What Happens at the Beach... (15 page)

‘Hello, Barney.' She knelt down and held out her arms to the Labrador and gave him an affectionate hug. Then, in the background, over the top of the big, black, hairy head, to her dismay she spotted Mark heading for the water, head and shoulders resolutely turned away from her. He had no doubt seen her in the arms of the fisherman and had drawn his own conclusions. Suddenly, Natalie's happy mood evaporated at the thought that Mark probably now believed there might be something going on between her and Rémy.

‘Oh, bugger.' Her annoyance came out in English and she saw the incomprehension in the fisherman's eyes. She stood up and switched to French, nodding towards the restaurant. ‘Laure should be there now, if you want to see her.'

He didn't need to be told twice. He gave her a big smile, thanked her again and set off towards the restaurant. Seconds later he stopped, turned back and headed for his boat, which was pulled up on the beach. He reached in and brought out a plastic bag.

‘Here, Natalie, I promised you a lobster, but there weren't any today. But there were some lovely langoustines. Take these for your grandmother. I remember she loves them.'

‘That's really sweet, Rémy, but there's no need.'

‘It's my pleasure. You've done me a huge favour. Ciao, Natalie.' He blew her a kiss and turned back towards the restaurant once more.

Natalie called the dog and he accompanied her across to where she had left her things and sat down alongside her in the shade of the rocks as she dried herself off. She lay in the evening sun for ten minutes on her front and ten minutes on her back, rather hoping that Mark would return so she could explain the scene he had witnessed, but there was still no sign of him. At the same time, she told herself firmly that what Mark thought was of no importance to her. She and he had a working relationship and that was that. She repeated it a few times, but she couldn't shift the feeling that she needed to talk to him about what he had witnessed. Finally, almost completely dry, she stirred and glanced at her watch. It was gone six o'clock; just time for a quick drink before getting ready for work. She picked up her things and went across to the bar, Barney happily abandoning his wait for his master and trotting along beside her. She picked a table from where she could observe the beach for Mark's return, settled down in the sun, with the dog stretched out in the shade under the table, and asked Dominique for a glass of rosé.

She looked around. ‘Laure?' She saw Dominique grin at her.

‘Round the back, talking to Rémy. You see, I told you it wouldn't be long before you girls got yourselves fixed up with men again.'

‘Don't include me in that equation, Dominique. At least, unless you're talking about my hairy friend under the table. That, I fully admit, is true love.' Realising he was being talked about, Barney stood up and came across to lick her hand. Natalie smiled. ‘Right. I'm off for a shower and I'll be back down in half an hour to start work if you still want me. See you soon.'

Chapter 10

At the chateau on Monday morning, the first thing Natalie did was introduce the subject of the scene Mark had no doubt witnessed on the beach. She had looked out for Mark all day on Sunday in the hope that he might appear, but without success. She had gone down to the beach three times in the hope of meeting him, but had seen no sign of him. She had even fed the dog two biscuits in order to keep him with them for longer, in case Mark came to fetch him, but that, too, failed. Consequently, within seconds of entering his study, she took a deep breath and launched into it as diplomatically as she could.

‘I didn't see you on the beach yesterday, Mark.'

He shook his head. ‘I went for a long bike ride, up into the Pyrenees.'

She was impressed. ‘Wow, that sounds like hard work. How far did you go?'

‘Um… just over 140 kilometres.'

Now she was more than impressed. ‘140 kilometres! In the mountains! That's incredible.' She took a good look at him. The legs protruding from his shorts did indeed boast some fine muscles, but 140 kilometres… ‘Well, that explains why I didn't see you on the beach yesterday. I did see you the evening before, though.'

He nodded. ‘And I saw you, too.'

‘Erm, about that, Mark. I've been waiting to see you to explain what happened.'

He caught her eye. ‘You don't need to explain yourself to me, Natalie. Your private life's your own business.'

Natalie began to feel a totally inexplicable sense of disappointment that the sight of her with the hunky fisherman hadn't bothered him. Somehow, she would have preferred it if he had appeared at least a bit upset. Instead, he just picked up his mug of coffee and took a mouthful. Nevertheless, she'd started so she knew she'd better finish, so she carried on with her explanation as she had been practising it in her head for thirty-six hours now. ‘You see, I work in the restaurant down there some evenings and I've been doing a bit of matchmaking. Have you bumped into Rémy the fisherman?' He shook his head. ‘Spear-fisherman, I should say.' His face cleared.

‘I know the guy. More muscles than a rugby team and a rainforest growing up his back.'

Natalie giggled. ‘He tickles.' Seeing Mark's expression, she felt able to launch into her explanation. ‘I've fixed him up with Laure, the other waitress at the restaurant, and I found myself on the receiving end of a bear hug the other day as a result. And you're right about the rainforest. It was like hugging Barney.' At the sound of his name, the dog opened one eye, checked that there was no food on offer and slumped back into slumber. Mark smiled, although whether this was at the analogy or at the discovery that Natalie and Rémy weren't an item after all was hard to decipher. She saw nothing more on his face, apart from another little smile as she finished and he replied.

‘Good for you, Natalie. Spreading joy wherever you go.'

‘Well, I just didn't want you to get the wrong idea.'

He shook his head. ‘Like I said, your private life's your own affair. You don't need to explain yourself to me.' He swallowed the last of his coffee. ‘Now, what are we working on this morning?'

Mark then carried on behaving exactly the same as normal and gave no sign of anything being strained or awkward so she concentrated on plotting the route they should follow this week on the heels of Simon de Montfort and his crusading army.

It was a very sunny Monday, but rain was forecast from midweek onwards and tomorrow Mark had already said he was tied up. To be on the safe side, they planned two routes for Wednesday; a fair weather route involving ruined castles, open hillsides and mountains, and a wet weather route involving cathedrals, abbeys and castles that still had roofs to keep the rain off. The dog collapsed into his wicker basket by the bookshelves and peace descended upon the chateau although Natalie still couldn't shake the sense of disappointment.

Around late morning, the peaceful atmosphere was disturbed by two strident blasts on a car horn. For the first time ever, Natalie heard the dog bark. Barney leapt out of his basket, emitted a single loud woof and ran for the door, closely followed by Mark. Natalie watched from the window as a very slick-looking, open-topped sports car swept up the drive and stopped in a cloud of dust by the long-defunct fountain. As Mark and Barney appeared around the side of the house, the dust cleared and the car door opened. A woman climbed out, revealing a considerable amount of leg as she did so. At the end of the legs, her feet were squeezed into amazing six-inch-high heels that she couldn't possibly have worn for driving. Natalie's eyes narrowed. It was clear this woman was keen to make an impression. And it was also pretty obvious that the impression wasn't aimed at the Labrador.

Neatly sidestepping the excited dog, the woman advanced a few steps towards Mark, arms extended. Natalie had to admire the agility of the sidestep and the way the woman managed to negotiate the rough gravel drive in those killer heels. Had she tried that herself, she had no doubt she would now be lying flat on her face. Clearly, the sports car lady had considerable experience in high heels. Natalie looked on as Mark and she met in the middle of the drive. You didn't need to be Sherlock Holmes to see that the kiss she then bestowed upon him was far from casual, far from a family affair. In fact, from the way she wrapped her body around his like an eel, it looked for a moment as though she were about to ravage him right there in the middle of the drive. Natalie stepped back from the window feeling vaguely sick.

The woman had long, jet-black hair that glistened in the sunlight. Her dress revealed more of her thighs than Natalie's short one and more of her cleavage than Natalie's other one. Gold glittered around her neck, on her fingers and from her ears. Even from here, the bright-red nail varnish looked dazzling. As she stepped back from Mark and took his hand in hers, Natalie got her first good look at the woman's face and it came as no surprise to see that she was very beautiful. She could have been a model. All right, Natalie thought to herself rather uncharitably, the excessive use of eyeshadow, mascara and bright-red lipstick made her look more like a high-class hooker than an English rose, but there was no getting away from the fact that this was a very attractive woman.

Natalie turned away from the window and tried to concentrate on work once more, but she didn't succeed. The main emotion going through her brain was one of bitter disappointment. It was pretty clear that Mark, as she had secretly feared all along, was spoken for. Of course, she told herself as she gazed absently at the map on the wall, it was pretty inevitable that a man like Mark would have a wife or girlfriend. It was just that he had never mentioned her before and this had given Natalie room for hope.

And, she finally admitted to herself, she really had been hoping; hoping that he would be unattached and that he might be developing feelings for her just as, she now knew, she had been developing feelings for him. Of course, this realisation was now too late. Suddenly seeing him with this other woman made her realise how much she wanted him for herself. She shook her head in annoyance. She was behaving like a little child in a nursery who, just because another kid starts playing with a toy, suddenly wants that one. In the nursery the child would have cried the house down. Here, in Mark's study, Natalie couldn't start crying, but the cold sensation that hit her in the pit of the stomach was enough to wash away the happiness that had been building in her over the past few weeks.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the return of the dog. He came trotting in and across to where she was standing. She felt his cold wet nose on her leg and bent down to pet him. ‘
You
still love me, though, don't you?' She kept her voice low but the dog heard and rewarded her by licking her fingers so thoroughly that she was just about to head off to the bathroom to wash her hands when footsteps sounded down the corridor. The noise of six-inch heels on a hardwood floor being unmistakable, Natalie pulled herself up to her full height, bracing herself for the encounter. The first to enter was Mark, looking vaguely embarrassed. Behind him was the painted lady.

‘Natalie, this is Hortense. She's a friend of mine.'

‘A very special friend of yours, chéri.' Her English was heavily accented, but fluent. To reinforce the message, Hortense reached up and kissed him tenderly on the cheek. In spite of the frighteningly high heels, she was still only about Natalie's height, so that went some way towards bolstering Natalie's faltering confidence. As she looked across at Hortense, Natalie had, grudgingly, to admit that her first impression of her as a high-class hooker was unfair. The woman was very, very beautiful and, although dressed very flamboyantly, she was very elegant and there was no disguising her stunning appearance and the immense care she had taken to look really good, presumably just for him. Natalie found herself wondering for a moment what David would have thought of her. Here, without question, was the sort of trophy wife or partner he had been seeking. She also had little doubt that her erstwhile future mother-in-law would see her as far superior to Natalie in every way.

Hortense then turned towards Natalie and gave her a searching, forensic examination, from her dusty sandals right up to her ponytail held in place with a simple hairband. As the heavily made-up eyes flicked across her, Natalie began to feel stirrings of irritation. Apparently unaware of any antagonism on Natalie's part, Hortense completed her study of Mark's new companion and extended her hand. Natalie's spirits rose as she thrust her own hand, still damp with canine saliva, into the other woman's and saw her look down in surprise as she felt the damp touch.

‘I'm very pleased to meet you, Hortense.' Natalie glanced at the clock on the wall. It was almost midday and she decided this was a very good time to take her leave. She caught Mark's eye.

‘I think I'll leave you two to it and head home to get lunch ready.'

Mark nodded, looking almost relieved. ‘Of course. See you on Wednesday, Natalie, and thank you.'

Natalie now realised why it was that Mark was going to be unavailable the next day and gritted her teeth. Nevertheless, she still managed to give them both a smile as she left. Barney accompanied her out into the garden and across as far as the gate in a show of solidarity. She stopped when she got there, ruffled his ears and told him to go back to the house. He wandered amiably off as she went down the path towards home. As she did so, she finally allowed herself an outburst of annoyance.

‘Bugger!' She could have said more, but this one word was enough. So Mark was not to be. She found herself feeling annoyingly jealous. Considering that nothing of any kind had transpired between her and Mark so far, and that, indeed, he had displayed little or no interest in her, she found this unexpectedly irritating. At the same time, the arrival of the stunningly beautiful, elegant woman had served as a very useful reminder to her that Mark's world of private planes, luxury cars and women straight out of the pages of a fashion magazine was not for her. Somehow, his down-to-earth manner had made her forget that what she was dealing with was a multimillionaire; a very different kind of animal from the sort of man she knew she wanted.