further into the bubbles so that all he could see was her hair piled into a messy knot on the top of her head. Little tendrils had escaped and were curling in the heat; his hands itched with the need to touch them.
‘What other sort is there?’ It was hard to make conversation knowing that she was naked and wet. Totally exposed and yet completely veiled. Whose idea was it to put a bath in the middle of the bedroom? Probably Lola’s. If he weren’t so angry with his ex-designer’s lack of professionalism he would track her down and offer her a bonus. It was genius. That was it; every building he designed from now on would have a bath in the middle of a room. Even if it was supposed to be an office. Or a shopping centre.
Flora moved and the water lapped against the side of the bath, the sound another tantalising reminder of her undressed state. ‘This is a ball-preparation bath. It involves all kinds of depilation, exfoliating, filing and moisturising.’
‘Sounds serious.’ He took a step closer to her, then another. Each step unveiled a little bit more, the tilt of her face, rosy from the hot water, her long neck a delicate blush pink. Then bubbles, clothing the rest of her, although if he craned his neck and looked really hard there were a few intriguing gaps in the white suds revealing hints of interesting things.
‘It is. Deadly serious. Did you find everything you wanted at the Christmas markets?’
‘Yep. Eventually. I had a long hard morning on the slopes first. Gustav was desolated that you missed your last day’s lessons. He had a particularly challenging slope ready for you. So what have you been doing while I was skiing and shopping?’
‘Ugh.’ The sigh was long and heartfelt. ‘I have spent most of the day sat at my laptop video-calling Minerva. Although you’ll never guess what she was wearing...’
Alex’s mouth curved into a slow smile. He knew Minerva. ‘Last Christmas’s skirt.’
‘And a scarf I gave her a couple of years ago in her hair. Nice to know my presents suddenly have value. Not that I should complain. She has sorted everything. Although she’s set up a couple of interviews for next week.’ She sounded apprehensive. ‘Face to face and photos, which is not good news after all the Kaffee and Kuchen I’ve had—especially the Kuchen.’
‘Don’t forget your dad’s five-course Christmas dinner,’ Alex reminded her helpfully and laughed as she groaned.
‘Don’t—you know how upset he gets if we skip anything—and he thinks that seconds is the only real way of gauging a dish’s success. But I am really grateful. She’s taken over the social media and created waiting lists, replied to all the emails and soothed every fashion editor’s ruffled feathers. Her poor staff, two days before Christmas, and she pulled a three-line whip. I almost feel guilty that I’m luxuriating in this bath—and then I remember that this too is work.’ She sank a little further into the steaming water with a small purr of pleasure.
‘How much is she charging you?’
‘That’s the best bit. It’s my Christmas present. She’s keeping the exorbitantly expensive scented candles she had bought me, which are far more her bag anyway, and is giving me her staff’s toil instead, nicely wrapped with a big bow on top.’
Alex bit back a smile. ‘How very generous of her, although a cynical person would point out that it’s not doing her any harm. You’re the one in demand. She’s handling the buzz, not creating it.’
‘It’s two days before Christmas and I’m about to go to a ball. No cynicism allowed.’
Alex perched on the edge of the bathtub and looked down at her. ‘How are you feeling about your designs being out there?’
Her eyelashes fell. ‘Half excited, half terrified. Naked—and not just because I am.’
‘That’s how it should be,’ he told her. ‘Even when you’re working to a brief there should be a little something of you in there. You should be exposed, otherwise you haven’t gone as far as you could have.’
She raised an eyebrow. ‘Always? Even when I had to rebrand the Village Inns wine bar chain and they wanted pinks and lime greens and bits of fruit everywhere?’
‘Especially then. Otherwise what’s the point? That’s why I struck out on my own so early. I wanted to be able to pick and choose my own work—that doesn’t mean I don’t listen to my clients though. There has to be a balance. I wonder...’ He paused, not wanting to push too much when she was still adjusting.
‘Wonder what?’
Oh, well, in for a penny... ‘At your degree show it was obvious your passion—and a huge amount of your talent—lay in textile design. It shows every Christmas, with every gift you make. But you’ve never tried to make it your career. You set your sights on interior design and took the first job you were offered even though you hated their whole brand.’
‘Hate’s a bit strong...’ she protested. ‘Wholeheartedly disliked maybe. That’s why it would never have worked with Finn. Even if he hadn’t been a golf-obsessed workaholic, he really loved the branding.’
‘It wouldn’t have worked with Finn because he was an idiot.’ Alex’s teeth began to grind just at the thought of Flora’s ex. How a girl with such good taste had such bad taste in men he would never know.
Not that he was any improvement. Actually that was untrue. A warthog was an improvement on Finn.
‘Good point.’
‘So why haven’t you tried to sell your designs before? Into shops or to fashion designers? It seems like the perfect path for you.’
‘I guess because I don’t design fabric to make money. I do it because I love it.’
‘Exactly. Why shouldn’t you do what you love? I do. Your whole family does. Don’t you deserve to as well?’
She slithered further down into the water, as if she were hiding from the question. ‘It’s different for you. You know what you want. You don’t let anything stand in your way. That thing you said, about having a piece of you in everything you do? I see that in your work. In this hotel, in your designs for Bali. And it’s wonderful. But it’s so exposing.’
‘And that frightens you?’
‘If people hate the neon limes, and they mostly will, then that’s fine. It’s not my creatives they hate. I’m just following the brief. But if they hate my scarves or my quilts or my bags, things I’ve poured love and attention into? That feels like I’ve failed—again. Like I’ve been rejected again. I don’t want the things I love tainted.’
Alex reached out and twisted one of the piled-up tendrils of dark silky hair around his finger. ‘Everything worthwhile comes with a price, Flora.’
She sighed. ‘Sometimes the price is too high. I don’t want to feel that exposed. I’ve spent my whole life being judged. Noticed because of my height, leered at because I was a teenager with big boobs, every teacher pointing out how unlike my siblings I was. My parents dragging me onto TV. I just want to be anonymous.’
His voice softened as he pulled at the curl. ‘But you’re out there now. You need to harden up, think about the next step.’
‘It’s
