Biarritz Passion: A French Summer Novel (35 page)

It’s almost a year since
Caroline and Edward first met. The course of true love seems to be running smoothly, they have overcome all obstacles and are en route for a blissful life together in France. Caroline has taken the plunge, gone for a career change, and is working hard to pass her exams. But it’s spring in southwest France, hard to concentrate on studying when the leaves are in bud, the air is sweet and her mind is on the romantic evening she has planned when Edward gets back from work. And then she gets a message from her friend Jill, in Edinburgh, and finds herself getting even more distracted...

And what about sister Annabel? She’s Mrs Courtenay now, living in Frankfurt. A wife, and also a mother. But Annabel is forever Annabel. Difficult, unpredictable, devious. She prefers to leave the nanny to look after Sweet Baby James while she enjoys herself with her rich friends. Julian is working hard at his new job and is over the moon about his baby son. But when a new friend joins their social circle, he starts to have suspicions about Annabel. The friend is called Claudio. He’s Italian, sexy and very very rich. Just how much can Julian take?

“There was a ping from Caroline’s laptop. Her mailbox showed a little envelope. She shouldn’t really allow herself to be distracted, should buckle down immediately to her essay. Maybe she needed another cup of coffee. A quick caffeine fix. She’d just check and see who was writing to her first, then she’d definitely get going. She clicked on the icon. It was a message from Jill. Temptation got the upper hand. She pulled her laptop closer and opened the mail.

‘Bonjour ch
ère amie, howya doin’? Hoping that you’re beavering away hard and are going to be top of the class when you graduate. Hoping you’re not letting yourself get too distracted by Drop Dead Ed. Scrub that. Hoping you are indeed letting yourself get distracted by His Gorgeousness. Let me dream! Am in dire need of distraction after my latest Desperate Encounter.

Annie and Ian set me
up with a bloke called Jonathan. Yes, another bloke. But...très promising, this one. Rich, a Porsche (yes!) and a pilot to boot. We had a nice titillating evening. He wiggled his eyebrows and promised me a ride in his plane. He eyed me up, I eyed him down, there was a naughty sexy goose-pimply moment under the dining table when he recovered the serviette I’d dropped (no, honestly I didn’t do it on purpose, ye olde dropped handkerchief trick, it genuinely slid off my silk-clad thigh) This is it, I thought my sexual exile in the desert is finally coming to an end! Will I remember how to do it?

We actually made it back to my place and I slipped into the bathroom to check the O’Toole body was primed and ready for action. I can tell you I was so wound up I nearly had an orgasm brushing my teeth. Those Oral B vibrations!
I flossed, gargled and sprayed so much Givenchy
round the bathroom I nearly choked
.
Finally, boobs alert, I made my grand entrance into The Bedchamber.

Would you believe it
, the bugger was out for the count! Snoring fit to raise the roof. Absolutely comatose. I cleared my throat. Clapped my hands. Did a fandango in my stilettos uttering bloodcurdling Spanish screams. No dice. The Flying Scotsman was beyond help. I had to spend the night on the sofa, with earplugs. In my own flat!

The
next day he made such a quick getaway he forgot his underpants. I mean how low can you sink? I suppose I could always hang them from my bedpost. Braveheart, huh.

Anyway enough of my woes. I can now do fifty bench press-ups and swim
seven miles. Very handy when I finally apply to enter a convent.

Tell me all your exciting news.

Kisses

Jill
’

Caroline was giggling so much she knew that work was out of the question for the afternoon. She wanted to get straight back to Jill, her friend in times of trouble, her rock through the dark days with Liam the ex. She had been bereft when Jill decided to move to Edinburgh, knowing she would sorely miss her scandalous sense of humour, her ‘I-can-do-it-you-can-do-it’ approach to life. She had even been on the point of trying to get a job in Edinburgh herself when she’d met Edward. Her relief was immense when the two of them, Edward and Jill, finally met at Caroline’s birthday back in October, and within minutes were enjoying a good laugh. Yes, they got on well, her man and her best friend. If only Jill could find someone like Edward, someone who could appreciate her ready wit and her ‘take on the world’ attitude while also seeing below the surface to a soft-centred, caring Jill whose greatest wish was to find the love of her life and have six children. And she was striking, a real head-turner, with her wild red Irish hair and creamy skin, her tall figure with its ample curves.

Caroline
wandered into the kitchen, poured another cup of coffee. She took a thoughtful sip, then put the cup down and stared at the wall.

What if...

‘
Dear Jill

As usual you had me falling about over your woes. Sorry sorry. Let’s face it though, you sound to have had a narrow escape with this Jonathan chap. If he didn’t even have the decency to face you the next morning he must be a wimp. Anyway, forget the convent application and turn your mind to other possibilities. I have had, my dear
, A THOUGHT. Edward and I are planning an escape to the sea in June, after my exams are all done with and I am hopefully a fully-fledged TEFL teacher. Apparently no-one will be using the villa, the family are going down there later in the summer. Now chère amie, you’ve seen the photos. You’ve done the gasps. Villa Julia! High on the cliff, looking out over the ocean! Its shimmering blue pool! Its elegant gardens! And...you’ve seen what I came back with last year. So...how are you fixed for holiday time? Any chance of you joining us in June??

OK,
I can hear your objections already, playing gooseberry, what if the family changes their minds, and omigod I’ve got nothing to wear at the pool!!!! Forget all that. The villa is so big that The Man and I can have as much privacy as we want for our hi-jinks, no one in the family is going to change their mind. AND I know a great little boutique in Biarritz that sells the most adorable bikinis. AND, for my last argument, Edward has a friend. Well more than one friend, but I’m thinking about someone in particular. ‘An unk,’ as cousin Claudie would say. ‘A very ansome unk.’ A hot sexy Basque by the name of Antoine, with jet black hair and flashing eyes and Hollywood teeth. (Yes, teeth) As for his body, modesty forbids me to go further.

Now, tell me you can resist? I think not. Check your remaining holidays and I’ll get dates fixed with Edward.

Much love

Cxxxx

PS A matchmaker,
moi? Jamais!’

About the author

Laurette Long was born in Halifax, Yorkshire,
and took her first breaths in Brontëland, a fact that might have influenced her penchant for romantic literature. She studied English at the University of Leicester before embarking on a teaching career which took her to the USA and France. She wrote a course book for advanced students, translated a work of literary criticism, but any serious forays into fiction writing took off when she traded city life for the countryside, moving from Toulouse to a hamlet of four houses. Essential inspirational factors include: a wonderful partner, great neighbours, numerous visits by friends and family, the prowling about of various animals (wild and domestic), a plethora of birds and a garden full of lavender.