the casual shop we went to another one for dresses. Then another shop for lingerie, another for shoes, and far, far more of everything than I could possibly need for this trip.
‘How long are we going to be on the boat?’ I asked as he signed things.
‘As long as I can make it last,’ he said, finishing with a flourish.
‘But it can’t be more than a few days, can it?’
‘Trying to escape me already?’ he asked, with a grin that made him gorgeous.
‘No way! It’s just that you’re buying me more than I’ll need.’
‘Of course,’ he said, slightly shocked. ‘We can’t be economical. Think of my reputation. When parcels start arriving on The Hawk everyone must be able to see that you have ten times what you actually need. And another thing,’ he added, trying to look stern, ‘I expect you to do a lot of sunbathing by the pool. If I see you in the same bikini twice, you’re in dead trouble, lady.’
I liked this man.
He told the shops to deliver everything to The Hawk at once.
‘All except this,’ he said, indicating the very smart blue dress I was wearing. ‘It’s just right for lunching at the Hotel de Paris.’
‘You can’t get into that restaurant without a reservation, ’ I warned him.
It was a slip, but he didn’t seem to notice.
‘I have a reservation,’ he said. ‘I called them before we left the boat.’
Of course. I should have known that he would have done.
So we went there and had lunch high up, looking down at Monte Carlo. I could just make out The Hawk and something else that didn’t please me at all.
‘The Silverado is still there,’ I said in disgust.
‘Forget Vanner. I won’t let him get to you.’
Who cared about Vanner anyway? Who cared about anything except the grilled turbot they were serving and the perfect wine? And the man sitting opposite me. Who cared about anything but him?
He was looking at me with one raised eyebrow.
‘Tell me something,’ he said. ‘Why were you working for Vanner? I don’t suppose he paid more than peanuts, and he didn’t treat you well. You must have been desperate.’
‘I do freelance work in department stores, demonstrating goods,’ I said, sticking to the truth as far as possible. ‘A job fell through and I took the first thing that was offered—being a waitress on The Silverado. There wasn’t time to check it out. When I realised how much more than a waitress I was supposed to be, we were already out at sea.’
‘And that’s the whole story?’
‘What else could there be?’
‘I suppose you could tell me how come a young woman who knows so much about good living needs to work as a demonstrator or a waitress.’
‘You don’t know how much I know,’ I said uneasily.
‘I’ve watched you choosing good clothes like an expert. You’re used to money, and you’re familiar with Monte Carlo—otherwise you’d never have known that you need a reservation for this place.’
So he had noticed my slip after all!
‘All right, all right,’ I said. ‘Daddy was a millionaire, and I was brought up in the lap of luxury. But we fell on hard times.’
He surveyed my wryly. ‘So you’re not going to reveal anything?’
‘Nope. I told you, the less you know about me the better. I have no past, no life outside this moment.’
‘Well, you can’t blame me for trying to guess.’
‘Don’t waste the effort. Whatever you’re thinking about me is wrong.’
‘You don’t know what I’m thinking about you.’
‘Maybe not. But whatever it is, it’s wrong. I’m not like—what you think.’
‘I think you’re one crazy lady.’
‘OK, you’ve got that bit right,’ I conceded.
‘And I’ll get the rest right too,’ he said in a teasing voice. ‘Because I want to know all about you. And I’m going to.’
I shrugged. ‘If you think you can.’
Inside, I was vowing that there were things about my life that he would never know—not if I could prevent it.
‘Woman of mystery, eh?’
‘The less you can find out, the less others can find out,’ I said. ‘And that’s how you need it. Now, why don’t you tell me about myself? My official self, that is. What’s our story?’
His eyes gleamed. ‘It’s no use changing the subject.’
‘Yes, it is,’ I said at once. ‘Changing the subject is the best diversionary tactic ever created, and, considering how often you’ve used it yourself, you must know that.’
‘How do you know I use it myself?’
‘Because you’re up to every trick.’
‘How do you know I’m up to every trick?’
‘Are you saying that Bully Jack isn’t?’
‘Will you leave Bully Jack out of this? He doesn’t exist. He’s a fantasy figure that the PR boys have invented. He’s good for the company image, but that’s all.’
‘Do you mean,’ I asked indignantly, ‘that you don’t crush everyone beneath your feet? That you don’t smash rivals with a ruthless mailed fist?’
He made a wry, apologetic face. ‘Sorry.’
‘Well, I was never so disappointed!’
He smiled and I caught my breath.
‘Are you really?’ he said.
And suddenly I didn’t know what to say.
Chapter Five
Della’s story
SUDDENLY one corner of Jack’s mouth quirked in a crooked smile.
‘What?’ I challenged.
‘Do you realise we’ve known each other less than twenty-four hours?’
‘I don’t believe it. But, yes, it’s true. It was only
