Rags To Riches: His Wish, Her Command. Annie WestЧитать онлайн книгу.
then it hit him out of nowhere. Like a meteorite falling onto his head.
He had turned into a time poor cliché of a bloke who had all this money in the bank but no time to enjoy it!
How totally crazy was that!
It was so ridiculous that the laughter that burst through without warning came from a place deep inside his body, low in his abdomen. It was the kind of laughter that made his jaw ache for a few seconds before he was able to sniff and wipe his eyes.
Only then did he dare to turn his head towards Ella.
She smiled at him closed mouthed for a few seconds before shuffling over in silence then faced forwards so that they could both stare out at the flamingos, side by side and only inches apart. Their world encased in a cave of grasses and low shrubs.
Seb felt the sun and warm wind on his face and toes, and a strange sense of contentment and something close to joy filled his heart and his mind. Mingled with regret.
There had been a time when he loved to experience every new sensation with such pleasure and delight. When had he lost that ability?
And it had taken an English girl to help him to reconnect to this world free from high tech communications—and to make this moment something truly special.
‘Sometimes I like to cycle down here out of season. Just to find some peace. I hope you don’t mind?’ Ella whispered.
He reached out for Ella’s hand, raised it to his lips and grinned at her. Strange how he kept a tight hold of her hand and they sat huddled together in comfortable silence, just smiling. And she did not seem to mind at all.
‘You could have warned me that I would have a reception committee,’ Seb whispered to Ella as she hooked her arm around his and wound their way through the assembled guests towards the piano at the back of the room.
‘What? And spoil the fun of seeing you charm the ladies?’ She chuckled. ‘You’re quite the celebrity guest!’
Then she squeezed his arm a little tighter and joked, ‘Sandrine has already ordered a fattened calf!’
Seb almost choked on his fizzy water. ‘I’m hardly the prodigal son,’ he spluttered.
‘Um. I wouldn’t be so sure about that,’ Ella replied, dabbing with a napkin at the droplets of water he had sprayed onto the sleeve of his beautiful suit jacket. ‘It was very kind of you to offer to take a look at Sandrine’s Internet connection for her. I know she relies on those online bookings. It’s not often they have a tame computer tech guru at hand.’
Before Seb could reply, Ella glanced over his shoulder and nodded. ‘Speaking of shouting, I’m getting the nod from Sandrine. The buffet is about to be served, which is my cue to start work. I hope you like piano music!’
Ella slipped onto the piano stool and moved her hands swiftly up and down the keyboard, creating a stream of gentle lyrical sounds that seemed to Seb’s untutored ear to be based around the melody of a familiar song but transformed under Ella’s fingers into a tapestry of elegant and emotional music.
She might have told him that she had trained as a professional, but to his untrained ear she was superb!
‘Are you improvising? ‘ he asked in amazement.
She laughed out loud, but her focus remained on the keys. ‘That’s the whole point. Sandrine could have played a compact disc through the music system. My job is to create the background music which is special to this event.’
Ella raised her head for a second and nodded towards the elegantly dressed lady who had greeted Sebastien so warmly after he had apologised for being a gatecrasher.
‘The Morel family specifically asked for a combination of smooth jazz and some classical ballads from her favourite musical shows.’
Her hands slowed a little, the right hand picking out a theme he recognised from a very old Hollywood movie. Except that Ella was somehow playing the lyrics in the form of a musical expression so soft, smooth and warm that he was stunned by how every scrap of emotion was teased out in a few notes on a keyboard.
‘You’ve done this before.’ He smiled, and moved to the other side of the piano so that he could look at her face, suddenly delighted that he had agreed to come to this small hotel on a wild and windy evening.
Her nose wrinkled into a smile. ‘Since I was about twelve. I love it, love it, and love it. Did I mention that I love it? I would play even if they did not pay me—but please do not mention that to anyone.’
Seb nodded sagely. ‘Your secret is safe with me. But I do have one question. Why a cocktail pianist?’
‘People watching, of course! Oh, you would be surprised what you see from behind a piano!’
She looked up over the lid of the piano towards the guests who were chatting away in clusters around the buffet table.
‘After a while you merge into the background and that’s when people reveal who they truly are.’ She smiled up at him, then focused on a complex fast run up and down the keyboard using the lightest of touches. ‘Any minute now, Madame Morel is going to make her way over and invite you to join her party at their table. Now, play nice! Who knows, by the end of the evening you may have discovered a whole new set of relatives!’
Sure enough, only seconds later Ella nodded and continued playing as their hostess whisked Seb away. From her position, she could only sympathise as within minutes he was being introduced to the assorted aunts, uncles, cousins, nieces and nephews that made up the Morel family. And from what she could hear in random snatches, several of the men were either called André or had other Morel relatives by that name in Montpellier.
Poor Seb. This situation had to be bewildering for him.
As her hands moved through sequences of key strokes her muscles had learnt years ago, Ella glanced up from time to time.
Her eyes were drawn inexorably to the tall handsome man in the couture suit who had dominated the room from the moment he followed her inside.
Sandrine had taken one look at Seb and switched from being a professional hotelier of advanced years into a giggling schoolgirl who blushed at his every compliment.
Internet access! Sandrine! What a pathetic excuse. The shame! She was going to tease her friend mercilessly about that feeble excuse to keep Seb to herself for a few minutes.
It had given her just enough time to introduce herself to Madame Morel and her family and explain why there was an uninvited guest in the room. Who just happened to be the CEO of Castellano Tech.
Delighted did not come close!
Sebastien Castellano was at their little party and looking for one of the Morel family?
How exciting.
Make that two fatted calves, Sandrine.
As for Seb?
Sebastien Castellano had entered the room with all of the persona and confidence of someone used to achieving whatever they set out to do.
Plus he had two distinct advantages.
Firstly he had switched on his full-on charismatic charm offensive for anyone within speaking range. And then of course he was dressed for success. His dark suit was cut to perfectly emphasise broad shoulders and slim waist and hips—the same broad chest that she had pressed against so pathetically in the cherry orchard that morning.
Her fingers missed a key change and she quickly masked her error by turning the mistake into a jazzy flourish and carried on. That dazzling smile and those heart-stopping dark good looks had worked their power on more than Sandrine and their hostess!
The simple touch of his arm on hers had been enough to set her heart racing and head spinning. Despite her sweaty palms and dry mouth, she had managed to conceal her physical reaction to him…until