by Nell Harding
She smiled fondly at the memory, and then popped the last of her tart into her mouth. “Which is why you must allow me to relive the pleasure of my youth in shopping for you. Fashions may change, but the right fashion houses remain. And I happen to know where they are, so finish your tea and follow me. We have a busy afternoon ahead of us.”
Chapter Sixteen
Kate stood in front of the full-length mirror in one of the guest bedrooms of Sebastien’s sprawling penthouse apartment. The flat took up the entire top floor of a gracious eighteenth century building with floor-to-ceiling windows on four sides.
Kate’s room overlooked the old town and the snow-covered Jura Mountains behind, but long white curtains had been drawn to hide the view when Teresa had transformed the room into a model’s dressing room.
Paper bags, boxes and wrapping tissue from chic boutiques all over town now lined the wall by the dresser. As well as a gown and long coat for tonight, Teresa had insisted on buying Kate shoes, a pantsuit for lunch tomorrow, a casual outfit for Verbier and a whimsical little cocktail dress that had caught her expert eye as being the right fit for Kate.
A standing lamp had been dragged over to the dressing table to add more light to the mirror where Teresa had performed her art. Make-up brushes and cases still littered the table top.
The clothing on loan from Mimi’s lay untouched in her overnight bag. Despite her initial discomfort with Teresa’s offer, she was also secretly relieved not to have to spend the evening tugging at her friend’s evening gown which was designed for somebody taller and more willowy than Kate.
Instead, the sheer black dress that Teresa had chosen hung with simple elegance, sensuously suggesting at the curves beneath. Her normally impossible-to-manage hair was pulled stylishly up on her head, the curls tamed into silky rings that cascaded down her back. And Teresa herself had done Kate’s make-up, accentuating her high cheekbones and full lips, before whisking herself away.
“I don’t mean to rush off and abandon you, but I want to be off before Sebastien comes home,” she explained with a wink. “I wouldn’t want him to think I’d been meddlesome.”
“You’ve been a life-saver,” Kate assured her with genuine gratitude. “And I’m not abandoned, with Simon, Carol and Nick here as well. I’ve met them all before.”
“Ah, I’d forgotten,” Teresa acknowledged. “I had hoped to invite you to the family home, but for some reason my son wished you to stay in his flat tonight. Perhaps it was to play cards with the English.” She raised her eyebrows and nodded with mock gravity before a twinkle sparkled in her merry eyes. She gave Kate a goodbye kiss on the cheek and swept away with a final “You look absolutely perfect, my dear. Have fun.”
Kate felt absolutely perfect tonight. She twirled in front of the mirror, loving the feel of her new dress and singing “I Feel Pretty” from West Side Story. Not even the nagging voice of her conscience could spoil her anticipation of tonight, her excitement at seeing Sebastien again. At having him see her like this.
She had given up trying to fight her feelings for Sebastien, convinced that this was what she wanted more than anything. And somehow, she told herself, if he really fell for her the way she was falling for him, then the little detail about her identity wouldn’t bother him at all. She just had to wait until after tonight and then she would know where she stood with him and whether she needed to take that risk or not. She hoped so.
Although she knew that the British guests were having a cocktail and enjoying the view from Sebastien’s spacious lounge, she couldn’t tear herself away from the mirror. She felt transformed.
“Like Cinderella after the fairy godmother is done with her,” she had told Mimi incredulously over the phone. “I can’t believe this is me! In fact, it doesn’t look like me at all. I guess that’s why I feel so glamorous.”
“Then try to act the part and not say anything too outrageous,” her friend advised her fondly.
“No worries, I can’t afford to put my foot in my mouth with these Italian shoes on. I barely dare walk in them.”
“Make sure you take a photo!” Mimi advised her. “Before he rips that lovely dress off with his teeth.”
“Mimi!” Kate tried to sound shocked. At the same time, thanks to Teresa’s efforts, she felt fairly confident that it could well be Sebastien’s strong hands that undressed her tonight and freed her wild mane of curls.
Just imagining that made her pulse race and she decided that she might need that pre-dinner drink with the English crowd after all. But not before spending five minutes trying to use her cell phone to take a picture of herself in the mirror. She was certain that she would never look like this again.
Simon was in full swing when Kate finally left her room. He was regaling Nick and Carol with a tale from his schooldays with Sebastien, gesticulating with his plastered arm to animate his story. His boisterous spirits seemed undiminished by his recent misfortune which would no doubt be embellished to become another amusing anecdote to tell his friends back in London.
He broke off in mid-sentence as Kate made her timid entrance, feeling strangely shy in her new attire. Simon pushed back his chair and rose to his feet with a courtly bow in her direction. “You look ravishing, Michelle,” he said approvingly, making her face flush with pleasure. “I will definitely be the ugly duckling among the swans tonight.”
His stocky frame was draped in an elegantly-tailored evening jacket and expensive-looking trousers which he wore with the comfortable grace of somebody accustomed to wearing such clothes. Kate did not have that luxury and fought to keep from tugging at her dress where it brushed lightly against her hips.
“I’m glad to see you’ve recovered so well, Simon,” she said with a smile before turning to Nick and Carol. “And such a nice surprise to see you two again. I didn’t know you were also part of the party.”
Carol smiled. “No, we’re just gate-crashing the cocktail hour to see you and Simon. But we’ll come by for breakfast to say goodbye to Calamity Simon tomorrow.”
Simon sat back down in his deep leather chair, waving his cast toward the champagne bottle that was propped in a bucket of ice on the low glass coffee table. “Nick will have to serve you, I’m afraid, but if you think I was clumsy before the accident, I can assure you that it hasn’t gotten better with a plaster on my arm.”
Nick poured a flute of champagne for Kate and rose to his feet to hand it to her. “You look quite transformed, Michelle,” he said, passing her the cold drink and raising his glass to clink it against hers. “In a positive way, of course. Which isn’t to say...”
He petered out awkwardly and Carol broke in. “You look wonderful, Kate, is what he’s trying to say. Wherever did you find that dress?”
Kate smoothed it nervously, taking a sip of bubbly to calm her nerves. “Teresa picked it out for me,” she answered, resisting the urge to help herself to one of the twisted breadsticks that stood temptingly in a bowl beside the champagne. As it was, she would be trying to pull in her stomach all evening.
“Isn’t she an amazing woman?” Carol asked rhetorically. “We’re staying up at the family home with her this week. She always insists that we stay with her whenever we’re in town on business, says it is part of the personal touch that family businesses should offer.”
“Plus she likes to have people around her,” Simon said fondly. “That’s the Latin blood in her, always wanting to take care of you. I always used to stay with them for a week during school holidays. Never ate better in my life. And that’s saying something.” He patted his ample stomach with satisfaction.
“Yes, she’s been incredibly kind to me,” Kate agreed, moving toward the window to look at the lights lining the quay.
“The boys used to like it because it gave her somebody new to fuss over,” Simon continued fondly. “I always stay with Sebastien now, but I make sure to visit Teresa for a mealtime or two while I’m here.” He looked up at Kate, who was still hovering by the window. “Do take a seat, Michelle,”
he suggested, gesturing grandly toward the available sofas and chairs. “You know, if Nick and I were real gentlemen we would be forced to stay standing until you sat down.”
“Oh, let her stand,” Carol chided. “It isn’t as if either of you are gentlemen enough to remember to stand even if the Queen herself stopped by for a drink. And I imagine that Michelle feels more comfortable standing in a dress like that.”
Kate sent her a grateful look. It was true that she was afraid of crumpling her new gown before Sebastien even saw her, although Teresa had assured her that the material was wrinkle-free.
Just at that moment Sebastien strode into the room. Kate felt his arrival before she even saw him, felt the atmosphere become more charged by his powerful presence as everyone turned toward him.
Kate’s heart flip-flopped to the point of hurting. He looked devastating in his formal wear, his clothes tailored to fit his athletic form perfectly. Kate suddenly understood why Teresa had bemoaned their lack of time, wanting to have something custom-made for Kate as well. His dark eyes and thick brows were set off by the black jacket, while the cream-coloured shirt underneath highlighted his tanned skin.
“Evening Carol, Nick, Simon,” he greeted them, his eyes raking the room until he caught sight of Kate silhouetted against the window. For a moment he simply stared.
Kate felt herself burning up under the heat of his eyes as they slowly travelled down her body, from her tumbling curls to the angle of her feet in her new heels. His gaze lingered on the curve of her breasts and hips and the length of her calves, dissolving any remaining doubts she harboured about his interest in her.
He lifted his eyes to meet hers and suddenly nobody else in the room existed for Kate. “Tu es ravissante,” he told her simply, tilting his head toward her as if doffing his cap.
Then he seemed to become aware of the others in the room and smilingly accepted the proffered glass of champagne from Nick, never taking his eyes off Kate.
Simon rolled his eyes theatrically. “I think I’m going to feel like a third wheel as well as the thorn between two roses,” he said, trying to sound petulant. “How can I feel out of place at my own soirée?”
Sebastien finally tore his gaze from Kate and turned his dark eyes on his friend, raising his glass as he did so to propose a toast. “To Simon, for bringing us all together again,” he said, taking a sip as everyone else did the same. “If it weren’t for his uncanny knack to get injured off the slopes, we’d all be back to life as normal and probably working right now.”
Simon made a sheepish face as the others laughed.
Sebastien continued. “No, mon vieux, you are not in the way at all. Au contraire, if you hadn’t insisted, I might never have managed to convince Michelle to leave her precious mountain for me tonight.”
Kate stepped closer to the group and forced herself to join in the conversation, although she could happily have stood there for another hour simply basking in the pleasure of the way Sebastien was looking at her. “It’s true,” she said as if conceding a point. “Between a night at the opera and finishing a chapter in the book I’m reading, it was a pretty tough decision.”
“I had to promise her that you’d be there to chaperone us, Simon,” Sebastien went on with a twinkle in his eye. “I had to promise my mother as well. Her little boys apparently are not to be trusted around the fairer sex, and the tabloids would love another racy Pichard piece.”
“So, how did you two lovebirds meet?” Nick asked conversationally as Kate bent down to place her empty champagne glass on the table.
The directness of the question caught Kate unawares and she kept her head bent over the breadsticks, her mind racing as she tried to figure out how Sebastien had presented her.
“Michelle works with me,” Sebastien answered easily. “Which reminds me, you have some modelling to do for us tonight.”
Kate looked up in alarm and took a step backwards, but Sebastien caught her by her wrist and held her firmly. The feel of his strong hand against her arm sent an electric shock through her entire body and made her want to crumple into his arms.
Instead she stood warily, unsure of what was expected of her.
Sebastien seemed amused by her discomfort. “Just the usual, cherie,” he drawled, reaching in his jacket pocket for a small box. He released her arm to remove the lid and held the opened box out toward her.
Inside, nestled on blue satin, was a Pichard watch from the Simply Elegant collection. Kate recognised the style from the photographs that graced the deluxe watch catalogue on the coffee table in Verbier. The wristband was a simple swirl of narrow silver that fit like a bracelet, and the watch itself was a very small face embedded in the gentle crest of the wave. Kate wasn’t that familiar with precious stones, but the ends of the watch hands sparkled with what looked like diamonds.
“Sorry to ask you to work overtime again, Michelle,” he said, taking back the box to remove the watch from its case. “Mixing work and play is one of the hazards of a small family business and I’m afraid you’re getting dragged into it with me.”
Once again he reached for her hand, slipping the watch over her wrist where it fit perfectly. He tilted his head critically to verify the sizing and seemed satisfied. “Good to know I haven’t lost my touch.”
Kate simply stared at it dumbly. The watch was exquisite, and under the fine silverwork her wrist suddenly appeared delicate.
Her emotions were a jumbled mess again. She was confused by Sebastien’s presentation. How much of this was real and how much was a show for his colleagues? She also felt immensely relieved that she had thought to take off her own clunky digital watch and leave it in her room.
Sebastien’s thumb found the small of her wrist and applied gentle pressure for a moment before releasing her hand as the others came over to examine the watch.
“That’s a new one in the collection, isn’t it?” Carol asked Sebastien, looking at the watch appreciatively.
“Looks like an hors-series,” Simon said, sounding impressed and raising his eyebrows. “So what do I get to showcase for you tonight, mate?” He gave his friend a puppy dog look before slapping him on the shoulder. “We’d better get moving or I’m going to end up going to the opera alone. Or offering your tickets to Nick and Carol.”
“We’ve already been,” Nick said loftily, taking his wife’s arm. “And we have other plans, thank you very much.”
“Yes, a movie,” Carol laughed, rolling her eyes and letting herself be led away. “Enjoy! And we’ll see you in the morning.”
“Are you a big opera fan, Michelle?” Simon asked, draining his glass as they moved toward the door.
“I haven’t been to all that many,” Kate began, and then opted for the truth. Something she would have to do sooner or later. “I’ve never been, actually. Unless you count Chess, Les Mis and Jesus Christ Superstar.”
Simon sent her a doleful look. “I’m going to ignore that last bit,” he informed her haughtily. “But I’m pleased for you. You’re in for a real treat, in that case, your first proper opera.”
Kate was too excited to bother defending her favourite and much-maligned art form, although she made a mental note to set Simon straight another time.
“Michelle has a past on stage, performing musicals,” Sebastien informed him, looking amused as he helped Kate with her coat and ushered her out the door. “So you might not want to knock them. At least, not in front of her.”
Simon raised his eyebrows at Sebastien as they headed toward the lift. “I thought you had sworn off all actresses and models for the rest of your life,” he teased his friend, pressing the button for the elevator and sending his friend a challenging look.
“Well, as you said, acting in musicals doesn’t really count,” Sebasten responded with a laugh. “People like you keep the performers from getting too high an opinion of themselves with your casual dismissal of their careers.”
They stepped into the lift and Simon smiled a bit sheepishly at Kate. “Excuse me
for that rude lack of respect. Very insensitive of me. Of course, if I was more sensitive, maybe I’d appreciate musicals better. Or maybe I’m just still smarting from being passed over in the casting of “The Pirates of Penzance” back in school. I was hoping to be the very model of a modern major general, or at least a
pirate king. Instead I moved props between scenes.”
Kate nodded her head in Sebastien’s direction. “Don’t worry, he did the same,” she told Simon with a grin. “Completely dissed musicals, romantic comedies and women in one fell swoop, if I remember right.”
Sebastien pretended to look injured. “Such accusations. That’s the problem with these artistic types, always so sensitive. Taking offence at the slightest whiff of anything less than blind adulation for their craft.”
“Misunderstood geniuses,” Kate supplied. “Was that the term you were looking for?”
He made a great show of ignoring her and turned to Simon. “Watch out, lad, I had an earful of defensive delusion about how musical comedies could change the world. Apparently “the Sound of Music” is every genre of film known to man plus a few more, historico-cultural-biographical-revolutionary-avant-garde-documentary-thriller, I think it was. Don’t even let her start expounding on the merits of “Hair” or “Rent” or we could be here for the rest of our miserable, but musical, lives.”
“Just so you know, Simon, I only ever used to do it for fun,” Kate put in hastily. “My acting, that is. I just love music that you can sing along with.”
They had reached the ground floor and stepped out into the chill of the evening, where Sebastien hailed the waiting taxi. “I prefer not to drive tonight so that we can taste a few wines over dinner,” he explained as the car pulled up. “And although it’s not far to the theatre, you might find it a bit chilly tonight to walk.”
“Well, Michelle, I think you’ll love opera, although I don’t recommend that you sing along,” Simon said sagely as he walked around to the passenger side, leaving the back seat for Kate and Sebastien. “And it’s la Traviata, which is a good introduction to opera.”