smile only wavered for one infinitesimal second as she took in the tall, broad-shouldered man, his dark jacket and jeans showcasing lean, powerful muscles, his hair swept back off his face, dark eyes as cold as the December air.
‘Hello.’ Her voice stayed calm and in control as she held out a hand. ‘Alexandra Davenport.’
The man’s gaze only grew more sardonic as he took her hand in his. His clasp was strong, almost too strong, as if he had something to prove.
‘Finn Hawkin. But you knew that. Didn’t you, Lola?’
FINN LOOSENED HIS grip and Alex withdrew her hand from his in a smooth gesture.
‘I go by Alexandra now.’
‘I know. Alexandra Davenport, I believe? Of course Alexandra is your middle name.’
He noted her slight blink of acknowledgement with satisfaction. Maybe she wasn’t quite as calm as she seemed. ‘Where’s the Davenport from?’
‘My grandmother’s maiden name.’ She stepped back and looked around before her cool gaze rested on him once again, understanding in her grey eyes. ‘Hawkin...hawk. Of course. I see. You always did say you’d earn enough to own somewhere like Blakeley some day. I didn’t think you actually meant Blakeley itself, but that wasn’t the first time I underestimated you. Congratulations, Finn, you’ve obviously done very well.’
Finn had been rehearsing this meeting for the last few hours. Ever since he’d heard about his Head of PR, Penelope, having an accident. No, longer than that. Since the summer, when he had glimpsed Lola across the ballroom floor and done some digging into the agency which had organised the Armarian Midsummer Ball and its four founders. From the moment he’d realised that Alexandra Davenport was exactly who he thought she was.
Lola Beaumont was unfinished business. Business he needed to resolve in order to move on once and for all—especially now that he was master of Blakeley and all that entailed. He had to focus on the future, on his nieces, and let go all the regrets that still haunted him. And he could only do that by confronting the past—and the woman who dominated it.
And then the fates had aligned, for good or for ill, and he had taken advantage of them. Penelope’s accident was more than unfortunate, coming at such a very crucial time. The castle would be opening to the public for the first time in its history this weekend, and he needed an experienced pair of hands to manage all the resulting publicity. Who better than the woman who had grown up here? Who now worked as a PR consultant?
The Lola he’d known would have reacted to her homecoming in some dramatic fashion, with tears or laughter equally likely, but this new version radiated a disconcerting cool calmness. A calmness he hadn’t anticipated, hadn’t prepared for. Nor had he missed her slight emphasis on the words ‘underestimated’.
His mouth tightened. He didn’t reply, not at first, taking a moment to observe the woman who had been his oldest friend—and his first love.
‘You didn’t know I founded Hawk?’
He didn’t hide his polite disbelief. Maybe she’d walked away and never so much as typed his name into a search engine or on a social media site, but his business was a global brand, and as founder and CEO he had been extensively profiled.
Alex was a PR professional. It didn’t seem possible that she had no idea of who he had become and what he’d achieved.
But her smile was apologetic. ‘Sorry. Outdoor pursuits aren’t my speciality and nor is clothing. I’m aware of Hawk, of course, but you’ve never been a rival of any of my clients, so I haven’t ever needed to investigate further. That was why I was so surprised when Amber said you had requested me specifically. I have to say I am even more surprised now I’m here. Finn, obviously it’s flattering that you would like me to cover your PR. But, given everything, I don’t think that our working together is in any way a good idea.’
‘Everything?’ He kept his voice icily smooth, but she still didn’t react, her expression unruffled.
‘Our shared history.’
He raised an eyebrow. ‘Shared history? That’s one way of putting it, I suppose.’
He stopped himself from saying anything else, from letting the bitter words he’d been holding back for ten years come spilling out. He was no longer a young man with no idea how to handle his emotions, how to cope with accusations and betrayal and heartbreak.
‘However, that’s exactly why you’re perfect for this job. After all, you know the castle better than anyone else.’
Again, just a blink as her reaction. Finn folded his arms and waited for her to respond, refusing to allow her calmness to throw him. After all, whether she called herself Alexandra Davenport or Lola Beaumont, there was one thing he knew for sure: she didn’t just know Blakeley Castle, she loved it with every fibre of her fiery being.
But, he conceded as he studied her, this woman wasn’t fiery. Gone was the platinum blonde hair and dramatic eyeliner, the cutting-edge fashion and almost fey wildness. Instead Alexandra’s hair was her natural light brown, neatly pinned up, her make-up discreet, her clothes professional. There was nothing wild in the way she stood, nor in her eyes. Instead Finn noted her absolute air of control. Was there any trace of Lola trapped inside this stranger?
‘The castle, yes. Your brand, no.’
‘But you specialise in short-term jobs, in getting up to speed quickly,’ he pointed out silkily. ‘I have a whole team who can manage Hawk’s PR work. What I need is someone to help me launch Blakeley Castle as a destination. Your expertise and knowledge make you the logical choice. Your colleague, Amber, didn’t think there would be any problem.’
‘Amber doesn’t know that I have any personal connection to Blakeley—or to you,’ she added in a low voice. ‘So of course she wouldn’t foresee any conflict of interest. But there are conflicts, and it’s my professional opinion that you would be better off with one of our excellent consultants instead of me. I can think of at least three who would be perfect. I propose I go back to London now and send you their profiles. I can make sure your preferred candidate is with you by the end of the day. I’m sorry you have wasted your time. It’s unfortunate that I was out of contact when you called.’
She picked up her bag and took a decisive step back.
‘I’m glad to see you’ve done so well, Finn. I look forward to our companies working together. I’m sure it will be a successful partnership.’
Not so fast. He hadn’t got her back just to watch her drive off into the sunset with nothing resolved.
‘You’ve signed a contract.’
Her eyes flickered. ‘And we’ll honour that contract...’
‘The contract specifies you, Alex. That you will work here at Blakeley Castle until Christmas Eve. Not one of your consultants, however excellent they may be.’
‘Yes, but—’
‘It’s you I have employed,
