CHAPTER TWENTY
Marco had hired a private aircraft to take them to the Isles of Scilly – for which Sapphire was truly grateful, having looked up on Google how long the journey would take by road and then ferry. She was no stranger to private aircraft, as Mr Clarke owned one, but the difference in opulence was staggering. Marco’s aircraft smelled of fresh flowers, beeswax and expensive perfume, and everything was shiny and polished – including the flawlessly dressed air stewardess who gave her a red-lipped, Julia-Roberts-sized smile as she ushered them into the cabin.
An arrangement of pink and white roses sat on a squat table next to an impressive array of glossy magazines, fanned out to display their titles. Olives and nuts in pretty porcelain bowls were positioned next to each sofa-style seat, making Sapphire wonder if she’d need to grab everything on take-off to save it from sliding to the tail end of the aircraft. In fact, the interior looked more like someone’s sitting room than an aeroplane cabin, apart from the discreet seatbelts and the fire extinguisher and oxygen bottle attached to the wall.
She needn’t have worried about the nibbles tipping up, as the aircraft lifted into the sky so smoothly that she had to peer out of the window to check they were no longer touching the ground. She couldn’t quite believe she was already heading down south when she had done nothing more than climb out of a car that pulled right up to the aircraft. It was incredible. She tried not to gape as she sat down and smoothed out her dress, imagining herself to be a rich heiress or a movie star.
The air stewardess appeared with a laden tray to serve them lunch and Sapphire sat up straight and folded her ankles neatly over each other, as was befitting for someone of her newly elevated status.
Marco glanced up from his phone as the stewardess placed a china teapot on the table next to an array of sandwiches, delicate cakes and tiny fruit tarts.
‘Shall I pour, or leave you to it?’ She directed her question to Sapphire, making her feel significantly more important than the spare part she mostly felt like when she was around Marco. People tended to snap to attention when Marco spoke and it was refreshing to be asked to take control, even though it was only over the pouring of tea.
‘Leave it with me, thank you. Looks delicious.’ She smiled warmly at the stewardess and unfolded her napkin with a flourish.
‘Just press the call button if you need me.’ The stewardess retreated, pulling the door behind her, leaving Sapphire alone with Marco.
She shot him a grin. ‘Now this I could get used to.’
Marco inclined his head. ‘I’m glad it pleases, madam,’ he said gravely. ‘This is the sort of aircraft I’m hoping to make available if my scheme to buy the hotel and others around Europe comes off. Door-to-door luxury will be part of the package.’
‘Wow, you’re going in big time then.’
‘There is no point in doing otherwise,’ Marco replied in a smooth and assured tone.
Sapphire looked at the spread in front of her, lifted up the plate of sandwiches and slid around to where Marco was sitting; there was room for two on the small sofa he’d commandeered. She checked what the choice was before offering the selection to Marco through demurely lowered lashes. ‘Would you like a sandwich, sir, smoked salmon and cream cheese or ham salad?’ She giggled, ruining the effect she had intended, and was gratified to see a genuine smile on Marco’s face.
The whole situation was totally surreal. She didn’t know why, but she felt a bit like Alice in Wonderland at the Mad Hatter’s tea party. ‘If only I had sleek blonde hair, it would be perfect,’ she said, half to herself.
Marco glanced over at her. ‘The sun is playing with your hair right now, highlighting the gold and bronze streaks; you have no need for yellow hair.’ He took two of the sandwiches, put them on his side plate and reached over for his copy of The Times.
Sapphire blinked in surprise at his observation, and absent-mindedly tugged at a lock of the hair that she had always resolutely thought of as ginger. She nibbled on a ham sandwich, glancing surreptitiously at Marco, whose sunglasses were perched on his head, making him look cooler than ever. She smiled gently as she watched him frown over the newspaper, feeling strangely protective of him, or did she just feel closer to him, flying together as they were in a narrow tube in the sky.
The stewardess seemed to think she was his girlfriend and she didn’t dissuade her of the idea. She sighed. If only. Thinking in such a way would not do her any good, though, so instead she poured out the tea, earning a nod of thanks from Marco as she added milk. Still he kept his nose in the newspaper and Sapphire felt her euphoria dissipate. She tapped her fingers on the arm of the chair and made a pretence of flicking through the magazines, but she really couldn’t concentrate.
If Marco wasn’t going to talk to her she could use the free time sketching, she thought, if only he knew about her closely guarded hobby. Her pastels were never far from her side and it seemed so wasteful – missing out on this chance to draw the light refracting off the aircraft wing, clearly visible from the small window.
Marco glanced up at her occasionally and she noticed that he hadn’t yet turned a page on his newspaper. He was either very engrossed in an article or he wasn’t actually reading it.
His left leg began to bounce up and down rapidly, a repetitive tick that she’d noticed before. For some reason the air between them seemed over-charged, as if a thunderstorm was on its way. Marco glanced across at her and then down again, staring at his newspaper. She would bet a million pounds he wasn’t reading it. So, what was he thinking?
‘Marco?’ She didn't have anything to say, so wasn’t sure what had made her say his name out loud.
‘Sapphire?’ He looked up from his newspaper and across at Sapphire. ‘You are sitting extremely close to me and I find it quite unnerving.’
She balked. ‘Am I that offensive?’
‘No … it’s not that, at all.’ His leg was bouncing away ten to the dozen and she focussed on it, rather than concentrating on his eyes which were directed at her, and seemed to be a darker hue than normal, the flintiness overriding the soft grey.
She shifted position, offended, tried to shuffle further down the sofa, but it was a very small sofa and she was soon at the edge, having managed to move no more than a few inches. Marco put his hand on her knee to stop her when she made to rise, intending to sit on one of the single chairs.
‘No, don’t move, I like it.’ He swallowed. ‘Sapphire?’
‘Yes, Marco?’ Her heart rate picked up speed as she directed her gaze at him.
‘I feel that I have not been perfectly honest with you.’ He folded the newspaper and set it on the table. Then he took hold of her hand.
A breath hitched in her throat at his touch, which caused a current of molten lava to zip through her body and heat up her insides. ‘Why is that, then?’ She prayed her face wasn’t giving her emotions away. Cool, calm and composed was the way forward.
‘Because I, err … I particularly wanted you to be the person I took on this trip.’ Marco, for once, sounded a little sheepish.
‘You already told me that,’ she said in confusion, realising as soon as the words were out, that they might be talking at cross-purposes. His words unnerved her almost as much as the fact that he was holding her hand. She glanced down to check she hadn’t imagined it. Yes, their fingers were indeed entwined. She waited, feeling totally out of her depth.
He leaned in closer to Sapphire; his body radiating heat and pheromones or whatever it was that made her lose all sense of perspective. She could see the cute mole on his upper lip again, which meant that if she was close enough to see it, he was close enough to kiss her. His eyes were gentle as he gazed at her, his irises changing from the steely grey to a softer, smoky colour. He was going to kiss her, she knew it. But he pulled back at the last minute and said, ‘You know that I’m separated, don’t you?’
‘From your wife?’ This was not a conversation she’d expected.
He heaved out a breath. ‘Yes.’
‘Yes, I believe Finbar’s brought me up to speed on your love life.’
‘Ah. Finbar and his quirky slant on things. I fear his observations might not be entirely factual.’
‘Won’t they?’
He sighed and let go of her hand. ‘I was forgetting about Finbar.’ He picked up the newspaper once more, gave it a shake and studied it.
She fell quiet, her hand pressed to her chest while she waited for her heartbeat, which she was sure could be heard over the hum of the aircraft engine, to quieten down. Confused, she watched Marco through half-closed eyes, resting her head against the bulkhead, the heat from the sun’s rays warming her face and arms. Marco seemed uneasy, and this new agitated Marco alarmed her. It looked, however, as if the conversation, whatever it had been, was closed.
Watching the sky turn from bright blue to a more thunderous grey as they glided through the air, she felt herself nodding off, when a sudden rumble of thunder jolted her wide awake. The aircraft lurched and shuddered and she clutched at the seat instinctively, swearing softly as the plane righted itself. Within seconds she remembered where she was, but still her heart thudded.
Marco’s arm was instantly around her shoulder as he pulled her tight to his chest. ‘It’s okay, it’s just turbulence,’ he said.
She impulsively clutched at his hand and he engulfed it in his. ‘I know. It’s fine – I was just confused.’ She allowed him to hold her tight as her heart slowed down, swallowing as she took in this new scenario, of Marco stroking her hair and massaging the back of her hand with his thumb.
‘Right – as long as you’re not scared.’ He peered into her eyes, cupping her cheek in the palm of his hand.
‘I’m an air stewardess, Marco, I’m used to it, I was just dozing and disorientated.’ She leaned her cheek into his palm, however, enjoying the cool sensation of his skin on hers.
‘That’s okay then.’ His gaze was steady and for a moment their eyes locked. ‘Sapphire, I –’
‘Nothing to worry about,’ chimed the stewardess as she strode breezily into the cabin, smiling reassuringly. ‘We’re just going through the clouds and the weather’s a bit sticky – at least that’s how Captain Turner described it.’ She busied herself with crockery and utensils on the low table. ‘Are we all done here? Only we’ll be landing in about fifteen minutes.’
‘Yes, it was lovely, thank you,’ Sapphire said. She turned to Marco, who had slid away from her as if she was a live firework. ‘Landing in fifteen minutes? I must have slept for ages.’
‘You did. I hope you didn’t mind me not waking you, but I figured you must need the rest.’
‘Thank you.’ She prayed she hadn’t dribbled or snored. ‘I’ll just nip into the bathroom and freshen up.’
Sapphire returned from the bathroom with fresh make-up on and a clean-tasting mouth. ‘Even the bathroom is posher than posh,’ she said, pointing to the bathroom door. ‘There’s a freaking shower in there.’ Marco laughed and she joined in, enjoying the warm glow it gave her.
She sat down again and fastened her seatbelt. The sky was now a block of grey, interspersed with fierce black clouds that buffeted the aircraft, making Sapphire feel queasy and not just a little apprehensive. Marco was quiet and she wondered what he had been about to say earlier, before the stewardess had interrupted him.
‘So, would I get to be a hostie on this new aircraft if the deal goes ahead?’ she said, blurting out the first thing that popped into her mind to break the silence.
She suddenly wished she hadn’t reminded him of her employee status, but Marco put down his newspaper and smiled indulgently. ‘Hostie? I’ve not heard that word before.’ The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled and she wanted to reach out and trace the tiny lines.
‘Why are you smiling?’ he asked.
‘Because you’re smiling and it’s a good thing to see.’
‘I’m sorry I don’t smile enough for you. I confess, I’ve not had much to smile about this past year.’
Sapphire shrugged. ‘I thought it was just something about me that made you grumpy.’
Her words hung in the air for a moment and Marco considered her for so long that she felt a faint blush tint her cheeks. His jaw tightened and a shadow crossed over his face. Finally, he spoke. ‘If you want to fly on our new aircraft, I imagine you will stand as much chance as anyone. Are you used to flying on your own?’
Sapphire was confused. What had caused his mood to change so rapidly? ‘I’m used to being on my own,’ she replied, more truthfully than she’d intended. ‘Does that count?’
The captain’s voice rang out over the PA system. ‘Five minutes to landing; please take your seats.’ Marco didn’t take his eyes off her. His stare was unnerving and made her feel as if he was trying to search her mind for an answer to a question he hadn’t asked.
The stewardess popped in to ensure they were buckled up, and he appeared to come back to earth. She realised that he wasn’t so much staring at her, as mulling over what she’d said.
‘We’ll talk about this later,’ he said, giving her a tight nod. Sapphire wished she hadn’t asked the question, which seemed to have taken on an enormity it didn’t warrant.
The aircraft landed smoothly despite the storm and the stewardess pushed open the passenger door, inviting them to disembark. A gust of wind and squally rain hit Sapphire in the face as she ran down the steps, making her gasp. She hurried towards a waiting Mercedes, making a grab for her hair as the wind blew it upwards. ‘What is it with us and the weather?’ she shouted as Marco followed her, shielding his laptop bag from the rain.
‘What is it with us, full stop?’ he muttered as he tipped the baggage man generously and stowed their bags in the boot of the car.
The hire car was waiting for them at the other side of the airport and Sapphire’s nerves kicked in as Marco opened the doors and loaded the luggage into the boot.
They were entirely alone, with just the swish of the windscreen wipers and the pattering of rain on the roof. Sapphire couldn’t think of a thing to say as they drove, her mind on a loop of what ifs. What if they had the same set-up as in Edinburgh? What if he realised she was of no use to him at all at Hot Air Aviation and she found herself out of a job? What if they kissed again? She touched her lips, glancing guiltily at Marco in case he’d spotted the action and guessed where her thoughts were.
Marco’s phone beeped and he glanced at the dashboard. ‘Damn, I was forgetting my phone isn’t connected to this car. See who it is, will you?’
He pulled his phone out from his inside pocket and passed it to Sapphire. She raised her eyebrows in surprise, but took it from him to check the screen. ‘Heron Airways?’ She sighed in relief, acknowledging that she’d dreaded it being one of the many women Finbar had talked about.
‘It’s the airline we came over on.’
‘Okay, I’ll take it, shall I?’ She spoke into the phone and clutched at it awkwardly when she finished the call, not knowing where to put it.
Marco gave her a tight smile and took it from her. His fingers brushed hers and she felt the familiar jolt of electricity shoot up her arm and straight to her heart.
‘They’re closing the airport?’ Marco asked unnecessarily, having listened to the telephone conversation.
‘So it seems. I suppose, looking at the weather, we should have realised how low-lying the cloud base had become. At least we managed to get here, though, rather than circling for ages and returning to base as I’ve done on too many occasions.’
‘That’s one of the main reasons for upgrading our aircraft. The Scillies’ weather is frequently temperamental and my guests will not appreciate delays.’
‘And once you are here, you might not want to leave,’ Sapphire said, as she looked out of the window, spotting trees that had bent to the whims of the wind, golden sand, and a turbulent, yet clear rolling sea.
Marco threw her an enigmatic smile. ‘That’s what I’m hoping.’ His eyes twinkled and already he looked like a different man, as if the troubles of his business life had been shucked off. He lifted his hand as though to pat her on the knee, but replaced it on the steering wheel, presumably thinking better of it. Sapphire caught the movement and a nervous thrill ran through her body. Were those words meant for her?
***
Before too long Marco pulled up outside a cottage covered in whitewashed cobblestone and double doors facing the sea. He retrieved the keys from under a stone, hefted open the stiff front door and moved aside for Sapphire to enter, picking up their bags as he followed behind.
‘We’re staying here? Wow, it’s gorgeous.’ Sapphire turned full circle in the kitchen, taking in the inglenook fireplace set with logs and a welcome basket on the granite worktop. The kitchen cupboards were in a traditional oak, and a dark blue Aga sat squat against the wall. Sapphire ran her fingers over the enamel lids. ‘Ooh, it’s hot,’ she exclaimed.
‘Just as well, given the weather outside; it probably heats the water.’ He watched her closely, wanting her to be pleased. She twirled around checking out the sitting room, a puzzled frown on her face. ‘It’s perfect, but why are we staying here? I thought we’d come to check out a hotel.’
‘We have. I just don’t want the owner of the hotel to know I am checking it out, before I meet him. If it is entirely unsuitable, then I have an opt-out speech prepared,’ he explained, as another twinge of self-doubt assailed him. In reality he had seen the cottage advertised in a magazine and couldn’t resist the idea of a bit of peace, loving the thought of balmy weather, walking along the beach and drinking local beer in rustic pubs. Sapphire was casually thrown into the mix, although he could, of course, just as easily have left her out of it.
No, she couldn’t, he realised, wondering why he’d been kidding himself. It had been too long since he’d wanted to spend time with a woman for her own sake rather than simply to show his face on the social circuit, a stiff smile fixed in place as he posed for the cameras. He was tired of feeling lonely in a crowded room, never knowing who was to be trusted and who just wanted a share of the limelight and maybe his money. Sapphire pulled no punches and stood up to him; it was a good feeling.
When she’d accused him, on the aircraft, of being grumpy he had had a moment of clarity. He realised he’d tried to keep her at arm’s length, to push her away, because in truth he wanted more than a working relationship. He could finally admit it to himself; the question was, could he admit it to Sapphire? He glanced over at her now, appreciating the sunny smile that warmed his heart.
‘Let’s check out the welcome basket,’ Sapphire said, her excitement infectious. She lifted the cloth that covered the basket and peered at the contents, pulling out scones and a pot of jam along with some tea bags.
Marco picked up a squidgy damp packet, holding it aloft to read the label. ‘Samphire? I don’t think I’ve ever tried that.’
‘Hmm, I think it’s a bit like asparagus.’ She sniffed it. ‘Doesn’t smell of anything in particular,’ she said, before putting it back in the basket where it would stay, if she had her way. ‘We don’t have to go to the hotel yet, do we?’ she asked, opening cupboard doors and nosing inside them. ‘We could buy some food and eat here tonight, I’m not sure I’m geared up to play my part as the bountiful guest, just yet.’
He nodded. ‘Good idea, although I think we might have to google what to do with the samphire.’ He filled the kettle with water and placed it on the hob. ‘My grandmother used to have one of these,’ he reminisced, patting the huge range oven.
‘Great, I’ll leave the cooking to you.’
‘You might be surprised. In fact, tonight, I’ll cook dinner.’
Sapphire raised her eyebrows. ‘It’s a deal. I’ll bring the wine.’
Marco lifted a bottle out of the basket and studied the label. ‘No need. St Martin’s home-grown wine, and you don’t drink, remember.’ He waved the bottle at her before setting it down on the worktop.
‘Actually, I was joking about bringing the wine.’ Her scowl was back in place and Marco was annoyed that he’d caused it. He sighed as he opened the fridge and placed the wine in the door, lifting out the milk at the same time. He’d seen no sign of her drinking since they’d met again apart from the one time on the aeroplane and he’d almost forgotten that he’d been convinced she was an alcoholic.
He watched Sapphire as she moved over to the bay window and gazed at the sea as it foamed into waves and churned up the pebbles. The rain rattled against the old bay window like an assault of bullets and a thin wind whistled between the frames. It was rugged and beautifully secluded. She folded her arms and Marco saw that she was withdrawn and looked vaguely unhappy again.
Marco moved to stand next to her on the pretext of looking at the sky. ‘Maybe we could go for a walk along the beach in a little while.’ He only now acknowledged that he’d fantasised about walking along the sea front with Sapphire. It had become his focus and would symbolise that they were comfortable together, although in his fantasy his arm was slung around her shoulders and she was laughing up at him, her eyes full of love as he teased her.
‘It is beautiful here, isn’t it?’ He was already envisioning the idyllic walks and lazy breakfasts they would share and it made him feel alive once more.
‘It is,’ Sapphire agreed, her voice wavering, her folded arms tightening around her chest protectively.
Something wrong?’ he asked, praying that his probing wouldn’t start another argument.
‘This is all wrong, Marco. We shouldn’t be here together and I’m wondering why we are. I am staying in a cottage by the sea with the very man who can control a large part of my life and I am hoping that isn’t what he has in mind.’
He frowned at her candid words. ‘Are you questioning my motives?’
‘I think I might be.’ She turned to face him. ‘Marco, I need to be straight with you. I spend most of my time worrying that everything I do is wrong when I’m around you; I constantly doubt myself and feel that I’m being judged. I used to have confidence. Yes, it was a brash type of confidence, born of necessity, but sink or swim became my motto – and when I thought that sinking was the more likely outcome, I’d make a bloody life-raft.’ She shrugged before meeting his gaze, unblinking. ‘I think you would sack me in the blink of an eye if it suited you. Can you imagine how stressful that is for me?’
Marco recoiled, stung at her words. ‘If I was going to sack you, you certainly wouldn’t be here today.’
‘I don’t know why I am here, to be honest – for all I know, you’re evaluating whether my personality outweighs my usefulness, right now.’ She stopped and thought for a second, pursing her lips. ‘Are you testing me?’
‘Not at all.’ He raised his hands, floundering for a decent enough reason as to why they were there. ‘I can’t always do what I want as the slightest whiff of scandal will affect the stock value of my businesses, so I thought somewhere remote like this might be good for us. I have to think of my shareholders at all times.’
‘Your poor shareholders. Please forgive me if I don’t feel particularly bothered by them.’
‘That’s not what I mean.’ He put his fingers to his forehead and worried at the frown between his eyes. How had the conversation taken this turn when he was just about to declare his good intentions towards her?
‘Then, why do you want me near you, when I’m clearly a liability. Imagine the scandal, Signor Cavarelli, if this got out.’ She couldn’t resist the sting in her voice.
‘I’m sure you’ll be on your best behaviour, Sapphire.’
‘I’ll contain my urges, if that’s what you’re worried about. There won’t be a re-run of Florence, I promise.’
‘Sapphire, don’t do this. Please don’t try to turn this into something it’s not.’
‘So, why am I here? I get it, okay, you’re my boss and I have to do what you ask, I know that – you shove it down my neck all the time – but sometimes … sometimes you give out mixed messages and it’s so very confusing.’
‘I need to be careful in my position, Sapphire.’
‘What position is that then? Lying horizontally with a rich daddy’s girl so that you don’t let the side down?’ She glared at him, stepping backwards towards the table as if she couldn’t bear to be near him.
Marco recoiled from her words, balling his fists to contain his anger. ‘That was uncalled for and crass. Is that what you think, that I’m just biding my time until the right socialite comes along? How can you think I’m that shallow?’
‘I don’t … think about you, at all,’ Sapphire almost shouted, slamming her hands down on the kitchen table.
‘Okay.’ Marco was calm and measured as he took the kettle off the boil and pushed the mugs to the back of the counter. This wasn’t going quite the way he’d planned, which unsettled him as he was used to being in control. ‘Why don’t we go for a walk along the beach and enjoy the evening? We can collect a few ingredients from the local shop and I’ll cook dinner when we’re not so agitated.’
‘We?’ She almost screeched. ‘We are not bloody agitated.’ She rounded on him, her voice rising higher. ‘Just me, okay? You are my boss and that’s fine – just stop with the soft words and kind glances, making me lose track of what the hell I’m thinking, let alone what you are thinking about me – you and your stupid smouldering eyes and your crappy oh-so-sexy accent. I’m sick of it.’ She grabbed her cardigan, which she’d taken off only minutes before, pushed her arms into it and grappled with the French windows, heaving them open. ‘I’m going for a walk. On my own, if that’s allowed – or should I write you a memo and make sure I get it signed off first?’ She marched through the door and out onto the shingle, hitting the beach at speed.
Marco watched as she stormed off, her back straight and determined, her long strides revealing her fury with him. A hint of a smile played over his lips despite his dismay that the conversation had deteriorated so quickly. Smouldering eyes and sexy accent, eh?
He stopped smiling as he watched her pick her way over the sand, faltering and zigzagging in places, where he guessed large rock pools stopped her in her tracks. Occasionally she put her hand up to her eyes and he wondered if she was crying, until eventually her outline blurred into the background, drizzle and mist turning her into an amorphous figure on the horizon.
He was inclined to leave her to it until she’d calmed down, but was worried that she would not know how to find the cottage on her return as she had no idea of the address.
He sighed. He had to bring her back even though didn’t know how to deal with her. He grabbed his coat and slammed the French doors behind him.
It was time they had a proper talk.