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‘What’s so funny?’ I said, staying low in the water, like a hippopotamus.
‘Very elegant, Holly,’ he said. Oh God. I knew I wasn’t. I just smiled serenely and waited for the moment to pass. I needed to acclimatise so I tipped my head back into the water to wet my hair, channelling my inner sexy shampoo-ad model and we polished off the Champagne. Luca’s swimming trunks left nothing to the imagination, as he stood proud, letting it all hang out, like an oven-ready poussin.
‘Shall we have some lunch and then we can relax in the pools?’ Luca asked. I nodded enthusiastically. Yes, I was ready for heaven, thanks.
We got dressed with lots of layers for temperature-management and packed a day bag to take down to the spa. The lift took us to the second floor, where the pools were nestled into the side of the mountain, each one connected to two others via a mini water-corridor, apart from the slightly larger pool in the middle.
‘It’s very quiet here, isn’t it?’ I said, as we walked through to the restaurant.
‘Exactly as I like it,’ Luca replied. ‘The bustle of people in the village is a distraction.’
‘I like the peace and quiet too, but I haven’t seen another person yet, apart from the staff?’
‘You can only get here by helicopter, so it keeps most people away,’ he said, with a shrug. Luca seemed quite satisfied with that, but it was a shame such a beautiful place was sitting here quietly with no one enjoying it.
A waitress with a long, blonde plait approached us with two menus and a smile.
‘Good afternoon, Mr Blanchet, Ms Roberts,’ she said, nodding politely at us both. ‘We have a lobster linguini special today, with scallops and caviar, and a pulled pork ravioli starter with a stewed apple sauce. Can I get you some drinks?’
‘Oui,’ Luca said, scanning the wine list. ‘Champagne?’ he asked me, peering over the top. Not again. I was starting to get heartburn.
‘Erm… how about a nice Semillon?’ I ventured with a smile.
Luca’s brow furrowed, and the waitress looked from me to him and back again, not sure what was happening. She was obviously used to his suggestion being final.
‘Yes, the Semillon,’ he said, snapping the wine list shut and handing it to her, ‘and some sparkling water.’
‘And some still water too, please,’ I added, as she scribbled away on her notepad, giving a decisive nod before walking off.
I felt Luca’s foot under the table and looked up to find his brown eyes on mine.
‘The food here is delicious,’ he said, scrutinising the menu. ‘The chef isn’t as good as Xavier, but very close.’
‘You know it well, then?’ I asked innocently, pretending to focus on the starters.
‘I try to come once or twice a season. It is so peaceful and luxurious,’ he replied. ‘Genevieve and I used to come with our parents, so we know it well.’
‘Wow, you’re so lucky. My parents only ever took me to the seaside in England. A place like this is a dream in comparison.’
‘My father likes to throw money at problems instead of facing them,’ Luca said, ‘so we had a lot of luxury distractions as children.’
‘And as adults,’ I said, looking around.
‘Oui.You might say we are still quite distracted. My father made his fortune through property and gave us everything we ever wanted and more and now I want to build something for myself. Prove I can do it too.’
‘Through investing in restaurants?’ I asked.
‘Yes. I want to broaden my portfolio in France and then beyond. Culinary excellence, paired with the very best wines from around the world.’
The waitress returned with a bottle of Semillon and presented it to Luca, who gestured at me to try it. She opened it and poured a splash and a half into my glass. I gave it a sniff and took a small sip. Perfect. A nice crisp glass of white was exactly what I wanted. I gave the waitress a smile.
‘Delicious, thank you,’ I said and put my glass back down to be filled.
We ordered our food and clinked cheers for the third time that day. The hotel was positioned on top of the mountain, so there were snow-topped peaks all around and the spa pools steamed and bubbled, calling out to us while we enjoyed our lunch.
‘This ravioli is amazing; would you like to try?’ I asked, holding out my fork to Luca, not really wanting to share it.
He shook his head and didn’t offer any of his king prawns in return. Maybe that wasn’t the done thing among the mega-rich. I was half minded to take a piece back for Xavier to inspect and pull apart. But maybe that wasn’t the done thing either. I’d have to savour the taste and report back as best I could.
