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⬠ÜNope.⬠"! He smiled. ⬠ÜSometimes I think of things I might write down, and then something intervenes. You know, work⬠¦ I⬠"!m surprised
you remember.⬠"!
⬠ÜI⬠"!m starting to remember quite a lot.⬠"!
His lips twitched. ⬠ÜNot too much, I hope.⬠"! Then after a while he opened his eyes and said cautiously, ⬠ÜDid you ever wish we hadn⬠"!t
ended when we did?⬠"!
She stilled, then disentangled herself from him and lay back on her pillow, her heart thumping ridiculously, considering it had all happened ten
years ago. ⬠ÜDid you?⬠"!
⬠ÜI guess. Though at the time it seemed⬠for the best.⬠"!
A million questions jostled for answers, not least the ones beginning with ⬠Üwhy⬠"! if this idle conversation was intended to convey how much
he regretted their crash and burn. Still, she knew how to play the caution card too. In fact, it was the only one she ever dared use these days.
⬠ÜWho for?⬠"! she said, as casual as he, while underneath her façade her adolescent heart was bursting through the layers to demonstrate
that all along it had been ticking away alive and well, nursing all its old unresolved violence, just waiting for a trigger, a chance to spill its guts.
His blue eyes met hers, intent, earnest, held them an intense, throat-catching instant, then veiled and slid away.
⬠ÜAh⬠¦probably both of us,⬠"! he said gruffly, retreating onto his pillow. ⬠ÜIt wasn⬠"!t the sort of dependence either of us could afford at that
age, was it?⬠"!
Spoken like a chief executive officer.
She couldn⬠"!t resist some gentle mockery, unable to betray her savage soul altogether. ⬠ÜYou mean there was too much emotion involved?
Too much passion?⬠"!
He crooked his arm over his eyes while her words floated on the air. After what seemed like for ever, he stirred himself to lean up on his elbow and
gaze down at her, pure and thrilling sin brimming from his smiling eyes.
⬠ÜI think we both know there can never be too much passion.⬠"! He reached for her and kissed her swollen lips with the same passionate
fervour as the first time.
CHAPTER NINE
IT WAS absurd to hold a grudge, and, truly, those painful emotions had long since cooled. She was an adult now, fast approaching the era of life when her
womanly powers would be at their height, so if a man was fun and exciting, charming, wicked and a virile, sensitive lover who could send her over the
edge, how crazy would she be to hold it against him that he⬠"!d once let her down?
So long as she kept her head and didn⬠"!t harbour any destructive yearnings for a long-term arrangement, she could enjoy the current fling and
walk away with a satisfied grin.
Surely.
So when the plane cruised her over the Alps and into Nice, with a night of the most fantastic and voluptuous love-making still warming her spirit
she had nothing to complain of. Unless she counted a slight tenderness in certain delicate areas and a pressing need to sleep. Pity there was a day of
conferencing to get through first.
To her surprise they were met at the airport by a uniformed man in a cap marked Hotel Metropole, who bowed. ⬠ÜMam⬠"!selle et monsieur,
your ⬠"!elicopter awaits you.⬠"!
⬠ÜOur helicopter?⬠"! she exclaimed to Joe. ⬠ÜFrom here into the city?⬠"!
⬠ÜOh, didn⬠"!t I mention it? The conference is in Monte Carlo. Merci,⬠"! he said to the pilot, launching into a stream of fluent French in
response to something the man said.
Monte Carlo. Well, one exotic location was as good as another, and who was she to quibble if he didn⬠"!t inform her of absolutely every minute
detail?
And, truly, she⬠"!d never experienced anything like that helicopter flight. It was her first time, and gazing down into the dazzling Mediterranean as
it foamed up on the shores of a million little bays and inlets was a stunning experience. Marinas thronging with yachts and fishing boats, heart-stopping
little villages perched on hillsides, spilling down cliff-faces⬠¦ Image after charming image unfolded, etching themselves into her thrilled heart for all
eternity. And Monte Carlo itself was a fairy tale. Spilling over the hillsides, the pale pink and cream sandstone city descended to a harbour marina where
vessels were packed like sardines. A little further out some of the big glossy cruising yachts rode at anchor on the waves.
⬠ÜYou see that chateau on the edge of the sea?⬠"! their pilot enthused. ⬠ÜThere is our famous Monte Carlo casino. And here we go down.â¬
"!
The pretty houses, the turquoise sea⬠¦ Every view from every angle was breathtaking. How could Joe not be swept away?
He wasn⬠"!t, though, she could tell when the fantastic ride was over and they strolled into the sumptuous lobby of the Metropole. While she
glanced excitedly around her at what looked like a palace, taking in the rich furnishings, the tapestries, the elegant clientele chatting over their coffees,
Joe was frowning, the grim lines around his eyes and mouth a reminder of their sleepless night.
⬠ÜWhy didn⬠"!t you mention the helicopter and Monte Carlo?⬠"! she murmured while they were waiting for the desk clerk to attend to them.
⬠ÜMaybe I don⬠"!t care for the name.⬠"!
She gave him a sharp look and Joe felt a slight twinge of guilt. He supposed he had been less than forthcoming with her about the details of the
trip.
⬠ÜOh, well.⬠"! He spread his hands. ⬠ÜI said the south of France. There⬠"!s hardly a great difference.⬠"!
⬠ÜTell that to the Monacons.⬠"!
⬠ÜThe Monegasque,⬠"! he corrected gently. ⬠ÜOr the Monacoians.⬠"!
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