Chris

‘You’re being extremely good about it,’ Calum said, his lean features breaking into a warm smile. ‘But you must let us make it up to you. Perhaps we could——’

But Francesca broke in, ‘I know; you must join us for dinner tonight!’

Calum looked momentarily taken aback, but recovered quickly and smiled. ‘Of course. Won’t you join us for dinner, Miss Dean?’

It was what Tiffany had hoped and longed for, but she immediately protested, ‘Oh, but I couldn’t. I——’

‘But you must,’ Francesca broke in. ‘We need someone to liven us up. Chris, come and persuade Tiffany to stay,’ she commanded imperiously.

But Chris said, ‘It will be dull with all the family there.’

‘That’s why she must come. Tiffany, please say you will.’

Pushing Chris’s obvious reluctance out of her mind, Tiffany laughed and indicated the bathrobe. ‘But how can I possibly?’

‘Oh, that’s easily solved. I’ll ring a boutique in the town and tell them to bring up a selection of gowns for you to choose from. They should be here before too long,’ Francesca said with all the confidence of a girl who only had to lift a phone to always get what she wanted. ‘Now, you don’t have any excuse, so please say that you’ll stay.’

But Tiffany looked at Calum for reassurance, saying, ‘I’m sure you really don’t want an outsider at a family party.’

She got what she wanted. ‘There will be others there beside ourselves. And you’ll be very welcome, Miss Dean.’

Giving him one of her best smiles, she said, ‘Well, if you’re sure…’

‘Quite sure. It will be a great pleasure.’

‘Then I’d love to stay. But only——’ she gave him a

sparkling, playful look ‘—if you’ll promise to call me Tiffany and not Miss Dean.’ She imitated his deep voice, making Calum laugh.

‘It’s a bargain. I’ll go and tell the caterer to change the table setting.’

‘And I’ll ring the boutique.’ Calum went out and Francesca went over to the phone, but glanced at Tiffany and Chris and then said, ‘The number is in my address book upstairs. Will you excuse me while I go and make the call?’ And she hurried away.

Not wanting to be left alone with Chris, Tiffany said, ‘I’ll wait upstairs.’ She went to follow Francesca out of the room, but got caught up in the skirts of the robe and had to hitch it up.

As she made for the door, Chris said, ‘You’re wasting your time, Tiffany.’

Pretending not to understand, she said over her shoulder, ‘See you later.’

But Chris said sharply, ‘You won’t catch Calum.’ She stopped, closed the door, which she had half opened, and turned to face him, leaning against it.

‘I don’t know what you mean.’

Chris laughed unpleasantly. ‘You know exactly what I mean. Calum fell for your trick, but he’s much too clever not to see through you eventually—even if no one tells him.’

He had jumped to the wrong conclusion, but it was impossible to tell him the truth; he would only have her thrown out that much more quickly if he knew she was trying to get a story on his cousin. ‘Are you—are you threatening me?’ she said unsteadily, the future looking a long, empty prospect again.

‘No.’ Chris straightened up from the arm of the settee on which he’d been sitting and came over to her. ‘Just warning you that you’ll be wasting your time.’

Tiffany thought of bluffing it out, but one look into Chris’s eyes told her it would be no use. She didn’t admit anything, but instead raised large, pleading eyes to his. ‘Things have been tough for me lately. You wouldn’t begin to understand…’ Her fists clenched. ‘I—I deserve a break.’ She broke off, her voice unsteady.

Chris’s mouth twisted sardonically, and she didn’t think that she’d got through to him at all. But he amazed her by giving a shrug and saying, ‘If you want to make a play for my cousin, then go ahead. Try your luck. But you’ll be disappointed.’

‘You mean you’ll tell him anyway,’ she said bitterly.

Slowly Chris shook his head. ‘No, I won’t tell him.’

Her eyes widened. ‘But you said…Why won’t you tell him?’

‘I won’t need to.’ He put a hand under her chin. ‘And maybe it will amuse me to watch you try.’

She stared at him, realising that he was playing with her. Her chin came up. ‘All right—so watch.’ Then she turned and walked out of the room with as much dignity as bare feet and a bathrobe could give her—which wasn’t much.

CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_405cd906-a249-5559-b742-a1475922e4a6)

FRANCESCA had told the boutique to send not only evening gowns but a choice of day clothes too. The assistant who had brought them was deferential to say the least. ‘The Princess told us your size, senhorita, and that you were fair. I am sure you will find something here that you like.’

Tiffany was sure of it too; all of them looked good on her, and any one of the dresses, she was equally certain, would have put her in hock for the rest of her life. Not that any of the clothes had anything so vulgar as a price-tag attached. Wondering fleetingly if she was supposed to pay for the dresses, and deciding not to worry about it, Tiffany chose a chic blue shorts suit to wear for the rest of the day and a stunning black velvet cocktail dress to wear that evening. Luckily the boutique had also sent shoes and evening bags, so she was able to put a whole outfit together.

Francesca came in just as the assistant was packing up all the clothes, and applauded Tiffany’s choice. ‘Mmm. Nice. I wish I could wear those shorts suits, but my legs are so long I look ridiculous in them.’ Patently untrue, of course, but it was a kind thing to say. ‘Put the things on my account,’ Francesca said offhandedly as the woman left.

‘Oh, but really…’ Tiffany made a half-hearted protest, comfortably sure that it would be overborne.

It was. Francesca lifted a hand to silence her. ‘No, please. My pleasure. Let’s go down, shall we?’

She was still wearing the flame outfit, and strode ahead down the corridor towards the stairs. After they’d gone about twenty yards, Tiffany called out, ‘Hey! Do you always walk this fast?’

Pausing at the head of the staircase, Francesca laughed. ‘Sorry. All my family are so tall that I suppose I’m not used to slowing down.’

‘From what you said earlier, you don’t seem to see much of them,’ Tiffany remarked, coming up to her.

‘Not as much as I’d like to. Especially Chris; he always seems to be somewhere I’m not, if you see what I mean.’

‘Don’t you live in Portugal?’

‘No. I have an apartment in Rome, but at the moment I’m renting a house near Paris. And you?’ she asked as they reached the bottom of the stairs and moved towards the sitting-room again. ‘Do you live in Oporto?’

‘Yes, I’m sharing a place with friends,’ Tiffany returned, wondering what Francesca would think if she knew that ‘sharing a place’ really meant that someone she used to work with smuggled her in and out of an attic room shared with three other girls, and that Tiffany had only a sleeping-bag on the floor to call her own.

The room was empty, but the windows opened on to the garden and they could see Calum outside on the terrace, talking to the caterer again. The two girls went out to sit at an ornamental table and Calum brought the woman over to them.

‘Francesca, do you have any further instructions for Mrs Beresford on the party at the quinta?’

‘Yes. Would you excuse me a moment, Tiffany?’

The other girl moved away and Calum sat down beside Tiffany. He smiled. ‘I see you found something to suit you.’

‘Yes—much better than the bathrobe.’