by Marie Laval
She opened her mouth to protest. Rework the whole concept? As far as she had been able to see from the magazine photo, the designs, colours, inspiration were hers – all hers.
‘However,’ Nathan carried on, ‘I want to make things right and I have a proposal for you. Maritel has two hotels in the North of England, one in Manchester and another in Leeds – both five star. I am prepared to take you on as a trainee to oversee both refurbishments. It would mean you being involved full-time, so you would have to give up your cleaning business or hire a manager.’
Cassie’s heart skipped a beat. ‘You would take me on? You would really offer me a job?’ She couldn’t help her voice from squeaking with surprise and excitement. Could her dreams be finally about to become reality?
‘On one, non-negotiable condition: you must never tell anyone that the London designs were yours.’ He drew in a breath. ‘I mean, partly yours. I don’t want to risk Maritel cancelling everything, since I have little doubt that the manager of the chain would change his mind if he knew that someone like you had a hand in them.’
‘Someone like me…’
He made a dismissive gesture with his hand. ‘You know what I mean.’ He looked more like the old Nathan now, confident and self-assured – all smooth, velvety dark eyes and sexy smile.
‘If you agree, I’ll have a non-disclosure agreement drawn up before I go back to London and you can start in the New Year. So, what do you say?’
She would be mad to refuse. It was the chance of a lifetime, the chance she had been hoping for. She couldn’t let it slip through her fingers. So what if she didn’t get the credit for the hotel design? After all, she had created good designs once, she could do it again.
She was about to accept when her grandfather’s voice rang in her mind. ‘Never sell yourself cheap, Trifle.’ He had said that when she was fixing her cleaning prices after taking over from her mum and she wanted to give generous discounts to clients.
She took a deep breath and kept her tone calm and cool. ‘Thank you, Nathan. It’s a great offer, but I need to think about it. Can I take a few days to make my mind up?’
He frowned, and annoyance tightened his mouth. ‘You need to think about it?’ Suddenly he relaxed and smiled. ‘Oh, I see. You need time to wind up your little business, tell your clients and your family, and put your sponges, mops and feather dusters in the bin…’
Leaning forward, he put his hand on her arm. ‘I’m here all week. Let me know what you decide by next Saturday…’ He lowered his voice and added, ‘You are a very attractive woman, Cassie. I can’t believe I never realised that before today. I guess that’s because I never saw beyond your rubber gloves and your mop and cleaning spray. I would like it very much if we could go out, and spend some time together this week, so that we can get to know each other better.’
His voice became low and cajoling. ‘And I would like it even more if you wore a pinny like that cute Bluebell fairy painted on your van. What do you think?’ He flashed his sexy smile again.
Nathan found her attractive and hinted at a possible romance between them? She should pinch herself to make sure she wasn’t dreaming, yet it left her indifferent, and even slightly queasy.
She rose to her feet. ‘I think I would look completely ridiculous if I went out wearing a pinny. I need to think about your offer – your work offer, that is. For now it’s getting late, I have things to do, and you probably need to get ready for Alastair’s stag do. I shall see you tomorrow at the wedding.’
As they walked out of the pub, Sadie winked at her from behind the bar and gave her the thumbs up. Cassie had better tell her she had got it all wrong. She had to think hard about Nathan’s work offer, but she had no intention of starting any personal relationship with him.
He was too late. She loved another.
Chapter Thirty
‘I thought you had changed your mind.’ Stefan pulled her into his arms as soon as she put the pizza boxes on the hall table and dropped her overnight bag to the floor. She tilted her face up, and received the full blast of his warm, golden gaze.
She couldn’t wait to tell him about seeing Nathan, about his reluctant acknowledgement that he had indeed used her ideas for his hotel project, and about his surprise job offer… and the mixed feelings it aroused inside her.
‘I had to stop at the cottage to get my bag, and then there was a queue at the pizza place, but guess what happened. I bumped into—’ He didn’t let her finish her sentence but lifted her up and kissed her with an intensity that left her breathless.
When he finally put her down, she knotted her fingers behind his neck, revelling in the feel of his hard, strong body against hers, and the texture of his skin, of his hair under her touch. All the worries and events of the day faded into nothingness. All that mattered was being in Stefan’s arms, and melting into his embrace.
He must have felt the same because he pulled away a little, rested his forehead against hers and whispered. ‘Are you hungry? Because all I want is to take you upstairs and get you out of those clothes—’
She kissed the corner of his mouth. ‘What about the pizzas?’
‘They can be reheated.’
Laughing and kissing, they made their way upstairs, under the stern, disapproving glare of the Ashville portraits lining the wall.
‘Should we try that big four-poster bed?’ Stefan asked as they reached the master bedroom.
She shook her head. ‘I hate that room. It’s dark and gloomy, and it overlooks Wolf Tarn and the abbey.’
She shuddered and her breath caught in her throat, but immediately Stefan encircled her into his arms. ‘You said once that talking made everything better. Perhaps if you tell me what happened here, it will make the ghosts go away.’
She looked into his eyes and stroked his cheek. His beard felt rough and bristly against her touch.
‘You should talk to me about your ghosts too. I can see them lurking in your eyes, sometimes even when you smile.’
He drew in a breath. ‘Perhaps one day. Let’s forget about the past for now.’
It wasn’t hard to forget about everything but his touch, his warmth, the infinitely tender look in his eyes as he slowly peeled her clothes away and led her to bed – and the definitely more dangerous and primitive glow in his eyes as he undressed quickly and stood over her in the manner of a man about to claim his woman, and savouring every second of the conquest.
Would she ever get used to Stefan’s feverish kisses; to the power she had to make him tremble with desire and whisper heated words; to the waves of dark, hot, blinding pleasure he aroused inside her; and the erratic beating of his heart as he pulled her on top of him after having thoroughly loved her?
For the first time she felt the joy and the magic of loving and being loved. She loved him. Loved the way his eyes went from bright to burnished gold. Loved the curve of his lips when he smiled, the sound of his broken voice, and the solid feel of his body against hers. But it was more than that. She loved his strength and vulnerability, and his kindness. She may not know the facts, the details, but it was obvious he was a man who had been hurt, and almost destroyed in terrible events.
What if it was different for him and their lovemaking was just a pleasant but meaningless interlude? He couldn’t stay at Belthorn forever. He hadn’t made any plans or any promises. What would she do when he left and returned to France, or travelled to whichever country the army posted him?
She wouldn’t think about it for now. She nestled closer against him, and stroked his chest, smiling when she heard his breathing quicken and felt his body harden under her touch.
The pizzas were stone cold when they finally made their way downstairs. She had slipped a pair of leggings and one of Stefan’s sweatshirts on, and he was wearing his army jogging pants and a shirt. He went to the drawing room to poke the fire he had made before back to life, and she carried the pizzas to the kitchen.
As she put them into the oven, she made a mental note to write on the
receipt that one of the pizzas was for her and pay it back. Even if Stefan had insisted he repay all the groceries she bought for him, she still had to send detailed receipts to Piers at the end of each week. After the ugly scene at the restaurant, the last thing she needed was for him to accuse her of fraud as well as theft, even if it was only the price of a pizza.
Stefan glanced at her as he walked in. ‘Is there anything wrong? You look preoccupied.’
She shrugged. ‘It’s nothing.’ Mentioning her troubles with Piers would spoil the evening, but it was as if a black cloud had suddenly filled her heart.
‘By the way, how did your meeting go?’ Stefan asked, as if he was reading her mind.
‘It was… all right.’
She looked away immediately, opened the oven and pretended to check on the pizzas. She couldn’t tell him about Piers – about the accusations, the customer complaints, and, most of all, about the horrid scene at the restaurant and the way he had fired her. Guilt and shame churned inside her. She should have told Piers to stop pestering her instead of hoping that he would get the message. He said she led him on, and perhaps he had a point.
‘Are you sure you’re all right?’ Stefan asked from behind her.
She turned round and forced a smile. ‘Yes, of course.’
Frowning as if he didn’t quite believe her, he took a bottle of wine and two glasses out of the cupboard. ‘Shall we eat in the drawing room? I got the fire going again.’
She smiled. ‘Good idea.’
‘Did Kerry like the clubhouse?’ he asked as they sat on the rug in front of the fireplace to eat.
‘She loved it and Alastair too. He even cracked a joke, which is a first.’
‘That’s your grandfather’s influence, no doubt.’
She licked the tomato off her fingers, extended her legs in front of her and leaned back against the sofa. She was about to tell him about Nathan when Stefan spoke.
‘Actually… I met your grandfather in the village today.’
‘Was he all right?’
Was it her imagination or did he hesitate before answering?
‘He was a bit preoccupied.’
Immediately alarm tightened her chest. ‘What was the matter with him? Was he ill?’
‘No. He said his knee was playing up, and he asked me to walk home with him because he wanted to check… ahem… something.’
Why did she have the feeling that he wasn’t telling her everything? ‘There was something else, wasn’t there?’
Stefan sighed and combed his fingers in his hair. ‘I’m sorry, Cassie. I promised him I wouldn’t tell. He said you would only worry for nothing. But I can tell you that I fixed the radiator in the upstairs room.’
‘Oh, I see.’ He had gone to the back room. That’s where the filing cabinet was, where her granddad kept his bank papers.
‘Was my granddad’s preoccupation to do with money, by any chance?’
The look in Stefan’s eyes told her she was right.
She sighed. ‘I’ve been worried about my granddad for a while. He’s been tired, distracted and forgetful for weeks now.’
‘Perhaps he’s just getting old.’ He rose to his feet and held out his hand. ‘Come on. It’s late. Let’s go to bed.’
He had winced as he got up, but as usual, and even though he might be in pain, he didn’t complain. She had seen the scars slashing his chest, his back. Her fingers had stroked their cruel grooves, and her lips left soft, tender kisses along them. Love such as she had never felt before swelled inside her, almost choking her.
Could she tell him how she felt? Or was it too soon?
‘Stefan,’ she said, extending her hand.
He reached out for her and pulled her to his feet. ‘Yes?’
But she couldn’t say the words. Not yet. ‘I’m glad I’m here, with you,’ she said instead.
He cupped her face between his hands and gave her a kiss as light as the caress of a butterfly. In the light of the dying fire, his gaze was so tender her heart ached. ‘So am I, little bluebell. So am I.’
She snuggled against him, her body soft and warm. Her fingers lingered on his chest, and she half-heartedly attempted to tickle him again. She may not succeed in making him squirm and giggle but she aroused a whole host of other sensations. He looked down and smiled. Strands of blonde hair caressed his neck as she now moved to kiss his chest.
She didn’t smile back but held his gaze, her eyes a light, cloudy grey. ‘Tell me about your ghosts and I’ll tell you about mine,’ she said.
His heart grew heavy. ‘Why do you want to know?’
‘Because it makes you sad, and I don’t want you to be sad.’
Would he ever dare tell her about Mali? About the catastrophic failings that had led to so many deaths – his catastrophic failings?
Would it make him feel better? More to the point, did he have the right to feel better? The guilt and nightmares were his purgatory. His punishment.
At the same time, it was dishonest and cowardly to keep that massive chunk of his past from her.
‘Very well.’
He took a moment to gather his thoughts. ‘My regiment was deployed in Mali five years ago. Things went well at first and the situation was under control, but after a couple of years terrorist attacks on civilians increased with suicide bombers blowing themselves up in markets or in the makeshift camps set up by humanitarian organisations like Inter Medics.’
‘Is that where you met Charles Ashville?’
Stefan nodded. ‘We were assigned to the protection of the medical staff and local civilians, and we followed Charlie and his staff around the country, airlifting sick or injured people to the nearest base. Charlie and I became friends.’
He closed his eyes. ‘Last summer my helicopter was targeted by extremists. We were rescuing women and children from a dispensary that had almost been completely destroyed by a mortar attack in the south of the country. We knew that the men responsible were still in the area, waiting to finish the job, but I thought…’ He swallowed hard. ‘I thought I had time to evacuate everybody safely.’
He took a deep breath, almost expecting the foul smells of blood, burning flesh and death. But there was only the lemony scent of Cassie’s skin.
‘I was wrong. The terrorists waited until the last women and children were on board, and then launched a rocket attack as I was taking off.’
He closed his eyes. ‘Charlie and I were the lucky ones, I managed to pull him and two children out of the wreckage, and went back to help the others, but the helicopter burst into flames in front of me.
‘I don’t remember much after that. I was repatriated to the Val de Grâce Hospital in Paris – that’s the military hospital. I’ve been on sick leave ever since.’
He opened his eyes, glad for the young woman’s warmth against him, and for her soothing touch. Could he speak about it – the memories that wrenched his heart, and ripped him apart more than any other? His throat tight, his eyes stinging, he added, ‘There was a little girl. She must have been only seven or eight. She didn’t want to get into the helicopter. She was scared. I told her everything would be all right, so she climbed on board, looked at me and smiled… She was one of the two kids I pulled free of the wreckage.’
‘So you saved them.’
He let out a shaky breath. ‘Neither of them made it. Their injuries were too severe.’
His voice broke, as if it was possible for it to break even further, but he had to carry on. Now he had started, he wanted to tell her everything.
‘I lost someone else that day, someone who was very dear to me. Isa, my co-pilot.’
‘The woman in the photo on your phone.’
He nodded. ‘She was a good friend as well as a colleague. She trusted me. I let her down.’ And this time his voice broke.
‘I’m so sorry,’ Cassie said, rubbing her hand along his arm in a sweet but futile attempt to comfort him. Nothing would ever erase the pain, the guilt, the remorse.
H
e took a deep breath. ‘Her parents, her fiancé hate me, and with good reason. She was supposed to spend Christmas at home with them. It would have been the first in three years. She was a bit like you. She loved Christmas, and she was over the moon when her leave of absence was approved… Now she’s dead, and instead of celebrating her family are going to mourn her.’
He sighed. ‘They’ve been emailing me constantly these past few weeks – with insults and reproaches, no doubt…’
She propped herself up on one elbow to look at him. ‘What do you mean – no doubt? You haven’t read any of their messages?’
He shook his head. ‘I’m a coward, aren’t I? The thing is, they can’t tell me anything I’m not telling myself already, and they can’t hate me any more than I hate myself.’
‘Oh, Stefan!’ She threw her arms around him and buried her face in his chest. ‘Did you have anyone to confide in – your parents, or close friends?’
He took a deep breath. ‘We’ve never talked much, my parents and I. My mother means well but she was relieved when I announced I was going away for a while. As for my dad, he’s ashamed of me and I don’t expect him to welcome me home with open arms.’
‘Ashamed? Why? You only did your best and—’
‘But I didn’t, did I?’ he cut in. ‘I failed, and my father doesn’t deal well with failure. Self-doubt and emotional breakdown never featured in his career path, and shouldn’t have featured in mine. Anyway,’ he carried on, stroking her hair, her shoulders, slowly, lightly, tentatively. Did she still want him now she knew what he’d done? ‘My army days are likely to be over, and I don’t have a clue what I’m going to do.’
Actually, that wasn’t completely true. His meeting with the SAR helicopter pilot and the Mountain Rescue Service team that afternoon had been surprisingly positive, and, even though he hadn’t been able to bring himself to climb into the helicopter, the pilot had stepped down and talked about his own experience in the Royal Navy. It seemed that he had known some gruelling times too and nevertheless managed to pull through. Perhaps there was hope for Stefan and he could still put his skills to good use.
