A Royal Wedding(68)
Molly looked up at her in surprise. ‘Oh, no. Simon was working with Andy. I am looking forward to his presentation this afternoon—so far it sounds like one of the company’s most successful initiatives. Lucky girl—he’s all yours. Now, if you will excuse me, I promise I’ll catch up with you later. And welcome to Ghana, Kate. Akwaaba.’
Breathing was starting to become difficult.
Simon had been working with Andy? He was all hers?
That could not be right. She had read through the files on the three projects Andy was supervising during the long flight from Mexico, and she certainly hadn’t seen Simon’s name come up. Tired she might be, but she would not have missed the name which was engraved on her heart.
And then Kate sighed out loud.
Of course. Stupid girl.
All of the proposals for company sponsorship had to go through the most senior member of that particular small tribal kingdom in Ghana. Royal protocol demanded that only the king for the area made those sorts of decisions. Volunteers like Simon would not be listed on any of those high-level reports.
Kate’s cup rattled on the saucer as the terrible reality of her situation hit home.
Suddenly it was all a bit too much. She was on a new continent, for goodness’ sake, in a new country, without her luggage after a long nightmare journey from Mexico. Her body clock had no idea what time of day it was, and she was eating breakfast when she should probably be sleeping.
And now she was going to have to work with Simon Reynolds if she was going to make a go of her temporary promotion and impress her boss, just when she needed promotion so very badly.
Kate sucked in a lungful of air and watched Molly meet and greet the other conference delegates, dressed in bright African robes or western dress, and felt even more guilt. The company she worked for was one of the main sponsors for this conference. She should be on her feet, smiling and shaking hands like Molly and Simon were doing now. Networking. Explaining why Andy was not there to meet them as usual. Making the delegates feel welcome.
But that would mean talking to Simon. And she was not ready for that. Not yet.
How did you start a conversation when what you really wanted to say was along the lines of, Hi, Simon—isn’t the weather nice for this time of year? Oh, by the way, do you still blame me for destroying your parents’ marriage and generally ruining your life? Because I would really like to know why you abandoned me just when I needed you the most and broke my heart in the process. If it is not too much trouble?
Suddenly her confidence faltered and shuddered to a grinding halt.
Kate swallowed down the huge lump of emotion and regret in her throat that was threatening to overwhelm her. She had sworn three years ago, during that terrible summer after he left, that she would not waste one more tear or sleepless night on Simon Reynolds while her stepdad and her sister needed her to be strong for them.
She could do this. The company needed her to be a total professional and do her job. Simon was just another volunteer working on the company-sponsored rural IT project. That was all.
She was going to show him that she had changed in the past three years. Kate O’Neill was not the push-over he had known at university, who had relied on her extrovert boyfriend to make all the big decisions for them both. The tables had turned. She was the one making the decisions now.
Forcing her head up, she stood up from the table, smiled across to the delegates and lifted her chin, back straight.
Only at that same moment Molly said something to Simon, and they both turned their heads in her direction.
Simon’s gaze met hers, locked and held.
She had always been able to read Simon from those remarkable grey eyes, but at this distance it was not possible— except for a flicker of. What? What was it she saw in that instant? Hurt? Need? Confusion? Surprise and amazement? Remorse?
Kate’s stomach clenched and tied into a tight painful knot under the cold, analytical focus of his stare. Then Simon gave one hard blink and the moment was lost.
With one brief smile and half-bow to the group around him Simon turned towards her and strolled in slow, deliberate steps across the room, as though he owned the hotel, the resort and most of the world around it.
Confident. Strong. Impressive.
Simon Reynolds had been brought up to be a leader amongst men, and it showed in every step that he took—no matter where he was or what he was wearing.
In fact she might have been intimidated by him if it had not been for a few tiny aspects of his new look. The super-smart, casual but expensive preppy clothes his mother had used to buy him in London when he was a student had been replaced by a loose short-sleeved shirt made from the same type of striped fabric she had seen being worn at the airport the previous evening. The faded and darned fabric hung over the scruffiest trousers she had ever seen in her life. The knees were patched with several irregular pieces of fabric in various patterns, which seemed to have been cut out with the same nail scissors he had used to trim his hair. A brown cowhide shoulder bag was slung casually across his chest.