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I’d never heard of it. However, I rapidly came to learn that even though Dalton came across as a lovable nutcase, when it came to business he knew his stuff.
    Both the hotel in France and the one I’d worked in back in Cornwall had a distinct quality I could only describe as Dalton’s presence running through them. They were also similar in theme: red oaked panelling on the top half of the outside while cream render coated the bottom. Each one of the four floors had simple balconies surrounded by wooden rails and large windows that either opened out on to the mountains at the front or a lake at the back.
    A structure so large should have stood out in the natural surroundings, yet Dalton managed to blend it in with the landscape. He told me he deliberately tried to make it as unobtrusive as possible. All of his hotels centred on a certain set of activities the area was known for, and he wanted his clientele to feel like they were sleeping in the outdoors.
    Which happened to be the main reason I’d taken Dalton up on his offer. There was always something exciting to do around his hotels. There’d been surfing in Cornwall, but the European ones held even more adventurous sports that I hadn’t waited to start trying out. I had a list of activities I wanted to do for every country I planned on visiting, and so far I couldn’t stay away from rafting on the nearby river.
    I was shifting the tables and chairs around outside on the patio when Rose—a waitress who’d worked with me back in Cornwall and moved to France for the summer—tapped me on the shoulder. At five foot six she towered over me. Her legs seemed to stretch on for miles and her stick thin frame and long blonde hair meant she could have been a Victoria’s Secret model. Seriously, she had mastered the perfect pout and used any opportunity to show it off.
    “There’s someone asking for you at reception.” Her harsh Devonshire accent sounded out of place up in the mountains and it still threw me. While I’d known her for two years since she moved to Cornwall, she’d never managed to lose the accent.
    I liked having a friend on site, though. There were only a grand total of nine Brits working in the hotel among a group of about fifty French. It wasn’t that I couldn’t communicate with them, I just gravitated towards Rose as she was familiar. Like me she was a country bumpkin and a great laugh.
    “Luce told me to tell you he’s hot.”
    My thoughts flew to Cole immediately. For the last week he’d never been far from my mind. If I wasn’t wondering when he’d turn up, I worried over the fact he may have never found my note. If I wasn’t doing that, I drove myself insane thinking he might decide to ignore me and never show. Although I sounded sure of myself when I left him, doubt had started to fill me the next day. I mean, who really wanted a stranger sticking their nose into their business? He never asked for my help and I’d been pushy.
    It was crazy, yet I found it impossible to shake him from my mind. He remained a mystery, like a puzzle I wanted to solve.
    “You know exactly who’s there, don’t you?” Rose swatted me with the tea towel she had slung over her shoulder.
    “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I placed the final chair under the table and wiped the glass surface down so it gleamed. Then, returning my equipment to the kitchen, Rose followed, hot on my heels.
    “Come on, Alaya. Spill it. Who is he?”
    “I think some guests are ready to order.” I pointed behind her to a family of four who were searching the room for someone. When Rose peered over her shoulder to tell them she’d be over in a minute I made a break for it.
    Dashing across the room, I slipped out of the exit. I caught a glimpse of Rose’s scowl as the door shut behind me so I hurried even more. No doubt she’d corner me later, but I didn’t feel like filling her in on the details of my train journey. At least not until I was sure Cole was the