Whispers
Romance Books

New Time New Place
by Irene Fevens

Prologue

"Come on Chris, I'm bored. Let's go out, it's Friday night. For goodness' sake take your nose out of that book for just one evening," said the slim, light-haired girl as she threw herself down on the bed in the undergraduate dorm and looked with exasperation at her friend.

"I can't and you know it," impatiently answered the second girl who was lithe and dark-haired. They had been having the same argument every week for the last year and she was getting tired of it.

"Our grades are not going to change if you take an hour off. Come on," insisted the first girl, but without noticeable effect.

Chris, who took everything very much to heart, was studying for additional college credits and had an extra project going for every one of her professors. She was also working twice a week at the Citizen Hotel helping out the assistant manager. She was obliged to study for at least six hours a day to keep up with her extra workload, while her roommate Cynthia, on the other hand, worked just hard enough to get a passing mark.

"If you want to go out tonight, Cynthia," said Chris, "you'll have to go without me."

"Why do you push yourself so hard, Chris? I really don't understand you," complained Cynthia as she stared across at her friend who finally pushed her books aside and, leaving her place by her desk, walked over to her bed only to reach underneath it and withdraw her suitcase from its hiding place. She then flipped it open and stood for a moment looking down at something before picking it up and handing it to Cynthia.

"What's this?" asked her friend as she stared at a hotel pamphlet before leafing quickly through it. "Impressive place! Do you plan on working there or something?"

"Not exactly," Chris replied in a low voice.

"Then what?" said Cynthia, made a little curious now by Chris's attitude.

"I'm going to own it one day," she said slowly. Cynthia gaped at her and would have laughed, had it not been for the determined look on her friend's face.

"You're really serious aren't you?" she said.

"Of course I'm serious," replied Chris resolutely as she took back the pamphlet and stared again longingly at the picture of the Castle on the Hill, as it was known. She then proceeded to return to her place at her desk, while Cynthia resignedly decided that she had better go out by herself if she wanted to see the town that evening.

Chris found she was unable to concentrate on her work, for the thought of the hotel had begun to distract her. She reached for the pamphlet again and went through it slowly page by page then, getting up from her desk, she left the room closing the door behind her with more force than was necessary. When Cynthia returned later that evening she was not surprised to find that Chris was nowhere in the dorm, and she deduced that Chris had bribed the librarian once again into letting her study late at the library.

Chris, however, was far from where her friend thought her to be. She had driven northeast for about six hours with the tension mounting within her as the kilometres flew by, diminishing the gap that separated her from her destination. Finally, she pulled the car off to the side of the road and quickly climbed the small hill. Gradually, inch by inch, the beautiful old building rose into view and Chris stood leaning back against a large oak tree as she stared up at The Mirage, her Castle on the Hill.

"Someday, you'll be mine," she murmured softly and she lifted her chin slightly as if daring destiny itself to deny it.

Chapter 1

The car raced through the countryside at a rate that matched the pounding heart of the girl behind the wheel. She loved anything that projected power and her sports car always left her feeling exhilarated. She could still remember the first time she had sat in this type of car, she must have been no more than twelve. The power the car possessed frightened her at the time, and even as a grown woman the same power could still set her heart beating faster. The car was black and there was only one reason for her choice, it reminded her of him. She smiled slightly without realizing it.

Resting her arm along the edge of the open window, she laughed happily. She drove faster down the road, passing white picket fences surrounding small white houses, and hay fields. She slowed as she neared the small town, and after passing the church, she turned onto the bridge that crossed the river. She was anxious to arrive at her destination. She came to an abrupt stop in front of The Mirage. The building still managed to leave her in awe. She stared up at the stone castle before she parked her car in the reserved parking space and hurried towards the building.

"Good morning, Charles," she said as she flashed the doorman a smile that showed her perfect white teeth. He tipped his cap politely, acknowledging her greeting. The Mirage always had one or more attendants on hand at all times to help visitors retrieve their luggage from the cars.

She breathed deeply, inhaling the fragrance from the large flower garden opposite the main entrance. She stood for an instant looking up at the five-story classical structure, admiring the vines that covered most of the beautiful old stone and gave a bright appearance to an otherwise grey exterior. She watched as a light wind caught the different flags and fluttered them about in the spring air. Walking through the open doors into a small entranceway, she ignored the bar and dance room on her left and checked quickly to see if the small boutique on her right was already open to guests. Then she headed for the stairs directly in front of her and her high heels were soundless on the expensive oriental style car-peting that could be found everywhere throughout the hotel.

She looked down the long hallway before her. Directly on her left was another small shop. Completely disregarding the conference room and smaller offices on her right, she stepped forward and made her way down the hall. The lobby was decorated with comfortable sofas and chairs, from the ceiling hung large, crystal chandeliers, and round archways made a rolling design down the hall. She glanced quickly into a sitting room decorated with marbled flooring and white wicker furniture. The small piano bar was empty at that hour but she knew the dining room would be crammed with people. She walked towards the main desk which was on her right.

"Good morning Pat. Long night?" she asked the night clerk as she bent over the guest book and examined the pages to see who might have checked in overnight.

"Hi, Chris. No, it's been pretty quiet, but a Mr. Baker phoned to confirm his reservations for the conference next month." Chris smilingly took the note from his hand.

"I'll get back to him immediately," she said glancing at the message in her hand while Pat looked appreciatively at the beauty before him. Her long black hair fell in waves down her back and he watched as she brought her hand up to run her slim fingers through it. Her brown, slightly oriental eyes, sparkled in the morning light. Her nose was straight and her mouth was a perfect bow shape- made to be kissed. Pat quickly brought his mind back to reality.

"A little early this morning, aren't you?" His face was slightly flushed and Chris wondered what could have suddenly heightened his colour.

"I've got some paperwork I want to look over before the board meeting this morning. It's my first meeting with the boss, and I'd like to make a good impression." She was already walking towards the elevators as she spoke. She smiled as the doors opened and closed behind her. If he only knew how true her words were, she thought to herself, he would be surprised.

She had already been there for eight months and today was to be her first board meeting at which the hotel owner would be present. So far, he had been absent from their monthly board meetings, claiming to be away on business. She was anxious to meet the man who ran the finest hotel in the region. She moved her hands down the pleated white skirt, smoothing out any wrinkles that might have formed in the car, then pushed the sleeves of her royal blue jacket just below her elbows.

Once inside her office, she made the necessary phone calls confirming the reservations for all the conferences that were to be held in the hotel over the next few months. She called the florist's to order the flowers for a banquet on Friday and she made a note to herself to check with the kitchen over the menu for the buffet, then she verified the list of appointments she had for the day. At one o'clock, a Mrs. Trenton, the bride's mother, was coming in to look over some final preparations in the Coral Room for the wedding reception. There always seemed to be celebrations taking place somewhere in the hotel.

She loved her job as well as the people she met through the business she handled. How contented it made her feel! This was her hotel, even if the owner's papers said otherwise. That would all change in due time. She was now the assistant manager of the hotel she had chosen ten years earlier as the one she would someday own.

She took a quick glance at the fashionable gold watch on her wrist. She spared no expense when it came to her appearance, but then her guardian had provided handsomely for her, giving her a large monthly allowance which made it possible to afford many of the luxuries that most women in her position could not afford. It also helped pay her college tuition and buy the sports car she drove. The fact was he was generous towards her with his money if not with his time.

The boardroom was just down the hall. She had no way of knowing if Mr. Manning was in the habit of arriving late, but she had no intention of making it hers. Gathering the necessary documents from her desk, she headed towards the door. Most of the employees had already arrived. She took a seat beside Morgan who was in charge of security and who, as far as she knew, had been with the hotel ever since Adrian Manning had inaugurated it. The security agent was tall, with greying hair and was broad enough to conceal her profile completely.

Six employees sat around a large rectangular-shaped walnut table. The smell of fresh-roasted coffee filled the room and water carafes and glasses were placed in the centre of the table. The room was clear and airy because of the four French doors that stood open to catch the breeze. While they sat waiting for the chairman, Chris admired the paintings that adorned the walls. Mr. Manning arrived punctually. She followed him with her eyes as he strolled casually into the room. She thought he looked like an athlete. He was tall, and by the fit of his dark suit, she could tell that he had wide shoulders and a broad chest. His hair was black and tapered at the neck while his face was stern and handsome with skin browned by the sun. His dark eyes looked almost black and they betrayed none of the secrets of the man behind them.

She sat quietly throughout the meeting hardly hearing what was being said around her. It was only when she realized that she was being introduced that her mind came back to the present and she was called upon to report.

"The Trenton reception is expected for eight o'clock. Mrs. Trenton herself is coming in this afternoon to check over the arrangements. I've confirmed the Collins engagement for Wednesday and-"

"Leah!"

"I beg your pardon," she said calmly. Although it had only been a whisper, she had heard what he said.

"Meeting's adjourned," said Adrian Manning as he sat staring at the girl who had just been introduced to him as his new assistant manager. His heart beat rapidly in his chest and he sat motionless. He felt as if he had seen a ghost, but this woman in front of him looked very real. No one questioned Mr. Manning's order as he had gone quite pale, and they all believed he must have suddenly felt ill.

"Craig, stay behind a minute, will you?" he asked as he frowned and continued to stare at the young woman. Craig Archer, the manager, stayed in his chair and looked curiously at Adrian, who ignored the questioning glares and murmuring voices of the other employees as they left the room. Never in the ten years he had been working for him had he seen him cancel a monthly board meeting so abruptly. He ran his hand thoughtfully along his beard as he stared at Adrian.

"Who is she? I want to see her file," snapped Adrian jumping up out of his chair and coming up to Craig.

"Who? Christina?" asked the manager, rising from his chair. They were the same height, but Craig did not have the strong build that Adrian had, and he always felt out of place when standing near him. So he stood with his hands in his pockets.

"Please, no questions, just get me her file." Craig hesitated for only seconds, then went to find the records he had on Christina. Adrian paced the room, rubbing his hands nervously together. Who was that woman and what was she doing in his hotel apparently as a part of his management system. He knew it could not be Leah for she had died, in a tragic accident, many years earlier. He felt as though he were falling apart and looked around impatient for Craig's return.

He reached the door even before Craig had opened it, and then he snatched the folder from his hands. Craig felt uneasy. Adrian had never questioned his decisions before. He wondered what Adrian's interest in this woman was.

"You told me to hire someone qualified and she was the best." He wanted to sit down but felt too intimidated to do as he wished, so he just stood where he was, watching Adrian stalk around the room as he read the file.

"I'm not questioning your judgment, Craig," said Adrian who continued to study the documents which stated that the applicant was twenty-eight years old and had been born and raised in Europe. She was named Christina, her family name was Benjamin, and according to the file she had no living relatives. The file also contained letters of recommendation from all her college professors.

Although the file seemed innocuous, his instinct for anything dubious had never yet let him down, and his heart told him that something did not ring true. He was not convinced that she was who she claimed to be. Several possibilities ran through his mind. She might have changed her name. Christina, Chris, Crystal. The difference was not great enough for anyone to realize that she had changed her name if Crystal had already assumed the nickname Chris. He had not seen Crystal for years, but at that time it had been easy to see that she would take after her mother, Leah, in looks. Leah. His heart beat a little faster. She had been the most fascinating woman he had ever known, and the only woman he had ever really loved.

He had accepted Leah's daughter as his own and had grown to adore the girl, but after Leah's death, he seemed to fall apart and when he had finally regained control of his life again, he had felt too unsure of himself to go back for her. He tried to provide for her adequately on the material level, and he had a yearly report drawn up for him by a firm of private investigators, who were instructed to act discreetly. The last report he received had indicated her departure for a course of studies in London. He decided he would have to get the secret file from his suite, in order to make a definite check of the photographs.

"How good is she at her job?" he snapped as he turned towards Craig.

"As I said, she's the best," answered Craig hesitantly.

Adrian wanted to order Craig to fire her at once, but he knew that he had no legal grounds to dismiss her. He would just have to avoid her, at least until the next report from the investigators came in. This was due in six month's time. Enough time, he thought to himself, to run into emotional complications. He thrust the file back into Craig's hands.

"Is there anything wrong?" Craig asked puzzled.

"No, but she reminded me of someone I used to know and I wanted to see if there was a possibility she might be a relative." After Craig left him, he remained there, gazing out of the open French window. He caught sight of her as she walked slowly through the garden and he watched as she bent to pick a flower before continuing down the gravel path.

Chris played idly with the rose as she thought about Adrian Manning. He was even more handsome than she had imagined. She knew he was not married, but she wondered if he had a mistress. He had called her Leah instinctively, she thought. It was obvious that she reminded him of someone. She wondered if that would be to her advantage. Passing around a large row of trees, she went to sit on a low stone wall.

Adrian found himself hurrying through the hotel before he even realized he had left the conference room. He took the same path he saw Chris take and slowed only when he saw her relaxing in the sun. Leaning against one of the trees, he stood staring at the woman before him, but he could not account for his actions nor could he explain why he was there or what he was hoping to find. Sensing that she was no longer alone, Chris turned around slowly to find Manning gazing at her. He straightened and came towards her.

"What are you doing here?" he asked slightly indignant, making her wonder what she had done to provoke his temper.

"It's my dinner hour," she said with a puzzled air, bewildered by his attitude.

Realizing how ridiculous his question must have sounded, he quickly apologized. Then he continued to search her face as if looking for something and Chris grew quite uncomfortable under his scrutiny.

"Please excuse me," she said. "I have an errand to run." She walked away from him towards the parking lot, and headed for her car. He stood at the row of trees and watched her pull away from the curb in a black sports car. His thoughts flew back in time, remembering a young girl huddled deep in the plush interior of the black sports car he used to own. He heard a voice from the past say, "I like your car," as she smiled happily listening to the hum of the engine, "I want a car just like this one."

Adrian felt that things were getting slightly out of hand. He was beginning to grow curious and his curiosity always got him into trouble. Too many memories were being forced to the surface too quickly. He suddenly felt very tired.

Chris loved a mystery, and she thought that Adrian Manning was better than a Sherlock Holmes enigma. Chris smiled as she pressed the button that opened the sun roof in the car. She had some time to herself before Mrs. Trenton's arrival and she had a dress to pick up for her evening out at The Palace that night. She wondered what would be on the menu.

NEW TIME NEW PLACE
a new contemporary romance by Irene Fevens Copyright 2000 published by Editions Odyssey.