banner banner banner
Chosen As The Frenchman's Bride
Chosen As The Frenchman's Bride
Оценить:
Рейтинг: 0

Полная версия:

Chosen As The Frenchman's Bride

скачать книгу бесплатно


‘Have lunch with me tomorrow.’

He still wanted to see her?

She looked at him helplessly. She felt like a moth that was being attracted to a flame with danger written all over it, but the pull was so inexorable that she couldn’t help herself. She took a deep breath. The new Jane. Quash the panic. She felt shaky.

‘I’d like that.’

‘Which villa are you staying at?’

She told him the address.

‘Bien. I will pick you up at midday…till then.’

He strode back into the lobby and got into the lift without a backward glance.

Jane wandered back out to the poolside table in a daze. Sherry squealed when she saw her arrive. Remarkably, the men still hadn’t returned from the bar. Jane felt as though whole lifetimes had passed since Xavier had asked her to dance.

She fielded Sherry’s questions, being as vague as possible. When the men arrived back poor Pete didn’t stand a chance. He tried to press a kiss to her lips before she left at the end of the evening, but she gave him her cheek. Somehow the thought of anyone else kissing her where Xavier had was anathema.

She didn’t see the look of triumph on the face of the man watching from his penthouse suite overlooking the pool.

Back in the villa, Jane couldn’t settle and went up to the terrace which overlooked the twinkling lights of the town below, still feeling slightly dazed. Her thoughts drifted to her mother, who she hoped was enjoying much the same view. She was on her honeymoon in Cyprus, with Arthur, the man she’d met a year previously. Jane thought of the recent wedding day with a smile. How proud she had been to give her mother away to such a kind, gentle man. If anyone deserved another stab at happiness it was she.

Since her father had died at just thirty, leaving her mother penniless, with Jane still a baby, it had been a monumental struggle. Her mother had changed overnight from a relatively carefree newlywed to a woman who had had to seek work to make ends meet. Sometimes she worked three jobs at once, just to put food on the table and get Jane through school and then college, despite Jane working too to help out.

Even when Jane had finished her degree and had begun working as a teacher her mother had refused money, insisting that she build up a nest egg for herself.

Years of worry and work had sapped her mother’s joy and increased Jane’s concern. But now…now she was allowing herself to feel love and happiness again, and if she could embrace a new lease on life then so could Jane.

Starting tomorrow.

With a shiver of anticipation snaking down her spine she finally left the view.

CHAPTER THREE

WHEN she woke the next morning Jane couldn’t believe she had slept at all—much less for…She consulted her watch in disbelief—ten hours straight. Which meant, she realised with a lurch of panic, that she had exactly one hour before Xavier was due to pick her up for lunch.

She sprang out of bed and after a quick shower regarded her wardrobe, plucking a pair of white culottes from the messy pile, and a striped white and black halterneck top. She smoothed her hair behind her ears, and with espadrilles and a pair of hoop earrings was just about ready to go downstairs when the doorbell rang.

Already!

She took a few deep breaths and walked to the front door, trying to calm the butterflies in her belly.

Be cool, be calm, be sophisticated.

She opened the door, the smile on her face fading and her mouth going dry when she took in the man in front of her. Pure devastation. He was leaning against the doorframe, arms folded across his broad chest, showing his muscles off to perfection. He wore a casually faded black T-shirt and jeans, scuffed deck shoes on his bare feet. She could feel her face colour as she brought her eyes back up. She had just examined him…and blatantly!

She couldn’t see his eyes, as they were hidden behind dark shades, but she saw all too well the way his mouth quirked.

‘I hope I pass inspection?’

What could she do? She had been caught out beautifully. She had to smile, revealing small, even white teeth and a dimple in her cheek.

‘You’ll do.’

She bent down to pick up her bag, where she’d stuffed her bikini and a sarong among other bits and pieces, not sure what he had planned, and pulled the door behind her, careful to lock it securely. He took the bag from her and led the way to his car. She was glad to see that although it was a convertible it wasn’t one of those tiny low-slung things that she privately thought looked ridiculous.

As he negotiated his way down the small winding streets with casual expertise she started to relax and look around. She was very aware of his tanned hands on the wheel, moving to the gear-stick near her leg, and of the long fingers with short square nails. She swallowed and quickly put on the shades that had been resting on her head in case he caught her staring again.

‘How long are you here for?’ he asked idly.

‘Just another week; I’ve already been here for one. This is such a treat.’

‘What is?’

Nerves made her babble. ‘To be taken out…driven around. I have a hire car, but this place is like a labyrinth…The first day it took me an hour to find my way back up the hill from the town.’

‘I know…it is getting crazier, with more and more tourists…We’re hoping that they’ll make the centre of the town entirely for pedestrians only; it’s small enough, so it could work.’

His comment reminded her who she was dealing with. He wasn’t just a local, he was the local. She felt intimidated all of a sudden.

He cast a curious glance her way. ‘Cat got your tongue?’

She shrugged lightly, honesty prevailing. ‘I know this might sound silly, but I keep forgetting that you are…who you are. You own that entire island…that hotel chain. I guess it’s just a little overwhelming. I bump into you in the street two days ago and now here I am in your car.’ She gave a nervous laugh.

Xavier looked over at her sharply, but she had her face averted. Well, this was a new approach—and one that he hadn’t encountered before. Was she for real? More or less hinting that she’d be more comfortable with him if he were just a pilot? He’d never had to reassure a woman before by playing his status down…normally they wanted him to play it up! Well, if this was a game that she was playing then he would play along. She was intriguingly different from any other woman he’d ever known. Whether it was artifice or not he didn’t much care. He wasn’t planning on getting to know her too well…just well enough.

His glance took in the long shapely legs beside him. He could imagine how they might feel wrapped around his naked back. He grew hard there and then, much to his chagrin. He wasn’t used to being at the mercy of hormones he had long ago learnt to control. A woman hadn’t had the power to ignite his desire so forcibly since…ever, he realised. He focused on the road, hands gripping the wheel. Only one way to exorcise this hunger raging in his blood.

He forced himself to say lightly, ‘Ah, so you admit now that you were the one who bumped into me?’

Jane cast him a quick glance, relieved to see him flash her a teasing smile.

Lord, but he was gorgeous. She couldn’t answer, nervously touching her tongue to dry lips.

‘I thought we’d take a little trip on my boat. I know a cove near here that’s usually deserted. We can swim and have a picnic.’

She was going to forget everything and enjoy this moment for what it was. She was being given a second chance…her fantasy was coming true…and she was smart enough not to sabotage it again. She hoped.

‘That sounds lovely.’

After he had parked the car and lifted out a hamper, he led her into a private marina, where yacht after yacht was lined up, bobbing on the water. His was a small sleek speed boat, with a tiny cabin down below.

‘This is how you get to and from the island?’

‘Yes…or I use the helicopter. This takes fifteen minutes.’

Of course…the helicopter!

It was hard to keep her intimidation at bay when he threw out such admissions of extreme wealth. She forgot everything, though, as he helped her into the boat, big hands curling around her waist to steady her, just under her breasts. Suddenly breathless, she moved away quickly to the other end and looked anywhere but at him. She could see the tourists in the distance, lining up for their day trips. That had been her yesterday, and if she hadn’t tagged onto that particular queue…

He showed her where to sit back and relax as he started up the engine and they pulled out into the open water. The breeze felt wonderfully cool on Jane’s skin, and she closed her eyes, lifting her face to the sun.

When she opened them again she found Xavier staring at her from behind the wheel, shades on his head. He didn’t look away. The gleam in his eyes was explicit, and Jane’s pulse started to speed up and throb through her veins. That kiss last night came back in vivid Technicolor, the feel of his chest against hers…She was the one to break contact first, putting on her sunglasses again. His mouth quirked in a mocking smile, the same one he had smiled in the street, aware of his effect. She tried not to let it unsettle her.

Leaving the harbour and marina behind, Xavier hugged the coast for a while. Jane was enthralled by the view of all the huge estates visible from their vantage point. They couldn’t really talk over the sound of the engine, but she was happy to drink in the sight of him when she was sure she couldn’t be caught. She’d never been reduced to this level of carnal feeling before. Didn’t know how to handle it.

She could see a small cove come into view, and Xavier negotiated the boat towards it. It looked empty. She was bizarrely both disappointed and excited not to have company, but if she was honest with herself she knew which feeling won out.

When he had anchored a short way from the shore he indicated the cabin below. ‘Why don’t you change into your swimsuit here? That way you can leave your things on board.’

‘Sure.’ Jane feigned a nonchalance that she was far from feeling.

Down below in the small cabin, she changed with awkward haste, half terrified that he’d come down the ladder. Her bikini had felt perfectly adequate up until today, but now she pulled at it ineffectually and tried to stretch it out. Had it shrunk? Somehow it felt as if it had become the skimpiest two-piece on earth since she had last worn it, and she was very conscious of her skin, still pale despite a slight tan. She chastised herself. He was no doubt used to seeing women baring a lot more, especially in this part of the world.

When she emerged from the cabin her skin was still gleaming from an application of suncream. Xavier’s breath stopped in his throat as she was revealed bit by bit. Like a lust-controlled youth, he couldn’t take his eyes off her chest, full and generous, yet perfectly shaped. She had tied a sarong around hips that flared out gently from a small waist. She looked shy and uncertain, as if she couldn’t bring herself to meet his eyes, which were hidden behind his dark lenses. Unbidden, and as swift as his physical response, came a desire to reassure and protect. Alien and unwelcome emotions when it came to him and women. Especially ones he’d known for less than forty-eight hours.

He masked it speaking more brusquely than he’d intended. ‘The water should only be waist-deep here, so you can wade ashore.’

He had to stop himself staring when she took off her sarong to reveal a curvy bottom and those never-ending legs…Her self-consciousness was at odds with her body. A body made for pleasure. His pleasure.

When Jane hit the water she welcomed the distraction from the fever racing in her blood. Tried to block out the potent image of the man leaning over the edge.

‘OK?’

‘Yes…fine.’

She half-swam, half-waded to the shore, grateful for the moment to herself. However impressive she had thought his physique while under clothes, it hadn’t prepared her for seeing him half naked. He should come with a health warning. He was the most perfect man she had ever seen. She’d tried to avoid looking, but it was impossible not to take in that expanse of bare, toned, exquisitely muscled chest. A light smattering of dark hair led down in a silky line to where his shorts…She gulped as she rested on the sand.

He was wading towards her, with the hamper held aloft in his arms, dark hair gleaming wetly against his head. Strong-muscled legs strode out of the water towards her. She had spread her sarong out on the sand, and was glad of the need for sunglasses and the protection, however slight, they afforded her. She brought her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them in another unconscious gesture of protection.

To her relief, he was businesslike. Coming to rest beside her on the sand, he opened up the basket, taking out a light blanket. He spread it out and started to take out a mouthwatering array of food. Olives, bread, cheese, houmous…sliced ham, chicken wings, pâté.

‘There’s enough food here to feed an army.’

‘Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.’

‘I wouldn’t know where to start.’

‘Why don’t we start here?’ he said, uncorking a bottle of champagne that came in its own encasing to ensure it stayed chilled. He filled two glasses and handed one to her.

‘To…meeting you.’

‘To meeting you.’ She echoed his words, not sure what to say.

A funny feeling lodged in her chest as she took a sip, the bubbles tickling her nostrils. As he busied himself preparing her a selection of food to pick from on a plate, she couldn’t help but shake the feeling that this was all a little too smooth…practiced, even—as if he had done it a thousand times before.

‘Do you come here often?’ she asked lightly, trying to make it sound like a joke.

He stopped what he was doing and looked at her sharply. ‘Do you mean have I brought women here before? Then the answer is yes.’

She was taken aback by his honesty. He hadn’t tried to temper his words, or make her feel better. Somehow it comforted her. Although the thought of being the latest in a long line of undoubtedly more beautiful women caused some dark emotion to threaten her equilibrium, which she was barely clinging on to as it was.

‘I can tell you, though, that it hasn’t been for some time. And there probably haven’t been half as many as you seem to be imagining. I’ve come here since my teens, and it’s a favourite hang-out for friends of both sexes…not some place purely to seduce women.’

‘Oh…well, of course. I never thought for a second—’

‘Yes, you did—but I suppose I can’t blame you.’

A blush crept up over her face and she turned her attention to the food, hoping to distract him and get off the subject. She could envisage a neon sign above her head with an arrow pointing downwards saying—Gauche!

She crossed her legs and helped him to put out the food. If anything had ever helped her to take her mind off things then it was food. She tucked in healthily. After the first few mouthfuls she looked up to find him staring.

‘What?’ She wiped her mouth with a napkin. ‘Have I got some food somewhere?’

He shook his head, taking his glasses off. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen a woman eat the way you do. You look like you could keep going until everything is gone.’

She smiled wryly. ‘My appetite is legendary, I’m afraid. You’ve probably met your match. I’ve never been a delicate eater…’

He nodded towards her. ‘Keep going, please—I’m enjoying the novelty of watching a woman relish her food.’

Suddenly self-conscious, she took a sip of champagne to wet her throat and forced herself to keep eating as nonchalantly as possible. But now his attention was focused on her it was impossible. He seemed to be fixated by her mouth. She swallowed a piece of cheese with difficulty.

‘The history of your island seems fascinating…what I read of it in the exhibit space. Has your family really been there for centuries?’

Thankfully he finally took his gaze away. ‘Yes. They were given the island as a gift by the French royal family in the twelfth century. We originally came from Aragon, in Spain. The royals in the north wanted to establish allies in the south. We took the name of the island and added it to Salgado…hence my name today.’

‘And are there many in your family now?’

His voice was curiously unemotional. ‘No, just me left…Hard to believe that the line could very well die out with me. I was the first born, and my mother passed away when I was five…my father never married again, and he died when I was in my early twenties.’

Jane pushed her glasses up onto her head, her eyes wide and sympathetic. ‘I’m sorry…he must have loved her a great deal…and to lose both parents so young…My father died when I was small too—a baby. But at least I still have my mother.’

Xavier looked into her eyes and felt an unfamiliar sensation, almost like losing his footing. How had they got onto this subject?

She gazed out to the sea and shook her head.

‘I just remembered what I read about the earthquake…it must have affected your family?’

He followed her look. ‘Yes, it did…all of them perished apart from my great-grandparents…not to mention many of the islanders. Whole families were wiped out.’

‘That’s awful. It must have taken generations to begin to forget, rebuild lives…’

He nodded. ‘We built a commemorative grotto to their memory on the island some years ago. There are hundreds of names inscribed.’

She turned shining eyes on him, stunning him again momentarily. ‘That sounds like a lovely thing to do. I wish I’d seen it…how come the tour didn’t go there?’

He shrugged. ‘It’s small, and wouldn’t mean much to anyone else. It’s a very personal space for the islanders.’