5

‘HOLD IT! HOLD it, Jean-Claude.’ Sarah cried, putting up her hands to stop him. ‘Did I just hear you say that Erik Svensson, Erik Svensson, the internationally renowned photographer, the drop dead gorgeous, be-still-my-galloping-heart, Erik Svensson, is a friend of yours?’

‘’e is a very good friend, oui,’ Jean-Claude grinned. ‘We ’ave known each other since maybe ten or fifteen years.’

Sarah turned to Louisa. ‘Did you hear that?’ she said. ‘He actually knows Erik Svensson.’

‘He knows everyone,’ Louisa said, laughing at Sarah’s incredulous delight and thanking Didier as he passed the bottle of Aligoté across the table for her to help herself.

They were sitting on the terrace over at Jean-Claude’s where the view of the red-roofed village way down at the bottom of the hill and the swelling peaks of the Alps in the far distance was so beautiful it was hard to believe it was real. Didier was barbecuing lamb chops and sausages while Jean-Claude laughingly impressed them with all the famous people he knew. Occasionally he winked at Louisa, letting her know when he was spinning a yarn, but it seemed that in this instance he really did know Erik Svensson.

‘In fact,’ Didier said, forking more sausages onto a plate. ‘’e is coming here this summer, is ’e not, Jean-Claude?’

Sarah looked at Jean-Claude as though she might devour him she was so dying for him to confirm it.

‘Yes, ’e will be ’ere,’ Jean-Claude told her solemnly. ‘But maybe ’e bring ’is wife, I don’t know.’

‘Who cares about his wife?’ Sarah cried. ‘It’s his talent I’m after. Do you think he’ll give me some pointers?’

‘Some advice,’ Louisa provided when Jean-Claude frowned.

‘Oh, I am sure ’e will. ’e is very ’elpful to those who are beginning. Didier, I think we have enough sausage now. Why don’t you sit down and ’ave something to eat yourself?’

‘So when’s he arriving?’ Sarah asked as Didier slid onto the bench beside her.

‘Who Erik? Soon I think. ’e ’as an apartment in Monaco, but ’e will stop ’ere for a day or two ’e says. Don’t worry, I will be sure to introduce you.’

‘Perhaps we can invite you all over to our place for aperitifs, or dinner,’ Louisa suggested. ‘Sarah can cook.’

Throwing her a meaningful look Sarah turned to Didier who was quite a keen photographer himself and as they became involved in a somewhat stilted conversation given their appalling grasp of each other’s language, Jean-Claude turned to Louisa.

‘Have you done much writing these past few days?’ he asked.

‘A little,’ she answered, helping herself to another lamb chop and some potato salad.

‘How much is a little?’

‘None actually. We’ve been sunbathing.’

‘That I can see,’ he laughed, looking at Sarah’s pink shoulders. ‘Will she go brown? She is very fair.’

‘Yes, she’ll go brown, a kind of honey colour, or so she tells me. Danny looks absolutely gorgeous, but then she already had a tan from when she was in Spain.’

‘Where is she tonight?’

‘She said she was going into Cannes, but Danny’s plans often change at the last minute, so we’ll see. I hope you’re not upset that she didn’t come.’

‘Not at all. She is looking for adventure and she knows she won’t find it ’ere, not with Didier and me.’

Louisa sighed and leaned back against the window sill behind her. ‘It’s so lovely here,’ she said, ‘so rustic and natural. It’s almost as if we were in another part of France altogether it’s so different from our garden.’

‘That is what is so special about here,’ Jean-Claude answered, ‘very little is as you expect it to be.’ He paused a moment to let that sink in, then continued. ‘Didier does the garden,’ he said, ‘but only when ’e feels like it, which is why we are so overgrown. ’e claims it is because ’e wants us to be private and I pretend to believe ’im.’

Louisa chuckled and reached out for her wine. ‘Did I tell you we’ve been considering setting up a production company down here?’ she said.

‘Sarah mentioned it to Didier this afternoon. I don’t wish you to think me pessimistic, but it is very ’ard and very complicated to start a business in France. Not to mention expensive. Do you ’ave any contacts to ’elp you get started?’

‘Not one,’ Louisa answered cheerfully.

‘Maybe I will ’ave some, I will think about it. ’ow did you get on by the way with ringing up your friends in London? Did they know any people down ’ere who you can meet?’

‘Only more English people. Except Danny’s jazz musician friend, Ricard, he’s put us in touch with a woman who lives on the Cap d’Antibes. Consuela something-or-another. She called us yesterday afternoon to invite us to dinner tomorrow night. We’re going, but only because Danny couldn’t think of an excuse not to.’

‘Why does Danny not wish to go?’

‘To quote Danny, “more fucking women”.’

‘I see. What with gay men and fucking women, Danny is not ’aving a ’appy time, is she?’

‘Not really, no,’ Louisa laughed.

‘But maybe there will be men at this dinner?’ Jean-Claude suggested.

‘I don’t think there will be, actually,’ Louisa said frowning. ‘I can’t remember now exactly what Danny said, but she made it sound like it was an all female thing. Did you get that impression, Sarah? That tomorrow night was all women?’

Sarah nodded. ‘Sounds a barrel of laughs, wouldn’t you say? Us three hanging out with the lace handkerchief, humming hearing-aid set.’

Didier, Louisa suddenly noticed, was looking at Jean-Claude. She turned to see why and saw that Jean-Claude was frowning.

‘Is something the matter?’ she said.

‘No, nothing is the matter,’ he answered.

‘Do you know this Consuela woman or something?’ Sarah asked, curiously.

‘No, I don’t know ’er, but if she is the woman I am thinking of then I ’ave ’eard about ’er. Didier, ’e knows some of the people who work for ’er.’

‘Who work for her? Why, what does she do?’

‘I think nothing. She is very rich. She lives alone in ’er ’ouse on the Cap and doesn’t go out very often. But she ’as a lot of people who go to visit ’er. We ’ave ’eard stories of what ’appens there, but we don’t know if they are true.’

‘Really?’ Sarah said, her eyes glittering with intrigue. ‘What kind of stories?’

Jean-Claude’s grin was mischievous. ‘I think maybe I should not tell you,’ he said. ‘I think that maybe you should come back and tell me if they are true.’ He translated this for Didier and Didier laughed.

‘Yes, you tell us,’ Didier said, his boyish face flushing ‘We want all detail, yes, Jean-Claude.’

‘Oh come on! This isn’t fair,’ Sarah cried. ‘Just give us a hint of what to expect.’

‘What we ’ave ’eard is only rumour,’ Jean-Claude said. ‘Some of it is good, some of it is bad. Maybe she is not a woman you should become involved with, but only, I think, because of the people she knows.’

‘What kind of people?’

‘Very dubious people. That is if the rumours are true. But maybe they aren’t.’

‘Just wait ’til we tell Danny this,’ Louisa laughed, ‘wild horses won’t keep her away now.’

Didier said something to Jean-Claude in French and, laughing, Jean-Claude turned back to Louisa. ‘You say it is an all female evening?’ he said.

‘I think so,’ she nodded, looking at Sarah as Jean-Claude’s teasing eyes moved between them.

‘This is driving me nuts,’ Sarah declared. ‘Come on, Jean-Claude, you obviously know something we don’t.’

‘I think,’ he said, ‘that you will find plenty of men there.’

‘Everyone who work for Consuela is man,’ Didier added.

For the second time that evening Sarah looked extremely impressed. ‘You mean she lives on her own with her own private supply of men to pander to her whims. Wow! What a set-up! This woman I’ve got to meet.’

‘You are honoured,’ Jean-Claude told them. ‘I don’t think many people get to see the inside of Consuela Santini’s home. So,’ he grinned, ‘I shall look forward to ’earing all about it later in the ’ope that at least some of the rumours I ’ave ’eard are true.’

‘My God, will you just look at this place?’ Louisa murmured as Danny gently accelerated her open-topped BMW into the drive. ‘Are you sure we don’t have to pay to get in?’

Danny and Sarah laughed.

‘It’s like something out of a Scott Fitzgerald novel,’ Sarah remarked, looking about her at the exquisite topiary, the gazebos, fountains, oriental pines, tropical palms and flowers that were so perfect and so vivid they hardly seemed real.

‘Did Jean-Claude say how she’d made her money?’ Danny asked.

‘No,’ Louisa answered, transfixed.

‘Wow, will you just look at that house,’ Sarah gasped as it came into view. ‘It makes our place seem like a hut. It’s a palace, it’s got to be, I’m telling you this is a palace.’

‘If it is then it’s a small one,’ Danny responded, feeling the sheer romance of the smooth white walls, the towering, arched french windows and the grand, immaculately carved columns wash over her.

‘What’s that building there, through the trees?’ Louisa said, pointing to the far side of the garden.

‘Looks like another house of some sort,’ Sarah answered. ‘Maybe it’s where the staff live.’

‘I’m glad we brought your car, Danny,’ Louisa said, ‘look at all these others. What’s that one there, the powder blue one?’

‘It’s a Ferrari,’ Danny answered, cruising slowly past it.

‘Where are you going to park?’ Sarah wondered aloud.

‘Is she serious?’ Danny said to Louisa. ‘I mean how much space do you want, Sarah? This forecourt’s got to be as big as a polo field. Anyway, if I’m not greatly mistaken I think someone else is about to take care of that. Hello,’ she said to the young man who was opening her door.

‘Hi,’ he said with a devastating smile. ‘I’m Carlos. Madame Santini is expecting you. If you would like to leave the keys in the car I will see that they reach you later.’

‘Thank you,’ Danny said, sounding every inch the lady as she stepped out of the car. ‘Maybe you’d like to return them to my friend here,’ she added indicating Louisa. ‘She’ll be driving us home.’

Louisa smiled up at him, feeling faintly ridiculous just sitting there, but assuming she should wait for him to open the door for her too. He did.

‘Hi, I’m Sarah,’ Sarah said smiling up at him as he held out his hand to help her from the back of the car. ‘Oh God!’ she gasped as her foot caught in the seat belt and she fell against him. ‘Sorry. Gosh, I’m so sorry.’

Carlos smiled, set her back on her feet and gave a slight bow as he directed them towards the house.

‘You did that on purpose,’ Danny hissed as they walked towards the house.

‘I did not!’ Sarah hissed back.

‘You’re going to show us up, I know you are,’ Danny seethed.

‘Don’t treat me like an idiot!’

‘Then don’t behave like one.’

‘Shut up arguing you two,’ Louisa said through her teeth, ‘and swear to me again that this dress isn’t too short.’

‘It’s only three inches above the knee!’ Danny cried. ‘And you look fantastic, how many times do we have to tell you?’ Which she did, particularly now that her olivey skin had turned even darker in the sun and the simple pale lemon linen dress, flat gold sandals and gold bangles on her wrists set it off to perfection.

Sarah too looked lovely. Her skin, as she had predicted, was turning honey, her bobbed hair was even blonder after a week in the sun and though a lot of people her size wouldn’t have dared to wear such a revealing dress, on Sarah it simply contrived to look sexy. Besides, she had good legs and provided she remembered to keep breathing in her figure – with a little imagination – was quite stunningly hour-glass.

Danny was breathtaking in a silver, sheath dress that showed every curve of her tall, voluptuous figure. Her glorious curly black hair spilled down her back covering the bare skin, but tantalizingly revealing the very low cut of the dress as she moved. She wore black spiked heel sandals making her beautiful, bronzed legs seem even longer and even more perfect than they already were. But even she, usually so confident in her looks, felt faintly diminished by the quiet elegance and sophistication of the woman in the plain, knee-length black dress with a black velvet bow holding back her lovely blonde hair, who was coming to greet them.

‘Hello,’ Consuela smiled, moving gracefully down the steps. ‘I’m so glad you could come. Now let me guess, which one of you is Danny?’

‘It’s me,’ Danny said, holding out her hand. ‘And this is Louisa, and this is Sarah.’

‘Hello,’ Consuela said, taking each of their hands in turn. ‘As I’m sure you’ve already guessed, I’m Consuela. Now, won’t you come through to the terrace and take a little aperitif before dinner? My other guests have already arrived. We’re eight altogether. I hope we won’t seem too formal, but this house does rather impose it on one.’

‘It’s a beautiful house,’ Louisa said, as they followed Consuela up the steps and through the double front door into the entrance hall.

‘Have you lived here long?’ Sarah asked.

‘It’s been in my family for quite some time,’ Consuela answered. ‘But I’ve lived here permanently for about three years.’

My God, it’s like an art gallery, Louisa was thinking to herself, as they walked through the capacious hall with its ornate sweeping staircase and innumerable framed portraits towards the sun-bleached doorway at the other end.

‘Maybe you’d like to take a look around later,’ Consuela offered, briefly turning back as she descended a set of steps midway across the hall.

‘Oh, we’d love tooooo–,’ Sarah cried, grabbing Louisa as her right foot skidded from under her on the polished marble. Louisa tried to catch her, but it was too late and as Sarah hit the floor Louisa was almost dragged down with her.

Hearing the thump Consuela and Danny turned back, looking down at Sarah in astonishment.

‘Before you say one word, Danielle Spencer,’ Sarah said savagely, ‘I did not do it on purpose.’

Danny’s eyes flickered to Consuela’s as she struggled to suppress her laughter. ‘I’m sure you didn’t,’ she said, almost losing it as she noticed how Louisa’s shoulders were shaking.

Consuela looked at Danny uncertainly, then at Louisa, then down at Sarah. Quickly she put a hand to her mouth, but not before Danny had seen the smile. Then, unable to stop herself, Consuela started to laugh. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said to Sarah, offering a hand to help her up. ‘I’m so sorry. I do hope you haven’t hurt yourself.’

‘Only my pride,’ Sarah grinned wryly, taking her hand.

‘Sarah, there’s not enough room in this dress to laugh,’ Danny protested.

‘No one’s forcing you to,’ Sarah answered loftily.

Consuela was biting her lips. ‘Are you sure you’re all right?’ she said. ‘These floors are so dangerous.’

‘I’m fine, thank you,’ Sarah replied, summoning her dignity as she straightened her dress. ‘And please, feel free to laugh, it’ll make me feel better.’

‘Come along,’ Consuela said, putting an arm around Sarah’s shoulder, ‘let’s get you a drink.’

Half an hour later, third cocktail in hand, Sarah managed to work her way across the wide, sweeping terrace that tripped in long, gently curved steps down to the pool, through the other guests, all of whom were as glamorous and probably as disgustingly rich as Consuela, to Louisa. ‘Consuela seems pretty taken with you,’ she said, stirring her drink and moving into the shade of a palm tree. ‘What were you talking about?’

‘I was just telling her what we all did in London and what we’ve been thinking about doing down here. In fact, she thinks she knows someone who might be able to help us.’

‘Really? Did she say who?’

‘I can’t remember his name. She said she’d give him a call for us. He’s in Nice, apparently.’

Sarah smiled as one of the gorgeous, dinner-suited boys took her near-empty glass and handed her another.

‘No thanks,’ Louisa told him. ‘I still haven’t finished this one. How many have you had?’ she whispered to Sarah as the boy moved on.

‘Who’s counting?’ Sarah replied airily, lifting her face towards the sky, drinking in the wonderful balmy air and gentle hum of conversation on the terrace. ‘I could live this life,’ she said. ‘I wouldn’t have any problem getting used to it.’

‘I wonder what Consuela’s story is,’ Louisa said.

‘Why don’t you get your notebook out and go and ask her?’ Sarah suggested.

‘Very funny. But aren’t you intrigued? I mean, to begin with, where’s her husband?’

‘Ah, now that I can answer,’ Sarah said. ‘The woman over there, Serena I think her name is, the one in the striped dress, she told me. Apparently Mr Santini died about three years ago.’

‘Oh. Who was he, did she say?’

‘He was Argentinian I think, the same as Consuela.’

‘What did he do before he died?’

‘She didn’t say.’

‘What did he die of?’

‘I don’t know; I didn’t ask.’

‘Doesn’t she have any other family?’

‘Louisa! How the heck am I supposed to know? You’re the writer, you’re the one with all the questions, you go and ask.’

‘All right, keep your hair on. Anyway, I think we’d better go and mingle again, don’t you?’

‘Mmm. Listen, before you go, have you managed to get out of Danny yet where she was last night?’

‘No. Have you?’

Sarah shook her head.

‘Well, you know Danny, she likes to have her little secrets,’ Louisa said, looking over to where Danny was laughing at something one of the women was saying to her.

‘When do you think we’re going to eat?’ Sarah muttered. ‘I’m starving.’

‘Then you’re in luck.’ Consuela laughed, coming up behind them. ‘I was just about to say shall we go inside?’

Dinner, or a little light supper, as Consuela referred to it, was served in the main dining room just off the entrance hall. All four of the tall french windows were opened onto the terrace, offering a splendid view of the pool, gardens and setting sun. Anti-mosquito spirals and candles flickered and smoked and vast chandeliers glowed softly overhead. Consuela was at the head of the beige lacquered table with Danny to her right and Olivia Woodrow to her left. Louisa was at the other end opposite Consuela with Serena Udell, the wife of a Belgian banker, one side and Caro Reuben of the Reuben cosmetic group the other. Sarah was in the middle between Serena Udell and a woman whose name she embarrassingly couldn’t remember.

The atmosphere was easy and relaxed, the women obviously knew each other well and Louisa found it quite fascinating to watch them. She’d never been in the company of such wealthy and celebrated people before, and their air of exclusivity and elitism was as spellbinding as their conversation. She almost laughed as she thought of what raptures Marcia Name-Drop would of be in were she here. Surprisingly, Louisa hadn’t detected even the slightest degree of snobbery amongst the women and their fondness for Consuela seemed quite touchingly real. It was as though, Louisa reflected curiously, they each harboured some kind of sadness for her, some kind of mutual compassion that Consuela neither accepted nor rejected. It was simply something that was there. What was it she was trying to say to herself about Consuela? she wondered. There was something about her that seemed as closed as an oyster and when she laughed it was as though the joy came from her lips, not her heart. When they’d spoken earlier Louisa had caught a sharpness in Consuela’s eyes, an edge that suggested some inner pain or maybe it was anger, or maybe she, Louisa, had too vivid an imagination.

‘She is very beautiful, no?’ Caro whispered in her throaty Spanish accent.

Louisa turned to her in surprise, then smiled as she realized Caro had noticed her watching Consuela. ‘Yes, very beautiful. Have you known her long?’

‘Si, many years. I knew her husband too, he was kind, kind man. He love her very much.’

‘How did he die?’ Louisa asked.

‘He had heart attack. Consuela, she was very sad after, she love him very much. Her life has never been same since. So much terrible things happen to her.’

‘What kind of things?’ Louisa couldn’t help asking.

‘Sssh,’ Caro said, putting a finger to her lips. ‘We no talk about them. Consuela, she no like it. She like to forget.’

‘Does she have any family?’

‘No, no family now. They all gone. She is alone. But she make her family here with the young ones. She love the young people. They love her too. They make her happy.’

Louisa looked back across the table to see Consuela laughing at something one of the boys, Frederico, was whispering in her ear. It wasn’t the first time this evening that Louisa had noticed the easy, informal relationship Consuela seemed to enjoy with her staff – there had been not even the remotest suggestion of anything like the salacious, Messalina-type mistress with her humble and lust-weary slaves scenario she, Danny and Sarah had conjured on their way here. She watched as Consuela turned her attention to Danny and shared Frederico’s joke and as the two of them laughed they unthinkingly joined hands.

Caro turned to talk to Rosalind who was sitting the other side of her and as Serena was listening intently to her neighbour Louisa picked up her lacy gold goblet and gazed thoughtfully out of the window. She could see a car coming up the drive and absent-mindedly tracked its progress until it came to a stop on the forecourt. The man who got out tossed his keys to Carlos who was waiting, then disappeared around the side of the house. He had been too far away for Louisa to get a good look at him, but his proprietorial air and the expensive car made her idly wonder who he might be.

She looked across the table to Sarah who was cheerfully encouraging one of the boys to refill her glass. Heaven only knew how much Sarah had had by now, but she certainly appeared to be keeping the women either side of her entertained.

Seeing that Caro was no longer talking to anyone, Louisa was on the point of turning back to her when she saw the man from the Mercedes standing in the hall talking to Frederico. She could see him only in profile, but it seemed clear that he was giving orders, making her wonder again who he might be. He moved slightly, bringing himself further into the light and Louisa felt a strange stillness suddenly wrap itself around her. Despite some kind of scar around his left eye he was quite staggeringly good looking, and the incredible strength that seemed to emanate from the hard muscles beneath his thin cotton shirt and the tightness of his jeans was having an extraordinary effect on her. She swallowed hard as though to push back the peculiar emotions that were rising in her, as light as air, more potent than the wine. He looked up, as though sensing he was being watched. Louisa started to look away, but found to her surprise that she didn’t. She couldn’t remember this ever happening to her before; she was responding to him in a way that was almost dizzying. As he looked back at her his dark eyes were questioning, as though wondering if he knew her, but more than that, as though he too was feeling something indefinable passing between them. He smiled and frowned, causing a sudden heat to sweep through her, leaving her almost breathless in its wake. When his eyes moved on around the table she continued to watch him, wondering how he was still managing to have such a disturbing effect on her. Then with a horrible sinking feeling she saw that he was looking at Danny and that Danny, her wine glass barely concealing her smile, was looking at him with sultry, provocative eyes. He raised an eyebrow with a drollness that made Louisa’s heart trip and Danny ran her tongue over her beautiful lips.

Suddenly realizing that all her guests had fallen silent Consuela turned to look over her shoulder. ‘Ah, Jake,’ she said. Then turning back again, ‘Ladies, I believe some of you have already met Jake Mallory.’

No one answered, but Louisa saw the way Rosalind and Caro exchanged glances. Jake looked briefly at Louisa and she almost gasped. He seemed almost angry, but the glance was so fleeting it was difficult to tell.

As he disappeared, taking the stairs two at a time, Louisa watched as Frederico appeared at Consuela’s side and laid a hand on her shoulder. Smiling, Consuela reached up to cover it with her own. ‘Please, everyone, if you will excuse me,’ she said, getting to her feet. ‘The evening is young and I am sure you would all like to take a stroll in the garden, perhaps relax in the bathhouse. As always, Frederico and the boys will be happy to entertain you.’

As she left the room both Danny and Sarah looked across to Louisa. Louisa shook her head, obviously as baffled as they were by the sudden chill that seemed to have permeated the room. Then Rosalind was pushing back her chair and standing up. The others followed suit and quite suddenly it was as though the last few minutes hadn’t happened as everyone returned to their light-hearted chatter, following Frederico out into the garden.

‘What on earth was all that about?’ Sarah whispered to Louisa as they walked onto the terrace.

‘God knows,’ Louisa answered.

‘Don’t ask me,’ Danny responded as Sarah turned to her. ‘But I can tell you something …’

‘Can I bring you anything, ladies?’ Frederico offered. ‘The others are taking champagne in the bathhouse, but if you prefer perhaps to take a swim in the pool, or maybe a drink on the terrace …’

‘I think,’ Danny said, raising her eyebrows challengingly at Sarah and Louisa, ‘we’ll take the champagne.’

As they strolled across the garden behind Frederico Louisa whispered. ‘What exactly is this bathhouse? I heard someone talking about it earlier.’

‘Apparently,’ Sarah answered, ‘so Mathilde, the woman who was sitting next to me, tells me, it’s something of a ritual on these girls’ nights of theirs to go and relax in the bathhouse after dinner.’

‘Yes, but what is it?’

‘That’s what we’re about to find out,’ Danny said, as Frederico opened the door to the building they had spotted through the trees on their way in.

‘Please relax and make yourselves at home, ladies,’ Frederico said, standing aside for them to pass. ‘If you need anything then you have only to ask.’

Louisa was the first to step inside and instantly stopped. Danny squeezed herself past, then she too stood still on the threshold.

‘My word,’ Sarah murmured, coming in behind them.

A gentle steam was rising from each of the circular and oval sunken baths, drifting lazily through the vivid green fronds of exotic palms and ferns, circling the white, delicately carved screens that partitioned the baths. Beside each bath was a white chaise-longue, and on several of these were the carefully folded clothes of the women who were already in the baths. With the exception of Frederico the boys who had waited table were all here, joined now by three or four others. None of them wore anything more than a leather pouch that hugged his genitals, and they all had a physique that belonged totally to this extraordinary Greco-Roman setting. Though the harps and lutes were purely ornamental, these were the instruments that were providing the soft music that seemed to blend with the subtle fragrances of the steam.

It was the most beautiful, most inviting film set Danny had ever seen and as though she had rehearsed it many times before she moved forward, leaving first one shoe, then the other, behind her. Dmitri, one of the boys who had waited table, seemed to appear from nowhere and waved an arm towards an unoccupied bath. Danny lifted her hair, turned her back to Dmitri and smiled dreamily as he lowered the zip. Peeling the dress from her body she stepped out of it, lowered her panties and handed them to Dmitri. Obediently he took them, laid them carefully on the chaise-longue, then took Danny’s hand as she stepped into the bath.

Like a camera following the action, Louisa’s eyes moved with the boy who passed them going to the bath where Olivia was resting her elbows on the side and gently kicking her legs. The boy handed her a glass of champagne, then lay down beside the bath, resting his head on one hand, ready to take the glass from her with the other.

Hearing laughter, Louisa looked to the next bath and saw Stephan sink beneath the water with Rosalind. When the two of them came up he was holding Rosalind about the waist and Rosalind let her head fall back, her hair and arms fanning out across the water as he kissed her breasts.

The whole thing was so hypnotic, so unbelievably sensual that when someone took her by the hand Louisa barely registered what was happening. She moved as Danny had moved, as though in a dream. Her inhibitions seemed to disperse in the steam as her dress fell to the floor, her panties brushed lightly over her legs and gentle hands took her, guiding her to the bath. As the warm, perfumed water enveloped her she rolled over and over, her movements as fluid as the gentle currents beneath her. Johann was sitting beside the bath, watching her, resting his weight on one arm. After a moment he got up, then returned with champagne. Louisa sipped it then handed it back. The aroma of bath oils was as intoxicating as the wine.

She swam some more and Johann increased the pressure of the jets. She pressed herself to them, closing her eyes as they gently pummelled and caressed her, turning languidly and luxuriously in the scented water, feeling the tension flow from her limbs and coherent thought unravel itself from her mind. Eventually she came to rest against the side of the bath where Johann put his hands on her shoulders and began gently to massage. She let her head fall forward, felt herself melting beneath the expert touch of his fingers.

Lifting Danny in his arms Dmitri carried her from the bath and laid her down at the edge. Danny’s eyes were closed, but her hand was stroking his thigh, the leather pouch was gone. He stood over her, gazing down at her as he reached for more champagne.

On the chaise-longue the other side of the screen, Olivia was sitting beside Antonio, her hair streaming down her back, his hands stroking her waist as his lips moved indolently over her neck and shoulders.

Rosalind, covered by a bathrobe, was leaving with Stephan through a door at the back of the room. Caro was stretched out on the floor, arms above her head moaning softly as her massage became ever more intimate. Serena was still in the bath, her elbows resting on the edge, her nipples tingling under the purposeful gaze of Michel’s sultry eyes.

Gradually, one by one, each of the couples got up and left through the door Rosalind had used. Some were in bathrobes, most were still naked. Louisa watched them, hardly aware of what she was seeing as Johann stroked her face, her shoulders and her breasts. She thought she saw Sarah go through the door, but couldn’t be sure because at that moment Johann pulled her head back and kissed her softly on the mouth. ‘Come,’ he said, taking her by the hand.

Louisa turned in the water and walked up the steps to the edge of the bath. Then she too disappeared through the door at the back of the room …

‘You waiting for someone?’

Not having heard anyone come up behind her Louisa started and turned round. She wasn’t surprised to see Jake Mallory standing at the top of the steps, the black Mercedes was still there on the forecourt and in some curious way it was as though she’d been expecting him.

As she got up from where she was sitting on a balustrade she was vaguely aware of the way her heart was pounding. The scent of the oils still lingered on her skin, but the memory of Johann’s hands now seemed as elusive as a dream. ‘I’m driving my friends home,’ she answered.

He was looking at her in that same questioning way he had earlier and Louisa could almost feel herself floating in the intensity of his dark eyes. Standing close to him like this was overwhelming her, he was so tall, so powerful in his body and the mesmerizing aura that surrounded him seemed almost to be drawing her in.

He looked at his watch and Louisa’s eyes were instantly drawn to the hard muscles and dark, leathery skin of his forearm. ‘You could be in for a long wait,’ he said. His American voice added such a potency to his masculinity that Louisa was almost dizzied by it.

‘It doesn’t matter,’ she said. ‘It’s a lovely night and I’m quite happy to sit here and look at the garden.’

He nodded, then cupping a hand around his jaw he said, ‘How about you leave the keys here for someone else to drive your friends and I’ll take you home?’ he said.

Louisa’s heart skipped a beat. ‘Oh, but you don’t have to do that,’ she protested.

‘I know I don’t have to,’ he said, a latent irony filling his eyes as he looked at her.

He was holding his hand out for the keys and still looking at him Louisa dropped them into his palm. Then she smiled. He had such a warmth about him, such a softness in his dark eyes that she could feel it stealing into her senses like the heady perfume of the night.

‘Where are you staying?’ he said.

‘Valanjou. Are you sure it isn’t out of your way?’

His eyebrows flickered. ‘It’s not out of my way,’ he said and she knew he was lying.

She watched him go back into the house then turned to walk to his car. She was aware of the turmoil going on inside her, but it felt distant, muted, like her sense of reality. How could she be feeling this way about someone she didn’t even know? Why did she get the feeling that when he looked at her he knew all she was thinking, all she was feeling because he was thinking and feeling it too? She wanted to laugh. It was crazy, irrational, wonderful and terrifying. She wanted him to come back, to smile at her like that again and tell her what was happening between them. She wanted to hear him say the words that she didn’t have the courage for. She wanted the reality of his touch, his voice, his presence, his incredible strength.

Hearing the front door close she turned back to see him coming towards her and almost blushed at her thoughts.

‘Good guess,’ he said, seeing her standing beside his car.

‘I saw you arrive,’ she told him, getting in as he opened the door for her.

‘Do you want that I put the roof up?’ he said, getting in the other side. ‘It’ll be colder once we start heading inland.’

‘No, it’s fine. I like it this way.’

Neither of them spoke then until he had turned the car around and they were gliding smoothly along the Cap towards Antibes.

‘So, you going to tell me your name?’ he said, glancing at her.

Louisa gave a cry of surprised laughter. ‘Of course. Louisa Kramer,’ she said. ‘And you’re Jake Mallory.’

It was his turn to look surprised.

‘Consuela introduced you earlier.’ she reminded him.

He nodded. ‘Sure,’ he said and reached out to turn on the CD. As a sleepy, soulful voice came from the speakers Louisa turned to look out at the passing cafés and glowing neon signs.

‘Have you been on the Riviera long?’ he asked.

‘Just over three weeks. We’re here for the entire summer though.’ She started to question why she’d told him that, then stopped. She’d only tie herself in knots if she went that route.

‘Are you vacationing or working?’ he said, lighting a cigarette.

‘A bit of both. What about you?’

‘I guess you could say I’m working,’ he answered, inhaling deeply, holding the smoke, then exhaling.

‘What do you do?’ she asked.

‘We build marinas. We’re thinking about starting up a project somewhere in the Med, that’s why I’m here.’

‘We?’

‘My father’s the boss. He’s back in the States right now.’

‘Where are you from in the States?’

‘California. Near San Diego. Do you know it?’

She shook her head. ‘I’ve never been to America.’

‘You from England?’

‘Somerset originally, I live in London now. Do you know London?’

‘Sure. I know it well.’ He cast a quick glance back over his shoulder then manoeuvred the car across a complicated junction, heading out of Antibes towards Grasse. Smoke from his cigarette wafted towards her and she knew from the pungent, sweet smell that it was marijuana.

She leaned back against the headrest and stretched out her legs. The temperature was starting to drop now, as he’d said it would, but she was enjoying the rush of wind through her hair and the humorous lilt of his voice as he went on to tell her more about his plans for a marina. After a while he fell silent, and as the music changed Louisa said, ‘Can I ask you a question?’

‘Sure.’

‘Do I remind you of someone you know?’

He shot her a quick look, his head still resting on one hand while the other rested lightly on the steering wheel. ‘I don’t think so,’ he answered. ‘Why do you ask?’

Louisa shrugged, feeling foolish for a moment and wishing she hadn’t got into this. ‘It was just that when you first saw me and again just now when we were in front of the house, well, I got the impression that you thought you knew me.’

She turned to look at him and saw that he was smiling.

‘What?’ she laughed.

He shook his head. ‘No, I don’t know you, Louisa Kramer,’ he said.

‘Oh.’ She was blushing and got the feeling from the way he looked over at her that he knew it.

‘So how did you come by Consuela?’ he asked, changing the subject as smoothly as the car changed gear.

Louisa explained about Danny’s jazz musician friend.

‘I see,’ he nodded. ‘And Consuela’s hospitality? Was it to your liking?’

He was laughing and, pursing her lips, Louisa turned to look out at the passing, night-blackened forests. ‘Do I have to answer that?’ she said.

‘Not if you don’t want to.’

‘I don’t,’ she said and turned to look at him, her luminous brown eyes brimming with laughter. ‘How do you know Consuela?’ she asked.

His face seemed to darken as he said, ‘Now that’s a long story. One we’ll save for another time.’

Louisa’s heart gave such a skip of joy at the ‘another time’ that she almost laughed. How could she be so hopelessly infatuated after such a ridiculously short time and what had got into her that she could be so cheerfully abandoning her promises not to get involved again? But he was different. She just knew it, she could sense it in every word he said, every gesture he made. There was a chemistry between them that was stronger and much more potent than she’d ever believed possible, and even if she were able she knew she wasn’t going to try to resist it.

‘You going to start directing me now?’ he said as they turned onto the road to Valanjou.

‘It’s just before you get to the village,’ she said. ‘I’ll tell you where to turn when we’re there. Where are you staying?’ A sudden gulf of embarrassment opened up inside her. Dear God, that sounded like a proposition!

‘St Tropez,’ he answered, his eyes on the road ahead.

So he really had come out of his way to bring her home, she was thinking as they sped past the turning to the villa.

‘Sorry,’ she said as he turned the car around.

‘No matter,’ he said. ‘Where now?’

As she directed him up the hill and in through the open gates she was acutely aware of the bewildering change in his mood. He seemed to be withdrawing from her, wanting only to be rid of her now.

‘Thank you,’ she said as he came to a stop in the full beam of the security lights.

‘You’re welcome,’ he said, turning to look at her.

‘Would you like to come in for coffee?’ she offered.

He turned to look at the house then shook his head. ‘No,’ he said.

The pang of disappointment was so crushing that she felt sure he must hear it in her voice as she said, ‘OK, well thank you again for the lift.’

He waited until she closed the door behind her then backed the car up to turn around.

‘Do you like to sail?’ he said, as she moved towards the house.

She turned back. ‘I don’t know, I’ve never tried.’

‘Would you like to try?’

She nodded. ‘Why not?’

‘I’ll call you.’

It wasn’t until the tail lights disappeared at the end of the drive that she realized she hadn’t given him her number. But no matter, she told herself as she opened the front door, he could always get it from Consuela.