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One Night In…


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      ‘Why should he care? He hasn’t been near the place in years. He wouldn’t care if Emiliani wanted to paint it purple and turn it into a vice den, but luckily, thanks to French inheritance law, it’s half mine, so whatever he says the sale can’t go ahead until I’ve signed the papers.’

      ‘Right,’ said Fliss decisively. ‘I’ll come with you if you like. You can introduce me to the delicious Signor Emiliani.’

      Anna paled at the thought. As far as Angelo Emiliani was concerned he’d already met Felicity Hanson-Brooks, but now wasn’t the time to confess about that. Not when Fliss had that scary look on her face.

      ‘You are going to sign them, aren’t you, Anna?’

      Anna’s gaze swept over the packed terrace. The setting sun gave the beautiful tanned faces of the Riviera crowd a flattering rosy glow. The noise of excited conversation was underlaid by a faint but insistent bass beat as the nightclubs and parties swung into life. Edgy and restless, Anna felt its feverish pulse echoed inside her.

      ‘Eventually. I—that is, GreenPlanet too—just want to try to find out what he has in mind for it before the sale is completed. Gavin—one of the GreenPlanet guys—has heard something about a connection with a pharmaceutical company, and apparently Emiliani is intending to cut down most of the pine forest for a landing strip, which of course we’re very concerned about. If that’s the case—’

      Fliss shook her glossy, well-groomed head. ‘You won’t stop him. The guy’s legendary for making things happen. It’s what he does. And hell, Anna, it’s what he does beautifully. He’ll make Belle-Eden into something wonderful.’

      Seeing the stricken look on Anna’s face, she realised instantly that she’d said the wrong thing. ‘It’s wonderful as it is,’ Anna snapped. ‘He can only ruin it. And the environment. All those trees—’

      Fliss was looking at her steadily, sadly. ‘Oh, Anna, that’s not really the issue here, is it? Look, honey, I know when you had to give up ballet it hit you hard. It was your life, and it’s left a big empty space which no one can blame you for trying to fill. But all this eco-stuff? Are you sure you really care about it enough to take on someone like Angelo Emiliani?’

      Leaning her elbows on the table, Anna dropped her head into her hands. Suddenly she felt very tired. In the darkness behind her fingers the image of Angelo Emiliani standing at the window in her grandmother’s room came back to her—tall, broad-shouldered and utterly sure of the power he wielded. His confidence was daunting.

      It was also horribly, irresistibly attractive.

      She felt Fliss’s hand on her arm. ‘Are you sure you’re not just grasping at something to fill that empty space, and maybe—just maybe—get back at your father?’

      Anna sat up abruptly and tugged out the band that held her hair back, letting it fall around her face with a flash of vivid pink.

      ‘Oh, God, Fliss. Maybe. I don’t know; I’m still so angry with him for not being honest with me for all those years. And with Mum, but that’s awful because she’s not here and I still miss her so much too. And that’s why I can’t just let go of the château. It’s my last … link with her. It meant everything to her. It was a part of her.’

      ‘I think you’re wrong. It’s just a place. She’d understand why it had to be sold. You meant everything to her. You were a part of her.’

      Anna got stiffly to her feet and Fliss almost gasped at the pain in her eyes, still raw after all these years. ‘Ah, but that’s the thing, isn’t it? I wasn’t.’ Clumsily she hitched her bag over her shoulder and pushed her chair in, then looked at Fliss with a bright, false smile. ‘Anyway, you’d better go and get ready for Saskia’s gruesome party.’

      ‘Why don’t you come?’ Fliss was standing up too now, but beneath the red glow cast over the table by the umbrella her face was lined with concern. ‘I know you hate her, but the party’s in the nightclub downstairs; it’ll be pitch dark and she’ll have invited so many people you probably won’t even see her.’

      Anna smiled ruefully and began making her way through the crowd back to the hotel lobby. ‘The GreenPlanet guys are having a party on the beach later on. I think I fit in better there somehow, don’t you?’

      ‘Who cares? You can fit in wherever you want to, Anna. Stop worrying about who you are or what you are and just relax.’ Fliss was almost having to run to keep up with her, but that just meant she talked louder, her exasperated voice rising above the general chatter. Anna clenched her teeth and walked faster.

      In the lobby she stopped, leaning against the trunk of a giant golden ornamental palm tree while she waited for Fliss to catch up. But a voice behind her caught her attention.

      She felt her throat constrict, her stomach tighten as she recognised that deep, smooth timbre with its faint Italian accent.

      She didn’t even have to look round to know where he was. She could tell simply from seeing the direction in which the eyes of every woman in the room were drawn. But still she couldn’t resist.

      He was leaning against one of the ornamental palm trees also, his mobile phone pressed to his ear, his broad shoulders stooped and his blond head bent. Utterly self-contained, he looked languid and somehow separate from the bustle of the busy hotel. Only the staccato tap of one long brown finger on the golden tree trunk hinted at the restless energy beneath the impassive exterior.

      She darted back out of sight behind her own palm tree, biting her lip, wishing as she used to when she was a little girl that she could click her heels like Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz and find herself back at home. If she left now he’d see her, and then he’d know that her story about staying in the hotel was a big lie. He’d probably find out sooner or later, but she wasn’t ready to give him the satisfaction yet.

      Fliss appeared and was just about to launch into reproach, but Anna pressed a finger to her lips. ‘Listen, I’ll come to the party,’ she hissed urgently as Fliss looked at her in bewilderment. ‘Can you lend me something to wear?’

      Fliss nodded.

      ‘Great. Thanks, Fliss. Now, we’re going to walk quickly across this lobby to the lifts without looking round. Do you understand?’

      Fliss nodded again, looking as if she thought there was a very real possibility that Anna was in fact seriously mentally disturbed. ‘Why?’

      ‘I’ll tell you later. Let’s go.’

      Slowly, with admirable cool, she left the safety of her palm tree and sauntered past him, managing to keep her gaze firmly fixed ahead. Fliss, however, was much less disciplined and by the time she stepped into the lift her eyes were virtually out on stalks.

      ‘It was him, wasn’t it? Angelo Emiliani? He is glorious. I wonder if he’s staying here.’ She giggled. ‘I wonder if I could find out his room number.’

      But Anna wasn’t listening. She was too busy thinking about the two words she’d just overheard Angelo Emiliani saying. Words that, it would seem, proved that GreenPlanet were on the right lines.

       Grafton-Tarrant.

      The name of one of the biggest pharmaceutical companies in the world.

      CHAPTER THREE

      ‘BETTER?’ asked Fliss with a grin as Anna emerged, pink-cheeked and wrapped in a towel, from her en suite bathroom.

      ‘Much. The facilities in the Belle-Eden pinewoods aren’t exactly five star,’ Anna replied, vigorously towelling her hair. ‘I’ve spent the last week hallucinating about hot baths and scented oils.’

      Fliss opened the mini-bar and took out a couple of tiny bottles of Chablis. ‘I’m so glad you decided to come tonight,’ she said, unscrewing the tops and handing one to Anna before raising hers and taking a swig. ‘Here’s