Heaven Scent

Nursing a sore throat and taking a break from her home fragrance campaign, Leoni was sitting in the main salon drinking a cup of honey-infused tea with a slice of lemon in it.

She leant over the edge of a sofa and stared out of the window in bemusement watching the preparations for the Rose-Nymphea party getting underway, suppressing a laugh as she noticed her grandmother bossily clutching a clipboard and presiding over events as though she was the conductor in charge of a wayward orchestra. Case after case of wine was being delivered, as well as some crates of vintage champagne which Leoni happened to know came with a heart-stopping price tag.

It was like watching a gigantic wedding being organised, Leoni thought with a frown, wondering if Delphine would go to half as much trouble if her granddaughter was about to get married. Although, on reflection, she probably would, Leoni decided. If only to celebrate the fact that her granddaughter had finally managed to find a man to settle down with, just as all Ducasse women should. Leoni wished her grandmother wasn’t so bigoted.

Still, perhaps Jerard was the man who could change all that. Nice looking, hard working, caring – what more could she ask for? All right, so she hadn’t experienced any particular knee-trembling when they’d kissed and Jerard hadn’t exactly thrown her into bed and torn her clothes off, but so what? Lust was overrated. Leoni had allowed herself to be caught up in such silliness when she was younger – look at the way she had lusted after Ashton! And it had been such a waste of time too.

Leoni swallowed. No, at her age, she should be thinking about a stable, lasting relationship with plenty of shared interests; passion and desire were for childish crushes, not a mature, serious relationship. Feeling her mood plummet slightly at this sensible but rather uninspiring thought, Leoni ignored her feelings and checked her phone to see if Jerard had sent her any texts. He had. Short but sweet as always and mostly about the meeting he was attending or what time he would be back but it still made her smile that Jerard took the time to let her know his whereabouts.

She realised she hadn’t heard from Ashton for a while and sent him a quick text to check he’d been invited to the party. He sent her one back telling her he’d received his invite and that he’d probably be there. Unreasonably, Leoni felt disappointed that he didn’t seem to want to indulge in any general chat the way he usually did – she and Ashton always chatted about nonsense, he was the one man she could say anything to, however absurd it might sound.

Perhaps Ashton was busy too, Leoni thought, wondering why she seemed to be surrounded by men who thought more about business than relationships. Well, friendships, in Ashton’s case, but still. Wondering if he might bring a date to the party, Leoni couldn’t resist sending him a quick text about it. When he didn’t immediately come back, she sighed and headed outside for some air.

Discovering a group of men stringing up fairy lights and fixing unlit torches into the lawns nearby, she wondered why it was taking so many of them to sort out what seemed to be a relatively simple job. Then Leoni realised Cat was taking a swim in the pool. No wonder the men were so distracted, she thought tartly. Cat was all butterscotch hair and golden-hued skin and as she swam to the edge of the pool and smiled, Leoni realised with annoyance that the dark, sooty lashes framing the outrageously pretty aquamarine eyes were clearly natural.

‘I have far too much work to do,’ Leoni snapped in English, shoving her hands into the pockets of her sleek, black dress and omitting to mention that she had been doing nothing more useful than drinking tea for the last hour or so. Randomly wondering why she found it endearing that Ashton spoke French like a bumbling fool, Leoni reverted to her mother tongue grudgingly, knowing Cat preferred it. ‘Some of us have jobs, you know.’

Cat flushed. ‘Indeed.’ She leant on the edge of the pool, her expression glum. ‘I thought I had a new job sorted back home but it’s all on the back burner again. Christ, I hate not working. It’s not natural, is it?’

Leoni contemplated her. She’d forgotten Cat had a life back in England and she supposed that being stuck out here in France wasn’t exactly conducive to getting another job sorted out.

‘Er . . . for taking an extended honeymoon,’ Cat replied abruptly, not wanting to set off Leoni’s temper by talking about Olivier. Seeing Leoni staring back at her expectantly, she continued grudgingly. ‘I hadn’t had a holiday for years but for some reason, my boss took exception to me getting married and staying in France for a few more weeks.’ She lifted herself out of the water, revealing a toned body in a sky-blue bikini she had borrowed from Seraphina. It was slightly too small but it highlighted her curves perfectly.

Leoni suddenly envied Cat – not for being a widow at such a young age, naturally – but really, when was the last time she, Leoni, had gone for a swim or done something relaxing? Her work schedule was so tight, it simply didn’t allow for down time in the form of a calming swim or even a rejuvenating massage. Although, if Leoni was honest with herself, it was a self-imposed pressure but she didn’t know how else to live. Her life had always been about work; after a series of terrible dates in her youth and the realisation that nothing would ever happen between herself and Ashton, Leoni had devoted herself wholeheartedly to the family business. Until now, Leoni reminded herself. Now, she had Jerard.

What must it be like to look like Cat, she wondered. Even wrapped in an emerald-green towel with messed-up, wet hair, Cat looked sensational and Leoni couldn’t help envying her, despite her losses.

Leoni perched on the edge of a sun lounger, giving a nearby workman a pointed glance when she noticed he was fiddling with an already secured string of lights. He moved away, throwing a final look of longing in Cat’s direction.

About to offer her thoughts about it, Cat closed her mouth. She hadn’t a clue which members of the family she could trust around here. And even though she knew Leoni was frequently irked by Delphine’s interfering ways, Leoni’s loyalties would reside with her family when it came down to it.

‘Oh, nothing,’ she answered finally, her eyes downcast. ‘I’m getting carried away with conspiracy theories at the moment. Ignore me.’ Cat buried her head in the towel, rubbing her hair briskly. ‘It doesn’t matter, anyway; I still need to wait for my new passport.’

Leoni held her face up to the emerging sun, allowing herself to relax for a moment. She realised she must look incongruous reclining on a sun lounger in a tight dress and high heels but right now she suddenly couldn’t care less. Why did she push herself so hard? she wondered. Why did she put herself under so much pressure there was no time for fun?

Leoni suddenly felt unsure of herself and she found herself questioning why she didn’t have more free time to enjoy herself. Her girlfriends were in Rome on a hen break, no doubt eating deliciously fattening gelati and chatting up handsome Italian men. She had declined to join them, citing heavy work commitments. Yet in reality she could have done with a break and she would still have had plenty of time to get back for the Rose-Nymphea party at the weekend. Leoni sighed. She really did seem to have her life-work balance all wrong.

‘How’s your pitch going for the home fragrance line?’ Cat asked, emerging from under the towel. ‘I meant what I said about helping if you’d like me to.’ She sat down on the lounger nearest Leoni. ‘Actually, I’m dying to do something – anything, really. It’s beautiful here and I hate to admit that I’m bored, but I’m used to working, you know?’

Leoni nodded, hesitating. Why wasn’t she taking Cat up on her offer of help? She had far too much on her plate to manage it all single-handedly and Cat, out of everyone in the vicinity, was the best placed person to assist her with the pitch. She had probably delivered this kind of thing hundreds of times before and judging by the way she had handled herself in the family meeting, Cat would know just the right thing to say to win Guy over.

About to take her up on the offer, Leoni noticed Seraphina approaching them wearing a robe over a bright pink bikini with a straw hat, her platinum-blond hair tied in a side ponytail. She looked as though she belonged on the pages of the glossy fashion magazines she was so attached to. Feeling frumpy and invisible in her smart dress and heels, an aggravated Leoni got to her feet. Why were Cat and Seraphina swanning around in bikinis, anyway? It was only just spring! Leoni had never felt more undesirable or drab in her life and her mood turned frosty.

‘Thanks, but I don’t need your help,’ she said to Cat tersely, changing her mind in a heartbeat. ‘I just can’t concentrate because of this stupid party. Not with all the crashing and banging going on around me.’ She shot the lighting men a hostile glance but they were too busy checking out the doubly rewarding sight of Cat and Seraphina to notice. Leoni came to an important decision. After the party, she and Jerard were going to sleep together. It was about time they cemented their relationship and, for once, she was going to urge Jerard to put pleasure before business. As a bare minimum, Leoni decided, she wanted some sort of confirmation of his commitment to her. All of a sudden, it seemed important to know Jerard had real feelings for her. Not just romantic ones but sexual ones, too.

Cat sat up. ‘God, no, I haven’t. My friend Bella said she was going to send me some of my party dresses from storage but nothing’s turned up yet.’ Her eyes clouded over. ‘I totally forgot about it, to be honest.’

Cat looked pained. ‘I have no choice. Well, I could sit in my room during the party, I suppose,’ she added, sure Leoni would think that the best idea. ‘And without anything suitable to wear, I might do just that.’

‘Not that you wear them much these days,’ Leoni interjected sarcastically, feeling left out of the girly chatter. Missing Jerard and narked that Ashton hadn’t come back to her about his date for the party, she lashed out. ‘Did you really think that riding bareback around your college was the best way to get your father’s attention?’

Seraphina went pink. ‘I wasn’t trying to get his attention,’ she fired back, hurt. ‘I was trying to make a stand about Max being expelled, that’s all.’

Cat frowned. ‘That’s a bit unfair,’ she said heatedly, then held her hands up apologetically. ‘Sorry; obviously this is none of my business but I think we all know that Seraphina’s naked horse-riding was a protest. Besides, Guy does need to pay the twins some attention . . .’

Leoni’s lip curled. ‘Oh, I see, now you know more about my family than I do. Don’t start getting ideas above your station. You’re Olivier’s widow and nothing more, do you understand?’ Spinning round, she hurried off, her high heels savagely stabbing holes in the perfectly clipped lawn.

‘Because she’s like a cat on a hot tin roof and there’s no way she’d be like that if she was getting some.’ Seraphina flipped over on to her front, her expression rueful. ‘Trust me, I know. And no, I don’t mean me.’

Cat glanced at her worriedly. She was becoming increasingly concerned about Seraphina’s older boyfriend but she had no idea what to do about it. She had thought she might be able to approach Leoni and get her take on it but judging by Leoni’s aggressive reaction just now, she was the last person Cat should think of confiding in.

‘Yes, but that’s all in the past.’ Seraphina slid her sunglasses on. ‘Isn’t it about time you met someone else? Of course, I’ve always thought Ashton was madly in love with Leoni but now that she’s hooked up with Jerard, it might be time for a change …’

Cat put her head on the lounger guiltily, wondering what Seraphina would think if she knew about the kiss she and Xavier had shared. Would she be as friendly then? Cat had no idea and she supposed that it was irrelevant, in any case. The kiss was a regrettable moment of madness, never to be repeated, so it wasn’t worth mentioning and it was best forgotten.

So, forget it, Cat told herself brutally. Forget the kiss and forget about Xavier. He wasn’t worth her time and he was, most assuredly, not someone she should get close to in the future. Listening with only half an ear to Seraphina’s bright chatter, Cat wished she didn’t find it so hard to put Xavier and the passionate, rain-soaked kiss out of her mind.

Deeply engrossed in his formula, Xavier glanced up to see his father standing in the doorway. Looking utterly incredulous, he clearly hadn’t been expecting to find his son ensconced in his lab again.

Xavier felt mildly exasperated. His grandmother had visited him in the lab the day before, pretending to ask casual questions but really, she had been intent on finding out what he was up to. Informing her that he was creating a new fragrance using a formula he had almost perfected some years ago, she had gone into raptures of delight. When she learnt that the fragrance could possibly be launched in the summer if he could finalise the missing ingredient he was searching for, Xavier had been concerned his grandmother might keel over and have a heart attack in front of him, she was so ecstatic. Giving her carte blanche to look into a suitable ad campaign if she so desired, Xavier had finally managed to get rid of her so he could concentrate. And now his father was here, clearly wanting to know more.

Xavier sighed. Being back in his lab was big news as far as the family were concerned but he couldn’t help wishing everyone would leave him alone to get on with it.

Guy looked as pleased as punch. ‘A new fragrance? How wonderful.’ For a while, he wandered around the lab while Xavier worked, finding pleasure in the sight of Xavier’s chemistry and perfume books piled high and open at various pages. There were Post-it notes dotted along the surface of the counter and rows of labelled phials in storage boxes sat with their lids open expectantly. Xavier’s laptop was on with several internet pages on the go and his notepad was filled with distinctive scribbles.

Guy couldn’t believe it. This was a scene he hadn’t witnessed for more than two years now and he didn’t dare hope his elder son was finally back doing what he did best. He glanced at him. Xavier was sitting on a stool, his lab coat hanging open to reveal his shirt and jeans, his dark hair falling across his face in concentration. He looked up and Guy could see that his chocolate-brown eyes were alight with passion.

‘Something younger, perhaps? Nothing too funky that will alienate our older customers . . . in fact, I’m thinking of something with a vintage vibe. A very curvy bottle made of beautiful glass that will make customers want to pick it up as soon as they see it.’ He pulled a sketch out of his pocket – the one Cat had knocked up in Grasse. ‘Something like this.’

Xavier smiled. ‘I will. But I have a friend in Limoges who owns a glass factory. I thought he might be able to make us a prototype if I fax him the drawing.’

Guy looked thoughtful. ‘I wonder if Cat would have any ideas about a proper ad campaign? Leoni’s always going on about us being more commercial and I’m finally coming round to the idea.’

Xavier started. Cat hadn’t inspired him – had she? He’d like to say not but he couldn’t help thinking she had lit a flame under him somehow. Not once in the past two years had he felt galvanished into action the way he was now. Not once had any of the women he’d spent time with, girlfriends or one-night stands, shown a remote interest in fragrance or the business or why he no longer took any part in it.

Pacing restlessly around the stable area for something to do a few weeks later, Cat wasn’t best pleased to find Delphine limping towards her. Boredom was bad enough but she really wasn’t sure she could face the Spanish inquisition right now.

‘There you are,’ Delphine said with a bright smile. She was carrying a magazine in her free hand but she held it down by her side. ‘I’ve been looking for you.’

‘Really?’ Cat felt unnerved by the sight of Delphine’s teeth; most of the old lady’s smiles, the rare few that were directed at her, tended to be tight-lipped ones. ‘Listen, I know you must be keen for me to get home now. As soon as I sign those papers and my new passport makes an appearance, I’ll be on my way.’ She bit her lip, wondering why it seemed so hard to imagine being back in England. ‘I must get on with my life. Jobs, flats, you know. . .’ Cat’s voice petered out. She couldn’t exactly tell Delphine her desire to leave was mostly because of Xavier so she preferred to make it sound as though she had pressing issues to deal with in England. Although, obviously, a job and somewhere to live were critical issues in reality.

‘I’m sure you must have things to attend to.’ Delphine frowned. ‘In the meantime, I was wondering if you could help me with something.’ Gesturing to a nearby bench, she sat down and waited for Cat to join her. ‘Obviously I’m now aware that Xavier is creating a new fragrance.’

‘He is?’ Cat was jolted. She’d worked out that Xavier was back in his lab again but not that he was getting down to the serious business of making perfumes.

Delphine ignored it with an effort. ‘Of course, it’s the most wonderful news. The trip to Grasse clearly unlocked something for Xavier.’ Her hazel eyes met Cat’s briefly.

‘But that’s not what I wanted to discuss with you,’ Delphine said, ‘although it is related in a roundabout way.’ She flipped the magazine open. ‘When Xavier releases his new fragrance, I was wondering if we might need to be a bit more creative this time. Leoni has always wanted us to use someone more famous in our ads and I thought you might have an opinion on that.’

Cat was surprised. Why was Delphine asking for her opinion all of a sudden? She’d made it clear she found her suggestions irksome. ‘I think it always helps to use a well-known face for a campaign. Someone recognisable catches the eye, and if the person is aspirational – you know, someone others look up to and aspire to emulate – it can really give a fragrance the right vibe.’

Cat glanced at the photograph. The woman, whoever she was, was stunningly beautiful. With full, pouty lips and acres of blond hair, she was sexy with an incredible figure. She read the name – Angelique Bodart. It was only vaguely familiar to her but presumably the actress was very well known in France.

‘I guess . . .’ Cat wasn’t sure if she wanted to do anything for Delphine. At the same time, she was bored out of her brain. Leoni refused to accept her help on the home fragrance campaign and there was nothing else going on. ‘All right, I’ll do it.’

Delphine looked thrilled. ‘Thank you! I’d really appreciate that. I wonder, could you possibly keep this whole thing a secret? I wouldn’t want anyone to think I was interfering. Xavier, for one, is very anti such things.’

Delphine patted her hand in a disturbingly friendly way and got up. ‘I can’t thank you enough, really. I’ll leave the magazine in your room so you have the agent’s details and I’ll make sure Xavier provides you with a brief so you can sell the idea to Miss Bodart.’ She glanced over her shoulder and saw Xavier approaching. Putting a finger to her lips in a rather girlish fashion, Delphine gave Cat a wink. ‘Not a word, remember?’

Cat nodded distractedly as Delphine headed off. What did Xavier want? He had been avoiding her since their return from Grasse and she had decided it was probably for the best to keep out of his way so he couldn’t mess with her head again.

Xavier shot her a glance. Did she regret it? Did he? He pulled himself together. Of course he regretted it. However ravishing Cat was, she was Olivier’s widow. Inappropriateness aside, they were totally incompatible – apart from an apparent ability to irritate the hell out of each other, Xavier thought crossly.

‘The thing about your parents, about how you live your life to the full, out of tribute to them. It struck a chord with me. It’s how I see life, I guess. Not because anyone had died at that point, but because this,’ he gestured to his surroundings, ‘all of this makes me seem so unfairly privileged. I suppose I wanted to show the world that I didn’t live in a secure little bubble.’

Cat was stunned that he was opening up to her, even if it wasn’t deeply personal information he was offering. ‘That does make sense,’ she said slowly. So they did have something in common, after all. His honestly suddenly made him even more attractive and Cat struggled to focus on what he was saying.

‘I just thought we should clear the air,’ Xavier said again, looking straight into her eyes. How had they ended up sitting so close? he wondered. There was barely a breath between them, which meant that her full mouth was mere inches from his. Shocked at himself, Xavier realised he was longing to kiss her again. It was madness, but he knew he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want to feel her soft lips against his again, that he didn’t want to sink his hands into her wonderful hair or that he didn’t want to tear the clothes from her body and find out just how exquisite her skin was beneath them.

Cat, unable to tear her eyes from Xavier’s, felt herself trembling all over. What the hell was wrong with her? Xavier was the last person she should be attracted to – she didn’t even like him, for heaven’s sake! But his tanned nose, the smattering of golden freckles, the vulnerable look in those devastating eyes . . .

Xavier sat up sharply. Mentioning Olivier had been like hurling a bucket of cold water all over him. It was a stark reminder that he was having improper thoughts about his cousin’s widow – who was, quite frankly, one of the most exasperating women he’d ever met. One of the most desirable too, Xavier thought, running his eyes over her gorgeous body, but that was irrelevant.

‘Oh, me too,’ she replied in a saccharine tone. She had never felt more like slapping someone in her life. Watching him stride off like some bloody matinee idol, Cat wanted to let out a scream of frustration. Xavier had got under her skin and whatever she did, she couldn’t seem to stop her feelings for him spiralling out of control. After the party, she was definitely going back to England to start again.

Otherwise, Cat thought, as she closed her eyes and willed the image of Xavier’s sexy, soulful eyes out of her mind, she was in danger of losing her heart completely.

Sitting outside La Fleurie on a crumbling wall waiting for Vero and the boys to turn up, Max was beginning to feel agitated. It was Friday night, where the hell were they? Without fail, they would drive into the local villages on their motorbikes and visit some bars, whether they were at college or not. And they had always picked him up on the way. But tonight there was no sign of them and it was an hour after their usual barvisiting time.

Max lit a cigarette moodily. Bastards. How could they let him down like this? If they’d just been hanging around with him because he was the messed-up rich kid, he’d be gutted. It wasn’t that he missed Vero or the boys particularly, it was just that he hated the thought of being used. Vero was off her head most of the time anyway, Max reflected, and the boys were like a couple of willing lapdogs doing her dirty work for her. Just as they had always been the ones to score the drugs for the gang, Max half expected the boys to turn up on their bikes to snidely let him know Vero wouldn’t be putting in an appearance.

Feeling morose, he blew smoke into the air. The château was lit up like a Christmas tree as the party preparations reached fever pitch. Staff were running around like headless chickens and his grandmother was behaving like a mad dictator. She had made several of the girls cry and had even managed to reduce one of the men to tears with her demands.

Who cared about a stupid party? Max thought sulkily. Especially when it looked as if he wouldn’t have any of his friends there. He had invited them a few weeks ago and they had promised to be there but now, Max thought it extremely unlikely. Hearing a noise, he looked up hopefully but he was flooded with disappointment when he realised it was only Madeleine.

‘Hey,’ she said shyly. She sat down on the edge of the wall. Her long dark hair hung over one shoulder and she was wearing jeans and a long-sleeved striped T-shirt. ‘Are you waiting for Vero?’

Max shrugged. He noted that Madeleine was wearing Cool Water by Davidoff, a perfume he really approved of. It smelt of crab apple, woody citrus, amber and musk and it was one of his favourites. He wondered why he hadn’t noticed before that she wore it. Having grown up around fragrance, identifying perfumes and aftershaves and whatever they contained was something all the family did without thinking. He supposed he had never thought of Madeleine in that way, despite the brief kiss they had shared.

Max shoved his hands into his pockets, glad of someone to talk to. Apart from his brief chat with Xavier, he felt like a pariah. ‘Like you wouldn’t believe! He’s barely speaking to me and Seraphina – I’m not sure if he’s worked out who he’s angrier with yet.’

Against her better judgement, Madeleine giggled. ‘It was amazing when she cantered past on her horse. I wish I had the guts to do something like that.’ She cast her eyes to the ground. ‘I’m way too strait-laced. And my father really would disown me. He thinks I’m going to be the first female president.’

‘Better not be seen talking to a delinquent like me, then,’ Max said abruptly, turning to head back inside. He didn’t notice her face falling. He thought of something and glanced over his shoulder. ‘Fancy coming to a party tomorrow night? It’s formal and there will probably be loads of boring people there but . . .’

So maybe he had one person he could rely on, Max thought, sloping back up to the château. In spite of his mood over Vero and the boys, he couldn’t help hoping Madeleine would turn up tomorrow.

Feeling utterly confused about Xavier, Cat was on her way to meet Angelique Bodart. Having borrowed a sporty little red Peugeot from Guy, Cat was heading towards a building near Mougins where, conveniently, Angelique was doing some shots for a French magazine.

Cat wondered what Xavier was thinking. Did he feel even the tiniest iota of what she was feeling right now? He was so hard to read but at one point sitting there on the bench, she had been certain he wanted to kiss her again. Hating herself for admitting it, Cat knew she had been dying for him to do it too.

She pulled to a halt at the address she’d been given, knowing she needed to stop thinking about Xavier. Inside the building, she was directed to the ‘penthouse studio’ and she found herself inside what looked like a very expensive boudoir. Decked out in pinks and reds, it featured a large bed with a scarlet throw across it and several plump fluffy cushions, mirrored walls and a dressing table with toiletries and make-up all over it. Loud music blared out of a stereo that was out of shot and a crowd of male and female staff were presiding over the photo shoot.

Wondering if all of them were legitimately part of the photographic team, Cat gasped as she caught sight of Angelique lying on the big squashy bed on her front, her blond hair reaching down her back almost to the cleft of her perfect, peachy backside. Completely naked save for a pair of black patent slingbacks and a velvet ribbon round her throat, Angelique looked like the archetypal sex kitten. Her eyes were made up with smoky greys and blues and her lips were red and glossy. It was an unsubtle image but it worked.

Angelique flipped on to her back and gave them all an eyeful of her luscious breasts. The photographs Cat had seen in magazines didn’t do Angelique justice; in the flesh, she was jaw-droppingly gorgeous. As she coiled one leg across her body and flung her arms over her head, Cat heard an audible gasp from the crew.

‘Angelique said to let you sit here.’ Celine gestured to a chair near the front and nearly let the silk robe slither out of her fingers. ‘Oops. Thanks. This shoot, it’s a “crazed lover” scenario, in case you’re wondering about all the mess. All about some lover leaving her for another man.’ Celine frowned. ‘I’m not sure I could see that happening to Angelique but I suppose it’s just acting.’ She pointed at a man in a suit who was watching everything meticulously and prowling around the set restlessly. ‘That’s Mason, Angelique’s agent.’

Cat took the seat, disturbed to find her eyes level with Angelique’s groin. She glanced at Mason. He was a big man with a heavy jaw and a hooked nose and he was wearing a pinstriped suit that made him look more like a mafia boss than an agent.

‘What sort of magazine is this shoot for?’ she asked, doing her best to tear her eyes away as Angelique crawled up on to all fours and put her perfect butt in the air.

Celine’s eyes darted to Angelique. She didn’t want to get caught gossiping but she loved talking about her famous boss. ‘Just one of the usual men’s magazines. She always has to strip off – it’s what they want.’

‘She seems very . . . confident,’ Cat said, raising her eyebrows as Angelique contorted herself into a position a stripper would baulk at. She couldn’t believe it was a shoot for a men’s magazine; it looked more like a top-shelf effort.

‘I know.’ Celine nodded, looking slightly embarrassed. ‘I thought I’d get used to all this but it’s a bit overwhelming. She’s so famous, you know. Me and Mason are worried she’s having a mini breakdown at the moment,’ she confided in a low voice.

‘She’s usually so business minded,’ Celine went on absentmindedly. ‘None of us can understand why she’s turned this Hollywood film down. She actually had the role without auditioning for it – how often does that happen?’ Celine tutted. ‘I practically had my bag packed and my ticket to L.A. booked but then she did an about-turn and said she didn’t want to do it.’

Suddenly remembering she was speaking to a perfect stranger, Celine went bright red. ‘Oh my God, you can’t tell anyone about that!’ She jumped as Angelique stood up and snapped her fingers for her robe.

‘Cat Hayes? I speak a little English . . . oh, you speak French? Wonderful. I only know a few swear words in English anyway.’ Angelique smiled charmingly and took a seat. ‘My agent tells me you have some sort of offer for me.’ Before she had finished the sentence, Mason was at her elbow.

Cat felt apprehensive. She’d offered actresses or models roles in ad campaigns a few times before but not often enough to feel particularly confident about it. It occurred to her that perhaps Delphine had set her up, hoping she would mess the whole deal up and the family would think she had done it on purpose, but Cat put the thought aside firmly. She had to stop being paranoid about Delphine.

Telling herself it was just like pitching a brand to a client in her advertising firm, Cat cleared her throat. ‘I do. It’s in the early stages but the Ducasse-Fleurie perfume brand is hoping to launch a new fragrance this summer. The family would very much like you to front the campaign.’ She followed up with a few more details, handing some glossy brochures over and chatting about the company.

Close up, Angelique was even more breathaking. The honey-coloured robe complemented her colouring perfectly and even when she removed the red lip gloss and heavy foundation with a cloth Celine handed her, she was still stunning. It was difficult to pinpoint her age but Cat guessed Angelique might be only a few years older than she was – in her late twenties perhaps, early thirties at the most. As Cat watched her, she couldn’t help putting the concept together in her mind – Angelique in exquisite, expensive underwear, being showered with purple, velvety petals. Her expression would be innocent yet knowing . . .

‘I’m familiar with the brand,’ Angelique informed her silkily, handing the dirty make-up cloth to Celine without even looking at her. Celine hovered for a moment before resigning herself to her redundant status and leaving. ‘And I like it. I would certainly consider—’

Mason looked fit to burst. ‘I’m your agent, it’s what I’m meant to do.’ He fixed his beady eyes on Cat. ‘And if you’re going to do this campaign, it had better be worth it. It’s only a fucking perfume, you know.’

Cat guessed he was struggling to understand why Angelique had turned down a role in Hollywood, especially before she knew what was involved in this offer. He would be thinking of the hefty percentage he had just lost and Cat couldn’t blame him.

Why would she turn down such an amazing offer? Cat wondered again. Angelique would be perfect for a big budget film across the pond. She had no qualms about taking her clothes off, she was utterly self-composed and it didn’t take an expert to spot that she had an ambitious streak.

Maybe Angelique saw it as selling herself out, Cat thought. Perhaps she preferred to be a very big fish in a small pond as opposed to the other way round. And she was French – perhaps the idea of living in La-la-land with all its craziness and image obsession wasn’t for her.

Cat did so, using everything she could remember from her trip to Grasse with Xavier. She described the concept in great detail and glossed over the fact that she wasn’t sure what the scent would smell like. She hyped up all the positive angles she could, highlighting Ducasse-Fleurie’s achievements over the past few years and making the most of Xavier’s world-renowned talent as a senteur to make the bait as tempting as possible.

‘It sounds wonderful,’ Angelique purred, while Mason looked ready to explode. ‘We can work out the terms and conditions later on but for now, you can take my word for it that I would love to be involved. It sounds exactly like the sort of high-profile, well-respected project I’m going to become known for in the future.’

Cat stood up, pleased. She shook Angelique’s hand. ‘Just to warn you, you might need to come down to the family home at some point. There’s talk of shooting the campaign there. It’s really beautiful,’ she added, in case Angelique needed convincing.’

‘I’m sure you’re right.’ Angelique smiled, omitting to mention that she was more than familiar with La Fleurie. ‘I have a flat in Provence so I will move back there for a while until I’m needed.’ In her heels, she was slightly taller than Cat and her breasts were spilling out of the robe. She didn’t bother to close it as she leant over and kissed both of Cat’s cheeks.

Cat was enveloped in an overpowering waft of jasmine. She remembered Xavier saying he detested the smell and Cat found herself agreeing with him. It was such a strong, pungent aroma and it had a cloying aftertaste. Dry down, she corrected herself, remembering what Xavier had taught her. She frowned, wishing she could stop thinking about him at every turn.

‘I don’t care!’ Angelique’s blue eyes flashed coldly at him. ‘I am doing the Ducasse-Fleurie ad campaign and there is nothing you can do about it. Fuck the Hollywood film. They want me naked, just like everyone else. I told you, I want to be a brand. I want the world to know who I am, not just Hollywood.’

‘Good.’ Angelique tightened her robe. ‘Pack my bags, Celine, but don’t bother about yours. I haven’t decided if I need you in the south of France yet.’