by Susan Lewis
‘Never!’ she cried, breathlessly. ‘Well, maybe for now. This is an amazing party. What would the owners say if they found out about it?’
Guy’s handsome face was simmering with laughter as he looked at her, admiring the impish light in her eyes and the fullness of her smile. ‘Why, you going to tell?’ he teased.
‘I wouldn’t know who to tell,’ she laughed.
Leaning an elbow on the rail beside her he gazed seductively into her eyes. ‘I’ll let you into a secret,’ he said, his lips touching her ear as he spoke. ‘The owner knows. Who else do you think is paying for all this champagne?’
Louisa shrugged then shivered as he pressed his lips to her neck. ‘I hadn’t really thought about it,’ she said. ‘So where is he? Don’t tell me …’ The music suddenly crescendoed.
‘What? You’ll have to speak up,’ Guy shouted.
‘Never mind,’ Louisa shouted back. ‘I was just asking where the owner was.’
‘The owner? He’s in the States.’
‘Sarah! What are you doing?’ Louisa laughed as Sarah grabbed her arm and pulled her to one side.
‘You’ll never guess whose boat this is,’ Sarah shouted in her ear.
‘Whose?’ Louisa grinned, knowing from the excitement in Sarah’s eyes it was going to be someone famous.
‘Jake Mallory’s. Well, his father’s. Pierre just told me.’
The warmth drained from Louisa’s smile. ‘Jake Mallory,’ she repeated, feeling the words drop like lead weights on her spirits. Dear God, the man was omnipresent and as the effects of the alcohol began rushing through her head she suddenly wanted very much to leave.
Sarah nodded.
‘Then where is he?’ Louisa demanded querulously.
Sarah shrugged. ‘Don’t ask me. But I thought you’d like to know who our host was. Small world, eh?’
‘Isn’t it just,’ Louisa commented, unable to keep the edge from her voice, angry because this had put a damper on what until now had been a terrific evening.
‘Hey come on, you two,’ Guy laughed, ‘no more secrets. Let’s dance,’ and pulling Louisa back into the crowd he twirled her under his arm while somehow grabbing two brimming glasses from a passing tray.
Jake was sitting in the Caviar Club bar at the Carlton Hotel, sipping a beer while reading through the stack of papers in front of him. Since he was wearing an old, torn pair of jeans and a faded denim shirt with a black bandanna knotted around his neck he was attracting more attention than he realized. There were no actual rules stipulating dress but the other men in the small, baroque-style bar all wore gold-buttoned blazers, white shirts, yacht club ties and smart, flannel slacks. Jake had little time or regard for such sartorial proprieties, he was there to keep a rendezvous, not to impress, though had he been anyone else he might well have been politely asked to leave. As it was, the waiter, knowing exactly who Jake Mallory was, had served him his beer and left him alone.
It was amongst the few Americans in the bar that Jake was exciting the most attention, for one or two felt sure they recognized him. Only vaguely aware of their curiosity Jake concentrated on his documents until, looking up to see his guest walk in, he put the papers down and stood up to greet the woman who had delivered his car to St Tropez when he’d arrived. As she walked into his embrace Jake almost laughed at the way every eye in the room had come out on stalks. She was breathtaking and with her fine, ash-blonde hair piled with immaculate carelessness on the top of her head, her deep, royal blue silk dress that barely contained her generous breasts in its sequinned bodice, he guessed he couldn’t blame everyone for looking.
He kissed her lightly on both cheeks, whispered something in her ear that made her laugh, then pulled her down beside him on the banquette.
The waiter was already there, took Jake’s order and went. Jake scanned the bar, grinning as everyone looked quickly away before catching his eye. Beside him the woman crossed one exquisite leg over the other, revealing even more of her firm, brown thighs, while Jake leaned back, resting an arm along the back of the seat and lifted one foot onto the corner of the table. She was talking in a low voice, but Jake could hear her perfectly.
‘I’m not sure of the details yet,’ she was saying, ‘but Fernando will call here in the next fifteen minutes or so.’
‘Are they still in Mexico City?’ Jake asked.
‘He says not.’
‘Then where?’ Jake’s face was hard now, all traces of humour had vanished.
‘That’s why Fernando is calling,’ she answered. ‘I’ve spoken to San Diego, they’re expecting to hear from you in the next twenty-four hours.’
Jake nodded, his expression grimmer than ever. His hand, as he picked up his beer, was perfectly steady, but the tension in his fingers was noticeable.
Some ten minutes later he was called to the phone. He was gone for some time and when he returned it was to find that his guest had ordered another Bellini.
‘Drink that,’ he said, ‘then get onto Bob and tell him to take the Valhalla over to Corsica tonight.’
‘Where are you going?’ she asked as he pocketed his car keys and gathered together his papers.
‘I’ll be in touch,’ he said, throwing a two-hundred-franc note on the table. Then downing the rest of his beer he left.
Ignoring her drink, the woman picked up her bag and ran out into the street after him.
Louisa was leaning against the side of the boat, her head resting on a pillar, a warm glass of champagne cupped in her hands. Looking down at it she grimaced, tossed it over her shoulder into the sea, then closed her eyes for a moment. She’d had far more to drink than she could handle, though she put the way she was swaying down to the gentle motion of the yacht. The party was still in full volume, even more people had arrived now and Guy, like Danny and Sarah, seemed to have disappeared.
She opened her eyes as a young man fell into her, and assuring him that she was all right she looked across the deck to see Danny dancing with one of the Italian brothers. His hands were very low on Danny’s back, almost resting on her buttocks. Danny’s arms were around his neck, the hem of her short, clinging white dress riding high.
Louisa sighed, hiccoughed and put a hand to her mouth. Since finding out that this was, to all intents and purposes, Jake’s boat all the sparkle had gone from her evening. She no longer felt right about being there, wished she could go home, but hadn’t so far managed to tear herself away.
‘Hi, are you OK?’ Danny cried, using her hair to fan her back as she leaned against the side next to Louisa.
‘I’m great,’ Louisa smiled. ‘Where’s Sarah?’
‘God knows. She was with Pierre the last time I saw her. Why aren’t you dancing?’
‘I will in a minute. What’s happened to Romeo?’
‘He’s gone to get more of that,’ Danny answered, pointing at Louisa’s empty glass. ‘How many have you had?’ she laughed as Louisa pulled a face.
‘Don’t ask. Too many to drive.’
‘You’ll have to get a cab home then, ’cos I don’t think I’ll be coming back tonight,’ Danny grinned. ‘And you can bet your bottom dollar Sarah’s had a skinful. Ah, Saberio,’ she said affecting an Italian accent as she took a bottle in one hand and a glass of champagne in the other.
She giggled as Saberio swung her round so that he was leaning against the side and she was leaning against him. As he buried his face in her neck Danny’s eyes fluttered closed. ‘Mmm,’ she murmured, letting her head fall back. She looked at Louisa and grinned. ‘God, I feel horny tonight,’ she whispered.
‘I’d never have guessed,’ Louisa commented wryly.
‘I have bet with my brother,’ Saberio intoned in Danny’s ear, sliding his hand over her bottom. ‘We make bet that you wear nothing under this dress. Am I right?’
Danny winked at Louisa. ‘Well, that’s for you to find out,’ Danny laughed as Louisa rolled her eyes.
Saberio’s hands were now at the hem of her dress, brushing lightly ove
r her thighs.
There was a sudden uproar on the other side of the deck as several people leapt spontaneously into the sea. Everyone rushed to the edge to watch the swimmers, shouting to them, some tearing off their clothes and throwing themselves in too. As Danny looked back over her shoulder Saberio slid a thumb under her hem, stroking it gently across the crease of her bottom.
Danny’s eyes were smouldering as she turned back. ‘Mmm,’ she purred. ‘I think you’ve just found out. So do you win the bet?’
‘I win,’ he grinned, ‘but how I prove to my brother?’
‘I don’t know, you tell me,’ Danny smile I, following Saberio’s eyes back across the deck to Marco, who was idling against a pillar watching them.
‘Maybe like this?’ Saberio suggested, starting to roll her dress up over her buttocks, while pushing his tongue deep into her mouth.
Beside them Louisa moved restlessly, wondering if it was the heat that seemed to make everyone so sexually liberated. Then, to her amazement, naked from the waist down Danny turned around, leaned against Saberio and poured more champagne into her glass while keeping her eyes on Marco.
‘Danny!’ Louisa muttered.
Laughing, Danny passed her the champagne bottle and glass and rolled her dress back down as Saberio whispered something in her ear. Danny’s eyes darkened and from the corner of her eye Louisa saw Saberio’s hand travel up inside the front of Danny’s dress.
Feeling horribly like a voyeur Louisa started to move away when Saberio let Danny go and strolled over to his brother, passing Sarah on the way.
‘Where have you been?’ Danny laughed seeing Sarah’s bleary eyes and smudged lips.
‘Disgracing myself over the side of the boat,’ Sarah groaned, jerking her head back as Danny’s champagne glass came dangerously close.
‘What happened to Pierre?’ Louisa grinned.
‘God knows,’ Sarah answered, closing her eyes and starting to sway. ‘Oh God, just take me home someone, please.’
‘Sit there,’ Danny said, pointing at the empty chair next to Louisa, ‘you’ll feel better in a minute.’
Sarah slumped into it as Louisa turned, resting her arms on the side of the boat, to gaze out at the moonlit sea. She didn’t see Saberio beckoning to Danny to go and join him and his brother, but as Danny moved away Louisa guessed they’d probably seen the last of her for tonight.
A few minutes later she was on the point of turning back to Sarah when her heart gave a painful twist and she swore under her breath. Quickly she turned her back as Jake and the beautiful blonde she’d seen him with in Mougins the day before came on board.
Guy and two other crew spotted them instantly and hurried over with champagne. Louisa couldn’t hear what was being said, but she could see Jake laughing and waving the drink away. He turned to the blonde, shouted something in her ear then they disappeared into one of the cabins.
Louisa looked down at Sarah who appeared half asleep. ‘Guess who’s just arrived?’ she said.
‘Mmm?’ Sarah grunted.
‘Nothing. Come on, let’s go home. Now.’
Sarah nodded and taking her by the arm Louisa helped her to her feet, laughing as Sarah gave a plaintive groan.
‘Just throw me over and let me drown.’ Sarah mumbled.
‘Come on,’ Louisa encouraged, ‘lean against me.’
‘Need a hand there?’
Louisa looked up, knowing from the voice whose face she was going to find herself looking into. As her eyes met Jake’s, to her dismay Sarah staggered against the side of the boat, taking Louisa with her.
‘No, no, we’re fine, thank you,’ Louisa assured him, trying to get Sarah upright again. ‘She’ll be OK once she’s on dry land.’
‘Sure,’ he said, still smiling. ‘Did she remember to give you my message?’
Louisa looked at him. So the message Sarah had blurted out in another inebriated moment had been for her. ‘Yes, she did, thank you.’
‘Hey, come on, let me give you a hand,’ he insisted as Sarah teetered towards him, and catching her he grabbed her about the waist and steered her over to the passerelle.
Louisa followed, realizing that she wasn’t any too steady herself. Fortunately she made it, but lost her balance momentarily as she stepped onto the harbour.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said, using Jake’s arm to steady herself. ‘I must have got used to the sway of the boat.’
‘It happens to most when they’ve been drinking on board,’ he told her. ‘You’ll be fine in a couple of minutes. Where’s your car?’
‘We haven’t got one,’ Louisa answered, linking Sarah’s free arm.
Jake’s dark eyes flashed with humour. ‘Seems like I’m destined to become your chauffeur,’ he remarked.
‘Oh no, I didn’t mean that,’ Louisa said hastily. ‘We can take a taxi. There’s sure to be one outside the Palais.’
‘My car’s nearer,’ he told her.
Louisa was about to protest again, but there was something about the laughter in his eyes that stopped her.
Between them they got Sarah to the Mercedes, though now she was on terra firma she was gratifyingly more stable on her feet. At last she was curled up on the back seat and Louisa was sitting beside Jake as he reversed the car back and headed out towards the Croisette.
‘I called you earlier,’ he said, glancing over at Louisa.
‘Did you?’ Louisa said, feeling her heart do all sorts of things she wished it wouldn’t.
He smiled. ‘Seems I didn’t have to look any further than my own front door, as it turned out.’
‘I didn’t know the boat was yours,’ Louisa told him, knowing she sounded ridiculously defensive.
He looked at her quizzically, then indicating to change lanes he turned the corner at the Martinez heading towards the autoroute. ‘That sounds like you wouldn’t have gone if you’d known,’ he remarked.
Louisa’s face was averted. ‘I wouldn’t have,’ she said.
Again he threw her a questioning look. ‘Did I do something?’ he said.
‘No, I don’t think so,’ Louisa answered.
‘Then why do I get the impression you’re ticked about something?’
‘Me?’ Louisa said, feigning surprise. ‘I’m not ticked, as you put it. I’m fine.’
‘So why wouldn’t you have gone to the party if you’d known the boat was mine?’
She was becoming uncomfortably hot and sorely wished she hadn’t got into this. ‘What I meant,’ she said lamely, ‘is that I wouldn’t have gone without an invitation.’
‘Why do you think I was calling you?’ he said.
Louisa was momentarily nonplussed, but then remembering that he’d arrived much later than everyone else and with the blonde in tow, she said, ‘I really don’t know why you were calling me, unless …’ she stopped, damned if she was going to let her jealousy show by saying something as crass as perhaps she was second choice.
‘Unless what?’ he prompted.
‘Nothing. Shall we change the subject? How’s your marina project coming along?’
‘Slowly,’ he answered, coming to a halt at the red lights at the foot of the Carnot. ‘Why else do you think I was calling you?’ he persisted.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I’ve got a bit of a headache and it’s making me snappy.’
He was still looking at her and his evident confusion was seriously weakening her resolve. But what she was feeling inside, the swirling emotions that were drawing her to him again, were, she had to keep reminding herself, exactly what all his other women probably experienced when they were under the scrutiny of those ruthlessly hypnotic eyes.
He pressed down on the accelerator and as the car slid into the heavy traffic of the Carnot neither of them said any more.
Sarah was the first to break the silence as they sped through the winding country roads between Mougins and Valanjou.
‘Louisa,’ she croaked, trying to pull herself up.
Louisa turned round.
>
‘Louisa, we have to stop.’
Jake was already pulling over to the side of the road and burning with embarrassment Louisa jumped out, pulled her seat forward and rushed Sarah over to the bushes.
‘I don’t believe you,’ Louisa muttered in her ear while holding Sarah’s hair from her face. ‘Couldn’t you have held on?’
‘I’m sorry,’ Sarah gasped weakly, then retching loudly she started to throw up again.
Louisa turned as she heard Jake get out of the car and watched him walk towards her.
‘Is she OK?’ he said, seeming as concerned as he did amused.
‘Let’s put it this way,’ Louisa answered, ‘she’s a whole lot better now than she’s going to be when I get her home.’
Jake laughed and at last Louisa’s face softened into a smile. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said.
‘Me too,’ he said. ‘I don’t know what I did, but I’m sorry.’
Louisa was still smiling. ‘You didn’t do anything,’ she told him, ‘at least nothing you don’t have a perfect right to do.’
‘You going to explain that?’ he said, lifting a hand to smooth his thumb along her jaw.
His touch was so gentle, yet so potent, that Louisa felt herself tremble. ‘Do I have to?’ she whispered.
He shook his head, his eyes looking deeply into hers. Then, cupping her chin in his hand, he kissed her softly on the mouth.
Louisa’s eyes were still closed as he lifted his head to look at her again. He waited for them to flutter open then kissed her again, just as softly, but this time more lingeringly, running his hand around her neck and pushing his fingers into her hair.
As gentle as the kiss was Louisa could feel a slow fire starting to burn inside her. The touch of his mouth was so sensual, so tender, yet so powerfully compelling it was as though he was touching every part of her. The lazy caress of his fingers seemed to draw her even further into the allure of his embrace, an embrace that had more potency in its gentleness than she could ever have dreamed possible.
Still his lips were on hers, tasting them, parting them, moulding them to his own. His eyes were closed, his hand held her, his magnetism flowed through her. Time was standing still, they were locked in a beautiful, sensuous world of their own.
