CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Marco showered quickly, his thoughts returning again and again to Sapphire and her lonely teenage years. It fitted in with the woman he was getting to know – prickly, but fiercely loyal and loving if she was given the chance. His heart went out to her as he pictured the frightened young girl, banished to another country on her own, suddenly expected to toe the line after a childhood of freedom and space.
He understood why she was determined that no one would ever get the better of her; she’d had to fight her corner for so much of her life.
Earlier, he had wanted to promise that as long as he was around he would shield her from the world, wanted to smooth away the hurt that was etched on her face, her soft doe eyes on him, her lips flattening to prevent the tears he saw gathering in her eyes as she recounted her past. But such thoughts were alarming and he resolved to remain the impartial man he should be.
He dressed quickly, reminding himself that his priority was the owner of Hopper, not the pale redhead who looked too much like a Pre-Raphaelite beauty for his own blood pressure. He fixed his cufflinks as he walked into the sitting room and picked up his wallet.
‘Very nice,’ Sapphire approved, standing to join him with a tiny clutch bag under her arm.
Marco saw her anew, dazzled by the change in her looks. He took in the high cheekbones, wide, green eyes and full lips, newly adorned with red lipstick. She looked every inch the sort of woman he normally dated and it was disconcerting to know that underneath all of the veneer of sophistication was the Sapphire he’d mistrusted such a short time ago. He brought up his defence shield, reminding himself once again that she was out of bounds. He gave her a thin smile. ‘We need to go.’
Her ready smile faded at his curt words and he felt a pang of guilt for being sharp – but it was necessary for him to mark the divide between them, and for her to understand that this truce was only temporary.
***
A few heads turned as they entered the restaurant, but Marco was used to being stared at, especially in his home country where the family name was known to all. It took him a moment to realise it was Sapphire they were admiring. She looked striking under the subtle restaurant lighting, her hair piled up into a loose chignon, tendrils curling around her neck to soften the severity of the style. Hair jewels, weaved throughout her curls and sparkled in the light from the chandelier, shooting out tiny rainbows of colour and emphasising her natural auburn highlights. Her red lipstick drew attention to her generous, full lips, which, he was starting to realise, he studied far too intently. Her dress draped softly over her hips and bottom and the split at the front showed her bare, tanned legs as she walked with cool confidence and elegance.
The desire to grab her hand, to claim possession, startled him. He nevertheless took her elbow to escort her to their table. It seemed a sad substitute.
Sapphire, true to form, threw him a puzzled glance and muttered, ‘I can walk unaided, you know,’ as she shook off his hand.
His lips tightened. ‘I’m just being chivalrous,’ he whispered into her ear, adding, ‘Don’t forget our pact tonight – you promised to behave.’ He inhaled her scent as he spoke, suddenly wishing he had the right to catch hold of the curl of hair falling onto her cheek, or plant a proprietorial kiss on her throat.
Once more he earned a pained look for his words, but it seemed to him that she responded to his touch, swaying in towards him as he held on to her elbow. He fought the urge to pull her close to his side, just to see how receptive she would be, hoping his reaction was a simple caveman reaction to a beautiful woman. He prayed the aching need that had assailed him from nowhere would disappear when Sapphire was back to being – well, Sapphire, rather than this different species of woman, who had no similarity to the Sapphire he knew.
While she was here, though, he decided he would appreciate the new Sapphire, until the Cinderella spell, which would return her to the snarky woman he knew so well, wore off.
Tom Edwards was hovering by the bar when they arrived. He was younger than Marco had imagined – probably because of a preconceived idea of British airline owners he had, after meeting the frail Robert Clarke. He held out his hand and Tom Edwards shook it warmly.
Marco quickly turned to introduce Sapphire, who stood unassumingly by his side. Marco recognised the flicker of interest that flashed into the other man’s eyes as he took Sapphire’s hand in his own, studying her with interest.
‘This is Sapphire Montrose,’ Marco said briefly. ‘The Girl Friday of Hot Air Aviation. She can tell you so much more about our airline if you decide to come on board with us. As you know, we are looking for investors to enable Hot Air Aviation to become the company I envisage.’
His spiel died on his lips as the debonair man’s manicured fingers wound around Sapphire’s with far too much ease and confidence. ‘Call me Tom, please,’ he said as he raised his lips to Sapphire’s hand.
Oh, please! Marco thought instantly at the smooth move. He identified one of his own type, wealth and looks giving him an automatic right to be in the top tier of their species, and resented it.
He tried not to be irritated by the flattering moves Mr Edwards was pulling on Sapphire as he willed her to prise her hand away. She didn’t, and Marco’s smile of welcome turned into a rictus of mistrust as a long-buried emotion was unearthed. The first time he’d met the man who became his wife’s lover, the same instinct had kicked in, and the urge to wipe the perfect smile off Tom Edwards’ face surfaced.
He busied himself with ordering drinks as a small part of his mind prayed that Sapphire would be savvy enough to rebuff the man and his obvious charm offensive.
The three sat down companionably enough and the meal progressed easily, conversation remaining light-hearted and vague when it needed to be, business-like when required. Sapphire played her part extremely well, Marco had to admit, and he tried to be solicitous and charming. It was strangely satisfying to behave in such a chivalrous way, even though Sapphire shot him a look, her eyes widening slightly, when he put his hand on top of hers to drive home a point he made. He wondered if the only real point he wanted to make by the gesture, was that Tom Edwards should keep his distance. He was intrigued, though to find that she didn’t pull her hand away from under his, and it was temptingly easy to caress her soft, warm skin underneath his palm.
He was enjoying her company and he knew it would bother him later, but right at that moment he couldn’t care less. He was unable to imagine how he had failed to notice quite how enchanting she could be, and a couple of times almost forgot that they weren’t on a date.
Sapphire’s eyes twinkled when Tom Edwards mentioned that Haggis was on the menu and asked her if she had ever tried it. ‘I haven’t, although I know Marco is dying to try some,’ she purred, throwing Marco a wide smile as she picked up the menu. Then, lowering her voice, ‘Look, Marco, you can have it with mash and swede – are you going to go for it?’ she asked, patting his arm. Her smile was barbed and Marco knew she was paying him back for his play-acting.
‘It’s the finest dish in the land; do try it,’ Tom Edwards pressed, beaming at Marco’s apparent enthusiasm. ‘I’ll be interested to hear what you think.’
‘That would be lovely – great idea, Sapphire.’
Sapphire’s grin was wider than the Cheshire Cat’s. ‘I’ll have the salmon, please.’ She closed the menu with a decisive snap.
Marco had to smile; he probably deserved the haggis, but he insisted on Sapphire trying some and watched closely as her lips puckered around the forkful he offered her. He did it to pay her back, and also to let Tom Edwards know that she was not available – just in case he wasn’t certain.
All in all, Sapphire was rather too attentive to Tom Edwards, Marco felt, and it jarred with him, even though she was of course entitled to flirt with whoever she wanted. He had, indeed, demanded that she act out the role of the perfect hostess, but now that she was doing so, he resented it.
It hadn’t crossed his mind until now that she might have a boyfriend, perhaps because she was so pally with Finbar. He was still pondering this uncomfortable possibility when Mr Edwards said, ‘Do you know Edinburgh well, Sapphire?’
Sapphire tilted her head towards Mr Edwards, giving him all of her attention. ‘I have flown in to the airport many times, but this is the first time I’ve had a chance to visit the city.’
Marco groaned inwardly; he knew exactly where this line of conversation was heading and he determined to cut it dead before Tom Edwards offered to show her the sights. He cleared his throat noisily.
Sapphire glanced at him, her eyes bright.
‘I wonder if you would like to take this opportunity to leave us to our boring financial talk? I know you have no interest in number crunching.’ He tried out a smile, finding it impossible to maintain as Sapphire’s eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly, her red lips tightening.
He knew he’d hit a nerve when a bloom of pink appeared on her cheeks. However, she inclined her head towards him before turning to Tom. ‘I do hope you will forgive me; I have something I need to attend to. It was lovely meeting you.’ She bestowed a wide smile on him and Marco waited for the put-down he felt was inevitable.
Tom Edwards scraped his chair back as he stood up to shake Sapphire’s hand, caressing it as he spoke to her. ‘If ever you are in Edinburgh again, be sure to call me.’ He slid his business card discreetly into her palm before turning back to Marco, who had seen the exchange and was not amused.
Marco tried to catch Sapphire’s eye as she picked up her bag. She straightened and paused, before leaning over the table, so close to Marco’s ear that he thought she was going to kiss him. Instead, she whispered in his ear, ‘I’m going to find a bar, Marco. Enjoy.’ She pressed his arm and sashayed away.
His patience evaporated instantly. He wanted to command that she return or remain in the suite. Surely she wouldn’t go to a pub – especially dressed as she was – this late at night? He stared after her, knowing that he could not demand anything from this independent woman. She had spent her whole life looking out for herself and he wasn’t likely to change her with a few strong words. Dismayed, he watched her glide regally out of the restaurant, noting that once again a few heads turned towards the beautiful woman wearing a red dress.
When there was nothing left to stare at, he turned back to Tom Edwards, whose look was quizzical and penetrating. Marco searched his mind to drum up a neutral conversation; no way was he going to discuss Sapphire with a man who clearly had a vested interest in her status. The evening quickly fell flat without Sapphire, both of the men appearing keen to wrap up the business talk. Both sets of eyes strayed to Sapphire’s empty chair more than once, and Marco was delighted when Tom called time with an easy handshake and the promises Marco was hoping to hear.