Heaven Scent (38 page)

‘But . . . I have to do it sometime, don’t I?’

‘It doesn’t have to be tonight.’ Cat witnessed relief flooding through Seraphina’s eyes but it was fleeting. She could tell the young girl had made up her mind, even though she was clearly terrified. Cat took Seraphina’s hand. ‘I really wouldn’t recommend sleeping with your boyfriend just because you feel you should or . . . or because he’s older than you and he tells you all sophisticated girls do it.’

Seraphina blinked and topped her champagne flute up clumsily. ‘He’s not . . . he hasn’t . . .’

‘Really?’ Cat didn’t believe her. ‘Look, you should only do this if you want to . . . if it feels right.’ She regarded Seraphina, admiring her luminous beauty. She was so beautiful and quirky, Cat couldn’t bear the thought of her losing her virginity to someone who didn’t appreciate it, especially some older man who was clearly pressing Seraphina to take their relationship a step further.

‘If you’re not ready, say no, Seraphina, please,’ she urged. ‘If you’re worried he’ll leave you because of it, you still say no, because that means he isn’t worth it. Actually, it means he’s a total shit.’

‘But I love him!’ Seraphina jumped to her feet, tears in her eyes. ‘I don’t want to lose him . . . I can’t. He’s all I’ve got.’

‘What are you talking about?’ Cat stood up. ‘You have an entire family around you. You have Max and your father . . . and Xavier.’ She felt strange saying his name out loud; she had been doing a good job of not thinking about him for the past ten minutes. ‘All of these people care about you and, believe me, that counts for a lot. I didn’t have any family around me so I really
was
on my own, but you’re not, Seraphina. You must know that.’

Seraphina tossed back her champagne recklessly and when she turned back to Cat, her eyes sparkled with defiance. ‘My boyfriend is the only one who doesn’t treat me like a stupid child around here, Cat. He’s the only one who takes my modelling career seriously too – even Max told me he doesn’t want me to model. He’s always trying to discourage me . . . he never wants me to do anything . . . he’s just as bad as my father.’ She was slurring her words now.

Cat grabbed Seraphina’s hand. ‘He doesn’t think that, he’s just trying to protect you.’

‘I don’t need protecting!’ Seraphina yelled, pulling herself away from Cat. ‘I’m sixteen, I’m not a child. And I wish everyone would stop treating me like one!’ Spinning round, she headed unsteadily out of the door.

Cat felt terrible. She hadn’t done a very good job of dissuading Seraphina with her honest tale about John the surfer; if anything, she had fuelled Seraphina’s already reckless mind. She seemed to think sex would solve all her problems and insecurities and she couldn’t be more wrong.

‘There you are.’ Max poked his head round the door. He was wearing a suit for once, albeit it with a white T-shirt and red baseball boots. ‘Wow. You look
really
hot.’

Cat raised her eyebrows. ‘Thank you. You look pretty good yourself.’

Seeing that she was alone, Max frowned. ‘Where’s Seraphina?’

‘Gone to meet her boyfriend, I think. Didn’t you just bump into her?’ Cat swished to the door in her gown, wondering what to do.

Max looked upset. ‘No. Has she really gone to meet him?’

Cat dithered for a moment. She didn’t want to betray Seraphina’s confidence but she couldn’t help thinking the young girl was about to do something she might bitterly regret, especially since she was drunk. ‘I need to talk to you,’ she told Max, making a decision. ‘Seraphina will probably hate me forever but I just can’t let her do something she’s been pressured into doing. . .’

Cat filled Max in, hoping to God she was doing the right thing.

 

Xavier burst into the main salon clutching a box, hardly aware that the party was in full flow. The male singer was taking a break so most people had drifted outside to the pool area. His father was missing, as were the twins; in fact, the only family member he could see was Leoni, who was standing outside with a man with brown hair. Xavier recognised him as Jerard Monville, the businessman Leoni had been seeing for a while. They certainly looked cosy enough together, if not deliriously happy.

Xavier had been in the lab until around ten minutes before. He had hastily thrown on a dinner suit with a black tie undone around his shirt collar. Delphine, making sure everything was ready for the speeches, smiled at Xavier’s impromptu arrival. His dark hair was sticking up all over the place and his eyes were slightly bloodshot but he looked elated.

He had finally figured out the missing ingredient to his fragrance. It would mean a trip to Morocco but at least the elusive element that had been evading him had finally made itself known. Xavier’s eyes darted around the room, searching for Cat. Still fuming about their altercation the other day, he had thought about it – and about her – constantly ever since. Xavier had finally acknowledged something he’d been in denial about since Grasse.

‘Xavier. Is that what I think it is?’ Delphine nodded at the box in his hands, wondering why his eyes were sparkling so vividly.

Xavier grinned. ‘Not quite. I’m still working on the fragrance but I think I now know what the missing ingredient is. Hey, since when has
he
been one of our friends?’ Amused, he stabbed his finger in the direction of the Hollywood movie star who was holding court out by the sun loungers.

Delphine smirked. ‘Isn’t it wonderful? We’ve been so lucky with our attendees this evening.’ She gestured to the box again. ‘So, if that’s not the fragrance, what is it?’

Xavier rubbed his slightly stubbly chin, thinking he should probably have had a shave. ‘It’s the prototype bottle for the new fragrance.’ He unfolded the crisp, white tissue paper from the box and drew the bottle out carefully. ‘What do you think?’

Delphine cradled the bottle in her hands, turning it this way and that, watching as shafts of light splintered through it. ‘It’s beautiful,’ she commented. ‘I thought it might be modern and angular but . . . it’s stunning. It almost has a vintage feel.’

‘That’s right,’ Xavier agreed, pleased she liked it. The bottle, shaped like a ripe but elegant teardrop, begged to be handled. It fitted into the palm of the hand and it was made of thick, shimmering glass that would look sensational once the scent was inside it. The thinner end yielded an antique-style silver stopper with filigree detail around the neck and the overall effect was both stylish and eye-catching.

Xavier slipped it back into the box. He had a really good feeling about it. It felt right for the new fragrance and it was going to be the perfect way to really lift it into a more modern consumer band.

‘Where’s Cat?’ he asked, thinking she’d probably like to see the prototype.

Delphine looked vexed. ‘I do wish everyone would stop talking about that girl! I have no idea where she is, Xavier. I haven’t seen her and I’m not in the least bit interested in what she’s doing.’ She stared at her favourite grandson, her hazel eyes watching him keenly. ‘Why are you so desperate to see her?’

‘I’m not desperate,’ he said defensively. ‘She had a hand in designing this bottle, that’s all.’

‘Really?’ Delphine raised thin eyebrows. ‘Is there no end to that girl’s talents?’ Quite frankly, she was sick and tired of hearing people gush about Cat Hayes. ‘The sooner that girl goes back to England, the better,’ she added, annoyed. ‘And from what she tells me, it will be very soon.’

‘What?’ Xavier’s head snapped up.

Delphine caught sight of an influential French politician and raised her glass at him politely. ‘She told me the other day that she needs to get home after the party. I think her patience has run out and her new passport should arrive any day.’

Xavier experienced a moment of panic. Cat couldn’t be leaving . . . not yet. Even though he had known she wouldn’t be hanging around forever – at least, not without a good reason – he hadn’t realised her departure was quite so imminent. There were things to say, feelings to confront . . . Xavier realised he’d better speak to Cat again – as soon as possible.

 

Wearing an emerald-green dress with long sleeves and an extremely low back that exposed her slender form, Leoni was feeling edgy. In a fit of vanity, she wasn’t wearing her glasses and as she deplored contacts, she was squinting at people rather rudely because she couldn’t quite make out their faces. For all she knew, she had been chatting warmly to a waiter and ignoring a president’s daughter, but she had wanted to look her best for Jerard. It was worth it; he had been transfixed by her since his arrival.

‘You look lovely,’ he said, his eyes flirting with hers. ‘That dress is really beautiful on you.’

‘Thank you.’ Leoni gripped her champagne flute. She had never been any good at accepting compliments; it stemmed from years of criticism from her parents who’d been disappointed that she hadn’t inherited the dazzling Ducasse looks. Her grandmother in particular had a way of making her feel frumpy and not good enough, even now.

‘I think it’s customary to return the compliment,’ Jerard joked, sweeping a hand downwards to indicate his expensive-looking dinner suit. It had satin lapels and monogrammed sleeves and it was certainly dashing.

Leoni smiled. Now that she knew about his wealth, it was obvious in so many details – the exquisite cufflinks, the handmade bow tie and even the heavy watch on his wrist. Still, having grown up around opulence, Leoni was unmoved by such things; they were commonplace in her world. ‘You look very handsome,’ she said, feeling bold as she slid her arm round his waist. ‘Irresistibly so, in fact.’

‘Really?’ Jerard tucked her hair behind her ear and leant down to kiss her. ‘I’m beginning to think you’ve got something planned for tonight. Or am I mistaken?’

Leoni blushed and shook her head. ‘No. I mean . . . I’m not sure.’ She wished Jerard wouldn’t keep doing that thing with her hair; it wasn’t flattering to her ears and it made her feel self-conscious. And rather child-like, Leoni thought with a frown. She didn’t want to feel like a child, she wanted to feel like a woman.

He put an arm loosely round her shoulders. ‘Shall we go outside for a while? It looks magical with all the lights.’

She nodded, her heart beating fast. This was it; she was finally going to find out if he was serious about her and, frankly, the revelation couldn’t come soon enough. Ducking into the alcove Seraphina had hidden in all that time ago when Cat first arrived, Leoni took a seat.

‘I’m so pleased we found each other,’ Jerard said, taking a seat next to her. ‘We’re so well suited, aren’t we?’

She nodded. ‘I suppose we are.’

Jerard nodded, taking her hand. ‘There is no “suppose” about it. I’ve never been with someone who understands my commitment to business as well as you do. Every relationship I’ve had . . . women have just fallen by the wayside because they don’t appreciate what it takes to keep a successful business afloat.’ He shook his head, his blue eyes dismissive. ‘But you do. You’re in the same boat and you understand that business takes priority. I mean it, Leoni. You’re the one.’

‘I’m the what?’ She was shocked. Was he saying what she thought he was saying? It sounded as though he was going to propose or something. Her heart gathered pace but she couldn’t say exactly why. How would she feel if he did propose? Overjoyed? Petrified? Disappointed?

‘The one who understands me,’ he explained, giving her a smile. ‘Whatever happens, I know you’ll be fine about me putting business first because you work so hard yourself.’

Was she? Was she all right about Jerard always putting business first? Leoni frowned. She wasn’t so sure. Business had always taken priority in her life but she now realised it had been to her detriment. She admired Jerard’s business ethic and she could admit that they had a great deal in common.

It was just that . . . Leoni couldn’t help feeling deflated by Jerard’s comments. She wanted romance, she wanted that high people talked about when it came to love, that crazy, dizzy, inexplicable buzz in the stomach that was like nothing else. Even her grandmother, austere and cold, had been in love!

Leoni knew that she too had been in love, with Ashton, but that had been one sided. All the breathless, wonderful feelings had been there but, unreciprocated, they had died a death. A slow one, admittedly, but eventually she had seen sense. Leoni sighed, staring at Jerard. As much as she loved his commitment and focus, she wanted to be important in his life too. Didn’t every woman want that? Didn’t all women want to be adored and desired and put first, just once in a while? Remembering the cute old couple in Paris, Leoni knew she wanted that; she wanted to be married to someone until she was old, someone who loved her, despite what she looked like or what she did for a job, someone who thought she was special enough to be the most important thing in life – even if it was just now and again.

‘You must know how I feel about you,’ Jerard said softly, his thumb moving over her hand.

Leoni didn’t but she felt her heart flutter slightly. She wished he would gather her up in his arms and kiss the life out of her, sink his hands into her hair and tell her he couldn’t live without her. ‘No, no, I don’t,’ she stammered, waiting.

‘Then let me show you . . .’

Jerard bent his head and kissed her face all over, his eyelashes brushing her skin. It was romantic, achingly so, and Leoni’s breath became laboured as she eagerly met his mouth with her own. But his hands were holding hers, which was somehow inhibiting. She didn’t feel she could let herself go and passionately kiss him the way she wanted to. She willed him to ravish her. She wanted to be thrown on to a bed and kissed endlessly and she wanted her clothes to be torn from her body, her sheer, expensive stockings ripped off in the heat of the moment . . .

‘You’re so special to me,’ Jerard murmured, smoothing her hair back again. Irritably, Leoni noticed Jerard’s phone had fallen to the ground. He knelt down to retrieve it, still holding on to her hand. As he did so, Leoni looked up and thought she saw Ashton. She caught a glimpse of blond hair and a dinner suit, but without her glasses on, she couldn’t say for definite that it was him. Then whoever it was disappeared into the darkness.