Heaven Scent (44 page)

Hoping to clear the air with Xavier, Cat approached the lab. She stopped dead and her stomach lurched as she watched Xavier kissing Angelique, who was wound round him like a possessive octopus. She felt a shiver of pain go through her. She had thought Xavier really cared about her – loved her, even – but it seemed she was wrong.

Cat swallowed down a sob. What had happened between them last night obviously meant nothing to Xavier. Cat felt as worthless as the dirty glasses and half-eaten canapés left over from the party. With tears stinging her eyes, she hurried away before Xavier saw her.

Seconds later, Xavier abruptly stopped kissing Angelique. What the hell was he doing? He didn’t want this – he didn’t want Angelique. He had loved her once but she had hurt him too badly and he couldn’t forgive her. He didn’t want to dissect their relationship and figure out the truth any more than he wanted to resurrect it. A vision of Cat’s beautiful, pure face swam in front of him and he felt tainted by Angelique’s presence.

‘Stay away from me,’ he told Angelique curtly. ‘I’m sure you think that kiss proves something and you’re right. It proves that there’s nothing between us any more.’

Angelique pouted. ‘Oh, really? I thought I was the actress around here. The way you kissed me just then – that was real.’

Xavier shrugged. ‘For a few seconds, maybe. And then I came to my senses, trust me.’ He gave her a cold look. ‘I’m leaving for Morocco in the morning and I’d be glad if you weren’t here when I got back.’

Angelique stared after him thoughtfully. Xavier had clearly been affected by her arrival but whether it would lead to anything serious remained to be seen. For now, she would keep the pressure on and bide her time.

She slipped into Xavier’s lab. Not really sure where to look, she was gratified to find that he had conveniently packed everything up for her. She took something she wanted – insurance, in case it all went wrong. She left the lab with a spring in her step.

 

Back in Paris, Ashton was making a monumental effort to put aside his broken heart and get on with his life. Seeing Leoni with Jerard – especially with Jerard down on one knee and Leoni looking as though all of her Christmases had come at once – had been more painful than he could have imagined. He didn’t know for sure it was a proposal – maybe he was mistaken about that – but the two of them had looked very intimate and serious about one another.

He left his apartment and stepped out into hazy sunshine on the streets of Paris, telling himself to stop being such a wet. Leoni didn’t think of him in that way and that was it. She never had done and she never would. It hurt like hell and he missed her like crazy now that she was with Jerard but he had to pull himself together. He had a building to buy and for the next few hours that was all he was going to think about. The public auction he was about to attend had been set up by the owner of the building. Such auctions were known in France as ‘Audications Volontaires’ – Sales of surplus property, mostly by private owners.

Focused on the task ahead Ashton hurried to the auction. In spite of everything that had happened, he was still going to do his best to secure the building for the Ducasse family. The property was intrinsically linked to Leoni; every aspect of his architectual plans, every corner of the store had been designed with her, and the idea for her home fragrance line, in mind. This made the whole procedure inordinately painful but Ashton was a man of his word and he was going to do everything in his power to get the building. He was wearing a dark suit, even though donning formal attire was unnecessary for auctions, because it made him feel more focused and more professional. On the outside, he looked very together; his hair was tidy and he’d shaved. On the inside, Ashton was falling apart but if he managed to carry on looking as composed as he thought he did right now, he was sure no one would guess.

Ashton was surprised to see so many people at the auction which was taking place in a large hall just on the edge of the ninth arrondissement, and he felt uneasy for a moment. He told himself his bid would be successful; after all, Guy had practically written him a blank cheque. There was half an hour or so to go before the auction was due to start, so after signing his bidding authorisation and proving his identity, Ashton ducked into the gents. He splashed cold water on his face and wiped it dry with a paper towel. He’d just finished when he heard someone come in. Turning, he was astonished to see Marianne standing before him, wearing her belted black trench coat and a pair of scarlet suede high heels.

‘Er, Marianne, I think you’ve come through the wrong door.’

‘I know.’ Marianne smiled and came closer. Her red hair was loose again today, hanging around her shoulders in a fragrant cloud, the rich shade matching her glossy lips and shoes. Ashton caught a waft of her pungent perfume and recoiled. What the hell was she up to? He moved backwards as she advanced on him and found himself backing into one of the cubicles.

‘The auction is going to start soon.’ He frowned, watching Marianne toying with the belt of her coat.

‘Not for another twenty minutes,’ she purred, following him. She reached out and smoothed a lock of his blond hair behind his ears. ‘You’ve shaved,’ she pouted, allowing her fingers to trail down his strong, smooth jawline. ‘What a shame. I prefer “the less polished Ashton”.’

Ashton shook his head, feeling trapped.

Marianne let out a breathy sigh. ‘Still, it’s what’s underneath that counts.’ She deftly pushed the cubicle door shut behind her. They were chest to chest in the small space and Ashton couldn’t help thinking he had accidentally been transported into a French farce.

He held her at arm’s length. ‘Marianne, stop this.’

‘But I want you,’ she said huskily.

Ashton shook his head. ‘No, you don’t. You want the property and if I’ve learnt anything about you since we’ve met, I’d say that this is all about Guy Ducasse.’

Marianne stared at him, her green eyes unflinching. She slowly undid the belt of her trench coat, then the buttons, one by one. When they were all undone she held the lapels of her coat and opened it. Beneath, she was completely naked, revealing a neat bush and voluptuous breasts topped by large, red-pink nipples.

‘Is this about Guy Ducasse?’ she asked in a throaty voice.

‘Marianne!’ Ashton quickly closed her coat.

‘Are you . . . turning me down?’ she asked, her eyes widening incredulously.

Ashton firmly did up the belt of her coat. ‘In the nicest possible way,’ he told her gently. He gestured to the door and reluctantly Marianne headed out of the cubicle.

‘Let’s see just how much Leoni Ducasse, and the rest of the family, mean to you,’ she said in a sly voice, her eyes narrowing as she met his.

‘Meaning?’

‘Meaning that as you’ve turned down my first . . . offer, I will have to play dirty, as you English say.’

Ashton waited. He felt concerned but he was buggered if he was going to show it.

‘I have the owner of the building we both want so badly in my back pocket. And whatever Guy Ducasse has sanctioned as a budget can easily be tripled by me,’ Marianne stated airily. She looked Ashton in the eye. ‘Trust me. If I want that building, it’s mine. I have dealt with all other interested parties, so that only leaves . . . you.’

Ashton’s heart sank. He believed Marianne. If she said she had the owner eating out of her hand, and that she had dealt with the competition she probably had. Given the way she’d propositioned him just now, Ashton had a fair idea how she’d managed it too.

‘There is one thing that would change my mind,’ Marianne said, inspecting her fingernails.

‘Name it,’ Ashton said immediately.

Marianne did. In one, short sentence, she told him exactly what she was after and what it would take for her to back off and allow Ashton to purchase the building.

He gaped at her. Whatever he had been expecting, it wasn’t this. ‘You can’t be serious.’

‘Oh, I never joke about business, you should know that by now,’ she returned grimly. ‘Business is about winning. And I hate to lose, Ashton, I really do.’ She checked her watch. ‘You have five minutes to decide. I’ll wait for you in the auction room and we’ll take it from there.’

Staring after her, Ashton gripped the edge of the counter in disbelief. Was she really asking him to do that? Of course she was. The question was, what was he going to do about it? Marianne was right, he had to think about how much he really loved Leoni. Was he willing to make this sacrifice for her, especially now that she was in love with Jerard? Could he give up the one thing that really meant something to him, even if he might never end up with Leoni?

He gazed at his reflection in the mirror. The fact that Leoni was besotted with Jerard made things easier in some ways: he now knew how he really felt about her. Marianne’s ultimatum had given his confused feelings clarity, and now he had to prepare himself to make the biggest sacrifice of his life. Straightening his shoulders decisively, he left the gents and went in search of Marianne.

Guy strolled into a small salon at the back of the house, startled to find Cat curled up alone on one of the sofas. She was wearing jeans and a very crumpled purple T-shirt, her dark blonde hair loose around her shoulders and her nose looking slightly sunburnt.

On closer inspection, he realised Cat looked as if she’d been crying.

‘What’s wrong?’ he asked, sitting on the arm of the sofa. ‘What are you doing in here all alone?’

Cat looked up. She almost lost it at the sight of the concern in his eyes but she held herself together, just. ‘I’m . . . I suppose I’m trying to figure out what the hell to do with my life.’

Guy headed to the sideboard and pulled a bottle of chilled white wine out of the fridge hidden in the unit. ‘Would this help?’

She smiled briefly. ‘It certainly won’t hurt.’ She watched him pour the straw-coloured wine into two glasses and accepted one when he brought it over.

‘Cassis,’ Guy informed her as she sipped the wine. ‘Xavier’s favourite.’

Cat buried her nose in it, almost coming undone. It was ridiculous, really, but even drinking Xavier’s favourite wine made her feel sad now. She glanced at Guy again, wondering if it was his ability to appear so collected that made his children think he didn’t care about them. Certainly, if she hadn’t seen him weeping over his wife’s grave with her own eyes, she never would have believed it. Guy had put a wall up around himself that was so impenetrable, he seemed robot-like at times. He was suave and friendly but he never really let his guard down.

Guy rubbed his eyes tiredly, leaning back against the sofa. ‘So, do you feel your visit here has been a success?’

‘Hardly!’ Cat blurted out without thinking. ‘At least . . . what do you mean?’

‘I just wondered if you might have come here needing to exorcise a ghost,’ Guy commented, wondering why she had reacted so strongly. ‘I know it can’t have been easy for you. Leoni and my mother are not exactly welcoming when it comes to outsiders but I was really thinking of you and what you might have been able to overcome since you’d been here.’

Cat toyed with her glass. ‘I guess it’s been good in that way,’ she admitted. She didn’t want to say out loud that learning about Olivier and all his misdemeanours had pretty much killed whatever she had felt for him. ‘I’ve finally realised that being impetuous isn’t always the way to go.’ She said the last words bitterly, thinking about Xavier. As a vision of him with Angelique slobbering all over him came into her head, she felt the wine making its way back up into her throat, acidically.

Guy raised his eyebrows. ‘You call it impetuous, I call it romantic. Xavier has always been considered to be the romantic in the family, you know.’ Seeing her look of surprise, he continued. ‘Oh, yes. He’s creative and he’s temperamental but he has always believed that marriage is something to be taken seriously. He saw the way Elizabeth and I were and he wanted the same thing, a soulmate, someone who was as passionate as he was.’

Cat sipped her wine. It made sense and it explained why Xavier had been so scathing about her marriage to Olivier; he assumed it had been hasty and reckless, rather than a real meeting of minds. He wasn’t wrong, Cat thought soberly.

‘Do you know why he changed?’ she asked Guy curiously. She was sure he didn’t know but she wondered if Guy realised Xavier had tried to tell him about it in the past.

Guy shook his head. ‘No.’ He leant forward. ‘Do you?’

Cat nodded guiltily. ‘But it’s not for me to say. Maybe . . . maybe you should ask him about it one day.’

Guy looked perplexed. Changing the subject, he remembered he had been planning to ask her about branding. He did so, saying he’d be interested in her thoughts about Ducasse-Fleurie as a company. ‘We’ve never really paid too much attention to advertising or branding,’ he added. ‘Maybe it’s an arrogant thing but we always just relied on the family name to give us the profile we needed.’

‘It’s not arrogant, brand names count for a lot. I did a paper on this at college. They really are important. The name is the identity of a company, it conveys the personality behind it, the service it provides.’ She warmed to her theme, glad of a distraction from thoughts of Xavier.

Guy wasn’t sure he understood it all, but he was pleased to be focused on something other than Seraphina for a moment. ‘I think we just created perfumes we wanted to and because people liked them, we became lazy and didn’t try too hard.’

Cat nodded. ‘It’s understandable.’

‘What would you change about our brand?’ Guy asked.

Cat scratched her head. ‘Well, you need some new products, as I mentioned before. Leoni’s home fragrance line will be perfect, and the new fragrance of course.’ It would hurt to say Xavier’s name out loud, though she knew she was being stupid. ‘Apart from that, the colour scheme . . . it’s a little dated, if you don’t mind me saying.’