Do Not Disturb Read Online Free PDF Page A

lingering looks he got from girls in his class. But by seventeen he was well aware of the effect he had on the opposite sex, and the power it gave him.
    Lucas’s attitude toward women was complicated. Having grown up watching his mother suffer, he felt protective toward most of the girls he slept with. His natural instinct was to like them. But his mother’s example had taught him other things too: namely that women were weak and not necessarily deserving of respect. These two conflicting beliefs, combined with his naturally awesome libido, made Lucas that rarest and yet, to many women, most desirable of males: a benevolent chauvinist pig, the sexual equivalent of a benign dictator.
    Older women in particular found his combination of Latin good looks and macho sexual dynamism irresistible. Lucas made them feel beautiful, because that was truly how he saw them. But he refused to be controlled or tied down in any way.
    Getting one of his wealthy, older lovers to fund his education was never something he consciously planned. And yet, when it happened, he felt quite happy to accept it as no more than his due.
    As the months and years passed at the Britannia, his fantasy of one day owning his own hotel became more detailed and fully formed. His hotel would be the polar opposite of the Britannia: simple lines, an aura not just of luxury but of peace. In his mind he’d planned everything, right down to the linens and the table settings. It even had a name.
    Luxe.
    Not “The Luxe” or “Hotel Luxe.” Just the one word: four letters to symbolize Lucas’s vision. His little piece of heaven on earth.
    He was describing the place to Carla Leon one Sunday afternoon five summers ago, after making love. The latest in his seemingly never-ending stream of Mrs. Robinsons, Lucas likedMrs. Leon because she was adventurous and funny, and because she seemed to know so much about the educated, wider world that he yearned to be a part of. “It sounds incredible, my darling,” she murmured, lying back against the mossy ground of the secluded woodland where he’d taken her. “But you mustn’t underestimate what you’re going to need to make it happen.”
    “You’re talking about money?” said Lucas, sitting up and gazing moodily ahead of him. Why did everything always come down to that in the end?
    “Not just money,” said Carla. “The hotel trade is highly competitive. You need an education.”
    “I’m getting one,” said Lucas proudly. “I’ve told you that.”
    Sitting up herself, gloriously naked, Carla leaned forward and began to stroke his bare back. Sometimes his strength frightened her. His muscles were so taut and bulging they looked like they might be about to erupt through his skin.
    “It won’t be enough,” she said gently. “You need relevant qualifications. An MBA. The place you should really aim for is in Switzerland. The Ecole Hôtelière in Lausanne. EHL. That’s where all the top hoteliers train. Have you heard of it?”
    “Of course,” said Lucas, who hadn’t but was too arrogant to admit it.

    By the end of the week, he knew all there was to know about the school—courses, entry requirements, fees, foreign student visas. Carla was right. Lausanne was exactly where he needed to be. But getting there was going to be a daunting task.
    The night she left with her husband for Madrid, Carla made Lucas a promise: “This time next year, if you’ve succeeded in passing all the international exams you need for entry, I’ll fund your application.”
    He neither thanked her nor questioned her. He simply trusted in her word and set about studying like he never had before, slaving over his books and sleeping with a copy of the EHL prospectus under his pillow, like a holy text. When at last he earned his qualifications, with a month to spare before his year was up, he called her.
    They hadn’t spoken since she’d left the previous summer. But Carla didn’t sound remotely surprised to hear from him.
    “Send