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Delicious Intent
Delicious Intent
Delicious Intent
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Delicious Intent

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A one week holiday to South-West France to help her two best friends plan their wedding was supposed be relaxing. A chance to recharge her batteries. But Madison didn’t figure Ben’s arrogant, surly brother, Dom, into the equation, nor his sexy cousin, Luc.
With both men flexing their testosterone-charged muscles over her, and Dom’s bitch of a soon-to-be ex-wife stirring things up, Madison has choices to make. The sexy, French chef or the sex-on-legs photographer . Both are equally appealing. Both come with hazard-warnings. But only one of them has a dark side that taps into Madison’s fragile psyche and exploits her past shame.

Excerpt from “Delicious Intent”

“Who’s that man over there, Mel?”
“Which one?” she followed the direction of my gaze.
“The one with the amazing eyes.” It was true. His eyes were the most unusual shade of pale blue, almost translucent, even from a distance. If I was a poet I would have likened them to windows into his soul. But I was the last person to be accused of being overly romantic. I hadn’t dated in over two years and sex had been off the agenda even longer.
Perhaps I just needed to get laid. On the other hand, I liked the person I was at the moment. For the first time in ages I felt OK with my past. I had flashbacks from time to time but the main thing was I was mostly healed.
“Oh, that’s Dom, Ben’s brother. I wonder where Sandrine is.”
The cautionary tone in her voice should have been warning enough but I’ve never been one to back down from a challenge. Another glance at Dom sealed it.
“Sandrine?”
“His wife. And the reason why he looks so damned hostile, no doubt.”
“What do you mean?” The on/off switch that normally activated when I encountered a good-looking, married man was definitely stuck in the off position where Dominic Caillebot was concerned. Every time I looked at him, something about him made my feminine hormones want to party.
“I shouldn’t really say anything,” Mel continued. “Dom and Sandrine have split up more times than I can count. The last time I came to Sainte Aureilles to meet Ben’s family, they were separated and supposedly about to divorce. But I hear she’s back again.”
A heavy bolt of disappointment I had no right to feel hit me in the rib cage. My focus trailed back to Dom’s last known direction. Unexpectedly, his ice-blue eyes snagged mine, rooting me to the spot. I managed to hold his gaze. Though his face showed no sign of emotion, he bored into my mind, invading my thoughts. That he could do that from fifteen metres made my pulse spike. I turned away and sipped my aperitif, conceding that in our impromptu eye battle of wills he’d just won. Something told me we weren’t finished.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateDec 17, 2014
ISBN9781310298097
Delicious Intent
Author

Annette Hawkins

Author, living in South-West France, whose passions include reading and writing sexy romances, and sunflowers. I started writing seriously when my husband and I moved to the South West of France in 2005. We bought our “rural escape from the rat-race” - a traditional Gascogne farmhouse - in 2000 but it wasn’t until visiting the region on holiday over the following five years, and falling in love with the countryside and our French neighbours, that we decided to move here permanently. Opting for a complete career change, I started designing and selling dichroic glass jewellery, mainly at the local craft fairs and weekly French markets in the region, and was fortunate to meet an eclectic range of interesting people. To while away the time between customers, I kept an A4 notebook at hand to scribble down concepts for my stories which I set in some of my favourite exotic locations around the world. Especially those I had the chance to visit during my career pre-France. The fact that I was dreaming up erotic romance novels while working on a market stall amused my French and English clients no end, and I had the great fortune to receive support and encouragement from a couple of published authors, to whom I am eternally grateful. Since my first attempt to get published, I have written several other romances which I intend to publish soon. In my spare time, I teach English to adults at debutant and intermediate level.

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    Delicious Intent - Annette Hawkins

    DELICIOUS INTENT

    Annette Hawkins

    Published by Annette Hawkins at Smashwords

    Copyright 2014 Annette Hawkins

    This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

    Chapter 1

    Maddie

    Sexual attraction to another human being - sweet, crazy, heart-pounding, sense-tingling attraction - is a powerful emotion. It stops you dead in the centre of the room, all your nerve-endings and body parts alert and fluttery to that other person.

    It lends purpose to your day, guides your actions, and infuses your dreams with desire and longing. It creeps under your skin when you least expect it. It makes you feel alive. It instils faith, and hope that this attraction - this perceived connection to another person - will lead to so much more.

    Unfortunately, my experiences of this phenomenon were tainted.

    Looking back, Dominic Caillebot, wasn’t the sexiest, most drop-dead gorgeous man I’d ever seen. That title was reserved for Luc Caillebot, his cousin. Yet I couldn’t help notice him, or Dom as his family called him, right from the start. He had a particular presence - a strong, masculine, earthy aura - that made him stand out from the rest of the party.

    Standing head and shoulders above everyone else, he claimed my attention without being aware. A strange, unfamiliar sensation, like ants crawling across my skin, unsettled me but didn’t stop me staring at him.

    I could tell, by the way his clothes clung to his broad frame, he kept himself fit. His white shirt-sleeves were rolled up on his solid forearms, revealing a healthy sprinkling of fine, dark hair yet, for all his sheer size and aura of authority, he had the most expressive hands I had ever seen. Then I caught the glint of a wedding ring on his left hand and a sharp zap of reality hit me.

    He was out of bounds. It didn’t mean I couldn’t ask who he was though.

    The room was filling up fast. As I glanced round at the rest of the guests talking over champagne cocktails, I realised the only people I knew were Mel, my BFF since school days, and Ben, Mel’s fiancé, and my surrogate big brother. The occasion - a party in honour of their engagement and forthcoming marriage. The venue - Sainte Aureilles, Ben’s family home in the South-West of France, ninety kilometres west of Toulouse.

    My French language skills, honed during a year in Paris with the Chloé fashion house a few years back, were just about holding up. It didn’t help that most people at the party, with the exception of Ben, Mel, and Monsieur Tall, Dark and Married, were several decades older and had a strong regional dialect. Fortunately, Mel was as much out of her depth as I was.

    Who’s that man over there, Mel?

    Which one? she followed the direction of my gaze.

    The one with the amazing eyes. It was true. His eyes were the most unusual shade of pale blue, almost translucent, even from a distance. If I was a poet I would have likened them to windows into his soul. But I was the last person to be accused of being overly romantic. I hadn’t dated in over two years and sex had been off the agenda even longer.

    Perhaps I just needed to get laid. On the other hand, I liked the person I was at the moment. For the first time in ages I felt OK with my past. I had flashbacks from time to time but the main thing was I was mostly healed.

    Oh, that’s Dom, Ben’s brother. I wonder where Sandrine is.

    The cautionary tone in her voice should have been warning enough but I’ve never been one to back down from a challenge. Another glance at Dom sealed it.

    Sandrine?

    His wife. And the reason why he looks so damned hostile, no doubt.

    What do you mean? The on/off switch that normally activated when I encountered a good-looking, married man was definitely stuck in the off position where Dominic Caillebot was concerned. Every time I looked at him, something about him made my feminine hormones want to party.

    I shouldn’t really say anything, Mel continued. Dom and Sandrine have split up more times than I can count. The last time I came to Sainte Aureilles to meet Ben’s family, they were separated and supposedly about to divorce. But I hear she’s back again.

    A heavy bolt of disappointment I had no right to feel hit me in the rib cage. My focus trailed back to Dom’s last known direction. Unexpectedly, his ice-blue eyes snagged mine, rooting me to the spot. I managed to hold his gaze. Though his face showed no sign of emotion, he bored into my mind, invading my thoughts. That he could do that from fifteen metres made my pulse spike. I turned away and sipped my aperitif, conceding that in our impromptu eye battle of wills he’d just won. Something told me we weren’t finished.

    You’re right about one thing. He’s definitely hostile.

    Mel wasn’t listening. Her nerves at meeting Ben’s entire family had begun to surface. Thanks for coming with me to help sort out the wedding plans, Maddie. I don’t know how I would have faced all of Ben’s relatives on my own.

    I gave her an understanding grin. As Mel’s bestie and Maid of Honour, it was the least I could do. Ben and Mel’s romance wasn’t a whirlwind affair - they’d been a couple for two years - however Ben had just been offered an executive marketing position in New York and was due to move there in fifteen days time. The decision to get married was inevitable yet sudden. So sudden, that Mel’s parents, who were visiting Mel’s brother and his wife in Perth, Western Australia for the Spring, could not be here to meet Bens’ family at the engagement party. Hence the reason I’d been invited along to support her.

    I glanced around at Ben’s assembled family. They seemed so relaxed - so much shared history - laughing and smiling. The only people I ever felt relaxed around were Mel and Ben, and Mel’s parents. My own parents were alive but I’d cut them out of my life a long time ago. I didn’t regret the decision. I barely gave them much thought these days. My childhood, I cared to remember even less.

    My heart stuttered then went into free fall.

    The tall, imposing man with the amazing eyes - the one called Dom - was striding across the room, in my direction, with an expression on his face that I spelt trouble.

    Close up, the resemblance between Ben and his older brother was more evident. Although they had different colouring in terms of hair and eyes, they both had strong, masculine jaw-lines and angular cheek bones. While Ben’s hair was short and well groomed; swept back from his face as befitting his Senior Marketing Executive role, Dom wore his hair longer, flopping messily from his forehead to frame his jaw, and his full mouth hinted at a heated sensuality that struck me right in the pit of my stomach.

    Bonsoir Dom. Mel reached up on tip-toe to greet him with a kiss on each cheek. Ca va?

    Bonsoir Melody. I’m fine, thank you. As his lips brushed her cheeks, his eyes tripped over me, revealing little emotion. His presence was imposing and a little scary.

    Mel came to my rescue. Oh, I’m sorry. You haven’t met my best friend, Maddie. Madison Delaray, actually. Maddie is helping me with the wedding plans.

    When I extended my hand, his grip was firm and encompassing. My fingers felt dwarfed inside his. Heat seemed to radiate from every cell in his huge body as his deep-blue eyes locked with mine in the equivalent of an arm wrestle, challenging me to look away.

    Madison?

    I returned his scrutiny with a challenge of my own. What was it about macho men that they thought they had to control you? That’s right. Rumour has it that I was conceived in New York, but I don’t know whether it’s true or not.

    It was my usual conversation ice-breaker but while Mel and I laughed, Dom’s face remained impassive. I felt like a butterfly under a magnifying glass. I was tempted to pull him up on his bad manners but I didn’t want to risk upsetting Mel. Not when she was already anxious about meeting the in-laws.

    Instead, I continued to babble like a fool. My friend’s call me Maddie. Madison Delaray is my professional name.

    And which profession would that be?

    This time, the undercurrent of tension was clear. Mel gave a nervous cough, knowing it didn’t take much to turn me defensive - sarcasm being my preferred weapon of choice. Maddie’s a wedding dress designer. She’s making my dress for me.

    For Mel’s sake, I swallowed back the acid comment that sat on my tongue. What do you do for a living, Monsieur Caillebot? I asked coldly.

    Before Dom could reply, Mel stepped into the breach. It was probably just as well. The gravelly sound of his voice still vibrated in the pit of my stomach and somewhere else it shouldn’t have. It left me breathless and shaken to my flaming-pink toe nails. I’d never had that kind of reaction to anyone before and it wasn’t welcome now.

    Dom’s just opened up a restaurant in the grounds of the estate. It took him eighteen months to convert the old stable block. She turned to face him. How is the restaurant coming along, Dom? I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for the opening night last month.

    As he released me from his gaze and turned his attention to Mel, I had the distinct impression I’d been dissected, scrutinised and found lacking, all in the space of a few seconds. The rest of the evening didn’t bode well. Perhaps I should find a corner to hole up in and hope that everyone forgot about me. Except I couldn’t. Monsieur Tall, Dark and Married was staring at me again.

    Business is picking up. We’re getting good reviews. I’m taking on two extra staff to help in the kitchen next month.

    His English was perfect, delivered with a thick French accent that would make any woman capable of ovulating swoon. Accompanied by those mesmerising, blue eyes and striking face, I felt the full force of his Gallic charm, right between my inner thighs. It was a bizarre feeling. He was rude, arrogant and downright boorish yet the on/off switch where Dom Caillebot was concerned was definitely broken. I needed to get a grip because the man obviously had a downer on women. Or perhaps just one woman. Me.

    I made a mental note to assign Dom the top of my list of people to avoid for the rest of the evening. However good-looking he was, he had a bad ass attitude seeping from his pores. I didn’t need that kind of karma, especially from someone I didn’t know.

    I’m really pleased for you, Mel continued. If you like, I could write a review of the restaurant for my magazine. Or create a blog. It might help to generate some international publicity for you.

    Wouldn’t that be considered biased reporting? he asked to my left.

    Not if I include it in a review of some of the other restaurants in the area. What do you think?

    He gave his impressive shoulders a shrug. Why not? Any publicity is good publicity. Don’t you agree, Ms. Delaray? Without warning, his focus honed back on me like a heat-seeking missile, causing me to spill my drink down my dress.

    Holy shit. The message in his eyes was downright primal.

    Scared to the point of chills, I tried to come back with a witty, insightful comment but couldn’t get past his unusual eyes. They had me rooted to the spot and wanting to get naked and raunchy with him somewhere dark and private.

    I don’t know how long it took for me to realise that the general buzz of conversation around us had stopped and an eerie silence hung over the room. Grateful for some respite from his intensity, I followed the direction of the turned heads and caught sight of one of the most beautiful women I’d ever seen standing in the ornate door frame.

    Six foot something tall, mocha-skinned, with long, raven-black hair piled on the top of her head, she wore a brown chiffon camisole and trousers which, although chic and expensive, left nothing to the imagination. The outline of her dark aureoles and perky nipples were clearly visible through the transparent material and her modesty below the waist was covered by the briefest of thongs. It was a daring and totally inappropriate outfit to wear to a family event. I had to admire her bravado.

    Amazon Woman pushed back her shoulders and scoured the room until she found her target, the man by my side. Knowing the eyes of every red-blooded male, and most of the women, were glued to her near-naked body, she crossed the room with the grace of a lioness prowling for a mate.

    Dom. There you are. she pouted. I’ve been looking all over for you.

    Warning bells went off in my head. Close-up, her face said spoilt, bored and downright malicious as she placed an arm through Dom’s, staking her claim. Standing side by side, they were equal height. My skin prickled. She looked familiar, though I couldn’t place her.

    Hello Sandrine, Mel broke the tension.

    Hello Melody. So you finally snared your man. When’s the date?

    Her accent was French, without any warmth. The penny dropped. As did Dom’s eyes from my face. From my position beside Mel, I caught his unguarded reaction. The taut set of his mouth revealed that he wasn’t exactly rapturous to see his wife, and he wasn’t impressed with her choice of outfit either. I tried to avoid looking at her nipples but, taking into account her four inch heels, they were pretty much in my face.

    In four months. Dom’s kindly agreed to let us have the reception at the restaurant.

    How nice for you. Ignoring me completely, Sandrine changed the subject. Have you seen Luc?

    Before I could enquire who Luc was, Ben, Mel’s fiancé, strolled up to join us. He’s just flown in from New York. He’s hoping to be here later.

    Thank goodness for Ben, my second favourite person in the world. Unlike his brother, Dom, Ben was blonde, and his eyes are warm and tawny brown. He slipped an arm around Mel’s shoulders and pulled her close. It made me smile the way they needed to touch each other all the time.

    I should mention that Ben and I used to be an item. Before Mel, of course. For me it was more a friends with benefits sort of arrangement. Unfortunately for Ben, it was a whole lot deeper. Which was why I was relieved when he finally fell for my best friend, Mel.

    I knew Mel was in love with him. She had been for ages, ever since I’d brought them together at a colleague’s flat-warming party. When Ben finally came to his senses, and transferred his affections to Mel, everyone was happy. And we all stayed friends. Which was my aim all along.

    And here he was, staring at the love of his life, his soon-to-be-bride, with unashamed pride and adoration pinned to his face. It filled me with a stupid, unaccountable optimism that I might find a similar kind of love one day. The trouble was, I wasn’t as adorable or as cute as Mel. And I wasn’t as trusting around members of the masculine sex. I had the men in my past to thank for that.

    Hey beautiful, come and meet Aunt Mimi. She’s dying to meet you.

    As Mel beamed back at him with the same love written all over her face, it struck me the contrast between the two couples. One brother was completely loved up and the other brother was completely hardened. It must have been a bitter pill for Dom to swallow, watching Ben and Mel, especially when his marriage was allegedly between a rock and a hard place. On the other hand, judging by their boorish attitudes, it seemed to me that Dom and La Belle Sandrine deserved each other.

    Thankfully Sandrine waited for Mel and Ben to move away before reverting to type. Isn’t love’s young dream just wonderful, Dom? she sniped. Do you remember when we were like that?

    I didn’t realise I was staring at her until Dom moved into my eye line to whisper in her ear. His voice was low and even though his words - in French - were intended for his wife, I was close enough to hear him say, This is a family celebration. Don’t spoil it.

    Sandrine tipped back her head as though he had just told her a private joke. That’s so funny, she replied, also in French, then switched to English for my benefit. Would you fetch me a drink, cheri? A large one. I’ll look after Melody’s little friend until you get back.

    Little friend?

    She waited for Dom to leave before she gave me a critical once over. Don’t you find family events tedious? Especially when they’re not your own family. I had better things to do tonight but Dom ordered me to attend.

    The name to match the face fell into place. Forgive me for being rude, but aren’t you Sandrine Lacoste?

    Sandrine laughed - one of those laughs put on for the benefit of everyone else in the room. Heads turned in our direction, making me squirm. That’s right. Famous model, fashion designer and style-setter. At least, I was until I married Dom. I watched her glance in the direction of the engaged couple. I don’t know why Melody wants to settle down into domestic bliss with Ben. Being single is much more fun.

    Marriage doesn’t suit everyone. I’m sure, I countered, but I’ve never met a couple so much in love. I find it inspirational, especially in my line of business.

    At last, Sandrine deigned to look at me. Really, and what’s that?

    I could tell she was only pretending to be interested. Under normal circumstances I would have fallen back on my sense of humour but being stuck with an out and out bitch brought the bitch out in me.

    I’m a wedding dress designer. I set up my own business two years ago, following an apprenticeship with Chloé in Paris. I had the satisfaction of seeing her eyes and nostrils flare.

    Really, how quaint. I guess it’s too early for you to be famous.

    Actually, I had four outfits in last month’s issue of Vogue. The special feature on Summer Weddings.

    I breathed a silent sigh of relief as Ben’s mother, Belle, pitched up in front of us with perfect timing. She was tiny compared to Sandrine but she managed to command a grudging respect from her on/off daughter-in-law. Which was more than anyone else seemed to do, including Dom.

    I was so grateful to see Belle, I could have kissed her on both cheeks. Any longer with Amazon Woman and I’d have been spewing cocktail sticks.

    Hello Sandrine. Madison, there’s someone I’d like you to meet. Would you follow me, please?

    With a gracious nod to Sandrine, Belle led me through the crowded room to the patio where a man with long, surfer-blonde hair and the most delicious, bite-worthy butt I’d seen was talking to Ben. Both had their backs to me. Both looked gorgeous.

    Luc, this is Madison, Mel’s friend. She’s a wedding dress designer and is going to create Mel’s dress for her.

    Hi Maddie, nice to meet you. His French accent was laced with a strong hint of California and he had a groomed yet outdoor, brimming with health look of a Surfer Boy, and a laid back attitude that put me instantly at ease. When he smiled, he revealed a set of perfect, white teeth. Ben’s told me all about you.

    My brain went on a short vacation which involved Luc and I semi-naked and bronzed on a tropical island, just the two of us. All good, I hope. Wow. If the rest of Ben’s relatives were as easy on the eye as Luc, I was going to enjoy my week-long stay in France.

    Mostly, but he didn’t let on how beautiful you were. His eyes glittered.

    Holy crap - did men’s eyes actually glitter, because the message in his eyes was too hot for me to process.

    Belle interrupted our mental foreplay. I should warn you, Maddie, when Luc turns on the charm no woman is safe.

    Is that so? I laughed to cover my embarrassment. Safe wasn’t a word that applied to Luc Caillebot. Mesmerising, charismatic, and oozing sexy from every cell in his toned body - yes. One hundred per cent. And we both knew it. I guess I’ll have to be on my guard then, won’t I?

    A slight commotion in the main room suggested that more people had arrived. Belle looked distracted. Excuse me, please. I need to welcome the rest of the family. There’s so much to do for this wedding, I was hoping that Dom would help me but he’s got other things to worry about. She broke off and headed back to the party, leaving the three of us in a cosy group on the patio.

    Ben enveloped me a warm hug which I returned with enthusiasm and a beaming smile. More like a big brother than a friend, he was the first person I would call in a crisis and the only man in my life whom I really trusted.

    Luc’s my cousin, he explained. He’s taking the wedding photographs for us. He zipped through the formal introductions, watching Luc and I like a bemused parent.

    When Luc held out a hand and turned the full force of his mesmerising smile on me it was just like in those cheap, romantic novels I enjoyed reading late at night when I couldn’t sleep. I literally felt the breath zap from my lungs and my brain and knees turn into a strawberry smoothie.

    Wow. Luc Caillebot would charm the birds and the bees from the trees without even trying. Being stuck in a lift with George Clooney, Brad Pitt and Gerard Butler all at the same time wouldn’t have had the same impact. I grinned back, trying to prevent myself from melting into a feminine puddle of repressed lust, as he pressed his lips to the back of my hand.

    When he pulled away, heat coloured my cheeks as his eyes intentionally lingered on my breasts then worked over the rest of me as though I was being offered up naked like a human sacrifice on his very own altar of worship. The guy was sex-on-legs in twenty metre high neon lights. And if I was being paired off with him for the duration of the night, I had no right to complain. Hell. It might even be fun because, if the alternatives were to stick to Mel and Ben like glue for the rest of the night or get stuck in the middle of Dom and Sandrine’s marital squabbles, I knew Luc was the option I’d be hanging my hat on.

    I returned his flirty smile. Ben didn’t tell me you were as handsome as you are lecherous either. Touché. Judging by your accent, I presume you’ve spent some time in America.

    That’s right. I finished off my studies in San Francisco. I’ve just set up a photography studio in New York. At the moment I’m dividing my time between the East Coast, Paris and Toulouse. Luc glanced at Ben and then back at me with a mock-frown. Delaray? Madison Delaray? Didn’t I see some of your designs in Vogue recently? Dolf Kirckstrom took the shots.

    Ben groaned. I can see you two are going to get along like a house on fire. I think I’ll leave you to get to know each other better while I keep tabs on my fiancée.

    Be careful, Maddie, he shot over his shoulder. Remember what Maman said. Luc will have your knickers as a trophy before you know it.

    He didn’t need to tell me. Luc was seriously hot but I had a cautious nature where players were concerned. At that moment, however, he was just the light flirtation I needed. The way he looked at me made me feel like he wanted to eat me whole. After the uncomfortable intensity of his cousin, Dom, the thought thrilled and excited me. As long as I was in control.

    I rounded on Luc, one eye-brow arched in my best Roger Moore impression. Your reputation precedes you. From now on, I guess I need to be on my guard. A glimpse over his right shoulder caught Dom watching us.

    Despite talking to the most beautiful individual at the party, even surpassing Sandrine, my insides did a strange flip. There was nothing friendly in Dom’s eyes. Instead, something akin to possession called out to me from the depths of his smouldering, blue eyes. The idea of taunting two testosterone-pumped guys at the same time made me reckless. I twirled my drink with my forefinger and licked off the alcohol in my most salacious manner then switched my full attention back to Luc.

    Do you know Dolf? Have you worked with him? I asked, my face a picture of innocence.

    So much for driving two men wild with lust. When I glanced across in Dom’s direction again, he’d disappeared.

    Damn. I was definitely losing my touch. Though not with Luc. I fended him off with business talk. He had worked in the fashion industry in New York and Paris for a few years and knew all the big names. Once we cut past the overt flirting and sexual tension, which we both knew was a way of testing each other out, we passed a pleasant half an hour talking about mutual friends and people we both admired. Luc knew people I would kill to meet up with. And I had contacts in London who might be useful to him. I delved into my handbag to retrieve a business card.

    If you ever come over to London, please look me up. Here are my contact details.

    Dom arrived at my shoulder at the exact moment I handed Luc my business card. His cold smile reached neither his eyes nor the corners of his mouth yet skittered over my skin like a layer of hoarfrost.

    Another conquest, Luc? That was quick work, even by your standards.

    WTF?

    You know me, Dom, Luc replied smoothly, without a hint of irritation. I can’t resist a beautiful woman. Have you met Maddie, Mel’s friend?

    Yes.

    Swallowing back a gutful of venom induced by Dom’s insult, I managed to keep the edge out of my voice. Please forgive me, Luc. You must be jet lagged, having just flown in. If you come over to London, give me a call. I’d be delighted to show you around.

    I started to move away but Luc held on to my hand. He seemed oblivious to Dom’s rudeness and my discomfort. I’d like that very much. There’s a possibility that I’ll be coming over to cover Jean-Paul Gautier’s exhibition next month. I’d love to spend a few evenings with you.

    His eyes danced. It was an obvious and cheap ploy but I played along to spite Dom. It’s a date then, I smiled. I’ll look forward to seeing you again soon.

    Dom glared at me as I excused myself on the pretext of refreshing my drink. I rejoined the rest of the family with as much sway in my hips as I could manage, all the time pretending that his opinion of me didn’t matter.

    I see you’ve managed to make the acquaintance of the very beautiful Luc. Sandrine was waiting for me with a fishbowl-sized drink in her hand. She cupped the curve of her glass between her fingers while her eyes rested on the two men on the other side of the garden.

    Yes. It seems we have a number of mutual friends.

    I moved to one side, intending to continue to the bar but Sandrine placed a hand on my arm.

    You couldn’t keep Dom occupied for half an hour, could you? she whispered.

    Why would I do that? I asked, surprised by her request. I didn’t peg her as my new best friend and was suspicious of her motives.

    "I need to make a private phone call and Dom is so jealous,

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