly at a charity function that means a lot to me. I will not let this event be disrupted.’
‘Why don’t you grovel to Candice?’ Olivia paused, her imagination balking at the idea of Adam kowtowing to anyone. ‘Apologise for the misunderstanding, explain that we’re just friends. I’ll back you up on that. We’ll say that I’m a friend who agreed to pose as your date to protect you from the baggers. That you hadn’t realised Candice was interested in you. That you are incredibly flattered and would love to go out with her. Then she’ll walk the catwalk for you and everything will be fine.’