Abby Green - Latin Lovers - Seductive Frenchman

Maybe he wanted them to be surrounded by people, the town, in case she became clingy, refused to go. Was he used to women acting that way? She wouldn’t be one of those women—couldn’t have him suspect for a moment how deeply involved she’d become.

‘Yes … yes, of course you’re right …’

AN HOUR later, bag packed and ready to go, Jane waited by the front entrance of the castle. She turned around and drank in the view, committing it all to memory, sucked in the air deeply. The morning sun was gathering more and more heat. In late June its potency was powerful, and the distinctive smell of sun-baked earth wafted over her. The cicadas’ incessant chatter stopped, and then started further away every time she moved to try and catch them out.

In the space of just one week she had come to really love this island. That first forbidding view had hidden something much more complex. It had a heart and a vitality that was artfully disguised by its appearance. Completely unique. Much like the man who was striding through the doors towards her now. Every line of his physique screamed dynamic … independent … successful. He reminded her of a lone wolf. Who would get to tame him in the end? Could any one woman do it?

She schooled her features as he approached, and let him take her bag to swing it into the back of his car, which would take them to the boat.

As they got close to the private marina at the harbour on the mainland, Jane could see someone waiting for them. It was the beautiful blonde woman she had noticed that first time she had seen him in the street.

She was waving gaily as the boat approached, but Jane could see her arm falter slightly when she noticed Xavier had a companion.

As they climbed out Jane took Xavier’s helping hand, a familiar tingle travelling up her arm, slightly breathless when she came to stand beside him. The other woman didn’t even glance Jane’s way as she unleashed a torrent of French at Xavier. She was stunning, her perfectly proportioned petite figure and deep tan set off by white jeans and a tight white shirt, artfully tousled blonde hair cascaded down her back.

Xavier drew Jane in to his side with a possessive arm, and when he could get a word in edgeways interjected in English. ‘Sasha, don’t be so rude. I’d like you to meet Jane. She’s been my guest for the past week. You haven’t been able to get me because I made sure I was unavailable. Jane, this is Sasha—one of my assistants.’

His tone, while light, held a steely undertone. Jane shivered, and felt a little sorry for Sasha. Any hint of which was swiftly gone when the girl turned her exacting gaze on Jane. Pure venom. She sneaked a look at Xavier, to see if he had noticed, but he had let go of her to rope off the boat, and had moved away a few feet. Jane was acutely conscious of her added inches and bigger frame as the woman sent a scathing glance up and down, summarily dismissing her. Her accent when she spoke was captivating, her English impeccable.

‘So nice to meet you … thank you for entertaining Xavi for me … he works far too hard. Tell me, England, is it? You’re a tourist?’

Jane nodded warily, feeling hackles that she’d never known she possessed rise.

‘Ah, I thought so … Xavi is incorrigible—such a weakness for the—’

But whatever she’d been going to say was halted when Xavier came back to stand beside them.

‘Jane, I’ll give you a lift to the villa. Sasha, will you arrange for a car to pick Jane up this afternoon? Say around four p.m.’

Jane was still slightly stunned from Sasha’s words, not sure where she had been going and not sure if she wanted to know. She looked at her uneasily. Her beautiful smile didn’t go near her chocolate-brown eyes. Jane didn’t want anything to do with this woman, and remembered belatedly with relief, ‘I still have my hire car. I have to get it back anyway, so I’ll make my own way to the hotel later.’

These words earned positive waves of radioactivity from the other woman. Jane avoided her eye, relieved when Xavier said, ‘Fine. Sasha, I’ll see you in the office in about an hour.’

Back in the villa, after Xavier had dropped her off, Jane wandered around disconsolately. She went through the motions of cleaning up and packing. She felt as though she were empty inside, and tried to shake the feeling off.

She made a light lunch for herself, and carried it up to the terrace, remembering back to the night she had stood there, dreaming about him—the night after she had bumped into him in the street. Wandering back to take in the view, she had to smile a little sad smile to herself.

Well, her fantasy had come true. Spectacularly. It had come to lif e … he had come to life … brought her to life in ways she would have never envisaged. He had awakened her. Been her first lover. Opened her eyes to a sensuality she had never imagined herself to possess. Helped her to own that sensuality. He had been her gift for the past week … and tonight would be their last night.

She would have to let him go. Be strong. She wouldn’t fall at his feet, weeping and wailing. He belonged in this world of unimaginable wealth and beauty. Every day blessed by the benediction of the sun. And she belonged … She didn’t belong here.

God knew what it was that attracted him to her … but he was offering her one more night. And she would take it. Savour it. And somehow find the strength to walk away tomorrow with her head held high.

Later, when Jane walked into the hotel lobby after dropping the car off, she felt a little more in control of her emotions. Xavier had told her to give her name to the receptionist, who would be expecting her. She did so, and a bellboy came to take her luggage and show her up to the penthouse suite.

When she got up there she couldn’t see any sign of him, and her heart slowed to a regular beat again. She spied a bottle of champagne in an ice bucket, with a note and pristine white rose resting against its side. With trembling fingers she opened the note after smelling the rose. The handwriting was big and curt. She smiled, imagining his impatience.

I’m sorry I’m not here to meet you. Have a glass of champagne while you are waited on hand and foot, and I will be there to pick you up at 7.30. A bientôt. X

For a minute she wondered if the X meant a kiss or was just his initial, before trying to figure out the rest of the message. A knock came and she went to answer it, still puzzling over his note.

At the door were three women, all carrying various accoutrements. The light dawned when they came in and told Jane they were there to do a massage, pedicure, manicure, facial, her hair … in no special order. Her mouth dropped open, but they were too well trained to make any comment when it became apparent that they were dealing with a novice. Having never indulged herself like this before, Jane, after a moment of trepidation and the old haunting guilt, gave herself over to the experience. And went to heaven and back.

A couple of hours later, when they’d left, she went to one of the mirrors and stared incredulously. Another creature looked back. A relaxed, buffed, shining version of herself, with sleek hair that fell in a smooth wave to just below her jaw. They had tinted her eyelashes, which she had never had done before, and now her eyes seemed huge in her face, framed by thick luxurious lashes.

Before she could lose herself in uncustomary narcissistic bliss, she spied the clock out of the corner of her eye and saw that it was almost seven-fifteen. In a panic, she realised that she hadn’t even unpacked—and what could she possibly wear that he hadn’t already seen by now? With dismay, she pulled her bag into the bedroom and stopped when she saw the bed. A huge white box lay there, with another note and a red rose this time.