Her Deal with the Devil. Nicola Marsh
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Sapphie shook her head and stuffed her hand into her pocket. ‘You know better than that. The guy flirts all the time. It’s his thing.’
Ruby shifted her weight from side to side, bouncing on the balls of her feet. ‘Well, his thing is making you glow.’
‘Bull.’
Ruby grabbed her arm and dragged her to a window. ‘Go ahead. Look.’
Blowing out an exasperated breath, Sapphie glanced at the glass. Even through a film of dust and rain spots she could see pink cheeks and wide eyes. But it was the expression in those eyes, the glazed confusion of a thoroughly bamboozled woman, that sent her hopes of forgetting the past spiralling on a downward trajectory.
She might despise Patrick and all he stood for, but he appealed to her on some visceral level she had no hope of explaining.
It hadn’t made sense back then and it sure as hell didn’t make sense a decade later that the guy she could quite happily have strangled had something that made her want to explore beneath his flaky surface.
‘Been a while since I’ve seen you look like this. A long while.’ Ruby slung an arm across her shoulders and led her inside. ‘Suits you.’
‘I was doing a few yoga poses outside. That glow…? Must’ve caught too much sun.’
Ruby laughed and hugged her. ‘You’re cute when you’re in denial.’
‘Nothing to deny. Patrick and I will soon be colleagues, hopefully.’
If she hadn’t botched it. First impressions counted in her business and considering he was CEO of Fourde Fashion’s new Aussie branch, she’d hazard a guess they counted with him too.
Having him discover her in the tree pose, followed by the verbal sparring they’d always been unable to resist, didn’t bode well.
At least she hadn’t called him any nasty names—something she vaguely recalled doing just before their final exams, when he’d particularly annoyed her with his goofing off.
‘Just colleagues, huh?’ Ruby bustled into the tiny makeshift kitchen at the back of the showroom and flicked on the kettle. ‘Wonder if he’ll greet you with a kiss on the hand every day you work together?’
Sapphie’s heart splatted at the thought. ‘It’s a French thing. Means nothing.’
‘Hmm…’ Ruby popped peppermint teabags into two mugs and propped herself against the bench as she waited for the kettle to boil. ‘Wonder if that “thing” extends to French kissing?’
The nibble of a double-coated Tim Tam stuck in Sapphie’s throat and she choked, coughing and spluttering, while Ruby poured boiling water into the mugs and grinned.
After a few thumps on her chest, which cleared her throat but did little for her pounding heart and the thought of getting anywhere near Patrick’s lips again, Sapphie gratefully took the proffered tea.
‘Considering I need to wow him with the presentation tomorrow, you’re not helping.’
Ruby’s smile waned. ‘You’re not getting too wound up about this, are you? Because Seaborns is doing okay since the auction and there’s plenty of time for you to get back into the swing of things.’
Sapphie cradled her mug, savouring the warmth infusing her palms, and inhaled the fresh minty steam. A six-espressos-a-day gal, she’d never thought it possible she could become hooked on herbal alternatives. But her time out at Tenang had taught her many things—the importance of self-worth being one of the biggies.
She needed to do this, needed to secure Seaborns’ future once and for all. Not from any warped sense of obligation to protect her little sister from the hardships of the family business. Not because of the promise she made to her mum on her deathbed.
For her. For Sapphire Seaborn, who loved this jewellery company and all it stood for, who secretly wanted her kids to run proudly along these polished floorboards one day, who wanted to prove to herself she didn’t have to be a stress-head to be the best in this business and could physically handle the pressures of the only job she’d ever known—the job she valued above all else.
Her brush with chronic fatigue syndrome had left her weak and debilitated. She never wanted to feel that frail again. Ever.
Resuming her position as leader of Seaborns and doing a damn good job was more about proving to herself that she was past her vulnerabilities than anything else.
She had to test her physical capabilities, had to prove she could handle whatever the future held.
‘You and Jax pulled off a coup with the auction. Proceeds are still coming in.’
Ruby shrugged, her bashful smirk not fooling Sapphie for a second. Her creative genius sister loved accolades, and the fact that every one of her signature Seaborn pieces had been snapped up at a recent gala auction had ensured orders flooded in. And kept Seaborns viable.
Something she now intended to do. Her way.
‘We did okay.’ A coy smile curved Ruby’s lips. ‘For two people who couldn’t see what was right in front of their noses ’til it was almost too late.’
Even now Sapphie could hardly believe Ruby and Jax had fallen in love and made their marriage real in every way that counted. The two were worlds apart yet they connected on a deep emotional level she sometimes envied.
What would it be like to be so into another person you were willing to tie yourself to them to life?
The way she was practically married to Seaborns, she’d probably never know.
‘I’m so happy for you.’ Sapphie’s eyes misted over and she blamed it on the steam from her peppermint tea.
‘Thanks, sis.’ Ruby sipped at her tea before lowering it to pin her with a probing stare. ‘So what are you going to do?’
‘About?’
‘Patrick Fourde.’
Damn, even hearing the guy’s name made her belly knot with trepidation.
‘I’m going to make him an offer he can’t refuse.’
‘Not about work.’ Ruby rolled her eyes. ‘About what I saw out the back.’
Sapphie didn’t want to think about what had happened out the back. She didn’t want to give credence to a single thing the flirtatious charmer had said or done.
She surreptitiously rubbed the back of her hand where the imprint from his lips lingered to prove it.
He’d been goading her like in the bad old days, nothing more. The fact she’d let him get to her—not good.
She was older and wiser now. Time to prove she could work with him without letting his deliberate barbs affect her.
‘He