True Colours (3 page)

Sebastian’s gaze made Alex feel horribly vulnerable, exposed. It was as if it was trained on her like a spotlight, like she was the leading lady who had forgotten her lines. Thoughts tumbled through her head, a dark chasm gaping in her stomach as her eyes locked with those of the very man she had spent the last sixteen years avoiding. Perhaps she could just back out, smile casually and apologise – say she’d stumbled into the wrong office? Perhaps if she focused hard enough she might be able to vanish completely and teleport herself back into her car where she could lock all the doors and crawl under the seat.

Massaging his chin, Sebastian finally spoke, breaking the silence that was building between them like a wall of ice, his voice rich with sarcasm.

‘
Alex Ryan. Goodness me, I didn’t really think it could be you, but here you are. Alive and well after all.’ Sebastian paused, glacial eyes penetrating her very core. His voice was calm, too calm. Alex thought it held a hint of a sneer. She couldn’t blame him.

‘
Why don’t you sit down Alex Ryan and tell me what you’ve been doing with yourself for the past sixteen years?’

As if hypnotised by his voice, Alex felt herself drawn towards his desk, could hear her heels clicking across the marble before she fully realised what she was doing – why didn’t she just turn around and leave? Run while she still had the chance? But the rational part of her brain wasn’t working, was paralysed by shock, running on automatic. He hadn’t changed one bit and everything that had attracted her to him all those years ago, his broad shoulders, his startling blue eyes, his very magnetism was reeling her in all over again. Alex found herself standing in front of his desk like a child brought before the headmaster.

‘
Sebastian…I didn’t…’ Alex blushed again, even more furiously this time, if that were possible. Her voice cracked, her throat suddenly dry; she could feel her whole body trembling. Gripping her briefcase, Alex prayed the nerves wouldn’t show. What should she say? What could she say? Not the truth, that was for sure. Too much was at stake. The past lay like a minefield between them, and at any moment she could put her foot down and destroy him utterly and completely. Whatever else had happened, she didn’t want that. She had left to protect him, to protect herself and her family, and the vows she had made all those years ago still held strong.

Alex had rehearsed this meeting in her head a million times over the years, her subconscious mind taking her back to him whenever she least expected it. How many times had she woken sweating and gasping for air, the memory of his kiss on her lips, her body sending her red hot messages, yearning for his touch? How many times had she imagined herself here, searching for the words to explain? And how stupid was she? How many seconds would it have taken her to do a search on Venture Capital Ireland, to find out who was on the board of directors?

‘
It was a preliminary meeting. I didn’t expect…’

Sebastian interrupted, lolling casually in his chair, as if nothing mattered in the world, as if he didn’t give a damn that she had just walked right back into his life.

‘
You didn’t expect what? You didn’t expect to see me?’ His thick eyebrows rose in question, the long dark eyelashes she remembered so well framing those blue eyes, their colour deepened by the blue of his shirt. ‘That seems rather unlikely. You were always so organised Alex, so thorough. How did you expect to do business with my company and not meet me?’ Sebastian left the question hanging. Alex wanted to cry out, explain that for once in her life she hadn’t been thorough, that really, honestly, he was the last person she had expected to see. But she knew that would make things worse, would make her look even more stupid than she already felt. He’d probably laugh in her face. She was quite sure he wouldn’t believe her – and she wasn’t about to add lying to his list of grievances against her.

‘
So, you’ve been living in Spain have you? And you followed your dream and studied design. Very good.’

Matter of fact, cold, he spoke to her as if they had no connection, had only just met, answering his own question, his face impassive. She would much rather he shouted, screamed all the questions she was sure he wanted answers to across the desk – what happened, why did you go? What about our plans, what about our dreams?

Alex opened her mouth to speak but Sebastian cut her off. ‘I hope you’re as good as Joss says. We only employ the very best here.’ Confused for a second, she suddenly realised he was talking about the contract, about redecorating his offices. She had expected the proverbial third degree, to be called to account at the very least and yet from the way he spoke, the matter seemed to be closed, and after everything, he wanted her to do the job! How could he be so detached?

‘
Our logo has this purple colour in it. Aubergine Joss calls it.’ Sebastian picked up a business card lying beside his diary and tossed it towards her. ‘I want the building to reflect our corporate image. Crisp and business-like, lots of white and this purple. Maybe purple carpets and some feature walls. And I’d like some decent pictures. Modern, cutting-edge stuff. Show our visitors that we’re leading the field. Joss will discuss the budget with you. I want to move on it quickly. I’m sick to death with all this brown , makes us look dowdy, out of touch. It’s Thursday today, we’ll have a look at your ideas on Monday morning.’

Before Alex could either reach for the card or reply, the phone on Sebastian’s desk buzzed. She jumped as he casually leaned forward to depress the speaker button.

‘
Yes Joss?’

‘
Caroline’s just been on. The wedding planner is dropping in sample invitations. She wants you to choose which one you like so you can discuss it over lunch.’

A wave of irritation passed across his face, as Alex felt her heart contract into a sharp painful lump in her chest. Wedding?

‘
Do you honestly think I’ll have an opinion Joss? Good God as if I’ve got time for that – I thought that’s why I was paying the bloody woman in the first place. You decide will you? Just make sure you send it up so that I know what it looks like.’

Suddenly pushing his chair back, Sebastian stood up, abruptly terminating their meeting, rounding the desk in one fluid movement that reminded Alex of a leopard stalking its prey. But then, he always had been a great mover, spinning her across the dusty moonlit ballroom in Kilfenora, his tape deck no match for the size of the room. ‘The Wind Beneath my Wings’. ‘Wishing on a Star’. Bryan Adams’ ‘Everything I do, I do it for you’. Alex felt her knees buckle.

‘
Joss has all our corporate print downstairs. She’ll give you copies of the brochures and get the colour references for you.’ Now only feet from him, Alex was suddenly aware of his aftershave, a delicate blend of sandalwood and spices, of the heat of his body. Her voice wasn’t much more than a whisper. ‘That will be fine. I’ll get everything together for Monday.’

But Sebastian was already heading across the room to the door.

Taking a deep breath, Alex slipped her briefcase strap over her shoulder, spun around and focused on crossing the room. It felt like a walk to the gallows. Ahead of her Sebastian was holding one half of the double doors open, one hand casually in his pocket, his brow furrowed, eyes on the floor, mind already absorbed in the next challenge. Reaching the door without disaster, Alex hesitated for a second, grasping for something intelligent to say, failing miserably. His very presence, the scent of him so close after so long left her utterly, hopelessly tongue-tied. Avoiding his eye, focusing on the flower arrangement in the hall, she managed, ‘So nine o’clock Monday?’

But Alex didn’t get any further. Suddenly, Sebastian’s arm was around her waist, her body pulled forcibly to his as his lips met hers, hungry, demanding. With her hands on his chest, instinctively Alex began to push him away, but the impulse didn’t last, her body responding to his as she melted into his embrace, just as she had all those years ago. Stars shot behind her closed eyes as the old fire was rekindled. Alex felt like she was on a train hurtling out of control, towns and cities, faces flashing past the windows so fast they blurred together. Ireland, Spain, her father, his grandfather.

Then it was over.

Pulling away from her, dropping her like an unwanted toy, Sebastian wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, regarding her surprise with disdain, the ice back in his eyes. Stumbling backwards, her own fingertips covering her bruised lips, Alex didn’t wait for him to speak but spinning on her heel headed straight for the lift. Behind her she heard the door close but she kept her eyes trained on the lift doors, her emotions churning like the downdraught from a helicopter rotor, her dignity in tatters.

FOUR

Why on earth had he kissed her? Sebastian Wingfield sat down heavily at his desk and put his head in his hands, his stomach churning with what? Anger – without a doubt; confusion – definitely, and…desire? But he wasn’t ready to admit that, even to himself.

He’d been wound up so tight at the sight of her after all these years, and then he’d caught the scent of her perfume. Spicy, exotic. Cinnamon and what? He’d never been sure. Something sexy and strong that brought images of the past hurtling back. Cinnabar wasn’t it called? How could he forget?

It seemed so long ago now…a memory captured like cine film, the colours fading over time. Sent by his grandfather to find Tom Ryan, the gamekeeper, pushing open the peeling door… wandering into the gloom of the ruined Mill House. A disembodied voice had made him start.

‘
He’s not here. There’s a poacher reported up by the dam. He won’t be long, reckons it’s Shamie from the village again.’ Bold, confident, a convent school accent.

Momentarily taken aback by the overly familiar tone, Sebastian had looked around to identify the source of the voice. It was then that he’d caught a waft of her scent, surprising him like the shaft of sunshine that penetrated the rotting thatch, pouring into the dusty interior of the abandoned two-storey building, its stone-flagged floor littered with rotten wood from the floor above and piles of autumn leaves that had blown into the corners. Suddenly an upturned mass of golden curls had appeared through a hole in the floor above, rosebud lips grinning cheekily as the girl regarded him with unconcealed interest.

‘
Hi, I’m Alex. Tom’s my dad. Who are you?’

Amazed at her audacity, at her brazen directness, Sebastian had faltered for a moment. The girls he’d met, the daughters of the Irish aristocracy and business elite invited by his boarding school to dances and debates, had fluttered their eyelashes and giggled, occasionally argued in strident opposition to the motion of the day, but had never had the confidence to speak to any of the chaps like this.

‘
Sebastian Wingfield.’

Before he could say more, her eyes had widened. ‘The Sebastian Wingfield? I thought you were away in France again this summer.’

She knew that he spent his summers with Cormac’s crowd?

‘
I was, I came back early. My grandfather wants me to learn how the estate’s run.’ Why on earth was he explaining himself to one of the staff? ‘Are you always this nosey?’

Pulling an exasperated face, the head had disappeared and he’d heard a scuffling sliding sound as she dragged herself across the few remaining boards to the top of a ladder rather precariously placed where the old staircase had been. The next thing he knew, a pair of mountain boots topped with thick, rainbow-striped socks had appeared, quickly followed by two long slim legs encased in skin-tight jeans, and a very neat bottom, her sweatshirt riding up as she shimmied over the edge of the floor revealing a curvy waist, her skin tanned.

Then the ladder had started to shake alarmingly.

Instinct taking over, Sebastian had rushed to grab it, his movement coinciding with her losing her balance, the ladder crashing down in a shudder of dust. Landing neatly in his arms, as if falling off a ladder was something she did every day, Alex had somehow managed to spin in mid-air so that when the dust settled Sebastian discovered her nose was centimetres from his own, the scent of her perfume strong. Surprising. Tantalising.

‘
Well done. I thought you boarding school boys only caught cricket balls.’ He could still hear the playfulness in her tone.

Good God…he’d been grand speaking to her from across the wasteland of his desk, had held onto his cool even though his heart had been racing; but the moment she had come close to him, the moment he had caught her scent, his resolve had crumbled…

Sebastian had thought his heart would stop when Jocelyn had mentioned her name, unable to believe it could possibly be the same Alex Ryan he’d known all those years ago – but his Alex had been passionate about design, had been determined to follow a career as an interior designer even then. So, as he waited for her to come up, biting the nail on his thumb, his forehead creased in a frown, he’d reckoned the odds were fair that it was the same girl. Not that he was a betting chap – the one and only time he’d ever been in a bookmakers had been with her, with Alex, a flutter on the Grand National, a tip from her dad. Their horse Love Match had come romping home that day; surely a sign that their union would endure, would win out over the odds.

But that was before…before she had disappeared without a word. Before she had left him alone, confused, and totally and utterly in love. Anger seethed inside him like a serpent awakened, its tail lashing. Betrayal. Loss so huge it was like a bereavement. Pain so deep it still ached like an old rugby injury. Thank goodness Sebastian had had a few minutes to prepare himself, to still the hot rush of emotion that had sent his heart rate off the scale when he had heard her name, had taken away his breath for longer than he would have liked.