She swallowed. ‘She’d never married nor had children of her own and she put her own life on hold to bring me up when my parents were killed. I loved her, and I owed her—big time. Only, after she’d died …’ Her words tailed off as a wave of sadness hit her.
His eyes narrowed as he saw her face crumple. ‘What?’ he asked softly.
Zara shifted slightly on the sun-lounger. ‘I seemed to have been away from college for so long, and to have seen so much of a different side of life, that I wasn’t sure whether I could go back and start all over again. Waitressing was something I could do without any qualifications while I gave myself time to think about my future. That’s what happened.’
But Nikolai still felt as if she was leaving gaps in her account. What did they call it? Being economical with the truth. What wasn’t she telling him, and why? ‘And what will you do when you go back—do you have other jobs like this lined up?’
It was the best question he could have asked, because it reminded her of the great gulf which divided them. Two people from two different worlds. All that had happened was that those two worlds had briefly collided and after the weekend the universe would settle back into its normal order. So hold onto your dignity, she told herself fiercely. You may have barely a penny to your name—but he will never, ever take pity on you.
Hiding her fears behind a composed smile, she paused as if to give his question proper consideration. ‘I haven’t really decided what I’m going to do,’ she said blithely. ‘I’m waiting for inspiration.’
He saw the proud tilt to her chin and something stirred in his conscience. Had he misjudged her? Been too quick to spring to the conclusion that she was one of those women who wanted to get her hands on his money? She certainly hadn’t been acting that way since she’d been here. There had been none of that narrow-eyed assessment as she’d surveyed the priceless artefacts in his house. In fact, she’d been more interested in the flowers in his garden. And if she was a gold-digger, then she didn’t play by the traditional rules—because she certainly didn’t dress like one. He thought of the simple little sundress which had still managed to look like a million dollars. The cheap little sandals which showcased her wonderful legs. He thought about how hard she’d worked at lunch and dinner—carrying heavy trays in the warm Mediterranean air, while resolutely refusing to meet his gaze and flirt. Maybe he had misjudged her.
‘Well, if it’s inspiration you’re after, then maybe I can help with that.’ He rose from his sun-lounger, momentarily blocking out the sun with his statuesque form—all tight, hard muscle and gleaming golden flesh. ‘Ever swum naked before?’
She shook her head as she looked up at him. ‘Never.’
He took off his swim shorts, then bending over her, he smiled, wondering why her lack of sexual experience should please him so intensely. ‘Good,’ he murmured. ‘Then prepare to be inspired.’
He helped her off the sun-bed, then quickly divested her of her bikini top while she shimmed out of her bottoms. He lifted her up and slid her into water which felt like cool silk on her naked limbs. Zara could never recall feeling quite so weightless, or free before—and she kicked away from him instantly. She was a good swimmer and swam almost a length under water, emerging to blink away the shining droplets of water to find Nikolai leaning at the far end of the pool, watching her.
‘You swim like a mermaid,’ he said.
She laughed. ‘I seem to be missing a tail.’
He caught her by the waist as she passed, brushing his lips over her wet face. ‘I prefer legs,’ he said softly as he found the centre of her feminine warmth, erotically contrasted with the cool lick of the water. He moved a finger with light precision. ‘Don’t you?’
‘Without…question. Oh, Nikolai …’
His kisses were hot and hungry, his fingers practised and swift. The world became composed of nothing but intense sensation—and he brought her to orgasm so rapidly that Zara slumped helplessly against his shoulder, her eyes closed and her breath shuddering from her lips.
‘You liked that,’ he murmured eventually as her breathing slowed against his skin.
‘Mmm.’ Fractionally, she moved away from him—reaching down to capture the hard heat between his legs, her hand closing over his velvety shaft. ‘And do you like this?’
‘Yes, I like it,’ he ground out urgently as she slid her fingers over him with insistent, silky movements—until he, too, groaned his own release.
For a while they stayed locked in each other’s arms as the water lapped against them and then he lifted her from the water and carried her out to one of the loungers, where he wrapped her in a vast and fluffy towel.
He watched as her eyes drifted to a close and it occurred to him that maybe he could have offered her some more imaginative inspiration than mere sex. Couldn’t he have suggested a few of his wealthy colleagues who might be looking for permanent waiting staff—would that have helped? Maybe that was something he should bear in mind.
She was sleeping now, so he went and sat out of earshot and made a few more calls. And later, he took her out to dinner—after first reassuring her that the dress she’d brought from England was fine.
‘Honestly?’
‘Honestly,’ he said quietly. ‘The way your skin is glowing and your hair is shining—I think you could probably get away with wearing sackcloth.’
‘That’s not the most reassuring answer you could have given me, Nikolai,’ she said gravely, and he laughed.
Through the darkening mountains, they drove to St Jean Gardet—where the village had sprung to life. Zara looked around as the powerful car bumped to a halt in the main square, finding it hard to imagine that this was the same sleepy place she’d stumbled upon yesterday. Shops were open and people were strolling around in holiday mood. Lights gleamed from trees and restaurant tables spilled out onto the cobbled stones, so that laughter and chatter carried on the still night air.
Beneath the stars, they ate steak-frites and drank red wine and Zara wished she could have hung onto that moment for ever. Is this what it feels like when you start to fall in love? she wondered as she stared across the table at Nikolai’s angled face. As if everything is perfect and exactly as it should be. As if you have everything you ever wanted, right there at your fingertips.
‘It’s so gorgeous here,’ she said, looking around and trying to fix the moment in her mind. ‘And the woman who was so surly to me in the tabac has just said “bon appétit”.’
‘That’s because you’re with me.’
She bit back a smile. ‘I’d sort of worked that one out for myself.’