The First Crush Is the Deepest Read online

Now that was something he could admire.

  He would give a lot to be here as her date this evening. To know that those lovely violet-blue eyes were looking at him with love instead of tolerance.

  He had walked away from a great love.

  Maybe his only love. And certainly the only girl that he had ever truly wanted in his life.

  Which made him more than a fool. It made him a stupid fool.

  The best that he could do was try and capture this moment for ever. So that when they were back in their ordinary worlds on other continents he had something to remind him of just how much he had lost.

  She was the star. And he was a reporter who was working for her.

  Because that was what he was here for, wasn’t it? To work?

  Not as one of the guests.

  Oh, no.

  The likes of Sam Richards did not come to these events as a guest. He was the one parking cars and taking the coats.

  Strange to think that he had some standing on the A-list circuit in Los Angeles. But it took London to put him right back in his place.

  As one of the help.

  Pity that he had no intention whatsoever of fitting in with someone else’s idea of who and what he was. He was here because they needed him as much as he needed Amber.

  An equal trade. Yes. That was better. He could work with that.

  He was done with being second best. To anyone.

  Instantly Sam smiled. ‘You look lovely, Amber—and not a day over twenty-eight. In fact, you ladies look so stunning as a group that I think this would make a charming example of a perfect summer drinks party. Early evening cocktails for a private party? So if you could just hold that pose? Lovely. And a little more to the right, Kate? Gorgeous—and don’t forget to smile, Kate. Much better than sticking your tongue out at me. That’s it.’

  Sam stepped back and by the time the girls had straightened their dresses and rearranged the canapés his digital camera had already captured the trio from several angles, taking in the conservatory, the lovely sunlit garden and the happy women enjoying themselves.

  Of course Amber had no idea that he had taken several shots for his personal album. And every one of them was of Amber.

  ‘Fantastic. And a few more with you choosing something from the tray and pouring more wine. Excellent. Now. Saskia. How do you want to showcase the patio? With or without the food?’

  NINE

  Five hours later, every canapé, savoury and dessert that Saskia had served had been eaten, empty bottles of champagne stood upside down in silver wine buckets and the eighty or so guests had been entertained by some of London’s finest musical talent.

  One Spanish musician had even brought along a classical guitar and Amber had kicked off the flamenco dancing with great gusto and much cheering. It was amazing that the glass wear had survived the evening.

  He had taken hundreds of photographs in every public room, with and without guests, from every possible angle. But there was no doubt who was the star of the show.

  Sam could only watch in awe as Amber laughed and chatted in several languages to men and women of all ages and dress styles. Some young and unkempt, some older and the height of elegance, but it did not seem to matter to her in the least. The fashion models and media people were introduced to classical artists and quite a few popular musicians with names that even he had heard of.

  Everyone from the costume designers to hairdressers and international conductors were putty in Amber’s fingers. He had never expected to hear a sing-song around the grand piano where four of the world’s leading sopranos improvised a rap song with an up-and-coming hip hop star.

  It took skill to make a person feel that they were the most important person in the room—and Amber had that skill in buckets.

  He was in awe of her.

  It was only now, as Saskia and Kate chatted away to old friends and lingering guests, that he realised that Amber had already slipped away into the kitchen before he had a chance to thank her and say goodnight.

  He quickly scanned the kitchen for Amber and waved to the waiting staff that Saskia had set to work on the washing-up. He had just turned away when he saw a splash of blue on the patio and slowly strolled out of the hot kitchen into the cool of the late May evening.

  Amber was sitting on the wooden bench on the patio, humming along to the lively Austrian waltzes being played on the music system in the conservatory only a few feet away.

  Her eyes were closed tight shut and her left hand was twisting and moving as though it was dancing in the air, her right arm waving stiffly along in time, the plaster cast forgotten.

  Her face was in shadow but there was no mistaking the expression of joy which seemed to shine from inside outwards, illuminating her skin and making it glow.

  She was happy. Beautiful. And content. And he yearned to be part of that happiness and share that little window of joy with this amazing woman.

  This was the Amber he had fallen in love with ten years ago and then fallen in love all over again in the first ten seconds when she’d walked into his dad’s garage and knocked his world off its axis.

  And the fact that he had been in denial until this moment was so mind-boggling that all he could do was stand there and watch as she sang along to the music, all alone in the light of the full moon and the soft glow streaming out from the conservatory where the last guests were mingling in the hallway.

  He stood in the shadows, watching her for minutes until the music changed to a new track and she dropped her hands onto her lap and clasped hold of her knees and blinked open her eyes.

  And saw him.

  ‘Hi, Sam,’ she said, and her eyes met his without hesitation or reluctance. Almost as if she was pleased to see him there. ‘Are we on our own?’

  Sam swallowed down the lump in his throat and strolled over to the bench in the soft light and lifted up her feet and sat down, her legs on his knees, well aware that he probably had a huge man crush grin all over his face.

  ‘More or less. The girls are seeing the last of the guests out. It was a great party. Did you have a good time?’

  Amber sighed and snuggled sideways on the arm rest. ‘The best. Even though I am now completely exhausted. How about you?’

  Sam half turned to face her and as she shuffled higher, her legs resting on his thighs and her arm on her lap, he inhaled a wonderful spicy, sweet perfume that competed with the full musk roses and lavender which Saskia had planted behind the bench. It was a heady, exotic aroma that seemed to fill his senses and make him want to stay there for as long as Amber was close by.

  He wanted to tell her that she looked beautiful.

  But that would be too close to the truth. So he covered up his answer and turned it into something she would be expecting him to say.

  ‘I had an interesting evening. Your guest list was inspired. I suspect the birthday present swag will be excellent.’

  ‘Birthday presents? Oh. No, I only had a few. I asked people to make a donation to Parvita’s charity instead.’

  She looked at him. Really looked at him. Her gaze moved so slowly from his feet upwards that by the time it reached his face Sam knew that his ears were flaming red.

  ‘Nice suit. You look positively dangerous. Was it safe to let you out on your own? I’m sorry I didn’t have much time to talk. Did you get all of the shots Saskia needs?’

  ‘I can usually be trusted to behave myself if the occasion demands. And yes, I think I can do something creative for a website and make the most of the venue.’

  ‘Really? That almost sounds professional. Then things truly have changed. And not just the suit.’

  ‘Oh, no compliments, please; you’ll have me blushing.’

  ‘I noticed you working the room with your camera. Hasn’t Saskia done a lovely job?’

  ‘I have been to this house so many times with my dad but I’d forgotten how stunning it is. Judging from some of the comments from your guests, I think she might be on to a winner.’

  Am
ber hunched up her shoulders. ‘I hope so. She’s had a rough time since her aunt Margot died. This is why it’s important to me that you do a good job and help Saskia out. Elwood House is her home but it’s also her business. She needs a decent marketing and promotional campaign to get it off the ground.’

  ‘There are expert companies out there who could make it happen.’

  ‘Yes, there are. And they cost serious amounts of money. And Saskia won’t accept my help. I have plenty of colleagues and casual friends in my life. You met some of them this evening. But nobody comes close to real friends like Kate, Saskia and her aunt Margot. They made me believe that, despite everything that happened with my mother, I could make a real home in London and create something close to a normal school life for myself. And that was new.’

  ‘I know, I was there. Remember?’

  Then she laughed out loud. ‘Oh, yes, I remember very well indeed. But I refuse to be angry with you on my birthday. Life really is too short. I have had enough of all of that. And yes, you can record that little snippet on your handy pocket tape recorder and do what you like with it.’

  He patted his pockets. ‘Oh, shame. I seem to have left it at the office. Fancy that. The last time I came to your birthday party I had to climb over the garden fence. It makes a nice change to come in through the front door.’

  She chuckled before answering. ‘How could I forget?’ She laughed out loud. ‘You strode into my eighteenth birthday party as though you were the guest of honour and hadn’t just climbed over the fence to avoid the security on the front entrance. And then you kidnapped me when my mother was in the salon with all of the stuffy, important guests she had invited who I had never met, and you whisked me away in your dad’s sports car. It was magical and you were the magician who made it possible. It was like some happy dream.’

  She shook her head, making her chandelier earrings sparkle, and brought her knees up to her chest. ‘My mother still hasn’t forgiven you for the fact that I missed my own birthday cake, eighteen candles and all. Heath had to blow them out for me.’

  ‘Your mother is a remarkable lady. As far as she is concerned, I will always be the chauffeur’s son, but do you know what? I am proud of the fact that my dad used to drive limos for a living before he moved into property. I always have been. No matter what you and your family think.’

  Amber inhaled sharply and tugged her hand away from his.

  ‘Wait a minute. Don’t you dare accuse me of treating you differently because your dad was our driver. Because I didn’t. I never did, and you know that. You were the one who was always defending yourself. Not me.’

  ‘Your mother...’

  ‘I’m not talking about my mother. I’m talking about you and me. I would never, ever have looked down on you because of the job you did. And maybe it’s about time to get over that stupid inferiority complex of yours so that you can see all of the amazing things you have achieved in your life.’

  ‘You mean like being an international concert pianist who is able to perform in front of thousands of people? Or my wonderful career as a fashion model and cosmetics guru? Is that what you mean?’

  ‘I was in the right place at the right time and I got lucky. And you are insufferable.’

  ‘And you are deluded.’

  Amber glared at him for several seconds before she took a slow breath and shook her head slowly from side to side, before flicking her long hair back over her left shoulder.

  ‘Parents. They have a lot to answer for. And that includes mine as well as yours. It’s a good thing that we have both been able to rise above them to become so independent and calm and even-tempered.’

  ‘Isn’t it just.’

  Amber slowly lowered her legs to the floor and shuffled closer to him on the bench so that there were inches and ten years of lost time between them. So close that he could hear her breathing increase in speed with his.

  ‘Which reminds me...’ Sam smiled and released her to dive inside his jacket pocket and pull out a long slim envelope which he passed to her. ‘Happy birthday, Amber.’

  And, without waiting for her to reply, he leant forwards and kissed her tenderly but swiftly on the cheek. Lingering just long enough to inhale her scent and feel her waist under his fingertips before he drew back.

  She looked at him with wide, startled eyes. ‘Thank you. I mean, I wasn’t expecting anything. Can I... Can I open it now?’

  ‘Please. Go ahead.’

  Sam looked around the garden for the few seconds it took for her to slide a manicured fingernail under the flap of the envelope and draw out a slim piece of faded paper.

  ‘Sam? What is this? It looks like...’ And then she understood what she was holding and her breath caught at the back of her throat.

  ‘Is this what I think it is?’

  Then she shook her head and sat back away from him, head down, reading the letters in the dim light before speaking again. And this time her voice came out in one long breath.

  ‘This is the cheque my mother gave you to leave me alone.’

  She looked up at him and her gaze darted from the cheque to his face and then back to the cheque again. ‘I don’t understand. She told me that she had offered you enough cash to take you through journalism school.’

  Amber dropped the cheque into her lap and took hold of his hand, her eyes brimming with tears. ‘Why? Why didn’t you use this money, Sam? The damage had already been done.’

  Sam raised his hand and stroked her cheek with his fingertips, until they were on her temple, forcing her to look into his eyes.

  ‘Your mother knew the real thing when she saw it. I was dazzled by you, Amber. Dazzled and scared about how deep I was getting into a relationship I never saw coming. She took one look at me and saw a terrified young man who had barely survived his parents’ divorce and was determined not to make the same mistake myself. She knew that we cared about each other very much. Too much. You were so beautiful and talented and for some crazy reason you wanted to be my friend and were even willing to sacrifice your music scholarship to stay in London with me. She couldn’t let that happen.’

  Sam made a slicing motion with the flat of his hand through the air.

  ‘So she did the only thing she knew. She used my feelings for you to break us up.’

  The air was broken by the sound of Amber’s ragged breathing but Sam kept going. If ever there was a time and a place for the truth to come out, this was as good as any.

  ‘All she had to do was put the idea in my head that you were looking for a ring on your finger and a house and two kids and that was it. She didn’t need to spell it out. Staying with me would mean the end of your career as a concert pianist and my grandiose fantasy scheme to be an intrepid international reporter.’

  Sam turned to face the garden so that he could rest his elbows on his knees, only too well aware that Amber’s gaze would still be fixed on his face.

  ‘That was the weird thing. I didn’t believe her at first. I kept telling myself that she simply wanted me to leave you alone because she didn’t think that I was good enough or ambitious enough for you.

  ‘The problem was, when I went back into the party, you were talking to your rich friends from the private school who were all in designer gear and real jewels, chatting away about yacht holidays, and the more I thought about it, the more I realised that maybe she had a point. What future did we have together? If you stayed with me, I would be holding you back. You would be better taking the scholarship and spending the next three years in Paris with people who could further your career. People who sat in the back of limos. Not in the driver’s seat.’

  ‘Sam—no!’ Amber exploded. ‘How could you even think that? Why didn’t you come and talk to me about what she had said? I would have put that idea out of your head right then and there.’

  He shook his head. ‘Clever woman, your mother. She knew that my dad was on his own because my mum had walked out on us. All she had to do was plant the idea in my head that if I wasn�
��t good enough for my own mother—then how could I possibly be good enough for her beautiful and talented daughter who deserved the very best in life? The big chip on my shoulder did the rest.’

  Amber took his hand in hers and squeezed but he dared not look at her. Not yet. ‘It was all too much; my head was thumping with the champagne and I couldn’t deal with everything with the sound of the party going on around me. So I slipped out of the kitchen door and into the car park to get some air.’

  Sam looked up into the sky, where the stars were already bright. ‘And you know who was there, waiting for me in the convertible?’

  ‘Petra,’ she replied in a shaky voice.

  He nodded. ‘She had a bottle of champagne and two glasses and my mind was so racing with all the possibilities and problems and options that it never even occurred to me to wonder why she was outside in the first place. It was only later that I found out—Petra knew that I was going to be coming outside.’

  ‘My mother sent Petra out to wait for you? Is that what you’re saying?’

  Sam nodded. ‘Petra called a few days later to tell me that her folks were taking her to their villa in Tuscany for the whole of the summer before finishing school in Switzerland. I think she was genuinely sorry that she had been used the way she was, but by then it was too late. You had already left for Paris. It was too late. She had done it. She had broken us up.’

  Amber pushed off the bench and walked across the patio to the flower beds and stood with her back to Sam, her shoulders heaving up and down with emotion.

  Every word that Sam had said echoed around inside her head, making it impossible for her to reply to him.

  Her good arm wrapped tight around her waist, trying to hold in the explosion of confusion and regret that was threatening to burst out of her at any moment.

  And not just about what had happened on her eighteenth birthday.

  She had been so totally trusting and gullible! But the more she thought about it, the more she recognised that Sam was right. She was still dancing to her family’s tune eleven years later—and the worst thing was, she was the one who was allowing them to do it.