Free Avoiding Mr Right by Sophie Weston

difference, she found. If she had not been in her dream, it would have infuriated her, but all she wanted now was to go with him. He looked down at her, swinging their clasped hands gently.
    ‘Somewhere shady and private, I think,’ he murmured.
    Involuntarily Christina shivered. Luc’s fingers tightened. He made her look at him. For all his insouciance, his eyes were smouldering.
    Luc’s eyelids dropped. In the middle of her inner turbulence Christina was aware of only one, coherent thought: He feels it too .
    It was alarming. She had never been so sensitive to another human being before, never felt that she could read someone else with absolute clarity—or that he could read her. It was not a comfortable feeling, but that awareness under his down-dropped lids made her feel breathlessly excited. He knew about her turmoil! He shared it!
    But at once he was laughing again, the illusion of shared intensity gone. Even as she became aware of the convulsive grip of her fingers on his hand, the mask of amusement was veiling the dark eyes again.
    He said softly, ‘I wonder if I could displace coffee? Do you know, I almost think I could?’
    Christina was bewildered. ‘Coffee?’
    ‘Your greatest weakness,’ he reminded her.
    ‘Oh!’
    She went scarlet, instantly and undisguisably. She could feel his eyes on her, dancing, warm as the Italian sunshine outside the hotel lobby. He looked amused and supremely confident.
    But all Christina could feel was sudden cold. This was a practised charmer, she realised with an unwelcome shock. Why hadn’t she recognised the signs earlier? If he had confidence it was because it was earned. Women weren’t going to say no to a man who could turn their world upside down with a word, a touch. She felt helplessly angry with herself.
    Luc didn’t notice. He was much too pleased with himself, Christina thought bitterly. He whisked her out through the front entrance of the hotel. He raised a hand to a uniformed man leaning against a car. The other man grinned when he saw them and, in response to a gesture from Luc, threw a set of keys across to him.
    Luc caught them one-handed, not letting Christina go for a second. He raised the hand in acknowledgement. Christina watched the way the chauffeur strolled away. So it was not just women who did what Luc instructed, she thought wryly. It did not surprise her.
    The keys were to a long, shiny limousine with darkened glass in the windows. It had to be one of the most luxurious cars in the car park. Christina frowned at it. Was it the car that had nosed past the end of the alley outside Costa’s? She did not think so but she could not be sure. Would a gossip columnist, no matter how successful, rate a chauffeur-driven Mercedes? It did not seem likely. And yet …
    ‘Expense account?’ she asked, carefully not allowing her suspicions to show.
    Luc was not forthcoming. ‘Not exactly.’
    He opened the passenger door. Christina stood her ground. ‘I don’t ride in stolen cars,’ she said firmly.
    He chuckled. ‘Did it look as if I was stealing it from Michael?’
    ‘Michael?’
    “The chauffeur. I—er—know him.’
    ‘Oh.’ Still she hesitated.
    He pinched her chin. ‘Don’t look like that. He lets me drive the car sometimes, that’s all. I’ve never met such a girl for getting herself worked up over nothing.’
    Christina removed his hand from her chin. ‘You must know him very well if he lets you borrow a car like this,’ she said drily.
    Luc was calm. ‘I do know him very well.’
    Christina was enlightened suddenly. Gossip columnists needed their informants, didn’t they? Perhaps the chauffeur was one of Luc’s. Another thought struck her. Perhaps Luc thought she was going to be one too.
    ‘Christina, it is hot out here,’ he said patiently. ‘I want to swim and so do you. Get in.’
    Christina felt her dormant annoyance reassert itself at this high-handedness. It was a relief.
    ‘You can’t just take advantage of the man