Harlequin Romance April 2015 Box Set (58 page)

‘Unless,’ she said, ‘you collaborated with other manufacturers—ones who already have the factory set-up and the staff. Maybe you could license them
to use your toffee.’

‘That’s a great idea. And I could draw up a shortlist of other family-run businesses whose ideas and ethos are the same as Farrell’s. People who’d make good business partners.’

‘That’s your dream, isn’t it?’ she asked softly. ‘To keep your heritage—but to put your own stamp on it.’

‘I guess. Research and development was always my favourite thing,’ he admitted.
‘I wanted to look at developing different flavours of toffee. Something different from mint, treacle, orange or nut. I was thinking cinnamon or ginger for Christmas, or maybe special seasonal editions of the chocolate hearts—say a strawberries and cream version for summer.’

‘That’s a great idea,’ she said. ‘Maybe white chocolate.’

‘And different packaging,’ he said. ‘Something to position
Farrell’s hearts as the kind of thing you buy as special treats.’

‘You could sell them in little boxes as well as big ones,’ she said. ‘For people who want a treat but don’t want a big box.’

He kissed her. ‘I’m beginning to think that I should employ you on my R and D team.’

‘Now that,’ she said, ‘really wouldn’t work. I’m used to doing things my way and I’d hate to have to go by
someone else’s rules all the while. Besides, I don’t want you bossing me about and I think we’d end up fighting.’

He wrinkled his nose. ‘I don’t want to fight with you, Claire—I like how things are now.’

‘Me, too,’ she admitted.

‘Make love, not war—that’s a great slogan, you know.’

She grinned. ‘Just as long as it’s not all talk and no action, Mr Farrell.’

He laughed.
‘I can take a hint.’ And he kissed her until she was dizzy.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

O
VER
THE
NEXT
couple of weeks, Claire and Sean grew closer. Claire didn’t get to see Sean every evening, but she talked to him every day and found herself really looking forward to the times they did see each other. And even on days when things were frustrating and refused to go right, or she had a client who changed her mind about what she wanted at least twice
a day, it wasn’t so bad because Claire knew she would be seeing Sean or talking to him later.

And he indulged her by taking her to one of her favourite places—the Victoria and Albert Museum. She took him to see her favourite pieces of clothing, showing him the fabrics, the shapes and the stitching that had inspired some of her own designs. When they stopped for a cold drink in the café, she
looked at him.

‘Sorry. I rather went into nerd mode. You should have told me to shut up.’

He smiled. ‘Actually, I really enjoyed it.’

‘But I was lecturing you, making you look at fiddly bits and pieces that probably bored you stupid.’

‘You were lit up, Claire. Clothing design is your passion. And it was a privilege to see it,’ he said softly. He reached across the table, took
her hand and drew it to his lips. ‘Don’t ever lose that passion.’

He’d accepted her for who she was, Claire thought with sudden shock. The first man she’d ever dated who’d seen who she was, accepted it, and encouraged her to do what she loved.

In turn, Sean gave her a personal guided tour of the toffee factory. ‘I’m afraid the white coat and the hair covering are non-negotiable,’ he
said.

‘Health and safety. This is a working factory. And the clothes are about function, not form—just as they should be,’ she said.

‘I guess.’ He took her through the factory, explaining what the various stages were and letting her taste the different products.

‘I love the fact you’re still using your great-grandparents’ recipe for the toffee,’ she said. ‘And the photographs.’
She’d noticed the blown-up photographs from years before lining the walls in the reception area. ‘It’s lovely to see that connection over the years.’

‘A bit like you,’ he said, ‘and the way you hand-decorate a dress exactly the same as they would’ve done it two hundred years ago.’

‘I guess.’

They were halfway through when Sean’s sales manager came over.

‘Sean, I’m really sorry
to interrupt,’ he said, smiling acknowledgement at Claire. ‘I’m afraid we’ve got a bit of a situation.’

‘Hey—don’t mind me,’ Claire said. ‘The business comes first. I can do a tour at any time.’

‘Thanks,’ Sean said. ‘What’s the problem, Will?’

‘I had the press on the phone earlier, talking about the takeover bid,’ Will said. ‘I explained that it’s not happening and Farrell’s is
carrying on exactly as before, but someone’s clearly been spreading doubts among our biggest customers, because I’ve been fielding phone calls ever since. And one of our customers in particular says he wants to talk to the organ grinder, not the monkey.’

‘You’re my sales manager,’ Sean said. ‘Which makes you as much of an organ grinder as I am.’

Will looked awkward. ‘Not in Mel Archer’s
eyes.’

‘Ah.
Him.
’ Sean grimaced. ‘Claire, would you mind if I let Will finish the tour with you?’

‘Sure,’ she said.

‘I’ll talk to Archer and explain the situation to him,’ Sean said. ‘And I’ll make it very clear to him that I trust my senior team to do their jobs well and use their initiative.’

‘Sorry.’

‘It’s not your fault,’ Sean said. ‘I’ll see you later, Claire.’

She smiled at him. ‘No worries. I’ll wait for you in reception.’

‘Sorry. It’s the monkey rather than the organ grinder for you, too,’ Will said.

She smiled. ‘Sean says you’re an organ grinder. That’s good enough for me.’

Will finished taking her round and answered all her questions. Including ones she knew she probably shouldn’t ask but couldn’t help herself; this was a chance
to see another side of Sean.

‘So have you worked for Sean for long?’ she asked Will.

‘Three years,’ Will said. ‘And he’s probably the best manager I’ve ever worked with. He doesn’t micromanage—he trusts you to get on and do your job, though he’s always there if things get sticky.’

‘Which I guess they would be, in a toffee factory,’ Claire said with a smile.

Will laughed. ‘Yeah.
Pun not actually intended. What I mean is he knows the business inside out. He’s there if you need support, and if there’s a problem you can’t solve he’ll have an answer—though what he does is ask you questions to make you think a bit more about it and work it out for yourself.’

So her super-efficient businessman liked to teach people and develop his staff, too. And it was something she knew
he wouldn’t have told her himself.

From the half of the tour Sean had given her and the insights Will added, Claire realised that maybe Sean really was living his dream; he really did love the factory and his job, and not just because it was his heritage and he felt duty-bound to preserve it for the next generation. Though she rather thought that if he’d had a choice in the matter, he would’ve
worked in the research and development side of the business.

‘He’s a good man,’ she said, meaning it.

* * *

When Ashleigh and Luke returned from their honeymoon, they invited Claire over to see the wedding photographs. She arrived bearing champagne and brownies. Sean was there already, and she gave him a cool nod of acknowledgement before cooing over the photographs and choosing
the ones she wanted copies of.

A little later, he offered to help her make coffee. ‘Have I done something to upset you?’ he asked softly when they were alone in Ashleigh’s kitchen.

‘No.’ Clare frowned. ‘What makes you think that?’

‘Just you seemed a little cool with me tonight.’

‘In front of Ash, yes—she expects me to be just on the verge of civil with you. If I’m nice to you,
she’s going to guess something’s going on, and I don’t want her to know about this.’ Claire took a deep breath. ‘She’s already asked me a couple of questions, and I told her we came to a kind of truce in Capri—once you realised it wasn’t my fault her wedding dress disappeared—and you were one step away from grovelling.’

‘You told her I was
grovelling
?’

Claire grinned. ‘She just laughed
and said grovelling isn’t in your vocabulary, and she’d give it a week before we started sniping at each other again.’

He moved closer. ‘I’m definitely not grovelling, but I’m not sniping either.’ He paused. ‘In fact, I’d rather just kiss you.’

‘I’d rather that, too,’ she said softly, ‘but I’m not ready for Ash to know about this yet.’

‘So I’m your dirty little secret?’

‘For
now—and I’m yours,’ she said.

At the end of the evening, Sean said, ‘Claire, it’s raining—I’ll give you a lift home to save you getting drenched.’

‘This is quite some truce,’ Ashleigh said, giving them both a piercing look. ‘Though you probably won’t make it back to Claire’s before the ceasefire ends.’

‘I won’t fight if she doesn’t,’ Sean said. ‘Claire?’

‘No fighting, and thank
you very much for the offer of the lift.’

Ashleigh narrowed her eyes at both of them, but didn’t say any more.

‘Do you have any idea how close you were to breaking our cover?’ Claire asked crossly on the way home. ‘I’m sure Ash has guessed.’

‘What’s your problem with anyone knowing about you and me?’ Sean asked.

‘Because it’s still early days. And, actually, unless my calendar’s
wrong, you’ll be dumping me in the next few days anyway.’

‘How do you work that out?’

‘Because, Sean Farrell, you never date anyone for more than three weeks in a row.’

‘I don’t dump my girlfriends exactly three weeks in to a relationship,’ he said. ‘That’s a little old and a little unfair.’

‘But you dump them,’ Claire persisted.

‘No, I break up with them nicely and I
make them feel it’s their decision,’ he corrected.

‘When it’s actually yours.’

He shrugged. ‘If it makes them feel better about the situation, what’s the problem?’

‘You’re impossible.’

He laughed. ‘Ashleigh said we wouldn’t make it back to your place before we started fighting. She was right.’

‘I’m not fighting, I’m just making a statement of facts—and don’t you dare kiss
me to shut me up,’ she warned.

‘I can’t kiss you when I’m driving,’ Sean pointed out, ‘so that’s a rain check.’

‘You really are the most exasperating...’ Unable to think of a suitable retort, she lapsed into silence.

‘Besides,’ he said softly, ‘you’d be bored to tears with a yes-man or a lapdog.’

‘Lapdog?’ she asked, not following.

‘“When husbands or when lapdogs breathe
their last.” Alexander Pope,’ he explained helpfully.

She rolled her eyes. ‘I forgot you did English A level.’

‘And dated a couple of English teachers.’

‘Would one of those have been the one who made you see a certain rom-com more than once?’

‘Yes. At least you haven’t done that.’

‘You’re still impossible,’ she grumbled.

‘Yup,’ he said cheerfully.

‘And, excuse
me, you just missed the turning to my place.’

‘Because we’re not going to your place. We’re going to mine.’

‘But I have a bride coming in first thing tomorrow morning for a final fitting,’ she protested.

‘I have a washer-dryer, an alarm clock, a spare unused toothbrush, and I’ll run you home after breakfast.’

She sighed. ‘You’ve got an answer for everything.’

‘Most things,’
he corrected, and she groaned.

‘I give up.’

‘Good,’ he said.

He stripped her very slowly once he’d locked his front door behind them, put her clothes in the laundry, then took her to bed. And he was as good as his word, finding her a spare toothbrush, making her coffee in the morning, making sure her clothes were dried, and taking her home.

She kissed him lingeringly in the
car. ‘See you later. And thanks for the lift.’

* * *

Ashleigh dropped by at lunchtime.

‘Well, hello, stranger—long time, no see,’ Claire teased. ‘What is it, a little over twelve hours?’

‘We’re having lunch,’ Ashleigh said. ‘Now.’

‘Why does this feel as if you’re about to tell me off?’ Claire asked.

‘Because I am. When did this all happen?’

Claire tried to look
innocent. ‘When did all what happen?’

‘You know perfectly well what I mean. You and my brother. And don’t deny it. You’re both acting totally out of character round each other.’

‘He just gave me a lift home last night,’ Claire said, crossing her fingers under the table. It had been a lot more than that.

‘Hmm.’ Ashleigh folded her arms and gave Claire a level stare.

Claire gave
in. ‘Ash, it’s early days. And you know Sean; it’s probably not going to last.’

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

‘Because when it all goes wrong I don’t want our friendship to be collateral damage.’

Ashleigh hugged her. ‘Idiot. Nothing would stop me being friends with you.’

‘Sean doesn’t want you to be collateral damage, either,’ Claire pointed out.

Ashleigh rolled her eyes.
‘I won’t be, and don’t you go overprotective on me like my big brother is—remember I’m older than you.’

‘OK,’ Claire said meekly.

‘I thought something was up when he helped you make coffee, and then when he offered you a lift home...I knew it for sure,’ Ashleigh said.

‘It’s still really, really early days,’ Claire warned.

‘But it’s working,’

‘At the moment. We still fight,
but it’s different now.’ Claire smiled. ‘Sean’s not quite as regimented as I thought he was.’

Ashleigh laughed. ‘Not with you around, he won’t be.’

‘And he’s stopped calling me the Mistress of Chaos.’

‘Good, because you’re not.’ Ashleigh hugged her again. ‘I can’t think of anyone I’d like more as my sister-in-law. I’ve always thought of you as like my sister anyway.’

‘We haven’t
been together long,’ Claire warned, ‘so I’m not promising anything.’

‘I think,’ Ashleigh said, ‘that you’ll be good for each other.’

‘Promise me you won’t say anything? Even to Luke?’

‘It’s a bit too late for Luke,’ Ashleigh said, ‘but I won’t say anything to Sean.’

‘Thank you. And you’ll be the first to know if things move forward. Or,’ Claire said, ‘when we break up.’

* * *

In the two weeks before the wedding show Claire was crazily busy and had almost no free time for dates. Sean took over and brought in takeaways to make sure she ate in the evenings; he also made her take breaks before her eyes started hurting, and gave her massages when her shoulders ached.

Even though part of Claire thought he was being just a little bit overprotective, she was
grateful for the TLC. ‘I really appreciate this, Sean.’

‘I know, and you’d do the same for me if I had an exhibition,’ he pointed out. ‘By the way, I’m in talks with a couple of manufacturers about joint projects and licensing. Talking to you and brainstorming stuff like that,’ he said, ‘really helped me see the way I want the company to go in the future.’

‘Following your dreams?’

‘Maybe,’ he said with a smile, and kissed her.

* * *

The week before the wedding show, Claire took Sean to meet her family—her father, her grandmother, Aunt Lou and her cousins. Clearly she’d talked to them about him, Sean thought, because they already seemed to know who he was and lots about him. Then he realised that they knew Ashleigh and his background was the same as hers.

Even though they were warm and welcoming and treated him as if he were one of them, chatting and laughing and teasing him, he still felt strange. His grandparents would’ve been older than Claire’s and had died when he was in his teens. This was the first time for years that Sean had been in a family situation where he wasn’t being the protective big brother and the head of the family, and it
made him feel lost, not knowing quite where he was supposed to fit in.