Her eyelashes fell. ‘Half excited, half terrified. Naked—and not just because I am.’
‘That’s how it should be,’ he told her. ‘Even when you’re working to a brief there should be a little something of you in there. You should be exposed, otherwise you haven’t gone as far as you could have.’
She raised an eyebrow. ‘Always? Even when I had to rebrand the Village Inns wine bar chain and they wanted pinks and lime greens and bits of fruit everywhere?’
‘Especially then. Otherwise what’s the point? That’s why I struck out on my own so early. I wanted to be able to pick and choose my own work—that doesn’t mean I don’t listen to my clients though. There has to be a balance. I wonder...’ He paused, not wanting to push too much when she was still adjusting.
‘Wonder what?’
Oh, well, in for a penny... ‘At your degree show it was obvious your passion—and a huge amount of your talent—lay in textile design. It shows every Christmas, with every gift you make. But you’ve never tried to make it your career. You set your sights on interior design and took the first job you were offered even though you hated their whole brand.’
‘Hate’s a bit strong...’ she protested. ‘Wholeheartedly disliked maybe. That’s why it would never have worked with Finn. Even if he hadn’t been a golf-obsessed workaholic, he really loved the branding.’
‘It wouldn’t have worked with Finn because he was an idiot.’ Alex’s teeth began to grind just at the thought of Flora’s ex. How a girl with such good taste had such bad taste in men he would never know.
Not that he was any improvement. Actually that was untrue. A warthog was an improvement on Finn.
‘Good point.’
‘So why haven’t you tried to sell your designs before? Into shops or to fashion designers? It seems like the perfect path for you.’
‘I guess because I don’t design fabric to make money. I do it because I love it.’
‘Exactly. Why shouldn’t you do what you love? I do. Your whole family does. Don’t you deserve to as well?’
She slithered further down into the water, as if she were hiding from the question. ‘It’s different for you. You know what you want. You don’t let anything stand in your way. That thing you said, about having a piece of you in everything you do? I see that in your work. In this hotel, in your designs for Bali. And it’s wonderful. But it’s so exposing.’
‘And that frightens you?’
‘If people hate the neon limes, and they mostly will, then that’s fine. It’s not my creatives they hate. I’m just following the brief. But if they hate my scarves or my quilts or my bags, things I’ve poured love and attention into? That feels like I’ve failed—again. Like I’ve been rejected again. I don’t want the things I love tainted.’
Alex reached out and twisted one of the piled-up tendrils of dark silky hair around his finger. ‘Everything worthwhile comes with a price, Flora.’
She sighed. ‘Sometimes the price is too high. I don’t want to feel that exposed. I’ve spent my whole life being judged. Noticed because of my height, leered at because I was a teenager with big boobs, every teacher pointing out how unlike my siblings I was. My parents dragging me onto TV. I just want to be anonymous.’
His voice softened as he pulled at the curl. ‘But you’re out there now. You need to harden up, think about the next step.’
‘It’s not that easy though, is it? I need money to expand—to buy fabric, a better machine, a studio, somewhere to keep stock. Even if I stay small and exclusive I don’t think keeping my stock in boxes under my bed is going to cut it—or make me enough to live on!’
‘That’s where I have good news. Camilla caught me on the way in. She very much wants you to work on the next three hotels and is prepared to pay for the privilege. Do you trust me to negotiate you a good deal?’
Flora sat up, the water sloshing as she did so. It was so deep she was still respectably covered, just her shoulders rising from the white foam like Aphrodite. As enticing and tempting as Aphrodite. ‘A good deal? Does she know that my previous experience pretty much consisted of that awful pink fruit décor and the teapot theme for those cosy retro cafés? And let’s not forget the chintzy bedding range. This is a massive step up. I should be paying her!’
He grinned. ‘All she’s heard for the last twenty-four hours are her guests desperate to get hold of your work. If she can announce right now, while the buzz is still big, that you’re the designer for her next three hotels then that’s quite a coup for Lusso Hotels. I told you she likes to work with people who have a marketable story and right now that’s you. It’s a great way to get publicity for both here and for her future plans.’
She bit her lip. ‘I suppose. And she was already considering me so nothing much has changed.’
‘Nothing much but the price tag. If you subcontract to me then I can pay you monthly—which will give you some stability while you step up your own designs as well. Like all projects there will be weeks when you don’t need to do much for Lusso Hotels and other weeks when it will be frantic. But the subcontract could include studio space at my office for the length of the contract and if you use it for your other work then that’s fine. It’ll be yours.’
‘That would be great. At least that’s the space issue sorted.’
Alex had saved the best bit for last. ‘And she would like to see a touch of your own style in your plans for the Bali hotel, so I guess I was wrong when I said to watch the whimsy.’
Her eyes sparkled. ‘Really? You were wrong? Can I have that in writing?’
‘Watch it.’ He dipped a hand in the bath and scooped up a little bit of water.
‘Don’t you dare...this is a serious bath. I already told you.’
‘Don’t I dare what? Do this?’ He trickled the water slowly onto the exposed part of her chest, his heartbeat quickening as he watched the silvery drops trace a trail down her skin until they disappeared into the deep vee between her breasts.
‘Or this?’ she countered sweetly and before he could move away she grabbed the front of his shirt and hauled him into the bath, laughing as he landed on top of her. ‘Mind my hair. I don’t want to get it wet!’
Alex raised himself onto his hands and knees. ‘Now look what you’ve done. My clothes are all soaking.’ He rocked back onto his heels, ignoring the splash of the water as it sloshed over the side of the bath. ‘I’m going to have to take them off. You wanted a serious bath, Flora Buckingham? You’ve got one.’
Her eyes didn’t leave his as he pulled the sopping-wet shirt over his head, or as he began to unbutton his trousers. ‘Bring it on,’ she said, her voice breaking huskily, belying the tough words. ‘If you think you’re man enough.’
‘Oh, Flora,’ he promised her as his trousers and boxers followed his shirt over the side of the bath. ‘I’m more than man enough. Just wait and see.’
* * *
‘Come on, what’s taking so long?’ Alex sounded impatient as he rapped on the bathroom door. Again.
Flora rolled her eyes at her reflection. ‘It’s not my fault I had to redo my hair,’ she called back. ‘I told you not to get it wet.’
He didn’t answer for a moment, then: ‘Regrets, Flora?’
‘That my hair got wet? It might have been worth it.’ That didn’t mean she was entirely regret free but she wasn’t going to admit that to him. Or to herself. Not tonight. It was their last night, they were going to a Christmas ball and she looked, even if she said so herself, pretty darn smoking.
The dress she had bought