Avoiding Mr Right (8 page)

Pretend you haven’t seen it, Christina told herself. Pretend you are as naive as he clearly thinks you are. And get him away before he can see the Princess letting Stuart Define oil her back.

‘Hello,’ she said with what she hoped was the right touch of girlish enthusiasm.

He detected the false note at once, of course. His brows flew up. ‘Hi. Can I flatter myself you’re following me, or have you decided to jump ship?’

Christina chuckled. ‘Neither, just at the moment. I brought my employer’s children for swimming lessons.’

A curious expression crossed his face. ‘Your employer was childless the last time I looked.’ He paused before adding deliberately, ‘And unmarried.’

She stared. ‘The Princess is married to an Englishman called Richard Aston.’

‘Ah.’ His lids dropped but Christina caught a distinct glint in his eyes. ‘But your employer,’ he said softly, ‘is surely the Prince of Kholkhastan? Who, I understand, is still on his travels.’ It was not quite a question and there was a distinct edge to it.

Christina made a face. ‘Well, if you want to be pedantic…’

‘Accurate,’ he corrected her. ‘I like to be accurate.’

In the reports he filed for his paper? Christina wondered, and felt chilled. He had still not told her who he was and what he was doing here, after all.

She looked at him levelly. ‘About everything?’

He looked surprised. ‘Of course.’

‘Does that include yourself?’ she asked sweetly. He stiffened very slightly, but his voice was amused, even indifferent, when he asked, ‘Now, what do you mean by that?’

It was the ideal opportunity to confront him with his apparent duplicity. Christina did not know why she hesitated, unless it was because if he admitted what he was she would have to put an end to any future meetings out of loyalty to the Princess. And she did not want to.

She castigated herself furiously but it made no difference. He was high-handed, untrustworthy and much too sure of himself, yet she still wanted to see him again.

But she wasn’t going down without a fight. ‘Are you saying you’ve told me the truth about yourself?’ she said heatedly.

Luc did not even hesitate. ‘I have told you nothing inaccurate,’ he said smoothly.

Her blue eyes darted fire and she curbed her feelings with an effort. ‘That’s not exactly the same thing,’ Christina said with restraint.

He looked entertained. ‘That depends on your point of view. I didn’t think you were the sort of girl who would want a breakdown of my bank balance or my employment prospects.’

Her chin came up indignantly at that. ‘Of course I don’t.’

He smiled straight into her eyes. It was the dazzling smile again. Christina began to feel a little light-headed.

‘Then you know everything you need to make your mind up about me,’ he said softly.

She swallowed. It was like being hypnotised. She could not look away. She moistened her dry lips.

‘Do I?’ It was not much more than a croak.

‘Oh, yes.’

Luc did not touch her but from the way he was looking at her it did not make much difference. Christina began to feel that deep, inner trembling that had so alarmed her before. This time it did not feel alarming. If anything it was rather exhilarating.

‘Do you want me to prove it?’ It was a laughing challenge.

Christina swallowed again. ‘I don’t know how you could do that,’ she said in a tone that tried hard to be sensible.

‘That’s my problem. Will you give me the chance to try?’

This is crazy, she thought. I ought to tell him that I know his game. I ought to walk away right now. Instead she heard herself say breathlessly, ‘Yes.’

The dark eyes blazed. He held out an imperious hand. ‘Then come with me now.’

Christina felt as if she was in a dream, as if events would take their course no matter what she did. Slowly she put her hand into his.

He gave a soft laugh. To Christina it sounded triumphant. Even that made no difference, she found. If she had not been in her dream, it would have infuriated her, but all she wanted now was to go with him. He looked down at her, swinging their clasped hands gently.

‘Somewhere shady and private, I think,’ he murmured.

Involuntarily Christina shivered. Luc’s fingers tightened. He made her look at him. For all his insouciance, his eyes were smouldering.

Luc’s eyelids dropped. In the middle of her inner turbulence Christina was aware of only one, coherent thought:
He feels it too
.

It was alarming. She had never been so sensitive to another human being before, never felt that she could read someone else with absolute clarity—or that he could read her. It was not a comfortable feeling, but that awareness under his down-dropped lids made her feel breathlessly excited. He knew about her turmoil! He shared it!

But at once he was laughing again, the illusion of shared intensity gone. Even as she became aware of the convulsive grip of her fingers on his hand, the mask of amusement was veiling the dark eyes again.

He said softly, ‘I wonder if I could displace coffee? Do you know, I almost think I could?’

Christina was bewildered. ‘Coffee?’

‘Your greatest weakness,’ he reminded her.

‘Oh!’

She went scarlet, instantly and undisguisably. She could feel his eyes on her, dancing, warm as the Italian sunshine outside the hotel lobby. He looked amused and supremely confident.

But all Christina could feel was sudden cold. This was a practised charmer, she realised with an unwelcome shock. Why hadn’t she recognised the signs earlier? If he had confidence it was because it was earned. Women weren’t going to say no to a man who could turn their world upside down with a word, a touch. She felt helplessly angry with herself.

Luc didn’t notice. He was much too pleased with himself, Christina thought bitterly. He whisked her out through the front entrance of the hotel. He raised a hand to a uniformed man leaning against a car. The other man grinned when he saw them and, in response to a gesture from Luc, threw a set of keys across to him.

Luc caught them one-handed, not letting Christina go for a second. He raised the hand in acknowledgement. Christina watched the way the chauffeur strolled away. So it was not just women who did what Luc instructed, she thought wryly. It did not surprise her.

The keys were to a long, shiny limousine with darkened glass in the windows. It had to be one of the most luxurious cars in the car park. Christina frowned at it. Was it the car that had nosed past the end of the alley outside Costa’s? She did not think so but she could not be sure. Would a gossip columnist, no matter how successful, rate a chauffeur-driven Mercedes? It did not seem likely. And yet …

‘Expense account?’ she asked, carefully not allowing her suspicions to show.

Luc was not forthcoming. ‘Not exactly.’

He opened the passenger door. Christina stood her ground. ‘I don’t ride in stolen cars,’ she said firmly.

He chuckled. ‘Did it look as if I was stealing it from Michael?’

‘Michael?’

“The chauffeur. I—er—know him.’

‘Oh.’ Still she hesitated.

He pinched her chin. ‘Don’t look like that. He lets me drive the car sometimes, that’s all. I’ve never met such a girl for getting herself worked up over nothing.’

Christina removed his hand from her chin. ‘You must know him very well if he lets you borrow a car like this,’ she said drily.

Luc was calm. ‘I do know him very well.’

Christina was enlightened suddenly. Gossip columnists needed their informants, didn’t they? Perhaps the chauffeur was one of Luc’s. Another thought struck her. Perhaps Luc thought she was going to be one too.

‘Christina, it is hot out here,’ he said patiently. ‘I want to swim and so do you. Get in.’

Christina felt her dormant annoyance reassert itself at this high-handedness. It was a relief.

‘You can’t just take advantage of the man like that,’ she said with heat. ‘What happens to him if you… if you keep it too long or—or damage it or something?’

A curious expression invaded his eyes. His lips twitched. But all he said was, ‘Do you doubt my driving?’

‘That’s not the point. Though, some of the roads round here are pretty narrow—it wouldn’t be hard to scrape the paintwork:

‘That wouldn’t matter,’ he said indifferently.

Christina was indignant. ‘It might matter to Michael. If he’s lent it to you and you damage it, he’ll get into trouble.’

He gave her an odd smile, almost tender suddenly. ‘He won’t get into trouble.’

‘You can’t be sure of that—’ she began, but he stopped her by the simple expedient of putting his hand over her bare wrist. The words clogged in her throat suddenly. She swallowed.

‘Christina.’

She did not quite meet his eyes. ‘Yes?’

‘Let me worry about Michael. Get in.’

She did. He closed the door on her with a quiet thud and went round to the driver’s side. He slid behind the wheel, pushed back the driver’s seat to accommodate his long legs, and they were off.

Staring straight ahead, she said, ‘Before we go anywhere, I want to make it clear that I’m not going to tell you anything about the Princess or her family.’

She looked anywhere but his face. His hands on the wheel were strong and beautifully kept, she noted. She could feel his eyes on her as if he were touching her.

There was a sharp little silence. Then Luc said with an edge to his voice, ‘The last thing I want to do is waste our time together talking about Mrs Aston.’

Christina did risk a quick look at him then.

‘Another encounter out of space and time?’ she asked drily.

His mouth tilted in acknowledgement of the hit. ‘I was rather unrealistic there, I admit. No, this time I’ll do the thing properly.’

Christina did not ask what he meant. She was not sure she wanted to know. She sat very straight. ‘Just as long as you realise I am not going to talk about my employers—’

‘They are off the agenda for the rest of the day,’ Luc interrupted. She had the impression that he was laughing privately again. ‘It will be a relief, to be honest.’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ said Christina, annoyed.

‘No, you don’t. But you will.’

She bit her lip. When he said ‘a relief’, did he mean a rest from work? That most of his day was spent following the Princess in the line of duty? Oh, she
wished
he would tell her the truth. She sighed and fell silent.

Luc clearly knew the area better than she did. He took her to a beach further along the coast where you could take a car almost to the edge of the sand. And it was empty.

She opened the car door with an effort that surprised her. ‘It’s heavy,’ she said as he came round to help her.

He shrugged, not answering. Christina got out of the car and caught her breath, forgetting the unusual machine at once.

The scenery was spectacular. The little inlet had been scooped out of a larger bay, so that everywhere you looked there were hills covered with chestnut trees on the higher slopes and silvery olive trees as the ground approached the sea. In front of them, beyond the shimmer of water, a great grey cliff rose up to the sky. But on this side of the bay the slope was gentle and covered in bushes. Bees hummed, the rock-roses bloomed, the air was full of the scent of thyme.

‘It’s beautiful,’ Christina breathed.

Luc was watching her reaction.

‘Yes,’ he agreed. His mouth quirked. ‘Could I have uncovered another weakness?’

She flushed. ‘The sea looks so wonderful,’ she said self-excusingly.

‘Don’t apologise. I appreciate a woman who savours her weaknesses as much as you do.’

She knew that she was being teased. But there was nothing she could do about the flush that heated her cheeks, even though it amused him and the last thing she wanted to do was to amuse Luc Henri.

Christina regarded him in considerable dudgeon. She mistrusted him. There was a distinct possibility that underneath that electric attraction she might even dislike him. He had certainly made no attempt to be conciliating. And it was all too obvious that he was used to getting his way without question.

Yet, on the other hand, she reasoned, he was civilised as well as attractive. There was a spark—
something
between them which she had never felt before with anyone else. It made her feel thoroughly unsettled. She was not going to allow herself to get involved too deeply, of course, but … surely she owed it to herself to explore the sensation a little? Purely in the interests of self-knowledge, naturally—so she would recognise it and know how to deal with it if it ever happened again.

Her thoughts broke off there. Christina was too honest to lie to herself. Not allow herself to get too involved, indeed! Look how far she had come already, entirely contrary to normal habits or even her natural wariness of an evasive stranger!

Get real, she told herself. She shook her head ruefully and chuckled. Luc flicked up an interrogative eyebrow.

‘Nothing,’ she said to him, still laughing at herself. ‘Perhaps I need to put a brake on those weaknesses of mine, though.’

Luc grinned. ‘That would be a pity.’

She laughed aloud at that, stretching her arms to the cloudless sky. ‘I’m inclined to agree with you. Especially in this heavenly place. The sea is probably a magic mirror.’ She moved her shoulders in delight. ‘Let’s swim.’

Luc’s eyes were warm with appreciation. He entered into the spirit of her flight of fantasy, pretending amazement.

‘In a magic mirror?’ he mocked.

Christina sent him a look from under her lashes. ‘I bet it makes everyone who swims in it tell the truth,’ she taunted pleasurably.

Luc made a face. ‘Then I shall have my question ready,’ he threatened.

But Christina was too busy twining her hair up on top of her head to be intimidated. She skewered it into place with a couple of pins and untied her shirt to reveal the bikini beneath. Luc watched her with amusement.

‘You look as if you haven’t swum for weeks.’

‘Say days and you’d be close.’ Christina kicked off her shoes and thrust her toes into the sand with enthusiasm. ‘I got away yesterday but that was the first time since we left Athens.’