The liveried bellhop quickly ran to the curb as the elegant gray limousine pulled to a smooth stop in front of the Hilton Diagonal Mar in Barcelona. The man that stepped out exuded an aura of power and confidence. Dressed in a tailored double-breasted suit of dark gray, he gave a nod as the hotel employee retrieved two pieces of matched luggage.
Together they walked inside, but the man's longer legs outstripped the pace of the bellhop. When he reached the front desk, the receptionist touched her hair for a moment and gave him a flirtatious smile.
"Buenos días señor. En qué puedo ayudarle?" Good morning, sir. How may I help you?
"Tengo una reservación," the man replied, in smooth unaccented Spanish, "Ken Tanasugarn."
In an instant, her demeanor transformed into one of pure professionalism. Swiftly she completed the check-in procedure and handed him a key card.
"Top floor, Pasitos Suite. Disfrutar de su estancia, Sr Ken." Enjoy your stay.
"Bien." His indifferent eyes passed over her as he handed his card to the bellhop, and turned to follow him to the bank of elevators located left of the reception desk.
Once the brass doors closed, the other receptionist hurried over to the first, to find out the identity of the handsome man who just entered their hotel.
"He's a business tycoon from Thailand. Boss advised me that he would be arriving today. Very cold man, he doesn't like the staff to be too friendly. I heard someone got fired during his last visit for trying to flirt with him."
"Too bad. Good looking and rich, but who wants a man with a bad attitu…" The words dried up as they watched him walk away, the cut of his slacks tightening with each stride.
As they both watched his retreating back, they sighed in unison.
Ken yawned a little as he loosened his tie. On impulse, he strolled to the wall-to-wall glass windows, slid open the door, and walked onto the balcony. The Mediterranean Sea was a smooth azure expanse connected to land by a thin strip of sand. The groins made a zigzag pattern between blue and brown, with occasional puffs of sea-spray. The sky was still tinged with pink despite the rising sun, and he could see the demarcation where the sea and sky met on the horizon. It was both peaceful and somehow lonely.
He checked his watch. The meeting with the designer was scheduled for dinner time, so he had a few hours to himself, and on impulse, decided to change and check out the nearby area.
Barcelona, with its busy seaports and international airport, is a center of culture and trade in southwestern Europe, as well as an economic powerhouse. Like many major global cities, it is active twenty-four hours a day. But here at Diagonal Mar, life has a much slower pace. This early in the morning, the resort areas were all but deserted, and the businesses that cater to tourist just opening for another day.
Dressed in a gray t-shirt and pleated shorts, Ken stopped for a moment outside the hotel to breathe in the salt-scented air. It had been a while since he had been outside Bangkok, and he relaxed under the warming sun. He turned left from the hotel entrance, away from the International Convention Centre; after all, he would be there tomorrow for the fashion show. Instead, he strolled towards the nearby park.
The Parc de Diagonal Mar was a spectacular wedge of open space in the city, with long concrete benches resembling waves; thick exuberant plantings; and graceful wooden boardwalks. Built on the site of a former smelting plant, it was a cool oasis against the sun's heat. As Ken walked past the twisting sculptures and immense flowerpots, he suddenly heard a female yell for help.
He hurried towards the sounds of struggle, and saw in the distance an older woman on the ground, clinging to a large bag that was being torn out of her hand by a thug in ripped jeans and a dirty brown t-shirt. He ran faster, hoping to get there in time.
Before he reached the struggling pair, a blur with auburn hair delivered a roundhouse kick to the stomach of the punk. He let out a grunt, dropped the bag and turned to this new threat.
"Puta!" he spit out, before pulling out a large knife from a holster at his waist. The young woman stayed just out of reach of his wild swings, balancing on brown leather boots, a half-smile on her face. A stream of insults flowed from her mouth as she insulted the punk, and Ken realized she was Thai.
"Look out!" he bellowed, momentarily distracting her; when she took her eyes off the thug, he lunged at her. She warded off the blow with her left arm, but a line of red rapidly soaked through the sleeve of her white blouse. She spun and delivered a well-practiced elbow to his nose. With a howl, he dropped the knife and fell to his knees, trying to staunch the blood pouring out of his broken nose.
Finally arriving, Ken easily subdued the now-sobbing man; he pushed him onto his chest and held him down with his knee across the shoulder blades. He pulled his phone out of his back pocket and dialed 112; in a low voice, he explained the situation and requested police response.
In the meantime, the young woman helped the older woman up and checked her for injuries. While brushing bits of grass off the woman's dress, her rescuer smiled and nodded, but clearly didn't understand Spanish.
"He could have hurt you, you know. Why did you..." Ken's amused voice faltered as he noticed the red stain on her sleeve. He shifted, intending to go to her, but the pinned man started to struggle, and he had to focus to make sure he didn't escape.
A few moments later, several uniformed officers arrived on scene. "Policia! Qué está pasando aquí?" Immediately, the other woman, with much gesticulation, began to explain the situation. One officer handcuffed the assailant, releasing Ken from his position. Straightaway, he strode over to the young woman. She had pulled back her sleeve to reveal a shallow cut about four centimeters long and slightly oozing.
He grabbed her arm to look more closely at the wound, only to have her pull away. He seized it back. "Be still and let me look."
Roni could only stare at the forehead of the attractive man hunched over her arm. In the flurry of the fight, she didn't even see him arrive, until his yell broke her concentration. She only had a moment to take in his face before the movement of the assailant brought her back to her present surroundings, almost too late to defend the slash to her face. And now she wanted to get a better look at his face.
"Are you Thai?" she asked, a bit unsteadily as the adrenaline wore off. He finally looked up at her, and her breath hitched for a moment. Full eyebrows arched over warm, brown eyes alight with a spark of intelligence, and strong jaw. The mouth quirked up in a crooked smile that somehow softened the perfection of his features. Her legs wobbled even more at his close proximity, and a moment later, he straightened up and led her to a nearby bench, carefully cradling her injured arm.
She felt better once she sat down, and blew out a quick breath before leaning over her lap. Now that the ordeal was over, she felt the need to contact her sister. Sri would have expected a phone call once she landed at El-Prat, but Roni had forgotten to do so once she cleared Customs, the lure of adventure too powerful. And now, hours later, she hadn't made it to the hotel yet, intending to revisit some of the places she went to during her last trip to Barcelona. She hadn't even picked up her rental vehicle yet.
Suddenly she felt something cool and wet pressed against her arm, and looked up to see her would-be rescuer with a wet cloth. The paramedics were standing next to him. Wow, so lost in her thoughts that she had forgotten the man sitting next to her.
"Thank you," she said, wincing a little as the water stung her injury. By now the assailant was gone, dragged out of the park. When the police finished speaking to the victim, she walked over to the couple, still clutching her satchel. She sat on the other side of Roni, patted her uninjured arm and began talking.
"Gracias por venir en me auxilio. Llevo el regalo de cumpleaños de mi nieto en la bolsa y no quería dárselo a un ladron. "Además, eres tan guapa que me gustaría presentarte a mi nieto. Acaba de cumplir 23 años y aún no tiene novia."
Roni was at a loss until she heard a rumble against her ear.
"She is thanking you for saving her life and her handbag. She also says that you are beautiful and offers to take you to meet her grandson. He turned 23 today and doesn't have a girlfriend yet." The latter was delivered with a short laugh that tickled her ear.
"No no," Roni reacted, making a warding gesture. Ken caught her arm before it swung out of reach and reapplied the cloth. "Gracias, no. Hey, khun," she said, now addressing the man beside her. "Can you tell her I have an appointment that I can't break?"
The man chuckled again, and began to translate. It seemed to take longer to explain than she expected, but it must have gone well, as the old woman burst out in a delighted chuckle, patted her arm again, and stood up to leave. Roni stood up as well, and gave her a hug. The woman returned the hug, smiled, and walked away.
Roni glared suspiciously to her right, sure this mysterious rescuer said more than what she requested. His face seemed calm but there was a devious twinkle in his eye. Before she could ask anything, he stood up. "Time to go to the hospital and get checked out." He nodded to the paramedics and stepped back.
She protested. "I'm fine, it's just a scratch." She pulled away from the medics as they attempted to assist her to the nearby stretcher. "And I'm certainly not going in that thing!" The man just smiled and crossed his arms. She mimicked his stance, only to wince again as the wound rubbed the inside of her other arm. His smile slipped and he took a step forward; Roni took a step back away from him and stared him down. Finally, he gave a tiny shrug and turned to the medical crew; after a brief conversation, they started packing up their gear.
Roni relaxed, but it was short-lived.
"I promised them I would take you to the hospital instead."
"You don't have to do that, it's only a small scratch. Besides, I don't even know who you are." She was feeling a bit defensive. Clearly, this man had a misplaced sense of responsibility. She tensed as he reached for the back pocket of his blue shorts, but he only extracted a wallet. Pulling out a business card, he handed it to her.
[Ratsadanupradit "Ken" Tanasugarn, CEO, Phra Kiao Hoteliers, Bangkok, Thailand]
Roni looked over the business card. It appeared to be legitimate, but looking at the casually-dressed man in front of her, it was hard to see him as a hi-so company elite. She tucked the card in the back pocket of her jeans, next to the airport locker key that held her luggage.
"Thank you for your help, Khun Ken, but I'm fine."
He considered this for a moment. "Okay, how about this. We go to the hospital to ensure you don't get an infection from whatever might have been on that knife. Besides, we still have to make a statement at the police station. It's easier to stay together until all that is done."
Roni checked her watch. This could take hours, and she needed to speak with her sister. She looked at her damaged, bloody sleeve and sighed. She glanced up at him and gave a calculating smile. "Can we make a stop at the airport first? I need to retrieve my things." He gave a sharp nod and pointed out the direction to the park's exit.