Mediterranean Nights: The Mistress Purchase / The Demetrios Virgin / Marco's Convenient Wife

Since leaving Grasse earlier he had spent far more time than he wanted to admit thinking about her! And not just because of the problems she was causing him with the takeover. Not just? Be honest, he derided himself Not at all! No, the reason she had gained so much control inside his head was quite simply because she, or rather his reaction to her, his awareness of her, his desire for her, had assumed far too much control of his senses!

To put it bluntly, he ached for her in a way that had not just caught him off guard, but was also actively making him…

Making him what? Making him want to rewind life right back to that second when he had first seen her in Cannes, so that he could do what every male instinct his body was packed with had urged him to do then? Pick her up in his arms, get her the hell out of there and take her somewhere where….

It was at times like this that his Greek blood was most at odds with his Australian upbringing, Leon acknowledged wryly. Right now, hormonally he was quite definitely all Greek male, but cerebrally—thank heaven—a part of him remained an Aussie businessman! And that was the part of him he needed most to focus on!

He had certainly enjoyed focusing on Sadie, he mused. He had never liked over-thin women, and Sadie was just right—her waist so tiny he could span it with his hands, her hips sexily curved, her legs long… long enough to wrap right around him when he… and her breasts. Ah, her breasts… Just the thought of touching them, holding them, brushing his lips against their tender quivering crests and then…

Leon gave a low groan and closed his eyes. Bad mistake, since immediately a vision of Sadie formed behind his shuttered eyelids. He must be going crazy—either that or he was well on his way to falling head over heels in love with her.

In love? In lust, more like! Anyway, falling in love right now was a complication he definitely did not need in his life. Unlike Sadie. He needed her all right. In his life. In his arms. In his bed…

Raoul had told him that she was going back to England and Leon told himself that he ought to be glad!

His grandmother would certainly have enjoyed seeing him in the state of turmoil he was in right now!

Thinking of his grandmother made Leon frown again. He had been just fourteen when she died. A sensitive age, which was no doubt why—

His mobile phone rang, breaking his train of thought.

Was she doing the right thing? Sadie asked herself soberly as she parked her car in the hotel car park and made her way to her room.

She wished passionately that her grandmother were here for her to talk to. Would she approve of what she was doing? The wave of euphoria which had carried her back to Grasse had receded now, leaving her feeling shaky and insecure. What if she couldn’t create a saleable perfume? And, even if she did, what made her think that her scent could succeed where so many others had failed? They lived in a different world now from the one in which the classic scents had been created. Consumers were more demanding, more fickle—but if she could succeed… if she could create a new scent that would take the world by storm and…

She was beginning to feel light-headed with excitement again. What if, between them, she and Leon…?

Between them? She and Leon? A fresh surge of excitement gripped her, but this one had nothing whatsoever to do with the creation of a new scent!

Why didn’t she give in and admit it to herself? She had been attracted to Leon the first moment she had seen him.

Attracted to him! To describe her feelings as mere attraction was like trying to compare cologne with full-strength perfume.

Her heart started to thud, her palms suddenly becoming damp. Why was it that the look in one particular man’s eyes could make a woman feel so…? Hot-cheeked, Sadie acknowledged that she did not want to explore just what it was that Leon made her feel right now! At least not in public.

‘I just hope that I’m doing the right thing.’

Sadie’s voice wobbled a little, and she held her mobile just that little bit tighter as she voiced her uncertainty to her friend.

On the other end of the line Mary responded bracingly.

‘Well, it certainly sounds to me as though you are. Sometimes you just have to follow your instincts and your heart, Sadie, no matter how risky it might seem.’

Her heart! That organ started to thump erratically at the thought that she had betrayed herself so easily to her friend. How could Mary have guessed from what she had told her about her emergent feelings for Leon? She had barely mentioned him!

‘Your kind of work isn’t merely a career choice, Sadie, it’s a vocation, and when a person has your kind of talent—well, then they need to be able to fulfil the need it gives them and follow the direction of their heart, rather than make cerebral decisions!’

Her work! Mary was talking about her work, not about Leon!

‘It is a once in a lifetime opportunity,’ Sadie agreed excitedly. ‘But—’

‘No more buts,’ Mary told her firmly. ‘You go for it, girl!’

She had spent longer talking to her friend on the telephone than she had realised, Sadie recognised ten minutes after she had ended the call, when the grumbling protest of her stomach made her look at her watch. It was almost eight o’clock and she hadn’t eaten since breakfast!

Showering quickly, Sadie redressed in an elegant taupe silk dress she had spotted in an expensive boutique’s sale in Paris, slipping her bare feet into a pair of kitten-heeled sandals and gathering up a cream cashmere wrap just in case the evening air proved chilly.

It was only a five-minute walk from the rooms to the main hotel, and as Sadie picked her way along the prettily illuminated path and down the several flights of stone steps she paused to look out across the valley, to where the lights of the town twinkled in the distance.

As she crossed the car park en route for the hotel foyer she noticed that it was busy with cars, but thought no more about it, smiling briefly at the receptionist as she made her way across the tiled floor and then walked down the stairs and through the lower level foyer into the cocktail bar.

It had bemused her a little the first time she had walked into this bar, to recognise that it was styled very much in the manner of a gracious English country house—even to the extent of having a log-burning fire—but this hotel was not occupied merely in the summer, she acknowledged, but all the year round by those who wished to use its spa facilities. The cocktail bar was certainly very comfortable and welcoming.

The lower foyer, through which she had just walked, had elegant French windows which opened out onto a large paved patio area where guests could sit at wrought-iron tables and look out across the valley. Tonight the patio was crowded with several large groups of diners, Sadie noticed as she headed for the entrance to the dining room and the maître d’.

‘A table for dinner? Madame, I am sorry but that is not possible. We are fully booked,’ he told her when she asked for a table.

Sadie stared at him.

‘But I am a hotel resident,’ she protested. Delicious food smells from the meal being served to a table of diners just inside the doorway were informing her just how very hungry she really was. Her stomach was actually growling.

The maître d’ looked sorrowful and spread his hands.

‘I am so sorry, but I think you will have seen in your room that hotel guests are requested to make prior reservations for dinner. We are a Michelin-starred restaurant, and many people drive out from Cannes to eat here.’

Sadie’s heart was sinking deeper with every word he said. It was true that there was a notice in her room warning guests about the limited availability of tables for dinner.

‘There are several very good restaurants in the old town of Mougins,’ the maître d’ informed her helpfully.

‘It is only a short walk from here, and a very pretty place. It gets many tourists.’

Sadie sighed. Whilst she didn’t mind eating alone in a hotel restaurant, she was loath to do so further afield. She had planned to visit the old town of Mougins, but during the daytime.

Ruefully she acknowledged that she ought to have pre-booked her dinner reservation, and realized that she was now going to have to return to her room and order a meal there, from Room Service. She had just thanked the maître d’ and was making her way through the now extremely busy bar, when she suddenly saw Leon on the other side of the room.

He was walking towards her and had obviously seen her. Immediately her face lit up, a giddy sensation, a heady mixture of thrilling excitement, shock, and pleasure, flooding her body with breathless delight.

‘Leon!’ she exclaimed as he came towards her. ‘What are you doing here?’

His calm, ‘Actually, I’m staying here,’ took her thrilled delight down a few notches, and she had to control her expression to stop herself from betraying her disappointment. He had not come looking for her, as she had originally deliriously believed.

‘And you?’ he queried. ‘Are you dining here?’

He looked and sounded so coolly remote that her heart banged uncomfortably against her chest wall whilst she battled against the feeling of disappointment that was filling her.

The reality of him was so different from the fantasies she had been building inside her head all afternoon. He looked so austere, so disapproving and remote, so very much the man she remembered from their first encounter—right down to the immaculate shirt and suit.

The happiness and expectation that had fuelled her day was leaking out of her, and she was miserably conscious of the way in which Leon was looking over her shoulder and beyond her, as though in search of someone! Another woman perhaps? Did he have a dinner date?