‘Everything?’ He kept his voice icily smooth, but she still didn’t react, her expression unruffled.
‘Our shared history.’
He raised an eyebrow. ‘Shared history? That’s one way of putting it, I suppose.’
He stopped himself from saying anything else, from letting the bitter words he’d been holding back for ten years come spilling out. He was no longer a young man with no idea how to handle his emotions, how to cope with accusations and betrayal and heartbreak.
‘However, that’s exactly why you’re perfect for this job. After all, you know the castle better than anyone else.’
Again, just a blink as her reaction. Finn folded his arms and waited for her to respond, refusing to allow her calmness to throw him. After all, whether she called herself Alexandra Davenport or Lola Beaumont, there was one thing he knew for sure: she didn’t just know Blakeley Castle, she loved it with every fibre of her fiery being.
But, he conceded as he studied her, this woman wasn’t fiery. Gone was the platinum blonde hair and dramatic eyeliner, the cutting-edge fashion and almost fey wildness. Instead Alexandra’s hair was her natural light brown, neatly pinned up, her make-up discreet, her clothes professional. There was nothing wild in the way she stood, nor in her eyes. Instead Finn noted her absolute air of control. Was there any trace of Lola trapped inside this stranger?
‘The castle, yes. Your brand, no.’
‘But you specialise in short-term jobs, in getting up to speed quickly,’ he pointed out silkily. ‘I have a whole team who can manage Hawk’s PR work. What I need is someone to help me launch Blakeley Castle as a destination. Your expertise and knowledge make you the logical choice. Your colleague, Amber, didn’t think there would be any problem.’
‘Amber doesn’t know that I have any personal connection to Blakeley—or to you,’ she added in a low voice. ‘So of course she wouldn’t foresee any conflict of interest. But there are conflicts, and it’s my professional opinion that you would be better off with one of our excellent consultants instead of me. I can think of at least three who would be perfect. I propose I go back to London now and send you their profiles. I can make sure your preferred candidate is with you by the end of the day. I’m sorry you have wasted your time. It’s unfortunate that I was out of contact when you called.’
She picked up her bag and took a decisive step back.
‘I’m glad to see you’ve done so well, Finn. I look forward to our companies working together. I’m sure it will be a successful partnership.’
Not so fast. He hadn’t got her back just to watch her drive off into the sunset with nothing resolved.
‘You’ve signed a contract.’
Her eyes flickered. ‘And we’ll honour that contract...’
‘The contract specifies you, Alex. That you will work here at Blakeley Castle until Christmas Eve. Not one of your consultants, however excellent they may be.’
‘Yes, but—’
‘It’s you I have employed, your expertise I want, and your exorbitant rates I have agreed to.’
‘We can, of course, offer a discount to offset any inconvenience.’
‘I don’t need a discount. Either you fulfil the terms of your contract or I sue you for breaking them. Your choice. I’m sure you’ll be happy to stand up in court and tell everyone why you didn’t feel able to work for me.’
Her silence and stillness were absolute. ‘I see. I’m sorry that you hate me this much, Finn...’
‘I don’t hate you, Lola. I have absolutely no feelings at all towards you. This isn’t personal. This is business. So what will it be?’
He held her gaze, conscious of the lie. Of course it was personal, but his business reasons were more than valid. And he didn’t hate her. He never had.
She sighed. ‘If you’re absolutely adamant that I stay then of course I will, but I’d like to make it clear that I think you would be better letting me assign someone else to this job. Are you sure this is what you want?’
‘I’m sure. Come along and I’ll show you to your desk. Not that you need me to show you anywhere. I’m sure you remember your way around.’
Her eyes dipped briefly and she laid a hand on his arm, her touch light. Even her touch had lost its fire. Or maybe he was immune, their past having inoculated him against any spells she might cast.
‘Finn, I need to get one thing straight. If you really want me to work for you then please forget you ever knew me. Forget I ever lived here. Lola Beaumont is gone. I left her behind a long time ago.’
‘Shame. There was a lot of good in Lola behind it all.’
‘That’s neither here nor there. Do I have your word that you will respect my anonymity? The reputation I have built up? I don’t know how you tracked me down, Finn, but if you really have brought me here to do my best for your business and not to create a whole other kind of publicity then you’ll forget about Lola.’
She fixed her disconcerting gaze on him. Still no trace of visible emotion in their grey depths. No longer could a lovestruck boy compare them to stormy seas or windswept skies. Instead they were more like a glossy pebble, smooth and unreadable.
‘Unless, of course, it’s other publicity that you are after? Not my expertise but my past?’
Finn stared at her, incredulous as her meaning took shape. ‘You think I brought you here to expose you?’
She shrugged. ‘It would be excellent PR. The last Beaumont back at Blakeley... The papers would love it. They’ll rake up the old scandal anyway, you know that—you must be counting on it. Everyone loves the idea of an old, proud family brought down, and now they can stand on the spot where it happened. I am quite happy to facilitate that, Finn, but I am no longer personally part of that story.’
His hands curled once more into fists as he fought to match her calmness. ‘I don’t expect you to be the story. Blakeley is mine now. I prefer to concentrate on the future and on building prosperity for everyone who works here.’
‘Thank you. I’m glad we understand each other.’
Even with the toned-down make-up and hair, the professional clothes, he could still see traces of the vibrant girl he had known in the tilt of Alexandra’s pointed chin, the curve of her cheekbones, her elegant posture. But any resemblance was purely skin-deep.
Lola was gone, and with her all that fire and passion. It might have got her—and all who knew her—into trouble sometimes, but she had at least known how to live. He got the impression that the woman in front of him didn’t really live a single day of her ordered life. Rather she sleepwalked through it, merely existing. Of all the tragedies that had hit the Beaumonts, this seemed like the biggest tragedy of all.
But whether she called herself Alexandra or Lola one thing was clear—she still thought he would use her, expose her for his own personal gain, just as she had believed ten years ago. No matter what he had achieved, to the woman opposite he was still the boy she thought had betrayed her. Well, his word might not have been good enough then, but she would have to believe in it now.
His future awaited him, and once Christmas was over Lola/Alexandra would be out of his life and his memories for good.
Control had been at the centre of Alex’s life