jewels. Saskia was in midnight-blue crushed velvet with a real pearl choker and gorgeous lilac kitten heels.
They were like dazzling stars transported from a catwalk fashion show into this London kitchen. English style and elegance. Not too much flesh on show, and all class.
Kate hissed at him, but Saskia nudged her with a glare and moved forward to shake his hand.
‘Hello, Sam. Nice to see you again. I appreciate your help with my website—it’s ten times better than I could have thought of on my own. We’re having a few drinks on the patio before the hordes of locusts arrive. Why don’t you come and join us?’
‘Perfect. Thanks. And I’m pleased I could help.’
‘You go ahead. One more thing to bring out of the oven,’ Saskia replied, and waved Kate and Sam onto the terrace.
The second they were out of sight of the kitchen, Kate grabbed Sam’s sleeve, whirled around and planted a hand on each hip as she stared up at him with squeezed narrow eyes.
‘I’m watching you, Sam Richards. If you step out of place tonight or do anything to spoil Amber’s evening I’ll be on to you like a shot.’
He raised both hands in surrender.
‘I came here to work. And help Amber have a good time along the way. Okay?’
Kate replied by jabbing her second and third fingers towards her eyes then stabbed them towards his face, then back to her eyes.
‘Watching you,’ she hissed, then broke into a wide-mouthed grin and popped one of Saskia’s mini tomato tarts into her mouth and groaned in pleasure as Saskia strolled up with the most delicious-smelling tray.
Kate raised her glass of white wine in a toast. ‘Fab. You always know exactly how to pull off the perfect party, Saskia. Always have.’
‘Hold that thought, gorgeous. Special order for the star of the show. Mini pizza. Extra anchovies. Okay?’
‘Did someone say mini pizza?’
Amber sidled up to Saskia and kissed her on the cheek before biting into the crisp pastry and nodding. ‘Delicious.’ Only then did she look across at Sam and smile. ‘Hello, Sam. What perfect timing.’
And she took his breath away.
Her long sensitive fingers were wrapped around the stem of a wine glass which Kate was topping up with sparkling tonic water rather than wine. A diamond bracelet sparkled at her wrist and flashed bright and dazzling as she moved in the sunlight.
But that was nothing compared to the crystal covered dress and jewelled collar she was wearing.
Sam dragged his eyes away from Amber’s cleavage before Kate noticed and stabbed him with the corkscrew.
Her earrings moved, sparkling and bright, and helped him to focus on her face. Stunning make-up showed her clear, smooth complexion to perfection, and her eyes glowed against the dark smudge of colour. Her lips were full, smooth. Her whole face was radiant.
Amber had never looked so beautiful or more magical.
This was the Amber he had always imagined that she would look when she was happy in her own skin—and she had exceeded his wildest imagination.
He had often wondered over the years if Amber had stayed the sweet, loving girl that he had fallen for, under the surface gloss and razzmatazz, and it only took a few seconds of seeing her now with her friends to realise that she had somehow managed to keep her integrity and old friendships alive.
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?’
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