Free There's Something About St. Tropez by Elizabeth Adler

bathtubs.”
    â€œBetter let me take charge of things.” He pulled her closer. Then he lost his balance and both of them slid, sputtering, beneath the foam.
    Sunny emerged first, gasping and shaking her head, rubbing water out of her eyes. “So much for the famous sexy TV private investigator.” She laughed. “ ‘Every woman’s Malibu fantasy. The man in charge. The guy who can do everything.’ Except kiss a girl in a slippery tub.”
    â€œGet over here.” Mac grabbed her again, running his hands over her familiar curves. And this time they had no trouble finding each other amongst all those scented bubbles.
    â€œLet’s begin where we left off,” Mac said, remembering the night before Sunny left, when Tesoro had sabotaged their lovemaking.
    â€œYes,” she breathed. “Now, right now, Mac.” She was no longer tired andher hands were on him, on that firm muscular butt that looked so good in jeans. They were laughing as they skidded, clutching happily at each other. Making love in water was trickier than they had imagined. Somehow though, they managed it.
    And they didn’t even hear the mournful howl that came from the direction of the bedroom.

 
8.
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    Belinda Lord liked her double room though she was still pissed off about all the money she had paid for Chez La Violette. Still, the room was spacious enough, and simple, with its twin white beds and club chairs, and she liked the French doors with their green shutters opening onto a flowery balcony. A perfect place for a peaceful breakfast or a glass of wine while taking in the sunset.
    For a moment she regretted inviting Sara Strange to share the room. Of course she had acted on impulse but there was more to it than that. Belinda had been in Sara’s position; she knew what it felt like to be broke, to be cheated on, to have to go out and forge a life for herself. Only thing about Sara though, was Belinda was not sure she was the type to go out and get what she wanted from life.
    Looking at Sara, still standing in the middle of the pretty room, brown eyes bugging with mixed apprehension and delight, Belinda sighed. She had too much on her own plate right now to worry about Sara. The girl would just have to get on with it.
    She checked her phone and text messages. It was as she had expected. The mad Russian was even madder. He was too clever to threaten directly, knowing it could be traced and used against him in a court of law, but his entreaties to “come home, sweetheart, I miss you” held a note of menace that Belinda recognized. She closed her phone and sat on the balcony wondering what to do about it, and what would happen when the Russian husband caught up to her. A tremor of fear trickled down her spine.
    â€œIs it all right if I take a shower?”
    Sara’s voice interrupted her downward spiral of thoughts.
    â€œWhat? Oh, yes, of course it is. And by the way, I have first dibs on the bed by the window. Okay?”
    â€œOf course. And I’ll do your unpacking if you like. Anything you want. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this.
A good woman
, that’s what my mom would have called you, and she knew what she was talking about.”
    Belinda laughed. “Then she’d have made a mistake this time, sweetie. ‘Good’ I am definitely not. Bad? Yes. Wicked? Maybe. And on any given day you will get bits of all those characteristics. Meanwhile, what are you going to do about the bastard boyfriend?”
    Sara’s lips tightened. “I’m thinking about that,” she said uncertainly.
    â€œThen keep right on thinking, sweetie, because there’s only one answer and you know it. Meanwhile, take that shower please, and leave me alone with my thoughts. And trust me, your problems are minor compared with mine.”
    Sara wasn’t too sure about that but she went anyway. Sara was the kind of girl who had always done as she was