An Unbreakable Bond (6 page)

“And you’re the wedding planner?” Amusement glinted in his eyes.

“Obviously,” she replied tartly as she met his gaze with a challenge.

Tristan didn’t know whether to shake her or throw her over his shoulders and carry her out of the shop to his cave like a primordial barbarian. A mixture of anger and elation darted across his face and ten years melted away as he flashed his eyes at her. “If I’m the fiancé and you’re the wedding planner, then that must mean you’re at my beck and call for the next three months?”

Teasing her as he’d always done, she took the bait, “Hardly, your royal lowliness!” She put her hands on her hips ready for battle.

“Still as stubborn as ever,” he smirked.

“Still as arrogant,” she retorted.

Everything around her seemed to slow down and fade away, she cocked her head. “You seem…bigger somehow.”

He laughed. “I’ll take that as a compliment. And you seem to have left behind the tomboy look.” He wanted to say more and tell her how beautiful she was, but the shock had made him feel awkward.

Clearing her throat, she caught Cara’s questioning look. “So, erm, you’re getting married then…to each other?” What a stupid question, but she never thought any meeting between them would be one where she was organising his wedding to someone else!

She waited with baited breath as Cara stepped forward and possessively took hold of his arm. “Darling, let me introduce you, although it appears to be unnecessary.”

Annabelle watched her as she smiled up at him like a Cheshire cat.

“This is Miss Annabelle Summers our wedding planner.”

Turning that same gaze to her, she noticed how the smile mutated into becoming one of a smug cat after it had licked the bowl clean of thick double cream.

“And this, Annabelle, is my fiancé, Tristan Hemsley-Ford, in line to be Lord Hemsley-Ford the tenth and I am to be Lady Hemsley-Ford.”

Did she actually just say that with her nose in the air? Annabelle laughed. This was utterly unbelievable! Here was miss social climber and Tristan, the man who had haunted her dreams since she was thirteen, standing together in her shop talking about titles and weddings!

The laugh was in danger of becoming full hysteria. No way could she let that happen. At full explosion she would run the risk of snorting spittle all over the Cheshire cat! Reigning in the bubble of mirth, she looked expectantly at Tristan, noting how his raw virile masculine energy and the sheer size of his powerful lithe body made her shop shrink in size.

“Damn it Cara! I know who she is. She’s my old best friend’s little sister. ” Gone was the teasing mood, as he sneered at the word ‘sister’.

Remembering the humiliation from ten years ago, she recoiled, but she wasn’t going to be beaten. Holding out her hand for him to shake, she decided to muster as much professional calmness as she could and treat him as she would any other client. “Well, it’s nice to see you again Tristan, it’s been a long time. How have you been?” Hiding how much this meeting was affecting her behind a wall of courteous pleasantry made her feel better, but somehow she knew he’d seen straight through her.

Ice cold steel flashed in his eyes, challenging her cool façade. Ignoring the outstretched hand, he folded his arms and smirked. “It’s been ten years actually. Ten years since I last saw you and Wade, and look at you now, all grown up with your own business. Is there a Mr. Summers on the scene?”

“I…erm…no, there’s no Mr. Summers.” Was it possible for her cheeks to burn even more?

He raised an eyebrow. “Ah, that’s a shame. I thought you’d have lured an unsuspecting male into your lair and had a swaddle of children by now.”

She tensed. Was that a joke? Did he know about April? No, that would be impossible. Relief and then spite raised its ugly head. “Oh, I’m so sorry to disappoint you Mr Playboy of the year.” She watched his lips turn into a thin line. “What’s the matter? Only just made enough millions recently to keep one woman by your side for longer than a few weeks?” If he was a horse right now his nostrils would be flaring.

The corners of his mouth curled upwards in a sneer. “Maybe something happened ten years ago that made me believe women were nothing but scheming bitches that go around stamping on hearts?”

Had she stamped on his heart? She felt a flutter in the pit of her stomach. “Ah, but that would require you to have a heart in the first place.” She was dripping with sarcasm, but she just didn’t care.

He pointed his finger angrily at her. “Your actions back then caused untold destruction and loss between my family and friends!”

They were entering into dangerous ground and she could feel Cara’s eyes boring into her, so she blanked his anger and put on her business tone. “Okay, enough about the past Tristan. Nothing can change the past, so let’s get back to why you are both here today.” She took a deep breath and pointedly looked at Cara. “All your requirements for the wedding have been organised. I have typed out a full itinerary. All that remains to be seen is the exhibition tomorrow to confirm the photographer, Katie Sharpe. I hope you don’t mind, but I took the liberty on your behalf to agree to full media coverage, as the ballroom venue is to be a rare event at Blickling Hall.” Even though she avoided his gaze, she could feel the force of his anger in the ether between them and his battle at reining it in. It made her shake inside.

Cara smiled sweetly. “This little friend of yours Tristan is proving to be worth her weight in gold.
Media coverage for the future Lord and Lady of Edingthorpe Hall.
Oh, it just doesn’t get any better than this!”

Smiling weakly, Annabelle held out the file and Tristan reached for it, but her nerves got the better of her and she let it go a little too soon. They watched helplessly as it fell to the ground and the contents spilled out across the floor. Feeling flustered, Annabelle bent to pick them up and Tristan dropped down beside her, whilst Cara clicked her phone open to take an incoming call.

They were so close she could feel his body heat and he was wearing the same cologne that he’d worn ten years ago. He stretched over for a sheet of loose paper and she noticed how his shirt tightened across his chest and her body responded to the outline of the muscles underneath. He was broader than she remembered and desire rolled through her veins. Shakily, she reached out for the same bunch of papers as he did and his fingers grazed over the top of hers. A sheer electric thrill overpowered her and she quickly pulled back.

Turning to look at her, he raised his eyebrow questioningly. “Afraid I will burn you?”

“No, but maybe you have a contagious disease which could kill me dead in ten seconds flat,” she snapped back.

“1, 2, 3, 4, 5…”

“You’re so annoying.”

“6, 7, 8, 9, 10…Still alive then?”

She tutted loudly and stood up, leaving Tristan to pick up the remainder of the papers.

Cara finished on the phone and clicked it closed. Looking at Annabelle, she snickered. “I think everything is finished here.”

Tristan got up and plonked the papers on the desk. The close proximity to Annabelle was wrenching at every fibre of his being and he had to get out of the shop, fast. “Everything seems to be in order.” He looked at his watch. “You have our contact details if you need us before Sunday, so nice to see you again Annabelle and thank you for your time.”

“The pleasure was all mine,” she replied sweetly.

“I’m sure it was,” he drawled, dripping with irony.

She quickly looked away.

Taking Cara by the elbow he led her to the door. “Cara, I need to be at another appointment by ten to discuss opening an office branch in Norwich.”

Cara did a final up and down assessment of Annabelle. A look of satisfaction crossed her face. Obviously, she’d come to some sort of conclusion whereby the sight of Annabelle did not appear to pose any real threat and so her final words were pleasantly spoken, “See you on Sunday at Blickling Hall.”

The door closed behind them and Annabelle slumped onto the sofa in a daze. Suddenly, she bolted upright. If Tristan is here then that means he could be staying at Edingthorpe Hall. Panic fluttered in her chest, she had to make sure that he did not find out about April. It would take very little effort for him to question old friends in the village and find out where she lived. This was worse than a nightmare, it was catastrophic. They would have to keep a low profile, perhaps even stay away from the village until he left.

Tristan leaned back against the cool leather in the limo, but he couldn’t relax, his whole body was as tense as a spring. The raging beauty that had stood before him in the shop was far removed from the little tomboy that he knew as Annabelle, possibly even more dangerous than the woman who had seduced him. A surge of anger and lust cursed through him. This Annabelle was more than he remembered, she was confident, sexy and all woman with curves that would bring any man to his knees.

He ran his fingers through his hair. She owed him ten years of being without Wade and his grandfather and she was going to pay him back one way or another.

He closed his eyes and drummed his finger tips on the arm rest. There was a score to settle.

Chapter 4

Katie was watching the door with trepidation. Annabelle had phoned her last night in a complete fluster, garbling on about Tristan being the fiancé and to warn her about him coming to the exhibition, and more importantly, not to showcase April!

The small art gallery was directly in the exclusive riverside area of the city and there were going to be a lot of important people arriving throughout the day who could help her career spring from the middle of the rung to the elite top.

Sighing, she bit her nails again for the countless time that morning. Worry had kept her awake all night because her most prestigious pieces of work were of April. The photos had been taken in March as
Spring
came into full bloom and they had turned out beautifully. The debate to remove them or keep them on show had been going on inside of her now for twelve hours. In the end, she’d decided to showcase them and sent up a prayer that Annabelle would understand. Hopefully, Tristan wouldn’t be interested enough in her work to look too closely and notice any resemblance. She rolled her eyes; you would have to be completely brainless not to see the similarity! Or perhaps, secretly, she was hoping he would realise the likeness?

She’d not seen Tristan since the night of his leaving ball ten years ago. Excitement, anger and pity all rolled into one described her emotions well. What would she say to him knowing that he was completely in the dark about his own child? Being close friends with Annabelle is what had silenced her these last ten years, and maybe by showcasing April it would give him some sort of subliminal message about a life he knew nothing about. It was either going to go in her favour, where he and Annabelle would re-discover each other, or she’d just opened the gates to hell. Either way, she was toast!

The gallery door opened and Katie chewed the inside of her cheek as she saw Tristan enter followed by Cara. Stood amongst a small group of people studying her work, she excused herself and made her way to the door. “Tristan,” she exclaimed. “It’s been so long, how lovely to see you again.” She greeted him and kissed each cheek. Annabelle was right, he was definitely all male!

“And you must be Cara.” She held out her hand. “Annabelle has told me so much about you.” She noticed that Cara squirmed a little before taking it.

Smiling warmly, Tristan glanced around. “Wow Katie, I never thought you would become a photographer. I’d always thought of you as a prime time news reporter in dangerous countries.”

“Give me half a chance and I would,” she laughed, as she watched Cara slink away to look at some enlarged prints on the far wall.

The gallery had two rooms, the front room where they were stood, which was full of wedding pictures and other celebratory prints and an archway leading into the back room, which held pictures that were more serious and artistic in nature. The artwork of April was in the back room.

Panicking, she kept repeating to herself like a mad mantra. “Keep him in this room…keep him in this room.”

Covertly leading Tristan to the wall of weddings, she discussed some points, whilst keeping an eye on Cara, who was getting dangerously close to the archway. “Cara, we have prints over here of an August wedding at Blickling Hall. Would you like to see them?”

But she ignored her.

Katie champed down hard on the inside of her mouth and winced. This was worse than rounding up sheep! And before she could even bat an eyelid, Cara had slunk through the archway.

Oh crap!

It took all of five seconds before she heard her call Tristan.

Shrugging at Katie, he strolled through the arch.

Cara gripped his arm and pointed. “Look at these pictures of this girl, they’re just stunning!” She turned to Katie. “Are these pictures for sale?”

Katie put on her best smile.
“Unfortunately, no.
The owner is a client of mine and she has loaned them for the day as examples of my work.”

“Humph,” sighed Cara with disappointment. “But anyone can be bought if the price is good enough. Who owns these? Where can I contact them?”