Joan Pickart - Taming Tall, Dark Brandon

“It’s none of our business, Jennifer. Don’t you have something to do in the dining room?”

“Maybe we should invite Andrea to the staff Christmas party.” Jennifer went on as though Brandon hadn’t spoken. “That might brighten things up a bit for her.”

“Don’t be silly. We can’t start doing something like that. What if other guests hear that Andrea was included in the staff party? No, absolutely not. Staff is staff. Guests are guests.”

Except that he’d kissed the socks off the guest under discussion, Brandon thought. Hell.

“All right, Mr. Scrooge,” Jennifer said. “Maybe the aunties will take Andrea under their wing so she won’t be quite so lonely.”

“I’m sure they will. They’re aware of the fact that Andrea doesn’t have any family.”

“No family at all? No one?”

Brandon shrugged. “Apparently not.”

“That’s sad, it really is. I wonder why an attractive woman like Andrea isn’t married?”

“I’d say she’s married to her work, because Ben said she was suffering from exhaustion.”

“Oh, I see,” Jennifer said, nodding. “She needs to learn how to stop and smell the flowers.”

“Jennifer, do you realize you have me standing here gossiping about one of our guests? I don’t do things like this. Go away.”

Jennifer laughed. “Yes, boss. Whatever you say, boss. Your wish is my command.”

“I should hope so.”

“You never did say if you agree with me that Andrea is pretty.”

“Goodbye, Ms. Mackane,” Brandon said, frowning at her. “Go earn your keep.”

‘“Bye,” she said, wiggling the fingers of one hand at him.

“Women,” Brandon mumbled as Jennifer disappeared from view.

The next two hours flew by as Brandon was approached time and again by guests with questions needing to be answered.

He supplied brochures listing the holiday activities taking place in Prescott, arranged for the mailing of Christmas gifts that had been purchased in town, helped several couples decipher maps for destinations of outings planned for the next day, and answered the telephone, telling three frantic, local hostesses that Hamilton House had no vacancies.

No vacancies, Brandon mentally repeated as he replaced the telephone receiver. That was due to the arrival of the woman who had taken occupancy of the last available room in the hotel.

Andrea.

Jennifer had appeared briefly an hour before to announce that Andrea had requested that a salad, small steak and a pot of tea be delivered to her room. Jennifer had looked at him intently, as though expecting a major reaction regarding Andrea’s choices for dinner. He’d simply shrugged, causing Jennifer to glare at him and stomp away.

What had Jennifer wanted him to say about Andrea’s meal, for Pete’s sake? Food was food.

Now that he really thought about it, however, Andrea hadn’t ordered very much to eat, which was probably the point Jennifer had been attempting to make. Andrea should have added a potato, vegetables and dessert to her dinner. She was physically exhausted, and should be consuming more food to bolster her energy.

When he’d held Andrea in his arms after she fainted, he’d been aware, very aware, of how delicate she was, how fragile. She needed someone to look after her, to take care of her.

Brandon shook his head and frowned.

Yeah, right, he thought dryly. Andrea was a big-city executive, who was dedicated to her career to the exclusion of everything else, including her own health and welfare.

She didn’t want, nor seemed to need, anyone intruding on her focused life.

He’d lived that type of existence for more years than he cared to admit. When he’d suddenly suffered from chest pains, his doctor had told him that he was a lucky man. His body had warned him of a potential heart attack waiting in the wings even though he was only thirty-five years old. Brandon decided then to make some adjustments in his life-style.

So, he’d walked away from the world of highpressure, corporate law in New York City, taken courses in hotel management, and returned to Prescott, to his roots, to take possession of Hamilton House and begin the restorations that were needed so badly.

The charming old building had been in the Hamilton family since the day it was built at the turn of the century. When his great-grandfather had died, the series of leases had begun, the hotel falling into good hands at times and into inefficient care at others.

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