much carefully suppressed passion just waiting to burn away all her resistance. She wanted to lose herself completely in it… in him.
She gave a small cry of protest as Xavier’s ears, keener than hers, picked up the sound of someone entering the gallery, and he pushed her away.
Caught up in the shock of what she had experienced, Mariella watched motionless as Xavier went over to where Ali, his chauffeur, was hovering.
Lifting her hand, she touched her own lips, as though unable to believe what had happened… what she had wanted to happen. She had wanted Xavier to kiss her, still wanted him to kiss her, her body aching for him in a hundred intimate ways that held her in silent shock. She and Xavier were enemies, weren’t they?
He was walking back to her and somehow she had to compose herself, to conceal from him what was happening to her.
She felt as though she were drowning in her own panic.
‘We must get back to the villa, immediately,’ he told her curtly.
Instantly her panic was replaced by anxiety.
‘What is it?’ she demanded. ‘Has something happened to your aunt?’
She started to gather up her things, but he stopped her, instructing her tersely, ‘Leave all that.’
He was already picking up Fleur, his body language so evident of a crisis that Mariella forbore to argue. Her stomach was churning sickly. What if something had happened to his great-aunt, perhaps brought on by her own stubborn determination to ignore his dictates? She would never forgive herself!
Falling into step beside him, Mariella almost had to run to keep up with him.
They drove back to the villa in silence, Mariella’s anxiety increasing to such a pitch that by the time they finally turned into the courtyard of the villa she felt physically sick.
Giving some sharp order to Ali, in Arabic, Xavier got out of the car, turning to her and telling her equally shortly, ‘Come with me.’
Even Fleur seemed to have picked up on his seriousness, and fell silent in his arms, her eyes huge and dark.
Please let Cecille be all right, Mariella prayed silently as the huge double doors to the villa were thrown open with unfamiliar formality and she followed Xavier into its sandalwood-scented coolness.
Without pausing to see if she was following him, Xavier headed for the anteroom that opened out into what Mariella now knew was the formal salon in which he conducted his business meetings.
Unusually two liveried servants were standing to either side of the entrance, their expressionless faces adding both to Mariella’s anxiety and the look of stern formality she could see on Xavier’s face, giving it and him an air of autocratic arrogance so reminiscent of the first time she had seen him that she automatically shivered a little.
Expecting him to stride into the room ahead of her, Mariella almost bumped into him when he suddenly turned towards her. A little uncertainly she looked at him, unable to conceal her confusion when he reached out his hand to her and beckoned her to his side.
Holding Fleur tightly, she hesitated for a second before going to join him. Wide as the entrance to the salon was, it still apparently necessitated Xavier standing so close to her that she could feel the heat of his body against her own as he gave the servants an abrupt nod.
The doors swung open, the magnificence of the room that lay beyond them dazzling Mariella for a moment, even though she had already peeped into it at Madame Flavel’s insistence.
It was everything she had ever imagined such a room should be, its walls hung with richly woven silks, the cool marble floor ornamented with priceless antique rugs. The light from the huge chandeliers, which Madame Flavel had told Mariella had been made to Xavier’s grandmother’s personal design, dazzled the eyes as it reflected on the room’s rich jewel colours and ornate gilding. Luxurious and rich, the decor of the salon had about it an unmistakable air of French elegance.
It was a room designed to awe and impress all those who entered it and to make them aware of the power of the man who owned it.
As her eyes adjusted to the brilliance Mariella realised that two people were standing in front of the room’s huge marble fireplace, watching Xavier with obvious apprehension as they clung together.
Disbelievingly Mariella stared at them.
‘Tanya,’ she whispered, her voice raw with shock as she recognised her sister.
Her sister looked tanned and expensive, Mariella noticed, the skirt and top she was wearing showing off her body. She was wearing her hair in a new, fashionably tousled style, and it glinted with a mix of toning blonde highlights.
She was immaculately made up, her fingernails and toenails shining with polish, but it was the man standing at Tanya’s side on whom Mariella focused most of her attention. He was shorter than Xavier and more heavily built, she guessed immediately that he must be Khalid, Xavier’s cousin and Fleur’s father.
‘Khalid,’ Xavier acknowledged curtly, with a brief nod in the other man’s direction, confirming Mariella’s guesswork. ‘And this, I assume, must be…’
‘My wife,’ Khalid interrupted him, holding tightly to Tanya’s hand as he continued, ‘Tanya and I were married three days ago.’
‘Honestly, Mariella, I just couldn’t believe it when we docked at Kingston and Khalid came on board. At first I totally refused to have anything to do with him, but he kept on persisting and eventually…’
It was less than twenty-four hours since Mariella had learned that her sister and Khalid were now married, and Tanya was updating her on what had happened as they sat together in the garden of the villa’s women’s quarters, whilst Fleur gurgled happily in her carrier.
‘Why didn’t you tell me what was going on when I telephoned you?’ Mariella asked her.
Tanya looked self-conscious.
‘Well, at first I wasn’t sure just what was going to happen—I mean… Khalid was there and he was being very sweet, admitting that he loved me and that he regretted what he had done, but…
‘And then you left that message on my cell phone saying you were here with Xavier, and I was worried that you might say something to him and that he would find a way of parting me and Khalid again…’
‘Have you any idea how worried about you I’ve been?’ Mariella asked her.
Tanya flushed uncomfortably.
‘Well, I had hoped that you’d just think I wasn’t returning your calls because I was so busy… It didn’t occur to me that you’d ring the entertainments director…’
‘Tanya, you didn’t ring me to check on Fleur for days. Of course I was worried…’
‘Oh, well, I knew she’d be fine with you, and I did listen to your messages. But Khalid… Well, we needed some time to ourselves, and Khalid insisted… Please don’t be cross with me, Ella. You’ve never been in love so you can’t understand. When Khalid left me I thought my life was over. I’m not like you. I need to love and be loved. I don’t think I’ll
