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grandmother had enjoyed her exchange with Marc. But if Alex said yes, she would get to spend the day with Marc Daniels. Away from The Sadler, and away from prying eyes.
    Marc settled it. “If you don’t mind, I’d like that….”
    “Fine,” said Alex. “Now if you would please excuse me?”
    Marc stood. Alex gave her grandmother a brief hug and left. It had been an interesting afternoon. Not a word had been said about Marc’s acting career or Hollywood or even why he was in London. It had been all about Grannie. The man had manners; she’d give him that.
    But still, giving up her day off to shepherd him around Notting Hill was not in her job description.
    She was halfway across the lobby when Marc caught up with her. “I know this is awkward, Alex, but give me two minutes, please.”
    She was tempted to keep going, but one did not, under any circumstances, ignore a valued guest, especially one who attracted a lot of surreptitious attention.
    “What can I help you with, Mr. Daniels?”
    “Oh, for heaven’s sake. Call me Marc or I’ll tell your grandmother on you...just kidding!” He held up his hands before she could sputter a protest.
    “I am not the enemy, Alex. At least, I’m not trying to be. However, if I were, I know who my commanding officer would be.” He smiled down at her. “She disarmed us both, wouldn’t you agree?”
    Alex relented. “She does have a way of teasing out every little bit of information.” She grinned. “I do adore her. And, thank you. She was in top form today.”
    “I honestly had no idea you were related until this afternoon. But, given the way the conversation went, I thought it best not to mention my plans.”
    “Which are?”
    “I intend to stay in London indefinitely. And I want my own place. I’ve lived in too many hotels and rented houses selected for me by someone else.”
    “I can recommend a number of estate agents who specialize in what I believe you are looking for,” Alex said. And she could, easily. Marc Daniels wouldn’t be the first guest who’d decided on a permanent address in London.
    “Thank you, Alex.” said Marc. “Now about Saturday.”
    “What about it?” Alex tried and failed to keep her voice neutral. She liked having him call her by her first name. It sounded…intimate. Stop it, Alex , she warned herself.
    “I could have an urgent meeting with my producer,” Marc suggested, “and have to cancel?”
    “Don’t do that! Grannie would have my head!”
    Marc was staring down at her. ‘If that’s the only reason you agreed to accompany me, then perhaps we’d better not go.”
    She drew her brows together and studied him. Was he insulted or looking for encouragement?
    “I’ll see you here in the lobby at nine-thirty,” she said. “Sharp. And try dressing more like…,” Alex frowned, “…like you did the other day.”
    That terrifyingly wonderful smile lit up his face. “Yes, ma’am.” He gave her a quick salute and left.
    Damn his eyes, and damn the rest of him, thought Alex as she watched him walk away. Just looking at him was enough to want him. And there was no place in her life for casual. She would do her job, escort him to Portobello Road, and make sure he found the perfect flat. Then he would move out of The Sadler, and her life would be her own again.
    Why did the idea suddenly seem a little bleak?
     
    Strolling along Portobello Road with a coffee in his hand and Alex by his side, was the most normal thing Marc had done in ages. Just taking the underground to Notting Hill Gate had given him a sense of new-found freedom. They’d simply blended in with the throng of Saturday shoppers wandering through the market. The slightly ragged hoodie pulled up over his head and the broad sunglasses had done the trick. He was invisible to the crowds. The sheer pleasure of feeling like a regular guy out for the day with a beautiful woman made Marc want to throw his arms around Alex and hug her.
    Even the weather was perfect.