He knelt in front of her, his big palms resting on her bare legs. ‘Which one of my clients broke my rules this time?’
She shrugged, not willing to share the name of the man she’d tempted into bed. She knew William had warned them all to stay away from her. She had misled him as much as William. ‘It doesn’t matter.’ She wanted William to be angry at her continued disrespect, but he remained calm.
‘You won’t find what you’re looking for.’ William felt like a bastard delivering such harsh words. He knew what she wanted. ‘I can’t look after you,’ he said quietly, pulling down the hem of her short dress.
‘I know,’ she whispered.
William took a long, tired breath. He knew she didn’t belong in his world. He didn’t even know if he belonged any more. He’d never let compassion interfere with business, never put himself in situations that could ruin his well-respected standing, yet this young female had stamped all over that claim. It was those sapphire eyes. He never let sentiment get in the way of business either – he couldn’t afford to – but this time he’d failed.
His big hand lifted to stroke her soft, porcelain cheek and the desperation in her eyes pierced his hard heart. ‘Help me do what’s right. You don’t belong here with me,’ he said.
She nodded, and William exhaled a breath of relief. This girl was too beautiful and too reckless – a dangerous combination. This girl was going to find herself in trouble. He was furious with himself for letting this happen, despite her deception.
He looked after his girls, respected them, made sure his clients respected them, and he always kept his eagle eyes open for anything that might put them at risk, mentally and physically. He knew what they would do before they did it. Yet this one he’d let slip. This one had fooled him. He couldn’t blame her, though. He blamed himself. He was too distracted by this young woman’s beauty – a beauty that would for ever be etched on his mind’s eye. He would send her away again and this time he’d make sure she stayed away. He cared about this one too much to keep her. And it seared painfully on his dark soul.
Chapter 1
There’s something to be said about making the perfect cup of coffee. There’s even more to be said about making the perfect cup of coffee from one of the spaceship-like machines I’m staring at. I’ve spent days watching my fellow waitress, Sylvie, complete the task with ease, while chatting, grabbing down another mug, and tapping the order through the till. But all I seem to be achieving is a royal mess, of both the coffee and the area surrounding the machine.
I force the jammed filter contraption on with a quiet curse and it slips, scattering the coffee grains everywhere. ‘No, no, no,’ I mutter under my breath, grabbing my cloth from the front pocket of my apron. The damp rag is brown, a dead giveaway to the millions of other times I’ve wiped up my mess today.
‘You want me to take over?’ Sylvie’s amused voice creeps over my shoulders and makes them sag. It’s no use. No matter how many times I try, I always end up in the same pickle. This spaceship and I are not friends.
I sigh dramatically and turn, handing Sylvie the big metal handle thingy. ‘I’m sorry. The machine hates me.’
Her bright-pink lips break out in a fond smile, and her black shiny bob swishes as she shakes her head. Her patience is commendable. ‘It’ll come. Why don’t you go and clear table seven?’
I move fast, grabbing a tray and making my way over to the recently vacated area in the hope of redeeming myself. ‘He’ll sack me,’ I muse, loading the tray. I’ve only been working here for four days, but on hiring me, Del said it would only take me a few hours of training on my first day to get the hang of the machine that dominates the back counter of the bistro. That day was hideous, and I think Del shares my thoughts.
‘No he won’t.’ Sylvie fires the machine up, and the sound of steam rushing from the froth pipe fills the bistro. ‘He likes you!’ she calls louder, grabbing a mug, then a tray, then a spoon, a napkin and the chocolate sprinkles, all while rotating the metal jug of milk with ease.
I smile down at the table as I wipe it before collecting the tray and making my way back to the kitchen. Del’s only known me for a week, and he’s already said that I haven’t a bad bone in my body. My grandmother has said the very same thing but added that I’d better grow some soon because the world and the people in it are not always nice or gentle.
I dump the tray on the side and start loading up the dishwasher.
‘You okay, Livy?’
I turn toward the gruff voice of Paul, the cook. ‘Great. You?’