Читать книгу Modern Romance December 2019 Books 5-8 - Jane Porter - Страница 24

WHAT WAS SHE doing now? What was the result of the test? What was the doctor’s view?

These were his thoughts as his jet soared into the sky, leaving the mountains and Stacey behind. An emergency call to return to London had necessitated an immediate change of plan. He’d ring her when he landed. No panic. She’d be busy with last-minute arrangements and he’d see her at the party. If anyone could cope, it was Stacey. He’d tried to call her several times, but her phone was always engaged. She occupied his thoughts in ways that left no room for anything else—not for business, for the all-important annual party to thank his best customers and staff, nor even his siblings and the fellow members of the Da Silva polo team.

What could be more important to him than the fact that he and Stacey might be expecting a child?

On that thought, he called her again.

Her phone rang out.

She would be busy, he reassured himself. He’d called in at the hotel where mammoth structures for his party were already being created, but no one had been able to find her. He’d guessed she was at the drop-in clinic. Her plans to delight and amaze his guests had exceeded even his jaundiced expectations, but now, instead of seeing towering structures mimicking an ice kingdom, or animatronic dragons breathing fire on demand over a banqueting hall of unsurpassed splendour, his mind was full of Stacey, and how beautiful she’d looked when they’d skied down the mountain. Cheeks flushed, eyes bright with excitement, snowflakes frosting soft auburn tendrils framing her face, she’d appeared lovelier to him than he’d ever seen her.

If he had a different life and could shake the guilt that haunted him, and Stacey weren’t welded to her career, they might be planning a very different future. As it was, they must both be tense as they waited for the result of the pregnancy test, and he only wished he could be there to reassure her. But that was his life. That was his solitary life, and she was better out of it.

He called her again.

No reply.

So it was true. She wasn’t going crazy, Stacey reflected as she left the walk-in clinic with a sheaf of leaflets advising on pregnancy and what to expect. Just as she’d suspected, the feeling inside her was a miraculous spark of new life. She was jubilant and terrified, as well as full of determination and purpose, all at once. Jubilant because it was a miracle she embraced with all her heart, and terrified because she didn’t exactly have a pattern to follow, or a guidebook to help her, let alone a mother to advise and promise that it didn’t have to be like the childhood Stacey remembered, full of mental anguish and regret. It could be a happy time. It would be a happy time, she determined as she pulled out her phone to call Lucas. Their child would be happy. She’d give her life to that cause.

No way!

Her phone was flat!

She’d been rather too busy over the past twenty-four hours to think about charging her phone. Exhaling noisily with frustration, she determined to call him as soon as she arrived at the hotel.

But as she crunched across the snow-covered pavement, the panic to call him subsided. Part of her wanted to tell him right away, while another part wanted to keep the news in a tight little kernel in her chest just a little while longer. Sharing things at home in the past had always got her shot down in flames. She knew Luc was a very different man from her father, but the past was a powerful enemy.

And she was stronger. Mothers had to be the strongest of all.

Once she had charged up her phone, she resolved to call him.

‘He’s been called away?’ she repeated, bewildered, once she got through.

Luc’s phone was on call divert and she was speaking to one of his PAs. The woman was to the point, rather than sympathetic. ‘I’m afraid I can’t give you any more information, but I will pass on the message that you called.’

‘Thank y—’

The line was already dead.

You’ve never had any hand-holding, so why do you need it now?

Correct. She’d got this.

Those were Stacey’s exact thoughts two days later as she stared into the mirror before heading off to the Da Silva party, where, regardless of how she felt inside, she couldn’t wait to showcase the talents of her team. The thought of seeing Luc again was a constant thrum of excitement that she was fully aware would play in the background of everything she did that night. She’d deal with that too.

This particular event was difficult to dress for, as there were so many elements to the night. First there would be a champagne reception, followed by a traditional banquet with dancing and an auction afterwards at the hotel in the village. Then a trip up the mountain to the balcony of Luc’s chalet, which was the ideal vantage point for a firework display, and then later the famous torchlit procession of the most expert skiers in the area, who would descend a mountain floodlit by snow tractors. Thermals beneath a ball gown were a sensible precaution to cater for everything the weather could throw at her, and she had snow boots at the ready.

Luc had arranged an ingenious mode of transport to get guests up the mountain after the main party in the hotel. They made a great team, she mused as she checked her make-up in the mirror. Or might have done, if he’d troubled to speak to her. Everything was being conducted through their teams, so Luc had obviously made his decision regarding any possible future for them. If he had got in touch she could have told him the happy truth. Perhaps it was as well they kept things this way, though she couldn’t deny his behaviour surprised her. Luc wasn’t the type to turn his back on anything, but he had, and of all things, on the possibility of becoming a father. She didn’t know whether to pity him for being more damaged than she’d thought, or whether she should regard herself as just another of his discards. Either way, it hurt. Once this party wrapped they wouldn’t be part of each other’s lives. Their amazing fling was over. There was no way anything could happen between them in the real world, their paths were too different, as were their dreams.

So…?

Swinging a lanyard around her neck, she blinked back tears. So, go, team! Go, Stacey! Make this the best party ever, adding another brick in the foundations you’re building for your child.

His first sight of Stacey sucked the air from his lungs. The gown she’d chosen to wear was a deep shade of blue that contrasted beautifully with her rich auburn hair and Celtic colouring. She was wearing her hair up tonight, displaying those incredible cheekbones and her lush, generous mouth. She was easily the most attractive woman at the party, and it took an effort to drag his gaze away to concentrate on his guests.

This was quite literally an evening for the great and good. Some of the guests were undeniably pompous, and some were snobs he could have done without, but the various charities he supported needed their money. There were those who were fabulously rich and correspondingly stupid, and he could never understand how they held onto their wealth. He had also invited members of his staff from across the world, pearls beyond price without whom nothing would get done, as well as representatives from each of the charities.

And then there was Stacey.

His gaze kept stealing back to her, and each time he looked her way she was being equally gracious to everyone. Whether she was greeting a member of the aristocracy, one of the many ambassadors he’d invited, a group of cleaners from his London office, or a head of government, she behaved with the same gentle charm. His only regret was that her brother couldn’t be here tonight to see her as he was seeing her, but Niahl was with the team playing polo. He hadn’t told Niahl how far his relationship with his sister had progressed, but they knew each other too well for Niahl not to notice how many times Stacey had cropped up in conversation. ‘Take care of her,’ Niahl had said. ‘That’s all I ask. Above anyone I know my sister deserves to be happy.’ A spear of regret hit him at the thought that he had pretty much allowed this unique woman to slip through his fingers without even putting up a fight. He’d allowed business to take precedence over Stacey, and even the possibility of a child.

One day he would have to confront his feelings, and could only pray that by the time he got around to doing so, it wouldn’t be too late.

He watched her deal with more difficult guests, and felt anger on her behalf that she turned herself inside out for everyone, but who cared for Stacey? Who massaged her shoulders after an evening like this when she was exhausted? Who would kiss the nape of her neck, fix her a drink and bank up the fire to keep her warm?

‘Señor Da Silva!’

He wheeled around to face an elderly Spanish duke.

‘What a pleasure! What a party! You have quite a find in Señorita Winner. I’d hold onto her if I were you.’

‘Don Alejandro,’ he said, smiling warmly as he gripped his compatriot’s hand. ‘So delighted you could make it.’

‘Not half as delighted as I am, Lucas. Take my advice for once and hold onto her.’

He didn’t need advice to do that, Lucas reflected as his elegant friend went to join his companions at their table. But in all probability he’d already blown it.

He’d greeted all the guests, and now there was just one more thing to do.

He stood in Stacey’s way as she patrolled the ballroom. ‘Are you avoiding me?’

Seeing him, she tensed, but her eyes darkened as she looked up at him to ask coolly, ‘Should I?’

‘You are the most infuriating woman,’ he said as he backed her into the shadows.

‘Lucas, I’m busy.’

‘Too busy to talk to your most important client?’ But there was a lot more than business in his eyes. She knew what he wanted to know.

‘You’re here to talk business,’ she said. ‘Of course, I’m not too busy to speak to you, Señor Da Silva.’

‘Luc, surely?’

‘What can I do for you, Señor Da Silva?’

She was a cool one, but there was a flicker of sadness in her eyes.

‘I want to congratulate you on a fabulous evening, of course.’

‘It isn’t over yet.’

He raised a brow and had the satisfaction of seeing her blush.

‘Is there something I can get for you?’

‘We’ll talk about that later. I notice you plan to hold an auction after the banquet, and there are some truly spectacular prizes.’

‘You have very generous friends.’

‘And you can be very persuasive.’

She said nothing, refusing as always to take any praise. The tension between them was extraordinary.

‘A silent auction,’ he observed.

‘Yes. It’s less intrusive, and goes on longer—all night,’ she explained. ‘The prizes remain on view, either in here on tables at the far end of the ballroom, or in a photograph. To place a bid on a certain lot, all your guests have to do is place their offer in a sealed envelope. Competition is fierce, as no one has any idea what anyone else has bid.’

‘Smart woman.’

‘Did you think I was stupid?’

‘No,’ he said in the same easy, conversational tone she had used. ‘I admire you.’

‘It’s my job,’ she dismissed with a shrug. ‘I promised to do my best for you, and I will. There’s no chance to show off, but no one wants to miss out.’ Her eyes bored into his. ‘So the charities benefit far more from these secret bids than they would from a noisy auction.’

‘Excellent.’ He dipped his head in approval while every fibre of his body demanded that he claim her now. ‘I approve. Well, you’d better get on.’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Luc,’ he reminded her through gritted teeth. ‘We’ll see each other at the end of the evening.’

Stacey’s eyes flashed open. Oh, will we? she thought.

Her heart twisted into knots of confusion as Luc walked away. She hated that he could shake her professional persona to this extent, yet she longed for a glance that said he cared. She expected too much. Always had. Her father had told her that frequently, and he was right. She was needy inside and had to shrug it off and don her armour.

It wasn’t easy to ignore Luc, and as she worked the room she watched him. With his easy stride and magnificent physique—a body she could undress in her mind at a moment’s notice—he was outrageously hot, a fact she could see being logged by every sentient being in the room. It reminded her of when she’d been the wallflower on the bench and admirers had mobbed him. Would she see him after the party? She could be cynical all she liked, but her heart leapt at the thought.

Stacey’s silent auction proved to be a brilliant idea, and was an incredible success. He wanted to congratulate her, but, as usual, she was impossible to find. Eventually, she almost crashed into him on her way to find an extra drum to hold all the bids. ‘Kudos to you,’ he called out as she rushed past. With every base covered at this, his most important event of the year, she had exceeded his expectations by a considerable amount.

There were so many bids to count he thought they’d never be finished, but when the final total was announced, the money raised for the various charities was a record amount. He’d tried celebrities and royalty before, but nothing had worked like this. Stacey should share the spotlight with him, he determined as he mounted the stage. He called for her but there was no answer from the crowd. Shrugging this off with a smile to reassure his audience, he told them she was probably hard at work on his next event and raised a laugh. Turning to his aide, he added in a very different tone, ‘Find her.’

He strode from the stage to tumultuous applause that should have been Stacey’s. ‘On second thoughts,’ he said, catching his aide’s elbow before the man could leave, ‘I’ll find her.’

Stacey was sitting alone in the office her team was using as a temporary base in the hotel. She could hear cheers in the distance, and guessed the amount of money raised by the auction had just been announced, but this was one of the few opportunities she would have during the night to be alone, and she had just realised that she couldn’t ‘suck it up’ as she’d thought, as Lucas remained resolutely centred in her mind. Anything he did or said affected her. However pathetic that was, it was a fact she had to deal with. There was no possibility of conveniently ejecting him from her mind. At the same time, she was alert for the end of this part of the evening. Transport was already waiting outside for the guests. She’d scheduled everyone’s departure, so there was no need to show her face yet. The team had done its work, begging for prizes, and then organising and displaying them to best advantage, and she was more than happy to leave the glory to them and to Lucas. Raising money for good causes was something he did extremely well, and the auction was always a high point for Stacey. Tonight had seen a phenomenal result, mainly due to the fact that Lucas had an incredible array of wealthy friends. She’d noticed the sideways glances between the rich and famous as they’d attempted to outbid each other. In a silent auction no one knew what anyone else was bidding, so the temptation was always to add a little more, which was all to the good for the charities.

Leaning back in the chair, she closed her eyes and sighed with relief. Chalking up another success should have her buzzing with excitement. It would secure the immediate future of the company, and she was optimistic about requests for quotations flooding in once the press spread the word of another stunning Party Planners event. But it also heralded the end of working with Lucas.

A child should bring them together, if only for the occasional meeting, but would he want that? His attitude so far had been distant in the extreme, and she didn’t want him dropping in and out of their lives. Their baby needed both its parents—not living together, necessarily, but both equally invested in its current and future well-being. So much for his talk of a dynasty, she reflected with a small sad laugh. If he took this much interest in his line going forward, it would die out.

She started with surprise as the door burst open and Luc walked in. ‘There you are,’ he exclaimed as if she’d been hiding. ‘Come with me. I want to introduce you on stage so you can take credit for your success.’

It took her a moment to rejig her brain back into work mode. Luc was like a tornado who swept in and then out again with equal force. Taking a deep breath, she asked the only question that mattered where business was concerned. ‘Has the team been on stage?’

‘Of course,’ he said impatiently. ‘But you weren’t there.’

You make it so inviting, she mused tensely.

‘You’re part of the team, aren’t you?’ he demanded.

‘Yes, but—’

‘No buts,’ he said. ‘This is your night. And if you won’t take the praise for yourself, then at least take it for the team, and for the hotel staff that has supported them.’

Put like that she had no option.