Naughty In Nice (17 page)

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Authors: Rhys Bowen

BOOK: Naughty In Nice
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“No, here in Nice the other day,” he said. “Remember you passed me on your bicycle and I called out to you and you smiled?”
“That wasn’t me,” I said.
“Must have been. Looked the spitting image of you. Even the smile was the same.”
“But I don’t own a bicycle.”
“Are you sure? It was on the road from our villa. I was walking my aunt’s dog, remember.”
“No, it really wasn’t me,” I said. “I’ve only been here a couple of days. I walked along the seafront once, but that was it.”
“Well, I’m dashed,” he said. “I could have sworn it was you. I don’t usually forget pretty girls, you know. Well, no matter. We’ve met now. Come and have a drink.”
I allowed him to steer me back toward the bar. Two young men had shown interest in me in the space of a few minutes. Perhaps things were looking up after all. As I looked around while Neville ordered drinks, I saw a face I knew well. Belinda had just come into the room, wearing emerald silk pajamas with a halter top that only just managed to cover the important parts. Her face broke into a smile, she gave a delighted scream and she rushed toward me, arms open.
“Darling, it is you! You came after all. I thought I saw you yesterday and I called out your name but you couldn’t have heard me because you didn’t stop. But now you’re here. How splendid. Where are you staying?”
“At my mother’s villa. It’s lovely—right on the cliffs overlooking the Med. And where are you? I asked at the Negresco but they said you hadn’t been there.”
Belinda made a face. “No, it was a little too pricey for me, given my current situation, so I had to opt for somewhere more humble. I’m at a little pension a couple of streets back from the Promenade.”
“So nobody’s invited you to stay yet? You haven’t tried the famous breaking-down routine?”
She frowned. “I tried it once and the gentleman in question was kind enough to send his man out to fix my car. It only worked in Transylvania because we were miles from the nearest habitation.”
“I’d invite you to stay with me, but Mummy has other guests.”
“It’s all right. I have my eye on a certain man. So far it’s been slow going but I’m quite determined he’s going to notice me.”
I moved closer to her. “Who is he? Do tell.”
“Well, he’s a Frenchman, darling, and absolutely gorgeous. And a marquis to boot.” She grabbed my arm. “Ooh, there he is now. Look, over there. Coming toward us. Finally he remembers who I am.”
And there was the Marquis de Ronchard, coming toward us with an expectant smile on his face. Of course, I thought. He’s seen Belinda. And I felt a small stab of disappointment.
“Ah, there you are, you little minx,” he said to me. “I have good news to report. Madame Chanel will be more than delighted to design a gown especially for you. What is more, it will be a present to thank you for participating in her fashion show.” He appeared to notice Belinda for the first time. “And who is your charming friend? Please introduce us.”
“My best friend from school days, Belinda Warburton-Stoke,” I said. “Belinda, may I present the Marquis de Ronchard.”
“Enchanté
, mademoiselle,” he said as he took her hand and kissed it. “Any friend of Lady Georgiana’s is a friend of mine.”
I then expected that he would whisk Belinda away to a tête-à-tête. Instead he put his arm around me. “What do you say—shall we go and play the tables now?”
“Oh, someone was actually getting me a drink,” I said. “That young man over there.”
Jean-Paul waved this away. “He can give the drink to your delightful friend instead. I intend to keep you for myself. Come, roulette is calling. I have a feeling that you will bring me good luck tonight.” He bowed to Belinda. “Mademoiselle, I hope you will excuse us, but I have been trying to lure this enchanting young lady away all evening and now I seize my chance. The young man who now approaches will be delighted to keep you entertained, I’m sure.”
And he whisked me away past an astonished Belinda. I tried not to grin like a schoolgirl. For once in my life the attractive man had chosen me over Belinda and over my mother. Maybe it was because of the Chanel outfit. Maybe clothes did make the woman after all!
Jean-Paul de Ronchard steered me through the crowd to a large gaming room. As we progressed he nodded and exchanged greetings with almost everyone we passed. I was still in a state of shock that I had beaten out Belinda and my mother. A small warning voice at the back of my brain whispered that this was a dangerous Frenchman, but at the moment I didn’t care. As we arrived at the roulette table a place was vacated and Jean-Paul steered me toward it. The man who was leaving, with a sizeable stack of chips, turned toward us and I saw it was Darcy.
He recognized me at the same moment and his eyes lit up. “Georgie—well, I’m damned. What are you doing here?”
“Good evening, Mr. O’Mara,” I said, fighting to keep my voice even.
He laughed, a trifle uneasily. “Why the sudden formality?”
“I believe it’s simpler if one keeps things formal. And since you ask, I’m wintering on the Riviera like you,” I said.
“Actually, I’m only here for a brief stay—on a spot of business,” he said.
“Oh, really. Business.” I stared at him coldly.
“Yes. Business.” He was frowning now. “Is something wrong?”
“With me? No, everything is perfect,” I said. “I’m having the time of my life.” I took Jean-Paul’s arm. “The marquis is going to teach me how to win at roulette,” I said. My gaze dropped to the stack of chips Darcy was holding. “I see you already know how. Congratulations. I hope you enjoy your winnings. Now if you’ll excuse us. I’m sure you have someone waiting for you—more than one person, actually.”
I eased into the seat at the table and Jean-Paul perched on the arm beside me. “Two hundred to start with,” he said to the croupier, throwing some notes across the table.
I could sense Darcy still hovering behind me.
“Georgiana—what’s the matter with you?” he asked. “Why are you acting like this?”
I looked back at him. “Maybe I’ve seen that there is no sense in pursuing a romance that can’t go anywhere,” I said. “Maybe I want a man who can devote himself to me and take care of me—and only me.”
Jean-Paul put a hand on my shoulder, then looked back at Darcy. “I think the young lady wishes you to leave now. You are distressing her.”
“Very well,” Darcy said. “If that’s what the young lady wants.” He held my gaze for a long moment, then pushed his way angrily through the crowd.
“You seem to be a very popular young woman,” Jean-Paul said. “So many suitors. I see that I shall have to fight a duel for you before long. I had better brush up on my fencing skills.”
I tried to force a bright smile, but inside I felt as if that knife was cutting me in pieces again. If he has another woman and a child, I told myself, he can never love you wholly. And I tried to shut out the image of those dark eyes filled with bewilderment and hurt.
“Now concentrate,” Jean-Paul said, “and I will show you how to become a rich woman. It is all a question of playing the transversal plain.” And he started to explain the odds of playing each line of three and his way of shortening those odds. He put a pile of chips down on the side of the board. The wheel spun and stopped. A number was called. More chips were pushed in Jean-Paul’s direction. The process was repeated. The pile of chips grew bigger.
“How old are you?” he asked.
“Twenty-two.”
“Such a lucky number,” he said and pushed a stack of chips onto that number.
The wheel spun, slowed and landed on twenty-two. This time the amount of chips was impressive. Jean-Paul pushed them over to me.
“What is your system for doing that?” I asked.
He laughed. “Sometimes a little luck doesn’t hurt either. Now I leave it to you.”
I started to play as he had instructed. And kept winning steadily. Not every time, but enough to make that pile of chips grow. Each time I won, I looked up at Jean-Paul and he smiled at me. He really had a wonderful smile. Now I found myself wondering how the evening might end. If Jean-Paul offered to drive me home and took me to his villa instead—well, that could only mean one thing. And was that what I really wanted?
“He has to settle down sometime,” Coco had said. He was rich and attractive and a marquis. What more did I want?
The question was settled for me by the arrival of my mother, followed by Coco and Vera. “There she is.” I heard my mother’s voice behind me. “And look how well she’s been doing too. You must have been coaching her, Jean-Paul.”
“On the contrary, she has a natural feel for the game,” Jean-Paul said. “A very talented young woman. I must thank you ladies for introducing us. Now I think my time in Nice will be most pleasant.”
“Well, we’ve come to take her away from your clutches,” Vera said. “Claire has sent for her car, so it’s time to say adieu.”
Jean-Paul took my hand. “I would be happy to drive her home later.”
“She’s had a very long and tiring day, haven’t you, my sweet?” my mother said, her eyebrows raised in warning.
Much as I was tempted to show my mother that I was no longer a little girl who needed to be protected, I realized this was true. I had had a long and tiring day. I was exhausted. I had once fallen asleep when Darcy tried to make love to me. I rather feared the same thing would happen if Jean-Paul tried to seduce me tonight. Not an auspicious start to a relationship.
I got to my feet. “I really must go home now, Jean-Paul. Thank you for a lovely evening.”
He kissed my hand. “Until we meet again,
ma chérie
,” he said. “And don’t forget to cash in those chips.”
“Oh, no, it was your money.”
He stacked the chips into a rack. “No, no. They are your winnings. Now, no arguing and off you go.”
As I headed for the cashier’s booth, while the other women went outside to meet the car, I found that I was standing next to Sir Toby Groper. The chips in his pile were of a much higher denomination than mine.
“A good evening, Sir Toby?” the cashier asked.
“Not bad. Made up a little for a damned run of bad luck,” he said. He turned and looked at me. “And I see the young lady hasn’t done badly for herself either.”
I realized I had to seize this moment. What I had seen of Sir Toby did not make getting to know him an attractive proposition. He had shown himself to be dangerous as well as aggressive. And I could well believe that he had walked out of Buckingham Palace with the queen’s snuffbox in his pocket. But I had already lost one of the queen’s prized possessions tonight. I owed it to her to fulfill my promise and recover another one. I plucked up courage. It was now or never. “Oh, just call it beginner’s luck,” I said, trying to sound keen and girlish. “It was my first time playing roulette. But you’re Sir Toby Groper, aren’t you? I’m staying at the villa next to yours. I look down with envy on your lovely swimming pool.”
“I keep it at eighty-four degrees,” he said. “Like a bath. You must come and swim in it sometime.”
“Really? Do you mean that? I say, thanks awfully,” I replied. “It’s very kind of you.”
“Not at all. A young lady like yourself will enhance the scene for me.” He paused, regarding me rather unpleasantly. “So you’re staying with the famous Claire Daniels, are you? What do you think of her? Everyone talks about her great sex appeal but I don’t see it myself. Looking her age, I’d say.” He leaned closer to me. “So tell me, is there still a man in the picture? That German fellow? Haven’t seen him around.”
“He’s at home in Germany, working,” I said, “but she remains devoted to him.”
“Can’t see why, myself,” he said. “The man is a boor, a bloody great boor. But I must say she has good taste in guests. What is your name, little lady?”
“My friends call me Georgie,” I replied coyly, I hoped. I didn’t think it was the occasion to reveal my full identity, since he’d just trashed my mother and stolen from my royal kin.
“Well, then, Miss Georgie, I hope you’ll come down and swim in my pool one day soon. And maybe we could go for a spin on my yacht.”
“Could we really? I adore yachts.” I wasn’t sure if I was overdoing it.
“Then it’s settled,” he said. “Come over and I’ll take you out on the yacht tomorrow. Come anytime you like. I’ll have the crew standing by.”
“That’s so kind of you, Sir Toby,” I said. “I’m really looking forward to it.”
“Not at all. Delighted to help out. See you tomorrow then.”
I gave myself a pat on the back as I left. I had positively had him eating out of my hand. Now if I could just find out if he had the queen’s snuffbox at the villa, it should be an easy enough matter to slip inside and pinch it when I went down for a swim. Suddenly I felt very daring and worldly. I had flirted with a dashing marquis. I had been invited out by two English boys and wangled an invitation from Sir Toby. All in all a good evening—apart from falling off a runway, losing the queen’s necklace and seeing Darcy.

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