else in her position, she thought, would have enjoyed a no-strings flirtation and gone home smiling at the end of it. So why couldn’t she?
It couldn’t be because she felt obliged to remain faithful to her marriage vows. Nick certainly felt no such compulsion. In fact the whole church ceremony had been a cynical charade, and she couldn’t imagine why he’d insisted on it—unless it had been to placate his elderly grandmother who, as well as being his only living relative, was French and a confirmed traditionalist.
Fortunately, she also lived in France, and so would not be aware of how little time her grandson and his bride had actually spent together—even under the same roof. Because, although she would no doubt regard a mariage de convenance as a sensible solution to a difficult problem, she would still demand that appearances be maintained.
But Nick was not one for appearances, Paige thought, biting her lip. Nor was he any good at pretending …
She stopped abruptly, aware that this was another strictly no-go area.
She should concentrate on the positive side of the situation, she decided bracingly. Remind herself that the months and weeks of their separation were ticking away to zero. And freedom.
She turned back into her room with a slight shiver. Sunsets always made her melancholy. And tomorrow it was back to the grindstone.
The dress she chose was a black silky slip with narrow straps, cut cleverly on the bias. She hung a teardrop pearl on a fine gold chain at her throat, and the matching drops in her ears. Her sandals were high-heeled and stylish.
Not to die for, she thought, reviewing herself critically in the full-length mirror. She would never be that. But, all the same, looking good.
The Waterfront had been built on a promontory overlooking St Antoine’s most sheltered harbour. It was a large single-storey building, as local regulations demanded, and provided conference facilities, a health club, and its own discreet casino. In addition it had two excellent restaurants, one of them open air with a thatched roof, overlooking the water, with cabaret in the high season and live music for dancing all the year round.
Brad Coulter was waiting for them in the foyer. He was a stockily built man with a ruggedly handsome face. His blue eyes lit up when he saw Paige.
‘You look wonderful.’ He took her hand and kissed it. ‘Angie, have you persuaded her to stay a while longer?’
‘Not so far, I’m afraid.’ Angela shook her head ruefully. ‘She seems determined to catch that plane tomorrow. Some nonsense about having to earn her living.’
‘She could do that here.’ Brad smiled at her.
‘I don’t think so.’ Paige shook her head, glancing around her, absorbing the ambience of luxury combined with good taste. ‘You don’t need a PR person. This place clearly sells itself.’
‘There are other positions—other roles we could discuss, maybe.’ He was still holding her hand, and Paige detached herself gently.
‘It’s a nice thought, but I’m not really looking at the moment. Thanks.’
‘Well, let me at least show you around,’ Brad suggested. ‘Let you see the layout.’
‘Good idea,’ Jack said heartily. ‘We’ll see you in the bar presently.’
And Paige, with murder in her heart, allowed herself to be led away.
In spite of herself, she found she was enjoying the tour. Brad was clearly proud of what he’d achieved, and rightly so. And he had firm ideas about his plans for the future, she realised with frank appreciation.
‘Sure I can’t tempt you to stay here?’ he asked, his eyes searching as he poured them both a drink in his private office.
‘Absolutely convinced.’ Paige took the glass from him with a murmur of thanks. ‘In fact, I’m not sure I shouldn’t be recruiting you instead, for Harrington Holdings. We could do with your kind of vision.’
His brows lifted. ‘Things not going so well?’
She shrugged. ‘We’ve had a so-so year. More than our fair share of problems.’ She paused, pulling a mock-guilty face. ‘And, as you can see, I’m a lousy PR girl, because I shouldn’t even be talking like this. I ought to be saying that everything in the garden is lovely.’
‘Well, there are no journalists present, and your secrets are safe with me.’ He looked at her enquiringly. ‘So, if your heart’s not in it, why do you work in public relations? Maybe the time is right for a change of career.’
‘I’ve already had one. I started out on a women’s magazine, working in features.’
‘You got tired of that?’
‘By no means. I was persuaded that I was needed elsewhere. And my family can be very persuasive.’
‘Ah,’ he said. ‘Then perhaps I should try a little coaxing myself.’
She was aware that he’d moved closer along the big white leather sofa they were sharing.
She stiffened, her hands clasped together in her lap, her whole body language a warning to him not to stray any nearer. She offered him a taut smile. ‘I’m really not open to any kind of inducement at the moment. I have problems of my own to sort out.’
‘I know you’re married,’ he said. ‘Angie told me. But she also said it hadn’t worked out. So that needn’t be a barrier. I’m divorced myself, and it isn’t the end of the world.’ He paused. ‘Unless you’re still carrying a torch for the guy?’
‘Absolutely not.’ Her voice sounded clipped and very clear. ‘We weren’t together long enough to light one.’
‘That doesn’t mean a thing.’ The blue eyes were shrewd. ‘Sometimes it can just take one look across a room full of other people.’
Was that how it had been when he saw her? she wondered, and hoped not with all her heart. Because only self-deception lay that way, as she had reason to know.
‘For me, it would take far more.’ She stared rigidly down at her untouched glass.
‘Well, I’m a patient man,’ he said. ‘I can wait.’
Paige bit her lip. ‘Brad, you’re really nice …’
‘Oh, God,’ he said. ‘I feel a rejection coming on.’
‘But you don’t know me—or anything about me other than things that Angie’s said.’ She attempted a laugh. ‘And, I warn you, she’s biased.’
‘That’s precisely why I want you to stay a while longer. To give us both a chance to find out if this thing could be going somewhere.’ He paused. ‘Paige, I was hit hard when my marriage broke up, and I won’t pretend otherwise. But I’m over it now, and ready to move on. When I saw you, I thought for the first time that this could be the time, the place and the girl.’
She said quietly, ‘I’m flattered. In fact, I’m honoured. But the fact is I’m simply not free, personally or professionally,
