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CHAPTER 32
“Hey, Cass, nice to have you back. We really missed you.”
Cassandra smiled at the receptionist, but it felt forced as she walked into her old office.
“Thanks,” she said and closed the door behind her.
Everything had felt bland since she’d come home just a few days ago. Cassandra felt lethargic as if a vital source of energy had been taken from her body. She smiled bleakly to herself since she knew why was she like that. The reason for her strange mood was Sébastien.
She sat down behind her desk heavily. Just then a knock came on her door, and before she could answer, it opened and James barged in totally uninvited.
“Cass! It’s so great to have you back. Sorry about all that business before, but you know my hands were tied. I did my very best to keep you here, working for our statio
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With the corner of her eye, Cassandra got a glimpse of Sébastien. He was looking in front of him, but she could sense a change in his demeanor. Maybe her words were breaching the pain she inflicted with her running away. Cassandra continued. “So much money had been spent, so much emotion invested. My parents were old. I knew they wanted to see me settled before it was too late. And I just… I couldn’t stop it. I knew I was making a mistake. I’d isolated myself spectacularly in a bubble of make-believe. And yet still I hoped for the best, put my trust in what I’d witnessed growing up, thought everything would work out for the best.” Cassandra felt Sébastien turn towards her, but couldn’t look at him. Her eyes stung with tears but her voice didn’t waver. “I was just a baby, Sébastien… I was only twenty-two. I hardly knew myself, never mind Brian. I subju
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Cassandra relaxed back into the luxurious cushions of the huge, comfortable couch. The tiny baby suckling at her breast was inducing a deliciously soporific effect in her blood. A familiar flood of happiness and pure joy made her smile as she looked up from her daughter and took in the warmly decorated open-plan sitting room, and the big windows that looked out into a large garden littered with toys. Situated right in the center of Montmartre, one could be forgiven for thinking the house was in the countryside, the hum of Parisian traffic barely discernible through the high trees guarding the property. This had been one of the first elegantly palatial townhouses she and Sébastien had looked at that day so long ago when she’d believed that all he wanted was to set her up in isolated seclusion. When s
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“The Six Nations Championship or The Guinness Six Nations offered rugby fans another great show. Today, Ireland and France left their best on the field. The Irish Lions and Les Bleus (French for The Blues) gave us a lesson about fair play and commitment. With a nail-biting finish like that, I think we can safely say that this tournament is wide-open and set to be one of the most exciting yet. This is Cassandra Applegate, reporting live from Croke Park in Dublin. Back to you in the studio, Stanley.” Cassandra kept the smile pasted on her face until she could hear the chatter die away in her earpiece and then handed her microphone to her assistant, Ciara, with relief once she knew she was off-air. She avoided looking to where she knew the man was still standing, his shoulder propped nonchalantly against the wall, hands in the poc
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She desperately tried to claw back some semblance of control. He rocked back on his heels and a different light came into his eyes. An altogether more dangerous light. And Cassandra could see that she was effectively trapped. The space between the seats was far too narrow for her to even attempt to push past him, and the only alternative would be to jump into the next aisle, a far too unladylike and desperate way to escape. And, in the skirt she was wearing, utterly impossible. Cassandra felt unbelievably threatened. She called up her best brusque manner and hitched her laptop bag strap higher on her shoulder, hoping he’d take the hint.“This conversation is getting us nowhere, mister. Now, really, I have to get back to my office, and I’m sure you have somewhere far more exciting to be.” After a long, i
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The gesture was fleeting but absolutely earth-shattering. He broke their eye contact, leaving Cassandra feeling curiously emptied. With a brief, succinct excuse muttering something about getting drinks, James left them alone. The rest of the crowd Sébastien Monfort had been talking to melted away too. He turned back, fixing on her with that intense gaze again.“You’ve had time to change, I see. Tell me, is this work too?” Cassandra's body got taut. Hot, burning irritation was rising.“Of course, I changed… It’s a party. And, yes, this is still work.” His eyes swept down, taking in what she knew to be a perfectly suitable although very unexciting dress. It was a black shift, high-neck
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The next day, Cassandra looked at herself in the mirror of the ladies' toilet at work. Nervously, and hating herself for feeling nervous, she smoothed her already smooth hair. She’d tied it back in its usual style for work and now tucked it firmly behind her ears. She leaned close to check her make-up. She’d had to put slightly more on than usual today to cover the circles under her eyes. She’d arrived home late last night, and had then stayed up researching as much information about Sébastien Monfort as she could. The fact that she hadn’t had to stay up long said it all. He rarely gave interviews. In fact, the last one had been at least two years previously. He was the CEO of Banque Monfort and had reached that exa
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“I don’t appreciate being manipulated into this kind of situation, Monsieur Monfort.” Sébastien looked at Cassandra’s tight-lipped profile from across the other side of the car and had to subdue the urge to show her exactly how much she might appreciate being manipulated. He knew she felt the simmering tension between them too. At one point during the interview earlier, when she’d had the temerity to dig so deep, way too deep into his life, their eyes had stayed locked together for long seconds and he’d read the latent desire in those amber depths even if Cassandra tried to deny it. “I prefer to think of it as a gentle nudging.” She cast a glimpse at him and made some kind of inarticulate sound. “There was nothing gentle about it. Your unspoken threat was very clear, Monsieur Monfo
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Cassandra fell silent as she thought of her parents. She was acutely aware of their increasing frailty, and especially her father, who had had a quadruple bypass the previous year. With her older siblings busy with families and their own problems, the care and concern of their parents largely fell to her. Not that she minded, of course. But she was aware nevertheless that they worried about her, that they wanted to see her settled like the others. Especially after what happened to Brian. They’d finished their meal, and the plates had been cleared. She took a quick sip of coffee and avoided Sébastien’s laser-like gaze. It was as if he could see right through her head to her thoughts. She hoped the coffee would diminish the effect of the wine, which had been like liquid nectar.
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