CHAPTER NINE
Marco strode along the corridor, reluctantly readjusting his opinions of Sapphire. Maybe she wasn’t just a lacklustre member of staff who needed to shape up or ship out. He was struggling to place her all over again – wanting to dislike everything she stood for, but unable to shake off the strange feeling that assailed him when he’d touched her cheek. He knew he would have to remain professional throughout, but admitted to himself that he was at a disadvantage to start with; not every boss would get to know their new employee semi-naked in a hotel room.
He trailed behind her and, although he didn’t want to look, couldn’t miss her shapely legs, sheathed in tight jeans. His gaze drifted to her perfectly rounded bottom, peeping out from under her shirt, which swished tantalisingly as she sashayed along the corridor. It sent his mind into an unwanted train of thought that he quickly brought under control. He was her boss and there was no room for a woman like her in his life.
They reached the boardroom, the only room big enough to hold all the staff at one time. Sapphire dumped Annie in a corner and set about moving chairs, sorting out test papers and tip sheets, and piling up her treats in big wooden bowls for the staff to take whenever they wanted.
Marco was intrigued by her enthusiasm. ‘Why are you trying so hard over this? What are these sweets for?’ He couldn’t get that she cared enough to make a tedious day interesting.
She frowned at his question. ‘I’m a qualified first aider and it’s part of my job.’
‘No, I mean, this.’ He pointed at the bowls of sweets and lollipops, bewildered. ‘Everyone has to attend today regardless; you don’t have to entice them.’
Her brow creased. ‘It can also be a fun day that makes us a skilled team, capable of pulling together if the need arises. And actually …’ She unwrapped a purple lollipop and slipped it into her mouth ‘… sucking lollies is good fun. Very therapeutic; you should try it.’
He shook his head as she held out a lollipop, his eyes fixed on her mouth, watching her pink tongue flick over the sugary confection while his brain tried to understand. Okay, he knew she was messing with him, but he was grudgingly impressed by her work tactics.
He normally thought about his employees as statistics and pay cheques, their productivity and suitability being the deciding factor in whether they stayed or went. This touchy-feely let’s all have fun idea was alien to him and doubts stirred in his mind that he might have it wrong. He felt her eyes on him and banished his thoughts. Indecision was not a word he acknowledged.
‘If you want to help, put Annie on her back and get the wipes out and leave them by her head. People are jittery when it comes to sharing saliva – though you wouldn’t know it if you went to a few of the nightclubs I’ve been dragged to.’
‘You don’t like nightclubs?’
She twitched her nose. ‘Err, no, do I look like a clubber?’
‘No, you don’t.’ He adjusted his opinions again. What about the drinking and the propositioning men in hotels? He narrowed his eyes, as if she had been pulling the wool over them on purpose.
‘You’re doing it again. Stop it.’
‘Doing what again?’
‘Looking like you’re trying to work out if I’m vegetable, mineral or animal.’
‘I’m not.’
‘Yes, you are. It’s like you’re doing this.’ She thrust her face close to his and peered at him fixedly to prove the point.
Marco could almost touch her nose with his. He smiled; it was a cute nose.
She spun away from him. ‘And you’re always giving me that supercilious smile.’
He nodded acceptance, unwilling to start an argument. He’d been accused of many things, but being supercilious was a new one on him. Fair enough, though, if that’s what she thought.
‘Morning, ladies and gents.’ A high-pitched squeal pierced the room and a flash of pink and black cut across Marco’s vision. Finbar waltzed in, wearing a pink cable-knit jumper and purple skinny jeans, surpassing anyone’s worst fashion nightmare. His hair was jet black at the roots and peaked to a blond point at the top with a heavy fringe pulled over to one side to reveal a large hooped earring in his right ear. Marco flinched as he took in this antithesis of style in his eyes; the man standing in front of him totally violated his own carefully nurtured fashion sense.
‘Fin, hiya, glad you’re early.’ Sapphire looked him up and down approvingly. ‘You certainly made the most of dressing-down day.’
‘That is not dressing down, that is dressing up.’ Marco recognised the steward from his earlier flight – although it was hard to be sure with all that garish make-up plastered on his face. He fought back the urge to order the man home until he had learnt how to dress like a grown up, annoyed that Sapphire approved of his outlandish attire.
Sapphire ignored Marco’s comment. ‘Will you sort out the laptop for me, Fin? I’ve got a really good clip of an aircraft crash in the Rockies, showing how they coped with the injuries using the limited equipment they had on board. Actually, would you mind working it for me, I’m useless with PowerPoint?’ She blew him a kiss. ‘Thanks, honey.’
Finbar pouted and returned the air kiss. ‘Don’t worry, we’ll sort it out – we always do.’ He threw a look at Marco, who wasn’t sure, but thought it was possibly smugness. He didn’t like the way Finbar laid claim to Sapphire’s friendship and he had a ridiculous urge to outmanoeuvre him – as if he wasn’t already outmanoeuvred; Marco employed him, for God’s sake.
He noticed an adoring look from Sapphire to Finbar and suppressed a childish impulse to declare that he could work a laptop as well as any man. Another thought popped into his head. ‘Are you Mr Clarke’s nephew?’
‘Yes.’ Finbar beamed.
‘Ah, we can credit you with the name of this wonderful airline, I believe?’
‘Hot Air Aviation? Fab, isn’t it?’ Finbar grinned from ear to ear as he flicked his fringe out of his kohl-ringed eyes and pursed his, suspiciously pink and dewy, lips.
‘Fab indeed.’ Marco replied, realising with a sinking heart that he would never be able to criticise or reprimand this ridiculous young man who clearly took everything too far. Trying to stay focused he grabbed one of Sapphire’s circular lollies, tore off the wrapper and sucked at it savagely. Slowly the outrageous sweetness and fruity taste took him back to days he couldn’t quite pinpoint, but knew had been blissful. His frayed nerves were soothed and he smiled at the novel idea that this young woman had once again been right. A lollipop full of sugar and flavouring had done the job that therapists, charging an extortionate rate, had never managed to achieve. Even if it was transient, the world looked a better place within a few short minutes as he welcomed pilots, engineers and cabin staff into the room.
Sapphire rapped on the table for attention. ‘Okay, for anyone here who has somehow missed Finbar’s monthly newsletter with images of Mr Marco Cavarelli splashed all over it, this is our new MD. He will be joining us today for our annual first-aid course and is looking forward to chatting to you all. I hope he will leave this room a more knowledgeable man.’ She threw him a glance loaded with meaning.
‘Mr Cavarelli, these fine people here are the crème de la crème of the aviation business and I hope that in time you will be as proud of them as I am.’
Marco stood up and bowed slightly, impressed with her introduction. It was beginning to look as if he’d got someone rather special working for him. ‘I’m looking forward to getting to know you all and hope you will continue to enjoy being part of the revamped, erm, Hot Air Aviation.’ Once again he stalled over the name of the airline, his mouth forming a moue of distaste.
He heard Sapphire stifle a giggle and threw her an amused look, before turning back to his employees. ‘And, please, call me Marco.’ He threw his hands wide in a welcoming gesture. ‘That includes you too, Miss Montrose,’ he said as an aside to her.
‘Then I suppose you will have to call me Sapphire.’
He nodded. ‘A very pretty name, if I may say so.’
She smiled tightly and he wasn’t sure if he’d done the right thing by being so casual, but it was a small airline and being high-handed wouldn’t do him any favours. He perched on a desk and folded his arms, preparing to be entertained. He thought that Sapphire seemed the epitome of composure, and the slight nerves he perceived beneath the surface made this outward appearance even more attractive. He liked her hair loose and a bit wild, he decided, and the ice-blue shirt complemented her auburn colouring beautifully.
She beamed. ‘Right then, team…’ A mobile started to trill and Sapphire held up her hand. ‘Mobiles off – c’mon, gang, you know the drill.’
Marco took out his phone and glanced at the screen. ‘I’ll take this outside.’ He gave Sapphire a sardonic smile and made for the door.
Sapphire looked flustered. ‘Sorry, I didn’t know it was your phone.’ She coloured up and he felt a bit mean, but he wasn’t used to being told what to do. Besides, he was a busy man – he couldn’t afford to miss phone calls.
‘No worries, I won’t be a moment.’ He strode to the door and Sapphire watched him leave, feeling wrong-footed.
She turned back to the expectant staff. ‘Okay then, bandages are as good a place as any to start, I suppose. We’ll give ourselves half an hour to tie each other up, yeah?’
‘We do like a bit of bondage, don’t we?’ Finbar said, winking at her. She gave him a grateful smile as she slung a wodge of bandages diagonally across the tables, noticing Marco slide back into the room. ‘I know it’s a bit boring and we’ve done it many times, but I have to tick the boxes to prove it, so take a partner and let’s get cracking with those girl-guide knots.’
Marco looked around the room and Sapphire felt his gaze settle on her. ‘Sapphire,’ he said, flicking his fingers toward her. ‘You can pair with me.’
‘I don’t need to, Marco, I’m qualified.’
‘That may be so. I, however, am not.’
‘And we’ve already established that you don’t need to be here.’
‘Humour me. Please.’ He couldn’t help the sarcasm in his voice, but for heaven’s sake, he was a director – he part-owned the bloody airline, he shouldn’t have to ask permission. He noted her reluctance and wished he had time to analyse it, but he wasn’t going to hang about. He opened one of the triangular bandages and snapped it, a persuasive grin on his face. ‘Go on, you know you want to.’
She rolled her eyes and tutted as she held out her arm to be bandaged.
He unfolded the large bandage. ‘So, it’s corner to elbow and keep the arm elevated, yes?’
She nodded.
‘Then come closer – I cannot bandage fresh air.’
She edged towards him. She really didn’t want to be so close, didn’t want his scent lingering on her body afterwards, didn’t want another close-up of his face with the adorable mole gracing the top lip.
She admitted to herself that she liked the way he looked, that was for sure, although she was having difficulty trying to understand why he seemed to gravitate towards her, when he could so easily avoid her. Was he testing her in some bizarre way, or trying to prove that her, so-called weaknesses could erupt at any given time.
She saw the determination in his eyes as he unfolded the bandage. He was a man who did nothing by halves and he had more power over her than anyone else in the world right at that moment, so she had no choice but to do as he asked.
‘So, you put the bandage under your arm, the point to your elbow, like so?’ He slid the bandage under her elbow before looking at her for reassurance.
‘Yes.’ The word came out breathily and she cursed and straightened her spine, determined to get through this ordeal without giving anything away.
He elevated her arm. His touch, soft and warm, was unnerving, his fingertips a silken caress on her skin. She tried to speak, but her voice caught in her throat and it came out like a whimper.
‘Did I hurt you?’
‘No.’ She coughed to mask the audible moan. ‘I’m just reminding you that I have a broken arm.’
‘I’ll be gentle,’ he whispered, a hint of a smile crossing his face. ‘So, the next move is to secure the bandage with a knot by the collarbone, yes?’ His breath was warm, close to her ear, his all-too-familiar scent intoxicating, his voice soft and low. ‘Just so?’
She shivered as he lifted her hair gently from her neck and whispered, ‘Bei capelli.’
She understood a smattering of Italian and blinked. I have beautiful hair? Her senses heightened to full alert as he blew a loose strand away from her neck. A Sirocco wind blasting hot, dry sand would have been easier to bear – and if she had been the sort of girl to swoon, she would be flat out.
He ran his finger down the side of her neck, stopping in a natural hollow where her shoulder sloped. His thumb skimmed across the clavicle, setting her senses on red alert. Surely he knew what he was doing to her?
‘And you tie a knot … just here,’ he crooned, his breath tickling her ear, the mundane words sounding like a declaration of love.
‘Yes, very good,’ she managed, her voice strangling in her throat.
His lips twisted with concentration as he examined the sling, tested the strength of the knot. His fingers brushed hers as he slid his hand down the length of the triangular bandage to where her fingers peeped out.
Sapphire’s nerve endings tingled all the way up her arm and she stiffened, not wanting Marco to see how his touch unnerved her. Their eyes met briefly and she stepped backwards in shock, thinking she saw tenderness in his eyes.
As if on cue, he blinked and his expression once again became unfathomable, his eyes the usual flinty grey. ‘All done,’ he said, smiling firmly and then murmured something else in Italian that she didn’t understand.
His every move seemed to be larger than life to Sapphire and she was glad that he was no longer in her immediate space. She breathed freely, relieved, although her chest felt constricted – as if her lungs were full of concrete rather than air.
Marco casually rested his hip against the desk, his arms once again folded as he surveyed his handiwork. ‘How does it feel?’
‘Sorry?’ Why was he asking that? ‘Feel?’
‘The arm. Now I have made it secure?’
‘Oh. Fine. Lovely.’ She flapped her arm in its bandage. He was joking, right? ‘Never felt better.’ She waggled her fingers in the sling as Marco studied her, his head tilted to one side.
She blew upwards, trying to cool her cheeks down with her breath as heat washed over her. Lurching forwards on her decidedly weak legs, she turned back to face the class. ‘I think we all know how to administer bandages now, but there is one last thing to remember. Can anyone tell me what that is?’
Finbar’s hand shot up and his suggestion rang out loud and clear. ‘Is it kissing it better, miss?’ There was no mistaking his insinuation, and Sapphire, who was holding on by a thread, felt her body temperature hit meltdown.
She swallowed hard, trying to regain her equilibrium. ‘No, Fin, that isn’t the answer I wanted, although a bit of TLC never hurt anyone. You need to check that the fingertips don’t turn blue.’ She held her own burning fingers up to emphasise the point, half expecting sparks to fly out of them. ‘If they do, you’ve tied the bandage too tight.’ Her heart was thumping erratically as she glanced over at Marco. If this carried on, she would be the one needing defibrillation.
‘We’ll have a break now and then we’ll split into two groups. One can work on Resusci Annie while the other practises splints and burns.’ She gripped the edge of the table, trying to look nonchalant, but her mind was racing as quickly as her heart. Had she really fallen for that man’s sex appeal?
A few minutes later she watched Marco as he tried to breathe life into Resusci Annie, his lips pressed firmly over Annie’s rubber ones. For one second she imagined those lips were hers – but she cast aside the image quickly. Marco gently put his hands over Annie’s breastbone to practise heart compressions and she noticed her own breasts felt oddly tingly under her shirt. She was just too hot, that was all; it meant nothing.
‘Right, one last thing to do and then we’re finished,’ she said, her voice over-bright as she looked down at her notes. Pressure points. No, she just couldn’t practise putting pressure on such intimate parts of the body with Marco. ‘Sorry, I was wrong there.’ She looked up, folding her notes in half, decisively. ‘That’s the end of the session. As soon as we’ve completed the multiple-choice questionnaire, we’re finished.’ She passed out the exam papers and had started to gather her own paperwork together when an engineer stuck his hand in the air. ‘Yes, Billy?’
‘Yeah, sorry, Sapphire, but there’s a question about pressure points – did I miss that bit?’
‘Oh, did I forget? Well, the answer is …’ She looked down at the exam paper to buy some time. ‘Erm, your pressure points are areas where you press hard on a major vein to stop blood from a wound pumping out. One is at the top of the arm, like so.’ She pressed her right-hand fingers to her left arm. ‘Another major pressure point is at the top of the leg by the groin. Okay?’ She pressed her fingers to her groin and instinctively flashed a look at Marco, who was watching intently, the annoying half smile on his face once more.
His mobile beeped and he frowned as he checked the message. He picked up his jacket and threw it casually over his shoulder, leaving the room without giving Sapphire so much as a glance. He hadn’t filled in the answer sheet either, which threw into question his claim about wanting the qualification. She shook her head, puzzled. What was that all about, then, and should she assume he would be back to his usual grumpy self the next time they met?
Marco stood in the doorway speaking into his phone, his normally severe expression relaxed as a smile played around his lips. Sapphire resisted the urge to eavesdrop – although why it would matter who he was talking to, she didn’t know.
He finished his conversation and glanced over at her. She shot him a smile, but in return he simply nodded, pocketed his mobile and turned on his heel. She felt snubbed and guilty in one hit, her earlier good mood evaporating as he strode off. Staring through the open doorway, she tried not to feel hurt as he marched down the corridor, away from her.
‘Earth to Sapphire?’ Finbar stood beside her, following her line of vision, his eyes penetrating, his lips tight. He held the remnants of the sweets in the basket and Sapphire glanced at them as if she’d never seen them before.
‘What? Oh, right.’ She looked around the room surveying the exam papers now in a pile on the desk, the chairs stacked neatly on top of each other and her laptop back in its case. ‘Thanks, Fin, I was miles away.’
‘You don’t say.’ Finbar’s sarcasm held a note of concern and Sapphire looked up sharply, finally pulling herself back into the world she inhabited.
Finbar leaned against the desk casually, but Sapphire knew him too well. She read the signs correctly. ‘Okay, hit me with it – I know you’ve got something to say.’
He looked down at his nails, painted in shiny black lacquer, then looked back up into her eyes and pouted.
‘Well?’
‘Just don’t shoot the messenger, okay?’
‘I can’t promise anything,’ Sapphire said, ‘especially if the messenger is wearing a pink jumper.’ She knew that Marco would be the topic of conversation and that Finbar would already have dug deep for information about their new boss. A shiver of apprehension ran down her spine.
‘You know …?’ He shrugged, faltered, and tried again. ‘It’s just –’
‘Say it, Fin, I know it’s not going to be pleasant.’
‘It’s just that I was doing a bit of chatting on an online forum about Mr Cavarelli. It turns out that he has work tactics.’
‘Tactics – as in warfare?’
‘Not quite on such a grand scale, I hope, but apparently when he acquires a new business he befriends one particular person, mostly a female which makes it easier for him, I imagine.’
‘Easier for what?’ She paused, adding, ‘Are you jealous, Fin, of me working with Marco?’
‘Yes, of course I am – he’s gorgeous – but that’s not what I’m talking about.’
‘Aren’t you?’
‘Well…’ Finbar wrinkled his nose. ‘Anyway, I’ve heard that he pumps his chosen victim for information, gets them to do his dirty work, then sacks them – sometimes leaving them broken-hearted, if you get my meaning.’
‘Oh, Fin, that’s a terrible claim to make about someone.’
‘I know. I hold my hands up for being the bad guy, but it’s because I know how naive you can be in so many ways, especially towards men; you just haven’t done the rounds, honey. You’re not tough enough to deal with someone like him.’
‘Fin, I know you mean well, but please don’t worry about me.’ She placed her hand over Finbar’s. ‘That man wouldn’t want to touch me with a bargepole anyway – he thinks I’m a loose woman and might sully his reputation. Apart from his being my boss, which he never tires of reminding me, I am nothing to him. He barely knows me.’
‘That’s what worries me, he hasn’t got a clue what you’re really like and maybe he thinks you’re game on. I can tell that you like him, Sapphire, but remember Icarus, who flew too close to the sun?’
‘What?’
‘In Greek mythology. He flew too close to the sun, his wings melted and he crashed and burned in the sea.’
‘Right. And your point is?’ She rolled her eyes.
‘Marco is your sun. You are drawn to him and you will get burned if you’re not careful.’ He squeezed her hand. ‘Okay?’
‘I’ll be careful, Fin, but honestly, he’s just my boss, that’s all.’ But even as she spoke she relived the whisper of Marco’s breath on her neck, his fingers touching hers. She hugged Finbar reassuringly and wished she were as confident as she sounded.
‘Come on, let’s get a drink. My treat. But it’ll have to be apple juice, we don’t want you getting drunk again, do we?’ He tucked his arm through hers and she bumped him with her hip.
‘As if!’
‘Two drinks and she’s anybody’s – that’s what our new boss tells me.’ Finbar bumped her back and threw her a look of caution, even as he teased her.
***
Marco watched this exchange from his car as he talked on his mobile, stopping mid-sentence as a fierce, illogical anger rose up inside him, making him catch his breath. ‘I’ll call you back,’ he said into the mobile, his fingers clenched around it, as he watched Sapphire laughing up into Finbar’s face. Her mouth widened into a grin at something he said. Marco couldn’t take his eyes off her, following her every move like a voyeur, jealous of her pleasure at being with Finbar.
It had been too long since he’d felt any emotions for a woman and was irritated that the only emotion this young woman had caused him so far was an exquisite kind of pain. The sort of pain that went hand in hand with unrequited love. And he was certainly done with love and all of its complexities so it absolutely couldn’t be that.
He acknowledged that he was envious of Finbar having the right to link his arm through Sapphire’s and laugh with her, through a natural friendship and mutual admiration, whereas he was just her demanding boss who had set himself above her.
Mastering casual friendships with women had never been easy for him, believing that they were mostly eyeing him up for a wedding suit as soon as they met him. He was also aware that he had a certain kind of charm, or was it just his wealth that was splattered all over the internet and celebrity magazines? He wondered if that was why he found himself drawn to Sapphire: she wasn’t the gold-digger sort, and clearly had no clue about his identity when she met him. Both times!
He sighed. He couldn’t understand her at all and it frustrated him as he was usually a good judge of character. Sapphire Montrose – she was confusing the hell out of him.
It would be nice to make her smile the way Finbar did, he thought, watching her eyes crinkle with laughter. He dragged his gaze away and sighed. Maybe he was a little homesick; such introspection was not one of his usual afflictions. He couldn’t help but think of his siblings and the success they’d made of their lives. Two sisters, comfortable with their lot and happy to be mums to their adorable children, and one brother, also happily married and busy running the nautical side of the business, while his wife made fashion design a career that was beginning to hit the headlines.
Whereas he, Signor Marco Cavarelli, had, or rather didn’t have, Simone, his wife who specialised at spending money and screwing him over. He also now owned an airline that was spewing money faster than water in a broken drain, and a penthouse apartment that the paparazzi stalked, imagining it was brim-full of beautiful women desperate to have sex with him, if the fabricated articles were to be believed. In truth, there probably were plenty of women who would happily have sex with him, but sadly the desire was rarely reciprocated.
He watched Sapphire and Finbar until they turned a corner and disappeared from sight. Even then he couldn’t tear his gaze away from the space that Sapphire had occupied, for a good few minutes.
He made a decision. He would speed up his involvement in this new enterprise and go back to Italy sooner than he’d anticipated. Sapphire Montrose spelled trouble – he had known it the first time he set eyes on her – and the sooner he left the shores of England, the better it would be for his sanity.
He turned the ignition key, the throaty roar of his classic AC Cobra reminding him that he could be back among the hills he loved so much within a couple of days if he chose to. He would focus on that, not think about Sapphire Montrose, although his fingers tingled at the memory of his fingertips touching her skin, and the silkiness of her hair as he slid it away from her throat.
He shook his head. Such madness must stop before he started on another path of self-destruction. He slammed the car into top gear as he took to the motorway, enjoying the throb of the engine. Soon Sapphire Montrose would be relegated to the position of just another employee, and he would be back in the mountains of Italy where he belonged.