CHAPTER EIGHT

She didn’t like asking, and perhaps it wouldn’t get her anywhere at all, but she had to try.

‘Tony, what is it between you and Matt?’ It was more firmly implanted in her mind than ever that Matt had intended to keep her out the night before to get even with Tony.

‘What do you mean?’

Tony was pretending not to know what she was getting at, but he looked uneasy.

‘I’m referring to this constant struggle for one-upmanship. I know you’re not going to like my saying this, and I apologize in advance, but sometimes I get the feeling that you’re jealous of Matt.’

He said sulkily, ‘If I am, I’ve every right to be. I’d be his partner, instead of being just another name on the payroll, if he hadn’t cheated my father.’

It was so preposterous that she almost laughed out loud. ‘Matt cheated your father!’ Her hostility didn’t blind her to the fact that Matt wouldn’t cheat anyone.

‘It started off as a partnership.’

‘Yes, I remember that. Hunter & Talbot. I’ve wondered about the Talbot.’

‘That was my father. The business was going through a rocky period, and Matt used the famous persuasive Hunter charm to buy my father out. With his luck, straight away things started to pick up, and look how big he’s coining it in now. I shouldn’t be working for a paycheck. By rights I should be getting an equal share of the proceeds.’

Zoe frowned. She knew all about the persuasive Hunter charm. She was a strong character, but it had got to her on several occasions. She reviewed her opinion because of this. Could there be an element of truth in Tony’s claim? She recalled what Matt had said when the question of Tony’s working for him had cropped up once. ‘I fulfill my obligation by employing him,’ had been the words he’d used. She had thought that the word ‘obligation’ was a strange choice at the time. And she knew there was no love lost between Nerissa, Tony’s mother, and Matt. Was the grudge because he had cheated her late husband?

It wasn’t an easy day. Zoe spent it avoiding Matt and making amends to Tony for not returning in time for dinner the previous evening, staying by his side and giving him her full attention. Tony mellowed under her pampering, and the situation more or less returned to the way it had been.

The next morning the breakfast things hadn’t had time to be cleared from the table on the terrace where Hannah, Tony, and Zoe still lingered over coffee when Camille put in an appearance.

She was wearing red again—and why not? The color which Zoe was never quite happy in because it clashed with her hair was the perfect foil for Camille’s exotic coloring, her olive skin and ebony hair that had a sheen of silky blueness in the play of morning sunlight.

Zoe still didn’t feel at ease with the younger girl, who was accepted at Les Charmettes as one of the family. Camille’s smile was pleasant enough on the surface, but there was an underlying antagonism which, Zoe realized not without a little shame, was reciprocated.

The moment Matt sauntered up to join them, Camille’s dainty hand slid into the crook of his arm in a proprietary way while at the same time she darted an outrageously flirtatious glance at Tony.

Matt’s manner toward Camille was one of indulgence. She amused him, and he might not be averse to her carrying that amusement a stage further, if it hadn’t progressed to that already. A swift inspection of her fiancé’s face revealed to Zoe that Tony also found Camille’s luscious curves very easy on the eye.

Camille looked cajolingly up at Matt. ‘Chéri, as I was having breakfast, I thought how nice it would be to spend the day in the company of an entertaining and handsome man, and you immediately came to mind.’

‘Camille, how would you like to come out with me for the day?’ he obliged amiably.

‘Why, Matt,’ she said, fluttering her eyelashes in an absurd parody of surprise. ‘How kind of you to ask me. I’d love to.’

‘What a delightfully incorrigible child,’ Hannah observed fondly.

‘Oh, delightfully,’ Zoe said, the acid in her tone almost burning her lips.

Zoe was too busy trying to take herself in hand to notice the narrowing of Hannah’s glance as she suggested, ‘Why don’t you young people make up a foursome?’

‘Zoe?’ Matt queried, looking directly into her eyes, a contact she had managed to avoid since being caught in the rain with him.

She shrugged to convey indifference. ‘Why not?’ The truth was, a day out would be a pleasant diversion. Even though Matt represented all the danger of a raging fire, she couldn’t get burned with Tony and Camille there, ‘If Tony feels up to it,’ she qualified.

‘It will be wonderful to get my rear onto a car seat. I feel as though it’s been permanently glued to a lounger.’

‘That’s your fault,’ Hannah said, with more than a little asperity in her tone. ‘Nobody’s expecting you to run a marathon, but . . .’

‘I couldn’t run if someone offered me a million.’

‘No. But you could get about more than you have if you made the effort.’

Zoe had tried that one herself to rouse Tony from his apathy, but all she’d got in return was, ‘You don’t know what it’s like.’ Hannah didn’t get that in so many words, but his look said as much.

* * *

Camille sat in the front of the car with Matt. Zoe squeezed into a corner of the back; because of his leg Tony took up most of the rear seat. They hadn’t discussed where to go and they were already mobile when Matt said, ‘Any preference?’

That was difficult. Obviously Tony wasn’t up to doing a lot of walking. Camille was the first to answer. Giggling, she said, ‘How do you fancy swapping one lounger for another, Tony?’

‘Fine by me. Where did you have it in mind for this lounger to be positioned?’ Tony asked.

‘St. Trop.’

‘That will definitely score on the view from Nan’s garden,’ was Tony’s laughing reply.

‘I’ve been known to be part of that view,’ Camille said, pouting at him.

‘You’ll still be part of my view, won’t you?’ Tony quipped back. ‘Perhaps more so.’

Zoe missed the implication of that in her consternation at not having had the common sense to equip herself with a swimsuit underneath her sundress.

‘Does St. Tropez meet with your approval, Zoe?’ Matt asked.

‘Apart from the fact that I’m not wearing a swimsuit, yes. I didn’t think.’

‘No problem. St. Tropez is famous for a lot of things, including its fashionable shops. We can buy whatever we need. Swimwear, beach towels, tanning lotion.’

They went by way of the pretty coastal road with beautiful views of the sea. As they approached St. Tropez the buildup of traffic reduced their speed to a crawl.

‘I think it would be best to drop Tony and Camille off, to save Tony the exertion of unnecessary walking. You, of course, will come with me, Zoe. I’ll find somewhere to park the car, and then we’ll go in search of swimwear and such,’ Matt said.

It didn’t suit Zoe, but it was the sensible course and she could raise no feasible objection.

Having dropped off Camille and Tony, complete with his crutches, Matt found a parking space without too much difficulty, beating other fuming motorists because of his knowledge of the area. He then led Zoe directly to a smart boutique that would supply all their needs.

‘Do you want a one-piece or a two-piece suit?’ he asked.

Having already spotted some of the topless love-lies on the beach, Zoe wondered stupidly if he meant a top piece and a bottom piece or just a bottom piece. If she’d thought about it she would have said a one-piece to make her sunbathing intentions firmly known, because he was obviously not asking if she wanted half a bikini. At least, she didn’t think he was! ‘A two-piece,’ she said firmly, bringing a smile to Matt’s lips.

‘What color? Black to match your mood, or green to match your jealousy?’

‘I am not in a black mood, and what have I got to be jealous about?’

He shrugged, his mocking smile staying resolutely in place. ‘I could give you a third choice.’

‘And what would that be?’

‘Blue to match your eyes.’

‘You choose for me.’

‘That’s an intriguing offer. Dare you abide by my choice?’

Now that she came to think about it, that had been very reckless of her. She had already taken a look round at the selection on display; some were so scanty that they were practically indecent and would hardly cover the essentials. Camille might be happy to expose herself, but Zoe most certainly wasn’t. But his eyes were challenging her to back down, and for that reason she wouldn’t.

‘Of course,’ she said, her chin jutting out in defiance.

He went over to a counter, sorted about for a few moments, then returned with his selection. ‘Here you are. Blue to match your eyes. The fitting room is through there. Try it on. If it fits all right and meets with your approval, leave it on.’

To her relief there seemed to be more to this bikini than there was to the ones on display. In the privacy of the fitting room she soon found out that it was a perfect fit. It was the briefest she had ever worn, but what would have been regarded as daring by home standards would seem quite modest here.

She came out smiling, received a bag from the assistant for the purpose of carrying away the garments she had removed, then turned to Matt. ‘Thank you,’ she said.

He knew exactly what she was thanking him for. ‘That’s all right. I’ll admit, I was tempted to teach you a lesson. But I couldn’t go through with it.’

‘It was kind of you to spare my blushes. I’m grateful.’

‘You’ve got it all wrong. If just the two of us had been going to a secluded beach I happen to know about I wouldn’t have been quite so generous with you. I couldn’t go through with it because I would have been jealous as hell of what all the other guys would see.’ He filled her arms with beach towels and a bag which she presumed contained suntan lotion. ‘Hang on to these for a moment. I found myself in the same predicament as you.’ With that he went off to the men’s changing rooms, dangling a pair of black swimming trunks in his fingers.

They returned to find that Tony and Camille had hired beach mattresses and were stretched out on theirs. In the garden at Les Charmettes Tony had sunbathed with just his shirt off. His plaster cast looked incongruous with his swimming trunks, even though he had matched the color. Zoe’s first glimpse of Camille made her swallow. Both her sundress and the top half of her bikini lay on the edge of her mattress. She was on her stomach, but how long before she flipped over onto her back?

Zoe slid out of her sundress and lay down on her stomach, cradling her head on her folded arms, cautiously shading the nape of her neck with her sunhat. She gasped as a trickle of cold suntan lotion hit her back. She didn’t need to open her eyes to know that the hands smoothing it over her belonged to Matt.

The strap of her bikini top must have got in his way. Deftly he unhooked it. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll fasten it again. What I said earlier still goes,’ he said softly, so only she could hear.

His fingers worked in a slow circular motion that relaxed her and was pleasant in a drowsily sensual way. His hands moved up to mold the muscles of her shoulders, then down past her shoulder blades, working the lotion well into her waist and down the small of her back to the edge of her bikini briefs.

Despite the quivering of alerted nerve ends and the quickening of her breath, she felt herself slipping deeper into a dreamy kind of languor. The soporific effect melted her bones. There was a pause in the proceedings as he tipped more lotion into his hands. It was transferred to the tops of her arms and the vulnerable area of her thighs. The time he spent was split equally, it was just that one region was rather more electrically aware of the long caressing strokes than the other.

‘Turn over and I’ll do your front.’

In her mindless stupor she started to obey. She had forgotten, as it seemed that he had, that the fastener between her shoulder blades had been unhooked. As she eased up, half turning to face him, her breasts lifted free from the bikini cups. His slit eyes rested on her for a warm moment, the stirring of his lashes betraying the intensity of his look. She was down again in an instant. He reached over, and a lightning-quick flick of his fingers brought her top securely back into place. It was all accomplished so quickly that neither of the other two could have seen, even if they’d been alert and watching. Tony’s and Camille’s eyes were closed, however, and they were so still they could have been asleep.

‘I can do my front myself,’ Zoe croaked, scrambling to sit up, then cupping her hands and holding them out to receive some of the lotion.

‘As you like.’ Matt moved away and dropped lithely by Camille’s side, giving her a nudge that made her lashes flutter up. ‘Your turn now.’

Zoe closed her eyes and turned away from Camille’s appreciative purrs and ecstatic moans. If the question arose as to which of them did Camille’s front, Zoe didn’t hear it.

The sun beat down in golden waves. It was beginning to penetrate Zoe’s mind that she’d sun-bathed long enough, with her fair skin it would be suicidal not to go in search of some shade, when Matt said, ‘Anyone for a swim?’

Tony, who had stirred from his somnolence by this time, said, ‘Much as I’d love to, obviously I can’t.’

‘I’m coming,’ Zoe announced. It would get rid of the oily lotion. It wouldn’t take long for her bikini to dry, and then she could cover up with her sundress.

‘What about you, Camille?’

‘No, I don’t think so, Matt.’

‘That’s strange. I’ve never known you not to join in for a swim. You’re usually the first one nattering to go in. Aren’t you feeling well?’

‘To tell you the truth, I don’t feel too good.’

‘Perhaps you’ve been in the sun too long,’ Zoe said. Camille had seemed in top form when they came out, but she didn’t look at all well now.

Camille sent her a scathing look. ‘Don’t be stupid. With my coloring I can stay out in the sun all day without effect. My stomach feels a bit queasy, that’s all.’

‘It’s true,’ Tony vouched foster. ‘Camille laps the sun up. It must have been something you ate, Camille.’

‘Yes, it must have been. Enjoy your swim, you two. Don’t bother about me.’

Laughing at Camille’s petulance, giving no warning of what he was going to do, Matt turned, scooped Zoe up, and, ignoring her protests, ran into the water with her, not letting her go until it swirled almost to his waist, then throwing her in.

‘You beast!’ she gasped on coming up, but laughter spilled out of her eyes.

‘Come on,’ he invited, striking out.

For a short distance she kept alongside him, but his stroke was too powerful for her and she found herself trailing behind, admiring the effortless way he cut through the water.

Tired, exhilarated, she floated on her back, drifting, staring up at the incredibly blue sky. Strong hands pulled her down again. She screamed, loving it, coming up sputtering but laughing. She caught him off balance and then it was her turn to push him under. He retaliated, grabbing her legs and winding them round his waist so that she was riding him. Their eyes were level. For a moment she drowned in the inscrutable depths of his. She was still laughing, but her laugh was shaky. She wriggled free; the lightness of the mood returned, and when they did run out of the water they were as uninhibited as children.

‘That was fantastic,’ she said, twisting her hair to wring out the excess water, then patting herself with the beach towel before flinging it down on her mattress and falling on top of it to complete the drying process.

They had a late lunch in a harbor café. Her activities in the water had made Zoe ravenous. She started off with truffle pâté on a crisp green salad bed, then salmon mousse, followed by kidneys in wine, and she finished off with mountain raspberries and whipped cream.

As they came out of the café Matt said, ‘I suppose you want to walk that off?’

Zoe looked at Tony, anticipating an objection to being left alone again. He didn’t look too pleased, but he said, ‘Off you go. I’ll find a perch by the harbor and wait for you. You can collect me when you’re ready.’

Camille said that she would stay and keep Tony company. She had merely picked at her food, and Zoe guessed that she still didn’t feel well and wasn’t up to any excess effort.

Matt and Zoe set off to walk through the old town. It was a joy to wander through, and Zoe found it easier to imagine that it had been built up from a poor fishing village to its present lush prosperity than she had on the fashionable beach front.

When she mentioned this Matt nodded in agreement. ‘It’s hard to believe St. Tropez hasn’t always been the haunt of film stars and tycoons. Before that it was a painters’ haven. Originally it was a Greek trading port. But do you know how it got its name?’

‘No.’

‘Nero executed the Christian Torpetius at Pisa and put the corpse in a boat with a cock and a dog to feed on it. The legend goes that the boat drifted ashore months later, with the body untouched. The fishermen promptly named their collection of huts St. Torpes.’

‘That’s fascinating,’ she said.

They seemed to have reached some unspoken truce. It was therefore all the more surprising when Matt suddenly rounded on her and said, ‘When are you going to end this farce of an engagement? The pretense you’re keeping up is ridiculous.’

‘It’s neither ridiculous nor a pretense,’ she said, bristling. ‘It’s a proper engagement.’

‘You’ll never marry him.’

‘I will,’ she insisted, stalking on ahead. But whether she meant it as firmly as it sounded, or was merely saying it to protect herself from Matt out of force of habit, she didn’t know.

She tried to block out the other alternative that was rising up in her mind: that she was making a big noise to incite Matt’s angry reaction. That she wanted him to shout her down on this score. Denying that thought was as hopeless as trying to shut it out. Thoughts like that didn’t knock and politely ask if they could come in, they were in before you knew it.

Why was she tearing herself apart? She’d been hurt and humiliated once. Matt had left her without a goodbye. He’d do the same again. She had to be mad. Sun-crazed.

A splintering pain shot across her forehead. Perhaps that was it . . . Perhaps she’d had too much sun after all. The sinking feeling in her stomach wiped out that speculation. It would be nice to think there was a physical reason for the way she felt, but she knew that her condition was emotional and that she would be fooling herself if she believed otherwise.

They made a silent return to pick up the car. Zoe held her tongue on the torment of her thoughts; Matt’s face was closed to her, its only animation the cynicism in his eyes. It seemed a million years since they’d cast their differences aside and played happily together, their moods as buoyant as the water they’d ducked each other in.

It was a relief to collect Camille and Tony. Whatever had been ailing Camille was completely gone. Both her health and her spirits had been restored to sparkling form; on the way back it was Camille’s bright chatter that shifted the emphasis from the strain that existed between Zoe and Matt and went a long way to lightening the atmosphere.

They stopped for a meal just short of Les Pins, and this time the roles were reversed. It was Zoe who picked at her food and Camille who made up for her lack of lunch and ate ravenously. Matt dropped Zoe and Tony off at Les Charmettes and then took Camille home.

Even though it was late, Zoe and Tony didn’t hurry to bed. Hannah was still up, and they stayed chatting over a nightcap for quite a long while. Zoe couldn’t remember what they talked about. Her headache was still banging against her temples, robbing her of concentration. Matt still hadn’t returned by the time Zoe did eventually escape to bed.