‘You are going to sign them, aren’t you, Anna?’
Anna’s gaze swept over the packed terrace. The setting sun gave the beautiful tanned faces of the Riviera crowd a flattering rosy glow. The noise of excited conversation was underlaid by a faint but insistent bass beat as the nightclubs and parties swung into life. Edgy and restless, Anna felt its feverish pulse echoed inside her.
‘Eventually. I—that is, GreenPlanet too—just want to try to find out what he has in mind for it before the sale is completed. Gavin—one of the GreenPlanet guys—has heard something about a connection with a pharmaceutical company, and apparently Emiliani is intending to cut down most of the pine forest for a landing strip, which of course we’re very concerned about. If that’s the case—’
Fliss shook her glossy, well-groomed head. ‘You won’t stop him. The guy’s legendary for making things happen. It’s what he does. And hell, Anna, it’s what he does beautifully. He’ll make Belle-Eden into something wonderful.’
Seeing the stricken look on Anna’s face, she realised instantly that she’d said the wrong thing. ‘It’s wonderful as it is,’ Anna snapped. ‘He can only ruin it. And the environment. All those trees—’
Fliss was looking at her steadily, sadly. ‘Oh, Anna, that’s not really the issue here, is it? Look, honey, I know when you had to give up ballet it hit you hard. It was your life, and it’s left a big empty space which no one can blame you for trying to fill. But all this eco-stuff? Are you sure you really care about it enough to take on someone like Angelo Emiliani?’
Leaning her elbows on the table, Anna dropped her head into her hands. Suddenly she felt very tired. In the darkness behind her fingers the image of Angelo Emiliani standing at the window in her grandmother’s room came back to her—tall, broad-shouldered and utterly sure of the power he wielded. His confidence was daunting.
It was also horribly, irresistibly attractive.
She felt Fliss’s hand on her arm. ‘Are you sure you’re not just grasping at something to fill that empty space, and maybe—just maybe—get back at your father?’
Anna sat up abruptly and tugged out the band that held her hair back, letting it fall around her face with a flash of vivid pink.
‘Oh, God, Fliss. Maybe. I don’t know; I’m still so angry with him for not being honest with me for all those years. And with Mum, but that’s awful because she’s not here and I still miss her so much too. And that’s why I can’t just let go of the château. It’s my last … link with her. It meant everything to her. It was a part of her.’
‘I think you’re wrong. It’s just a place. She’d understand why it had to be sold. You meant everything to her. You were a part of her.’
Anna got stiffly to her feet and Fliss almost gasped at the pain in her eyes, still raw after all these years. ‘Ah, but that’s the thing, isn’t it? I wasn’t.’ Clumsily she hitched her bag over her shoulder and pushed her chair in, then looked at Fliss with a bright, false smile. ‘Anyway, you’d better go and get ready for Saskia’s gruesome party.’
‘Why don’t you come?’ Fliss was standing up too now, but beneath the red glow cast over the table by the umbrella her face was lined with concern. ‘I know you hate her, but the party’s in the nightclub downstairs; it’ll be pitch dark and she’ll have invited so many people you probably won’t even see her.’
Anna smiled ruefully and began making her way through the crowd back to the hotel lobby. ‘The GreenPlanet guys are having a party on the beach later on. I think I fit in better there somehow, don’t you?’
‘Who cares? You can fit in wherever you want to, Anna. Stop worrying about who you are or what you are and just relax.’ Fliss was almost having to run to keep up with her, but that just meant she talked louder, her exasperated voice rising above the general chatter. Anna clenched her teeth and walked faster.
In the lobby she stopped, leaning against the trunk of a giant golden ornamental palm tree while she waited for Fliss to catch up. But a voice behind her caught her attention.
She felt her throat constrict, her stomach tighten as she recognised that deep, smooth timbre with its faint Italian accent.
She didn’t even have to look round to know where he was. She could tell simply from seeing the direction in which the eyes of every woman in the room were drawn. But still she couldn’t resist.
He was leaning against one of the ornamental palm trees also, his mobile phone pressed to his ear, his broad shoulders stooped and his blond head bent. Utterly self-contained, he looked languid and somehow separate from the bustle of the busy hotel. Only the staccato tap of one long brown finger on the golden tree trunk hinted at the restless energy beneath the impassive exterior.
She darted back out of sight behind her own palm tree, biting her lip, wishing as she used to when she was a little girl that she could click her heels like Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz and find herself back at home. If she left now he’d see her, and then he’d know that her story about staying in the hotel was a big lie. He’d probably find out sooner or later, but she wasn’t ready to give him the satisfaction yet.
Fliss appeared and was just about to launch into reproach, but Anna pressed a finger to her lips. ‘Listen, I’ll come to the party,’ she hissed urgently as Fliss looked at her in bewilderment. ‘Can you lend me something to wear?’
Fliss nodded.
‘Great. Thanks, Fliss. Now, we’re going to walk quickly across this lobby to the lifts without looking round. Do you understand?’
Fliss nodded again, looking as if she thought there was a very real possibility that Anna was in fact seriously mentally disturbed. ‘Why?’
‘I’ll tell you later. Let’s go.’
Slowly, with admirable cool, she left the safety of her palm tree and sauntered past him, managing to keep her gaze firmly fixed ahead. Fliss, however, was much less disciplined and by the time she stepped into the lift her eyes were virtually out on stalks.
‘It was him, wasn’t it? Angelo Emiliani? He is glorious. I wonder if he’s staying here.’ She giggled. ‘I wonder if I could find out his room number.’
But Anna wasn’t listening. She was too busy thinking about the two words she’d just overheard Angelo Emiliani saying. Words that, it would seem, proved that GreenPlanet were on the right lines.
Grafton-Tarrant.
The name of one of the biggest pharmaceutical companies in the world.
CHAPTER THREE
‘BETTER?’ asked Fliss with a grin as Anna emerged, pink-cheeked and wrapped in a towel, from her en suite bathroom.
‘Much. The facilities in the Belle-Eden pinewoods aren’t exactly five star,’ Anna replied, vigorously towelling her hair. ‘I’ve spent the last week hallucinating about hot baths and scented oils.’
Fliss opened the mini-bar and took out a couple of tiny bottles of Chablis. ‘I’m so glad you decided to come tonight,’ she said, unscrewing the tops and handing one to Anna before raising hers and taking a swig. ‘Here’s to Angelo Emiliani and whatever he did to make you change your mind.’ Picking up a paperback and a bathrobe, she headed towards the bathroom and waved a hand airily around the room before she disappeared. ‘Help yourself. Make-up, clothes, whatever—although I do have a dress in mind for you. I bought it because it was so lovely I couldn’t leave it in the shop, but in all honesty it makes my boobs look like over-inflated balloons.’
‘That’s a bad thing?’
‘Yep. Believe me. On you it’ll look sensational.’ Blowing a kiss, she vanished into the steam and shut the door.
Left alone, Anna sank on to the enormous bed and thought about what Fliss had just said.
Here’s to Angelo Emiliani and whatever he did to make you change your mind.
But that was just it. He hadn’t had to do anything. Just his presence down there in the lobby had been enough, and she had to admit that even his absence was pretty potent too. Throwing herself backwards on to the bed with a hungry moan, she gave in to the thoughts that had flitted distractingly
though her head all evening, conjuring his face in her mind’s eye, hearing the low rasp of his voice. Her body, still hot and damp from the bath, throbbed, reminding her of her forbidden feelings with devastating honesty. Trailing trembling, hesitant fingers down over her midriff, she imagined his touch …
There was a knock at the door.
Guiltily she snatched her hand away. Leaping up, she ran across the room, re-wrapping the towel tightly around herself and dragging a shaking hand through her damp hair. Breathlessly, aware of the blush creeping up her throat, she pulled the door open.
‘Yes? Oh! Oh. You.’
He was leaning against the door-frame, casually, menacingly. Smiling, but there was a dark glitter in his eyes that made her take a step backwards.
Dimly she heard Fliss’s voice drifting out from behind the closed door of the bathroom. ‘Who is it?’
‘It’s OK,’ she called back shakily, ‘I’ve got it.’
He made no move, but raised an eyebrow. ‘Am I disturbing anything?’
Yes! How about my sanity and my sense of self-respect for a start?
‘No. What do you want?’
Oh, God. Did that sound how she thought it sounded? As if she might as well have said, Would you like to have sex with me? He shifted position slightly, straightening up, dipping his head, looking at her from under his long eyelashes in a way that made her feel the towel had just dissolved.
‘Well. There are a number of answers to that question. The politest would be “dinner”.’
‘I can’t. I told you. I’m going out. How did you find me?’
‘I asked for your room number at Reception.’
Anna felt her heart plummet. Oh, help. She had a lot of explaining to do to Fliss. Or to him. Should she just come clean now?
But he had already turned and, slinging his jacket over one shoulder, started walking away along the corridor. Spinning back to face her, he shrugged and gave her a half-smile.
‘Oh, well. It was worth one more try.’
Don’t go! she wanted to shout, as the blood sang in her veins and her hormones cried out for her to follow him. He didn’t turn back. She watched him disappear around the corner and then, shutting the door, slumped against it.
He was the man who was supposed to get everything he wanted, she thought despairingly—so why hadn’t he persisted?
She let out a small cry of frustration. Because he hadn’t wanted her enough.
Rounding the corner Angelo felt his hands harden into fists at his sides.
It seemed she had been telling the truth after all, and his instincts had been wrong. She was Felicity Hanson-Brooks, and she was staying in one of the most over-priced hotels on the Riviera, which was hardly the kind of accommodation one would associate with a committed eco-warrior.
He gave a small shrug. At least he’d found out now rather than taking any further trouble over her. Now he could forget all about her and get on with the deal.
‘It’s just as well we’ve been best friends since the dawn of time.’ Fliss sighed enviously. ‘If not I’d hate you. I knew it would look great on you—I just didn’t realize how great.’
Distractedly Anna fingered the gossamer-fine oyster-coloured silk. She had submitted to Fliss’s ministrations without a murmur, but all the time her head had been elsewhere. With Angelo. Wondering what would have happened if she’d said yes …
Forcing herself reluctantly back to reality, she managed a dazed smile. ‘It’s a fabulous dress. Thanks, Fliss. I’ll just have to try very hard not to think about the millions of silkworms that died to make it.’
Fliss gave her a warning look. ‘Good, because I’m sure that each and every one of them is up in heaven now agreeing that it was worth the sacrifice. Just look at yourself.’
Slowly Anna met her reflection in the full-length mirror. Gone was the smoky-eyed wild child. In her place stood a sophisticated society girl. The dress was short, a sort of baby doll style that managed to look demure while also being almost indecently sexy. The pearly silk fell in softly gathered folds from a yoke that reached just to the top of her breasts, and everything about her gleamed, from the tiny clusters of beads and crystals on the short bodice at the top of the dress to the little sequinned slip of a scarf Fliss had wound around her throat.
How could she look so smooth, so polished while underneath she was on fire?
She breathed out slowly, wondering how long the dizzying cocktail of hormones was going to keep pumping through her body.
Her hair, newly washed and straightened, hung in a dark silken curtain over her shoulders with no sign of the pink streaks beneath. She gave her head a little shake to reassure herself that they were still there, and flicked up the dress to see her denim hotpants underneath.
‘You can’t wear those, Anna! They’ll spoil the line of the dress!’
‘They’re fine. I might go to the beach party later on, and I can hardly wear this there. The GreenPlanet guys wouldn’t recognize me. I don’t recognize me.’
‘Excellent. That was the general idea.’ Going over to the wardrobe, Fliss selected a shoe box from the stack on the floor. ‘Try these.’
Inside was a pair of high-heeled sandals consisting simply of two slim diamanté bands. The room seemed to go very still for a moment as Anna looked down at them. When she lifted her head again her face was bleak.
‘I can’t wear them, Fliss. They’re too high.’
‘Ah. Then we have a problem. You know me and shoes—I don’t do flat. You couldn’t manage just for one evening?’
Anna shook her head. ‘My ankle won’t hold up in that position. The surgeon who operated was pretty clear about that. But thanks anyway.’
For a moment the two of them looked at each other in mute sadness, then Anna managed a watery smile.
‘Oh, well, I’ll just have to go barefoot. It’s exactly the kind of stupid thing people expect me to do. You know how I hate to disappoint.’
They could hear the thud of the music long before they reached the party. As the lift plummeted downwards towards the basement nightclub the hot evening air vibrated with rhythm and with sensual promise, until the lift doors opened and the full impact of the party atmosphere was unleashed.
‘Come on!’ yelled Fliss, dragging her into the mass of sweating bodies. ‘Let’s dance!’
A problem with the bones in her ankle may have put paid to Anna’s ballet career but it hadn’t stopped her from dancing. The music was loud and pulsating, a wailing cacophony of guitar and drum that seeped into her spine and turned her bones to jelly. Smiling into Fliss’s eyes, she tried to lose herself in the noise and movement.
But it was as if he were there with her. Every time she raked her hands into her hair and lifted it from her hot neck, in her head she was inviting the touch of his lips; every thrust of her hips in time to the throb of the music was wishful fantasy …
‘Anna! Anna!’
She opened her eyes, dazed by yearning. Fliss stood in front of her, grinning. ‘I need a drink!’
Anna stumbled after her through the crush, out into the relative quiet of the bar. Fliss came to an abrupt halt and cursed quietly. ‘Uh-oh,’ she said in a low voice. ‘Quick. Turn round.’
Too late.
Coming towards them was a blonde in a tiny silver dress with waist-length platinum hair.
‘Hi, Saskia!’ said Fliss. ‘You look great!’
Saskia inclined her head in silent agreement, but said, ‘Oh, I feel dreadful. I haven’t had a full night’s sleep since we’ve been down here—too many parties. But you look marvellous, darling.’ Kissing the air beside Fliss’s left cheek, Saskia’s eyes slid round to Anna and swept over her coldly. ‘And what’s this? Roberto Cavalli?’
‘You were never the sharpest tool in the box, Saskia, but I’d have thought that even you could remember my name after five years in the same class at school,’ Anna muttered.
‘The dress. It’s Roberto Cavalli.’ Anna remembered that sly, insinuating tone s
o well. ‘How kind of Fliss to lend it to you.’
Anna’s chin shot up. ‘How do you know it isn’t mine?’
Saskia laughed. ‘A Cavalli? Out of your league, Delafield. I hear that Ifford Park is having to throw itself open to parties of schoolchildren again this year. Sad, really.’
Noticing the storm clouds gathering in Anna’s eyes, Fliss stepped in quickly.
‘Love the hair, Saskia! It looks astonishingly real.’
Saskia looked smug. ‘It is real. Swedish, apparently. Feel. The Sunday Tribune paid for it. I heard that they asked you to do that article too, Anna. Pity they didn’t devote a bit more of the budget to you. But then—’ she paused, flicking one long, sugary-pink acrylic nail ‘—I suppose you should think yourself pretty lucky you were asked to do it at all as it’s an article about the daughters of the aristocracy. Trade Descriptions Act, and all that.’
The colour drained from Anna’s face and beside her Fliss gave a shocked gasp.
‘Anyway, must go. So many eligible bachelors to dance with, so little time. Enjoy the party, darlings.’ She gave a little smirk as she teetered off and then turned back, her long hair swishing out like a pale vampire’s cloak.
‘Isn’t it your birthday any day soon, Anna? I think I remember that it was pretty close to mine.’
‘Yes.’
‘Are you having a party this year? Do let me know if you are—I’d love to come.’
‘Oh, she is such a cow. Anna! Wait!’
Fliss’s voice reached Anna over the heads of the crowd as she pushed her way through but she didn’t slow down. She knew it was stupid to let Saskia’s barbed comments upset her, but as usual they had flown with unerring accuracy right to her rawest nerve.
She had been stupid to come.
Flinging herself through an unmarked door, she found herself in the merciful quiet of a dimly lit corridor. Heart hammering, she leaned back against the scarlet damask-covered wall and closed her eyes, waiting for the demons that snapped at her heels to retreat.
One Night In Collection Page 39