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No expense spared, she thought in growing bewilderment. She had read about him in the newspapers, for he made regular appearances in the gossip columns. He had a penchant for incredibly beautiful supermodels and the reputation of being a legendary lover, but none of the ladies in his life seemed to last very long. ‘Nobody’s going to believe you’re engaged to someone as ordinary as me,’ she told him baldly.
‘Ce fut le coup de foudre …’ It was love at first sight French-style, he was telling her with sardonic cool. ‘And nobody will be surprised when the relationship quickly bites the dust again.’
Well, she could certainly agree with that final forecast, but she reckoned that he had to be desperate to be considering her for such a role. How on earth would she ever be able to compare to the glamorous model types he usually had on his arm? Jacques ushered a statuesque blonde in a dark trouser suit into the room. ‘Elise will escort you down to the locker room,’ he explained.
‘So you’re a bodyguard,’ Tawny remarked in French as the two women waited in the lift.
‘I’m usually the driver,’ Elise admitted.
‘What’s Mr Cazier like to work for?’
‘Tough but fair and I get to travel,’ Elise told her with satisfaction.
Elise hovered nearby while Tawny changed out of her uniform into her own clothes and cleared her locker. The Frenchwoman’s mobile phone rang and she dug it out, glancing awkwardly at Tawny, who was busily packing a carrier bag full of belongings before moving to the other side of the room to talk in a low-pitched voice. That it was a man Elise cared about at the other end of the line was obvious, and Tawny reckoned that at that instant she could have smuggled an elephant past the Frenchwoman without attracting her attention.
‘What’s going on?’ another voice enquired tautly of Tawny.
Tawny glanced up and focused on Julie, who stood only a couple of feet away from her. ‘I’m quitting my job.’
‘I heard that but why didn’t he report you?’
Tawny shrugged non-committally. ‘You didn’t spent the night with him, did you? What’s the real story?’
‘A journalist offered me a lot of money to dig out some personal information for him. Accessing Cazier’s laptop was worth a try. I’ve got credit cards to clear,’ Julie admitted calmly, shockingly unembarrassed at having her lies exposed.
‘Mademoiselle Baxter?’ Elise queried anxiously, her attention suddenly closely trained on the two women.
Tawny lifted her laden bags and walked away without another word or look. So much for friendship! She was furious but also very
hurt by her former friend’s treachery. She had liked Julie, she had automatically trusted her, but she could now see her whole relationship with the other woman in quite a different light. It was likely that Julie had deliberately targeted her once she realised that Tawny would be the new maid in charge of Navarre Cazier’s usual suite. Having befriended Tawny and put her under obligation by helping her to move into her bedsit, Julie had then conned the younger woman into trying to take Navarre’s laptop. What a stupid, trusting fool Tawny now felt like! How could she have been dumb enough to swallow that improbable tale of sex and compromising photos? Julie had known exactly which buttons to press to engage Tawny’s sympathies and it would have worked a treat had Navarre Cazier not returned unexpectedly to catch her in the act.
‘You have an appointment with a stylist,’ Navarre informed Tawny when she reappeared in his suite and set down her bags.
‘Where?’
He named a famous department store. He scanned the jeans and checked shirt she wore with faded blue plimsolls and his wide sensual mouth twisted, for in such casual clothing she looked little older than a teenager. ‘What age are you?’
‘Twenty-three … you?’
‘Thirty.’
‘Speak French,’ he urged.
‘I’m a little rusty. I only get to see my grandmother about once a month now,’ Tawny told him.
‘Give me your mobile phone,’ he instructed.
‘My phone?’ Tawny exclaimed in dismay.
‘I can’t trust you with access to a phone when I need to ensure that you don’t pass information to anyone,’ he retorted levelly and extended a slim brown hand. ‘Your phone, please …’
The silence simmered. Tawny worried at her lower lip, reckoned that she could not fault his reasoning and reluctantly dug her phone out of her pocket. ‘You’re not allowed to go through it. There’s private stuff on there.’
‘Just like my laptop,’ Navarre quipped with a hard look, watching her redden and marvelling that she could still blush so easily.
He ushered her out of the suite and into the lift. She leant back against the wall.
‘Don’t slouch,’ he told her immediately.
