Abby Green - Latin Lovers - Seductive Frenchman

‘No, Xavier. I don’t want to be your mistress. You’ll find a replacement soon enough. This week has been more than enough for me.’

She’d had enough? Who was she kidding? She’d never get enough of this man. A lifetime wouldn’t be enough … and anything less wouldn’t do. And he was not in the market for lifetime commitments. How could she have forgotten that first night by the pool? Sherry had told her about his reputation.

She could see the muscle twitch in his jaw, knew she’d made a hit. She held herself erect. His ego might be wounded, but that would be it. He’d get over it. She, on the other hand … wouldn’t.

‘I’m not interested,’ she said, as if to drive the point home.

He took a step back and Jane felt a rush of air between them and a wave of desolation washed over her. The shuttered look descended. A look she hadn’t seen since that first time they’d spoken. It made her want to reach out and touch him. He backed away again and put on his shades.

‘If that’s what you want.’

She nodded miserably, trying to maintain a look of bland indifference. He turned and went through the door.

And then he was gone. The engine gunned fiercely, and with a spurt of gravel it died away into the distance. Jane couldn’t keep it down any longer, and just made it to the toilet—where she threw up violently.

Xavier forced his hands to relax their death grip on the wheel as he sped away. What a fool he’d been, allowing her to get under his skin so easily. How dared she turn him down? His hand slapped the wheel. She thought she was too good for him.

An utter fool. That was what he was. She was nothing but a tourist, looking for a story to bring home. The sooner he put the last week and her out of his mind for good, the better.

Nearly Four Months Later

JANE shouldered her way through the door of her one-bedroom ground-floor flat, shutting out the noise of the traffic and wailing sirens. She was soaked. Autumn was here with a vengeance. She dropped the bags of shopping and kicked off her shoes with relief, taking off her layers and leaving them to drip dry in the bathroom. She ran a quick hot bath and afterwards wrapped herself in her dressing gown, feeling a little better. She would have to be more careful. She sat gratefully on her sofa, placing a hand on her belly. She still couldn’t believe she was pregnant. But she was.

She remembered the shock of that day when, after weeks of relentless nausea on her return from France and then no sign of her period, dread had settled in her heart. Finally, one day after work, she had worked up the nerve to buy an over the counter test. A positive result. Confirmed by the doctor.

She hadn’t told anyone yet. Not even her mother. Even now she was barely able to contain her heartbreak. It was far, far worse than she had imagined. She had fobbed Lisa off when asked about the holiday, being vague, and Lisa thankfully had responded with her usual exasperated roll of the eyes, before launching into the latest adventure of her own love-life.

Her hand moved abstractedly over her belly. She had never contemplated not keeping the baby. That wasn’t an option. She sighed heavily as the object of her every waking and sleeping thought intruded.

Xavier.

She knew she couldn’t live a lie, couldn’t have the baby and not have the truth known. She had to let him know. But how to tell him? How to get in touch with him? How to be prepared in case he got heavy-handed and demanded … what? Jane remembered him telling her that he was last in his line. No doubt an heir figured somewhere in his future. Just not with someone like her.

But would he demand she hand over the baby? She felt a sliver of fear. She didn’t think he would be capable, but then he was so powerful. An heir to his fortune was important, necessary for the survival of the island …

She would have to be strong and not let him bully her. She doubted he’d want to be saddled with a small baby anyway. It would seriously cramp his lifestyle.

She grimaced. She’d gone from a world where Xavier had never existed to one in which, since she’d come home, every paper she opened seemed to have a picture of him. In New York, Paris, Milan … In each place a new fortune being made, a new woman on his arm. Each time like a knife in her heart.

She got up wearily and went through the motions of cooking dinner, eating it and tasting nothing. Afterwards she went into the bathroom and saw the pool of water on the floor under her dripping clothes. She went to get the Sunday papers she was about to throw away, opening them out on the floor to soak up the water.

For a second she didn’t even notice that she’d stopped breathing, then shook her head as if to clear it. The photo and the words didn’t disappear. It was the business section. His face stared at her starkly from the page under a headline:

FRENCH BILLIONAIRE IN UK TO SAVE AILING

HOTEL CHAIN

Xavier Salgado-Lézille, the French entrepreneur, owner of Lézille island and the exclusive hotel chain of the same name, is in London this week in negotiations to save the once luxurious chain of Lancaster hotels …

In recent times they have deteriorated …

Has his own offices in the City …

Other companies interested in his expertise …

Why do we have to look abroad to be saved …?

The words swam up at her from the page. She sank down oblivious to the wet floor. Checked the date. Yesterday. That meant he was here this week. Incredibly.

She read it again. He had offices in the City. She went to her phone book and checked with nerveless fingers. Sure enough, there it was, the address and phone number. Why hadn’t she thought of that before? She checked the clock. It was still business hours. Just.

Before she could think or lose her nerve she dialled the number from the book. A crisp voice answered. She asked to be put through to Xavier’s personal secretary.

‘Hello, Molly Parker here.’

‘Hello … are you Mr Salgado-Lézille’s personal secretary?’

‘Yes, I am. May I ask who is calling please?’

‘It’s … my name is Jane Vaughan. Could you tell him please that I’d like to make an appointment to see him?’

Her heart was beating so hard and fast she was surprised the other woman couldn’t hear it. Her hands felt slippery with sweat.

His assistant sounded suspicious. ‘Very well—please hold for a moment.’

After a couple of agonising minutes she came back on the line. ‘Mr Salgado will see you at ten-thirty tomorrow morning. He’s very busy, you know—’

‘I’m well aware of that. I won’t take up much of his time, thank you.’

Jane put down the phone with a shaking hand. Automatically she placed a hand on her belly and sank into the sofa. The phone rang again, shrill in the room. She jumped violently, picking it up warily, as if it would bite her.

‘Oh, Mum it’s you … No, I wasn’t expecting anyone else—don’t be silly.’

In the course of the conversation Jane decided it was time to break the news. Now that she was going to see Xavier and tell him. After all, she was beginning to show.

Her mother was disappointed that Jane was going to have the baby on her own, knowing all too well how hard it had been for her after Jane’s father died, and she was worried because she and Arthur were going to be leaving England, but Jane made sure to reassure her on that score. The last thing she wanted was to be responsible for Arthur not being able to take his new bride away to their new life. He had grown up in South Africa, and after the honeymoon he had persuaded her mother to emigrate to the warmer climes of Cape Town.

Jane knew her mother was stubborn and that Arthur would do whatever she wanted. They were due to leave in three weeks, and Jane was determined that they go. She hoped she had done the right thing in telling her.