Her heart was racing now. It had started the moment he’d walked into the office.
Her automatic response to him annoyed the hell out of her. One would have thought that the years would have brought her more control—and a lot more common sense. All she could hope for was that her feelings weren’t written all over her face.
‘No need really,’ she replied crisply. ‘I presume your hire car has air-conditioning?’ She nodded towards the dark grey SUV parked opposite them.
‘Of course.’
‘Then let’s go get in,’ she suggested, her voice cool and confident but her insides anything but.
It wasn’t till they were inside the vehicle, with the engine and air-conditioning on, that she dared glance across in his direction once more. Even so she didn’t look at his face. She found her decidedly uptight gaze landing on his hands as he placed them on the steering wheel.
‘Oh, Nicolas!’ she exclaimed before she could stop herself.
‘What?’ His head jerked round, his blue eyes alarmed.
‘Your…your hand.’
‘Ah,’ he said knowingly, and lifted his left hand from the wheel, turning it this way and that as though it was a long time since he’d looked at it himself.
There was no thumb, not even a small stump, the digit having been amputated at the second knuckle. But that wasn’t all. The back of his hand was heavily scarred, the skin puckered up in places. His right hand had a few scars as well, she noted, but nothing like his left.
‘Lovely, isn’t it?’ he said drily, and placed it back down on the wheel, his remaining knuckles showing white when his fingers curved tightly around the rim. ‘Unfortunately, there are no compositions suitable for thumbless concert pianists. And to think I used to be able to span ten keys. But not to worry. It probably worked out for the best. The life of a concert pianist is very limited and limiting. I’ve done well enough out of my change of career.’
‘Yes, I know,’ Serina said, quickly pulling herself together and resolving not to go all mushy over him just because of his hand. ‘I saw you being interviewed on television a couple of years ago,’ she went on matter-of-factly. ‘You looked very successful in your New York apartment and very prosperous.’
He gave a small laugh. ‘That’s the pot calling the kettle black. Just look at what you’ve done. Turned your dad’s rather ramshackle lumber yard into a thriving business. I can see where your daughter gets her entrepreneurial skills from.’
Serina didn’t know what to say to that. It took all her willpower not to look guilty.
The sound of her mobile phone ringing saved her from further embarrassment. Serina fished it out of her handbag and flipped it open.
‘Yes?’ she answered.
‘Has he rung yet?’ her daughter demanded to know in impatient tones. Too late, Serina remembered that Felicity had asked her to ring her as soon as she’d heard from Nicolas. Felicity had begged for her own personal mobile phone for her tenth birthday. And, being somewhat spoiled by Greg, she had got what she wanted.
‘Yes, Felicity,’ Serina said with a sigh. ‘He’s rung and he’s here in Rocky Creek and we’re on our way to the school right now. Okay? See you shortly.’ And she hung up.
Nicolas smiled over at her as he fired the engine. ‘That daughter of yours is quite a handful, isn’t she?’
‘How did you guess?’ she replied frustratedly, and he laughed.
‘So,’ he said as he drove out of the car park and turned left. ‘Is the school in the same place?’
‘Yes.’
‘What? No more surprises?’
‘Maybe a few.’
‘Perhaps you should elaborate whilst I drive. Save me from having egg all over my face. Though I suspect that’s what you had in mind when you didn’t warn me over the phone how much Rocky Creek had gone ahead.’
‘Huh! I didn’t see any egg over your face back at the office. You had those girls eating out of your hand and you know it.’
He shot her a smile that curled both her toes and her heart. ‘I have learned the art of charming the ladies over the years.’
Serina was grateful that he’d reminded her in time what kind of life he’d been leading since leaving Rocky Creek. Not pining for her, that was for sure. Not even before their final but brief encounter thirteen years ago.
According to the many tabloid articles Felicity had uncovered about him on the Internet, he’d wined and dined some of the most beautiful women in show business. No doubt he’d slept with most of them as well. The Nicolas she knew would not have been living the life of a monk. Not likely!