Free Black Diamonds by Eliza Redgold

women were so much more sophisticated and aware of their movements. Jacaranda’s were entirely natural, a fact that stood out even more here in France than it did in her natural habitat in Western Australia. There was nothing artificial about her.
    “This is delicious,” she commented. “We’ve got sparkling wines in Australia now too. The climate and soil is perfect. I guess you know that Moet et Chandon have started producing in Australia.”
    “Of course.” He couldn’t resist adding, “Eventually, my plan, in my mercenary way, is to give them some competition.”
    Jacaranda chewed her lip. He guessed she was wondering if he’d ever forget what she’d said to him the day they met.
    Xavier leaned over so that his mouth was next to her ear, fanning her skin with his breath. “You bite your lip when you’re anxious, you know. Why don’t you just go with the flow while you’re here in France, Jacaranda? Don’t control anything for a while. Let me surprise you.”
    “I … I …”
    He smiled at her stuttering. “I’ll take you into dinner. This way.”
    Xavier’s hand rested reassuringly at the small of Jackie’s back as he steered her through the crowd into the adjacent dining room. Through her dress, his fingers were warm and dry. She was still recovering from the way he’d whispered in her ear. She’d read in books about women’s legs turning to jelly at a man’s touch, but this was ridiculous. All he’d done was breathe on her.
    “ Bonsoir Jackie!” Eve Armitage appeared in a red satin dress with diamonds sparkling at her neck, and gave her a hug. “You look gorgeous. So you decided to come?”
    Jackie grinned back, relieved to see a familiar face, especially one as friendly as Eve’s. “I couldn’t resist in the end.”
    Bob Armitage, resplendent in a tuxedo, came over and shook her hand. “We’re glad to see you. We’re staying here at the chateau too. Still can’t get over how good that truffle oil was that you gave us at your little place in Australia.”
    “I don’t think it can really compare to anything here in France.”
    “You’re too modest,” Eve corrected her, as they made their way to the long table, loaded with crystal and silver, and a huge candelabra flaring in the centre. She sensed the scrutiny of some other guests as Xavier pulled out a chair for her on his right, before taking his own place at the head of the table. To her relief Bob sat beside her, with Eve across the table on Xavier’s other side.
    Xavier made some introductions in French, followed by English.
    “How’s your French, Jackie?” Bob asked.
    “I can barely keep up, even though I learnt it at school,” she admitted. “I can only pick out the odd phrase.”
    “Never mind. The atmosphere’s the thing. Just wait until the Truffle Parade on Sunday in Richerenches. You’ll love it. We have to get up early to get there, and go by chopper, but it’s worthwhile. It’s legendary. Of course, Xavier’s dinners are legendary too.”
    They deserved to be, Jackie reflected in awe, as waiters served them the lightest potato foam flecked with black truffles swirled into martini shaped serving glasses.
    “Mmmm,” Eve swooned as they began to eat. “This is as light as—”
    “Foam?” Bob put in with a laugh.
    “I’m glad you like it,” Xavier responded. “Believe it or not, they’re not all our own truffles. We mixed ours with some truffle oil from an Australian trufferie . Fusion seemed called for tonight.”
    Was he suggesting he’d mixed Paradise truffle oil with his own from the Antoine Estate? The thought sent a thrill through her body as she spooned some more foam into her mouth. It could be her oil, she suspected. If it was, it blended perfectly with the Antoine oil, though the black truffle flecks, the most pungent she’d ever tasted, overcame her palette. She couldn’t be sure.
    Eve was still swooning. “I’m sure truffles are addictive,” she giggled.
    Bob grinned over the