Julia James - Summer Sins - Bedded, or Wedded? / Willingly Bedded, Forcibly Wedded / The Mediterranean Billionaire's Blackmail Bargain

He sounded regretful as he watched Lissa drop with her innate grace into the lounger beside him.

‘It hasn’t bothered me,’ she assured him. ‘I’m happy here at the villa. Blissfully so!’

It was true she could hardly recall ever knowing such happiness, as she had here in their private, secret world, with their private, secret happiness.

She sought to rationalise her reluctance to leave the island and the villa.

“I wish the whole Riviera were still like this—just pine trees and a rocky shoreline, with a few villas and maquis up in the hills, with deserted bays and headlands and beaches every few miles. It’s such a shame it’s been so spoilt.’ She caught herself as she finished, and it was her turn to put on a rueful expression. ‘I’m sorry—I should not be so critical.’

But he was not offended—far from it. ‘There are still some parts that are not concreted over,’ he said with a half smile. ‘Up in the hills, away from the coast in the Alpes Maritimes, where St Paul de Vence is, for example, is far less spoilt. Even on the coast there are some parts less ugly and less modern. Beaulieu, between Nice and Monte Carlo, still lives up to its name of “beautiful place” and just on the Italian border Menton could still be mistaken for the last century, or even the one before. My mother lives there with my stepfather—’

He broke off suddenly. Then, scarcely missing a beat, he resumed.

‘Antibes, too, is far less touristy—a working town—and on the Cap d’Antibes is the Musée de Napoleon. Did you know that he landed on the coast there when he escaped from Elba?’

Lissa was diverted, as Xavier had intended. It had been a slip of the tongue to mention his mother and stepfather.

‘Didn’t the King send an iron cage for him to be imprisoned in when he was captured?’ she said, groping in her memory.

Xavier laughed. ‘That was what Marshal Ney promised to do. He’d turned from Bonapartist to Bourbonist after the Restoration. He set off with an army to stop Napoleon in his tracks—iron cage and all. But instead he went over to him, and his army, too. Then Napoleon marched on Paris.’

‘To meet his Waterloo,’ Lissa finished. ‘Trounced by the English!’

Xavier shook his head and gave a laugh. ‘Ah, your Wellington only beat him thanks to the Prussians. Napoleon had won the battle already, but the Prussian army arrived in the nick of time to save Wellington’s neck. Don’t they teach you proper history in English schools?’

His eyes were dancing, and Lissa grinned. ‘We’re just taught that we won, that’s all,’ she said impishly. She tugged at his arm. ‘Anyway, you’re only trying to talk about history to get out of coming down to the beach with me. Come on, lazybones! We need some exercise before lunch.’

Xavier caught her fingers and started to nibble one.

‘I can think of excellent exercise—and we don’t even have to walk ten metres,’ he murmured, with a glint in his eyes.

But Lissa got to her feet and tugged at him again. With a show of reluctance he stood up, tossing the market report aside on the table.

‘Eh, bien —let us go and comb the beach, then, if you insist,’ he said resignedly. Long lashes swept down over his eyes as he baited her gently.

He took her hand and she felt its warmth and strength closing around her fingers, making her feel suddenly safe and cherished.

A little tremor went through her, and, like a ghost whispering in her head, she heard again the warning to be careful.

She heard the words, felt them imprinting, but in their wake came another whisper, that set through her a deeper tremor yet.

Too late .

‘Honestly, Xavier, you’re such a wimp. The water’s not that cold.’

Lissa grinned with amused exasperation at Xavier’s adamant refusal to do as she was. They’d gained the headland of the tiny promontory, scrambling over rocks to get there, and were now sitting on a large, flat rock that projected slightly over the sea. Lissa had not hesitated to take off her canvas shoes and dangle her toes in the water. It was cold, no doubt about it, but that was hardly adequate reason for wimping out.

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