About the Authors

SUSAN STEPHENS was a professional singer before meeting her husband on the Mediterranean island of Malta. In true Mills & Boon style, they met on Monday, became engaged on Friday and married three months later. Susan enjoys entertaining, travel and going to the theatre. To relax she reads, cooks and plays the piano, and when she’s had enough of relaxing she throws herself off mountains on skis or gallops through the countryside, singing loudly.

Born and raised in the Australian bush, MIRANDA LEE was boarding-school-educated, and briefly pursued a career in classical music before moving to Sydney and embracing the world of computers. Happily married, with three daughters, she began writing when family commitments kept her at home. She likes to create stories that are believable, modern, fast-paced and sexy. Her interests include meaty sagas, doing word puzzles, gambling and going to the movies.

Also by Susan Stephens

A Diamond for Del Rio’s Housekeeper

The Sicilian’s Defiant Virgin

The Secret Kept from the Greek

A Night of Royal Consequences

The Sheikh’s Shock Child

Pregnant by the Desert King

The Greek’s Virgin Temptation

Passion in Paradise collection

A Scandalous Midnight in Madrid

Also by Miranda Lee

Taken Over by the Billionaire

The Italian’s Unexpected Love-Child

Marrying a Tycoon miniseries

The Magnate’s Tempestuous Marriage

The Tycoon’s Outrageous Proposal

The Tycoon’s Scandalous Proposition

Rich, Ruthless and Renowned miniseries

The Italian’s Ruthless Seduction

The Billionaire’s Ruthless Affair

The Playboy’s Ruthless Pursuit

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk.

Snowbound with His Forbidden Innocent

Susan Stephens

Maid for the Untamed Billionaire

Miranda Lee

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-08855-8

SNOWBOUND WITH HIS FORBIDDEN INNOCENT & MAID FOR THE UNTAMED BILLIONAIRE

Snowbound with His Forbidden Innocent © 2019 Susan Stephens Maid for the Untamed Billionaire © 2019 Miranda Lee

Published in Great Britain 2019

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

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www.millsandboon.co.uk

Version: 2020-03-02

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Table of Contents

Cover

About the Authors

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Note to Readers

Snowbound with His Forbidden Innocent

Back Cover Text

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

EPILOGUE

Maid for the Untamed Billionaire

Back Cover Text

Dedication

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

CHAPTER THIRTY

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

EPILOGUE

About the Publisher

Snowbound with His Forbidden Innocent

Susan Stephens

There’s nowhere to hide from their chemistry…

Stacey has worked hard to become a successful businesswoman. She won’t let anyone—even frustratingly sexy tycoon Lucas Da Silva—remind her of the overlooked girl she once was.

Carrying responsibility for his worldwide company and siblings, Lucas is always in control. Especially of himself. But snowbound with Stacey, his best friend’s untouched—and very off-limits!—sister, he discovers temptation like no other. And as their mutual attraction grows hotter than the fire in his luxurious mountain chalet, Lucas has never been so close to breaking the rules…

For Vic,

editor extraordinaire,

who makes the compulsion of writing

such an absolute pleasure.

CHAPTER ONE

PARTIES BORED HIM. He didn’t want to go to tonight’s jamboree, but his guests expected it. Ambassadors, celebrities, and royalty who craved the Da Silva glitter expected to see the head of the company and to feast at his table.

He took the short route to the ballroom via his private elevator. Senses firing on full alert, he was on his way to check every single element organised by the company he’d hired to run the event, and woe betide Party Planners if anything fell short of his expectations.

Why should it? Party Planners was reputed to be the best in the business or he wouldn’t have signed off on his people hiring them. There was just one fly in that very expensive ointment. Having assumed responsibility for the event last minute when the principal of the company, Lady Sarah, had been taken ill, his best friend Niahl’s kid sister, Stacey, had taken over responsibility for running his banquet in Barcelona. And, in the biggest surprise of all, his people had assured him that Stacey was now considered to be the best party planner in the business.

It was five years since he’d last seen Niahl’s sister at another Party Planners event, where she hadn’t exactly filled him with confidence. In fairness, she’d just started work for the company and a lot could happen in five years. On that particular occasion she’d been rushing around trying to help, spilling drinks left right and centre, in what to him, back then, had been typical Stacey. But of course his memories were of a young teenager whom he’d first met when Niahl had invited him home from university to visit their family stud farm. Niahl, Stacey and he had lived and breathed horses, and when he’d seen the quality of the animals their father was breeding, he’d determined to have his own string one day. Today he was lucky enough to be one of the foremost owners of racehorses and polo ponies in the world.

His thoughts soon strayed back to Stacey. He was curious about her, and how the change in her had occurred. She’d always tried to help, and had been slapped down for it at home, so it wasn’t a surprise to him when he heard she’d gravitated towards the hospitality industry. He hoped she’d found happiness and guessed she had. She’d found none at home, where her father and his new wife had treated her like an indentured servant. No matter how hard she’d tried to please, Stacey had always been blamed, and in anyone’s hearing, for the death of her mother in childbirth when she was born. No child should suffer that.

Niahl had told him that as soon as she’d been old enough and the opportunity had presented itself, Stacey had left home. All she’d ever wanted, Niahl added, was to care for people and make them happy, no doubt in the hope that one day someone might appreciate her, as her father never had.

He shrugged as the elevator descended from the penthouse floor and his thoughts continued to run over the past five years. Stacey had obviously gone quite a way in her career, but he wondered about her personal life. He didn’t want to ponder it too deeply. She’d been so fresh and innocent and he couldn’t bring himself to think about her with men. He smiled, remembering her teenage crush on him. He’d never let on that he knew, but it was hard to forget that kiss in the stable when she’d lunged at him, wrapping her arms around his neck like a vice. Touching his lips where stubble was already springing sharp and black, he found the memory was as strong now as it ever had been. The yielding softness of her breasts pressing against the hard planes of his chest had never left his mind. Thinking back on it made him hard. Which was wrong. Stacey Winner was forbidden fruit. Too young, too gauche, too close to home, and a royal argumentative pain in the ass.

Stacey was the reason he’d visited the farm. Supposedly he’d been there to look at the horses he’d longed to buy one day when he’d made some money, but once he’d met her he hadn’t been able to stay away. She’d kept throwing down the gauntlet, and he’d kept picking it up. She’d invigorated him, kept him alive, when the grief that had threatened to overwhelm him had become unbearable. He’d never shared his feelings with her—never shared his feelings with anyone. Nobody had suspected the battle going on inside Lucas except perhaps for Niahl, but Niahl was a good friend whereas Stacey had just liked to torment him.

He wasn’t short of cash now, and could buy all the horses he liked. Some had come from their farm—whatever else he was, Stacey’s father knew his horseflesh—and had gone on to become winners, or to earn fortunes at stud. The tech company Luc had founded in his bedroom as a desperate measure to pay off his parents’ debts went from strength to strength. Money kept pouring in. He couldn’t stop it if he tried.

Determined to support his siblings when their parents had been killed in a tragic accident and the bank had called in his parents’ loans, he’d used an ancient computer to put together a program that traced bloodlines of horses across the world. One programme had led to another until Da Silva Inc had offices in every major capital, but his first love remained horses and the wild foothills of the Sierra Nevada where the animals thrived on his estancia.

As the elevator slowed to a halt, and the steel door slid open with a muted hiss, he stepped out on the ballroom level. He couldn’t help but be aware of the interest he provoked. Da Silva Inc was now a top company. Thanks to his talent for tech, and with desperation driving him forwards, he was the owner of all he surveyed, including this hotel. But it was not his natural habitat. Staring at the glittering scene beyond the grand double doors leading into the ballroom, he wished he were riding the trail, but this lavish banquet was an opportunity for him to thank his staff, and to raise money from the great and good for an array of well-deserving charities. No matter that he was already uncomfortable in his custom-made suit, with the stiff white collar of his shirt cutting into his neck and the black tie he’d fastened while snarling into the mirror strangling him, he would move heaven and earth to make tonight a success. Untying the bow tie, he opened the top button of his shirt and cracked his neck with pleasure. There had to be some compensations for running the show, though he longed for the freedom of the trail and a flat-out gallop.

He scanned the bustling space, but while his eyes clocked mundane details, his mind was fixed on finding Stacey. What differences would five years have made? His people had dealt with the minutiae of the contract and briefing meetings so there’d been no reason for him to get involved. He hoped she was happy. She was certainly successful. But how would she behave towards him? Would she be reserved now she was older and presumably wiser, or would that demon glint still flare in her eyes? Part of him hoped for the latter, but his guests deserved a calm, well-run evening with no drama to ruffle their expensive feathers. He’d called her room, but there’d been no answer. The party was almost due to begin. She should be here… So where was she?

He quartered the ballroom, pacing like a hunting wolf with its senses raw and flaring. Guests were starting to arrive. Curious glances came his way. Some women took an involuntary step back, fearing his reputation, while others, attracted to danger, gave him signals as old as time. They meant nothing to him. His only ambition had ever been to blank his mind to the horror of his parents’ death, and then to care for his siblings. He had no time for romance, and no need of it, either. His business had brought him wealth beyond imagining, which made any and all distractions available, though horses remained the love of his life. A string of high-profile, though ultimately meaningless, affairs were useful in that they allowed him not to dwell too deeply on himself.

As he passed the bar he remembered the last time he and Stacey had met. She’d knocked a drink over his companion by accident, costing him a replacement couture gown. He hadn’t troubled her with the detail, as Stacey had very kindly offered to have the dress cleaned. Naturally that hadn’t suited the woman on his arm at the time, who had seen the incident as an opportunity to add to her greedy haul. It had certainly proved a necessary wake-up call for him. He’d arranged for his PA to deliver the usual pay-off to the woman in the form of an expensive jewel, delivered the next morning, together with a new, far more expensive dress.

Why had fate chosen to put Stacey in his way again?

Or had he put her in his way? His people worked on the finer details of an event, but it was up to him to okay the contract. With a short cynical laugh, he acknowledged that he missed their verbal jousting. No one stood up to him as Stacey did, and he was weary of being fawned over. He craved her stimulating presence, even though she used to drive him crazy with the tricks she played on him at the farm. He missed the looks that passed between them and the electricity that sparked whenever they were close. It was ironic that a man who could buy anything couldn’t buy the one thing he wanted: a few moments of her time.

Money meant nothing to Stacey. She’d proved that on the day he’d bought her favourite horse. He hadn’t realised when her father had offered him the promising colt that the animal had meant so much to Stacey. When transport had arrived to take the horse to his estancia in Spain, he’d offered Stacey the same money he’d paid her father if she would just stop crying. He couldn’t have said anything to annoy her more, and she’d flung everything she could get her hands on at him. It had done him no good at all to point out that the money would pay her college fees.

‘I hate you!’ she’d screamed. ‘You don’t know anything about love. All you care about is money!’ That had hurt because he did know about love. The pain of losing his parents never left him, though he rarely examined that grief, knowing it might swamp him if he did. ‘If you hurt Ludo, I’ll kill you!’ she’d vowed. Staring into Stacey’s wounded green eyes, he’d understood the anguish of someone who relied on a madcap brother and a horse for affection; she was losing one of them, when she couldn’t afford to lose either.

‘Is everything to your satisfaction, Señor Da Silva?’

He swung around to find the hotel manager hovering anxiously behind him. Such was the power Da Silva Inc wielded that however he tried to make things easy for people they literally trembled at the thought of letting him down.

‘If anything falls short in your eyes, Señor Da Silva—’ the manager wrung his hands at the thought ‘—my staff will quickly make it right for you, though I have to say Party Planners has excelled itself. I can’t remember any big event we’ve held here running quite so smoothly.’

‘Thank you for the reassurance, señor,’ Lucas returned politely. ‘I was just thinking the same thing.’ As there was still no sign of Stacey, he asked, ‘The team leader of Party Planners—have you seen her?’

‘Ah, yes, señor. Señorita Winner is in the kitchen checking last-minute details.’

The manager looked relieved that he had finally been of help, and Lucas gave his arm a reassuring pat. ‘You and your staff are top class, and I know you will give the party planners every assistance.’

Why hadn’t she come to find him? He ground his jaw as the manager hurried away. Surely the client was important too?

So thinks a man who hasn’t given Stacey’s whereabouts or well-being a passing thought for the past five years, he mused. And yet now I expect her to dance attendance on me?

Frankly, yes. Da Silva Inc was everyone’s most valuable account. To be associated with his company was considered a seal of quality, as well as a guarantee of future success. She should be thanking him, not avoiding him.

Was that his problem? Or was it picturing Stacey as she might be now, a worldly and experienced woman, socially and sexually confident in any setting?

That might be grating on his tetchy psyche, he conceded grudgingly. She’d always had her own mind, and would no doubt appear when she was ready, and not a moment before. And if he didn’t know what to expect, at least he knew what he wanted.

He wanted the wild child Stacey had been as a teenager, the woman who could be infuriating one minute and then caring and tender the next. He wanted all of her and he wanted her now, for, as frustratingly defiant as Stacey was, she could light up a room. Every other woman present would fall short because of her.

Irritating, impossible to ignore, beautiful, vulnerable Stacey…

And that vulnerability was the very reason he couldn’t have her. She’d been through enough. He was no saint. No comfort blanket, either. He was a hard-bitten businessman with ice where his heart used to live, who only cared for his siblings, his staff, and the charities he supported. Beyond that was a vast, uncharted region he had no intention of exploring.

By the time he reached the kitchen he had convinced himself that it would be better if he didn’t see Stacey. There’d be no chance to stand and chat, and a man of his appetite shouldn’t contemplate toying with the sister of his friend. Instead, he sought distraction in the winter wonderland she had created in the ballroom. A champagne fountain, its glasses seemingly precariously balanced, reached all the way to the mezzanine floor. Ice carvers were putting the finishing touches to their life-sized sculptures of horses and riders, while in another corner there was an ice bar—which perfectly suited his mood—where cocktail waiters defied gravity as they practised tossing their bottles about. Turning, he viewed the circular dance floor around which tables were dressed for a lavish banquet. The best chefs in the world would cook for his guests, and had competed for the honour of being chosen for this privilege. Heavy carved crystal glasses sat atop crisp white linen waiting to be filled with vintage wines and champagne, while a forest of candles lit the scene. His chosen colour scheme of green and white had been executed to perfection. The floral displays were both extravagant and stylish. Wait staff had assembled, and the orchestra was tuning up. An excited tension filled the ballroom, promising a night to remember.

Like a finely bred horse held on a short rein, everything around him was on the point of leaping into action. Except his libido, he conceded with a twist of his lips, which he would stamp on tonight.

Everything was on the point of being ready. Stacey loved this moment just before the starting gun went off. She was still dressed in jeans and a tee shirt, ready to help out wherever she could, but she wanted to be showered and dressed as elegantly as she could to witness the excitement of the guests when they saw the room for the first time, and feel the tension of the hard-working chefs and staff as they waited for service to begin. She found this early atmosphere at any event infectious. It always sent a frisson of anticipation rippling down her spine, though tonight that frisson was more of an earthquake at the thought of seeing Lucas again. She couldn’t wait to prove herself, and show what the team could do. She wanted him to know that she’d made it—perhaps not to his level in the financial sense, but she could do this and, more importantly, she loved doing this. What the Da Silva people couldn’t know was that Lady Sarah, the owner of Party Planners, had been taken ill and the bank was threatening to foreclose, but if Stacey could keep things on an even keel tonight, and secure the next contract with Da Silva, the bank had promised to back off. They wouldn’t lose the Da Silva account, of that she was grimly determined. The team had worked too hard. If anything did go wrong, she would take responsibility.

Coming face to face with the man who’d given her so many sleepless nights when she was a teenager was something else. It should have been easy, as she’d kept track of Lucas through Niahl and through the press. Lucas was frequently pictured with this princess or that celebrity, always looking glorious but elegantly bored. He’d never had much time for glitz, she remembered. Would he be with someone tonight? She tensed at the thought.

She couldn’t bear it.

She had to bear it.

Lucas didn’t belong to her and never had. He was her brother’s friend, and he and Niahl moved in very different circles. Stacey had always been happiest on the ground floor, grafting alongside her co-workers, while Lucas preferred an ivory tower—just so long as there was a stable close by.

Spirits were high when the Party Planners team assembled for a last-minute briefing in the office adjacent to the ballroom. This was a glamorous and exciting occasion, and, even in a packed diary of similar glamorous and exciting occasions, the Da Silva party stood out, mainly because the owner and founder of the company was in the building. There wasn’t a single member of the team who hadn’t heard about Lucas Da Silva, or wondered what he was like in person. His prowess in business was common knowledge, as was his blistering talent on the polo field, together with his uncanny ability to train and bring on winning racehorses. Everyone was buzzing at the thought of seeing him, even from a distance, and that included Stacey.

Would she stand up to him as she had in the past?

Would she toss a drink over his date if he had one?

Resist! That’s just nerves talking.

Or would their client relationship get in the way of all that? The only thing that mattered, she reminded herself firmly, was proving to Lucas that she and the team were the best people for this job.

Her first sight of Lucas Da Silva sucked the air from her lungs. At least he was alone, with no companion in sight. Yet. Whatever she’d been expecting, pictured or imagined, nothing came close to how Luc looked now. Hot back in the day in breeches or a pair of old jeans he was unbelievably attractive in a formal dinner suit. And five years had done him favours. Taller than average, he was even more compelling. Age had added gravitas to his quiver of assets. Dressed impeccably with black diamonds glittering at his cuffs, he’d left one button open on his shirt and wore his bow tie slung around his neck. Only Lucas, she mused with a short, rueful laugh. Built like a gladiator, with shoulders wide enough to hoist an ox, he exuded the type of dangerous glamour that had every woman present attempting to attract his attention. With the exception of Stacey, for whom familiarity had bred frustrated acceptance that Lucas probably still thought of her as the annoying younger sister of his friend.

She recognised the expression of tolerance mixed with tamped-down fire on his face, and knew what had caused it. Lucas was happiest mounted on the strongest stallion, testing the animal, testing himself. This easy life of unsurpassed luxury and entitlement was not for him, not really—he paid lip service to the world into which his tech savvy had launched him. Having said that, he’d look amazing no matter whether his bow tie was neatly tied or hanging loose—probably best wearing nothing at all, though she would be wise not to allow her thoughts to stray in that direction. It was enough to say the pictures in magazines didn’t come close to doing him justice. Power emanated from him. As she watched him work the room, she could imagine sparks of testosterone firing off him like rockets on the fourth of July.

Yes, he was formidable, but she had a job to do. She would welcome him to the event, and be ready to take any criticism he might care to offer, and then act on it immediately. She had to secure that next contract. The annual Da Silva event in the mountains was even bigger than this banquet but when news leaked, as it surely would, that Lady Sarah was ill, would Lucas trust Stacey to take her place?

He had to. She’d make sure of it any way she could.

As the team left to complete their various tasks, Stacey had a moment to think. Her thoughts turned to the man her gaze was following around the ballroom. Forget five years ago when she’d been a blundering intern, trying her best and achieving her worst by spilling a drink down his date, all she could think about was that kiss…that almost kiss, when her feelings had triumphed over her rational mind. Teenage hormones had played a part, but that couldn’t be the whole story or why would she feel now that if she had Lucas boxed in a corner she’d do exactly the same thing? She was a woman, not a flush-faced teen, and she had appetites like everyone else.

She broke off there to go and check that there was enough champagne on ice, with more crates waiting to fill the spaces in the chiller as soon as the first batch had left for the tables. It was inevitable as she worked that she thought about Lucas. He’d been there the day she’d decided to leave home, and had played a large part in her decision. She’d felt very differently about him on that occasion, and tightened her mouth now at the memory. He’d found her in the stable saying goodbye to the colt she’d cared for all its lively, spirited, magical life. She could even remember looking around, heart racing, thinking Lucas had come to tell her that he’d changed his mind and that she could keep Ludo, but instead he’d offered her money. What had hurt even more was that he’d understood so little about her. If he’d thought cold cash could replace a beloved animal, he hadn’t known her at all. Her father had promised he would never sell Ludo. They’d breed from him, he’d said. But he’d lied.

She’d learned later that Lucas hadn’t realised Ludo was her horse when he’d made the offer, but her father had sold him on without even telling her. That had been the straw that broke the camel’s back. She’d been thinking about leaving the restrictions of the farm, and after that there had been no reason to stay. The only way she could ever keep an animal was by funding it herself, and to do that she had to study and gain qualifications. A career was the only route to independence.

She gave those members of the team dealing with the supply of drinks the go-ahead to stack the extra cases of champagne out of the way but close by the chiller ready to reload, and joined them in moving the heavy boxes. Lucas wasn’t to blame for her decision to leave home, she reflected as she got into the rhythm of lift, carry and lower. Actually, she should thank him. This was a great job, and she had fantastic co-workers. Even out of sight of the ballroom the atmosphere was upbeat and positive.

What a contrast to life on the farm, she reflected as she gave everyone their official half-hour notice to the doors opening to the Da Silva guests. Everyone here supported each other and remained upbeat. Whatever challenges they might face, they faced together. She was happy here amongst friends. Her father had never liked her, and his new wife liked Stacey even less. With Ludo gone there had been no reason not to leave the isolated farm. It had been a chance to test herself in the big city, and now she was a professional woman with a job to do, Stacey reminded herself as she hurried back to the ballroom on another mission. She’d do everything she could to keep Lucas happy tonight and Party Planners in business. She’d prove herself to him, in the business sense, that was—not that Lucas had ever shown the slightest interest in any other kind of relationship with her, she reflected wryly.

She was halfway across the dance floor when a member of the team stopped her to say that some of the guests were swapping around the place cards on the tables so they could sit closer to Señor Da Silva.

‘Right,’ Stacey said, firming her jaw. ‘Leave this to me.’ They’d spent hours on the seating plan. A strict order of hierarchy had to be observed at these events, as it was all too easy to cause offence. Her guess was that Lucas wouldn’t care where he sat, but his guests would.

By the time she had set things to rights there was no sign of him. Her stomach clenched with tension, requiring her to silently reinforce the message that when they met she would assume her customary cool, professional persona. It was important to keep on his right side to make sure he didn’t pull the next contract.

Which didn’t mean the right side of his bed, she informed her disappointed body firmly.

CHAPTER TWO

HE BROODED WITH irritation as he caught sight of Stacey hurrying around the ballroom without once glancing his way. Dressed casually, with no make-up on her face and her hair scraped back, she still looked punch-in-the-gut beautiful to him. The run-up to any event was hectic, but that didn’t excuse her not seeking him out. Am I the client, or am I not?

She’s busy. Isn’t that what you want and expect of a party planner in the hour before your guests arrive?

He drew a steadying breath. For once in his charmed life what he wanted and what he could have were facing each other across a great divide. He shrugged. So he’d close that gap.

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.

Cursing beneath his breath, he determined they would spend time together. Admittedly that was difficult for her now, but it wouldn’t always be so.

He was too used to everything being easy, he supposed, to women staring at him with lust in their eyes and dollar signs. Stacey was different. She was a novelty. Novelty was the most valuable possession a wealthy man could have.

Hard luck, he reflected with grim amusement. As far as he could tell, there was nothing in Stacey’s expression but passion for her work, and determination to make tonight a success.

Left to stand and stare as she moved around the glittering ballroom like a rather glamorous automaton on wheels, he ground his jaw and, with an exclamation born of pure frustration, he left to take up his role as host. Seeing Stacey again had roused feelings inside him he wouldn’t have believed himself capable of, and there was only one thing to cure that. And then she turned to stare at him, still with no hint of lust or dollar signs in her eyes, but instead they seemed to say, ‘What do you think of this fabulous setting? Hasn’t the team worked hard?’

Infuriating woman. This wasn’t the farm, and she was no longer the teenager playing tricks on her brother’s friend. Had she forgotten that he was the client, and it was he who was paying the bill? Then, right out of the blue, there it was, the flash of mischief in her eyes, the demon glint he remembered. Shaking his head, he returned that look with a dark, warning glance, but his irritation had melted away.

She rewarded him with a smile so engaging he wanted to have her on the spot. His timing was definitely out. The grand double doors had just opened and his guests were pouring in. Forced to banish his physical reaction to Stacey by sheer force of will, he gave himself a sharp reminder that she had never been in awe of him. He could stand on his dignity as much as he liked and all she would do was smile back.

From the first time Niahl had brought him home to trial the ponies on the farm, Stacey had tested him. Daring him to ride their wildest horse, she would jump down from the fence where she was perched, seemingly uninterested, and walk away when the animal responded to his firm, yet sympathetic hand. She was fearless on horseback, and had often attempted to outride him. ‘Anything’s possible,’ she’d tell him stubbornly as she trotted into the yard after him. ‘I’ll get you next time.’ She never gave up, and became increasingly ingenious when it came to stopping him buying her favourite ponies. ‘You’ll be far too demanding,’ she’d say, blushing because she knew this was a lie. ‘You’ll break their spirit.’ The ponies in question, according to Stacey, were variously winded or lame, and would almost certainly disappoint him in every way. These supposed facts she would state with her big green eyes wide open, and as soon as she got the chance she’d free the animals from their stable and shoo them into the wild, forcing him and her brother to round them up again. Everyone but him had been surprised when she left home. He suspected her father had been relieved. His new wife had made no secret of her relief. She’d never liked Stacey. Perhaps only Lucas and Niahl had appreciated the courage it had taken for Stacey to seek out a new life in the big city when she’d barely travelled more than five miles from the farm.

She’d always loved a challenge. So did he, he reflected as he watched Stacey greet the first of his guests. He leaned back against the wall as she guided the various luminaries to their places. She did this with charm and grace, making his high-tone guests look clumsy. Stacey Winner was as intriguing as the wild ponies he loved to ride. It didn’t hurt that she looked fabulous tonight. Simplicity was everything in his eyes. True glamour meant appreciating what nature had bestowed and making the most of it, and she’d done this to perfection. Compared to Stacey, every woman in the place appeared contrived, overdressed, shrill. They failed to hold his attention, while Stacey, with her gleaming hair and can-do attitude, was everything he’d been waiting for.

And couldn’t have, he reminded himself as his tightening groin ached a warning. Stacey Winner was forbidden fruit. His life was fast-moving with no room for passengers. She was Niahl’s beloved kid sister, and he had no intention of risking his friendship with Niahl.

As if she knew the path his thoughts were taking, Stacey glanced his way, then swung away fast. Was she blushing? Did he affect her as she affected him? Should he care? Only one thing was certain: beneath the professional shell she had developed over the past five years, the same fire burned. She was just better at hiding it.

But uncovering that passion and watching it break free was a pleasure he would never know.

While he’d been studying Stacey, the ballroom had filled up. The smiles on the faces of his guests confirmed what he already knew. Party Planners had done a great job. He returned Stacey’s glance with a shrug and a stare full of irony that said, Well done.

Watch me, the demon glint insisted. I’m not done yet.

Oh, he would. How could he not, when the gown she was wearing displayed every luscious curve, and though her flamboyant red hair had been tamed for the evening it wouldn’t take much to pull out those pins to fist a hank and kiss her neck? The hairstyle flaunted cheekbones he hadn’t even realised existed. Maybe they hadn’t existed five years ago. Maybe a lot of things had changed in five years. He felt a spear of jealousy to think of some man—maybe men—touching her. Which was ridiculous when she would never be his.

Smoothing his hackles back down again, he continued his inspection. It was Stacey’s quiet confidence that impressed him the most, he decided. That and the glaringly obvious—that she was classy and stylish with a particular brand of humour that appealed to him.

Avoiding close contact with Stacey was a must, he accepted with a grim twist to his mouth. His party in the mountains was a no-go if he wanted to keep things platonic between them. He was a man, not a saint.

A fact that was proved the very next moment when he noticed an elderly ambassador place his wizened paw on Stacey’s back. The urge to knock him away was overwhelming, which was ridiculous. He was more in control than that, surely?

Apparently not, he accepted as he strode across the ballroom? She was his. To protect, he amended swiftly, as he would protect any woman in the same situation.

By the time he reached Stacey, she had skilfully evaded the aging satyr and moved on, but no sooner had she extricated herself from one difficult situation than she was confronted by another in the form of a notoriously difficult film star. The prima donna had already laid waste to several junior members of the Party Planners team by the time Stacey reached the tense group. With a quick kind word to her co-workers, she took over, making it clear that anything the woman wanted would be provided. The diva was already seated in the prized central spot where everyone could see and admire her, but there appeared to be something on the table that displeased her. Curious as to what this might be, he drew closer.

‘Remove that disgusting greenery,’ the woman instructed. ‘My people should have informed you that I’m allergic to foliage, and only white roses are acceptable on my table.’

Where exactly would she get white roses at this late stage? he wondered as Stacey soothed the woman, while discreetly giving instructions to a member of her team. Clearly determined to keep everything under control and to protect his other guests, she showed a steely front as she moved quickly into action.

‘Nothing is too much trouble for a VIP everyone is honoured to welcome,’ she assured the star. ‘I will personally ensure that this unfortunate error is put right immediately. In the meantime,’ she added, calling a waiter, ‘a magnum of vintage champagne for our guest. And perhaps you would like to meet Prince Albert of Villebourg sur Mer?’ she suggested to the now somewhat mollified celebrity.

As the diva’s eyes gleamed, he thought, Bravo, Stacey. And bravo a second time, he concluded wryly as an assistant hurried into the ballroom with a florist in tow. Stacey had not only arranged an exclusive photo shoot with the prince for her difficult guest, but had arranged for the orchestra to play the theme tune from the diva’s latest film, and while this was happening the original centrepiece was being replaced by one composed entirely of white roses.

A triumph, Señorita Winner! He was pleased for her. But—was he imagining it or had Stacey just stared at him with a ‘Now what have you got to say for yourself?’ smile? Whatever he thought he knew about Stacey, he realised he had a lot to learn, and she had made him impatient to fill in the gaps.

There would always be hitches, Stacey accepted as she continued with her duties. Solving those hitches was half the fun of the job. It pleased her to find answers, and to make people happy. And not just because Señor Iron Britches was in the room, though Luc rocked her world and made her body yearn each time their stares clashed. Formal wear suited him. Emphasising his height and the width of his shoulders, it gilded the darkly glittering glamour he was famous for. Though Luc looked just as good in a pair of banged-up jeans…or those shots of him in polo magazines wearing tight-fitting breeches… Better not think about tight-fitting breeches, or she wouldn’t get any work done. She had better things to do than admire a client’s butt.

In her defence, not every client had a butt like Lucas Da Silva.

CHAPTER THREE

SHE WASN’T GETTING away from him this time. He stepped in front of Stacey the first time their paths crossed. ‘Señorita Winner, I’m beginning to think you’re avoiding me.’

She looked at him wide-eyed. ‘Why would I do that?’

Her manner was as direct as ever, and held nothing more than professional interest. Opening her arms wide, she explained, ‘Forgive me. We’ve been very busy tonight, but I hope you’re pleased with what we’ve achieved so far?’

‘I am pleased,’ he admitted. ‘You’ve dealt with some difficult guests, defusing situations that could have disrupted other people’s enjoyment of the evening.’

Stacey shrugged. ‘I want everyone to enjoy themselves whoever they are. We all have different expectations.’

‘Indeed,’ he agreed, staring deep into her eyes.

She searched his as if expecting to find mockery there, and, finding none, she smiled. ‘Anyway, thank you for the compliment. I’ll accept it on behalf of the team. But now, if you’ll excuse me, I have one more thing to check before the banquet begins.’

‘Which is?’ he queried.

‘I want to make sure that no one else has swapped around their place card to sit closer to you.’

He laughed. ‘Am I so much in demand?’

‘You know you are,’ she said with one of her classic withering looks.

‘But not with you, I take it?’

‘I don’t know what you mean,’ she said, but she couldn’t meet his eyes.

‘Forget it.’ He made her a mock bow. ‘And thank you for protecting me.’

‘My pleasure,’ she assured him, on the point of hurrying away.

‘So, where am I sitting?’ he asked to keep her close a little longer.

‘Next to me.’ She held his surprised stare in an amused look of her own. ‘I thought you’d like that. You don’t have a companion tonight, and I’ve seated the princess on your other side. I’ll be on hand to run errands.’

‘You? Run errands?’ he queried suspiciously.

‘Yes. Like a PA, or an assistant,’ she said in a matter-of-fact tone.

‘And you don’t mind that?’

‘Why should I? I’m here to work. If you’d rather I sat somewhere else—’

‘No,’ he said so fast he startled both of them. ‘I’m happy with the arrangements as they are.’

‘Then…’ She looked at him questioningly. ‘If you’ll excuse me?’

‘Of course,’ he said with a slight dip of his head. ‘Don’t let me keep you.’

She didn’t see Lucas again until everyone was seated for the banquet and she finally took her place beside him. ‘I was only joking about sitting down,’ she explained as a waiter settled a napkin on her lap with a flourish. ‘I wasn’t sure if you had someone in mind to take this place, and now I don’t want to leave an empty seat beside you.’

‘That wouldn’t look good,’ Luc agreed. ‘Is that the only reason you came to sit next to me?’ He gave her a long, sideways look.

‘I can’t think of any other reason,’ she said, though she knew she had to broach the subject of Lady Sarah’s leave of absence.

‘You impressed me tonight.’

‘You mean the team impressed you tonight,’ she prompted.

‘I mean you.’

Luc’s tone was soft and husky and he held her gaze several beats too long. She took advantage of the moment to ask him, ‘Does that mean the next contract’s secure?’

He frowned. ‘Is there something you’d like to tell me?’

He’d already heard, she guessed. Lucas hadn’t climbed the greasy pole of success without doing his research. She guessed he’d brought up her CV to check on her rise through the company, and would know the latest news on Party Planners, including the fact that Lady Sarah was ill. If she knew anything at all about Lucas Da Silva, she was prepared to bet he was on the case. ‘Only that Lady Sarah is unwell and has asked me to run this function as well as the next for you. Do you have a problem with that?’

‘A problem?’ Luc dipped his chin to fix her with a questioning stare.

‘The team has turned itself inside out for you, and will happily do so again.’

‘And I will thank them,’ he said.

‘But?’

‘You want assurances here and now?’

Before she could answer, a member of her team made a discreet gesture that would take Stacey away from the table. ‘If you’ll excuse me, I have to go.’

‘You’re not even going to stay long enough to test the food?’

‘I trust your chefs.’

‘That’s very good of you,’ Lucas commented dryly.

‘I trust you,’ she said, touching his arm to drive the point home.

Immediately, she wished she hadn’t done that. It was as if she’d plugged her hand into an electric socket. Her fingers were actually tingling. What she should be asking herself was whether Lucas would trust her enough to let her run an event as important to his company as the annual escape to the mountains. To make matters worse, it now seemed their old connection was as strong as ever, and she couldn’t resist teasing him before leaving the table. ‘Would you like me to deliver the happy news to one of the placecard-swapping starlets that a seat has become available next to their host?’

‘You’ll do no such—!’

Damn the woman! She’d gone! And with a smile on her mouth that promised she could still give as good as she got. This was like being back on the farm, where for every trick Stacey played on him he paid her back. His hackles were bristling. And his groin was in torment. He huffed a humourless laugh. Perhaps he deserved this, deserved the demon glint in her eyes, deserved Stacey.

He was still mulling this over when a young woman he vaguely recognised from the polo circuit approached the empty seat next to him, and, with what she must have imagined was a winsome expression on her avaricious face, commented, ‘You look lonely.’

‘Do I?’ Standing as good manners demanded, he waited until she’d sat down and he’d introduced her to a handsome young diplomat in the next chair. ‘I was distracted,’ he explained, swiping a hand across his forehead. ‘And unfortunately, I’ve just been called away. Please forgive me.’ He summoned a waiter. ‘Champagne for my guests.’

He left the table with relief. Whatever kind of spin he’d put on saving Stacey from the excesses playing on a loop in his mind had evaporated. They couldn’t leave things here. Confrontation between them was a given. Why try to avoid it? He knew when to pull back, didn’t he? Maybe not, he reflected as he crossed the dance floor in search of the one woman he would consider dancing with tonight. His primal self had roared to the surface of his outwardly civilised veneer, and it wouldn’t take much to tip that over into passion. Stacey had given him more than enough reason. He wouldn’t sleep until they’d had it out.

Lucas had left the table. There was no sign of him. Had she offended him, thereby ruining Party Planners’ chances of securing the next contract? She would never forgive herself if that were the case. The couples on the dance floor were thinning out, but it would be a long time until she was off duty, because Stacey would stay until the last member of staff had left. There were always stragglers amongst the guests who couldn’t take the hint that the people who had worked so hard to give them a wonderful time would like to go home at some point. The band had been hired to play for as long as people wanted to dance and, while both wait staff and musicians looked exhausted, none of the guests had taken the hint. There was only one thing for it. Politely and firmly, she told those who seemed hardly to know where they were any longer that the next shift would soon be arriving to set up for breakfast, and that the cleaners needed to come in first, and then she stood by ready to shepherd every last partygoer out of the room.

That done, she returned. She’d helped to tidy up the kitchen, and now she made herself useful by checking beneath tables for forgotten items. A surprising number of things were left behind at well-lubricated parties.

Another job completed, she crawled out backwards from the last table. Straightening up, still on hands and knees, she groaned as she placed her hands in the small of her back.

‘Can I help you?’

She jerked around so fast at the sound of Lucas’s voice she almost fell over.

‘You all right?’ he asked, lunging forward to catch her before she hit the ground. Shaking him off, she gave him one of her looks. ‘I see nothing has changed. Still the same accident-prone Stacey,’ he suggested as she staggered to her feet.

‘Only when you’re around. You jinx me.’

‘Can I help?’

‘No, thank you. Just put a safe distance between us and I’ll be fine.’

‘As always,’ he observed. ‘The status quo must be maintained—Stacey is fine.’

‘I am fine,’ she insisted with an edge of tiredness in her tone.

‘Too tired to keep your professional mask on?’

‘Something like that,’ she admitted with a sigh.

He laughed, and maybe she was overtired, because the sight of that sexy mouth slanting attractively made her want to stop fighting and be friends.

‘You’ve done enough tonight,’ he stated firmly as she looked around for something else to do.

‘It’s my job.’

‘Your job is to dance with me,’ Luc argued to her astonishment. ‘Unless you decide to blatantly ignore a client request, in which case I’ll have no alternative other than to report you for being uncooperative.’

‘You are joking?’

‘Am I? Are you willing to take that risk?’

If this had been ten years ago, she would have challenged him all the way down the line, but she was sure she could see a glint of amusement in his eyes. And why was she fighting anyway? ‘You’re going to report me because I won’t dance with you?’ she suggested in a very different tone.

One sweeping ebony brow lifted. ‘Sounds fair to me.’

‘Everything you say sounds fair to you,’ she pointed out, but she was smiling. Luc did that to her. He warmed her when she was in her grumpiest mood, and tonight, looking at him, grumpy was the furthest thing from her mind. ‘You are definitely the most annoying man in the world,’ she told him.

As well as the most exciting.

‘And, thanks for the offer, but I have a lovely placid life and I intend to keep it that way.’

‘Boring, do you mean?’ Luc suggested, thumbing a chin shaded with stubble as if it were morning and he’d just got out of bed.

‘I do not mean boring,’ she countered, thoroughly thrown by the way her mind was working. ‘I like things just the way they are.’

Luc sucked in his cheeks and the expression in his eyes turned from lightly mocking to openly disbelieving. ‘You don’t stay still long enough to know what placid means.’ And then he shrugged and half turned, as if he meant to go.

She felt like a hunted doe granted an unexpected reprieve. Badly wanting to prolong the encounter, she was forced to admit that Luc scared her. They’d always had a love-hate relationship: love when they were with the animals they both cared so deeply for, and hate when she saw the easy way Luc wound everyone around his little finger, especially women, forcing teenage Stacey to grit her teeth and burn. How could she not appear gauche compared to the type of sophisticated woman he dated? If she took her clothes off, would she measure up, or would Luc mock her as he used to when she tried to outride him? She couldn’t bear it. And…if they had sex—heaven help her for even thinking that thought—she would surely make a fool of herself. Having made it her business to be clued up where most things were concerned, short of doing it, it wasn’t possible to be clued up about sex, especially with a six-foot-six rugby-playing brother standing in the wings to make sure no half-decent man got near her. When she’d left home for college she hadn’t found anyone to match up to Lucas, and the few dates she’d been on had put her off sex for life. Who knew that not everyone showered frequently, or had feet as sexy as she had discovered Luc’s were when the three of them used to go swimming in the river? And he wouldn’t have patience with a novice. Why should he, when the women she’d seen him with were so confident and knowing? Was it likely he’d give lessons? Hardly, she reflected as she followed his gaze around the room.

‘Staff shouldn’t be working this late,’ he said, turning to her. ‘That goes for you too. I’m going to send everyone home.’

‘Even me?’ she challenged lightly.

‘No. You’re going to stay and dance. Don’t move,’ he warned as he went to give the order.

Stacey had done her research and knew Lucas owned this hotel together with several more. He gave the word and came back to her. Everyone apart from a lone guitarist left the ballroom. When Luc returned, he explained that the musician had asked if he could stay on, as he had a flight to catch, and there was no point in going to bed.

‘He told me that he’d rather unwind by playing the melodies he loved than spending a few hours in his room, and I get that.’ Lucas shrugged. ‘I told him to stay as long as he likes. He’s not disturbing anyone. Certainly not us,’ he added with a long, penetrating look.

Us?

Okay. Get over that. Had she forgotten Luc’s love of music? He used to stream music for her to work to at the farmhouse. Maybe she’d added a special significance to the lyrics of the tunes he chose, but the music had helped her escape into another world where there were no grimy floors and dirty dishes. ‘I’d welcome anything that drowns out the sound of men’s voices,’ she would say.

And now?

‘Do you always get your way?’ she asked, biting her lip to curb a smile.

‘Invariably,’ Luc admitted, straight-faced. And then he laughed. They both laughed, and what they shared in those few unguarded moments was everything she could wish for: warmth, a past that needed no explanation, and acceptance that they’d both changed, and that life was better now.

‘So, why aren’t you in bed?’ she asked cheekily as the guitarist ended one tune and segued into another.

‘I should be,’ Luc agreed, but in a way that made her cheeks warm, and suddenly all she could think about was that thwarted kiss all those years ago. Would he push her away if she kissed him now?

‘Come on—tell me why you’re here.’

‘To see you,’ he admitted with a wicked look.

‘Me?’ She laughed, a little nervously now. It always amazed her how the old, uncertain Stacey could return to haunt her at emotionally charged moments like this.

‘Why are you so surprised?’ Luc asked, bursting her bubble. ‘I’m the host of a party you planned. Don’t you usually have a debriefing session?’

‘Not over a dance,’ she said.

He shrugged. ‘Why not?’

‘We’ve never danced together before.’

‘Let’s start a new tradition.’

His eyes were dark and smouldering, while she was most certainly not looking her best after the busiest of evenings. Was he mocking her? It wouldn’t be the first time. They’d mocked each other constantly when she was younger. ‘Me dance with you?’ she queried suspiciously.

Luc’s black stare swept the ballroom. ‘Do you see anyone else asking?’

‘This had better not be a pity dance,’ she warned.

‘A pity dance?’ he queried.

‘Yes, you know, when Niahl used to dance with me whenever I attended those balls you two used to rip up together?’

‘The cattle markets?’ Lucas frowned as he thumbed his stubble.

‘That’s what you called them back then,’ Stacey agreed.

‘What would you call groups of hopefuls with one end in sight?’

‘Sheep to the slaughter’

He laughed. ‘Of course you would.’

‘I was a poor little wallflower,’ she insisted, pulling a tragic face. ‘No one ever asked me to dance.’

‘I wouldn’t call you a wallflower. You were more of a thistle. No one wanted to dance with you because you scowled all the time. People want happy partners to have fun with.’

‘The type of fun it’s better to avoid,’ she suggested.

Lucas didn’t answer but his expression said that was a matter of opinion.

‘Anyway, I didn’t scowl,’ she insisted, ‘and if I had smiled as you suggest, Niahl would have gone ballistic. He never let anyone near me.’

‘Quite right,’ Lucas agreed, pretending to be stern while the corner of his mouth was twitching. ‘Your brother never liked to see you sitting at a loss, so he danced with you. I don’t see anything wrong with that.’

Stacey rolled her eyes. ‘Every girl’s dream is to dance with her brother, while he scans the room looking for someone he really wants to be with.’

‘You’re not at a loss now,’ Lucas said as he drew her to her feet.

‘It appears not,’ Stacey answered. She was amazed by how calm she could sound while her senses were rioting from Lucas’s firm grip alone. And now their faces were very close. She turned away. ‘I’m sure there must be something I should be doing instead of dancing.’

‘Yes,’ Lucas agreed. His wicked black eyes smiled a challenge deep into hers. ‘I plan to discuss that as we dance.’

CHAPTER FOUR

SHE WOULD DANCE and keep a sensible distance.

Lucas was so big, was that even possible?

Even his mouth was sexy, and, like a magnet, was drawing her in. And then there was his scent: warm, clean man, laced with citrus and sandalwood. Damn him for making her feel as if anything he had to say or do was fine by her. She should have stayed until she’d checked every table for lost items, made sure the staff had all gone to bed, and then departed for her room, too tired to think about Lucas.

Where she would continue her lonely existence? She’d made lots of friends since leaving home, but they had their own lives, and carving a village out of a city as big and diverse as London wasn’t easy. She had achieved her goal in maintaining her independence and progressing her career, but there was a price to pay for everything, and romance had passed her by. It would have been safer not to dance with Lucas, but he was an anchor who reminded her of good things in her past. Teasing and tormenting him, laughing with him, caring for the animals they loved side by side, had bred an intimacy between them went beyond sex. There was a time when she’d rather have had Lucas tell her that he admired her horsemanship than her breasts, and that was still partly true today. In her fantasies, being held safe in his arms was always the best option, but this wasn’t safe. His hands on her body as they danced and his breath on her cheek couldn’t remotely be called safe. It was a particular type of torture that made her want more.

Thankfully, she was stronger than that. ‘So we’ve danced,’ she declared as if her body wasn’t shouting hallelujah, while her sensible mind begged her to leave. ‘It’s time for me to go to bed.’

‘No,’ he argued flatly. ‘You can’t leave now. It would be rude to the musician. He might think we don’t like his music.’

She glanced at the guitarist, who was absorbed in his own world. ‘Do you think he’d notice?’

Luc’s lips pressed down as he followed her gaze. ‘I’m sure he would. Do you want to risk it?’

‘No,’ Stacey admitted. The man had played non-stop during the banquet. Who could deny him his downtime?

‘Good,’ Lucas murmured, bringing her close.

He’d turned her insides to molten honey with nothing more than an intimate tone in his voice, and the lightest touch of his hands. The sultry Spanish music clawed at her soul, forcing her to relax, and, as so often happened when she relaxed, she thought about the mother she’d lost before even knowing her, and those long, lonely nights of uncertainty when she was a child, asking herself what her mother would have advised Stacey to do to please everyone the following day. She’d failed so miserably on that front, and had begun to wonder if she would ever get it right.

‘You’re crying.’ Drawing his head back, Lucas stared at her with surprise. ‘Have I upset you?’

‘No. Of course you haven’t.’ Blinking hard, she shook her head and pasted on a smile.

He captured a tear from her cheek and stared at it as if he’d never seen one before. ‘Perhaps you hate dancing with me,’ he suggested in what was an obvious attempt to lighten the mood.

‘I don’t hate it at all,’ she said quickly, wishing her mouth would stop trembling. This wasn’t like her. She always had her deepest feelings well under control.

‘Then what is the matter, Stacey?’

When Lucas talked to her with compassion in his tone he made things worse. She badly wanted to sob out loud now, give vent to all those tears she’d held back as a child. ‘I really need to go to bed,’ she said, sounding tetchy, which was infinitely better than sounding pathetic. ‘I’m tired.’

‘You really need to dance,’ Lucas argued, tightening his grip around her waist. ‘You know what they say about all work and no play?’

‘Success?’ she suggested with bite.

He refused to be drawn into an argument and huffed a laugh. ‘Even I take time out from work, and so should you.’

Perhaps he was right, she conceded. Being in his arms was so different from what she’d expected that the urge to make the moment last was stronger than ever. She’d been waiting for this all her adult life, and even if the guitarist was doing his best to make her cry, perhaps she needed that too. But not tonight. Tonight was a time for celebration, not tears.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘It’s just that this tune makes me sad.’

‘It’s good to let your feelings out,’ Lucas observed, ‘and I’m glad you feel you can do that with me.’

‘I do,’ she murmured.

He must have given the guitarist a subtle directive, as the mood of the music had changed from unbearably affecting to a passionate, earthy rhythm. They fell into step and began to dance in a way that was far more intimate than before, and as the music climbed to a crescendo it seemed only one outcome was possible. Enjoying Lucas was dangerous because it was addictive. It made her want him in a way that was wholly inappropriate for someone hoping to make an impression on a client.

‘I should go.’ She pulled away while she still had the strength to do so.

‘You should stay,’ Lucas argued, and as the guitarist continued to weave his spell, Lucas brought her close enough for their two bodies to become one. She nestled her face against his chest as if she belonged there, as if there had never been any conflict between them, no gulf at all, as if this was how it should be, as if it was right and good.

Dancing with Stacey was harder than he’d thought. Not because she couldn’t dance, but because she could; because she was intuitive and could second-guess his every move. Stacey was no longer a vulnerable tomboy on the brink of entering an adult world, but a woman who knew her own mind. She’d looked exhausted when she’d finished work, but there was no sign of tiredness now. If anything, she seemed energised as she moved to the music like a gypsy queen. Though she’d looked close to tears when the music had affected her, determination had since returned to her eyes. And fire. She wanted him, and she wasn’t afraid to let him know it.

The ache in his groin was unsustainable. He was seeing her as she was, not as she had been. The urge to feel her naked body under his, to drown in her wildflower scent, and to fist her thick, silky hair as he buried his face in her neck, her breasts—

‘Why don’t you do it?’ she challenged softly.

‘Why don’t I do what?’

‘Kiss me?’ she stated bluntly.

She was hyped up on success and impending exhaustion, which meant treating what she said with restraint. In the morning she’d be his friend’s little sister again, and would wake up with regrets. ‘I’ve got more sense—’

He hadn’t expected such a violent reaction. Springing from his arms, she speared him with a glance, then stalked away. Halfway across the ballroom her stride faltered. Turning to face him, she surprised him even more with an expression that was pure invitation.

Lucas was following and she knew that look on his face. It was the same look as when he chased down a ball in polo, or when a shot of him appeared in the broadsheets after he’d closed some mammoth deal. He was a man on a mission and she was that mission. But they’d meet on her terms and on a ground of her choosing. She’d waited so long for this that her mind was made up. If they only had one night together, she was going to make it the best night of her life. Her body was on fire. He’d done that. Her senses had never been keener. Where Lucas was concerned, she’d been honing them for years. Each erogenous zone she possessed had been teased into the highest state of awareness.

Walking into the now-deserted office that she and the team had been using during the banquet, she left the door ajar. Luc walked in behind her and closed the door securely, before leaning back with a brooding expression on his dangerously shadowed face. ‘It’s been a long time,’ he observed in a drawl as lazy as treacle dripping off a spoon. ‘And now this?’

She started to say something but thought better of it. No explanations. No excuses. No regrets. The tension in the room was rising. Their gazes were locked. There could be no turning back. The room was so quiet she could hear them breathing. It was as if, having waited all this time, they were balanced on the edge of an abyss, and when they plummeted over that edge they’d both be changed for ever.

‘It has been a long time,’ she agreed, starting to walk towards him. ‘Far too long, Lucas.’

There was an answering spark in Luc’s eyes. She was no longer a teenager, or a red-faced intern crushed with embarrassment because she’d ruined his date’s dress, or a tomboy arguing the toss with her brother’s friend; she was a woman and he was a man. On that level, at least, there was no divide between them.

‘Are you sure you know what you’re doing?’ he said as she stood on tiptoe to cup his face.

‘In some ways yes, and in others no,’ she admitted truthfully. ‘Some might say I’m seducing you.’

‘Some?’ he queried. ‘I’m only interested in what you have to say.’

Black eyes plumbed her soul. ‘I want you,’ she admitted, as if her whole life had been leading up to this moment. ‘For one night.’

‘One whole night,’ he said, staring down with a glint of humour colouring his black stare. ‘Half an hour ago you were determined to go to bed.’

‘I still want to go to bed,’ she whispered.

Luc hummed as he glanced around the office. ‘But not here, surely?’

‘Why not?’ All the old doubts came crowding in. Was that a genuine comment, or was Lucas looking for a way out?

‘Because I don’t see a bed,’ he suggested dryly.

He made her decision easy when he brushed her lips with his. ‘A nightcap?’ she suggested. ‘Somewhere a little more comfortable than this?’

He didn’t answer right away. Stacey’s intention was clear. If he accepted there could only be one outcome. He’d resisted temptation where Stacey was concerned for so long he craved sex like a man craving water in a desert. But there was the added complication of his upcoming mountain event. Working side by side would bring them closer still and Stacey could never be some casual fling.

His hunger combined with Stacey’s intention to move things forward fast, and in a very different direction, triumphed over any hesitation he might have had. There was nothing safe about entering into the type of situation she was proposing, since he was a man who would happily entertain risk on the polo field, and sometimes even in business, but who would never risk his heart.

Without another word they headed for his penthouse with Stacey in the lead. If she’d been holding his hand, she’d be dragging him. Linking their fingers, he ushered her into his private elevator, which, conveniently, they found waiting on the ballroom level. The instant the doors slid open he backed her inside. Boxing her into a corner, he linked fingers with her other hand. Raising both hands above her head, he pinned her with the weight of his body so he could tease her lips and torment them both as the small steel cocoon rocketed skywards.

Her hands felt wonderfully responsive in his as she made sounds in her throat like a kitten. There was nothing juvenile about her body. That was all woman.

Teasing her lips until she parted them, he kissed her with the pent-up hunger of years. He’d seen this woman grow and endure, survive, and eventually thrive, so this kiss was more than a kiss, it was a rite of passage for both of them.

She whimpered as he mapped her cheeks, her neck, her shoulders, and finally her breasts with his hands, and when he tormented her erect nipples with his thumbnails, she cried out, ‘Yes… Oh, yes, please…’

‘Soon,’ he promised as the elevator sighed to a halt.

He swung her into his arms the moment the doors slid open. It felt so good. She felt so good. Warm and scented with the wildflower perfume he would always associate with Stacey, she was so much smaller than he was, and yet strong in every way. She was perfect, and he had never felt more exhilarated than when he dropped kisses on her face and neck for the sheer pleasure of feeling her tremble in his arms, and hearing her moan with impatience to be one with him.

He pressed his thumb against the recognition pad at the entrance to the penthouse suite and the door swung open.

‘Crazy,’ she exclaimed as he carried her into the steel, glass and pale wood hallway. ‘How the other half lives,’ she added, glancing around.

There was barely a chance to lower her to her feet in his bedroom before the storm. He couldn’t wait a moment longer and yanked her close as she reached for him. It was like two titans clashing, both equally fierce. The urgent need for physical satisfaction clawed at their senses, demanding they do something about it fast. Stacey growled with impatience as he unzipped her dress and let it drop to the floor in a pool of silk.

They both tugged at her thong.

‘Let me,’ she insisted.

He answered the argument by ripping the flimsy lace and casting the remains aside. As he carried her to the bed she was still kicking off her shoes. Papers and files littered the cover so he swept it clear, before laying her down. Discarded jeans, files, a laptop, and a briefcase tumbled to the floor, but he cared for nothing beyond the fact that Stacey’s eyes were black, and her lips were swollen from his kisses.

‘I want you,’ she gasped as he shrugged off his jacket. ‘Be quick,’ she insisted.

Hooking a thumb into the back collar of his shirt, he tugged it over his head. Her sweeping glance took in his torso and he could only suppose it passed her test as she moistened her lips and reached for him. ‘Don’t make me wait,’ she warned.

Stacey didn’t wait. Even he couldn’t have freed his belt buckle that fast.

Whipping Luc’s belt out of its loops, she exclaimed with triumph. With another growl, she freed the top button of his trousers and attended to his zipper. That didn’t take much persuasion. It flew down as he exploded out of it. Curbing the exclamation of shock that sprang to her lips, she recognised what she’d been missing.

Having never seen anything on this scale before, she took a moment to recalibrate her thinking. Her previous experience was confined to fumbling in the back of a car, or unsuccessful student couplings where both parties were clueless, so this was very different—but then Luc was very different. He was the only man she’d ever really wanted, and here they were.

Wild with need, she drew her knees up and before he had a chance to react she had wrapped them around his waist.

‘Yes! Please! Now!’ she commanded fiercely, her fingers biting into his shoulders.

‘But gently,’ Luc insisted.

‘No!’ she fired back, fighting against him trying to dial down the rush. The reality of being hugely inexperienced compared to Luc wasn’t relevant. All that mattered was that he wanted her, really wanted her, and if that only lasted for a few moments, a minute or an hour, she’d take it.

‘Yes. Gently,’ he said on a steady breath that she was sure was intended to soothe her. ‘I don’t want to hurt you. I’m…big.’

A cry flew from her throat. Big? Luc wasn’t big, he was enormous, but as he dipped and stroked, and then retreated, her confidence grew. ‘I’m okay…okay!’ she gasped when he pulled back to check she was all right, but it was too late; Luc already had his suspicions.

‘Are you a virgin?’ He frowned.

‘Why?’ Her fingers tightened on his shoulders. There were so many emotions colliding inside her, she didn’t know what she was, only that Luc was holding her close and she wanted the moment to last a little longer. ‘Why do you ask?’

His look was enough. They knew each other too well for her to lie to him. ‘I’m not a virgin. Technically,’ she added, red-faced.

Luc’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. ‘Technically? What does that mean?’

‘I’m not intact down there,’ she blurted.

‘Are you sure you want to go ahead with this?’

‘Are you sure?’ she countered, and, with desperation driving her, she tilted forward to make the outcome inevitable. ‘You see,’ she said in a tone to make light of things, while her mind was spinning as her body battled to accept a new and very different feeling of being occupied, ‘I’m in charge.’

‘I don’t think so, princess.’

A cry of sheer surprise escaped her as Luc cupped her buttocks in his big hands, lifting her into an even more receptive position. Was she ready for this? Could she take him? Could she take all of him?

Encouraging her with husky words in his own language, Luc rotated his hips to tease her with the promise if not the pressure where she needed it most. Alarm manifested itself in a cry as he sank a little deeper, but then he pulled back. Luc knew exactly what he was doing, and gradually she began to relax. Teasing made her pleasure grow until it became indescribably extreme. Her doubts and fears had disappeared by this time, and all she felt was hunger for more, and then his hands worked some magic, and another type of alarm struck her. ‘I can’t—’

‘You don’t have to, princess…’

The word ‘wait’ was lost in her screams of shocked delight. Release came so suddenly she wasn’t ready for it. If it hadn’t been for Luc keeping her still to make sure she enjoyed every single beat of pleasure, the cataclysmic waves racking her body might have been less intense. As it was, all she could do was allow them to consume her.

‘You’ve waited a long time for that,’ he remarked, dropping kisses on her mouth as her outburst slowly quietened to rhythmical moans of satisfaction.

‘Perhaps I have,’ she agreed groggily, ‘but I won’t admit as much to you.’

‘And now you want more?’ he guessed.

‘I’ll admit that much,’ she agreed. ‘But what about you?’

‘I can wait.’ He frowned. ‘And shouldn’t you be safely asleep by now?’

‘I warned you not to tease.’ Summoning up what little strength remained, she balled her hand into a fist and pummelled it weakly against his shoulder.

‘You’re going to delay that sleep and make time for me?’ Luc suggested with a wicked grin tugging at one corner of his mouth.

‘I suppose that depends on how efficient you are,’ she gasped out, as if she could ever pretend that this feeling of being one was an everyday experience.

Throwing his head back, Luc laughed. ‘I can be efficient. Shall I prove it?’

‘What do you think?’

‘Right now? I prefer actions to thinking.’

She felt warmth flood her veins, knowing they could lie together in perfect harmony, talking and trusting, and—

She must not get too heavily involved. Past experience of trying to give love where it wasn’t wanted had not gone well.

‘Relax,’ he murmured, staring into her eyes to gauge her pleasure in a way that made her feel as if she was the most important thing in the world to him in those moments. It was as if she were standing on the top of a mountain, and no one but him could push her off.

Drawing back, Luc stared down, as though he had to be sure, and then, seeming to have made his decision, he firmed his jaw in a way that made her shudder with desire. He took her slowly and deeply to the hilt. He was so big it was shocking, but wonderful too, and all he had to do was rotate his hips for her to lose control again.

Her pleasure was short-lived, because this time when her screams had quietened Luc said the one thing that could bring her round as fast as if he’d dashed a bucket of ice-cold water in her face. ‘I only wish I could make more time for you,’ he observed with a concerned look.

The bottomless pit that opened up in front of her this time had nothing to do with the promise of pleasure. It held only the prospect of being alone again. Of course her rational mind accepted that Lucas led a very busy life, but what had been rational between them up to now? Somehow in the throes of passion she’d forgotten he had a job to do and so did she, and that their paths through life were very different.

Sensing the drop in her mood, he did everything he could to reassure her. Kissing her, he soothed her with long, caring strokes. ‘I’ll see you later…’

‘Perhaps you will,’ she agreed as he withdrew carefully.

Regret was a double-edged sword. Whatever Stacey felt now or in the future, this was her first time, so he couldn’t begrudge a defensive comment. He’d taken the experience with a pleasure so deep and strong, it would fight bitterly, possibly for the rest of his life, with the knowledge that he had nothing to offer her long-term.

Stacey doubted Lucas would make a point of seeing her later. His last glance in her direction might have been one of conflicted regret, or maybe he’d just given her her marching orders. Which hurt like hell when she had given him the only part of her she had never wanted to give to another living soul. But the facts could not be disputed. ‘I’ll see you later’ was the type of thing people said to each other when they didn’t want to firm up a date, let alone set a time for another meeting. She’d see him again in the mountains, where it would be all business.

Maybe if she’d been a different person she would have come straight out with it and asked him, Do you want to see me again? But the old doubts were never far away.

What made her think Luc wanted anything more than a pleasurable tussle in bed to relax and prepare him for sleep after the banquet? Did she flatter herself that she could hold anyone’s interest for longer than it took to give them what they wanted?

Everything had changed, and nothing, she reflected as images of her father and stepmother mocking her attempts to please them slipped unbidden into her mind.

CHAPTER FIVE

STEPPING INTO THE empty elevator on the penthouse level before dawn on the night after the banquet, which she had spent with Luca, was an eerie experience. She’d left him glued to his monitor as he responded to emails from across the world. He had an early-morning meeting, he’d told her, so she should get on.

‘Oh, okay, then,’ she’d said, realising she’d expected something more—a peck on the cheek… Something… Anything.

Pulling herself together, she’d headed out.

It was a special time in the hotel before the morning rush began. The building seemed empty, but that was an illusion as deceptive as Stacey’s belief that Luc must feel something after they’d spent the night together. She had no regrets. It had seemed fated somehow. There was no one in the world she would rather have shared that experience with, but Luc had barely looked up when she’d left.

As the elevator dropped like a stone, thinking about how much she believed she’d shared with him, made her throat tighten. Gritting her jaw, she resolved to pull herself together. She had to get over it, and get over him. When she arrived in the mountains she wanted everything to run smoothly, which meant showing no sign of personal distress. She was his party organiser and Luc was the host. And that was all they were to each other.

Thinking back over the night it was fair to say Luc had given no indication that he wanted to see her again, and neither had she. She’d taken a shower. He’d taken a shower. Separately. He’d dressed. She’d prepared for the walk of shame, donning her evening gown, and shunning Luc’s offer of a robe before heading back to her room to change. The choice between towelling and silk was easy when she no longer cared.

Tears came when she least expected them. Her emotions were all over the place, Stacey accepted as she braced her balled fists against cold, unyielding steel and willed the doors to open so she could step out into a new day and make a better job of it. Squeezing her eyes tightly shut, she tried to understand why, after getting everything she’d ever wanted with Luc last night—everything she had thought she wanted—it still wasn’t nearly enough.

His penthouse had never felt empty before, but lacking Stacey’s vibrant presence it was just another hotel room. Having showered, he slipped into sweats, and began pacing the sleek, Scandi-style sitting room overlooking Barcelona. The astonishing sights were lost on him. Even the sun shooting its rays above a distant horizon meant nothing to him. He’d never felt like this after making love to a woman. Truthfully, he’d never felt anything. Animal instinct was a powerful driver, and knowing that, he should have slowed things down with Stacey, but his first sight of her after a space of five years had tilted his world on its axis.

What the hell was happening to him?

Staring into the mirror, he raked his hair and growled as he shook his head like an angry wolf. Stubble blackened his face. His hard, unyielding face. Beneath her professional shell, Stacey was still as soft and vulnerable as ever, and damaged by the past. He, of all people, should understand that. But he’d never felt like this before. It was as if everything that had been missing from his life had come pouring in, but too fast, so that instead of tender, protective thoughts, wild, animal passion consumed him.

Planting his fists against cold granite on the breakfast bar, he dipped his head and tightened his jaw. He’d seen too much of Stacey’s early life not to care. She’d used him for satisfaction, but he’d hardly been a passive bystander and had never known pleasure like it. Stacey had well and truly turned the tables, and when they met again…if they met again…

When they met again, he determined fiercely. For her sake, he’d be cool and distant so as not to mislead her. But was that the best he could do to save her from another cold, unfeeling man? Her father had done enough damage, and he could not bear to do more.

Did she feel anything for him?

Damage from the past cut deep in both of them. Doubt and mistrust were never far away. Lifting his head, he smiled in acknowledgement of this.

But they could change. He could change.

Could he?

The real question was, did he want to?

She was looking forward to the big event in the mountains, and it had to stay that way. How Luc would feel when he saw her again, remained to be seen. Her feelings were unchanged. From day one she had felt something for him—a lot, she admitted—so if he ignored her or, worse, if he was unemotional, and confined their dealings solely to business, it would mean putting on the act of her life.

And she would, she determined as she said goodbye to the team. ‘See you in the mountains!’ she exclaimed brightly as she wondered why life had to be so complicated.

Because life was tough for everyone, she concluded when she was alone in the room, gathering up her things. Nothing was straightforward for anyone, and, short of locking herself away and never doing anything, there would be hurt and disappointment, and pain, but there would be moments of happiness too, so she’d cling to those and get through it. Dreaming of a life with Luc was not only unrealistic, it would be like walking into pain with her eyes wide open. Any thoughts of a long-term relationship between them was a fantasy too far. Luc was a high-flyer while she had barely tested her wings. As far as business was concerned, she was confident he couldn’t have any complaints, but when it came to personal feelings… Maybe she’d never know what he felt. Luc had always kept personal matters close to his chest. Niahl’s theory was that Luc would never open up, because that would mean confronting the grief of losing his parents. The stresses of business and people who depended on him for their livelihoods, together with concern for his siblings, had robbed him of the chance to grieve.

Niahl was probably right, and Luc had spent so many years regarding her as nothing more than Niahl’s annoying little sister that he probably couldn’t conceive of her being anything more.

Except for last night.

Which was already behind her.

What happened to your confidence?

She’d left it in his penthouse suite. Luc had restored her confidence in being someone worth spending time with, but one night of passion did not a romance make. Better one fabulous night, she concluded, gritting her jaw. It was more than some people had. Instead of dwelling on what she couldn’t make happen, she should concentrate on what she could, which, with the aid of her team, was to create the most fabulous party of the year.

After a tense breakfast meeting during which he could hardly concentrate long enough to sign a multimillion-dollar contract to upgrade the tech for the government of a small country, his thoughts turned back with relief to Stacey. Anything that had happened between them was his fault. He could have resisted and had chosen not to.

Calling the elevator, he stepped into the cab and, leaning back against the wall, closed his eyes. This was the same Stacey who used to wear her hair in braids and give him a hard time at the farm. He smiled as he pictured her at the banquet last night, so determined to make everyone’s night a success, including his. A little tired and frazzled around the edges, but definitely all grown up, as she’d proved later in his bed. As far as business went, early reports from his team said the banquet was the best yet.

As he stepped out into the lobby of the glass and steel monument to his success, she consumed his thoughts. His hunger to chart every change in Stacey from gauche ingénue to the professional woman she was today was eating him alive. And he’d never know, because he wouldn’t risk getting closer to her. He’d seen enough of her home life to know the journey she’d taken to this point. With no intention of adding to her woes, he’d put distance between them.

His Lamborghini was waiting at the kerb. Tipping the valet, he folded his athletic frame into the car and eased into the morning traffic. His thoughts turned to the day Niahl had left home. Stacey had been too young to follow her brother, and had made such a lonely figure standing at the farm gate waving them off. She’d looked broken. He’d watched in the wing mirror until they’d turned a corner and he hadn’t been able to see her any more. It had been a desperate end to an unhappy visit, during which he’d seen her run ragged as she’d tried to care for everyone. It had seemed to him that no one cared for Stacey but her brother, Niahl.

As soon as she’d been old enough, she’d changed her life. A scholarship to a college specialising in the hospitality industry in London had resulted in her graduating as the top student in her year. How could he risk destroying the confidence that had given her by embarking on some ultimately doomed affair? Stacey deserved more than a man who walked away if emotion ever threatened to cloud his rational mind.

Almost four hectic weeks had passed since the memorable encounter with Luc in Barcelona. Planning any party could be a logistical nightmare, but when the venue was in a challenging location Stacey and her team had to work flat out to make sure that everything was delivered well in advance. She’d barely had a moment to breathe, let alone consider what memories Luc had been left with after their passionate night.

After the clamour of the city the serene peace of the mountains was nothing short of a dream come true. The air was cool and clean. Crisp white snow crunched underfoot, and the sky was a flawless, cerulean blue. The small village with its backdrop of towering mountains was like the best picture postcard in the world. The slopes were teeming with skiers, all of whom moved to their own sure, rhythmical pattern, while beginners on the nursery slopes made shakier and more uncertain figures. One thing, however, was common to all. Everyone was smiling.

‘What a fabulous atmosphere! What a place to hold a party!’ she exclaimed to her companions in the team. ‘We’re going to have the best time ever here. It’s going to be the party of the year.’

Only the final tweaks remained and Stacey was as certain as she could be that Lucas would love what they had planned. Lucas. She was desperate to see him, and dreading it too. What if he—?

No. Don’t think that way. Only positive thoughts from now on.

They had to meet, and she’d take it from there. It wouldn’t be easy with the brand of his lips on her mouth and the memory of his hands on her body, but what was easy? Nothing worth having, that was for sure.

‘We’ll make this event something the Da Silva guests never forget, and for all the right reasons,’ she told the team. ‘How beautiful is this?’ she exclaimed, turning full circle. ‘Let’s get settled in, and then we can make a start.’

The success of any team depended on its leadership. That was something Lady Sarah had drummed into her right at the start, so, whatever Stacey’s personal feelings about Lucas, she had to get on with things for the sake of the team.

‘There will be a few more hurdles to cross here than we had in the city,’ Stacey observed later when she and the team were seated around a boardroom table in an office the hotel had made available for them. ‘The weather, for one thing,’ she said, glancing out of the window. The quaint, pitched-roofed buildings had been covered in deep mantles of snow when they’d arrived, but now they were gradually fading out of sight. A drift of snowflakes falling like a veil was growing heavier by the minute, while the flawless blue sky that had so impressed her was rapidly turning to unrelieved grey. ‘I should get out and scout the various locations while I still can,’ she said, drawing the meeting to a close. ‘Take the night off. I’m going to need everyone firing on all cylinders tomorrow.’

‘What about you?’ a colleague piped up.

‘I’ll rest when I’m reassured about our venues. Until then…?’ She shrugged.

‘Keep in touch.’

‘I will,’ she promised.

The village proved to be a fascinating place with its glitter and sparkle, but what struck Stacey more was the resilience of visitors and residents alike as they crowded the pavements in what were undeniably extreme weather conditions.

Still, everyone was dressed for it, Stacey reasoned, admiring the beautifully decorated shop windows as she strode past in her snow boots and Party Planners padded jacket. She was heading for the gondola station as, not only was there to be a party down here, but a reception higher up the mountain at Luc’s ski lodge, as well as a firework display and a torchlit procession down the mountain. Pausing briefly to adjust her snow goggles, she studied the statue of a miniature couple in one of the windows. Placed outside the model of a typical chalet, both figures were wearing skis and staring up at each other in apparent rapture.

I should have learned to ski, she mused silently. Too late now. But the gondola would take her where she needed to be. She could just step in and out, no problem.

Craning her neck when she reached the station, she tried to spot Luc’s eyrie. It was supposed to be the biggest chalet on the mountain. She thought of it as his castle, his fortress, his ivory tower. But she couldn’t see anything as low cloud and the misting of snow had blotted out the upper reaches of the route the gondola would take.

What if the gondola stopped running? How would they transport the guests?

There was time, Stacey reasoned. They had a good few days before the party. Surely the weather would have improved by then?

The hotel manager had told her that Lucas had arrived by helicopter that same morning. Her heart went crazy all over again, just as it had the first time she’d heard it. ‘Nothing deters him,’ the hotel manager had said. ‘Bad weather has been forecast, but Señor Da Silva is an expert pilot, so he knows all about timing to escape the worst of any oncoming storm.’

Yes, he would, she’d thought then. Niahl had warned her that the weather could be unpredictable but that this resort had some of the most challenging slopes in the world, which was what had attracted Lucas to the village in the first place. It would, she mused.

Would Luc be thinking about her, as she was thinking about him?

Only in as much as he might wonder if she and the team had arrived before the weather closed in, she concluded. She hadn’t heard from him since Barcelona, confirming her belief that their night together meant more to her than it did to him. Of course he’d take for granted the fact that she’d get on with things. And why shouldn’t he? She wanted him to know he could rely on her, and that Party Planners would give him the event of the year.

She paused at the foot of the steps leading up to the gondola station. Her pulse jagged at the thought of seeing Luc again. Dragging deep on the ice-cold air, she hunched her shoulders into her jacket and drove forward into the wind. Behind her, vehicles with snow chains were crawling along. Even they were having difficulty negotiating the road. But what she’d started, she would finish. All she needed was a quick look-see so she could brief the team, and then she’d head straight back down the mountain to take a hot bath and have a good sleep before the real work began tomorrow.

CHAPTER SIX

STACEY ONLY REALISED what she’d taken on as the packed gondola transporting skiers to their chalets on the higher levels left its berth on the lower station. It was one thing agreeing to what had seemed a perfectly reasonable request by the Da Silva team, to hold a party in the main village before transporting guests up the mountain for the grand finale of fireworks and a torchlit descent. There was no doubt that the infrastructure was here to support that. But when the weather closed in as it had done today, she could only be grateful that she’d taken the precaution of having everything delivered in good time for the party. She doubted anything else would get through.

Luc had intimated through the head of his team that he had a novel idea for ferrying guests up the mountain for the champagne reception. Stacey had yet to learn what that was, and had put in an urgent request for more information so she could plan for whatever needed to be done.

Firming her jaw, she stared out of the window. There were always challenges, but this took things to the wire. As the ground dropped away the wind picked up and whistled around the swaying car. None of her companions seemed concerned, so she made herself relax and wait until that blissful moment when she was back on solid ground.

Snow was falling steadily when she joined the crowds streaming out of the station. She had a map but it wasn’t much use now the street had disappeared beneath a thick white carpet. Seeing a ticket booth, she stopped to ask directions and was told that she couldn’t miss the Da Silva chalet as it was the largest private structure in town. ‘Will the gondola continue to run?’ she asked, staring up at the leaden sky.

‘Of course,’ she was told. ‘Only a white-out or heavy winds could stop the service, and this weather system is supposed to move on.’ A glance at the sky seemed to confirm this. A big patch of blue had broken through the cloud. Thanking the clerk, she took the precaution of donning a pair of high-performance ski goggles to prevent snow-blindness and set off, but she had barely made it out of the station before a strong wind kicked up. The patch of blue she’d been so relieved to see soon disappeared behind a fresh bank of cloud and these clouds were thicker and darker than before.

Weather in the mountains was known to be unpredictable. Could anyone accurately predict the capricious path of Mother Nature? Somehow, she doubted it.

A heavy silence gathered around her as she trudged along. Everyone else seemed to have retreated into their houses or hotels, and even those buildings had turned ghostly in the half-light. Her heart was racing. The snow was falling so heavily now, it was like a thick white curtain in front of her face. Her heart was racing. She’d heard enough horror stories to know she should be concerned. She couldn’t even be sure if she was walking in a straight line or going around in circles. Luc’s chalet was supposed to be close to the station, and, though it might be the largest private home in the area, if she couldn’t see the other buildings, what hope did she have of finding it?

Adjusting her neck warmer so it covered her mouth and nose, she bent her head into the wind and slogged on. Going back wasn’t an option. When she stopped and turned to try and get her bearings, the gondola station had disappeared. Tugging off a thick ski glove with her teeth, she located her phone and tried to call her colleagues in the village. No signal. There was only one option left, and that was to keep on walking in the hope that something would come into view, though that didn’t seem likely in this all-encompassing sea of white.

‘Hello! Hello!’ she called out, panic-stricken. ‘Can anyone hear me?’

Silence answered her call.

‘Hello! Hello!’ she repeated at the top of her lungs. ‘Is anyone out here?’

She stood motionless in the snow with her arms crossed over her chest as she tried to slap some life into her frozen limbs. There was not a sound to be heard other than the wailing of the wind and the deceptively silky whisper of deadly snowflakes.

And then…

Was she dreaming?

‘Hello!’ she cried out wildly, feeling certain she’d heard a faint sound in the distance. ‘Hello?’ she called again.

She tried to locate the source of the sound, but it seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. ‘I’m over here!’ she bellowed tensely.

‘Stay where you are! Don’t move. I’m coming to get you.’

‘Luc?’ Relief engulfed her.

‘I said, stay where you are.’

His voice was harsh, imperative, quashing her relief, and turning it to exasperation that of course it had to be Luc who found her.

‘Stacey? You have to keep shouting so I can find you.’

The wind tossed his voice around so it was impossible to tell which direction he was calling from. ‘Hello! Hello!’ she called out in desperation. ‘I’m over here.’

‘Don’t move. I can hear you. Keep shouting…’

But his voice sounded fainter as he was walking away from her. ‘I’m over here,’ she yelled, frantic with fear that he might walk straight past her. ‘Please…’ Her voice broke with sheer terror that, having been found, she might be abandoned again. And then, quite suddenly, they were standing face to face. Regardless of anything that had gone before, she catapulted herself into his arms. ‘Thank God you found me!’

‘Dios! Thank God I did. What on earth are you doing up here?’

‘Researching.’

‘Couldn’t that have waited until tomorrow?’

‘I like to be prepared.’

‘But you’ve only just arrived,’ Luc pointed out. ‘My people gave me your schedule,’ he explained.

‘The team is resting,’ she confirmed, ‘but I want to be informed, ready to brief them in the morning.’

Luc frowned down at her. ‘There’s dedication to duty, and then there’s obsession,’ he observed. ‘Didn’t it occur to you that you should be resting too?’

‘Pot, kettle, black?’ she suggested. ‘Do you hang around when an important deal is on the table? No. I didn’t think so. And I wouldn’t be here at all if I hadn’t checked first that the gondolas would be running in spite of the weather.’

‘In fairness, no one could have predicted this,’ Luc agreed, driving forward. ‘The gondola station has only just closed.’

‘Closed?’ Stacey exclaimed. ‘How do I get down the mountain?’

‘You won’t—not tonight, at least.’

‘A hotel, then,’ she said hopefully, looking about.

‘All the hotels are full of people who are stranded,’ Luc explained.

‘So where are you taking me?’

‘Does it matter?’ Grabbing hold of her arm, he urged her along. ‘Come on, we’ll freeze if we stay here.’

Against her better judgement where Luc was concerned, she felt safe for the first time since coming up the mountain. And optimistic for some reason. She felt way too much of everything, Stacey concluded as she admitted, ‘This is not how I expected us to meet.’

‘I’m sure not,’ Luc agreed, forced to shout as he drove them both on against the battering snow. ‘You’re lucky I was checking the progress of evacuating skiers, and making sure the slopes were clear, or we wouldn’t be here.’

‘Where exactly are we?’ she asked. ‘How do you even know where we’re going?’ Having stared about, she couldn’t be sure of anything but an unrelieved vista of white.

‘I just know where I am,’ Luc said with confidence. ‘In-built GPS, I guess.’

She wouldn’t put anything past him. ‘I’m sorry to have caused you so much trouble.’

‘Not your fault,’ he said brusquely. ‘It’s been called the freak storm of the century. No one saw this coming.’

Reassured that he didn’t think her completely reckless in venturing up the mountain, she asked another question. ‘Do you have a phone signal at your chalet? I need to reassure the team I’m okay.’

‘I have a landline,’ Luc confirmed, ‘though mobile lines are dead. You can ring the hotel and leave a message.’

‘Sure?’

‘Of course.’

‘That’s very kind of you.’

This was too polite, she mused as Luc steered her away to the left; a bit like the calm before the storm.

‘My chalet’s over here.’

‘So close,’ she exclaimed with surprise.

‘As close as the black ski run where I found you.’ Luc’s voice held irony and humour in matching amounts. ‘You might have had a shock if you’d gone that way.’

‘Terrifying,’ she agreed. ‘Particularly as I can’t ski.’

‘Nor can I without skis,’ Luc pointed out dryly.

In all probability, Luc had saved her life. ‘I can never thank you enough for finding me.’

‘We’ll find a way.’

Her heart almost leapt out of her chest. Her brain said it was a throwaway remark, but it was still Luc speaking. She hoped he’d say more. He didn’t. Locking an arm around her waist, he steered her until finally he half carried her up a slope that had probably been steps to his chalet before the snows came.

‘Thank you,’ she said as he steadied her on the ground as the impressive entrance door swung open.

‘You’ll have plenty of chances to thank me,’ he observed with some irony. ‘You won’t be going anywhere tonight. Neither of us will. You’ll have to stay in the chalet with me.’

Left with that alarming thought, she smiled as obliging staff gathered on the doorstep to greet them. Without exception, they were relieved to see Lucas return safely. He introduced Stacey to his housekeeper, a rosy-cheeked older woman called Maria, who wanted nothing more than to take Stacey under her wing, but they all paused in the same instant as a thin wail cut through their greeting.

‘Did you hear that?’ Stacey asked.

‘Go inside while I take a look around,’ Luc instructed.

‘No way. I’m coming with you. It isn’t safe to be out on your own tonight.’

‘Says you?’ he countered with a devastating smile. ‘Do you think two of us will be safer?’

‘Two will stand more chance of finding someone stranded.’

‘No.’ He shook his head. ‘You’re freezing. Go inside.’

‘I can last a little longer, and if there is someone out there, we have to find them.’

‘You have to call your team,’ he reminded her.

‘And I will, just as soon as I get back.’

Luc frowned. ‘That sounds like an animal in distress…’

‘Let’s go,’ Stacey insisted, tugging on his arm.

An hour later, she and Maria were tending a cat after a most astonishing encounter in Luc’s boot room. Two calls later, and Stacey had informed her team that she was safe and they should stay where they were. ‘I’ll give you an update tomorrow,’ she promised.

‘Bath. Now,’ Luc instructed from the doorway. ‘I won’t be answerable for your well-being if you don’t take my advice.’

‘I didn’t ask you to be answerable.’ She couldn’t bring herself to add, I’m fine. I can look after myself, as the blizzard had clearly proved her wrong about that.

‘Lucky for you, I’m still going to care about your welfare,’ Luc said in a tone that made her think he was speaking as her brother’s friend, rather than as her lover. ‘Just remember—you’re in my house and I’m in charge. No arguments,’ he added in a mock-stern tone. ‘And when you take a shower be sure to run it cold, or you’ll burn yourself. Even on the coldest setting the water’s going to feel warm to you. It’s only safe to increase the temperature when the water starts to feel chilly to you. When you’re confident everything’s back to normal you can take a bath. Don’t rush. I’ll be doing the same thing.’

He was almost out of the door when he thought better of it and turned around. ‘You did well tonight. That could have been a person, and a cat is no less deserving of our care. Mountain rescue will be on the case by now. They’re a lot better equipped than I am for this sort of thing, so you can relax. I’ll call them to let them know the area we covered, and then we can safely leave them to it. I’ll join in later if they need me.’

‘Then so will I,’ Stacey insisted.

‘No, you won’t. You can’t ski, and you don’t know the mountains. You’ll only get in the way. Stay here. You were brave tonight. Don’t be foolish now.’

‘I wasn’t brave, I was scared to death,’ she admitted. ‘That’s why I had to go out again, in case there were others trapped like me.’

‘You’re very honest,’ he observed.

She shrugged. ‘I try to be.’

Stacey, Stacey, Stacey! What was she doing to him? Lucas reflected as he paced the great room, attempting not to think of her naked beneath the shower. He’d passed the time while she’d been warming up, making calls to reunite the cat with its owner, and to alert the mountain rescue team to their actions. The search chief had praised Stacey for her bravery. Any visitor who, having found safety, set out again in such terrible conditions to help others was worthy of a commendation, he’d said. ‘I’ll pass that on to her,’ Luc had promised.

No one got through to him like Stacey, who had made a mockery of his intentions to save her from him. Saving her for him made more sense right now—especially when, in a moment of complete madness, he had felt moved to enclose her face in his hands in the boot room to give her a brief, reassuring kiss—on the cheek, but still… What the hell had he been thinking? It was bad enough they were here, trapped together in his chalet overnight, without him making things worse. So much for good intentions! She’d ridden roughshod over his control.

What alternative did he have? With many of his guests having arrived early to make the most of their trip, he could use all the people he could get, both up here and down at the hotel. Stacey’s team was in place in the village while she was here, ready to act on any changes to her plans for the party brought on by the weather.

At least she appeared to be following orders for once. For now. Maria had reported back that warm clothes had been delivered to Stacey’s suite of rooms, and she was enjoying a bath. She could stay one night, but no longer. His libido couldn’t take it. He had nothing to offer Stacey that she’d be interested in. Money, jewels, fashion meant nothing to her. Her practical nature was fulfilled by her rigorous working regime, but when it came to the personal side of things, she was a dreamer, a romantic, who, now they’d had sex, would expect more than he could give.

A beautiful woman had sought refuge under his roof, but all he could think about was keeping his thoughts and feelings locked up tight.

That wasn’t strictly true, was it? However many times he told himself that this was Stacey, the imp who used to plague him at her father’s farm, his straining groin begged to differ. Rearranging his over-packed jeans, he grimaced. He couldn’t even trust himself to guide Stacey to her bedroom, and had left that task to Maria. Having known her intimately, he wanted her again, and that want was like a fury drilling away inside him to the point where he found it impossible to concentrate on anything else.

He had to have her. It was as simple as that.

Would it be so simple for Stacey?

A humourless laugh escaped him at the thought that she was quite capable of turning him down. Stacey wasn’t like anyone else he’d ever known. She lived life by her own rules, and his gut instinct warned him that obeying him would figure nowhere in her plans, a thought that only sharpened his appetite.

He glanced at the thick fur rug in front of the hearth, longing to hear her moan beneath him as her eyes and mouth begged him to take her again. To feel her hips straining to meet his; to have her until she couldn’t stand; to bring her more pleasure than she’d ever known—

Stop! Get over this obsession with Stacey and accept that she’s here to work!

How was he supposed to forget the telling signs of arousal in her darkening eyes when she looked at him? Or his desire to kiss every inch of her body? The disappointment on her face when he’d passed her over to Maria had told him everything: Stacey wanted him as much as he wanted her.

Get over it. Forget it.

Pouring a stiff drink, he gulped it down. Discarding the glass, he gave a roar of frustration as he planted his fist into the wall.

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