At least for the weekend.
‘You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?’
Her eyes lit up with pleasure and she nodded. ‘Not dismissing the last twenty-four hours in our suite, I’m having a ball being here.’ She beckoned him closer with a crook of her finger. ‘I never do stuff like this. Feels like I’m playing hooky and I love it.’
‘Don’t you go away for girls’ weekends with Ruby?’
Shadows blanketed the light in her eyes and the corners of her mouth drooped. ‘We’ve been pretty busy keeping Sea-borns afloat since Mum died, so most of our weekends have been spent working.’
Her response surprised him. Sure, he’d heard the rumours about Seaborns being in financial trouble but that had only been recently. As far as he knew the jeweller was a Melbourne institution and supplied pieces to the stars.
It looked as if a lot had happened in his absence.
‘I thought Mathilda was an astute businesswoman?’
Sapphire gnawed on her bottom lip, her G&T forgotten. ‘She was, but the shoddy economy hit us hard. Even rich folk stopped spending big on frivolities like new bracelets or necklaces and our profit margins tightened.’ She shook her head. ‘I made a promise to Mum to do whatever it took to keep Seaborns lucrative.’
‘You’re doing a great job—’
‘I almost lost the company,’ she said, her tone soft and plaintive. ‘Pushed myself too hard, didn’t enlist Ruby’s help—would’ve collapsed with a healthy dose of chronic fatigue syndrome if I hadn’t taken an enforced leave of absence.’
‘I didn’t know.’
‘Not many people do. Rubes did a great job keeping us viable while I recuperated at a health spa near Daylesford.’
‘How long?’
‘Three months.’
He couldn’t imagine this successful, driven woman taking a week off, let alone twelve weeks, and that fact rammed home how bad it must’ve been.
‘How do you feel now?’
‘Invigorated.’ She raised her glass in his direction, her smile self-deprecating. ‘Thanks to you.’
She’d given him an opportunity to dismiss the heavy stuff she’d revealed and move onto familiar teasing territory.
He wanted to—didn’t want to delve into personal territory that might strengthen the bonds between them. But the shadows in her eyes remained and he’d be damned if he’d let her down now she’d opened up. He might not want to complicate what they shared by taking it further, but the least he could do was hear her out if she wanted to offload.
‘When did you return to work?’
A slight frown creased her forehead. ‘The week before you walked in on me.’
He swore. ‘So you take months off and then jump straight back into the fray by pitching for the Fourde show?’
She glared at him, sass and defiance, and he’d never wanted to hold a woman more than he did at that moment.
‘I’d done my time. Rested, chilled, unburdened my soul to a bunch of self-help groups. Meditated, stretched—you name it, I probably tried it. But in the end…’ She made a circular motion with her finger at her temple. ‘I was going a little stir-crazy with all that wholesome goodness.’
‘Understandable. But we’ve been working manic hours on this show. How are you holding up?’
‘You tell me.’ She actually winked, obliterating the seriousness of their conversation. ‘At the risk of your ego getting any bigger than it already is, hanging out with you has been good for me.’
‘Care to clarify “hanging out”?’
‘At work.’ Her coy glance from beneath lowered lashes was adorable. ‘Out of work.’
‘In clothes.’ He ran a fingertip down her bare forearm, savoured her involuntary reaction as he raised goosebumps. ‘Out of clothes.’
She smiled, the tension of the last few minutes gone.
‘If I’d known you’d be better for me than months’ worth of yoga and meditation I’d have considered flying to Europe.’
She’d meant it as a light-hearted quip, a continuation of their word-play. But hot on the heels of his realisation that their fragile relationship could never go further it stung.
In a hypothetical world, if she were free from responsibilities, would they have a future?
Fruitless, irrelevant musings. But for a moment, with the thought of her joining him in Europe, it had been nice to dream.
He raised his Scotch and clinked it against her glass. ‘Well, lucky you don’t have to travel to Europe for my exclusive services. You can have as much as you want of me right here.’
‘I’ll drink to that.’
She took a sip, lowered her glass and pinned him with a curious stare. ‘What’s it like working in Paris? Must be ultra glam.’
Unease tightened his throat. He didn’t want to talk about his life in Paris. Didn’t want to run the risk of saying stuff he shouldn’t. But she’d opened up to him with surprising honesty. The least he could do was give her a snippet.
‘It’s competitive. All the best fashion houses in the world vie for attention there.’
‘Yet Fourde Fashion continues to thrive? Your folks must be proud.’
Her steady stare never wavered, and along with the lies he’d now have to tell came the wish he’d changed the subject when he’d had the chance.
‘The business is their baby. As long as Fourde flourishes all is right with the world.’
He tried to keep the bitterness out of his voice but Sap-phire was smart, and by the slight frown crinkling her brows he knew she must have picked up on the hint of hostility in his tone.
‘Can be tough, working for your folks.’ She swirled her drink absentmindedly, took a sip. ‘I adored Mum but she was a ruthless boss. And being family muddied the boundaries sometimes.’
If she only knew. His familial boundaries weren’t mud-died—they were clearly obliterated.
‘Yeah, can make for interesting employee evaluations.’
Not that he’d been subjected to any from his folks. They preferred to let their silent disapproval do the talking.
‘I used to envy you.’ She snuggled into her seat and cupped her hands around her glass. ‘Not having parents looking over your shoulder all the time.’
‘They would’ve had to care to do that,’ he blurted, instantly regretting his blunt response when her eyes widened in surprise.
‘You didn’t get along?’
He shrugged, wishing he’d kept his big mouth shut, trying to play down his obvious resentment after that clanger.
‘I was a late arrival—a mid-life mistake. They had a burgeoning business and self-sufficient teenagers when I arrived. The rest is self-explanatory.’
Her pity was palpable. ‘So you didn’t spend much time together as a family?’
‘Try none.’ This time he managed to keep the acrimony out of his voice. ‘But, hey, as you said, I got to spend my last years of school parent-free. Lucky me.’
Then why did he feel so unlucky?
‘Bet they’re glad you’re all making up for lost time now.’
He grunted in response. Enough with discussing families,