Guy looked at it. ‘You didn’t draw this. Who did?’
‘Cat,’ Xavier admitted, not meeting his father’s eyes. ‘What do you think?’
‘It’s good. Very good. But I’d rather you focused on the fragrance itself, if I’m honest.’
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.’
‘She knows her stuff.’ Xavier shrugged, not wanting to seem too keen on Cat. ‘I guess you could always ask her.’
‘Well, if Cat’s inspired you to be back in here in any way, then I’m grateful,’ Guy said, wondering why Xavier looked so uncomfortable.
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.
Xavier put down his notepad. He was sick and tired of skirting round what had happened in Grasse. He needed to speak to Cat and he needed to do it soon.
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.
Or the French inquisition, Cat told herself glumly. She couldn’t believe another few weeks had passed with no sign of a new passport or the legal papers.
‘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.
‘Yes. I spoke to him about it briefly yesterday and he hinted that we might be able to release something new in the summer.’
Cat was taken aback. ‘Wow. You must be delighted about that,’ she said, unable to keep the sarcasm out of her voice.
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.
Cat stared at her, irritation creeping up inside her. Was that what the trip had been about?
‘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.’
‘Excellent.’ Delphine looked pleased. ‘This is the person I have in mind.’ She showed the magazine to Cat and waited.
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.
‘She has an agent,’ Delphine said. ‘But I wouldn’t have the first idea how to go about contacting him.’
Cat looked up. ‘Are you saying you’d like me to do it?’
‘Could you?’ Delphine’s eyes lit up. ‘That would be perfect, and at least it would give you something to do until everything else is sorted out.’
‘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.’
Xavier was anti most things, Cat thought acerbically. ‘Of course. Leave it with me and I won’t breathe a word to anyone.’
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.
He gestured to the bench. ‘May I?’
‘Help yourself.’
‘Sorry we haven’t spoken since Grasse,’ Xavier started, staring at her intently.
Mesmerised by his chocolate-brown eyes, Cat shrugged, but she couldn’t break his gaze.
‘I promise I wasn’t avoiding you . . . at least, maybe I was.’ Xavier rubbed his chin. ‘I’m back in my lab, I needed to concentrate.’
‘So I hear.’ Cat told him what Delphine had said, carefully avoiding saying anything about the potential ad campaign.
‘I thought perhaps we should clear the air,’ Xavier said, sounding absurdly rational. ‘You know, after what happened.’
Cat gave him a half-smile. ‘What, that terrible kiss that we both regret so much?’
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.
‘Yes, that. I can only apologise. I’m not sure what came over me,’ he said, wondering why his words sounded so empty.
Cat allowed her gaze to linger on Xavier’s mouth. He really was attractive but, that aside, they had nothing in common.
Xavier frowned, leaning back on the bench. ‘It was . . . there was something you said over dinner.’
‘What did I say?’
‘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 . . .
‘You’re not like Olivier,’ she murmured without thinking.
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.
‘Of course I’m not,’ he snapped, getting to his feet. ‘How many times do I have to tell you that?’
Affronted, Cat blinked. She hadn’t meant to say the thing about Olivier out loud but, on reflection, wasn’t it a compliment to Xavier? God, he was touchy!
‘I have work to do,’ Xavier told her curtly. ‘I’m so glad we had this chat.’
‘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.
‘I don’t think Vero’s coming,’ Madeleine said apologetically. ‘I heard her and the boys saying something about going to Marseilles for the weekend.’
Max swore and threw his cigarette on the ground.
‘Sorry.’ Madeleine winced. ‘I just thought you should know.’
‘It’s not your fault.’ Max pushed his dark hair out of his eyes. ‘I thought they might not want to know me now but I was hoping I was wrong.’
‘Sorry. So, how are you? Is your dad furious?’
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.’