The Ultimate Surrender

‘More coffee, anyone?’ Polly invited, reaching for the nearly empty cafetière and smiling as everyone shook their heads.

‘That was an excellent meal,’ Phil praised warmly, but whilst both of Suzi’s parents added their praise to his Polly noticed how Suzi flashed her an angry look.

Suzi commented patronisingly, ‘I’m afraid I’m not really in a position to judge. You see our chef has moved on such a long way from this type of food that—’ She stopped and gave a small shrug as though she couldn’t find the words to describe adequately the huge gulf which existed between the meal she had just eaten and the wonders of the food she normally enjoyed.

Although she could feel her face starting to burn with what she knew to be justifiably annoyed colour, Polly calmly refused to allow herself to be drawn, but she had her reward and her justification, had she needed it, when, quite unexpectedly, both Phil and Suzi’s father rebuked together, ‘Suzi!’

‘It was a most enjoyable meal, my dear,’ Suzi’s father went on to compliment Polly. ‘Much more to my taste than some flim-flam of unidentifiable bits of raw this and that served with uncooked vegetables or, even worse, warm salad. Warm salad, I ask you—’

‘Dad, you’re out of touch,’ Suzi interrupted him crisply, whilst Polly, whose own special recipes included several served in such a manner, hid a small smile. Suzi’s father was typical of some of their older male guests for whom she always diplomatically made sure there was a very traditional pudding on the menu in addition to something lighter to tempt their wives’ appetites.

‘You promised me you’d show me round the hotel,’ Suzi reminded Marcus as Polly suggested that her guests might like to move into the drawing room.

‘Perhaps we might accompany them?’ Phil Bernstein suggested.

A little reluctantly Polly agreed. She could see from the looks that both Suzi and Marcus were giving them that neither of them really wanted their company.

And yet, as Phil held open the drawing-room door for her to precede him through it, Polly found herself feeling unusually determined and assertive.

She, after all, had as much right to show someone round the hotel as Marcus, and she also had just as much right to enjoy the company of an attractive member of the opposite sex. Marcus didn’t have any sole rights on being allowed to enjoy some flattering attention, and Phil was being very flatteringly attentive towards her, Polly had to admit.

Was she imagining it or was Phil deliberately slowing down his footsteps so that they fell some way behind the other pair? He was certainly walking far closer to her than was the norm, Polly knew that, his jacket-clad arm brushing hers as he stood even closer to her to admire the elegant architecture of the window halfway up the stairs.

‘Phil, what are you doing?’ Suzi demanded, suddenly turning round to chivvy them, using a tone of voice which privately Polly thought rather inappropriate from an employee to her employer, but it was obvious to her that Phil had a singularly sweet and laid-back nature, not like Marcus, who was standing at the top of the stairs glowering down at them.

‘I was just admiring the view.’ Phil responded to Suzi’s bossy question.

‘But it’s dark outside,’ Suzi told him, frowning.

‘Mmm…’ Phil agreed, and then turned to look at Polly.

Polly couldn’t help it; she could feel herself blushing like a schoolgirl whilst Suzi ground her teeth and then turned on her heel, walking down the galleried landing so fast that she and Marcus had reached the end of it before Polly and Phil had got to the top of the stairs.

As Polly walked faster to try to catch up with them Phil placed his hand on her arm. ‘Let them go,’ he told her quietly. ‘I must apologise for Suzi’s rudeness to you earlier…’

‘I expect she’s still suffering from jet lag,’ Polly offered diplomatically.

It was kind of Phil to apologise to her on Suzi’s behalf but Polly suspected that the other woman wouldn’t be the least bit grateful to him for his tact.

‘Chris’s parents mentioned that you were widowed very young.’

‘Yes. Yes, I was,’ Polly agreed.

‘And you have never remarried? Not for any lack of opportunities, I’m sure.’ Phil smiled gallantly.

‘Looking after Briony and running this place hasn’t left me much time for…for anything else,’ Polly responded.

‘Mmm…I imagine that you would also have difficulty persuading your guard dog to allow another man into your life,’ Phil commented dryly, nodding in the direction the other couple had taken.

‘My…my guard dog?’ Polly repeated in bemusement. ‘You mean Marcus? Oh, but he…isn’t…he doesn’t…’