At last she was back in her room, safe in the knowledge that she and the team had every aspect of the night ahead covered between them. With very little time to review her choice of gown it was lucky she’d made her decision earlier. Seeing Lucas again had shaken her to the core. When he wasn’t in her life she thought about him constantly, and now he was here, a real physical presence in this same building, she couldn’t think of anything else, and she had to, she must. The only thing she must think about tonight was the work she loved.
Closing her eyes, she blew out a shaky breath. She had a phone call to make, and needed her wits about her to do that. Since Lady Sarah had put her in charge of running the Da Silva account, Stacey had established an excellent working relationship with the top people at Da Silva and wanted to give them a heads-up to make sure she wasn’t treading on any toes when she told Lucas she’d also be running his party in the mountains. It was no use burying her head in the sand. He had to know, and she had to be the one to tell him, and the sooner the better.
Her counterpart greeted her warmly, and listened carefully before admitting that, just as Stacey had suspected, they’d seen no reason to trouble Lucas with the fact that Stacey was in charge of his big annual event in the mountains. Lady Sarah’s word was good enough for them. ‘We haven’t kept it a secret,’ the woman explained. ‘He doesn’t appreciate gossip, and expects us to get on with things, so there was no reason to trouble him with the fact that Lady Sarah is unwell, and you’re taking over.’
‘That’s what I thought,’ Stacey admitted. ‘Don’t worry. I’ll handle it.’
‘No other problems?’
‘None,’ she confirmed, wishing that were true. She could pretend to other people, but not to herself, and Lucas coming back into her world had changed everything.
The outfit she’d put together was stylish enough to blend into the sophisticated crowd, yet discreet, so it wouldn’t clash in colour or style with anything one of the high-profile guests might choose to wear. A limited budget had confined her choices to the high street, but she’d been lucky enough to find some great buys on the sale rails of a famous store, including this simple column of lightweight cream silk. Ankle length, the gown reached just above the nude pumps she’d chosen to take her through the night, knowing she’d be on her feet for most if not all of the evening. The neckline was discreet, and boasted a collar and lapel that gave the elegant sheath a passing nod to a business suit. Having tamed her wild red curls into a simple updo, she tucked a slim radio into her understated evening clutch, swung a lanyard around her neck to make sure she was easily identifiable, and, having checked her lip gloss, she spritzed on some scent and headed out.
She checked her watch as she stepped into the elevator. Perfect timing. Her heart was racing—and not just with excitement at the thought of the impending party. Would Lucas feel anything when he saw her? No, she concluded with a wry, accepting curve of her mouth. He’d be as smoulderingly unconcerned as ever. But that didn’t stop her pulse spiking at the thought of seeing him again.
His first meet with Stacey did not go as he had expected. He cut her off in the ballroom, where, typically, she was rushing about.
‘I’m sorry, Lucas, but I can’t stop to talk now—’
‘I beg your pardon?’ He jerked his head back with surprise. ‘Is that all I get?’
She stood poised for flight. ‘After five long years?’ she suggested, her eyes searching his. Professional or not, she’d always been a participant, never afraid to take on a challenge, rather than a person content to laze on the benches. He took some consolation from the fact that those beautiful green eyes had darkened, and her breath was both audible and fast. ‘Are you run off your feet?’ he suggested dryly as she snatched a breath.
She was smart and knew at once what he meant. ‘I’m quite calm,’ she assured him with the lift of one elegant brow, as if to say, You don’t faze me, and swiftly following on with, Not everyone falls at your feet. Then professionalism kicked in. Fully aware that she was speaking to a client, she hit him with an old memory. ‘You don’t need to worry about drinks going flying tonight.’
‘Do I need to worry about anything else?’ he queried, staring down into her crystal-clear gaze.
She held her breath and then released it. ‘No,’ she said with confidence. ‘Good to see you, Lucas,’ she added as a prelude to dashing off. ‘You look well.’
‘You look flushed.’
‘The heat in here—’
He pinned a frown to his face. ‘If the air con isn’t up to the job—’
‘It is,’ she flashed.
‘Then…?’
‘Then, I have to get on.’
He smiled faintly. ‘Don’t let me stop you…’
‘You won’t,’ she assured him, and was he imagining it, or were her shoulders tense with awareness as she hurried away?
A member of staff attracted her attention and Stacey moved on to sort out another problem, leaving him in the unusual position of standing watching the action, rather than directing it. And he wanted more. A lot more. Those scant few minutes hadn’t been enough. Had they been enough for Stacey? Her eyes suggested not, but dedication to her job clearly overruled her personal feelings, leaving him more frustrated than he could remember. Did she feel the same? She didn’t glance back once.
She couldn’t just walk away.
But she had.
The last time he’d looked in the mirror Lucas Da Silva had stared back. He was supposed to give the rain check, not Stacey. He huffed with grim amusement. She clearly hadn’t read the rulebook. That must have gone out of the window when she left the farm—not that she’d been easy then. Stacey Winner had always been a piece of work. And looked amazing, he conceded as he followed her progress around the ballroom, trying not to think of her moaning in his arms and begging for more. Her carefully arranged hair was still damp from the shower and her make-up was simple, but she’d undergone a complete transformation from casual tee shirt and jeans into an elegant, ankle-length gown of cream silk that moulded her lush form with loving attention to detail. He watched as she stopped to reassure a member of staff with her arm around the woman’s shoulders. As soon as the team member returned to her duties he made his move. There was no reason why Stacey couldn’t speak to him now.
She had survived the first encounter with Lucas. Doing a little happy dance inside, she was a little breathless and a lot shaken up, but…I survived! And felt a little proud at the thought that she had managed to revive the old banter they used to share on the farm, yet had maintained a reasonable balance between her personal and her professional persona. At least, she hoped she had, Stacey reflected as she glanced across at Lucas, who was speaking to members of the band. Seeing him from a distance like this was bad enough, she mused, moving on. Standing close enough to touch him was a torment with no parole. He was like a force field, threatening to suck her in and turn her brain to jelly and she couldn’t afford to have that happen tonight.
‘Stacey.’
‘Lucas!’
He was right behind her. And it happened again. Her brain turned to mush, while her feet appeared to be welded to the spot. Forcing herself into a professional frame of mind, she focused on the job in hand. ‘The doors will open in a few minutes,’ she exclaimed brightly as he opened his mouth to say something, and then she slipped away.