"At the moment, yes, because I'm not dealing in vast quantities. If I knew the market was there and I could increase the number of items in production, the price would drop considerably."
"We definitely need to think about a wider market place for you."
"We?" She gave him a chastising stare.
He shrugged. "Consider this a free consultation."
"Two department stores in Edinburgh have taken on some of my range and they're doing well.
He turned the laptop so they could look at it together. "Find me that spreadsheet." While she scanned through the pages, Lucas got up and walked to a cabinet at the back of the plane's interior. When she glanced after him she saw it housed drinks and glassware.
"We have a good sparkling white wine here. Can I tempt you?"
Naomi nodded. It was early in the day but with any luck the alcohol would mellow her anxiety. She was just getting used to being around him when this curveball had been thrown. Somehow she'd agreed to come with him. She wasn't at home in his world, jetting about Europe conducting business meetings in the sky.
He handed her a glass. She sipped her wine, enjoying the crisp, icy fizz on her tongue, and watched him taking his seat. Even though he had a wine glass in one hand he was still scrolling through her spreadsheets with the other.
"Do you ever take a holiday?" she asked.
"Every second weekend, with Toby."
"I meant a proper break, lying out on a sun lounger thinking about nothing but the sound of the crickets."
"I haven't for a long while." He looked vaguely disturbed by her comment.
It tickled her. She tutted. "Mr. Eaglestone, shame on you. Everyone needs to take a break and refill the well, especially someone who works the way you do. Have I finally found a chink in your perfectly polished armor?"
"I didn't know you were looking for chinks." His gaze locked with hers.
He didn't falter for long, Naomi noticed. "It might be useful to know what they are."
"It might be dangerous."
The wicked look in his eyes quickly quelled her inquisitive line of thinking, because it made her think about sex instead.
An alert sounded and the fasten seatbelt light came on.
Lucas glanced at his watch. "We'll be landing soon."
Naomi watched him switch the laptop off and return it to her bag, wondering if he'd ever look at her spreadsheets again. Disconcerted, she pushed the odd question away. They were a long way off that. Instead she thanked him and got settled in for the landing.
A chauffeur driven car awaited them at the landing strip. Everything worked like clockwork, as if the plans have been set out weeks before and everyone had memos and agreed to be everywhere on time. It amazed Naomi, because this had all happened within a few hours. Lucas needed order and control, so everything fell into place, was that it? Or was it power and money? A combination of both, in his case, she surmised.
The car took them to an elegant hotel on the outskirts of the town.
"My assistant has booked a suite in my name," Lucas informed her as they pulled up at the entrance flanked by massive white pillars. "I'll check in then I'll leave you to get settled."
"You're going straight to your son?"
He nodded. "Yes, the car will wait while I check in. I'll be a couple of hours, tops. I'll order us some food as soon as I get back."
He escorted her to the reception and handled the check in. He kissed her forehead before leaving.
Naomi watched as he walked away, noticing his broad shoulders and how people turned to look at him as he passed them by. She felt an ache of loss and wanted to follow, to say something special to him before he left – something significant. The rights words didn't form.
Then he was gone.
* * * *
Lucas stood in the doorway of the activities room, watching his son.
He had just a few seconds to observe before Toby became aware of his dad's presence. The lad was sitting in a room set up for leisure activities for visiting school parties. He was deeply entrenched in the computer game he was playing, his unruly dark hair obscuring his face as he stared at the screen.
Lucas experienced the same contentment he always did when reunited with his son, but concern weighed heavily on him too.
"Dad," Toby said, dropping the games console. He hurtled toward his father.
Lucas put his hand on Toby's back, squeezing him affectionately while Toby hugged against his side "Okay, son, let's have a chat." He turned to look at the teacher who had escorted him to the room. "If that's okay with you?"
He wanted to be on his own with Toby to hear the story, but he respected the authority of the school.
The teacher, a young woman called Miss Jenkins, batted her eyelashes. "Of course, Mr. Eaglestone. I'd like you to know we plan to reintegrate Toby with his classmates this afternoon."
"Is that wise?"
"Some information has come to light that I think you ought to know." The teacher looked awkward.
There was obviously something she wanted to get off her chest, quickly. Lucas looked down at his son, ruffling his hair. Toby looked up.
"It wasn't my fault, Dad."
"Tell me what happened." Lucas was determined to hear the child's version first.
"James said something about Mama. I was upset." Toby's head dropped.
Lucas fought back the rising tide of irritation at the mention of Clara.
"Is that correct?" he queried the teacher.
"Apparently so. If we'd known this right away we would've informed you by phone. You've had a wasted journey, for which I apologize on behalf of the school." The woman shuffled her feet and folded her arms defensively as if she was ready for a row.
Lucas didn't want her to clam up, so he smiled. "I'd rather hear about this in person. Rest assured you did the right thing."
The teacher gave a quick smile, as if relieved. "My understanding is the other child involved made a remark about Mrs. Eaglestone. I'm not clear on the exact circumstances," she said quickly, blinking and averting her eyes, "but it seems Mrs. Eaglestone is…a friend…of the other boy's father, Adrian Deacon."
Lucas sighed, inwardly. "I understand." He resisted the urge to say more. "My outstanding concern is will there be any more trouble?"
"No. The other boy has apologized, as has Toby. We believe it's important we reintegrate them soon, before that's forgotten." She gave him a meaningful glance.
Toby looked up at Lucas. He looked fretful. Lucas squeezed his shoulder, nodded at him and smiled.
The boy's expression lifted. "My hand hurts," he declared.
Despite the circumstances, Lucas was relieved. "Of course it does. You won't do it again?"
Toby shook his head vehemently.
"It's always better to talk, to ask what was meant if someone says something that upsets you. You'll think about that and keep it in mind?"
"Yes, Dad."
He glanced at his watch. "What time would you like Toby to rejoin his friends?"
The teacher perked up. "The group will be back from ski practice in about forty-five minutes."
Lucas nodded. "I'll spend those forty-five minutes with Toby, if that suits you?"
"Yes, of course. Thank you Mr. Eaglestone."
When the teacher left, Lucas nodded over at the games console. "Is this a new game, something you can teach me?"
Toby nodded, grinned and led the way.
Chapter Nine
Naomi took a hot shower. The bathroom was luxurious, and huge — as much square footage as her living quarters above the shop in Edinburgh. The thought amused her. It also made her feel like an impostor. That thought kept stealing back, and hot on its tails the reminder she'd gone to London with a business plan, not to find a lover. Luckily the shower had a steambath feature. She needed it.
After she steamed herself to relaxation, she got wrapped in one of the plush toweling robes, then she strolled around the suite, toweling her wet hair as she went. Marble pillars punctuated the spa
ce. The furnishings were in shades of chocolate. Smokey full length mirrors only served to make the opulent space seem larger still. She turned, catching sight of herself at all angles as she moved. It was a world away from any luxury she'd ever experienced.
Noises outside the door of the suite caught her attention. Room service? No, Lucas said he'd order when he got back. Unless he'd changed his mind. Perhaps he'd ordered some cocktails, or champagne. She dropped the towel on a chair, retied the belt on her robe then strolled toward the door.
It sounded like a disagreement going on outside the door to the suite, and the voices were getting louder. Naomi quietly walked closer, curious.
As she did, the door burst open.
"Just let me in," an exasperated female voice demanded, "my husband can explain."
My husband? The words echoed around Naomi's mind, growing louder each time. My husband? What the hell?
"I'm sorry, Madame."
Wrong suite, Naomi assumed.
"There's obviously been some confusion," the male voice continued, "possibly on our part. I assure you Mr. Eaglestone already booked in with a companion"
A woman walked in, pushing past the man who was speaking. Naomi noticed it was the front desk manger. As for the woman, Naomi did a double take.
Naomi had to hold onto a nearby chair to steady herself because it was like looking in a mirror. The woman was slender and elegant, dressed to kill in expensive clothing, and her glossy red hair was swept up in a top knot. It was Lucas's ex-wife, had to be.
When the woman clocked Naomi standing there in a robe, she halted and looked Naomi up and down. "Bloody hell," the new arrival said, "I can see why they were shitting themselves on reception. He's got some bimbo in tow." The woman glared at Naomi, her mouth twisting in annoyance. "Who the hell are you?"
Naomi was momentarily lost for words. Who am I?
The other woman answered for her. "His latest shag. He always did have a thing for redheads, it's his weakness."
In a flash Naomi was back in Edinburgh on her knees – his willing slave — and Lucas was talking about her hair, how powerfully it aroused him. Red hair. Is that all it was? Fury lit her blood. Stand your ground, she silently chanted. She stared at Lucas's wife and then lifted her chin. "Yes, I'm the latest shag. And you're the ex-wife, I assume."
Even as she said it, she faltered. What if they were still married? No, Lucas wouldn't have lied. Or would he? How well did she even know him? She folded her arms across her chest, determined not to look like a fool.
The woman threw her a disdainful look but didn't deny the ex-ness of her status. Thankfully.
The manager nodded over at Naomi. He was clearly unsure how to handle the situation. "Perhaps Madame would like to check in," he suggested to the lady he was escorting, "we have another suite available."
"I'm going nowhere. My husband can sort it out when he gets here." With that, she deposited herself and her over-large handbag on one of the sofas.
Naomi fumed, silently. If she turned away to go get dressed it would seem like defeat, so she stayed where she was.
"So where did he pick you up," Clara said with a scathing glance, "some club I suppose?"
"We're business colleagues, actually." It was almost the truth, and Naomi felt she deserved the exaggeration. It made her feel better. Inside she was squirming. She wanted a drink, preferably a large, neat brandy, and she wanted this woman to be gone. Her mind raced, but before she had a chance to ask the other woman to leave, the desk manager moved to close the door to the corridor in an effort to contain the noise inside the suite, but it suddenly sprung wide open again.
Lucas stood in the doorway, eyes quickly scanning the scene inside.
The manager muttered an apology, backed away and shot off out of the door, taking the opportunity to escape.
For a moment Naomi felt relief that he was here to sort it out. Then she saw the black fury in his eyes.
He addressed his ex-wife. "What the hell are you doing here?"
"Lovely to see you too, darling." The woman gave a nasty little smirk, sarcasm ringing in her voice. "I came for mutual support, with Toby."
"We agreed I'd deal with it, and I have, no thanks to you." He stepped closer, glancing at Naomi as he moved.
"I'll leave—" Naomi began.
"No, stay," he interrupted. "Please. This won't take long." He turned his attention back to Clara, who was now perched on the edge of the sofa, one hand loosely gripping her bag.
Naomi noticed she looked uncomfortable. It made her curious. No thanks to you? What did Lucas mean? she wondered.
"Is Toby all right?" the ex asked.
"Now you worry about it." He stepped closer, tension evident in his very posture.
"Of course," she responded, "I've been worried all along."
Lucas shook his head. "Toby hit another boy. He was provoked. However, I believe you might know why it happened, because the other boy is Adrian Deacon's son."
His ex-wife shook her head, annoyance and denial filling her expression, but Naomi noticed her face had flushed. Whatever it was about, Lucas had struck a nerve with his ex. Naomi looked from one to the other of them. The urge to leave still nagged at her. The part that wanted her to stand her ground won out.
Lucas gave a wry smile. "I understand you were hoping these two kids would hit it off in an entirely different way, since you've been dating this Adrian Deacon."
Naomi looked on in stunned silence. She couldn't help being intrigued.
Clara's lips pursed. "It was a reasonable expectation."
"It certainly explains why you forced him on a trip with older kids when he wasn't ready."
"I misjudged, but I had good motives."
"Good motives?" Lucas looked incredulous. "You used your son as a pawn. Well I'm afraid he hasn't played along with your game Clara – but how could he, he didn't know, whereas the other boy did and threw it at Toby to bait him."
She rose to her feet, ready to leave. "I'll explain. I'll go get him, take him home with me."
"No, you won't. Right now the teacher is re-integrating him with the other kids. That's important, and neither of us is going to mess that up for him. He'll travel back with them tomorrow, as planned. Hopefully things will return to normal for him." He paused, took off his jacket, slowly. "You weren't invited here, Clara," he added, eventually. "You should leave."
"I have a right to be here. I'm Toby's mother." She snatched her bag up from the sofa. "How the fuck should I know you had a bimbo in tow?"
Naomi smarted. She was mortified.
"Even if I was alone here," Lucas responded, "I'd be asking you to leave."
His comment irked the ex. She turned back to face Naomi, daggers in her eyes. "You'll regret this. He'll come back to me and Toby soon."
Come back to me? Naomi's throat constricted. Had Lucas left his wife? That's not how he'd explained it to her. Or was the ex saying that because she was compromised, having marched in here hoping for reconciliation, even though there was a new man involved? It was hard to fathom, because the tension was so high and the ex-wife was clearly lashing out.
Whichever it was, Naomi knew she had to be cautious. It was a big wake up call. Her emotions had become involved and she barely knew the man, barely knew how likely he was to switch sides. When she looked his way, though, she saw Lucas's response — he looked as if he wanted to physically eject his ex.
Naomi's heart raced, squirming as she was with embarrassment.
Acting on instinct, she said her piece. "You're just trying to rock the boat," she said with much more clarity and calm than she actually felt. "I haven't known Lucas long, but I know him well enough to be sure he'd have done that already, if it was what he wanted."
Lucas nodded Naomi's way. It was a slight dip of his head, but it was a powerful acknowledgement.
Clara blurted something unintelligible in Naomi's direction then glared at Lucas. He strode over to Clara, put one hand between her shoulder blades and pointed at
the door. Clara flounced out, jerking her shoulder away from him as she went.
After the door closed behind her, silence weighed heavy in the air.
Naomi became aware how loudly her heart was pounding, how upset she was by it. The situation had been entirely unpleasant. Her emotions were awry and she wanted to be alone.
Lucas turned her way.
"I'm leaving," she blurted, and headed to the corridor that led to the bedroom.
He was at her back in a flash, one strong hand locked around her wrist halting her.
Naomi squeezed her eyes shut. His very touch made her melt. The fact it was containment made her pulse race even more erratically, because it aroused her.
"I'm sorry you had to witness that. Let me make it up to you."
"No, I need to be alone. Have to get my head together." She tugged her hand free. Mercifully he let her slip free.
She glanced back at him.
He was poise personified, but his eyes gave him away. He was angry, perhaps even betrayed. "I know you're sensible enough not to let a drama queen like Clara get to you, not really."
"It did get to me," she shot back, her face flaming.
"Why?" He put his hands out in a physical request.
That gesture doubled her confusion. She wanted him to comfort her, to reassure her, but her pride was dented. "Because she told me you replaced her with another redhead."
There. It was out.
"Did she say that?"
"Of course she did. But it was obvious. She didn't need to point it out."
He shrugged. "And..?"
"For god's sake, Lucas! How would you feel if you met my ex and he looked like you?"
He looked skyward as if briefly imagining it. "I suppose I'd be forced to recognize you had a consistent personality."
Naomi stared at him in disbelief. He was humoring her. Men! "That's easy for you to say so glibly, you're not in the situation I've just been."
"I know, Naomi, and I'm sorry you had to endure that. I had no idea she was coming here and she'd lash out at you."
"She obviously wants you back," she accused, annoyed because her emotions were well and truly ruling her responses now.
The Seller (Trading Hearts Book 2) Page 7