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He could have bitten off his own tongue. He never should have bought this dress for her.
‘It’s hardly suitable for the office. It’s very beautiful and generous, but I’m not sure it’s me,’ she said, fanning out the skirts around her legs.
‘It is bold, courageous and sensual, which makes me wonder if it’s the office that doesn’t suit? It certainly reminds me of the woman I met in Victoriana,’ he said truthfully.
‘That wasn’t me.’
‘Are you sure about that?’
‘Absolutely.’
‘Well, that is a shame. Because Henri was impressive, passionate and powerful. Who stole that from you, Sia?’ he couldn’t help but ask.
‘The deal is that I ask you the question. We had no agreement on me answering yours.’
He could see that she was hurt and angry. He knew that he’d pushed a button, but her retaliation was swift, harsh and, once again, it caught him unprepared.
‘So, tell me what you see when you look at the Durrántez painting,’ she demanded.
‘My mother.’
Both the speed and his answer seemed to surprise them both.
‘Literally or figuratively?’
He breathed in, needing a moment to secure a smile full of charm across his lips. ‘One question per day, Sia. You know that.’
CHAPTER SIX
INTERVIEWER ONE: What was this gala? I don’t remember seeing anything in the newspapers.
INTERVIEWER TWO: You said it was for VIPs?
MS KEATING: Yes, it was. Very important people.
SIA TRIED TO shake off the mess of her thoughts as she followed Sebastian back towards the hotel reception on the high-heeled shoes he’d somehow managed to secure in the right size. In part she’d brought it on herself. Her question had been born of her own hurt, her own frustration that Sebastian saw something in her that she’d never seen in herself but wanted to. Had always wanted to. But she’d also wanted to know why the Durrántez was so important to him and his answer had only confused her.
A confusion that swirled around her like the skirts of the most beautiful dress she’d ever worn. But, no matter how wonderful it made her feel, how...sensual and bold—just as he’d said—she still didn’t feel as if it suited her. Henri, perhaps. But not Sia, Bonnaire’s art valuer. If she would ever be that again. If she even wanted to be.
She matched Sebastian’s pace as it slowed to a stop, where he greeted some guests also making their way to the reception area. She didn’t recognise the faces of the people that passed, but everyone was smiling and happy. She felt Sebastian’s arm at her back as he guided her up the steps beside him and through the doorway.
The reception area had completely changed in the last few hours. Strings of fairy lights led from above the entrance to the opposite side of the room, as if guiding the guests towards the beautiful terrace area beyond. Unable to resist, Sia followed the others towards the steps out onto a back garden area that she had missed on their first visit.
Even more lights hung in a canopy above the garden and it was as if the stars had come closer just for them. Large broad-leafed palms interspersed with purple allamanda and jasmine created a beautiful, scented border for the party. Waiters in loose linen uniforms slowly circled the guests, offering flutes of champagne, pitchers of fresh fruit juice and platters of delicious-looking canapés.
And as she looked about her, Sia realised that, although everyone was dressed in finery, it wasn’t the kind of obscene wealth she’d have imagined of a highly exclusive private event on a Caribbean island. One strange difference was that the guests genuinely seemed to be happy to be there, as if they actually knew each other rather than being there simply to be seen before finding somewhere else more important to be.
‘Sia, you look beautiful,’ Ajay said sincerely by way of introduction.
‘Thank you.’
‘I don’t think she likes it,’ Sebastian stage-whispered to his hotel manager, seeming to return to the funny self-deprecating figure he tended to become around Ajay, as if the awkwardness they had shared had disappeared like clouds on a summer’s day.
‘I do,’ Sia said immediately, not wanting to seem ungrateful, but couldn’t help feeling self-conscious as Sebastian once again seemed to gaze at her from head to toe before turning back to Ajay.
‘Is it time?’
‘Yes, sir.’
