 
MR HOLLYWOOD HEART THROB

Annette Hawkins

Published by Annette Hawkins at Smashwords

Copyright 2013 Annette Hawkins

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# Lessons in Love

On a business flight from Hong Kong to San Francisco, Gail finds herself seated next to the infamous Carver Heath, serial entrepreneur, multi-millionaire, and the sexiest thing on two legs she's seen in her lifetime. She's terrified of flying, and when he invites her to spend a "no-strings attached" weekend with him in the Napa Valley, to divert her mind from her fear, Gail is not sure whether he's being serious or not. Because, if he is, the promise of a red-hot, sexy weekend with a renown and dominant sex-god is certainly tempting. Contains descriptions of spicy sex scenes and graphic language.

Reviews for Lessons in Love

"***** This story gives the SOG a run for its money in the most sex in a book category! This story sizzles and sometimes leaps off the page! Totally loved it." hrhsophia - Smashwords Reader

"***** Totally hot and possible. A good blend of erotica and love in bloom." Nickel Mann - Smashwords Reader

# Chapter 1

Laure stamped her feet on the cobble-stoned street and flapped her arms around her chest in a vain attempt to pump some warmth into her frozen bones. The early start, coupled with the late arrival of her contact, had caused her blood sugar to sink to an all time low. Her temper was fast beginning to fray. She pulled her woollen hat down hard over her hair to protect her ears and face from the biting-cold morning air that whistled through the village ramparts and scanned the road below for signs of approaching vehicles.

"F-f-f-fuck you, St. Vignes," she shivered. "I've been w-w-w-waiting for over an hour and I'm f-f-f-fucking f-f-f-freezing."

"Hardly the welcome I expected, Ms. Parker. I'm sorry you've had to wait."

The harsh, heavily-accented, masculine voice came from behind her. Laure swung round with a start. He'd come from the village. Not the direction she'd expected him to come from. Struck dumb, she stared at the famous Hollywood director before her.

In another life, he would have been heart-stopping gorgeous. Tall, athletic-built, and dressed in lean jeans that moulded his muscular thighs and hips, and a rumpled jacket with thick, woollen scarf draped carelessly yet so stylishly around his neck, he looked like a mature university student. His shoulder-length hair was just starting to grey at the temples. In this life, the face that should have been devastating attractive was marred by a deep-set scowl. It was hard to distinguish his age, but Laure guessed mid-thirties. That was a surprise. From reading his bio, she'd presumed he was older.

"Mr. St. Vignes." She held out a woollen-gloved hand in greeting. Damned if she was going to apologise for her outburst. "Perhaps I was wrong. I thought we said six-thirty this morning."

"We did." Todd St. Vignes ignored both her outstretched hand and her comment. She watched him scan the steep, cobbled slope leading down to the car park, pondering, as she had done many times since receiving his call two weeks earlier, why the hottest, new director to be feted in Tinseltown had arranged to meet her in person to scout the village. Normally the job of reviewing potential film locations was left to the assistant director. The only possible reason she could think of was that St. Vignes was either a control freak or an absolute perfectionist. Judging by the hard-set look on his face he was both.

He turned back to face her. "If you are quite ready, Ms. Parker, we have work to do and I'm short on time," he snapped. "You could start by telling me why you think this particular village should be used as the principle setting for the film."

He strode past her leaving Laure staring open-mouthed at his back.

A _French_ accent? St. Vignes was full of surprises. She had presumed, like most people, he was American. He obviously wasn't - unless he was in character. One thing was sure though. Mr. Hollywood Hot-Shot had gotten out of bed the wrong side that morning. The question that came to Laure's mind was "Whose?".

Rumours rife within the film world had linked Todd St. Vignes romantically with several of his leading actresses, some at the same time. According to the latest gossip, his most recent conquest was Heather Dunstone, a beautiful, blonde, silicon-enhanced model-cum-actress, who had been photographed clinging to his arm at a number of Hollywood gala evenings. Not that Laure was remotely interested in film-set gossip, of course, she reminded herself as she rushed to catch him up.

"Of course, Mr. St. Vignes. If we take a walk through the village I can show you some of the buildings and locations I think would be perfect for the film," she offered, trying to take back the initiative.

Three months ago, when Laure received the assignment to scout for locations for a new historical-action film about the Maquis, a faction of the French Resistance active during the Second World War, she was thrilled yet surprised to discover that she would be working for Todd St. Vignes. He had a reputation as a director of gritty, hard-action films. To work for someone of his stature would guarantee work on big-league, large-budget films in future, something Laure had slogged hard at to achieve over the last ten years.

Falling into step by his side, she lengthened her pace to keep up with him. She was anxious to see his expression as she guided him through the narrow archway of the village wall and down the narrow cobbled street towards the leafy central square. It was a matter of personal pride that he agreed with her choice of location.

"As you will see, Mr St. Vignes, the village has retained a lot of its original charm. I've already spoken to the local Maire and he is keen to help us smooth over any official red tape that we need to negotiate...that is of course, if you decide to go ahead with this location."

One look at Todd's face told Laure his mood hadn't improved. His head was down and a storm was brewing behind those strange, luminous-grey eyes.

He pulled up abruptly in his tracks. "I don't care about red tape, Ms. Parker," he snapped. "I just need to be convinced that this is the right location for the film." He threw a furtive glance over his shoulder before proceeding towards the square.

Curious to see what he was searching for, Laure followed his eye-line. There was nothing but an empty street behind them yet she had the distinct impression he thought they were being followed. If his lateness had annoyed her, now his strange behaviour put her on edge.

"Tell me, Ms. Parker, why did you choose this village in particular?"

That was easy. From the moment she'd discovered the remote village of La Tourettes, perched high on a steep mountainside in the Hérault region of Southern France, she knew instinctively that she had found the perfect setting for Todd St. Vignes' new film. The village, with its charming narrow, cobbled streets and shady square, framed on all four sides by medieval archways, was just as Laure had imagined from reading the film script, and captured the spirit of the Maquis village portrayed by the author of the original book to perfection. But it wasn't just that. She was proud of her work and her reputation as a film location scout, being one of only a handful of women to succeed in the male-dominated profession.

She stepped in front of him, keen to engage him in eye contact. "I read the script and your instructions several times to make sure I had a solid picture in my mind," she explained. "There are a number of other villages in the area that, with some special effects work, might fit the bill, but this one, La Tourettes, is exactly how I imaged the Maquis village to be. I find it uncanny. Look!"

Her natural exuberance returned as she led him around a sharp corner into the main square. The leafy centre, lined with picturesque columbine archways, took Laure's breath away just as it had the first time she saw it, as though she had stepped back in time to another era. She hoped St. Vignes would be sensitive to the historic atmosphere too.

"Look," she gestured with a wave of her arm. "There's the boulangerie... and the bar... and over there,...that's where the old men play boules in the late afternoon. It even has the water fountain, and the old stone laundry tubs where the Maquis hid their weapons. Can't you see Michel, the main character, sitting outside the bar, under the arches, putting the world to rights over a pastis?"

"Ricard..." he corrected.

Warming to her theme, Laure spun round to face him; her eyes bright with enthusiasm. "Er, yes. Ricard... And over there. There's the tabac where Michel first meets and falls in love with Aurelie. If we go inside you'll see exactly what I mean. It's just as the author described! Such a romantic setting!"

OK, so the sub-plot, the romance between Michel and Aurelie, had hooked her more than the war and action scenes. She couldn't help it. The author had painted such a tender "against all odds" love story amidst the vivid horrors and devastation of war.

Holding up an open palm, Todd halted her mid-flow. "You are painting a very pretty picture, Ms. Parker, but do I have to remind you this is a film about the bravery of the Maquis, not a romance? I'm more concerned with being able to recreate the harsh social conditions and the rugged terrain which allowed the Maquis to hole up and avoid capture from the Germans for so long. I don't want a picture-postcard village."

As though to emphasis his point, a window shutter slammed shut on the other side of the square. The noise ricocheted off the arcades like a volley of rapid, gunfire. Laure ducked, earning a huff of contempt from St. Vignes.

Embarrassed to be spooked so easily, Laure began to lose her cool. His gruff behaviour wasn't helping her tattered nerves any. Clearly Mr. Hollywood Hot-Shot was going to be difficult to please.

"Of course," she backtracked immediately. "I didn't mean to focus solely on the relationship between Michel and Aurelie." She glanced around for inspiration, her enthusiasm waning fast. "Would you like to continue the tour of the village, Mr St. Vignes?"

He didn't even bother to look at her. He just nodded curtly, his eyes fixed straight ahead of him.

Admonishing herself with a silent reminder to remain objective, Laure led him across the square to the north-east edge of the ramparts, pointing out several buildings and locations along the way she thought might be suitable for key scenes in the film. Compared to her previous visits, the village seemed strangely empty yet the tingles up her spine told her that every move they made was being watched from behind faded lace curtains. Whether Todd St. Vignes sensed it too she couldn't tell because each comment or suggestion she gave was met with derision or worse still, a sarcastic grunt.

After trying for thirty minutes to win him over, Laure gave up. In his current mood it was best to leave him to discover the village for himself, she figured.

"Perhaps you like to look around on your own, Mr. St. Vignes?" she suggested, shrugging her shoulders. His demeanour made her feel like a ten year old who had been caught doing something wrong. She needed to put some distance between them so that she could rethink her strategy.

"It's your film, and ultimately your decision as to whether you use this location or not. Perhaps I should leave you to wander around yourself and get a feel for the location. I'll head back to the car and wait for you there. I have a couple of other sites we can look at, if you wish."

"You're right, it is my film and I have seen enough." At last, he turned to face her, his luminous-grey eyes burning into her soul.

Todd stared at her hard, taking in the slightly-upturned nose, red with cold, the full lips, and intelligent green eyes that regarded him from underneath a ridiculous beanie hat that barely contained a mop of wild, auburn hair. To his expert, director's eye, she had the kind of looks that the camera would not love. Too many tiny faults. Yet she had something. Something that made up a stunning whole. And she moved with an effortless grace. Perhaps a dancer in her childhood, or a gymnast.

The sudden awareness of her sensuality was unexpected. He felt his cock stir in his jeans. Irritated to feel lust for a woman he should detest, he forced himself to think of the job in hand. "Tell me, Ms. Parker. What really made you choose La Tourettes as the film location? As you've already said, there are plenty of other villages in the region that we could use. Why this one in particular?"

Laure backed up. His overbearing attitude was beginning to grate yet, niggling at the back of her mind was the oddest feeling he had an ulterior motive for asking the question. A motive she couldn't fathom, except maybe it was the fact that she was a woman. Or maybe he preferred to work with someone a little older. She removed her beanie hat and shook out a halo of almost waist-length curls. Perhaps he would take her more seriously if she looked more professional.

"As I explained earlier," she started. The effort to swallow her frustration made her words staccato'd. "I researched a number of villages across the South-West of France and had a gut instinct with this one. I can't exactly explain it, except that, as soon as I saw this village I knew it would work. It's just as I imagined from the book." It was true. Why couldn't he see that the village was perfect for his film?

"Is that the only reason, Ms. Parker?" His eyes continued to dissect her.

Laure held her ground. "Quite sure, Mr. St. Vignes. What other reason do you think I would have?"

Todd looked her up and down. With her long auburn hair flowing untamed around her face and shoulders she looked younger than her twenty-eight years, and completely different from the woman he had imagined from the personal profile compiled by his executive assistant.

In his mind he'd created a picture of someone more worldly-wise; someone more hardened to the stresses and cynicism of the film business; not the vibrant woman who stood before him. Young, fresh, and brimming with enthusiasm, she evoked images of ancient legends with brave, reckless heroines. And, from the way her cat-like, green eyes danced, she was clearly passionate about her work.

Those eyes could bewitch the coldest heart. Thank god his was made of stone. He weighed her up for a moment longer. Was it a coincidence she had suggested La Tourettes for the film? Or did she know that he had been brought up here, on this very street, and that the non-descript building facing them across the square was the house where his five year-old son still lived? La Tourettes was barely a speck on the map. It would have required a significant amount of in-depth research to locate the village. Somehow, she must have found out and was planning to blackmail him.

He turned away. Too many strange, inexplicable things had happened around him recently that he'd begun to harbour suspicions about all but his closest friends. Laure Parker, with her cute nose, amazing green eyes, and a curvaceous body which no amount of bulky winter clothing could hide, was no exception.

"Go and wait for me back at the car! I'll talk to you later." He strode across the square without bothering to see whether she would comply. He expected nothing less.

Once again, Laure found herself staring at his back but this time her humiliated pride rose to the fore. How dare he be so dismissive? Who the hell did he think he was? She clenched her fists to her sides, fighting the urge to confront him. What did she have to lose?

She unclenched her fists. Everything. Her career, her reputation, her future. After years of working on low-budget films and documentaries, this project was the big break into mainstream films she'd been waiting for. She would be crazy to screw it up just because he was a perfectionist and an ass-hole. She would just have to work harder to find whatever it was he was looking for.

With her long hair bouncing across her back in pent-up frustration, Laure retraced her steps across the square towards the main exit, counting to twenty under her breath. Just as she reached the shade of the covered arches, the excited cry of a child made her stop in her tracks.

"Papa!"

Laure glanced back over her shoulder. A small boy, no more than five years-old, bolted from a doorway and ran headlong towards Todd St. Vignes. It was the first sign of life she had seen or heard in the village all morning, and the child seemed strangely out of place with the ancient buildings and the sense of a previous era that the village evoked.

Intrigued to see if anyone else would appear, Laure sunk back into the dark recesses of the arcades, fully expecting St, Vignes to side-step or brush the excited child away. She was struck dumb, for the second time that morning, when he scooped up the child into his arms and kissed him on both cheeks before ruffling his hair with obvious affection. The next moment, a young woman with long, ebony-coloured hair emerged from the same doorway to greet him. Laure watched them embrace warmly, the child enveloped in the midst of their caress. The woman's wedding ring caught the dawn sunlight.

He was married?

Stunned, Laure held her breath for fear of alerting them to her presence. Nothing she'd read about the famous director, either in the press or on the internet, had mentioned that he had a wife nor, for that fact, a child. Surprise and a sharp pang of guilt squeezed her rib cage. She felt as though she was intruding on a private scene, one that she had no right to observe. Perhaps he'd brought his family along to assess the village as the location of his next film. Maybe that's why he'd come from the village rather than the car park this morning.

When the woman reached up a hand to sweep back the hair from Todd's face, Laure's mind was made up. It was time to leave. She'd seen too much.

# Chapter 2

Laure dropped her rucksack onto the bonnet of her hire car. Where the hell were her keys? On the verge of tipping out the entire contents, she eventually found them tucked into a side pocket, buried beneath her passport, wallet and GPS.

Before she could unlock the door, a firm hand secured her by the wrist. Laure jumped out of her skin. Even wearing thick thermal gloves, the physical jolt of electricity from his bare fingers on the exposed inch of skin between her jacket cuff and gloves caught her off guard. He was so close behind her, she could feel his body heat pressing into her back, and his breath against her ear. Every nerve in her body was alert to his raw masculinity.

"I've yet to discover what your game is, Ms. Parker, but, if you wish to remain in this business, I advise you to keep your mouth shut about what you saw back there. I do not condone gossip about my private life."

Laure straightened her back. He was angry again, which was par for the course as far as she was concerned but was he threatening her? Todd St. Vignes, the famous Hollywood director?

His mouth brushed against her hair and his fingers tightened on her wrist, causing shocks to pass up her arm. "Do we understand each other, Ms. Parker?" he continued, his voice low and dangerous in her ear. "If one word of this gets out to the press I'll know it came from you, and I'll make sure you never work in the film industry again."

Spinning round, Laure recovered her senses. There was no point in lying to him and pretending she hadn't seen them. She was still at odds with what she had witnessed. But she wasn't going to kiss and tell. It wasn't her nature. And now she was trapped between his body and the bonnet of her hire car, his thigh pressed firmly between her legs.

"There's no need to threaten me, Mr St. Vignes," she responded coldly. She drew her head back to increase the space between them. "I understood you perfectly the first time and I wouldn't dream of talking about what I've just witnessed. Your private life is your own affair, and no concern of mine. You have a right to privacy just like anyone else."

"I'm glad you see it like that, but how do I know I can trust you? Wasn't my private life the reason you suggested this village in the first place?" Todd's eyes blazed as he pulled her against him.

Laure frowned. "Your private life? This village? I don't know what you're talking about." She tried to remove his hands from her arms but his grip remained firm.

"Don't be naïve, Ms. Parker! And don't think I'm going to let you leave. I'm trying to decide what to do with you."

"Do with me?" Now he was being an unreasonable ass-hole. Her temper flared. "You turn up over an hour late for an appointment that you made. And now you're threatening to destroy my career, a career I've worked hard to build up over many years. Does it make you feel all powerful to think that you can take it all away from me just because I witnessed something by accident?" she countered. "Hell, if it makes you feel any better, I'll sign a sworn statement to say that I will never disclose what I saw! But there's no need. You can rely on my discretion."

Todd regarded her in silence, his face set as he took his time to consider how best to deal with her. After what seemed like a lifetime he reached a decision.

"You will ride with me," he announced. He released her arms and ran his hand through his hair as though to confirm his choice.

"I beg your pardon?"

"I said "You'll ride with me." Retrieve your things from your hire car. I'll arrange for it to be picked up later. You won't need it from now on. And give me your mobile phone." He held out his hand, expecting her to comply.

Laure snorted. "Are you mad? You can't abduct me in the middle of nowhere. I'm a British citizen." She held her rucksack close to her chest in self-defence.

But Todd was in no mood for discussion. He positioned his body to bar access to her car. "I don't care if you're Chinese. If you don't do as you are told, right now, I will force you into my car. Give me your car keys and phone.

Even though St. Vignes was at least eight inches taller than her and outweighed her by at least fifty pounds, Laure stood her ground. Anger turned her speech into a torrent of words, words that would not stop tumbling from her mouth even when he towered over her.

"For goodness sake, this is crazy. You can hire someone else to scout your damned locations for you because I've worked hard to build up my career. I don't need you to ruin it now just because you're angry with me over something that's not even my fault."

"Angry doesn't even come close to describing how I feel, Ms. Parker. You will ride with me, now." Each syllable he uttered in his strong French accent was forced and his face showed no sign of relenting.

Laure stared at him, confused. He had to be joking? Surely? She looked around her, thinking to call for help but it was no use, there was no-one around. And if there was, no-one in the village was likely to come to her aide. All the brightly-coloured shutters were closed presenting a wall of deafening silence. Her only chance was to try to calm him down.

"Let's try to be reasonable about this. This is just a misunderstanding. I couldn't help what I saw back there, Mr. St. Vignes," she said in her most placatory tone. "I just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time but you have my heart-felt promise that I won't say a word about this to anyone. Please, let's not be rash."

Noting a car pass the exit to the village on the road below, Todd had listened enough. Grabbing her by the forearm, he took a second, larger rucksack from her car, locked the door, and forcibly marched her to his 4x4 located further down the hillside. As they neared the sleek, black vehicle with mirror-tinted windows, it struck Laure that she had not seen him arrive at the village. And hadn't he come from a different direction when he walked up to meet her? He must have arrived earlier. But, if he had, why did he make her wait so long?

She pressed a hand against the hard muscles of his chest, registering the taut, uncompromising bulk beneath his jacket. Involuntarily, her cheeks flamed at the thought of those same muscles naked beneath her fingertips. "Look," she stuttered. "I know you're not inclined to listen to reason right now, but don't you think this is taking things a little too far?"

He backed her up against the car and reached around her slim form to unlock the automatic doors with his remote key fob. His physical contact was beginning to wear on her nerves as much as his attitude had earlier. It was as though, each time he touched her, he was taunting her.

"What do you think you're going to do with me? Have me arrested for seeing you with your wife and child? It's not a crime. At least, not in Europe."

"Get in the car and shut up!" he barked. He wrenched open the passenger door and man-handled her into the passenger seat. She was surprisingly strong but his will was stronger, and very much aware of her feminine form as he forced her into the car.

"This is ridiculous," she snapped, as he slipped the seat belt over her shoulder, fastened it tight, and slammed the passenger door shut. "You need anger management lessons or, better still, therapy! Is everyone in Hollywood as paranoid as you?"

While Todd ignored her to circle the car and climb in the driver's side, Laure frantically ran her fingers along the door to locate the release mechanism.

"You're wasting your time," he growled as he got into the driver's seat. "It's central locking." He put the key card in the ignition, and eased his foot on the throttle. Under his guidance, the car sped effortlessly down the narrow path towards the hairpin road that hugged the rugged mountainside.

"Which hotel are you staying at?" he demanded, his eyes fixed firmly on the route. He drove fast but with confidence.

Laure let out an audible sigh of relief. Thank god. He'd changed his mind and was going to take her back to her hotel after all. She slipped her small rucksack with her wallet and passport into the larger one with her clothes and tried to relax.

"The Hotel de France in Les Pins. And thank you. I promise you won't regret this."

"That remains to be seen. Do you have the number?"

"The number for what?"

"Don't be obtuse. I want the phone number of your hotel!" he snapped.

"Why?"

"Because you've just checked out!"

Alarmed, Laure twisted in her seat to face him. She'd already checked out first thing that morning, but she wasn't about to tell him that. "Please, stop the car. You can't just kidnap me. Where are you taking me?" He picked up speed, increasing her panic. "Please, Mr. St. Vignes. You can drop me at the nearest airport or town. I promise, I won't say a word."

"We're going back to my place."

Laure stared at him. For once, his voice held no emotion and she had no way of second guessing his mood. It scared her. What did he plan to do with her? Only one person in the world knew where she was. And that was him.

She tried the door lock again. "Please let me go, Mr. St. Vignes. I promise I won't say anything. I'll sign a written contract, if you like. Just, please let me go."

"For goodness sake, Ms. Parker, don't you ever do as you are told?" He slewed the car sharp into the verge and pulled both of her wrists in front of her.

Struggling against him for all her worth, she managed to jerk free one hand. The force of the upward motion caught him full on the cheek with a resounding thwack. They stared at each other in mutual shock for what seemed like an eternity, Laure wide-eyed and wary, and Todd fighting hard to control his anger. Until Laure found her voice again. What did she have to lose now?

"I don't care if you are a hot-shot Hollywood director," she yelled in her defence, "and I don't care if I have just ruined my career by hitting you, but you _have_ to let me go. Please Mr. St. Vignes."

"That's not possible." He had to do something to stop her fighting him or trying to escape. Gag her, zip up her mouth. It took only a second for Todd to back up his train of thought with decisive action. Leaning over from the driver's seat, he grabbed her head with both hands and kissed her forcibly on the mouth. And damned if he didn't enjoy it.

Laure froze mid-protest. His lips were firm and demanding, his tongue sure and totally devastating. In a matter of seconds, which seemed much longer, her argument crumbled to dust as she lost herself to the molten mass of emotions that tore through her body like a rip tide. Fuck, the man could kiss.

When he finally drew back, Laure sat rigid, staring glassy-eyed, into the dense undergrowth in front of her, not knowing whether to scream or haul him back for more. Her heart-rate and oxygen intake were way off the scale. No-one had kissed her quite like that before, not even Will, her soon to be ex-husband. Who could know that a tongue could be such a lethal weapon, and his mouth... It took several moments for her brain to reconnect with the rest of her body. The rumours about him _were_ true. Mr. Hollywood Heart Throb was extremely practiced at seducing women.

"What did you do that for?" she demanded, in a state of shock. A sex-tingling ache had taken up residence between her legs and her panties rubbed where they shouldn't. His kiss had kindled sensations inside of her that she would never in a million years have imagined possible from their first meeting outside the village ramparts. But then she had never expected him to kiss her either. Every inch of her was alert to his presence in the steamy confines of the car.

"It was the only thing I could think of to shut you up," he answered. Inexplicably, St. Vignes looked more in control than he had done all morning. He also sported a massive hard-on that was difficult to ignore.

Outraged, Laure opened her mouth to speak. "What the fu...?"

Todd grimaced. He hadn't meant for _that_ to happen but he was sorely tempted to kiss her again. "If you persist in annoying the hell out of me, Ms. Parker, I promise you, I'll do it again, and more!" He showed no signs of remorse as he leaned across the seat towards her again. The way his eyes devoured her mouth and breasts beneath her jacket, left her in no doubt he meant what he said.

Todd watched her emerald green eyes grow wide. What the hell? If kissing her was the last thing on his mind before he met her, now, with her taste and the heat of her lips lingering on his mouth, he was finding it extremely difficult not to pull her onto his lap and resume where they'd left off. The charge of electricity that passed from her body to his had been no mere fluke. He'd felt it before when they'd argued in the car park. But this time, the spark was hard-wired to his cock.

He pulled himself together with a jolt. What the fuck was he thinking of? She might be one of the most stunning women he had ever seen on or off-set but the issue between them still remained. She was dangerous. She knew too much about him. And she was a pain in the ass. He slipped the car back into gear and eased his foot down on the throttle.

Unable to process her reaction to his kiss, Laure said the first thing that entered her head. "Do you make a habit of kissing women to silence them?"

Todd ignored her. It was on the tip of his tongue to say that whenever he kissed a woman she usually begged for more, but he held it back. Hell, this time, he'd been the one wanting more, a lot more. His plan was shot. He had no idea what he planned to do with her, other than drive her to his villa, thirty kilometres from the coast. Was it a wise move? Probably not, but right now he was not in his right mind. He didn't know whether to slap a privacy injunction on her, take her to bed and fuck her senseless, or both. Perhaps reason would return before he reached his private villa.

Navigating the winding, rock-lined roads with speed and precision, the car lurched round a blind bend. Todd quickly assessed the situation. One hundred meters ahead of them, the road was blocked by a large truck. A blue-black Mercedes with reflective windows was parked alongside it. He eased his foot back off the accelerator and checked the rear view mirror as two men got out of the car and gestured to him to stop.

"I have a bad feeling about this," he muttered under his breath. His eyes darted back to the rear mirror to check whether he could reverse. "I was right. We're being followed."

Laure glanced in the near-side mirror. Behind them, a large van bore down on them fast, not as big as the one blocking the road ahead but big enough to prevent them from backing up.

"What's going on, Mr. St. Vignes?" For one crazy moment she entertained the notion that she was an involuntary extra in a scene from one of his action films. His response was not the one she wanted to hear.

"Don't be naïve, Ms. Parker!" All his original mistrust of her had returned with a vengeance,

Slow to comprehend, Laure stared at him, her green eyes vivid. "If this is one of your film stunts, it's in poor taste."

"Surely you don't expect me to believe that you have no part in this deception? Is this why you arranged to meet me at the village?"

"I have no idea what you are talking about. You phoned me to arrange the meeting, remember?"

Todd gave her a full-on cynical look before turning his attention back to the black Mercedes. The two men were almost upon them. "I don't believe a word you say but I guess I'd best do what your friends want. It looks like they're armed."

Laure raised a hand to her mouth to stifle a cry. He was right. Two heavy-set men advanced towards them carrying automatic weapons. If she thought her day had started off badly, it was about to get worse.

"Please tell me this is one of your stunts," she whispered, uncertainty draining the colour from her face.

Noticing her reaction, Todd frowned. Her fear was too real to be faked, especially by someone who wasn't an actress. He tried to collect his thoughts, acutely aware that the woman sitting next to him, the one who had earlier been clawing at him like a wildcat, was terrified out of her wits. "Until we know what they want, I suggest you keep quiet. And try to keep calm. These men could be dangerous."

"Dangerous...?" His talent for understatement drove her to distraction. Before she could argue, Todd silenced her with a restraining hand on her thigh.

One of the gunmen, a sallow-skinned man with a baseball cap and hood pulled low over his face, approached the car and tapped on the window with the butt of his weapon.

"Venez!" His voice was guttural and like Todd's, heavily accented.

"What do you want?" Todd demanded from behind the safety of closed windows and locked doors.

It was only when a third heavy-set man, wearing a well-worn leather jacket and torn jeans, emerged from the back of the Mercedes, that Todd released a loud expletive. Apprehension, like nothing he'd experienced before, forced him to release the button to lower his window. Cold beads of sweat dripped down his spine, even though the temperature outside was near freezing, as he tried to work out an escape strategy.

The heavy-set man drew a thin, black pistol from inside of his leather jacket and walked towards the car. "Get out slowly, Monsieur St. Vignes, with your hands in the air. You're coming with us, the woman too."

"What do they want me for?" whispered Laure, horrified.

Todd kept his eyes on the gunman. "If you're really not part of this charade, do you honestly think they are going to leave you in the car to raise the alarm? You said yourself, you happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time." He undid his seat-belt with a slow, defined movement. "Just follow me and keep calm. If you do something stupid they will hurt you."

"Todd, I..."

Finally, he looked at her. "Just do as they say, Laure, and no-one will get hurt." He released the door lock and eased himself slowly from the car. "Do you think you can do that?"

Bizarrely, a thrill passed through her as she noted his use of her first name. Perhaps their relationship had moved up a notch. Then again, facing a trio of armed men might also have that affect. She grabbed her rucksack and followed suit.

The man nearest to them grunted, "Kneel!" and gestured at Todd with his automatic weapon.

"Oh god, they're going to execute us!" Laure gasped as she stumbled against Todd, needing reassurance.

"Not if you do as they say. Keep calm, Laure." He knelt on the floor with his palms open above his head to show that he wasn't armed. Laure followed his lead with one hand, the other clutching her rucksack.

"Put the bag down on the ground in front of you." The gunman ordered.

Laure hesitated. Reluctantly, she reached out to place the bag on the ground in front of her but took too long. Tired of waiting, the gunman wrenched the rucksack from her hands and tipped the contents of both the small and larger one onto the tarmac to examine them. Her face flushed as the usual feminine paraphernalia, loose tampons, clean and used underwear, a spare bra, old lipsticks etc, rolled around in the dirt. When he finished inspecting her luggage, he tossed the bags to one side and turned to frisk Todd while his companion trained the automatic gun on the both of them to dissuade them from escaping.

"I hope he hasn't broken my camera." Laure hissed out of the side of her mouth as she shoved everything back into the large rucksack. "It's a really expensive one."

Todd shot a look of pure exasperation skywards. "Your camera is the least of our worries right now," he responded bluntly.

Her attention was drawn back to the gun man. He had a point. It wasn't like their abductors would care if her camera was smashed to smithereens.

"It's OK, they're not armed," the gunman shouted over his shoulder to his colleagues. He allowed Laure to stand up before he walked behind her back. "Get back on the floor. Kneel," he ordered.

Irrationally, heat stained Laure's face. How on earth had she ended up in this situation? She was a location scout, not a spy. "I don't believe it. We're going to get shot in the back of the head, in the middle of nowhere, because of a stupid film," she muttered, half to herself, as she knelt down next to Todd. "I wish I'd never accepted this stupid project. So much for ambition!"

"It's not because of the film. It's me they want," Todd muttered.

"You don't say?" she retorted through the side of her mouth. "Because of you, St. Vignes, I'm going to be shot in the head. Well, at least you won't have to worry about your secret family coming to light."

Todd glared at her. "Putain. Keep your mouth shut, you fool. The more they know about me, the more they have to bargain with."

"Oh, and I don't count, I suppose."

"For fuck sake, Laure. This is not the time to argue."

The heavy-set man with the pistol approached. "Put your hands behind your backs," he barked. From his behaviour, it was clear that he was the leader of the group, and probably the most dangerous of the three.

Transfixed by the pistol, Laure stared at him while the other gunman bound their hands then taped their mouths to prevent them from raising the alarm. When he was satisfied that they were both securely tied, he nodded to his colleagues.

The leader lowered the pistol. "We're going to take you to a safe house," he shouted at them. "If you do as you are told, no-one will get hurt. Do you understand, Monsieur St. Vignes?"

Unable to speak for the tape stuck tightly across his mouth, Todd nodded.

They knew who he was. That didn't bode well. It meant that the attack wasn't a random thing. Laure glanced sideways at him. His eyes were shut, and she had no way of knowing what was going through his mind. She prayed he was plotting their imminent escape. The experience of being kidnapped twice in one day, coupled with the early start, had reduced her brain to mush.

"Where are the keys to your vehicle?"

Todd jerked his head in the direction of his car.

"In the car? In the ignition?" The second gunman approached quickly, waving his gun in their faces.

Todd nodded.

"OK. Blindfold them and put them in the back of the car. Yves, you take Monsieur St. Vignes' car and follow us. And no stupid moves. Do you understand? We don't want any accidents, or any reason to alert the police."

For the second time in less than an hour Laure found herself being forced into a strange car with no means of escape, but this time she was bound, gagged and blindfolded. She was aware of Todd being hauled around the other side of the car then he was pushed onto the back seat with such force he ended up face down in Laure's crotch.

Warm breath fanned against the fabric of her jeans, heating her sex and hitching her tension into a different realm. Shit. Having a man bound and face down in one's groin might have been one of Laure's favourite fantasies when hooked up with Bob, her battery-operated boyfriend, but when the man was Todd St. Vignes, and his mouth was gagged, it wasn't going to end up satisfactorily.

She tried to wiggle out from beneath his face but without the use of his hands or room to manoeuvre his legs, Todd didn't have the ability to raise himself to a sitting position. He remained face down, his mouth and nose pressed into the tight, increasingly-damp v at the apex of her thighs, making it impossible for her to ignore how much it turned her on. Ironic really.

What the... It wasn't the time to be thinking about sex. Yet, the longer he stayed face down in her groin, the more she imagined his tongue doing indescribable things. Her hips and stomach muscles moved with a will of their own until, finally, Todd found the strength to manoeuvre into an upright position, allowing Laure to file her fantasy away for future, solitary indulgence.

The car continued to lurch down the mountainside. Trying to memorise the sequence of twists and turns, Laure lost count of the number of times they veered left and right around the tight hairpin bends. The rocking motion, combined with the inability to see where she was going, made her nauseous, plus she was constantly being thrown against Todd. Her wrists were numb from the tightly secured binds, and her shoulders ached with the effort of trying to remain upright.

To focus her mind on anything other than their situation, her thoughts turned to all the things she aspired to achieve. A one-woman exhibition of her photographs taken on location, to name one. And the exotic places, like Machu Picchu and Ankor Wat, that she had wanted to see in a longer lifetime than currently faced her. The realisation that the opportunity to do or see any of them could be cut short at any moment brought her crashing back to reality. As did the thought of St. Vignes and the promising career likely to be cut short. Finally, she wondered how the newspapers might report their demise.

An eternity passed before the car ground to a halt on a long gravel track. The two gunmen got out and walked away from the car. Laure tried to eavesdrop on their conversation but their voices were drowned out by the sound of another vehicle pulling up alongside them. She guessed it was the other gunman, Yves, in Todd's car. She snagged the side of her head against the back seat to lift her blindfold.

Through the merest of slits she glimpsed a rose-clad, single-story villa to her right. Her first impression was that the house was attractive in a homely sort of way but when she tilted her head to the left it was clear that the outside of the property was decrepit, left to overrun, and the windows were shuttered and barred. A holiday home or vacant property? She twisted her neck for a better view but the passenger door opened and she was dragged, still bound and gagged, into the house with Todd.

They were pushed into a room.

"You will remain here until we receive further instructions."

Someone partially untied her wrists.

"The doors and windows are locked so there's no point in trying to escape."

She heard them step back into the hallway and lock the door from the outside and place something heavy in front of it. Releasing her binds, she wrenched the tape from her mouth, removed the blindfold and made a quick scan of her surroundings. The room was lit by a single electric light bulb and all the windows and shutters were tightly secured. The room would have been attractive, with a marble-tiled floor and soft, magnolia-coloured walls, had it been furnished. The only items were a large double bed complete with mattress but no sheets, a single bedside table and dressing table without a mirror. Todd lay on his side on the bed, still bound and gagged. She manoeuvred him into a sitting position then released his hands. When she removed his blindfold there was a large, purple-hued egg on the side of his head, which explained his sluggish efforts to move.

"We must be in one of the bedrooms." She said as his eyes adjusted to the light. "They've left us some food and water...and some wine." Two large multi-packs of bottled water, a bag of oranges, three plastic-wrapped packets of ready-made sandwiches, and several packets of sweet and savoury biscuits stood on the top of a dressing table, alongside a screw-topped flagon of red wine.

"Merlot," she announced, her nose wrinkling with surprise as she unscrewed the plastic cap. "Judging by the amount of water they have left us, it looks like they intend to keep us here for a while. Though I have to say their chef is a little uninspired." She poked her head around a curved archway in the far wall. "Oh, that's a relief". Literally. "There's a bathroom and toilet through here."

Todd ignored her observations. "Do you still have your phone?"

Laure turned round. "I'm not sure. It was in my rucksack when you kidnapped me but the gunman may have taken it when he searched my bag. I'll have to check."

She emptied the contents of her rucksack onto the bed while Todd touched his fingers gingerly to his head wound.

"Do you have your phone or not?" he growled.

"No, it looks like they've taken it. How about you?"

Todd shot her another exasperated look. "Do you think I'd have asked you if I had my phone with me?"

Laure winced. Clearly, he still didn't trust her, and being kidnapped hadn't improved his attitude in the least. He was still in ass-hole mode. She gathered her possessions together and shoved them back into the large rucksack again.

"Well, at least the camera's OK," she announced. "If you distract them I might be able to get a photograph of the kidnappers for police evidence."

The look of scepticism on Todd's face was enough to silence her, almost.

"Well, do you have any better ideas, Mr. Hollywood Hot-Shot?"

The sound of one of the cars driving away brought any further argument between them to an abrupt halt. Todd moved across the room to listen by the door. From the sound of murmuring coming from the hallway, one of the kidnappers had left, leaving the other two behind as their gaolers. Todd crossed to the windows to check the shutters. They were tightly secured.

Frustrated but not beaten, he paced the room like a caged animal. "How long do you think we were travelling for?" He stopped to stare at her. "About an hour-and-a-half?"

Rechecking the windows, Laure stared at him blankly. "I guess. Why?"

"I know the area around here. If we were travelling for just over an hour we can't be more than sixty kilometres from La Tourettes, which means we're still in the mountains."

A million questions buzzed in Laure's head. "I get the why they've taken us but what do you think they want? Money? They haven't said anything yet. And you never mentioned you knew the area. Why were your wife and son at the village this morning? And when did you arrive? I didn't see you drive up. And you kept me waiting."

"None of that is any of your business," Todd responded, quelling any further questions Laure might verbalise.

Miffed, Laure moved to the alcove, intending to search the bathroom. "Don't tell me you still think I arranged all this?"

Todd took off his jacket and continued to prowl around the room, rechecking the door and each of the windows in turn in the vain hope that one of them could be forced. Even if he'd been able to smash the windows there were still the metal security grills on the outside to deal with. Frustrated, he joined her in the bathroom to riffle through the contents of the cabinet above the wash basin. Inside, he found a half-used tube of tooth-paste, an out-of-date packet of condoms, some shower gel and a few basic medical products - plasters, a half-empty bottle of aspirin, and some indigestion tablets.

"I don't know how long they intend to keep us here, or why, come to that matter, but at least we have these." He tipped the contents of the cabinet into the sink. "There's nothing here that might help us escape but the medical supplies may come in handy."

Laure regarded them without enthusiasm. "Oh good. At least I don't have to worry about getting a headache or indigestion. Or getting pregnant!"

Todd shook his head. For someone who had a lot to say, she came out with the strangest things sometimes. Perhaps it was her British sense of humour. Or perhaps she was a tad crazy.

He left her to ransack the bedside table. Once again, he found little of use, except a couple of old t-shirts and a torn pair of shorts. He sat back down on the bed and ran his hands through his hair in a gesture that was becoming familiar to Laure.

"Let's hope your hotel notices that you haven't returned and are sensible enough to alert the police," he said at length.

Laure's mouth formed a grimace.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

She hesitated, debating whether to give him hope or the truth. In the end she opted for the truth. "I checked out this morning. I was planning to spend a couple of days exploring the area in more detail following our meeting at La Tourettes."

As she sat down on the bed next to him she thought of her empty, characterless flat in South London, empty since Will, her husband, had walked out on her ten months earlier to start a new life with one of his female colleagues. Will was one of the reasons why she had extended her stay in France. He had arranged to remove the last of his things from the flat while she was away - the final act of separation before the finality of divorce.

Faced with the knowledge that no-one would miss her and no-one would be concerned at her disappearance, the dull pain and sense of failure she'd felt since the split no longer seemed important.

"Are you telling me that no-one knows that you're here?" Todd asked. His tone was incredulous.

Laure looked away, before he saw the tears clinging to her eye lashes. "Apart from you. No. I don't have any family to speak of and my schedule is so erratic that my friends and agent won't be concerned about me for at least a couple of weeks. How about you?"

Todd let out a long breath through his teeth. "Putain, I don't believe this. No-one knows I'm here either. I cleared my schedule for the next two weeks and my office has instructions not to contact me. They won't be looking for me yet either."

"What about your wife?"

"Wife?"

"The lady I saw you with at La Tourettes?" Laure asked.

"Dominique? No, I planned to spend some time on my own, working on the preparation for the film. She understands how seriously I protect my privacy."

At a loss for words, Laure removed her jacket and stood up to stretch her legs. Without thinking, she picked up a packet of sandwiches from the dressing table and peeled back the cellophane. She hadn't eaten since she checked out of her hotel first thing that morning and the sinking feeling that she'd experienced while waiting for Todd to arrive at La Tourettes had returned with a vengeance.

"Do you have any idea what these men plan to do with us?" She offered him a sandwich. "Ham and emmental."

Todd accepted it. "I suspect they will demand money to release us."

While she sat back down to eat, Laure studied the room. "Well, they certainly knew who you are, and where you would be, so the kidnapping must have been planned. You said you knew this area. Perhaps they have some connection to you?"

Hearing her state the obvious, the questions Todd had successfully quelled earlier, resurfaced with a vengeance.

The lead kidnapper dropped the car keys on the kitchen table and poured a glass of wine from the opened bottle near the dull stainless-steel sink while the others waited expectantly.

He pulled out a chair and sat down. "Whoever the woman is, she wasn't part of the plan. We have to find out who she is."

"We can interrogate her. It might make St. Vignes more co-operative if we rough her up a bit."

"OK."

Todd sat on the bed. There had to be a way out of their current dilemma. But would Laure co-operate with him? They'd got off to a bad start and it hadn't got much better. They'd spent most of their time fighting, apart from the brief episode in the car, when he kissed her, and later, when he found himself face down in her lap in the kidnappers' car, very much aware of her body's reaction to him.

If her story was true, and she was innocent, it was sheer bad luck that she'd been in the wrong place at the wrong time. And she might not have been kidnapped if he hadn't deliberately kept her waiting for over an hour outside the village ramparts. A sharp rap at the door brought him hastily to his feet. He strode across the room to stand behind the door. "What do you want with us? How long do you plan to keep us here?" he demanded.

"Stand against the back wall with your hands over your heads. If you don't do as we say, we'll hurt the woman."

The grating sound of something being moved on the other side of the door had Todd's full attention. Instinctively, Laure hid behind the bed while he remained by the door, his body rigid yet alert as he waited for the kidnappers to come through the door.

"Todd, no," she hissed. The kidnappers were armed. He could get hurt. She prayed that he wouldn't do anything stupid.

It was the silent plea in her eyes that brought Todd to his senses. She was right. If anything happened to him, there was no reason for the kidnappers to keep her alive. He was responsible for her being in the situation and he, alone, was responsible for her safety. He joined her against the wall, standing in front of her to offer protection.

The leader entered first, flanked by the other two kidnappers. He appeared calm, but the other two were clearly agitated as he trained his gun on Todd's chest.

"Get the woman," he growled.

"What do you want with her?" Todd shouted. He stepped forward, using his physical presence as a barrier between her and the kidnappers. "She has nothing to do with this."

The leader gestured to the others to remove Laure from the room forcibly. For the second time in one day, the butt of an automatic weapon hit Todd in the temple, in the same place, same bruise, allowing the kidnappers to remove Laure from the room without further resistance.

"Say goodbye. You won't be seeing each other again," the leader announced. "And no heroics, St. Vignes. We'll be back for you next."

Laure stared at Todd from the doorway, her face pale, as one of the kidnappers forced his pistol hard against her temple. But there was nothing he could do. He had nothing to fight back with. As he watched them drag her away before relocking the door, a seed of doubt formed in his brain. Perhaps it was a bluff. If she was part of the kidnappers' plan, they wouldn't hurt one of their own. They were probably removing her to find out what she knew.

# Chapter 3

Laure sat at the kitchen table with her hands tied behind her back and scanned her surroundings. Just like the bedroom, the kitchen was sparse and grimy with dust. Empty glass jars and rusting tins lined up against the tobacco-stained walls. The work-tops, the cooker, the fridge, everything showed signs of dirt and neglect. The only indication that the house was occupied was a rack of wine bottles underneath the sink. An opened bottle and a half-eaten baguette sat on the table in front of her. For some reason, seeing something of a daily routine as simple as eating and drinking helped to calm her.

"What's your name?" The lead kidnapper demanded as he leant across the table towards her. The other two men flanked her shoulders.

"My name is Laure Parker," she replied. "Why have you kidnapped us?"

The leader ignored her. "What is your relationship to Monsieur St. Vignes?"

Laure frowned. "I don't understand."

"The question is quite simple, Ms. Parker. We want to understand the nature of your relationship with St. Vignes. Sister, girlfriend,...wife?"

The tall, thin kidnapper on her left placed his gun against her temple and drew a line down her jawbone with the muzzle.

She shook her head. "I'm nothing to him. You've got it wrong. I only met Mr St. Vignes for the first time today. I'm working on a film project for him."

The leader stood up and towered over her. "I don't believe you. I'll ask you again. What is your relationship to St. Vignes?

Laure stared. Even though he wore a bandana across his face, the harsh set of his eyes told her he meant business. "I've just told you, I work for Mr St. Vignes. He employed me to work on a film project. We only met for the first time today."

"For two people who claim to have "only just met" you seemed to be more than intimate when we first picked you up."

"What do you mean?"

"Don't play innocent with us. We saw you in the car. You were so occupied that you didn't see us pass."

Were they talking about his kiss? Laure blushed. "Oh, that... That was a nothing."

" _Nothing?_ That's a strange word to use for allowing someone to push his tongue down your throat." The leader threw back his head and laughed. The other two followed suit. The next moment his mood was pure menace. "Please don't waste any more of my time, Ms. Parker. What is your relationship to St. Vignes."

Laure closed her eyes and took a deep breath. With a gun pointing at her head it was hard to remain calm. "I've just told you. My name is Laure Parker and I work in the film industry as a location scout. It's my job to find suitable locations for key outdoor scenes. I was at La Tourettes today to show Mr St. Vignes a possible location for his next film."

"Why should we believe you?"

"Because," Laure's eyes flashed with defiance. "It's the truth. Or would you rather I told you we were hunting for buried treasure?"

He banged his fist on the table, making her jump. "I asked you the nature of your relationship with St. Vignes, not what you were doing there. If you won't tell us of your own accord, perhaps we should try something more persuasive." One nod of his head and the tall, thin kidnapper flicked off the safety catch on his gun.

Laure swallowed hard. Faced with a gun at her head and another pointed at her chest, it didn't pay to be smart-mouthed but she couldn't help herself. "If you do, you won't get any answers."

The cold expression in the lead kidnapper's eyes persuaded her to be sensible. "It's the truth. I never met Mr St. Vignes before today. I'm a film location scout and he employed me to research possible villages for scenes in his next film. Please believe me, I'm telling you the truth."

"So you did not know that Monsieur St. Vignes was born in La Tourettes, or that his son lives there?"

Laure shook her head in disbelief. Suddenly it all made sense. The reason why Todd had been so hostile. Because his wife and son lived in the village. He'd thought that's why she'd chosen La Tourettes. To blackmail him? "No, I didn't."

The leader studied her for several seconds then turned to his accomplices. "You keep an eye on her. I have another phone call to make."

He picked up the car keys from the table and strode to the kitchen door. "And no mistakes, hey?"

His footsteps crunched on the gravel pathway outside. A car door slammed. The next moment, he drove away at speed.

Laure watched the two remaining kidnappers. The shorter, squatter of the two seemed ill at ease. His movements were jerky and he was sweating profusely. Dark patches stained his shirt, seeping from underneath his arms and across his back.

"Please let us go," Laure pleaded. "You have my word we won't say anything."

The taller man, the one called Yves, drew close until he was standing directly in front of her. "Let you go? Why should we do that?"

Laure noticed his fingers were stained brown with nicotine and his breath reeked of stale cigarettes. He also had a serious body odour problem. His soiled clothes stank of urine or something worse. "Because the police will be looking for us," she reasoned. "Please let us go before the situation gets serious."

"You want to persuade me, huh?" Yves placed his hand on her knee. "Would you be nice to me?" His dirty fingers moved higher to stroke her thigh.

Tied to the chair, there was no escape. She tried to jerk herself away but there was no way to avoid his touch unless she tipped the chair over. His fingers crawled all over her skin, working upwards towards her breasts.

Just when she feared the worst, the short kidnapper came to her rescue. He stood up to pull Yves away. "Leave her alone. P will be back soon."

Yves wasn't in the mood to listen. "If I let you go, how nice would you be to me, huh?" To make clear his meaning, he jerked his hips in front of her face to simulate oral sex.

A shudder of revulsion racked her body.

"Stop it, Yves." The other kidnapper slapped him away.

Laure stared in horror as Yves squared up to his colleague but the shorter man was bulkier and more agile. After what seemed like ages, Yves backed down. He walked across to the sink and leant against it, scowling at her.

"How long do you intend to keep us here?" she demanded.

"That depends," the shorter man replied gruffly. He kept his eyes on Yves.

The sound of a car coming back up the drive brought the enforced silence to an abrupt halt. Laure stared at the doorway.

"The plan has changed." The lead kidnapper announced, without looking at her. "Take her back."

Todd sat on the bed. She'd been gone for nearly an hour, an hour during which his imagination had gone from one extreme to the other. The worse thing was not knowing whether she was working with the kidnappers or not. When he heard the car drive off, he convinced himself that she was part of their plot. There was no other explanation for it.

He glanced up briefly as the door unlocked and Laure was bundled unceremoniously back into the bedroom. He didn't meet her eyes but glared as she struggled to untie the bonds, without making a move to help.

"What happened?" he demanded harshly.

"Nothing," she replied, confused by his attitude. "They wanted to know my name and the nature of our relationship."

"Our relationship? You've got to be kidding me." Now she was back, any trust he might have started to nurture was gone. Why had she returned? "We have no relationship, Ms. Parker. You and I are complete strangers"

Stung by his open hostility, Laure turned her back on him and walked over to the dressing table to pick up a bottle of water. Her hands trembled as she brought the bottle to her mouth causing the water to spill down her chin and jacket. She put the bottle down and took a deep breath, forcing her frustration, fear, and fatigue to the back of her mind.

"I know that but they saw you kiss me in the car. They thought I was your girlfriend, or worse still, your wife," she replied, flatly. "I told them that I was working for you on a film project, and that we'd never met before today, but they wouldn't believe me. They kept on asking me over and over again about our relationship." With her composure just about back in place, she turned to face him again.

"Did you get a good look at them? Did they say anything that might give clues to their identity?"

Laure shrugged her shoulders. "One of them, the tallest, is called Yves, and the short one called the leader P." It was plain, from his expression, that Todd didn't believe her. Laure shrugged her shoulders.

"I'm only telling you what I heard," she said as she rubbed her wrists where the binds had chaffed. "I need to pee. And I'm OK, by the way. Thanks for asking." She located a travel-pack of tissues in her rucksack and retreated to the bathroom.

Hell, he was in a mood again. Such a strong mistrust of other people. Something awful must have happened to him at some stage in his life to harbour such a strong dislike of other people. And yet, sometimes she thought she caught a glimpse beneath his mask. There was a lighter side to his personality, a side which he kept hidden from everyone except those closest to him - which was a shame because, when he wasn't being surly or argumentative, he was extraordinarily attractive. His eyes had a luminous quality that made her feel as though he could see right into her soul. And he had a strength that, even though he used it to spar with her, made her feel safe and protected. Just as he demonstrated when he folded his family into his arms for a group hug, back at La Tourettes. Hell, if he wasn't married, she'd be tempted to discover what it felt like to be pressed against his firm, lean body.

"Did you ask them why they have taken us hostage and how long they're going to keep us here?" Todd stood in the door frame, blocking her exit.

Startled to find him so close behind her, Laure jumped. Her nerves were short enough without him creeping up on her. "Of course, what do you take me for?"

He gripped her by the forearms, unaware of the effect his touch had on her through her soft, merino jumper.

"Well? What did they say?"

Laure steeled herself. He was too masculine, too much in her personal space. And, to make matters worse, her body responded to him in ways that it shouldn't. Not even Will, during their rare moments of passion, had induced this wild, heart-fluttering effect in her. She focused her gaze on a non-existent mark on the floor beyond the doorway, knowing just one look at the hard, angular lines of his face and his full lips, and she would throw herself at him, perhaps even try to tear all his clothes off. How ridiculous was that?

"Nothing. The leader left to make a phone call on his mobile. I got the impression he was waiting for further instructions."

"What makes you think that?"

"I. Don't. Know." She took a deep breath and brought her eyes level to meet his as he processed her words.

As insane as their situation was, what she had just said made a weird kind of sense in relation to recent, unexplained events in his life and, even though her attitude was feisty, he realised, from the lack of colour in her cheeks, that the experience had genuinely frightened her. He downgraded his distrust several degrees and dropped his arms to his sides, his body language awkward as he considered whether to comfort her or not.

"I'm sorry. It must have been awful for you."

Laure stared back at him, her chin set. Please, not sympathy. His sarcasm she could fight, she even enjoyed the clash of intellect with him. But pity would push her into his arms. She didn't want him to think less of her than he already did.

"I'll get over it," she replied. "So, while I was being interrogated on the nature of our non-existent relationship, did you find a way to get us out of here?" She went to bustle past him, to put some space between them, but his physical size barred her exit.

Sensitive to her distress, he placed a firm hand under her chin and lifted her head to look at her, feeling her fight him all the way. "Are you sure you're OK, Laure? You seem pretty shaken up to me." His eyes focused on her lips as he remembered her taste.

Laure jerked away. "Please don't be nice to me, Todd. It will only make me cry. And that won't help either of us. I'd rather we focused on getting out of here."

An unexpected jolt of regret passed through Todd's chest. She was unlike any other woman he had known. Fiercely independent, and intelligent, with a strange, quirky sense of humour that took some getting used to, yet there was a fragility about her which struck a cord deep inside of him. She'd told the truth. Either that or she was a damned good actor and, as a director, he had seen enough to know a good one when he saw one. She didn't fit in either category. Something unpleasant had happened to her during questioning, something she didn't want to talk about.

"Are you sure you don't want to tell me what happened?"

Laure shook her head resolutely.

Todd had to concede. It didn't take a genius to realise that if he pushed her even the merest of a fraction she would fall apart. As tempting as it suddenly seemed to pull her into his arms, to enjoy the feel of her soft, curvaceous body moulded against his, she was right. They both needed to remain focused. He ran a hand through his hair.

"OK. I need your help. As far as I can tell, we only have two means of escape - the door and the bathroom window. If we break the bathroom window, there should be enough room for you to climb through. The downside is we risk the kidnappers hearing the glass break."

"OK. What's the second option?"

"The second option is, we rush the kidnappers the next time they open the door. Again, it's risky, two against three, but I'm willing to try if you'll help me."

The sound of voices from the corridor made them start.

Laure figured Todd had already opted for Plan B when he went towards the door and stood behind it. "I prefer plan A," she said quickly. "Your second option is more dangerous. Maybe we could try it if Plan A doesn't work out."

"Get back on the bed. I'm going to jump them when they open the door."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" she asked, candidly. "You may get hurt, after all, they are armed."

One look at his face told her it was pointless to argue. His frustration at being held captive, even for only a few hours, was driving him to desperate measures. Nothing she could say would make him see sense. The only useful thing she could do was to remain calm.

"What do you want?" he shouted through the door.

"Just making sure you are still there, St. Vignes. We'll check on you again in a few hours time." The sound of laughter retreated down the corridor as the kidnappers walked away.

Todd pressed his head against the door. For a several minutes there was nothing but a deafening silence then the loud, rhythmic thump of Euro-rock music, presumably from a radio, suggested that the kidnappers were preoccupied somewhere on the other side of the villa.

When he turned to face her, he had a determined look again. "OK. You win. Let's try Plan A." He went into the bathroom to study the window. Using the cover of music, he picked up a broom handle that he'd found against the wall. "I need your help. Can you grab my jacket?"

Following his instructions, Laure held his jacket against the window to muffle the noise while he smashed the glass with the broom handle. It took two attempts. Jagged shards radiated from the window frame onto his face and hands. As he carefully removed the larger shards of glass, he quickly realised that their escape was still thwarted by a security grill. For a moment, he looked defeated.

Laure's heart went out to him. He was a proud man, used to success. Failure was something he could not accept in any circumstance.

"Is there anything in your rucksack we could use to work on the grill?"

"If you mean, am I carrying a pickaxe or a blowtorch, the answer is no."

He gave her another of his infamous looks.

"May I have a look at the window?" she offered.

Without waiting for him to reply, she stepped into the bathroom. Peering through the remnants of opaque glass, Laure was surprised to note that the sun was going down fast and the air temperature outside the villa had started to drop. Since being kidnapped, earlier that morning, she had lost all track of time.

She hauled herself onto the wash basin to get a better view of the grill. Todd hovered behind her as she balanced one foot on the basin and the other on the rim of the bath. It was hardly graceful, straddled across two different heights, but in a crisis situation needs must. And this, Laure reminded herself, was a crisis.

"Can I help?" he asked. He waited, ready to catch her, noting the way her jeans moulded her hips and buttocks to perfection from his angle, highlighting the folds of her sex.

Laure cast him a glance over her shoulder. He was taller than her by several inches and didn't need to balance on the sink for a better view. "Look, here. The concrete is starting to crumble at the bottom of the grill, probably through frost damage. If we remove the rest of the glass and give the grill a hefty push, it might come free. I'll have to remove my sweater but I believe it's large enough for me to squeeze through."

"Let me see." He lifted her down from the basin and stood on tip-toe to inspect the grill.

Laure tried to focus on the task in hand but his physical contact had left her befuddled. Her heart beat like a drum in her ears. "I think I have a metal nail-file in my bag. Might that help?"

"Let's give it a try."

The sound of movement in the hallway halted their efforts.

"Hey you, St. Vignes."

Laure froze. It was Yves.

Todd dragged her back into the bedroom.

"When are you going to let us go?" he shouted, ready to spring at whoever came through.

"Just checking," Yves laughed on the other side. "You'll find out tomorrow. In the meantime, you have enough food and water, get some sleep. We'll check on you again in the morning."

"Why not now?" Todd taunted. But the hollow echo of footsteps retreating towards the kitchen, followed by the sound of a door slamming shut, made it clear that the kidnappers expected them to settle down for the night.

Todd turned to Laure. She was shaking uncontrollably and her face was white. He took a step towards her but thought better of repeating the circumstances that led her to push him away earlier.

"Let's give them half an hour before we try again. Are you hungry? Would you like something to eat or drink?"

"Good idea." Laure replied. In her mind, she was back in the kitchen with Yves hands pawing her.

"Sweet or plain?"

"Huh?"

"Sweet or plain biscuits. Which would you prefer?" he repeated.

"Does it make any difference? It's hardly a gourmet meal." Her tone was vacant.

"I just thought it would make sense to open one packet at a time." Undeterred, he retrieved the open bottle of water and a packet of sweet biscuits from the dressing table and handed them to her. "Drink. You might feel better."

To hide the visible signs of her legs shaking, Laure sat down on the bed. Resting her back against the headboard, she swung her legs up onto the mattress. Todd joined her, sharing the packet of biscuits she offered until they had eaten half the packet. "We ought to save some for later. You're going to need to take some with you."

Fatigue bearing down on her fast, Laure retrieved a fleece jumper from her rucksack and tucked against the headboard. She shifted onto her side and rested on her elbow to face him. "I know you don't like talking about your private life, Todd, but I didn't realise that your family lived in La Tourettes," she ventured.

"It's not something I like to publicise, for the precise reason we're being held hostage now." The irritation in his voice was clear.

Undaunted, Laure tried a different approach. "I'm trying to make conversation. I thought it might help to know more about each other. But if you'd rather not...

Contrary to her expectations, Todd took the bottle of water she offered and swung his long legs up onto the bed. He rested his back against the headboard alongside her. "Other than my family, what else do you want to know?"

"Tell me about your career. What made you decide to become a director? Was it easy to break into Hollywood? I've worked with a number of up and coming directors on small budget films and they always say its 90% perspiration and 10% inspiration."

Todd laughed, a soft, throaty sound that made the corners of his mouth and eyes tweak upwards in a devastatingly sexy way. "They're right. It wasn't easy. I was lucky enough to have my 10% of inspiration early on; now it's 90% perspiration all the way."

"So how did you start?"

Through subtle persuasion, Todd opened up. He talked frankly about his ambition to become a film director from childhood, and about the first film he was involved in. His route into the film world had been unconventional and, although he glossed over certain parts of his history, Laure recognised that he'd had to fight every step of the way in order to succeed. She was surprised to learn that he'd got his first big break in his late twenties, when he stumbled across a novel by a brilliant but unknown author. It had taken a couple of years to put the financial backing in place, and to recruit the right crew to film the script, but his gut instincts were correct. The film proved to be a massive success. One which opened doors for him in Hollywood.

"How about you? How did you become a location scout?" He twisted sideways to face her, avoiding the suggestion that she had chosen an unusual job for a woman. He knew she would take it as an offence.

Remembering her own first steps into the film industry, Laure smiled. "It's strange but it's something I've always wanted to do. I love travelling and I love the whole process of immersing myself into a script, visualising the locations and then going out and finding them, or near as damn it."

The excitement she felt for her job lit up her face. "I try to match the locations as closely as possible to the author's descriptions though it's not always easy. The logistics and economics of getting a film crew to remote locations is something I have to consider more and more these days, and the impact of the local environment and people. But you know all about that."

Todd smiled back as she continued.

"One of the big budget films I worked on last year was an action-adventure film, directed by Brian Palmer. It was set in Indonesia. After filming, the whole crew - Brian, the actors, the set builders, everyone - we converted one of the ruined buildings we'd used for the film into permanent housing for the people left homeless after the tsunami. That was something special. I loved doing that."

Todd nodded. "I understand. It costs obscene amounts of money to make films these days yet it takes very little to give something back to the local communities. We could always do more to help."

Laure yawned. Her eyelids were heavy.

"Why don't you get some rest? I'll work on the window. I doubt if the kidnappers will check on us now. I'll call you when I'm ready."

Todd awoke with a start. As his eyes adjusted to the electric light, his brain struggled to make sense of his surroundings. He was in a run-down, sparsely-furnished room he didn't recognise and a warm, very soft body was pulled against his chest and groin, his hand gently cupping a bra-less breast through a woollen jumper, and his face immersed in a tangle of curls.

Recognising her warm, feminine scent, his cock reacted on its own volition. He tried to force a level of control on his body but it was hard to maintain especially when she snuggled back into him. Hard-pressed not to touch her, he endured seven shades of hell before she finally came to. She turned over onto her side, bringing them face to face and close enough for him to lean over and kiss her if he dared.

"How long was I asleep?" she asked.

Gently, Todd brushed her hair back from her face. "I don't know. I fell asleep too." Staring into her emerald green eyes, she was no longer the enemy but a vibrant, beautiful and very desirable woman. Exactly when he crossed the line between vengeance and lust he couldn't tell but suddenly the harsh, electric bulb overhead highlighted tiny golden flecks in her green eyes - he hadn't noticed them before. The idea of kissing her took hold of him until he couldn't shake it off. As did the idea of circling her nipples with his finger-tips and his mouth because he'd noticed how they hardened each time her touched her. And yes, he knew without looking, they were hard now.

Cupping her jaw in his palm, he pulled her onto his mouth and ran his tongue across her full bottom lip and then her upper lip, delivering the same delicious sensations in equal measure. She tasted sweet, just as he remembered. He nibbled gently along the bow and worked back to her lower lip again, brushing the corners of her mouth with light kisses. But it wasn't enough to slake the need unfurling inside of him.

He slipped his arm around her back and pulled her closer, delivering more sensual promise through gentle persuasion than his previous kiss. This one was more intimate, a "getting to know you" kiss that hinted at so much more than friendship. Laure's heart-rate hiked as she allowed him access to her tongue while his fingers drew light circles against the narrow strip of bare skin between the waistband of her jeans and her jumper. She knew it was wrong - he was married. Her logic reasoned that their intimacy was a reaction to the stress of their situation, but deep down, she knew it wasn't stress. What they were doing was what she'd wanted from the moment she'd sworn at him outside the village ramparts. The big surprise was, he wanted it too.

Todd deepened the kiss. No longer content with just her lips, his body ached to fill her. She was one hundred per cent tantalising, soft-lipped, full-hipped woman. Her legs were intertwined with his, her hands were in his hair, and her mound pressed against his erection. He moved his hand onto her buttocks, kneading her jean-clad ass as he drew her closer to feel her entire length against his. She felt wonderful, yet it still wasn't enough. He needed to quell the ache in his balls, the ache that demanded satisfaction.

Drawing her thigh over his hip, he pressed her sex against his heavy shaft. Instantly, heat from her core transferred to his cock, igniting his desire until every cell in his body was on fire from her touch. He eased her onto her back, and raised her jumper and t-shirt to cup her breasts. They were small enough and firm enough to fill his palms and the slightest caress made her nipples pucker to tight peaks in the centre of his hand. Unhindered by a bra, he needed to taste them, to hear her soft moans of pleasure. He bent his head and took them into his mouth, laving, sucking and rolling her sensitive flesh between his teeth.

Held captive in a lust-induced fantasy, the image of Todd's wife and child in the village square at La Tourettes popped into Laure's head. It was the last thing she wanted when his mouth was sending lightening bolts of torturous ecstasy straight to her sex and back to her nipples, but guilt tarnished her pleasure. She pushed him away. He was married, for chrissakes. They had no right to be kissing. No right to be embarking on some lurid affair. She bolted across the room to put some distance between them while she struggled with her emotions.

"This is wrong."

Breathing heavily, Todd swung his legs to the floor. He ran both hands through his hair and waited for his body to get back under control before standing up. "You're right. We should focus on getting out of here." His eyes flared, as though he wanted to argue the point. Instead he walked past her, towards the bathroom. "I managed to remove some of the glass fragments earlier. Pack what you can in your rucksack. You're likely to need it if we're still in the mountains," he said gruffly.

Grateful not to have to look at him, Laure picked up her large rucksack and emptied it onto the bed. Shame brought a bitter acid from her stomach to lodge in the back of her throat. She felt sick, shaky, and totally mortified that she'd given in to her baser instincts.

To focus her thoughts, she put to one side items that would weigh her down - extra shoes and trainers, things she wouldn't need - her make up and wash bag - and created a separate pile of items that Todd could use - a towel, spare pen and a sheet of paper, then repacked the rucksack with things she would need once she'd escaped - a packet of sweet biscuits and two bottles of water, a fleece, her camera and passport. She had no idea how long it would be before she could raise the alarm but she made sure to leave enough water and food for Todd.

She entered the bathroom, trying to pretend that, between waking up and packing her bag, nothing had happened. "How's it going? Would you like me to see if I can squeeze through now?"

Todd glanced at her over his shoulder. He had partially succeeded in freeing the base from the concrete and was easing the last of the metal bars of the security grill loose. "I've just got this last bar to free. Make sure you put your coat over the ledge to protect yourself from the glass." He stood back to inspect the jagged edges not realising that his shirt was bloody from numerous cuts on his hands and arms.

Laure covered her mouth with her hand to muffle her cry of distress. "Todd, you should have called me," she exclaimed as she reached for his hands. "Let me dress those cuts for you."

He shrugged. Chastened by her rejection, he had been so preoccupied freeing the metal bar from the concrete that he hadn't noticed the slow trickle of blood seeping into the rolled-up cuffs of his shirt from the cuts on his arms. "I'll be alright. Don't worry. It probably looks worse than it is."

Laure would not be deterred.

"We need to clean you up. You could get an infection with all this dirt and dust around." She tore a strip from the old pair of shorts and ran it under the tap.

Bemused by her officious manner, Todd obediently held out his hands. Her fingers were efficient but gentle, sending waves of heat direct to his groin again, however much he tried to ignore them.

When she had finished she threw the bloody rag into the bin beneath the sink. "There, that's you sorted. Now all we have to do is get out of here."

If anyone had asked her first thing that morning what she planned to do with her evening, holed up in a run-down villa, being held hostage by armed gunman would not have been on her list, neither would making out with Todd St. Vignes. Yet both had happened. She turned her attention back to the window, joining Todd to apply a gentle pressure on the bar until it bent back far enough to allow her to slide through the gap.

"Are you ready? Have you got your rucksack?" He swept the remaining broken glass from the window ledge and recovered the frame with his jacket.

Laure nodded.

"OK, once you're outside I want you to get as far away from here as you can." He held her gaze, his eyes serious. "Be safe."

Guilt washed over her in waves. She wanted to touch his face, to smooth the lines of concern away or, better still, fold back into his embrace but she held off, reminding herself he was off limits.

"I will," she replied.

With Todd's help, she managed to ease herself, head first, across the window ledge and through the gap made by the loose grill. Balancing on the ledge by her stomach, she stopped to check her surroundings. A beam of light, from the open veranda at the front of the villa, lit up part of the garden ahead of her but as far as she could tell the kidnappers remained in the house.

She wiggled forward and prepared to drop hands first onto the ground below while Todd held her ankles. In the darkness, she had no idea of the depth of the drop and could only trust in blind faith that she would not be injured. A large bush of rosemary broke her fall, though she caught her knee on some broken glass as she landed. She stifled a gasp, as a sharp pain shot from her leg to her brain.

"I made it," she whispered. "Can you pass me my rucksack?" She crouched outside the window while Todd retrieved her bag. She heard him swear as he caught himself on a stray shard of glass.

Suddenly she froze. At the front of the villa someone stepped from the veranda onto the lawn. The sound of a match being struck cracked the silence then a haze of cigarette smoke rose up and disappeared into the night air. Laure ducked down behind the rosemary bush as a second shadow broke the ray of light which beamed across the garden.

"Are you ready?"

"No. Not yet. There's someone out here."

Inside the villa, a heavy chair scraped across a floor followed by the sound of a door slamming.

Todd threw her rucksack out of the window. "The kidnappers are on the move," he whispered. "Run, Laure. Try to get help."

Laure froze. "I can't. Somebody's out here."

"You're going to have to take a chance." His voice was urgent. "Just get to the main road and flag someone down. Quick, Laure, run, now. You're our only chance."

The sound of someone hammering on the bedroom door broke her torpor. She had two choices. One, to run as fast as she could towards the road, which meant crossing into the beam of light that flooded the garden, or two, hide in the darkness at the back of the villa and hope that the kidnappers would not find her. At the sight of Yves stepping off the veranda, she chose the later.

As she scrambled through bushes and trees, snagging her clothes, Laure tried to block out the loud shouting coming from the villa. She recognised Todd's raised voice and feared he would do something rash. She made it to a row of conifers at the same time the kidnappers ran out of the villa to search the garden. She darted behind a tree, narrowly avoiding a flashlight beam that swung in her direction. Her knee hurt like hell but her only thought was to get away from the villa, to contact the police for Todd's sake. Perhaps the kidnappers would not consider harming him until they received a ransom.

As soon as the flashlight passed, Laure bolted towards the next line of trees. She almost made it when her foot caught on an uncovered root. She fell, thumping her injured knee hard against the ground. She let out a cry of pain then held her breath hoping that the kidnappers had not heard her. Her luck was out. Alerted by her fall, the kidnappers' flashlights picked her out in seconds.

"Look who I found." It was Yves. In the excitement, he had forgotten to replace his mask and hood. He was uglier than she'd imagined. His long hair was grey and straggling, his nose broken, and a vivid scar ran the length of his left cheek. He hauled her to her feet.

Laure jammed her right foot into his shinbone.

"Putain..." Temporarily immobilised by pain Yves released his grip, allowing Laure to take flight again. But hampered by her knee she couldn't get far. Yves quickly caught up with her again. He pushed her up against a tree, pinning her against the trunk with the length of his lanky body.

"You're going to be really nice to me now. I mean, really nice." The mixture of cigarettes and alcohol on his breath was overpowering and when he covered her mouth with his, she nearly wretched.

"Get off me," she screamed, revolted by his touch. She lashed out with her hands but he was stronger than she anticipated. He secured her arms behind her back, pinned her up against the tree and groped her breasts.

Laure sobbed. The more she struggled, the more determined he became. As he slobbered over her face and neck, his fingers pinched her nipples hard and without mercy. When he forced down the zip of her jeans and tugged at the waistband, the sure knowledge that Yves intended to rape her paralysed her with fear. Baring a miracle, there was nothing she could do to stop him.

"Leave her alone."

Someone dragged Yves away. The sound of a sharp slap as the leader's hand came in contact with Yves' cheek made her cower against the tree, too traumatised to run.

Yves let forth a stream of foul-mouthed French. "What did you hit me for?" He spat out a mouthful of blood and saliva. The right side of his face was streaked with blood where Laure had caught him with her nails.

"You were supposed to find her, not rape her!"

"Why not? She was fair game."

The leader turned his attention to Laure, noting the dishevelled state of her clothes. For a woman of her stature, she must have fought like a tiger to protect herself. But she had seen Yves without a mask and that compromised them and the rest of the plan.

"Take her back to the villa. And do something to shut St. Vignes up. He's going crazy in there. We can't risk someone hearing him."

He pointed his gun at Laure. "Venez, vite!"

# Chapter 4

The moment Laure fell into the room, Todd rushed to her aide. His face was grim, and there was a livid weal across his left cheek. Naturally, he was disappointed that her escape had been foiled but he didn't berate her.

"Are you OK? Did they hurt you?" He lifted her gently to her feet.

"Get back against the wall," the leader ordered.

Todd folded his hands behind his head, his concern for Laure replaced by concern for what the kidnappers might do next.

"Tie them up, "the leader barked.

Todd reacted quickly but, with three guns trained on him ready to shoot, he was helpless to stop them. Laure watched the colour drain from his face, as his arms were bound behind his back. Then it was her turn. Tears brimming in her eyes, she knew Yves took great pleasure in making sure her bonds were extra-tight while his hands roamed where they shouldn't.

As soon as the door closed behind them, Todd threw himself against it, ramming his shoulders against the wood in frustration.

Laure's heart squeezed into a tight ball. "I'm sorry, Todd," she cried. "I did try."

He pulled himself upright and walked towards her, his fists clenched behind his back. "Are you OK? Did they hurt you?" His tone was brusque.

"No, I'm just a little shaken up, that's all." She tried to smile, to reassure him, but her mouth was so dry her lips stuck to her teeth. Five minutes earlier she had been convinced that she would never see him again. The shock of seeing the gash on his head, coupled with her terrifying experience with Yves, made her shake uncontrollably.

He stepped forward until they were touching and encouraged her to lay her head against his shoulder, giving her comfort by nuzzling his cheek against her hair. When he'd heard the shouting in the garden, followed by Laure's terrified screams, his mind had gone into overdrive, imagining her dilemma in graphic detail. He'd already noticed the way Yves looked at her and knew Yves had no scruples in harming a woman.

He kissed her hair and cheek, his mouth soothing her fears until her trembling subsided. It didn't matter that she'd failed to escape. The knowledge that he had put her in serious danger consumed him with guilt. "Do you think you can loosen your binds?"

"No. I'm tied pretty tight. How about you?"

"I managed to flex my wrists. If you could help me I might be able to get loose."

"What do you want me to do?"

"Can you find that nail file you mentioned earlier, or a large piece of broken glass?

It took a long time but, by sheer perseverance, Todd managed to loosen his binds. He quickly threw them off and freed Laure from hers. Still shaking from her ordeal, she threw herself at him and refused to let go, absorbing strength from the solid wall of tight abs and chest muscles.

Eventually, Todd eased back to look at her. "Do you want to tell me what happened out there?"

Laure shook her head, her feline eyes wide and tearful. What she needed, what she wanted from him most of all, she had no right to demand. It was more than he could give. She stepped away from the security of his arms. "I told you before. Sympathy is wasted on me," she blustered. "I'm sorry I messed up. The plan was perfect, except for me."

She crossed to the bed, anxious to put some space between them but Todd saw through her bravado. He crossed the room in two rapid strides and pulled her tight against him. "Tell me what happened out there. Did he...? Did he touch you?" His face was haggard as he studied her face.

Laure dropped her gaze. It would only take one look from those luminous, grey eyes and he would see into her soul. Then he would realise that the demon she fought against was not Yves, but him.

She took a deep, measured breath. "No, not really. He just grabbed hold of me. The lead kidnapper stopped him before he could do anything else."

Todd studied the state of her clothes. Her jumper and t-shirt were torn and dirt-streaked, and there were traces of mud on her cheeks. He didn't need to hear what had happened. To him, it was obvious, and the knowledge only served to torment him. But he needed her to exorcise her fear.

"The truth, Laure," he commanded softly. "Did he rape you?"

She shook her head and stared back at the floor.

"I need you to tell me," he repeated, his voice firm.

When she didn't speak, he placed a hand under her chin and tilted it up. His mouth was gentle, on her eyes, her cheeks, brushing away the tears that fell unheeded. Then his lips sought out her mouth, offering her the solace she needed.

# Chapter 5

The lead kidnapper stared into the darkness, his phone held to his ear. "...kill them? That wasn't in the contract. We agreed to kidnapping, that was all....Well, you'll have to pay double! No wait, one kidnapping and two murders, that's going to cost you treble."

"...Yes, she did see his face but I can deal with Yves. My main concern is how long you expect us to stay holed up with St. Vignes. When do you think you can get here?"

"...Three more days? That's too long. The police are searching for them and they've already tried to escape once. It's only a matter of time before they try again."

"...the day after tomorrow? That's still too long. It's too dangerous. We'll need more money."

Laure stared at the window which had been hastily boarded up from the outside.

"I'm sorry. I was so childish earlier." She stood in the doorway, not daring to look at him. "I'm OK now, really."

Against his better instincts, Todd allowed her to pass without reaching out to comfort her. She was a curious mixture, sometimes refreshingly uncomplicated and, at other times, difficult to read. But whatever she was, she was under his skin. And kissing her for whatever reason - lust, comfort, sheer unguarded pleasure - wasn't helping.

He ran his hand through his hair. "Why don't you get some sleep? There's nothing we can do now but wait. I'll keep guard." He motioned towards the bed.

"Are you sure?" Laure asked. Stress was beginning to break down her resistance. Her voice shook.

"Yes. The mood the kidnappers are in since your escape, I don't want to risk it."

"The woman is expendable." The lead kidnapper placed the car keys on the table and poured himself a small cup of thick, aromatic coffee..

"What do you mean?"

"We've been instructed to kill her. She's seen Yves without his mask on."

His short, squat accomplice shrugged his shoulders. "I agreed to kidnapping but not murder."

Yves joined in. "Yeah, this is crazy. When's the contact going to arrive?" He paced the kitchen floor in a state of high agitation; the scratches on his face crusted with dried blood.

"Another three days," the leader replied.

"That's too long. I say we split now. We can disappear over the border for a few weeks and no-one will be able to connect us to St. Vignes' disappearance."

"The contact is prepared to increase the money?"

"By how much?"

"By another half a million."

"For murder? That's not enough." Yves snapped. "I want out. We've been paid to kidnap them and that's all. I'm leaving."

"You're not going anywhere. You're the one who put us in this situation in the first place. You allowed the woman to see your face."

Laure woke from a troubled sleep to find Todd standing sentry by the door. Her body reacted immediately at the way his lean muscles filled out his jeans and jumper. If only he wasn't married...

"Did you get some sleep?" Her head ached and she had difficulty bending her knee.

Todd turned round to face her. He'd wanted to, but lying next to her would have been too much of a temptation. He didn't know how much longer he could keep a tight rein on his primal instincts. "No, I couldn't sleep. How are you feeling?"

"I've felt better, but I'll survive." She winced as she swung her legs off the bed onto the floor. "I'd better look at my knee. I caught it on some glass when I jumped out of the window."

Todd crossed the room and knelt in front of her. "You should have said something earlier. Do you mind if I take a look?"

His close proximity should have put her on the defensive but the pain from her knee kept her grounded even though his touch sent warm tingles up her spine.

"Ouch!" she exclaimed when she tried to roll up the leg of her jeans. The slim fitting, that moulded her hips and ass so lovingly, would not allow her to push them up further than her shin.

"You'll have to take them off."

Her panicked expression told him that she wasn't keen on the idea.

"You have some spare clothes," he suggested. "Something loose fitting you can change into?"

Laure nodded. "I've got some jogging pants."

"Let's get you into the bathroom so that I can clean up the wound."

Todd picked up a pair of loose fitting pants from the bed and supported her to the bathroom with his spare arm beneath her shoulders. Then he sat her on the rim of the bath and helped remove her jeans. The minute the stiff, blood-soaked fabric slid over her knee, the wound began to bleed heavily again. The dull aching pain made her nauseous. Todd acted quickly to lean her over the wash basin but she still managed to throw up over her jumper and t-shirt.

"Take it easy. Do you have a flannel or something to wash your face?

Laure nodded.

While he disappeared into the bedroom to search for her wash bag, she removed her vomit-soaked clothes, dumped them in the bath and ran cold water over them. The fact that she was half-naked didn't register in her brain, she was working on automatic pilot.

Todd cast an eye over her scantily-clad body and cursed beneath his breath. Just when he thought he had his self-control firmly snapped back in place, temptation, in the form of her curvaceous body, snuck up and tugged at his groin. Then she started to sway. He rushed forward to catch her before she fainted.

"Sit down on the side of the bath. I'll take a look at your knee." He knelt in front of her, placing her hands on his shoulders for support, and studied the wound. It was clean but deep.

"I think you have some glass stuck in there." He tried to avert his gaze from her bare breasts but it was impossible. Positioned directly on his eye level, they were small, taut and perfectly formed, with the sweetest, rosiest nipples that sat up and begged for his mouth to suck them. He lowered his eyes, but that only made his discomfort worse. She wore only the tiniest of black lace knickers, with a huge pair of scarlet lips embroidered in satin on the front to cover her modesty. She was nigh on perfection. Worse still, she felt perfect - warm, and inviting, and soft yet lean in all the right places. He closed his eyes and forced himself to focus on her wound rather than the rapid flow of blood to his cock.

"Yes, here it is. A thin slither. Can you hold still while I try to pull it out?"

Laure closed her eyes and nodded. Her hands tightened on his shoulders. "What did you plan to do with me when you bundled me into your car?" She'd asked the question meaning to take her mind off the pain. It was something that had puzzled her for a while but his hand slipped, causing her to flinch.

"Ouch."

Todd swore under his breath.

"It's alright. It doesn't matter." She stared at him, hoping in some small way to reassure him. "You were frustrated with me for accidently finding out about your family, and you're frustrated now about being kidnapped. You feel helpless, unable to control the situation. We both do. But we _will_ get out of here. I know we will." She had to believe it for her own sanity. She shivered. Finally noticing her nakedness, she covered her breasts with her arms.

Rejecting sexual attraction in exchange for the purest form of human comfort and kindness, he flattened her against his upper torso. They remained in a hug, not daring to move, not daring to breathe, his face buried in her hair for several minutes while they both assembled their thoughts.

Imprisoned within his strong arms Laure fought her own battle. Her skin burned from the warmth of his touch. All it would take was the merest turn of her head for their lips to make contact again. She knew he wanted her. It didn't make it right but it did made their situation so much more bearable. Before she acted on impulse, Todd released her.

"You're right. I behaved like an idiot back at the village. I was so sure you were planning to blackmail me."

She gave an inner sigh of relief. "I understand. And I'm sorry I got us into this mess in the first place. If I hadn't suggested La Tourettes for the film none of this would have happened."

He combed his fingers through her curls. "Don't blame yourself. If it hadn't happened today it would have happened another time. I don't think it was a coincidence that the kidnappers knew I was visiting the village. There have been a number of unexplained incidents at my office and my house in LA. This kidnapping may be connected. Either way, I'm glad you are with me. I would have done something reckless by now." He pulled her towards him again to brush his lips against her forehead. "Thank you, Laure. Thank you for making me see sense."

A noise outside the bedroom door brought them sharply back to reality.

Todd strode quickly to the door while Laure scrambled to the bed to put some clothes on. "How much longer do you intend to keep us in here?"

"Keep your cool, St. Vignes."

"You can't keep us locked up indefinitely," Todd shouted back. "People will report us missing. They'll come looking for us. The police are probably searching for us right now."

As though the power of his words could conjure up help, a helicopter buzzed low overhead prompting a rapid conversation between the kidnappers on the other side of the door. When it passed over head a second time Laure's senses heightened. Something was about to happen.

Laying flat against the alcove wall, she offered a silent prayer as the helicopter swept low over the villa a third time. At the sound of something being shifted in the hallway and the bedroom door lock being release, Todd picked up the broom handle, ready to fight.

Hidden in the alcove, out of sight, Laure heard the kidnappers enter the room. There was a sharp, strangled sound, followed by a sickening thwack. The next moment something hit the floor, a dead weight. Self-preservation lost out to the need to find out whether Todd was hurt. Peering round the alcove wall, she realised he was out cold on the floor, and the fat kidnapper was slumped against the wall making funny gagging noises and clutching his throat.

"What have you done?" she screamed as she rushed to Todd's aide.

"Get back against the wall."

In a desperate attempt to regain control, the leader trained his gun on her but Laure was more concerned for Todd than for herself. Blood flowed freely from his wound into a scarlet pool across the marble floor tiles. If he wanted to shoot her, so be it. She crouched over Todd's inert body and refused to move.

"Get back against the wall," he repeated just as the helicopter took another low sweep over the villa. Panicked, he shouted over his shoulder at Yves, who dragged their injured colleague to his feet and backed into the hallway out of sight.

Laure watched P hesitate. He glanced at Todd and then at her. The sound of a car engine starting made up his mind. He disappeared down the corridor to join the others. Seconds later Laure heard them drive away like fury down the gravel pathway.

The sight of so much blood seeping from the wound on Todd's head frightened her but she had the presence of mind to check for a pulse in his neck.

"Thank God!" she gasped. Immediately her brain flicked into gear. "Todd, wake up," she shouted. "You have to wake up!"

She grabbed the fleece from her rucksack and bundled it under his head as a makeshift pillow. "Todd, can you hear me? Todd, wake up!"

He gave a low groan in response.

She checked his pulse again. It was slow but strong. "Todd, I'm going to give you some water. Can you raise your head?"

She reached up for a bottle of water on the dressing table and raised his head to offer him a drink. The wound on the side of his head was starting to congeal. Slowly he opened his eyes.

"Where am I?" he demanded, his voice thick with pain. He stared at Laure, unable to focus. "Who are you?"

"It's OK, Todd. Take it easy," she urged. "You've been hit on the head. You may have concussion." She tore a strip from one of her t-shirts and doused it with water to clean his wound. The pistol had caught him clean across the right temple matching the bruise on the other side of his head. Gently, she dabbed away from the wound until she could see the full extent of the cut. Fortunately, it wasn't deep, though he would need stitches. Gradually the flow of blood eased.

"Todd, can you sit up?" She stood astride his legs and placed her hands underneath his armpits. Barely conscious, he was a dead weight. She had to use every muscle and every ounce of strength to prop him upright against the wall. His head lolled against his chest and he moaned incoherently.

"Don't go to sleep, Todd. We're going to get out of here." She stood up to catch her breathe then knelt down beside him again. The helicopter had moved away, presumably to chase the kidnappers.

"Todd, can you hear me? I need you to sit upright."

She scanned around for inspiration, anything that would help keep him conscious. Water. That would do it. She picked up the half used bottle and tipped it over his head. Then she stood up, ignoring the adrenaline chasing through her veins, and stepped into the hallway.

The phone on the table by the front door had been disconnected, just as she suspected. In the kitchen, she found the remains of a half-eaten meal. A cheese baguette and three upturned glasses of wine were scattered across the kitchen table. She picked up the bread-knife, as an afterthought, and walked towards the window. Todd's car was parked outside. Great. She could use it to drive him to the nearest hospital. Now all she had to do was find the keys. After a fruitless search of the kitchen, she returned to the bedroom.

"Todd!" She shook him gently and waited for his eyes to focus on her. "Do you have a mobile phone in the car?"

"Ma tête. Je suis blessé," he muttered.

"Todd, I need you to concentrate. Where's your phone?"

He stared at her half-focused, water dripping from his hair, unable to recall her face. "Under the driver's seat."

"Under the driver's seat?"

"Mmhh. Hidden compartment, under seat." His head slumped forward again with the effort of trying to concentrate.

Laure propped him upright and silently prayed for divine assistance. She was concerned that he didn't recognise her. She had to get help. Which meant, she had to leave him. She rechecked his pulse. Thankfully, it was a little stronger.

As she stepped through the front door into the garden, she was confronted by the sweet sound of the dawn chorus. Light was beginning to filter over the horizon, bathing everything in an ethereal glow. After the violence of the last few hours, the beauty of her surroundings seemed at odds with the horror they had experienced.

She approached the car with caution. Fortunately, it was unlocked, though the keys were nowhere to be found. She located the secret compartment underneath the driver's seat and retrieved the phone. Tucked alongside it was a small leather wallet containing an identity card and a driver's license. She picked them up too. No doubt the police would need to see them, plus her own passport and driver's license, when they finally arrived.

Something - curiosity, instinct - prompted her to remove the ID card from the wallet. The picture that stared back at her was Todd's, albeit younger, but the name on the passport was Luc Bestian. So, Todd St. Vignes was not his real name. It was hardly surprising. Most people in Hollywood changed their names for professional purposes. Laure had even considered it herself when she started her career. She switched on the phone and waited for a signal but the area was so heavily wooded that the phone could only be used for emergencies. It was enough for Laure's purposes.

"Police? Je m'appelle Laure Parker, Je suis anglaise," she said in her best schoolgirl French before lapsing back into English.

Quickly she explained about the kidnapping, about the helicopter chasing the kidnappers away, and the need for an ambulance. Not once did she mention Todd by name. She paused to listen. "I'm sorry. I have no idea where we are. I know we can't be too far from La Tourettes....The name of the house?" A sun-bleached sign was just visible on the front of the house.

"Hang on, I'll just check." She scraped away the overgrowing foliage to read it.

"It's _"Valverde_ ". Please come as soon as you can. My friend has been injured. He has concussion and he's lost a lot of blood."

She kept the call brief to get back to Todd. When the police were satisfied that they had enough information to locate them, Laure hung up and re-entered the villa. Todd was conscious, but barely coherent.

"Do you think you can stand up?" She placed an arm under his shoulder and assisted him onto the bed.

"Drink this," she said, handing him a fresh bottle of water. "I've called the police. They should be here soon. You have a head wound. You've lost a lot of blood. I think you're going to need stitches."

"Do they know who I am...?" he muttered.

"No, it's OK. I know Todd St. Vignes isn't your real name. I found your passport."

He stared at her dazed.

"Your real name is Luc? Luc Bestian?"

Todd nodded with obvious effort. "Yes. But who are you?"

"Laure..." She started to explain but he wasn't in any fit state to comprehend. "It doesn't matter right now. Is Luc Bestian the name you want me to give to the Police and the hospital?"

He nodded slowly then sank back into unconsciousness again.

Using her body to support him, Laure propped Todd up against the headboard. She held his hand and caressed his cheek, talking to him the whole time until the police arrived.

# Chapter 6

Laure stood back as the medics lifted Todd onto a stretcher and placed him in the back of the ambulance. The Chief of Police, a solemn-faced man who took his reputation very seriously, had questioned her for over half an hour in a mixture of French and English. He asked her to describe the hijackers, going over and over the sequence of events until she thought she would scream. Her thoughts were centred on Todd and his well being.

"He's lost an awful lost of blood. Do you think he will be alright?" she asked the paramedic attending him.

"He has concussion. We need to get him to a hospital."

She stepped back to allow them to transfer Todd to the ambulance.

"Do you think I could go with him? I cut my knee badly on some glass trying to escape. I'd like to make sure the wound is clean."

Seated in the back of the ambulance, Laure gripped Todd's hand while a paramedic checked his pulse and blood pressure. The nearest hospital was twenty kilometres away, mostly down the tortuous hairpin bends of the mountain road. Throughout the journey Todd drifted in and out of consciousness.

"Where am I?" he asked during a lucid spell. He tried to focus on a blur in front of him. An angel smiled down at him. A beautiful angel with the most amazing, green eyes, fringed with long, dark lashes. Her mouth was full and pouty, and a light dusting of rose tinged her cheeks. Then there was her hair. The gloss and colour of rich chestnuts, it cascaded over her shoulders and down her back. Spellbound by the angel's beauty he wanted to reach out and touch her, to discover whether she was real. But he couldn't move. The stretcher restraints held him fast.

"An angel," he whispered over and over.

Laure tried to mask her concern. From the glazed expression in his luminous grey eyes, he still didn't recognise her. She smoothed the back of his hand. "You're on your way to hospital. You've been hit on the head and lost some blood."

"Who are you?" he murmured as he fought to get up.

"It's OK," she soothed, brushing her knuckles down his cheek. "Is there anyone you need me to contact? Anyone who needs to know where you are?"

"Dominique... Bastian," he rasped before he drifted again. "Number... listed on phone."

Laure took his mobile phone from her bag and found Dominique's number listed under speed dial. The accent that answered sounded just like Todd's. It felt strange to be speaking to his wife. The wife Todd refused to acknowledge all the time they'd been abducted. Quickly, Laure explained the situation, gave the address of the hospital they were being taken to then slid the phone into his trouser pocket.

The medical staff were hyper-efficient. Within seconds of the ambulance pulling up outside the hospital, the back doors were opened and Todd was whisked away by the emergency team. No such chance for Laure. After her knee was cleaned and bandaged, she was escorted to a formal interview room for further questioning by the police.

"What was she doing in France?" "What was her relationship to Monsieur Bastian?" "How many kidnappers?" and "What were their names?"

For two hours she answered the same questions over and over again until, at last, she was permitted to leave, on the understanding that she would be available for further questioning during the remainder of her stay in France. Fatigue washed over her in waves. Outside, in the corridor, the woman that Laure had seen embracing Todd at La Tourettes was waiting to speak to the police. Laure went over to her and held out a hand to introduce herself. "Hallo Madame Bastian, Dominique? I'm Laure Parker."

To her complete embarrassment and shock, the other woman ignored her. Laure quickly pulled her hand back. "Is Todd, I'm sorry, Luc alright? I was with him when we were kidnapped?"

Dominique gave her an ice cold glare. "He was seriously hurt. He's lost a lot of blood."

Confused by her hostility, Laure noted she had the same luminous grey eyes as Todd. She pulled herself upright. Naturally Dominique was worried sick about Todd. Any wife would be for her husband. Laure felt a strong need to explain, to justify what had happened. "I was at the village... Todd arranged a meeting there. We were abducted at gun point."

Dominique cut her dead. "I know what happened, Ms. Parker. The police have already explained. Luc is lucky to be alive, no thanks to you."

Laure drew back as though Dominique had physically slapped her. Did she believe it was Laure's fault that Todd had been kidnapped? Surely not. "Would it be possible to see Luc?" she pressed.

"No," Dominique snapped. "He's under police guard at the moment. Only his immediate family are allowed to see him."

Laure's eyes snagged on the white gold wedding ring on Dominique's finger. If ever anyone could be jealous of a simple, circular band of gleaming metal, she was. Her cheeks flamed. Did Dominique suspect something had happened between her and Todd at the villa? It wasn't far from the truth – at least on Laure's part - but Dominique couldn't blame her husband for the kisses they had exchanged in the villa. Todd had simply reacted to the stress of the situation.

Laure's heart twisted in on itself. She wanted to see him but it was better for everyone if she left well alone, before she made a fool of herself. "Would you tell him I asked after him? I just wanted to know that he was OK." She walked towards the exit.

"You need not concern yourself any further, Ms. Parker. Luc's back with his family. Goodbye."

Standing at the taxi rank outside the hospital entrance with her rucksack at her feet, Laure took stock of her situation. She had no idea where she was, and had no means of transport until another hire car could be delivered. To make matters worse, the only person she knew in France was under 24 hour guard in the hospital behind her and she had been refused access to him by his wife, Dominique.

She took her plane ticket from her wallet. There were still four days before her return flight to the UK. What if she phoned up the airline to change it? She could fly back to London on the next available flight from the nearest airport and get on with her life. Life before Todd. Faced with the dilemma of whether to stay or go, Laure was reluctant to leave. She had promised to be available for police questioning. Who was she trying to kid? She'd already told the police everything she knew. There was no reason for her to remain in France.

Across the road, a neon sign advertising a small, dilapidated hotel winked at her.

"And you never met Ms. Parker before your visit to La Tourettes, Monsieur Bastian?" The Chief of Police sat at Todd's bedside.

"That's right. She was hired to research locations for my new film."

"Do you have any idea why you were kidnapped at that particular location?"

"The only reason I can think of is that I was born there, and my family still live there. But that's not common knowledge. I work under my professional name, Todd St. Vignes."

The Chief of Police checked his notebook. "In her statement, Ms. Parker told us that the kidnappers appeared to know you or at least quite a lot about you."

"Yes, I've been wondering about that too." Todd shrugged his hand through his hair, forgetting the bandage over his right eye. The haziness surrounding the kidnapping was starting to clear and the most lucid memories were punctuated with images of Laure, at La Tourettes, in his car, at the villa, especially of her soft lips and warm, sensual body.

"I swear I've never seen them before. But there have been a number of break-ins at my home in LA and also at the office during the last few months. Several items were stolen, some personal and some to do with my work. More importantly, someone broke into my house in Malibu a few months ago and stole my passport and letters containing information about my son's address here in France. I suspect the kidnapping could be linked to these incidents somehow."

"Do you have any idea who is responsible for these crimes?" the Chief of Police asked.

"No, the LAPD are investigating at the moment. They are following the line that I have a stalker."

"Really? Do you mind if we confirm that with the LAPD, Monsieur Bastian?"

"Of course, I'll give you the name and phone number of the investigating officer."

"Have they interviewed or charged anyone yet?"

"No, not yet. But I believe they have a number of suspects under surveillance."

"And what do you think, Monsieur Bastian?"

"It is possible." Todd shrugged. "Because of my line of work I'm in the public eye a lot, but this is the first time I've been threatened personally."

"What about Ms. Parker? Are you sure she doesn't have anything to do with the break-ins? Could she be your stalker?"

Todd suppressed the image of Laure dressed in her ridiculous beanie hat, with her nose red from the cold, and her glorious riot of curls hanging around her shoulders, then a second one - of the mysterious angel in the ambulance ...Laure again. "No. I'd stake my life on that."

"Well, if you are being stalked, your life could still be in danger. I'll arrange to have security posted outside your room while you are in hospital. We'd also like to move your family to a safe house at least until you return to the United States.

"What about Ms. Parker?"

The Chief of Police pushed his chair back from the bed and stood up. "We haven't ruled her out as a suspect yet."

# Chapter 7

Of course she had better things to do. Returning to London would have been the most sensible option, but she'd chosen to remain in France, in the hotel opposite the hospital where Todd remained under protective police surveillance. Due to the police guard and Dominique's instructions, her chances of speaking to Todd had been non-existent. And now, on the eve of her return to the UK first thing the next morning, she had to try one last time.

She approached the reception desk and smiled at the nurse who had greeted her each day since Todd's admittance. The woman was friendly, and kind enough to keep her updated on his progress but because of Dominique's instruction, she'd not permitted Laure to visit him.

Expecting no different today, Laure shrugged and turned to go. "Would you tell Mr St. Vignes that I asked after him, please? I'm returning to the UK first thing tomorrow morning so I won't be able to visit him again."

The nurse, a motherly figure from Guadeloupe, must have felt sorry for her. She placed a hand on Laure's sleeve to stop her leaving. "The policeman on guard is due to change shift in a minute. If you're quick, you can say goodbye to him. But you'll have to be quick, do you understand? I'll wait outside and keep a look out."

Todd was asleep when she entered his room. Propped upright with pillows, he had livid bruising around his eye where the gun had struck him. His breathing was regular and she could see the pulse throbbing in his neck, just above his naked chest and shoulders. Tentatively, she sat down next to him and reached for his hand, but stopped short of touching him. Instead, she positioned her fingers to interweave with his on the crisp white sheet, as close as she could without contact.

"Hello Todd. I came to say goodbye. I'm retuning to London first thing tomorrow morning. I'm glad to hear that you are feeling better and will be allowed out soon."

Time was short. She could hear the policeman down the corridor, exchanging loud banter with his replacement. On impulse, she leant over to brush her lips against his cheek one last time. "Goodbye Todd. Be safe."

His eyes flicked open. "Laure?" His voice was deep and husky from sleep as he pulled himself upright. His face was stern and the bandage across his forehead gave him a piratical look.

Glancing at the nurse waiting outside the door, she tried to stand up but he held onto her hand.

"Where are you going?"

"I just came to say goodbye. I'm flying back to the UK tomorrow to start another film project that's just come up," she lied.

Todd frowned. "But you haven't finished my project yet."

Surprised, Laure hesitated. "I... After everything that's happened, I didn't think you'd want me to continue."

"Why not?"

"Umm... We didn't exactly see eye to eye over my choice of location. I thought it best..."

"I'm the director. Surely it's for me to decide whether you continue to work for me or not?" His slate-grey eyes narrowed.

Laure stood her ground. "It's my decision too, Todd, and I've decided not to work on your film." Seeing him again, intensely masculine even when confined to a hospital bed, weakened her resolve. She glanced towards the door. The change-over of guard still hadn't happened. She could hear the two policemen talking in the corridor.

"Don't worry. I won't bill you for my time. I'll just put it down to experience." She tried to laugh but the sound got stuck in the back of her throat. She realised that she was on the verge of tears. "Well, it was nice to work with you, Luc, Todd, - whatever your name is," she blustered.

The nurse motioned to her to hurry.

She found the strength to break free of his grip. "Perhaps we'll see each other again one day, at one of those glittering award functions. You'll be there to collect another award for "Best Film" no doubt. I wish you every success with the film."

He reached for her hand again. "Why didn't you come sooner, Laure?" he asked, a nerve flicking in his tight jaw.

Laure steeled herself. "It was difficult. The police wanted to question me about the kidnapping."

The police officer stood outside the door and stared at her. At any moment she would be asked to leave or arrested. How could she explain that his wife had banned her from seeing him?

As the policeman crossed the threshold, Todd looked up, said something in French then turned back to Laure. He studied her face, noting the dark circles underneath her eyes and the unshed tears on her lashes. She was lying. A sudden chill of unease slid down his spine. He didn't want her to go.

"Marry me." The words flew from his mouth before he had time to consider them.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Marry me." His face was devoid of emotion yet the atmosphere in the room crackled and tensed like a taunt spring as he waited for her response.

Laure's mind shot into overdrive. When her brain finally re-engaged, all she could ask was, "Why?"

The same question flashed through his mind too. Why indeed? At this stage in his life he was relatively happy being single, if happiness was something he could ever define. He had a nice home, in LA. Dominique, his sister, was looking after his son while his career was on the up. He could afford to work only on the film projects that motivated him, and could have his pick of the most beautiful women in the world, and frequently did. After the death of his first wife, he'd had neither the time nor the interest in a permanent commitment, least of all marriage. So why did he want to commit to someone he barely knew? Someone with the face of an angel.

"Why?" he laughed sarcastically. "Do you want me to tell you that I can't live without you? How about, you understand the pressures of the film business. And you owe me."

"I beg your pardon?" Laure stared at him, unable to believe his bare-faced conceit.

"You owe me your silence - for my son's safety."

"I hardly think that warrants marriage," she countered. "And haven't you conveniently forgotten about Dominique?"

"Dominique...?"

"Yes, Dominique. The woman I saw you with at the village. Remember?" His insensitivity was beginning to irk her. "Don't you think she might object?"

"Why should she? This has got nothing to do with her."

Laure shook her head in disgust. Of all the arrogant...

Realising he hadn't thought out his argument properly, Todd changed tactics. Earlier, the LAPD had rung to inform him that one of the people they had under surveillance had disappeared. Until they could locate this individual they believed that his life and also the lives of his son, and his sister were in danger. To Todd, that included Laure too. He glanced at the police officer waiting by the door, watching from a discrete distance, unsure whether to interrupt them or not.

"Just hear me out."

"Oh really!" Laure arched one eyebrow. Now he was being a total ass-hole. "Go on then!"

"Because of the kidnapping, we know a lot about each other..."

"And?"

He took a deep breath. "I guard private life zealously, Ms. Parker. If we got married you would be legally bound, under the terms of our marriage contract, not to talk about what happened at La Tourettes, or what you know about my family."

Laure let out her breath in frustration. Did he really just say that? The person she'd worried herself sick about over the last three days? And did he assume that he could throw off one wife and marry another to keep her silence simply because she knew about his son? She snatched her hand from his grip.

"For goodness sake, Todd, I told you I wouldn't say anything. And I meant it." Her cheeks flushed with indignation. "Living in LaLa Land has made you paranoid. And, even if you could, I wouldn't marry you if you were the last man on earth. When I get married, it will be for love not for money."

She headed towards the door.

Todd called after her. "I still want you to sign a contract stating that you will not speak about me or about what happened at La Tourettes to anyone except the police. You understand. I have to protect my privacy and my family at all costs."

Laure pivoted in the doorway to face him. "After everything that's happened, you still want me to sign a contract?"

"It's exactly because of what we've been through that I need you to sign a contract." Confined to his hospital bed, Todd was unable to go after her. "My lawyer will send something through to you by the end of the day."

"You just don't get it, do you Todd?" she hurled back at him, hurt etched on her face. "You don't need a _contract_ , you don't need to _marry_ me, you don't need to _buy_ my silence, and you certainly don't need to _threaten_ my career. I've given you my word. That is my bond."

Todd knew he'd pushed her too far but had to try one more thing. He reached inside the bedside cabinet. "The police found your mobile phone." He held it out in the hope of enticing her back.

Laure shook her head. She no longer trusted him or wanted to spend another minute in his company. "Post it back to me. Your office will have my address on file. Better still, keep it. I'll upgrade when I get back to the UK."

Although the police officer stepped aside to let her pass, he kept his hand on his gun holster.

Laure gave him her haughtiest look. "It's alright, I'm just leaving. Monsieur Bastian and I have nothing more to say to each other."

Todd stared at the empty doorway for a long time after she'd gone. Most women he knew would have given their eye teeth to marry him, and then stung him for money all the way to the divorce courts a few months later in a blaze of media frenzy. He laid his head back against the pillows, experiencing a rare pang of regret. She was right. After everything that had happened, she deserved better than what he'd just offered. He'd fucked up big time and he had to find a way to make it up to her.

# Chapter 8

Back in London, in the sparse comfort of her flat, Laure hunched over a coffee and considered her future. Things hadn't gone exactly to plan in France. Meeting and working for Todd, should have been her big break. Instead it had been a roller coaster ride from start to finish. She persuaded herself that she was grateful to regain some semblance of normality back into her life but the feeling of restlessness wouldn't go away.

The only good thing since returning to London was that she no longer felt the need to beat herself up about the failure of her marriage. The flat, which had seemed so empty without Will, yet cramped before of all his things were removed, now seemed in need of a good spring clean. Perhaps it wasn't so much Will she'd been in love with but the idea of being part of a couple.

She checked the messages on her phone. Three messages - two job offers from her agent, Paul Steadman, and a call from Roy, her make-up artist friend, phoning to find out how she got on in France. She made up her mind on the spot to accept the first of the job offers - to scout locations for a television costume drama set in the Middle Ages. She'd briefly discussed the project with Paul before leaving for France, and the opportunity to research fortified citadels in Eastern Europe was something she could focus her energies on while putting the whole Todd St. Vignes debacle behind her.

The second job wasn't so clearly defined. She would have to speak to Paul in the morning before deciding whether or not to accept it. Roy's message she ignored. She wasn't ready to speak to anyone about what had happened in France. Besides hadn't Todd or Luc, or whatever his name was, made it clear he would ruin her career if she ever did.

She plugged in her laptop to check her emails but was easily diverted. It wouldn't hurt to do a bit of background research on the famous Todd St. Vignes. How could he have callously asked her to marry him when he was already married to someone else? Could she have been mistaken? Perhaps he was separated, or divorced.

The search engine revealed little on him that she didn't already know, but she struck lucky when she typed in "Dominique Bastian", his wife's name. An old newspaper article in the regional French press covered their wedding but there was nothing further to say if they were separated or divorced. In the end, she had to concede that Todd was still married. And she was wasting her time if she continued to believe otherwise.

Her phone arrived by courier 24 hours later, accompanied by a formal confidentiality agreement. Laure stared at the document without seeing a word. She felt angry and also cheated. There was no note, no apology, nothing. Just the phone and the contract. She stood over the waste paper bin and derived a perverse pleasure in tearing the contract into miniscule pieces, then switched on her phone to check the battery. There was one text message.

" _Call me._ "

Even before she recognised the international prefix, she knew it was from Todd. She deleted it without a second thought.

# Chapter 9

Laure was last in a long line of cast and crew waiting to meet the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge following the royal film premier of "The Moreau Files", a film she had worked on the previous summer. Dressed in borrowed finery for the occasion and her make-up courtesy of Roy's talented hands, she had at least ten minutes before it was her turn. She flicked on her mobile to check her messages.

" _Congratulations on the film._ " One month since her return from France, one month without further contact from him, and it was from Todd.

She deleted it without bothering to reply, just as she had his last message. The cold cynicism behind his offer of marriage still hurt more than she cared to admit and she thought about him too frequently to heal quickly from the experience. To receive a text from him now, after four weeks of silence was galling. But it was nothing compared to the surprise that waited for her when she walked into the exclusive after-screening party at the Salton Hotel with Roy, who had also worked on the film.

As usual, they had to push their way through the C-list celebrities posing for the waiting media outside. That they were largely ignored by the press wasn't something that normally bothered her but, after receiving Todd's text message out of the blue, her nerves were on edge. She accepted a glass of champagne from the waitress on the door and glanced around the large ballroom. It had been decorated in the theme of the film. To her right, the leading actors, Nick Berkley and Molly Canterane, were being interviewed by a pack of television reporters. Laure caught Molly's eye and shot her a look of sympathy. Perhaps being unknown to the press had its compensations, after all. Her spirits lifted.

In the centre of the room, the technical crew were in full party mode. Someone had commandeered several magnums of champagne and they were in the process of constructing a tower of champagne glasses. Roy linked his arm through hers and headed over to join in the fun but as Laure reached the centre of the room, she realised her worst nightmare was about to come true.

Over on the far side, surrounded by the British media, Todd stood with Brian Larner, the movie's director. Both men looked distinguished, dressed in dinner jackets and bow ties. Escape crossed Laure's mind but, before she could make a dignified exit, Todd spotted her. He cut through the crowded ballroom, drawing Brian Larner in his wake.

"Ah, there you are, Laure. I believe you've already met Todd St. Vignes." Brian greeted her with the obligatory kiss on each cheek and shook Roy's hand. If he was surprised by Todd's sudden, distracted behaviour, he didn't show it.

He turned to Todd. "You know, Laure did an excellent job scouting locations for "The Moreau Files". She has an incredible talent for interpreting key settings in the script." He watched bemused as Todd cast a cool eye over Roy then turned his full attention to Laure.

She was wearing a flame-coloured, full-length cocktail dress in silk and taffeta, which enhanced the colour of her hair and drew out the colour of her eyes. High at the front, it dipped provocatively down to the dimple in the small of her back just above her ass cleavage. She looked elegant and sexy yet there was a haunted air about her which puzzled Todd.

"Hello Laure, it's good to see you again." His eyes locked onto hers, drawing her towards him.

Used to hearing his French accent, she was surprised to hear an American accent on his lips. Another example of his obsession with keeping his private life secret, she supposed. It didn't stop her heart from rocketing into orbit, though. If he had looked good in jeans and a casual jacket in France, it was nothing to what he looked like now. Dressed in a black dinner suit with a red silk cummerbund and matching bow tie, his powerful masculinity literally took her breath away. She ran her tongue over her lips to ease the dryness that suddenly made them stiff.

"Hello Todd." She shook his outstretched hand aware of the frisson of electricity that passed between them.

Brian watched the exchange with keen interest. When Todd called him two days earlier to request an invitation to the after-screening party, he'd been surprised but immensely flattered. It was a huge accolade to receive praise from a fellow director, especially from one of Todd's stature. However, from the moment Laure walked into the room, it was clear that the Hollywood director had a quite different agenda. The heated glances between the two of them practically barred any one else from getting within ten feet of them.

Brian threw Laure a quizzical look, waiting for enlightenment which she did her utmost to ignore.

"That's very kind of you to say so, Brian. As it happens, Mr. St. Vignes offered me an interesting proposal recently, but I turned him down."

Now, it was Brian's turn to be surprised. No-one in their right mind turned down an offer to work with Todd St. Vignes. His reputation alone had people queuing up to work with him. And Brian knew Laure was ambitious. Surely she would have leapt at the chance to further her career. Yet she said she'd turned him down? There had to be more to the situation than met the eye. He'd noticed her startled rabbit-in-the-headlights reaction when she saw Todd heading across the ballroom towards her. "So, you turned him down, huh?" Brian asked, his tongue firmly in his cheek.

With all eyes on her, Laure attempted a polite smile but managed only brittle. "Yes, the terms and conditions of the contract were too constricting."

She set her chin high as she faced Todd. The only visible sign of their shared ordeal was that he wore his hair longer around his forehead, presumably to cover up the scar on his right temple. She assumed he was due to commence work on the Maquis film at any moment but, as far as she could remember, nothing in the script required a UK film shoot. What was he doing in London, and why was he here at Brian's party looking hot enough to burn a path of coals to her door?

"Are you working in the UK, Mr. St. Vignes?" She steeled herself against his perceptive gaze, unwilling to reveal how much his presence affected her.

"Not exactly, there's a small business matter that I need to resolve." Todd replied, picking up on the open challenge in her eyes. "I plan to be in London for the next few days."

An awkward silence fell between them. Foolishly, Roy blundered into the breach. He held out his hand in formal greeting. "Roy Hawkins. It's nice to meet you, Mr St. Vignes. I worked as a make-up artist on the film."

Todd broke off eye contact with Laure to shake Roy's hand.

"So what did you think of it?" Roy asked.

"Think of what?" Todd replied, his attention distracted by Roy's arm resting on Laure's hip.

"The film?" Roy prompted. "What did you think of the film?"

"Oh, it's definitely the best Brian's directed to date." Todd recovered quickly. "Yes. Congratulations, Brian." He nodded an acknowledgement to his fellow director but his attention was drawn back to Laure. As he indulged in polite conversation, it unsettled him to realise how much he wanted to take her by the arm and draw her into a quiet corner. He had an urge to touch her hair and to feel the softness of her lips against his mouth again but with so many gossip-hungry media people present he knew it would be foolish to court their interest. Besides, he wasn't sure how she would respond. He studied her instead, daring her to accept his silent invitation.

Under his intense scrutiny, Laure faltered. Her heart pounded and her mind reeled. Why did he have the power to affect her so much? He was married, with a wife and child, and could have his pick of any woman in the room if he wanted, so why was he staring at her as if he wanted to eat her whole? She had to get away. If she didn't, it would only lead to trouble.

"Well, it was nice to meet you again, Mr. St. Vignes. I hope you enjoy the rest of your stay in London." She held out a hand to bid him goodbye.

Todd neither lifted his eyes from her face, nor did he let go of her hand. Instead, he leaned closer. "Thank you, Ms. Parker. I'm sure I will. We will speak again later."

Laure swallowed hard. Before she could remove her hand from his firm grip, a honey-blonde woman, with a stunning figure, appeared at his shoulder. She wore a lavender chiffon evening dress with a plunging neckline that emphasised her tiny waist and pert, silicon-enhanced breasts to perfection. Laure recognised her as Heather Dunstone, the model-turned-actress, who had appeared in one of Todd's recent films.

"Todd, darling, I've been looking all over for you. Aren't you going to introduce me?" She pressed her body close to his, deliberately squeezing her breasts against his arm.

For once Todd looked fazed. He released Laure's hand immediately. "Heather, I didn't realise you were in the UK."

"Oh, don't look so surprised, darling," Heather laughed. "I had a break in filming so I came over to London to do some shopping, and to see you." She turned her attention to Brian, tossing her long blond hair over her shoulder to give him a full view of her ample cleavage. "I hope you don't mind, Mr Larner. I'm afraid I gate-crashed your party." she exclaimed breathily.

Brian kissed the back of her hand, unable to remove his eyes from her impressive pair of breasts.

"Enchanted to meet you, Miss Dunstone, and no, I don't mind you gate-crashing my party. Any friend of Todd's is a friend of mine," he gushed. "May I say you look ravishing tonight?"

"Why, thank you." Heather pulled back her shoulders, causing the neckline to strain tighter over her assets. "You know I had to practically beg the designer to let me wear this dress. And I'm frightened to death that I'm going to fall out of it." She pushed out her chest, pretending not to notice that the action drew the fabric taut enough to make her nipples clearly visible.

Laure shifted uncomfortably. Every red-blooded male within a twenty foot radius was looking at Heather, and the actress-turned-model knew it. Laure experienced an irrational pang of jealousy as Heather stared into Todd's eyes and gave him a drop-dead, sex-on-legs smile. So that's what he meant by a small business matter. She had no reason to feel jealous of Heather but the green-eyed monster had Laure in his thrall. At that precise moment, she hated Todd St. Vignes with a vengeance and Ms. "Drop Dead Gorgeous" Dunstone was a close second.

With as much dignity as she could manage, Laure cut across them. "Please excuse me; I was just about to leave. I hope you have a good evening, Mr. St. Vignes. Brian, Ms. Dunstone. Goodnight."

Without stopping to catch the look of surprise on Todd's face, Laure placed a hand on Roy's arm and dragged him into the centre of the crowd, leaving Brian, Heather and Todd to stare after them.

"Don't ask, Roy," she warned, through gritted teeth, as he gave her a quizzical look. "It's a long story and I don't want to bore you."

"Oh, I wouldn't miss this one for the world, babe." Roy teased. "Come on, I'll make time to listen over a glass or two of champagne."

Laure shot him an exasperated look. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Todd watching her and, in turn, Heather Dunstone watching him. Laure knew his expression well. He was angry with her. For a wild, heart-lurching moment, she thought he might come after her, but Heather claimed his arm. It was the final straw.

"Roy, can we leave?"

"Babe, I haven't had a glass of champagne yet and I want to dance."

"Please, Roy. I'll treat you to a bottle of champagne back at my place. Two bottles. Just indulge me and do as I ask."

But Roy feigned deafness. Spotting some friends on the dance floor, he headed over to greet them in his usual exuberant style, leaving her with the choice of walking past Todd to get her coat from the cloakroom or brazening it out on the dance floor. She followed Roy, consoling herself that the disco would provide enough darkness and noise to drown out any rogue thoughts of one insufferable, arrogant Hollywood Heart-Throb.

Out on the dance floor, Roy threw himself into the dancing with unbridled enthusiasm. Seduced by the heavy, pounding beat, he was a good but flamboyant, dancer, leaving Laure to dance beside him, a poor second to the floor show that was Roy - self-professed Disco Diva. When, at last, he dragged her off the dance-floor to take advantage of the free food and champagne in the other room, Laure shrunk into the shadows, preferring to watch rather than be seen. But not for long.

"Are you trying to avoid me?"

The masculine voice at her shoulder made her jump causing the entire contents of her glass of champagne to spill over his jacket.

"Oh, I'm so sorry..." She started. "I didn't mean..." She attempted to brush the beads of liquid from his jacket but the physical contact caused her hands to shake.

Todd gave her a stern look then removed the glass from her hand and placed it on a table to her right. "Come with me."

Contrary to Laure's expectations, he took her by the hand and led her onto the dance floor. As they reached the centre, where it was most crowded, the music changed to a slow, sexy number. His hand flared over her lower back, and his cheek rested against her hair causing heat from his body to ignite tiny wildfires inside her. A voice inside her head warned her to pull away, to kick him in the shins, anything to force him to let her go but Todd drew her close; moulding her body into his as though she was modelling clay. Her breasts pressed against his hard chest and her hips rolled against his.

"Why are you doing this?" Laure demanded. The champagne from his shirt seeped through her dress causing her skin to break out into goose bumps. As if that wasn't enough to embarrass her, her nipples kept rubbing against his jacket, sending clear messages of arousal to her sex and back again.

"How else could I get you to talk to me? You wouldn't return my calls and you've been avoiding me all evening. I couldn't risk you running out on me again." He drew back slightly to look at her, the expression on his face appraising. "You look tired, Chérie. Aren't you sleeping well?"

"Please let me go, Todd." Laure pleaded. "There is nothing more for us to say."

But there was. Her nipples were hard and rubbing into his chest, and her pupils were dilated, making the green of her irises almost disappear. It was obvious she felt the powerful sexual attraction between them as much as he did. Todd intended to find out just how much.

Pressing a leg between hers, he pulled her closer, working against her inner thighs and sex as he guided her slowly around the room. "How about sorry?"

He held her gaze, daring her to look away as his hand caressed the top of her buttocks above her dress. With little likelihood of anyone recognising him under the cover of semi-darkness and the mood of the music, he continued his steady, sensual assault on her nerve-endings.

"Sorry?" she asked.

"Yes," he pulled her back so that his mouth brushed her hair again. "I'm sorry if my proposal at the hospital offended you."

Laure tried to pull away, her green eyes angry. He was practically having sex with her in front of a room full of people. "You're sorry? First you threatened to ruin my career if I ever spoke about the kidnapping, or your family. Then you suggested marriage as a way of keeping me quiet. Do you really think I'm ecstatic to see you again?"

He absorbed her passion, breathing in her delicate perfume as they swayed in time to the music. "I had my reasons. The main one being the safety of my son."

"Is that supposed to make me relent?" she said dryly; her whole body tense with frustration.

He held her tighter, wanting her to acknowledge his body's response to hers. As his hand rested against the naked skin of her back, his mind summoned images of tangled sheets and bodies entwined as one. She had bewitched him, with her strange beauty and feline eyes, from the moment he saw her. After the kidnapping, he'd tried to put her to the back of his memory. He told himself she was a lost cause and he wasn't in the mood for commitment. Yet, time and time again, it was her face that filled his head when he least expected it. The chance to purge her from his system was reason enough to wangle an invite to Brian's party but he hadn't bargained on the tense, sexual chemistry that flared between them the moment he saw her again.

"I want you to understand my motives. But first, I have a question for you. If the offer was still there, would you be interested?"

"Have you lost your mind? Are you so dammed conceited that you can't take no for an answer?"

"Don't play games with me, Laure," he warned against her ear. The French accent was back, low, dangerous and incredibly sexy. "You may say no, but your body is telling me that, right now, you want me as much as I want you."

She was about to remind him that his companion for the evening was Heather Dunstone when Todd's tongue rimmed the inside of her ear. The urge to fight him fled. The gentle tingle of his breath against her neck, the familiar scent of his aftershave, and the sensual sweep of his warm, wet tongue, suggestive of what he wanted to do to her elsewhere with another part of his anatomy, seduced her senses. She allowed him to guide her around the dance floor with less than a piece of paper's width to separate them, breast to hard, unyielding chest, hip to hip and steely erection against soft, yielding womb. Damn, he shouldn't feel so good but he did. Why couldn't he be fat and ugly, with the personality of a pig?

She lifted her head to look at his handsome face. "Is that why you want to marry me?" she murmured, enjoying the sensation of his mouth nuzzling her cheek. A flash of light vaguely registered to her right.

"Yes..."

His lips brushed the soft hollow between her neck and shoulder, causing her heated skin to melt where his mouth made contact. Her barriers down, she moved her mouth towards his, oblivious to her surroundings.

"... for my son's sake," he breathed into her mouth.

Laure stiffened. His words could not have deflated her more had he throw a bucket of iced water over her. She drew back again to study his face.

"For your son's sake?" A flashbulb went off again somewhere behind them, bringing her down to earth with a painful bump.

Annoyed with herself for allowing Todd to get beneath her defences, she chose her time, waiting until they were level with a group of photographers, to nuzzle her mouth against his ear. Someone was bound to take a photograph. To torment him further, she pressed her body against his tightly constrained cock and swayed suggestively in time with the music. She experienced a bitter-sweet moment of satisfaction as she felt his cock swell and stiffen between them.

"Perhaps you should ask Ms Dunstone," she whispered breathlessly in his ear. "Because my answer is still no."

She pulled back, a forced smile stretched across her lips. Her voice was barely controlled. "Further more I want nothing more to do with you. I know the police will want to call us as witnesses against the kidnappers some time in the future but until then please leave me alone." With a resolute tilt of her head, she walked away, leaving Todd to face the press with a very obvious tent in his trousers.

Back at her South London apartment, Laure paced the lounge in her dressing gown and slippers. Dressed for comfort rather than seduction, her fists were tightly balled against her sides.

"How dare he? How dare he?" she muttered, wearing a groove in the well-worn carpet.

The doorbell rang.

Convinced Todd had tracked her down, Laure went to the hallway and stood by the front door. "Go away. I don't want to see you again," she shouted against the back of the wood.

She might as well have been mute. The doorbell rang again.

As she stood behind the door, she wondered whether he was angry enough to break the front door down. Perhaps she should call the emergency services. "Todd, I'm warning you. If you don't leave me alone, I'll call the police."

She could just imagine the newspaper headlines. "Hollywood Director involved in suburban fracas." It was bad enough that they been caught on camera dirty dancing together, but to be involved in something more tawdry, neither she nor Todd could afford that sort of publicity. Not that she would admit that to him.

"Laure? It's me, Will. Let me in, we need to talk."

Laure frowned. "Will? What are you doing here at this time of night?"

"I need to speak to you. Please, let me in."

A whole gamut of emotions filtered through Laure's brain. She stared at the front door, trying to process that it was her soon-to-be-ex-husband and not an infamous Hollywood director standing on the other side.

"Please, Laure. Let me in. I need to talk to you."

Laure stood her ground. What did Will want, and why at this time of night? Against her better judgement, she relented. "OK, but I'd like to know what's so urgent that it can't wait till the morning." She undid the locks and opened the door.

Her first impression was that Will looked awful, as though he hadn't slept in days. He followed her into the lounge, his shoulders hunched. "I'm sorry, Laure, I'm so sorry."

"Sorry? About what?" she asked, confused. Did she have a big magnet on her head that attracted trouble?

"I'm sorry I gave up on our marriage. I made a big mistake. Can you forgive me?" He walked towards her, his arms outstretched to embrace her, tears streaming down his face.

Laure stood rooted to the spot, unwilling to move. She'd had too many shocks for one night and this one was the most bizarre of all. "What happened to Katya?"

Will avoided the look of reproach on her face. "Can I sit down?" he asked sheepishly. He slumped down onto the sofa without waiting for her response.

Laure checked her watch. It was gone midnight but Will showed no inclination to leave. Resigned to a long night without sleep, she sat down beside him. "What's going on, Will? Why are you here?"

He took a deep breathe. Unable to meet her eye, he reached out to touch her hands instead. "I'm sorry, Laure. I made a mistake and ended up hurting the one person I really love. Can we give our marriage another go?"

Laure recoiled. Her life was already too complicated without Will wanting to kick-start their marriage all over again. "I don't understand Will. What about Katya? You left me for her. You were sleeping with her."

"Please don't be cruel, Laure."

From the tortured expression on his face, Laure knew she had struck a raw nerve. She also recognised he was trying to shift the blame onto her to ease his guilt. It was time to be brutally honest. She had tried to ignore the signs that her two year-old marriage was doomed even before his affair with Katya, one of his colleagues, came to light ten months ago but, sitting across the sofa from him now, the reality hit her hard. It was true. Their marriage had been over long before Katya batted her dyed eyelashes at him.

"What's happened? Has Katya left you?"

"I don't know what you mean?" he bluffed.

"Oh, come on, Will. Please don't take me for a fool."

The longer he took to answer, Laure realised her suspicions were correct. Katya had left him, and the only reason he had turned up at her apartment was to salve his wounded, masculine pride and ego. The fact that he assumed he could pick up their marriage as though the last ten months and probably more had never happened, Laure didn't know whether scream or laugh at him. In hindsight, perhaps the reason for his affair was as much her fault as Will's, after all, she'd been away for weeks at a time scouting locations giving him plenty of opportunity to find someone else to massage his libido.

Under the harsh glare of her energy-saving light-fitting, she studied his face intently and found herself wondering what had attracted her to him in the first place. He was totally self-centred. His looks were boyish but in no way charming. And he was completely egotistical, not to mention insane, if he actually believed that she would take him back. Men, she mused bitterly.

"We've split up." Will announced at last. "I... she was only using me to get promoted. I found out that she's going to work for Adam Chandler, the new executive director. No doubt sleeping with him, too." He raised his eyes to look at Laure, his face haunted.

Why was it, Laure mused, that despite his numerous faults, she felt an element of sympathy towards him. He did look pathetically wretched.

"You really do love her, don't you?"

Will remained silent, unsure of what to say.

"Will, it's late and I haven't got the patience or the energy to play games with you right now. Be honest with yourself, if not with me."

He took a deep breath. "I thought we..." He gave her a quick glance, caught the warning look in her eye, and thought better of it. "I'm sorry, Laure. You're right, I do love her. It's just that... I don't want to be alone. I don't know what to do to get her back."

The urge to bite him bubbled up from nowhere. Playing agony aunt to her philandering husband was never part of the job description when she married him but if she was to get any sleep she needed to sort him out and send him on his way.

"Does she know how you feel? Are you sure she's only using you?"

He shook his head. "We had a huge argument two days ago. I said some awful things and she stormed out. She hasn't been back since."

"Do you know where she went?"

"Yes, I think she's staying with a friend. She's taken some time off work. I've left messages on her mobile but she won't answer them. I'm sorry, Laure. I shouldn't have come here. I just needed someone to talk to and I had no-one else I could consider a friend." He gave her a lopsided smile.

Being angry with him was futile. At best, he was an overgrown teenage boy, with all the hormones to match. For once, someone had shafted him. Laure pushed her anger to the back of her mind. "I understand, Will, and I'm sorry about Katya, but I wish you hadn't insulted me by asking me to take you back? Especially when you don't mean it."

Will dropped his chin to his chest. "I'm sorry, Laure. I don't know why I said it. I just wanted..."

Laure glanced at her watch again. "Look, it's getting late, and I have an appointment first thing tomorrow morning. Why don't you go home? I'm sure Katya will come round eventually. But, please, be honest with her. Tell her how you feel." She stood up and tightened her dressing gown belt around her waist. "Would you like me to call a cab?"

"No, it's OK. I'll flag one down outside." He stood up and followed her down the hallway. "I'm really sorry, Laure. I should never have come."

"It's OK. I'm sure things will work out." Laure sprang the lock on the front door and reached up on tip-toes to give him a placatory peck on the side of his mouth as she held the door open. "I'll call you tomorrow, Will. I promise. What the...?"

Standing on the doorstep, with his hand poised to ring the bell, Todd St. Vignes, famous Hollywood director and co-abductee, looked ready to commit homicide. Dressed in his tuxedo, he took in her state of undress - the towelling dressing gown, the ridiculous pink fluffy slippers, and Will's proprietary hands on her hips.

"Todd. What are you doing here?"

His mouth tightened into a thin line as he stared Will down.

In typical macho fashion, Will glared back. It was clear from Laure's defensive stance, coupled with the use of his first name, that she knew the tall, dark stranger on her doorstep. For one, brief moment, he debated whether to intercede on her behalf but the menacing looks coming from his rival persuaded him otherwise. He stepped across the threshold, cutting between them.

"I'm just going." He cast one last curious look at Todd. The face was familiar though he couldn't recall from where. "Thanks, Laure. If you're not too busy I'd appreciate a call some time. For old time's sake."

He gave her an odd sideways glance then dashed down the path to hail the taxi parked outside the door; the same taxi that Todd had arrived in.

Laure's first instinct was slam the door shut in Todd's face but he stepped past her, into the hallway, before she could stop him.

"I would shut the door, if I were you," he said, his accented voice laced with anger. "Or do you want your neighbours to think you entertain all sorts of men in the middle of the night?"

Outraged, Laure threw the front door back open. "I want to you leave. Now. Before I call the police."

Ignoring her protests, he took her by the forearm, swung the door shut then dragged her forcibly into the lounge. His eyes sparked and his mouth was set into a thin, crimson ribbon of disdain.

"Who's the boyfriend?"

"That's none of your business," Laure protested. How on earth had he got hold of her address? Damn. Of course. It was on her CV, the one she had submitted when she had applied for the Maquis film.

"I'm warning you, Laure," he rasped. "You were kissing him. And I'm not leaving until you tell me who he is."

Laure wrinkled her nose. She recognised the look in his eyes. It meant trouble. "If you must know, he's my soon-to-be ex-husband. Satisfied? Now take you hands off me. And how dare you barge into my flat like this."

Jealousy was an emotion that didn't disperse easily. Todd was still angry, frustrated, and, noticing the rapid swell of her breasts beneath her robe, aroused. "You know better than to dare me, Laure. You never told me you were married."

There was no mistaking the steel in his voice as his eyes swept her body, naked beneath the fabric of her dressing gown. He prowled around her like a predator ready to strike for the kill.

"Why should I? First, it's none of your business. Second, I didn't think it was necessary to state it on my CV. You know, like it makes any difference to my professional skills. Third, he's moved on to someone else. We're getting a divorce. And fourth, you're not my keeper."

He caught the glimmer of pain in her eyes and felt the urge to wreak vengeance on the floppy-haired fool who had turned his back on the warm, sexy-as-hell woman standing in front of him, with hair glowing like fire embers around her pale but beautiful face. His eyes narrowed.

"Why don't you go back to the beautiful Ms. Dunstone?" Laure threw back. "Won't she object to you running out on her?"

"Leave Heather out of this!" Todd replied darkly. "It has nothing to do with her. I don't even know why she turned up tonight."

"Don't you? I would have thought that was obvious. She wants you, Todd or Luc, or whatever your name is. So, have you come to bully me into signing your latest confidentiality agreement? Is that why you're here at this hour of the night?"

He gave her a look of intense frustration. "Mon dieu, Laure. Why do you persist in baiting me? Do you get some perverse satisfaction from it?"

Laure's jaw dropped in stupefaction. "I beg your pardon?"

Todd pulled himself back. The fact that she was naked under her dressing gown was too distracting for him to concentrate. He closed his eyes and clenched his fists to control the need to bury himself inside of her. "I came here tonight to apologise. I wanted to explain. I wanted us to start again."

A sense of déjà vu crept over her. Hadn't Will used those same words on her not half an hour earlier? It was as though she was stuck in a recurring bad dream. She sank onto the sofa, holding the edges of her robe together, and waited for him to continue. He looked impressive in evening dress, and the way he wore his hair, sweeping across his forehead in a heavy fringe, suited him. The shameful memory of how she had used her body to taunt him earlier came back to haunt her as he paced the room, tracing the same path Laure had trod less than an hour before.

"I know I've offended you, _again_. But, please believe me, it was the last thing I intended. I..."

Laure stood up, unable to bear the tension. "Todd, please sit down, you're making me giddy." She gestured to the empty space on the sofa she'd just vacated. "Let me get you a coffee or something."

His eyes flashed at her.

"I'm offering you a drink, nothing more." she warned, dryly. "And then you will leave."

While Laure busied herself in the kitchen, running water for the coffee machine, taking coffee pods from the packet, and placing two mugs on the work surface, Todd stood behind her, filling the small, but well-equipped kitchen with his lean, masculine presence. As she moved, he was acutely aware of the way the towelling gown covered her slender form. Suddenly the kitchen was too warm. He removed his neck tie and loosened his collar.

"What did you really think of the film?" Laure asked over her shoulder. It was a trite, throw-away line, provoked by the fact that he was standing too close behind her. If she dared to lean back just a little, their bodies would touch. Did he realise, or was he trying to intimidate her? She turned to face him, fighting an irresistible craving to slide her fingers beneath his open collar.

Todd drew his hand through his hair. "It wasn't what I would consider a masterpiece but it was well done. The storyline was punchy and the twist at the end was worthy of Hitchcock. Brian did well to encapsulate the original bestseller." His expression changed and his hands flew to her forearms as though to shake her. Realising how close he was to kissing her, and that he wouldn't be able to stop if he did, he removed them. "For fuck sake, Laure. I didn't come here to discuss the film."

He took the coffee mug from her hands noticing that she was shaking. It seemed like ages since they were in France, when the initial need to touch her sprung from the need to gain her silence. He held onto her hand longer than necessary, wanting to bridge the gapping chasm between them.

Unable to find her voice, Laure shrugged. She edged past him, trying to avoid body contact, and led him back into the lounge, clutching her mug with both hands to hide the tremors incited by his touch.

When she sat down on the sofa, Todd joined her, leaving a modest gap between them. He stared into his coffee, content to breathe in the mild, roasted aromas, apparently deep in thought. When he finally broke his silence, they both spoke at the same time.

"I'm sorry about the press..." Laure said.

"I didn't mean to..."

Todd exhaled. His simple gesture broke the ice. He slipped out of his jacket and laid it across the back of the sofa.

"Don't worry. I'm sure they have more important fish to fry." He glanced around the room. She had a quirky taste in furniture, no doubt acquired during her travels. The flat was comfortable and homely if not a little sparse. It suited her personality.

"How's your son, or shouldn't I ask?" Laure took a sip of coffee and settled back against the plump, oversize cushions. She wrapped her robe around her knees and tucked her feet underneath her.

Todd sat back and draped his arm draped over the back of the sofa, aiming for casual nonchalance while he fought the thing he most wanted to do - to take her in his arms and kiss her senseless. "He's fine. He's living with me now. In the US."

Laure nodded, watching him over the top of her coffee mug. The whiteness of his dress shirt enhanced his tanned face and neck. Despite her previous protestations about wanting him to leave, it felt good just to sit with him and talk normally. "I'm glad. And the police? Are they any nearer to catching the kidnappers?"

"I spoke with them the day before I came over. They were questioning a number of suspects at present but they're running out of leads. They're satisfied that I was their target and not you."

"You don't say?" Laure rolled her bottom lip between her teeth to stop from smirking. "You know, this would make a fantastic plot for a film, though I doubt if anyone would believe it."

Todd grinned back. Why did she have to be so enticing? She had faint traces of mascara smudged beneath her eyes and her cheeks and mouth were clear of make-up, yet, with her feet tucked up underneath her, she looked half-woman, half-fallen angel, especially with her hair flowing free around her shoulders. And those eyes - they could cast a spell of enslavement with just one look. His head filled with images of Sunday mornings in bed, of eating croissants and jam with sticky fingers until the flaky crumbs got between the sheets; of sharing showers and making love to the sound of the ocean while a light breeze ruffled the curtains. Would she object if he leant over and kissed her?

Dismissing it as a bad idea, he sighed with regret, placed his mug on the table and stood up. "It's late. Perhaps I should leave. We can talk in the morning."

But he lingered, reluctant to go.

The door to her bedroom was ajar. Through the gap he could see the bed reflected in the mirror of a built-in wardrobe, and the evening dress she'd worn earlier hanging on the back of the door. Reluctantly, he forced the image of her lying naked in his arms, from his mind.

Sensitive to his mood change, Laure uncurled her legs and stood up. She would have been happy to talk with him till morning. Instead, she watched him wrestle his indecision, not knowing whether to shake his hand or give him a quick peck on the cheek goodbye. She took a step forward, clutching the collar of her robe tight against her chest.

Just when it seemed he might give her a quick goodbye kiss on the cheek, he wrapped her in his arms and held her in an all-encompassing, protective hug with his head laid against her hair. "Be careful, Laure. You could still be in danger," his voice cracked with emotion.

"Are you trying to frighten me?" She pulled back to search his face. "You said yourself, you were the target."

"I was, but I have a hunch that whoever kidnapped us might try again."

Laure stared, her emerald green eyes wide with apprehension. "Why do you say that?"

He took a deep breath. He had no idea what made him broach the subject, except that he didn't want to leave. And now he had alarmed her. And he wanted her with an ache in his balls that got worse the longer her stared at her. He caught her jaw with his fingers to tilt it upwards and kissed her.

Laure pressed her hands against his chest but the strong, steady beat of his heart against her palm, and his fingers curled around her cheek, prevented her from breaking the kiss. She could barely think straight as his mouth claimed hers, making demands on her lips she found difficult to resist, and when his mouth nudged aside the collar of her dressing gown and slid down the side of her neck to kiss the hollow of her collar bone, and the rise of her breast, she tipped her head back and gave a soft sigh of protest.

Todd pulled away to study her face. Her eyes were closed and her cheeks were flushed with desire. She looked beautiful, and so sensual. A pulse flickered at the base of her throat. He kissed her again. Her mouth was soft and eager, and, when she wound her arms around his neck, her body moulded into his in a way that pushed his self-control dangerously close to breaking-point. He wanted her. He'd wanted her from the moment he first set eyes on her, and nothing was going to stop him. He picked her up beneath the knees and strode towards her bedroom to lay her down on the coverlet.

Parting her robe to brush the naked skin of her breasts and abdomen with his fingers, his mouth followed, exhorting her nipples to tight, puckered peaks. As he knelt over her to blaze a trail of kisses across her stomach and down to the elastic ridge of her panties, he heard her moan. One touch, pressing the lacy fabric against her sex, revealed she was wet for him. He breathed against her goose-bumped skin as he moved lower, to the last of her defences.

In the back of her head, warning bells clamoured. "No," she cried, rising up to push him away.

But Todd resisted her protests. He remained with his lips less than an inch from her panties, looking up at her with his luminous-grey eyes, while his hands persuaded her thighs to part for him and his breath fanned across her sex, turning her insides to liquid fire. "Yes, Laure. You want this as much as I do."

Planting light kisses against her sex through her panties, he eased her back down against the covers. He felt her green eyes watching him as he slipped his fore finger beneath the elastic of her panties at her inner thigh. Holding her stare, he stroked the moist, heated flesh of her lower lips, observing her wide-eyed gaze change from fear to pleasure as she tipped her head back against the pillow and arched into his touch. He warmed her clit with his heated breath. "You're so wet for me, chérie. And so beautiful."

Taking time to build her pleasure, he inserted two fingers deep inside of her, using his thumb to stimulate her tight bud. She was so sensitive, so responsive, she came almost immediately, coating his fingers with her creamy juices. A deep sense of satisfaction pounded through him. That he could make her climax so thoroughly by touch alone salved his wounded soul. Immediately, he craved the power to make her come again.

Before she could regain her equilibrium, he slid back up the bed and nuzzled her breasts with his nose and mouth. Now she was fully sensitive to his touch, he planned to take his time exploring every inch of her body. For him, still fully-clothed, his body on the edge, his needs could wait. He intended to pleasure her with his hands and mouth, with every inch of his body, all night long, until he purged himself of his need for her.

Pausing to flick her nipple with the point of his tongue, he breathed in her scent. Her skin smelt intoxicating. A mixture of sensual woman and wild jasmine, and her taste was sweet. He cupped a breast in each palm and laved his tongue across the tips to increase the aching throb between her legs. The taste she craved, lower down, would come later. But taste her he would because he was going to take his time. Before morning, he would know every inch of her.

Using pain and pleasure in alternate measure, he bit and soothed her breasts until she arched off the bed, towards him. Then he rolled her over to savour the skin covering her shoulder blades, her oh, so sensitive sides, right down to the dimple above her ass where he kissed and nibbled every inch of her buttocks. The thought of exploring the crack between her peachy buttocks with his tongue was a temptation that had the blood pumping to his already hard cock but he resisted. Instead, he rolled her hips to work the same dizzying spell on her front again.

As he kissed and laved between her breasts, his fingers brushing her sides and his erection pressed between her legs, the overload of sensual pleasure made her restless. No longer content to be passive, her fingers reached for the buttons of his shirt. It was what she wanted. It was what she'd always wanted, and what she'd dreamt of each night since returning from France. She slid his shirt down past his shoulders, past his taut biceps and finally, dropped it over the side of the bed. The cummerbund was next to go, and quickly, revealing a surprising set of tight abs. The man obviously worked out. Beneath her exploratory fingers, his butt cheeks were equally firm and biteable. As he pulled up to claim her lips again, his trousers and underpants were the last to go.

Once freed, his cock swelled beneath her fingers. It seemed to incite him as much as it did her. He nuzzled, and sucked, and played with her lips and tongue, his fingers buried deep inside her sex, working her into a sweet frenzy of desire until she lost all sense of time and place. Only the need to feel him naked, to feel him inside of her, her mouth and hands all over his body, guided her thoughts and actions. Her fingers skimmed the ridges of his hard-ridged cock, while she ground her sex against his hand.

A deep growl of satisfaction rumbled up from his rib cage to his throat. "I want to taste you, chérie. I want your juices on my tongue."

Before she could deny him, he slid down her body to remove her panties, then his mouth was on her, his tongue circling the hard, sensitive bud of her clit. Sweet mercy, he was good. He seemed to know instinctively what she needed, where, and when even before she did, and for just the right amount of time. She was a boneless, helpless, puddle of wet orgasmic ecstasy within seconds. Or was it minutes, or even hours. Hell, she'd stopped counting. What that man could do with his insistent tongue was more than anyone had ever done to her before. The man had talent in spades.

She felt him pull back up and reach for a condom from his trouser pocket. He tore open the foil packet with his teeth and slipped it over his erect cock with practiced ease. With one hand prising open her lower lips, he positioned his tip against the entrance of her womb. And then the ecstasy started all over again, from his heated kisses, to his hands on her breasts, and the slow, insistent glide of his cock into her tight, wet centre. He pulled back out, driving her crazy.

"Please Todd. Please don't stop."

He pulled up onto his elbows and lowered his head to watch as his shaft glided effortlessly back into her, savouring the way her sex seemed to swallow him, feeling her internal muscles tighten around him. Languidly, he inched all the way out again, causing her to whimper in frustration once more.

"Tell me what you want, chérie," he whispered, in between kissing her lips.

"I want you, Todd. Now," she gasped. The scent of her sex was on his mouth, and on his fingers that swept through her hair. She cradled his hips between her thighs needing him deeper.

"Do you want me slow and gentle?" He rotated his hips to aid her decision, hitting the spot, the one that had her toes curling and her breath trapped in her lungs. "Or hard and fast?" He pulled out until only his tip was left inside of her them slammed back with rapid strokes.

Primal instinct, coupled with the sensation of him filling her right to her cervix, forced her decision. "Stop teasing me," she growled as she trapped his torso between her legs and flipped him onto his back. "I want you like this."

Her hands pressed down on his chest, as she dictated the rhythm, riding him hard to relieve the tightening in her womb. Todd reached between her legs to rub her clit, forcing her to break her rhythm, then pulled upright to encircle her small, taut breasts with his lips and teeth. Immediately her pace increased and she became more vocal as she took her pleasure from his hard, willing cock.

Each time she came close to orgasm, he refused to let her come, denying himself the same pleasure too. Instead, he grabbed her hips and twisted her face down onto the bed. He slipped a hand down between them. She was so wet, so tight, as his balls brushed her inner thighs. He pulled up her hips and thrust deep. He intended to bring her to orgasm as many times as he could before he gave in to his own. The feel of her body wrapped so tightly around him, was worth every spine-tingling, ball-busting tremor.

Laure cried out for release. There was a moment, as he flipped her onto her back beneath him and entered her again, when their eyes locked. In that moment, she felt his cock stretching her walls, felt the tension tighten in her womb, felt the ripples start to build around his shaft and wanted to let go. Tears sprung to her eyes. Making love to Todd was like nothing she had ever experienced before. More than the fear and terror she'd felt during their kidnapping, more than the desolation she'd carried around with her since. He made her feel whole, as though every cell in her body was centred around his touch, his mouth, his potent cock, lighting up her body with thousands of tumultuous explosions. The past, the future no longer existed. It was all about now. About the powerful emotions his sensitive lovemaking provoked.

"I need you so bad. I'm not going to stop until I make you mine," he promised. Maintaining eye contact, he thrust deep, alternating the depth and angle of penetration, rubbing the base of his shaft against her sensitive clit. He increased the pace, forcing her to feel every throbbing vein of his possessive cock. He kissed her face and neck, teasing her with tight rotations that struck against her g-spot then he pulled out to thrust deeper.

Each time she raised up to meet him, matching his rhythm, his name on her lips, his self-control waivered. He bit down hard on his bottom lip and forced away jealous images of her making love to her ex-husband, to any man. "Mine", "all mine", were the words that repeated inside his head as he came forcefully, shooting hard into the condom.

Even spent, his need for her did not abate. Wrapped in the liquid heat of her tight centre, he was still hard, still full of desire and tangled emotions. And he wanted more. As though, instead of purging his need for her, she'd buried even deeper under his skin.

Not waiting for her breathing to calm, he started to make love to her all over again, slowly, reverently, discovering every nuance of her body. Each time he bit her hip, the inside of her thigh, her breasts or her neck, she felt him take control of her responses, her body, her desires, until her will was completely subsumed beneath his. She hovered on the knife-edge of sexual delirium and ecstasy. He only had to touch her lightly for her to tremble or moan. She felt sated with sex, with his thick, large cock, with his expertise, his unconscious, whispered words, and his dominance.

Unable to look away from his intense grey eyes, she let him see the rawness of the emotions he forced her to feel. Breathing the same breath that filled his lungs, inhaling his strong masculine scent, his sweat-sheened body gliding over hers, she matched him stroke for sweet, orgasm-inducing stroke until they took the ultimate leap together again, clinging to each other for salvation. As his hot seed spurted into the fresh condom for what seemed an eternity, she wished, impulsively, that he wasn't wearing one and that he was impregnating her with his child.

Afterwards, they lay sated and spent, limbs intertwined, as he held her in his arms. Feeling her body snuggled tight into his, her hair falling in auburn waves across his chest, the gentle rise and fall of her breathing in synch with his, Todd felt too exposed to fill the moment with inane words. What had just happened between them affected him profoundly. Afraid to speak, he remained silent, content to trace circles on her smooth, bare skin with the tips of his fingers until they fell asleep.

Laure knew the moment Todd was awake by the sound of his breathing. In the cold half-light of dawn, her fears had resurfaced. Had she really wanted to conceive his child? Or was it simply her body clock ticking away? Was what they had shared a one-night stand or did he expect more? Could she give him more? She felt as though he had reached into her soul while they made love. Did she have anything left of herself to give?

Her panic increased as she studied each fear in turn. They lived in very different worlds. What was she thinking of? Any type of relationship with someone like him was impossible for someone like her. And finally she came back to his obsessive need for privacy. And to his wife and child. Was she prepared to be his mistress for the sake of a few stolen moments? Would she have to vie for his attentions with Dominique and Heather? Would he still want her to sign his stupid confidentiality agreement or did he think he'd bought her silence by making love to her?

She twisted round to face him, her green eyes thoughtful. "What happens now, Todd?"

Oblivious to her jumbled thoughts, he pulled himself up to lean his elbow on the pillow and smiled down at her. "What do you mean?" What he had in mind was a repeat performance when his body was up to it. He grazed his knuckles down the silky-soft curve of her breast then back up to her nipple with his fingertips.

She halted his hand with her own. "I'm being serious, Todd. I'm not a one-night stand kind of girl nor am I cut out to be a mistress. This is all wrong. You should leave."

She withdrew from his arms and stood up, putting some distance between them as she tugged her dressing gown over her shoulders and retied the belt at her waist. She didn't look at him. She couldn't. She didn't trust herself not to slip back into bed, and into the promise of his strong arms.

Naked, Todd stalked up behind her and folded her back into his chest. He nuzzled his mouth against her hair, confused by her abrupt change of mood.

"You know that's not what I want, chérie. Come back to bed." His cock nudged her buttocks, wanting to play. He wanted to make love with her again until his desire was entirely sated.

Laure shook her head, determined. "This is never going to work. I think you should go."

Todd's eyes hardened. "Why shouldn't it work?" he demanded. "Don't do this, Laure. Don't destroy this." He took a pace forward gesturing expansively with his hands but she shrank back against the wall.

Fantastic sex or not, he was still married. "Please go, Todd. I know what you want but I can't give it to you. Go back to Dominique... or Ms. Dunstone. I'm sure she'll be more susceptible to your charms."

Anger, frustration then bitterness flashed across Todd's face. Where the fuck had that come from? One minute she'd been screaming out his name in the throes of orgasm and the next she was rejecting him. Women! He sat back down on the bed and pulled on his underpants and trousers in a fit of seething rage. He stood up to tuck his shirt into his waist band and zipped up, his eyes glaring at her with reproach as he bent to retrieve his cummerbund.

"I'm sorry," she said, her chin held high.

"Not as much as I am, Laure."

He shook his head dismissively then strode to the lounge and picked up his tie and jacket from the arm of the sofa. As he turned to leave a type-written envelope fell from the inside pocket of his jacket onto the floor.

Laure's eyes flew to the letters on the envelope.

" _Confidentiality Agreement" to be signed by Ms. Laure Parker."_

She bent down to pick it up.

Even before he saw her face, Todd knew what she was thinking. He took a deep breath. Fuck, not again. "Laure, let me explain," he said wearily.

Laure stared at the document in her hand then at Todd; the heady passion she felt for him earlier replaced by a familiar slow-burning anger.

"Is there a sign on my forehead that says stupid?" she demanded. "You came here tonight to get me to sign this, didn't you? And you were prepared to go to any lengths to make sure that I did. Even have sex with me." She shook her head in disbelief, tears welling up in her eyes. The cold cynicism behind his charade was too painful to contemplate. "How could you? It's been more than four weeks since the kidnapping. Don't you think I would have gone to the press by now? I gave you my word."

His knuckles were white as he gripped the back of the sofa. What she said was true. She could have gone to the press but hadn't, yet. "Laure, I'm so sorry. I admit I had the contract drawn up for you to sign at the film premier but the moment I saw you again I forgot all about it. I didn't come here tonight to persuade you to sign. I came to apologise. Look, I'll tear it up, if you want, to show you I mean it."

It wasn't enough. The gesture was too late. He could see that. Her eyes, her face, even her body language were closed to him. It sliced him in two. Nothing would change her mind - no words, no kiss, no caress, no public apology. She wanted him gone, out of her life.

She held the living room door open, the gap as wide as the vast emptiness between them. "I'm sorry, Todd. I don't believe you." She held out the agreement.

He took it from her hand and tore it in two, placing the remnants on the arm of the sofa.

"I'm sorry too, Laure." Without giving her a further glance, he slipped on his jacket, stuffed his tie into his pocket and strode down the hallway, closing the front door behind him to disappear into the night.

# Chapter 10

Todd stared out of the window of his hotel suite overlooking Hyde Park. Since the early hours of the morning, Laure had steadfastly refused to pick up his calls or respond to his text messages. In the end, he had to concede that it was probably for the best. He would be starting work on the Maquis film soon, which would keep him occupied for the best part of the next twelve months. He would ill afford any distractions. Besides, she didn't want him. She'd made that plain enough.

His bags were packed and ready by the door for the porter to remove yet his eyes were drawn back to the envelope marked "private and confidential" on the coffee table. It had arrived in the morning post; along with his complimentary newspapers. At first Todd had thought it was a joke from Brian Larner. Inside was a newspaper article detailing his "big" night out in London. Innocent enough at first glance but he soon realised the anonymous sender had a more sinister intent. The photograph of him dancing with Laure had been defaced; her face cut out of the picture.

His hand hovered over his mobile phone. Should he warn her and risk alienating her even further? As he pondered the obvious threat to her life, a glimmer of an idea formed in his head. Perhaps there was way to keep a discrete eye on her without Laure finding out. For the first time since leaving her apartment, a smile broke across his face as he punched the number. The recipient picked up on the second ring.

"Hey Jono, it's Todd. I need to call in a favour. ... Great. How about dinner at my place Friday night?...Around seven p.m.?...I'll explain everything to you then. OK, I'll see you Friday. Bye!"

Closing the call, he made one last attempt to reach her.

The sound of her mobile phone ringing in her handbag forced Laure out of bed. Disorientated, and sore in places she should have expected, she picked up the phone to check the caller id before answering.

"Hi Sweetie, you know that long story you were supposed to tell me last night? Well, it just got longer. Have you seen the newspapers yet?"

"Roy? What are you talking about?" The first twinges of a headache hit the back of her eyes.

"I'd get hold of a newspaper, if I were you. And wear dark glasses and a floppy hat when you go out. You've just been elevated to celebrity status. I'll call you again later, when you've got over the shock. Bye babe."

Laure picked up a newspaper from the tube station on her way to a meeting with her agent. She didn't have to look further than the front page to see what Roy was talking about. There, in full colour, was a picture of her and Todd in an intimate pose on the dance floor.

The headline screamed off the page at her.

" _Hollywood Producer's Big Night Out"_

She scanned the text.

" _Todd St. Vignes, Hollywood's hottest new director, breezed into the West End last night to attend the star-studded film premier of "The Moreau Files", Brian Larner's new blockbuster. St. Vignes, pictured here with Laure Parker, a behind-the-scenes location scout, arrived at the exclusive after-film party with Heather Dunstone, his on-off love interest of several months, but soon ditched the divine Ms D in favour of the less obvious charms of Ms. Parker."_

Laure winced.

" _Friends of the Hollywood "A-list" couple were reportedly stunned when St. Vignes retired from the party early, apparently in hot pursuit of his latest conquest, leaving the fragrant Ms D to seek solace in the arms of St. Vignes' close friend and fellow director, Brian Larner."_

" _It is rumoured that St. Vignes, who is due to start work on his next film, a Second World War epic about the French Resistance, met Ms. Parker while researching locations for his latest project. Judging from their intimate pose, this will be sad news for Ms Dunstone indeed. She had been hotly tipped to marry the rising Hollywood director in the coming year."_

Before she could finish the article, Laure's mobile phone rang.

"Ms. Parker? Bruce Foster, London Times. Would you care to comment on your relationship with Todd St. Vignes?"

Horrified, Laure switched off her phone and thrust it back into her handbag. How could the media have tracked her down so quickly? She thought back to the previous evening. What on earth had possessed her to behave like a blatant tease in front of the press just to get her own back on Todd? Was it any wonder the media were interested? As far as they were concerned, it was the classic Cinderella story. Todd was a famous movie director and she, as the article had so plainly hinted at, was an unknown.

"This is ridiculous." Her phone had just rung for the twentieth time in as many minutes. "What should I do, Paul? I've never been in the media spotlight before. I can understand now why celebrities find it so intrusive." She perched on the edge of his desk, on the only clear space that was not covered in scripts piled three folders deep.

Paul Steadman, her agent, looked up from his computer screen. He was a tall, wiry man with gold half-glasses perched on the end of his thin angular nose. He was also notoriously uninterested in the detritus of human relationships.

"Unless you want to go public and earn yourself some quick cash, the answer, my dear, is two things. One, get a new phone and two, focus on your work. How do you fancy researching locations for a new script that arrived on my desk first thing this morning? I hear Tunisia is wonderful this time of year." He dug out a folder from beneath the pile of bills and business correspondence and handed it to Laure before returning to his computer screen.

"Tunisia? Do you know who the director is?" She flicked the folder open and read the first few lines.

"No, it's only just come in. The letter said it was for a new television series." Paul peered at her across the top of his glasses. "Do you want me to find out?"

Laure's phone bleeped again. This time she recognised the number immediately. Fuck, St. Vignes. It was his fault for putting her in this situation in the first place. She switched off her phone.

"Well? Do you want this job or not?" Paul cut across her thoughts. "You'll have to move quick if you do. I understand that the film company has sent the brief out to a number of agencies."

"Yeah, but everyone knows I'm the best," she quipped as she swung her legs to slide off the desk. "I'd like to know who the director is before I accept. Do you think you could buy me some time while I read the script?"

"Sure, you can have as much time as you like, my dear; as long as I have your decision first thing tomorrow morning."

"You'll have it earlier if you can find out who the director is."

As she picked up her fake Fendi hand bag, Paul spotted the newspaper sticking out of top. He'd already read the article before she arrived at his West End office. For once in his long, solitary life, he decided to break one of his cardinal rules - not to interfere in other people's lives. He had represented Laure since she first entered the business fresh out of university and nurtured a fatherly interest in her well-being.

"Listen, I don't know what's been going on between you and Todd St. Vignes since your little excursion to France." He held his hand up as she started to protest. "... and I don't want to know either, but, in the words of an old wise man, be careful. You can't afford to make enemies in this business, particularly someone as powerful as Todd St. Vignes. He could make or break your career, sweet-pea."

Laure grimaced. It annoyed her to think that Todd could have any kind of hold on her. The same thought nagged at her conscience all the way home. She dropped her keys on the hallway table, unplugged the phone and ran a hot bath, taking the script out of its folder to read while she soaked.

Shoulder-deep in the steaming hot water, the soothing bubbles did the trick. Laure relaxed and immersed herself into the script. To be fair to the writer wasn't bad. In her mind's eye, Laure could already picture some of the key settings in vivid detail. The sign of a good writer or a good location scout? Perhaps Paul was right. The best thing she could do was to keep busy and forget about Todd. Besides, if he did try to threaten her career, she had enough information about his private life to play dirty too. That was, if she ever had the nerve.

She picked up her mobile phone. "Hey Paul, it's Laure. Tell them I'll take the job. I reckon two weeks in Tunisia is just what I need right now. I'll organise my flights tonight and contact you when I'm there to let you know how it's going."

# Chapter 11

Two figures, clothed entirely in black, skirted round the outside of the silent building and crouched low beside the ground floor window.

"Do you have any idea of what we are looking for?"

"No, but I'll know when we find it."

The taller figure forced open the kitchen window and climbed through it, landing on the granite work surface. "I suggest we start in the lounge."

"You know it would have been far easier to put a trace on the mobile phone."

"We tried that last time but were nearly caught, remember?"

The intruders stood in the hallway. "You go check the rest of the place. I'll try in here."

The door to the bedroom swung open. Gloved fingers ransacked the contents of the bedside table. There was little of value - just a few family photographs and some unimportant documents.

"Hey, looks like someone practices safe sex!" A leather-clad hand removed a thin packet of contraceptives from the bathroom cabinet. "Expensive taste in toiletries, too."

"For heaven's sake, just make sure you put everything back the way you found it. And focus." The other person hissed. "We're looking for anything that can link them together."

The wardrobe door slid open and a hand sorted through the clothes hanging on the rail as the second intruder appeared at the doorway.

"Hey, this is unusual. How about this?" A object was removed from a drawer.

"Could be! At least it's a start. I'll take a photograph of it. Can you hold it for me?"

The beam from the headlights of a car flashed in a wide arc across the bedroom wall. A door slammed, followed by the sound of footsteps on the pavement.

"Forget it, we'd better leave and quick. They're back earlier than expected."

As a key slid into the lock to open the front door, two masked figures escaped through the kitchen window.

Laure dropped her rucksack on hallway floor and placed her keys on the table by the phone. Air fresheners. She must get some. The flat smelt musty after two weeks in Tunisia. She stared around her. For some inexplicable reason, she had an odd feeling that someone had been in her flat. She switched on the lights, and picked up a heavy umbrella from the coat rack to check each room.

As far as she could tell nothing was missing yet she was convinced some of her things had been moved. Photographs of her family were a fraction out of place, and the silk and taffeta dress that she had worn to the film premier looked as though it had been removed from the wardrobe and replaced back on the rail untidily. Call her an obsessive-compulsive, but she was sure she hadn't left it like that.

Laure flicked open her phone and dialled. "Hey Roy, it's Laure. Have you been to my flat while I was away?" As her closest friend, Roy had a key to her apartment in case of emergencies. He might have thought to try it on while she wasn't there.

"Sorry, hun, I've been rushed off my feet. I didn't have a chance. Why? Is there anything you need?"

"No, it's OK. I'm at home right now. It's just... well, I can't explain, but I think someone has been here while I was away."

"Are you sure? Is there anything missing? Do you want me to come over?"

"No, it's OK. I had a quick search and nothing's been taken."

"Have you called the police? Are you sure you don't want me to come round?"

Laure suddenly felt foolish. Nothing had been stolen, and as for the kitchen window, maybe she had forgotten to lock it properly before she left for Tunisia. Maybe a cat had got in, or a bird.

"No, it's OK. It must have been the cleaner," she lied. "I'll have a word with her when she comes in on Thursday. Don't worry; I'll call you tomorrow."

But the feeling of disquiet intensified. Before she replaced the phone in its cradle Laure called the local locksmith to change the locks.

By coincidence, at his beach house in Malibu, Todd had a similar issue. Someone had broken in and disabled the security system. First he called the police then he contacted the security company to repair the damage.

Unlike the previous occasions, when his passport and several important documents relating to Laurie, his son, had been stolen, this time nothing of value was missing, except for the beanie hat that Laure had left in his hire car on the day of the kidnapping. He had meant to give it back to her at the hospital, along with her mobile phone, but for some reason he had kept it amongst his personal possessions, in a drawer in his bedroom. It held the faintest trace of her perfume and he liked to recall the memory of her cold red nose and wild, tumbling hair the first time he ever saw her. Now that it was missing it irritated him more that he cared to admit.

He switched on his mobile, fighting a strong urge to contact her.

"Hey Jono, how did it go? That's great! I have another project I'd like you to manage. I'll see you at the office."

# Chapter 12

Laure's phone buzzed in her inside jacket pocket where she'd put it to protect it from the incessant rain. On location in the heart of the bleak Romanian countryside, she was ankle-deep in mud caused by a violent flash-flood. Shivering, cold and soaked to the skin, she huddled next to the assistant director under a lean-to barn while they waited for the downpour to subside. The text that appeared on the tiny screen was the last thing she expected or wanted.

" _You're much more than a one night stand and always will be to me. Marry me?"_

Laure stared at the words. She had not heard from Todd since his return to LA the day after the film premier in London. And even though she had tried her best to drive him to the darkest recesses of her mind, a recent newspaper article announcing his engagement to Heather Dunstone had given her several sleepless nights. The accompanying photograph had Heather posing on Todd's arm with a huge, diamond ring on her finger. Laure fumed. What was wrong with him that he had to go round proposing to every woman that he met? She thought of Dominique, his poor wife. She had to be blessed with the patience of a saint or believe in open marriages to be that forgiving.

Well, she'd had enough. The situation was beyond a joke and it was time she ended the pretence once and for all.

"For the last time. Please leave me alone," she texted, before the reception was lost.

She grimaced at Jonathan Kossoff, the assistant-director who she'd worked with on her last two projects. Perhaps she should change her phone when she got back to the UK as Paul had suggested weeks ago.

Jonathan pulled the collar of his waterproof jacket tighter. "This deluge shows no sign of stopping. How about we make a break for the car? I have some phone calls to the US I need to make and then it's an early night for me if we've travelling north tomorrow."

"Sounds like a good idea. I have a new script to catch up on back at the hotel. Besides there's really nothing more we can do in this weather. Let's hope the forecast is better for tomorrow. I think we can strike this location off the list."

They counted to three then made a dash for Jonathan's hire car at the base of the hill. It was just as well. The tyres of the 4x4 were submerged in water up to the level of the alloy wheel trim and the road had turned into a river awash with debris and broken tree branches. Laure was relieved to climb up into the passenger seat out of the rain, though the feeling was short-lived as the water from her clothes seeped into the fabric seat cover.

Wisely, Jonathan removed his wet jacket and threw it onto the back seat. The rising flood water meant he had to drive with extreme caution, keeping one eye out for the road while trying to avoid pot-holes with the other. They were five kilometres from the hotel when his mobile phone rang inside his jacket pocket.

"Do you want me to get that for you, Jonathan? I can reach it, if you like."

"Thanks, Laure. I've been waiting for this call. I need to discuss some amendments to the budget with the director. I'll just pull over out of the wet."

She loosened her seat belt and reached behind her to slide the phone out of his inside pocket. As she handed it to him she caught sight of the caller's name flash up on the screen. Suddenly everything fell into place. The reason why she had been in such demand recently, especially on projects with Jonathan, and the reason she hadn't heard from Todd, until today.

She heard Jonathon discuss numbers and waited for him to start wrapping up the call before she interrupted him. "Please tell Todd I'm on to him."

Not understanding, Jonathan frowned at her. "...Er, did you catch that?" He nodded in response to Todd's answer and handed Laure the phone. "He wants to speak to you."

Did he now? Well she had a few things to say to him, most of them unprintable.

"Enough, Todd. If you're trying to make me reconsider my choice of career, you're doing a fabulous job. Please, this is the last time."

Back at her hotel room, Laure changed out of her wet clothes and showered. She thought about packing and heading back to the UK but her professional pride and commitment to the contract persuaded her otherwise. Besides, no doubt Todd would sue her ass and she would be blackballed within the industry for future projects. Sixth sense told her he would try to contact her again and she was right. The phone buzzed as she came out of the bathroom swathed in a huge bath towel with her hair in damp ringlets around her shoulders.

Fatigued from the events of the day, and with nothing better to look forward to than an evening of indifferent room service and satellite television repeats, Laure sat on the bed with her feet tucked underneath her and stared at the tiny screen.

" _I wish there was some way I could turn back the clock and change things between us._ " he wrote.

Laure's heart contracted sharply. He was persistent to a fault; she had to give him that. She hesitated before answering. Now that he knew she knew she'd been duped into working for him on her last two projects, she shouldn't even waste her time acknowledging him but her curiosity and her pride were piqued. If he wanted to play games then she could lay down a few aces herself.

" _But you can't."_ she wrote back.

Evidently he guessed what her response was likely to be and tried a different tack. _"Pax?"_

Laure thought long and hard about her response. Distance gave her control. She could piss him off big time and cut him off if things got out of hand. " _Why should I?"_

He took a while to respond, obviously deliberating the best way to reach her. " _Because the night we made love has been with me every day since._ "

Laure stared at the screen. He could have written anything but that. Anything, and she would have had the upper hand. The harsh fact was no one had ever touched her so completely, broken down her barriers and reached deep into her soul as he had the night they'd made love. Just thinking about it again made her nipples swell and her inner muscles contract against his imaginary cock, just as it did each time she thought of him without anger. She closed her eyes, trying to figure out her answer.

" _OK. But on my terms."_

" _Agreed. What are you doing right now?_ "

" _Just showered and settling in for the night. How about you?"_ Damned if this wasn't the most surreal conversation she'd had after all the ups and downs they'd been through together.

" _Just had lunch with Speilberg. Are you naked, chérie?"_

His question shocked, as no doubt he intended, but there was also a subtle challenge in it that ramped up her pulses. She was playing with fire if she texted him back, but tonight, after spending the day in a cold, dank field on his behalf, she felt like living dangerously. After all, there was a whole continent between them. And tonight, she fancied pushing him to the limit.

" _Wouldn't you like to know?"_

" _Yes. Send picture."_

Smiling, she carefully positioned herself for the maximum bare flesh impact and took a photograph. Then pressed send.

" _How did you know I have a foot fetish? You have very sexy, naked feet. Repeat - are you naked?"_

She should have stopped there, switched off the phone, told him to take a flying jump off a tall building. Instead she took a photograph of her knees, followed by one of her chin and naked shoulders, giving enough hint of cleavage to keep him guessing.

" _You have beautiful knees, and shoulders. But I need more pictures to pass judgement on the rest of you."_

" _No deal. Use your imagination."_ Or memory.

" _So you are naked?"_

" _Yes, - apart from towel."_

" _Please describe!"_

" _Pure white, monogrammed, rough, and slightly wet."_ she teased.

" _Towel or you?"_

" _????"_

He came back with a different tack. _"Where are you?"_

That threw her. He'd spoken to Jonathan not two hours earlier. Surely he knew she was in Romania? _"In a hotel room."_

" _On your own?"_

" _No, with Romanian national football squad. You?"_

" _Same here. LA Galaxy Women's Team. Remove towel."_

The conversation was not Todd at all. It was getting too risqué. Laure decided to call his bluff. _"Who are you and what have you done with Todd St. Vignes?"_

" _OK. I promise to behave."_

Thank goodness. _"How's your fiancée?"_

" _Fiancée?"_

" _Heather!!!!"_

" _Don't believe everything you read in the press."_

" _How's your wife?"_

" _You have wife?"_ he fended.

" _No, but you do."_

" _Incorrect. Did have."_

He signed off leaving Laure staring at the words on the screen. Had Dominique finally had enough of his philandering? She was still sitting on the bed pondering his text, his odd behaviour, and her own responses, when the phone rang in her hands. It was him. Her heart jumped on hearing the deep, rich tones of his heavy accent.

"I couldn't resist calling you directly. Are you really naked, chérie?" he asked; his voice as seductive as melted chocolate.

Laure shivered, recalling the last time she'd seen him, wearing nothing but a sexy smile and sporting a massive erection. What was she thinking? She was supposed to be baiting him. "Uhuh, apart from the towel. I'm spread-eagled across the bed. What happened to Dominique?"

"Hang on; I just need to hold that image." There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line. "Okay, now I can _really_ picture you."

His humour was so unlike the Todd she knew that Laure wondered whether he was drunk especially when she heard what sounded suspiciously like a zip being released. Her imagination went into warp-drive. "Todd, you haven't just... Oh no, this is hardly the sort of conversation that we should be having. OK, I'm hanging up. Right now."

"Hold on," he coaxed. "I'm only teasing but it's a nice thought. I wanted to talk to you. Please don't hang up. Laure" His voice was at once gentle and persuasive.

"What do you want to talk to me about? I've already told you. I'm not interested in your proposal," she replied on the defensive again.

"I know," he calmed. "Look, I just wanted to say sorry and to thank you for keeping your side of the bargain. You kept quiet about the kidnapping and about Laurie."

Laure sat back against the pillows and played with the tie of her bathrobe. "I gave my word, remember?" There was a break in the conversation, caused by the long distance. Laure felt obliged to lay her cards on the table. "I guess I should thank you for keeping me employed over the last few weeks. Why did you keep it a secret?"

"Because I knew you wouldn't accept the contracts if you realised it was me behind them, and I needed your expert eye." Now wasn't the time to tell her about the anonymous letter or the threat to her life he'd received, which had prompted his concern for her wellbeing. Although the projects were legitimate, he'd slept better these last few weeks knowing Jono was playing body guard.

Laure fell silent. He was right of course, damn him. If she had any inkling she would be working either directly or indirectly for him she would have turned the projects down immediately.

"So, are we still friends? You haven't put the phone down and you're still talking to me, so I guess we are."

Laure mused over his choice of words. He wanted to be friends, did he? She wasn't sure whether she was ready to forgive him but she didn't want him to hang up either. "The jury's still out," she responded.

Todd changed the subject. "How are you getting on with Jono?"

"Jono?" The penny dropped. "Oh, you mean Jonathan. Great. I really enjoy working with him," Laure enthused.

"More than working with me?"

"He doesn't get me kidnapped."

"Touché! By the way, did you know the French police are on the verge of making an arrest?"

Laure's heart flipped hard against her ribs. The thought of having to see Todd again, either for further police questioning or during the trial, was something she had put to the back of her mind, to face at a later date when her feelings for him were not so raw. Now it seemed events were fast closing in on her.

"No, I didn't. Is that why you wanted to speak to me? About the arrest?"

"No. I just wanted to hear your voice again." His voice was soft, his French accent undeniably sexy as hell.

Unsure of how to respond, Laure asked the question that had been clamouring for an answer since the moment he called back. "You didn't answer my question. You said you did have a wife. What happened to her?"

She heard a short exhale of breath on the other end of the phone and pictured the expression on his face as he ran his hands through his hair. "She died in a car accident shortly after Laurent was born."

Blood drained from Laure's face and the air she breathed in didn't quite reach her lungs. The room bounced in and out of focus. "I'm sorry. I don't understand. If your wife is dead, who is the woman I saw you with at La Tourettes and at the hospital?"

"My sister, Dominique."

"Your sister? But I saw you kissing her. She was wearing a wedding ring. I thought..."

"What is this, Laure? Don't you believe me?" There was a slight edge of reproach to his voice. "You, of all people, should understand how I like to protect my privacy."

"I know, Todd," Laure defended. "But you haven't been fair! How can you say you want to be friends if you don't trust me?" _He's not married, he's not married,_ pounded through her brain _._

"You don't trust me!"

Laure considered his reply. Was he still playing games with her? If Dominique was his sister, why hadn't he told her weeks ago, when he first asked her to marry him, at the hospital? Surely she'd made it plain that she thought he was married? Or had they been talking at cross-purposes all this time. She shook her head in frustration. Yet another example of why being friends with him wouldn't work.

Sensing her reticence, Todd backtracked. "The woman you saw me with at La Tourettes is my sister Dominique. She's married to one of my best friends from school. She and Antoine have been looking after Laurie in France while I am based in LA."

"And what about Heather? Your fiancée?"

So she _had_ seen the wretched article. Todd took another sharp intake of breathe and swore. That Heather had been wearing a huge solitaire diamond ring when they met purely by chance at a recent Hollywood Gala event, was either unfortunate or deliberate, depending how charitable he felt. The media had leapt on the idea that he and Heather were engaged and, for the sake of publicity, Heather had done her utmost to fuel it into a full-blown story, telling the press that she had finally snagged her man. Todd was still livid, harbouring a strong suspicion that Heather had staged the whole thing in the first place. Even now he felt his anger bubbling to the fore just thinking about it.

"I told you before, you shouldn't believe everything you read in the press," he snapped.

Laure lapsed into an awkward silence. She had struck a nerve and didn't understand why. Her finger hovered over the call disconnect button.

Todd's attitude softened. She was right, of course. If they were to have any kind of relationship, friendship or otherwise, he had to let his defences fall.

"OK. You want the truth. Heather and I..." he started. "We dated a couple of times last year. But she's not my type. I prefer my women to be less showy, more natural... and feisty. The kind of woman you wouldn't mind being kidnapped with."

Laure heard the smile in his voice and knew where the conversation was leading, but instead of feeling elated she felt flat.

"But you're still seeing her."

"No, I'm not. Heather has a habit of turning up at the same events as me and the press do the rest. That's what happened in London. I didn't even know she was in the UK. She just turned up at the party without an invite."

Laure considered his words. The jury was still out on that topic too. "How's the Maquis film going?" she asked, deciding to change the subject completely.

Todd recognised she was avoiding the issue. He also realised, from the strained tone of her voice, that if he pushed too hard, he would lose her. In the weeks following the kidnapping, he'd had plenty of time to consider exactly why one slightly crazy, tousle-haired Brit with green, cat-like eyes had gotten to him so emphatically. He'd thought that by making love to her in London, the lusty obsession he had for her would dissipate.

He was wrong. It had worsened until she was in his thoughts day and night, a raw, gaping wound that refused to heal. And now, talking to her again, hearing the energy in her sexy, lilting voice, he had to face facts. It was more than an obsession. He was in love with her. Yet, if he told her, she would slam down the phone in an instant. This was his final chance to establish a relationship with her. If he blew it this time, he would lose her for good.

Following her lead, he talked about the film, the crew and cast, and about his plans to secure long-term financial backing, giving Laure a unique insight into his role as director. He also explained his decision not to use La Tourettes as the location for the film, on the grounds of protecting his personal privacy.

Naturally, Laure was disappointed. The location was perfect. But, at the same time, she understood his reasons. In turn, she told him about the Romanian locations she had researched with Jonathan and about the deluge they'd been caught in earlier, which had precipitated in her taking a shower. They talked and laughed easily for almost an hour until Laure forgot that she was wrapped in only a bath towel.

"Don't get cold." His accented voice enveloped her in a delicious, warm hug.

"No, I'm quite warm now." Deliberately she let the towel slide from her body. She felt languid and daring. She touched her right breast and traced her thumb across her nipple, imagining it was him.

Todd picked up her change of mood. "Are you naked now?" His cock stirred at the thought.

She laughed; a soft throaty laugh. "Completely."

His breath hitched as he pictured her laid back on the bed, her hair splayed out across the pillow, her legs open wide for him and her sex glistening with her creamy juices. "What are you doing?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

"I can imagine, chérie. I have a very vivid imagination."

"I'm sure you have. And on that note, I think I should go. It's getting late and I have to get up early to research some new locations for a very demanding director."

His response was a long, low groan. "OK. Goodnight, Laure. Sleep well."

"Goodnight, Todd."

She pulled the covers around her and fell asleep with the phone on the pillow beside her.

Todd hung up his phone and growled. What on earth had possessed him to ask her if she was naked? He had a raging hard-on to beat all hard-ons beneath his desk and no way to relieve it apart from his own hand. Thank fuck he was working from home and not from his LA office, or worse still, on the film-set where anyone could have heard him.

He loved the sound of her voice, and he loved the fact that he'd broken through her defences. The thought of making her come wearing nothing but a sexy smile was going to plague him for the rest of the day, and most likely the night. He would call her again, soon. But he'd give her a few days to miss him first - after he'd arranged for his office to send her a company-registered phone. Following the phone-hacking scandal in England and the ongoing police enquiries into his alleged stalker and the kidnapping in France, he couldn't afford his private phone calls to be hacked. He reached for a box of tissues and imagined her naked, straddling his thighs as he closed his eyes and unzipped his jeans to release his throbbing cock.

"Hi, where are you?"

It had been six weeks since Laure's trip to Romania and Todd had phoned almost every week; sometimes only for a few minutes, sometimes for an hour when the conversation between them quickly descended to light-hearted sexy banter. Hell, she'd come more times at her own hand after speaking to him than she had during the last few months of her marriage to Will, thanks to the secure phone Todd had sent her.

How he found time to talk to her considering his busy work schedule surprised her. Yet, more and more, she found herself looking forward to his call, and experienced a sharp thrill of excitement each time she heard his voice. It was a strange dilemma to be faced with. Just the sound of his sexy, French accent was enough to get her wet and horny. But the thought of meeting him face to face, as no doubt she would have to when the kidnappers' case came to trial, filled her with a growing unease.

"I'm in the garden sunbathing." Just thinking about him, her nipples hardened beneath her vest t-shirt in anticipation of what he might say next. In her mind his mouth was already pulling at them, his tongue creating swirls across the tips.

"Naked again? Won't the neighbours complain?"

"I'm fairly sheltered here."She heard him take a deep inhale and smiled at her power to tease him so easily. "Aren't you working at the moment?"

"I don't think I can contemplate work at this precise instant. I have a fabulous vision of you in my head that refuses to budge."

"Do you think that's wise?" Last night, her dreams had been highly erotic. And of him. She'd gone to bed feeling horny and woken up with the same unsatisfied ache between her legs. She realised the phone calls would stop when he found someone else - someone who would fit better within his social circles. But until then, she wanted to hear his sexy voice pouring down the phone to her for as long as she could.

"I don't feel very wise at the moment," he replied. "I'm feeling decidedly reckless and very randy for an auburn-haired temptress all of a sudden."

"Auburn-haired temptress, huh? You wouldn't prefer a busty blonde or a sleek, glossy model with legs that go right up to her..."

"No." He shut her down. "It has to be an auburn-haired temptress or no-one else."

"That's a shame because I've just shaved my head. The Sinead O'Connor look is very much in at the moment."

"Very sexy. Now if you'd shaved somewhere else..."

"So, you prefer the Brazilian look."

"I prefer any look, as long as it's you."

"Hmm...You are a very wicked man. What's happened to the angry Todd I'm used to."

"Is that how you see me?" He sounded hurt.

Laure grinned. Right now she saw him naked in bed, with her mouth trailing across his hot body. "Perhaps you could persuade me to see you in a different light."

"I wish I could see you in person."

"Yeah," she giggled. "And what would you do to me?"

He paused to assess her mood. She seemed playful and relaxed. "Well, I would start by stripping you naked."

"I'm already there." She smiled, imagining his reaction on the other end of the line.

"Do you know what my fingers want to do to you?"

Oh yes, and not just his fingers. "I have a good idea. But I think we should change the subject before this conversation degenerates any further and we both end up having phone sex."

He groaned, trying to get his body under control. "Putain, you are such a tease. So, are you working at the moment?"

She put her sexy thoughts on hold. Since discovering Todd's secret hand in her recent scouting projects, Laure had made him promise to come clean about any further job offers that he pushed in her direction. For her own part, she had decided, in the short-term, to accept a series of conscious-pricking, low budget projects, which presented a different kind of job satisfaction but also their fair share of difficulties.

"No, I'm not," she replied. "The project I was working on has ground to a halt while the accountants argue about finances, so I've decided to take a break. I was thinking of going away somewhere for a couple of weeks."

"On your own?"

"Yes. I'm quite content with my own company, and there are a couple of new scripts I need to catch up on. I've been looking at late minute bargains so who knows where I'll end up. How about you? What are you up to at the moment?"

"I'm just putting the final pieces in place, ready to start filming." Todd replied. "Are you serious about getting away on holiday?"

"Yes, why?"

"Well, I might be able to help. I know someone who is looking for a house-sitter for their villa in Corsica for a couple of weeks. If you are interested I could phone them. It's the perfect place to relax and chill out. And it would be completely free, apart from the flights and spending money."

Laure was taken aback by his suggestion. "It's very kind of you to suggest it, but I don't think I could."

"Of course you could. It has a swimming pool. The wine cellar is well stocked and you won't be disturbed."

She had to admit, she was intrigued. "Are you sure your friend wouldn't object?"

"One hundred per cent sure. In fact, my friend would be grateful to have someone house-sit for him. I'd offer to join you but I'm going to be tied up with minor script changes. Once they're sorted out I need to start filming. What do you think?"

Laure hesitated. The idea of house-sitting a villa in Corsica was tempting but she still wasn't sure. His unexpected offer to join her had sent her pulses sky-rocketing yet she was grateful that he'd be tied up with the film. These coveted moments shared with him on the phone were special. Seeing him in person would change all that.

"What's the problem?" he challenged.

"Well, I suppose there isn't one, it's just... I have to admit I'm sorely tempted. Corsica is supposed to be beautiful. Do you think your friend would trust me not to burn the place down or drink the cellar dry?"

"Ah, so that's what happened to all that wine the kidnappers left for us," he joked. "Seriously Laure, all you'll need to pay for is your flights. The villa is stunning. I've been there several times. I'm sure you'll love it. I can call him right away, if you want. He's bound to say yes for a friend of mine. What's stopping you?"

Laure smiled. He considered her a friend. It brought a ray of sun-filled warmth into her soul. "OK. Why not! If you would give him a call, I'll book the flights once I know it's OK."

Todd called back an hour later. She was in the kitchen preparing a light supper.

"Everything is arranged. You can stay at the villa for as long as you like. When you've confirmed the details of your flights, can you email me your details? I'll forward them to my friend. Oh, and one last thing - here's the address and phone number of the villa. Are you sure you'll be alright on your own?"

"I'll be more than fine." She dropped her voice to increase the huskiness. "Oh, and Todd... Thank you." The background noise of visitors arriving to his office brought her fantasies to an abrupt halt.

Todd lowered his voice. "I must go. My car was stolen from the office parking lot and totalled by a joy-rider last night. The police want to talk to me. Don't forget to email me your flight details. I'll leave you to enjoy your err... sunbathing. By the way, the villa's not overlooked in any way so you can work on your all-over tan in total privacy."

"I'll bear that in mind," Laure responded before hanging up.

# Chapter 13

On first sight, from the steep, winding road that swept up the hillside, the villa was small and understated, but the moment Laure stepped out of the taxi and through the gated enclosure, the view that greeted her was an architect's fantasy. Nestled amongst wooded cliffs, which dropped dramatically towards an azure-blue sea, the whitewashed villa was a perfect marriage of modern style and functionality. It was also deceptively large, with clean, angular lines, floor-to-ceiling windows, and tiered landscaping in the garden. A white tiled patio lined with fragrant lemon and orange trees led down to an infinity swimming pool with magnificent views across the bay. Laure caught her breath. Never, in a million years, would she have been able to afford to holiday somewhere so luxurious.

She was tempted to throw down her luggage and dive into the pool fully-clothed when Beatrice, the housekeeper and cleaning lady, came out of the villa to greet her. A plump, mothering sort of woman, she radiated happiness and warm, homely comfort.

"Hallo, you must be Laure," she beamed. "I was told to expect you. Let me help you with your bags. If you like, I'll take you your room first then I'll show you where everything is."

Laure followed her into the house. Again she was struck by the villa's elegant, ultra-modern style. In contrast to her shabby yet comfortable flat back in London, the bedroom assigned to her on the upper level was chic with understated touches of pure luxury. It was also as big as her bedroom, lounge and kitchen put together. An all-white bathroom with a shower and sunken spa bath, and a huge walk-in wardrobe, led off one wall, leaving a king-size bed, bedside tables and lamps as the only furnishings in the bedroom itself. A full-length patio window opened out onto a pure white roof-terrace, complete with sun loungers, parasols and potted plants. Heaven!

Laure grinned from ear to ear as she stepped out to admire the view across the pool down to the wooded cove. Todd was right; it was perfect for nude sunbathing; completely secluded with a waist-high balcony. A girl could certainly get used to this kind of luxury.

"You should have everything you need," Beatrice said, handing Laure the keys to the villa. "But if you don't, just give me a call. I live in the village down below. There's a list of emergency numbers by the phone in the kitchen plus instructions for the electricity and water service points. Oh, and before I forget, here's the number for the local car-hire company if you want to do some sightseeing. Just give them a ring and they'll deliver the car to the villa. I'll let you settle in now and come back in a few days to see if there's anything you need."

As soon as Beatrice left, Laure checked out the kitchen. The fridge was fully stocked with steak, fish, salad, and a selection of cooked meats and cheeses. There were also two freshly baked baguettes in a linen bag on the counter and two bottles of vintage champagne, with her name written on tags round the necks, in the refrigerated wine cellar. Beatrice really had thought of everything, though Laure had a sneaking suspicion that the champagne was a gift from Todd. She stepped out onto the terrace to admire the view. The villa was perfect. She was going to enjoy being here on her own for the next two weeks.

She checked her watch. If she contacted Todd now he might just be awake, bearing in mind the time difference between Corsica and LA.

She decided to text him.

" _The villa is stunning, just as you said. I owe you BIG time,"_ she wrote.

Not expecting an immediate response, she opted to fix lunch rather than unpack. Her flight had departed early morning from Gatwick and, apart from a complementary packet of finger sandwiches, she had not eaten since breakfast. She put together a salad with slices of salty-sweet Parma ham, chunks of succulent melon, and fresh crusty bread, and ate on the shady terrace in front of the air-conditioned kitchen. After lunch she resumed her tour of the villa.

Built on two levels, with the master bedroom and two more than generous guestrooms on the upper floor, the villa had been designed to attract the maximum light and sunshine from dawn to dusk yet the huge reflective glass windows ensured that the inside remained cool at all times. A gentle breeze whipped up from the cove making the temperature on the roof terrace warm but not unbearably hot.

Back in the lounge, Laure's attention was drawn beyond the full-length windows to the patio. The pool looked inviting after her two hour flight. She stepped out into the bright sunlight to test the water. It was perfect, just as she knew it would be.

Putting off unpacking until later, she returned to the bedroom to change into her bikini. Then, armed with a towel, suntan lotion, and one of her scripts to read, she headed back to the pool. As she stepped out onto the patio her phone rang.

It was Todd. "How are you settling in?"

Laure could hear the light noise of traffic in the background and pictured him driving from home to his down town office in the early morning. It was going to be a quick call. She wouldn't be able to thank him in the way she intended, unless she wanted him to crash the car.

"Fantastic. This must be the most luxurious place I've ever stayed in," she enthused. "It's beautiful. Please thank your friend for me."

"I'm glad you like it." A sharp squeal of tyres, followed by a loud expletive, cut across the call.

"The traffic sounds awful. Are you driving to work?"

"I have to go, chérie. I'll speak to you later, when I have more time. You can thank me properly then." He cut the call, cursing under his breath.

A major traffic incident on the outskirts of town was an unwelcome hold-up, and one he would have done anything to avoid. To make matters worse, his plane had been late and he was in a desperate hurry, but until the emergency services arrived to clear the wreckage he was going nowhere. He ran his hand through his hair mindful of each precious second that slipped through his fingers.

Numb, Laure stared at the phone, surprised to discover how much she'd been looking forward to speaking to him. She wanted to share her first impressions of the villa knowing, because he had stayed here too, he would understand her excitement. A shadow loomed across her happiness. Would he stop calling once the kidnappers were brought to trial? After all, his career was on the rise and firmly based in Hollywood whereas she was little-league and her career and home were in London.

Determined not to let anything to spoil her day, Laure pushed her thoughts to the back of her mind. She placed her phone and towel on the pool-side table and slid into the iridescent turquoise pool. It was late afternoon and the sun was still hot, though a light breeze cooled the terrace. She swam a few lengths to exercise her muscles, enjoying the refreshing coolness of the water as it stimulated her skin, then floated over to the edge, where the water-level of the pool met the azure horizon, to take in the view and catch her breath.

In the bay below, a sail boat tacked back and forth, catching the wind in its billowing sails and in the far distance, a gleaming-white cruise ship headed towards its next Mediterranean port. Laure watched it disappear past the headland, out of sight, before turning her attention to the surrounding landscape.

Todd was right. The villa and its grounds commanded the most idyllic location, hidden from view by the rugged woodland that hugged the cliffs all the way down to the secluded cove. Laure surmised that the owner had to be extremely rich, a famous film star or producer perhaps, because the whole property, including the pool, was hidden from prying eyes. His comment about nude sunbathing came to mind.

Feeling adventurous, she stripped off her bikini top and bottom to swim back and forth, enjoying the liberating experience of water rippling against her naked skin. It felt sensual, like a thousand lovers' hands all over her body, the cool water in contrast to the heat of the sun. She imagined the look on Todd's face when she described the experience and her all-over tan the next time he called.

Emerging from the pool, she lay face down on the sun lounger, beneath the shade of an umbrella, to allow the heat from the patio to dry her hair and naked skin. The warmth of the sun, the distant swell of the sea below, and the gentle hum of the insects pollinating the orange and lemon trees lulled her into a state of complete relaxation. She drifted off to sleep.

In the midst of highly-erotic dream, two strong hands stroked her ass and someone was kissing her buttocks just above her sex. Wanting more, she shifted position, spreading her legs wider and hitching up her ass. A masculine laugh sounded in her head and she squirmed some more, imagining it was Todd's lips, Todd's mouth, Todd's fingers on her most intimate places. Hot breath brushed against her sex. Even in her dream it felt real. She moaned as a tongue flicked between...

"What the f...? What are you doing here?" she jumped up with a start.

"The thought of you sunbathing in the nude was too much for me. And I wanted to give you the chance to thank me in person," Todd replied as he continued to stroke her thighs. He picked up the bottle of sun tan lotion to dab a blob onto the tip of her slightly up-turned nose, then on each of her nipples, causing them to harden at his touch. "I'm glad to see you are making yourself at home." Nonplussed by her silence, he leant in for a kiss which was sweetened by the taste of her sex on his mouth.

Confused, Laure scrambled for her towel to protect her modesty. Her mind reeled. Hadn't she spoken to him on the phone just a couple of hours ago? He should be LA, not here. Her mind ran into panic mode. He was actually here. He'd come to see her. And she was still turned on from her dream. Or was it reality? He looked totally hot dressed in jeans and a casual short-sleeved shirt the hugged his biceps.

Her efforts to cover up were in vain. The towel was trapped beneath her and refused to budge and Todd did nothing to help her. His gaze merely heated up parts of her body she'd rather it didn't.

"Why didn't you let me know you were coming?" she accused. She twisted around to search for her bikini, forgetting that he could see her naked bottom and long, shapely legs. She was reminded the moment his fingers traced the curve of her buttocks - the same moment her pulse went off the scale.

"It was a spur of the moment thing. I wanted to surprise you. And I'm glad I did." He cast his luminous eyes along the length of her body before lifting a long swathe of damp curls from her shoulder to reveal the delicate curve of her neck and shoulders, and her breasts. "I had some unexpected free time in the filming schedule so I thought I'd come over and join you for a few days."

Laure shivered as his fingers grazed the sensitive skin of her hard, rosy nipples. Instantly they hardened, leaving her speechless and painfully aroused.

"Of course, if you would prefer to be on your own...," he teased. "Would you rather I stayed elsewhere, Laure?" The question hung in the air, just like his fingers on her breasts.

Laure closed her eyes. She had almost forgotten just how excruciatingly attractive he was and his touch was playing havoc with every one of her nerve endings. She felt as though she was in freefall.

She shook her head. "I... I just need some time to get used to the idea of you being here."

"Look at me, Laure," he commanded. "I want to see in your eyes that you mean it."

She turned to face him, her heart racing.

He took an age to sweep his eyes slowly over her naked shoulders and the rise of her breasts down to her the v of her sex before he looked back in her green eyes.

"I should go and get changed," she cautioned, her cheeks burning. She slid her legs over the side of the lounger to stand up, finally releasing the towel to cover her modesty.

Todd knelt down and held her in place. "Please don't. You have a beautiful body."

Mesmerised by the naked desire in his eyes, Laure didn't dare move as he coaxed the towel from her hands. Seconds ticked away. He could have touched her, taken her in his arms to kiss her, instead he devoured her with just his eyes, noting the curves of her breasts, the upturned peeks of her nipples, the way her hips swelled from her slender waist, and the flatness of her stomach dipping down to the neat landing strip at the top of her legs.

A flush of desire coloured her neck and cheeks. Her body was on fire just from his slow appraisal.

Todd smiled. "Let me finish you off." He gave her a suggestive look before picking up the bottle of suntan lotion again.

Unable to think of anything clever to say in response, Laure nodded mutely. She was still in shock from seeing him. She allowed him to turn her face down on the sun lounger, with her buttocks discretely covered by the towel, while he poured suntan lotion into the palm of his hand.

Starting with the arc of her shoulders, his hands worked their magic across her back and the top of her arms. It took a while for her to relax. She was too shaken at his unexpected appearance. But one by one, his expert fingers broke down her barriers. She gave an involuntary sigh while he slid his hands down the side of her breasts to her waist and then back over the swell of her hips to the small of her back. Every so often he stopped to plant a kiss at the top or bottom of his stroke.

"Your talents are wasted on directing," she murmured as he exerted a mild pressure down the length of her spine.

"I'll take that as a compliment," he replied.

Changing position, he siphoned off more lotion and massaged her feet and calves, up to the tops of her legs. When she didn't protest, he removed the towel to massage the soft mounds of her buttocks, brushing into the crack of her buttocks and downwards towards the inside of her thighs with his thumbs in deliberate strokes that signalled his intention louder than words.

Laure started. She sat up to face him, her hands covering her breasts.

"This is a little too quick for me, Todd. I'm not sure..."

It was a lie. If he had moved his fingers just a fraction lower he would have discovered just how much his slow, seductive touch inflamed her. Her body throbbed with pent-up desire but she was afraid; afraid of losing herself to him again, just as she had in London, and afraid of his rejection afterwards.

Todd recognised her fears. He reached down and lifted her into his arms to carry her into the house. If subtle persuasion was what she needed, he would give it to her in spades. "I'll go as slow as you want, chérie, but I will make love to you. Because, ultimately, it's what we both want."

He kissed her mouth in a sensuous haze of desire until she was dizzy as he made his way up the stairs to the master bedroom. No longer the predator but the sensual lover, his luminous grey eyes were almost translucent as he laid her down on the bed. Piece by piece he removed his clothes, maintaining eye contact all the time. Finally, when he was completely naked, his thick erection rising proud from his groin, he lay down on his back and pulled her on top of him, drawing her knees to straddle his hips until her sex aligned with his cock.

Once again he lost himself in the depths of her green, almond-shaped eyes. When she didn't object to the intimate position he'd placed her in, he pulled her mouth down onto his slowly, and caressed her nipples and stomach with his fingers. He knew, from the wet heat from her sex on his aching cock, she wanted him. Fear was no longer a valid excuse.

He continued to stroke the length of her body, cupping her ass, weighing the firm yet soft ripeness of each mound in his palms as she pulled upright, her nipples stiff and puckered above him.

"What are you frightened of, Laure?" He brought her back down onto his mouth, pressing her breasts into his chest. "We've been teasing each other over the phone for too long. You know I want to make love to you. I've wanted to make love to you again ever since London." He rolled her beneath him, the weight of his body lightly pressing her against the mattress as he supported himself on his elbows to caress the line of her jaw. When she tried to turn her head away, he forced her to look at him. "Please don't shut me out. Not now. I've come a long way to see you."

Laure sighed as his lips grazed on her mouth, the tip of her nose and her eyes, while his hard contours moulded against hers. He was too tempting, to sexy by far to ignore, but she desperately needed to keep hold of reality. "I don't want to shut you out, Todd. I'm scared of the future. That once the trial is over, you won't want me anymore."

"Have I ever given you any reason to think that would happen?" He nibbled at her neck and earlobes. "I'm here because I want to be with you. If you trust me, right here, right now, then the future is what we make of it. You just have to trust me."

"But we live in very different worlds..."

To silence her fears, he gently swept her hands above her head against the pillow then laved her breasts with his tongue, from the firm, fleshy tops, to her puckered nipples, to the full undersides. As her body responded to his deliberate coercion, he sucked and nipped harder until the sensitive skin of both of her areoles forced her nipples into hard peaks, just perfect for drawing into his mouth and swirling his tongue around.

With her hands trapped between his, Laure could only arch off the bed, aware that every lick, every bite had a direct, intense connection to her sex. She felt herself drowning beneath a desire that matched his in every way. The harder he sucked or bit, the more she squirmed and wriggled beneath him, until his cock was positioned exactly where she needed him, rubbing against the entrance of her sex, almost inside of her.

Todd held himself rigid. The slightest movement of his hips would start something they would both need to finish, and quickly. Making love to her in London had been amazing yet frustrating. He didn't want to give her the slightest reason to reject him again. And he didn't want to scare her with the full intensity of his need. He moved back up to her mouth and removed one hand from her wrist to glide it between them, toying his fingertips in the light covering of hair across her sex.

Without hesitation, she opened her legs to accept his more intimate touch willingly, enabling him to probe her tight, wet centre with two fingers while his thumb toyed with her swollen clit.

"You're so beautiful, chérie. If you want me to stop, you must tell me now," he said. "Because I want to make love to you so badly."

As he held her green, wide-eyed gaze, his fingers connected with her g-spot, massaging her sensitive nerve endings with long, lazy strokes. He watched her breathing falter and her eyes grow wide. He saw the first signs of orgasm flutter across her face and felt the tremors build up around his fingers. But before she could surrender to the first waves of release, he twisted onto his back and pulled her on top of him with her thighs straddling the width his chest. As the heat and moisture of her sex juices slicked against his skin, he groaned out loud.

"Mon dieu, chérie. You're so wet. I have to taste you."

Easing her further up his chest, he drew her knees up to cradle either side of his head. Once he had her sex pressed firmly against his mouth, he locked her wrists behind her buttocks so that she couldn't move and ran the flat of his tongue, slowly but deliberately from the base to the top of her slit. He repeated the action several times, holding her wrists and thighs tight as she tried to dance away from him, then used the tip of his tongue to plunge inside of her and around her clit until she started to grind down against his mouth.

Each time she tensed, hovering on the brink, he slowed the pace, making her wait just as he waited. Even when her orgasm was close and she tried to ride his face to achieve it, he held her captive, waiting until she stopped bucking and screaming with frustration before starting up his delicious torture again.

Sweat broke out across his forehead, across his chest and stomach. Cramp threatened his legs but he refused to give in to the need to bury himself inside of her. Nor would he let her go until she begged him to stop. When she did, with broken, desperate sobs, he slid out from beneath her, leant back on his heels, and positioned himself so that he could lift her upright onto his thighs and draw her all the way down onto his cock until his balls nestled against her ass.

Feeling her tight heat encircle his shaft, the instinct to lose himself inside her sweet body was too strong. He kissed her face, her breasts, her neck, using the muscles in his thighs and buttocks to drive her crazy with slow, deep-penetrating thrusts that made her moan each time he rose up inside of her. For the first time in a long, long time, he made love with every essence of his being, using his hands, his mouth, his cock, his whole body, to fill her with ecstasy.

Her nipples rubbed against his chest, her velvety, wet core wrapped around his sensitive shaft, and her soft, sweet lips slid down his torso on a voyage of discovery across his face, his neck, his shoulder blades. Making love to her again was everything he'd dreamt of, and so much more than he could have hoped for. Buried inside of her, loving her slowly and her loving him back, he finally allowed his self-control to crumble, driving himself deeper, more deliberately, with both arms around her back as he whispered words of encouragement and pleasure against her damp skin.

The delicious fire that swirled inside of her burst into a torrid flame. Every touch, every thrust, every kiss, forged a deeper connection with him. She tangled her fingers in his hair and stole the breath from his lips, and still wanted more. Desire hung heavy between them, as tangible as the scent of sex, as real as the sweat pouring down her back and between her breasts. And, when he lowered his mouth to taste the glistening traces, she shuddered with pure need and offered her breasts to him again, wanting to feel his mouth devour her, while her fingers fluttered across his rigid abdomen down to the wet join between them.

"Fuck me, Todd. Fuck me harder," she moaned against his hair while her fingers circled the base of his cock in a tight grip. She positioned her free arm around his neck and held on, no longer afraid of his passion. She welcomed the new rhythm he dictated, accepting each deep, delicious stroke as he groaned against her skin from the urgent sensation her tight fingers created in his balls.

"Harder. I need you harder, Todd. Please," she cried. Panting from lust and the physical exertion of riding his rigid cock, when he coated his forefinger with her juices and circled her anus, she barely registered the intrusion, only the pleasure radiating from her sensitive flesh as he made sure her tight ass was wet and ready. And when he pressed his forefinger deeper, and matched the fast rhythm of his cock with the thrust of his finger, she felt the stimulus within both her sex and ass, filling her more than anything she had experienced before. The orgasm she desperately needed shattered over her violently, rippling outwards from her womb and rectum. Crying out his name, she felt his own climax take him over the edge with her, his seed pumping into her long after the final wave of orgasm took her to a place of mindless bliss.

Todd remained connected to her, rocking into her gently, until his cock softened. Exhausted yet sated, he held her close, stroking her hair and back, afraid to let go in case she withdrew from him again, just as she had in London. His fear was unfounded. When she opened her eyes, the expression in them was of hazy wonderment and a powerful, sensual awakening.

"I want to make love to you all over again. How can that be?" She traced her fingertips down his chest to circle his tight, brown nipples, tweaking them in turn until he physically flinched.

Todd smiled. "Didn't I satisfy you the first time, chérie? That's not good for my ego."

She smiled back and reached her hand down between them to caress his abs. Moving further south she found his semi-flaccid cock. Even spent, he was still thick and long. "Let's just say it was so good, I need more. How about I give you a little help?" She tugged at his shaft and was rewarded by a partial erection. "May I?" she tweaked her eyebrows playfully. "I promise to be gentle with you."

Todd shook his head, his expression mock-severe. "I'd rather you weren't. I'd rather you felt free to express yourself any way you want to with me."

"Well in that case..." She pushed him back against the mattress and straddled his thighs, using her lips to chart the dips and smooth lines of his chest. When her mouth reached the light smattering of hair above his erect cock, she licked her lips, eager to taste him. She moved backwards onto his thighs and looked up, watching the tension build on his face as she stroked his thickening shaft, her fingers so light on his soft, sex-streaked skin they barely touched yet teased. His chest rose and fell in shaky breaths as he watched, silently willing her on.

Laure pulled herself upright and brushed her breasts over his chest and stomach, revelling in the skin-to-skin contact. Her nipples were still sensitive from their previous lovemaking. The sensation of them gliding across the length of his hard torso was such a turn on, she continued to stroke him with just her breasts, moving down to capture his hard cock in the dip between them. She knew her actions turned him on too when a long, drawn-out groan escaped his lips.

With his cock peeking between her breasts, she bent her head to taste the bead of pre-cum leaking from his slit and gathered the milky pearl with the tip of her tongue. Her own taste mingled with his. She lifted her head to watch his face as she coated his cock with saliva from base to tip with probing sweeps of her tongue. Each flick, each lick, registered. His eyes grew darker, and his heart-rate hiked - enough for her to know to slow things down. He was a whisker away from taking over and fucking her mouth yet she held him in place with her thighs, teasing his silky, rigid flesh with her tongue and mouth until his balls tightened in her hands.

Todd clenched his teeth, willing himself not to come like an overexcited teenager. He was so close, just the merest touch of her mouth on his throbbing cock and he would explode.

"If you continue to do that, I'm going to come solo, chérie?" he rasped, trying to slow his breathing to a more regular rate while his heart sought to catch up. He covered her hand and pulled her up to kiss her full, pouty lips, her sex pressing against the base of his shaft.

"I can think of a better way," she grinned. She twisted round to face his feet and positioned her sex over his mouth. "That's better," she giggled as she held his shaft and licked it like a lollipop. "Now we both get to play."

She gave him a sexy look over her shoulder before she suckled his tip and took him deep into her mouth as far as she could. Letting him slip out of her mouth, she coated the entire length of his cock with saliva again then gripped his base with two hands to slide her mouth back down further, using a combination of swirls, and strokes to tease him as she came back up again.

Todd could barely breathe, let alone move. Transported to a place of total pleasure, all he was aware of was her mouth, her tongue and fingers on and around his cock, and the sharp tingles that shot from his balls and outwards across his entire body. He groaned out loud, releasing the air trapped in his lungs as her mouth slid over his bulbous tip to almost the base of his shaft. When she wiggled her sex against his mouth, he caught on quick. He flicked his tongue over her clit and stroked the inner walls of her sex with his fingers but her mouth was too good. The more she deep-throated him or sucked his balls, the less control he had. He was torn between needing to come in her mouth or buried deep in her sex.

"Laure," he gasped. "I want to come inside you. I want to feel you around me."

Stopping her mid-bob, he lifted himself upright and turned her onto her knees. Bent at the waist, her legs trapped between his and her hands against the wall to support her, she was wet enough to thrust into her with one sure movement. And then it was a race to the finish. Her sex fitted so tightly around his cock as she rammed back to meet him. He was aware of the urgent gasps she made each time he surged inside of her, of her fingers digging into the flesh of his buttocks, urging him on. She felt so right, so perfect, he wanted to thrust inside of her, to immerse himself in her beautiful body until time stopped still. Yet, the more he succumbed, the harder it became to hold back. With one hand clamped to her stomach to pull her tighter onto his thrusting cock, and the other on her clit, he hammered into her hard and deep until they both cried out in a frenzied release.

Laid across the bed in a tangled mass of tired but sated limbs, Todd placed a hand under her chin and raised her head to plant a gentle kiss on her lips. It was difficult to stop at just one kiss. Lying beside her, he marvelled at how he wanted her again. He wanted to show her how much she meant to him. He wanted to penetrate her soul just as he had the first time they'd made love in London. But he forced himself under control before the urge to tie her to the bed and make love to her for the rest of the vacation got the better of him. He had a full fortnight of Laure-filled days ahead and he planned to do everything he could to persuade her to be part of his life as a permanent fixture. And not for the sake of his privacy, this time. If she didn't want marriage, he'd settle for anything she could offer.

"Why don't you get dressed? I'm going to take a cold shower and change." He stood up and walked towards the bathroom.

"Cold?" she questioned.

"Cold," he nodded, a wolfish gleam in his eyes. "Because if you don't cover yourself up right now, chérie, I will have to make love to you again."

He continued to the bathroom. "I believe there's some wine in the cooler. Are you hungry yet? I could make us some dinner."

Laure watched his naked ass disappear, her mind and body in complete agreement. He had the most mouth-wateringly sexy body, she'd even seen, especially his ass. She started to rise to follow him into the shower but his prolonged and passionate love-making had sapped her energy, leaving her languid and indolent. Already, she missed his touch, his warmth, the way he completed her. Mmmh, next time.

The sound of Todd whistling in the shower pulled her back to reality. The change in his demeanour since they'd made love in London was difficult to explain. The contrast between the person who had taken an instant dislike to her on first sight at La Tourettes, and the person who opened himself up completely to her when they made love was as different as chalk and cheese, black and white, Jekyll and Hyde. The Todd St. Vignes who was busy washing the traces of their passionate lovemaking from his body in the room next door was relaxed, almost playful.

Walking naked across the hallway to the guest bathroom, Laure resolved to live in the present, to enjoy every moment with him while he was here. She didn't know how he'd managed to find time in his busy filming schedule to be with her but he was here with her now. And, after her initial fright, she was thrilled to be with him again and thrilled that he wanted to make love to her. As for the future? It was up to the fates how it would pan out.

# Chapter 14

Todd was in the kitchen, with his head in the fridge, when she emerged from the master bedroom freshly showered, barefooted and wearing a pair of casual shorts and a shoe-string t-shirt.

"Hello beautiful." He snuck a kiss on her mouth, holding back from grabbing her - of giving in to his full desire. Fuck, she naked under her shorts and t-shirt. "I've been checking out dinner. How about a peppered steak and salad?"

"Sounds great." She perched on a kitchen stool alongside the breakfast bar while he removed the salad vegetables from the fridge and placed them on the work surface. There were a hundred and one questions buzzing around her head but only one that she needed to ask at that precise moment.

"How long do you plan to stay?"

He had changed into a pair of blue shorts and a casual shirt unbuttoned to the waist to reveal the bronzed, toned muscles of his chest and stomach. Like her, he was barefooted and his dark hair was still wet and swept back from his eyes. To Laure, he looked sex-clenchingly gorgeous. It was difficult to believe he was really standing in front of her, relaxed and smiling, without a care in the world.

"Well, I guess that depends on you." He shot her a quick look, taking in her long, shapely legs and the swell of her breasts, definitely bra-less under her t-shirt. His cock stiffened without a conscious thought. Mon dieu. He could take her right now, on the kitchen work top. All he had to do was step between her legs... "Would you like a glass of champagne?"

Laure nodded.

"You've changed since I last saw you," she stated bluntly. She waited for the dream to shatter and the old Todd to emerge.

"For the better or for the worse?" he replied nonchalantly as he took a bottle of champagne from the wine cooler and eased the cork from the neck without spilling a drop.

"I don't know yet. I'm still getting over the shock of seeing you."

"Did you like the way I said hello?" As he handed her a glass of champagne he flicked his tongue over his mouth to remind her how he'd woken her from her sexy dream. Their fingers touched as she took the glass from his hand. "Or would you rather I reverted to my old surly self? Would that reassure you?"

Laure returned his direct gaze. "What are you doing here, Todd? I thought you were about to start filming."

His face turned serious. "I came to see you, chérie. Would you rather I wasn't here?"

She shook her head. Her body still hummed from his lovemaking and the sight of his bare chest and his taut ass as he bent over to pick up something up from the floor made her fingers itch to touch him all over again. Hell, he even had sexy feet. Resisting the urge, she took a gulp of champagne but choked as the icy liquid slipped down her throat.

Immediately Todd put his glass down and came to her aid. He took the champagne from her hands and rubbed her back. "Good, because I really love being here with you." His eyes never left her face as his mouth hovered over hers for a brief moment before he closed onto her lips with a gentleness that caught her by surprise.

The touch of his hands on her back; the smell of his skin, fresh from the shower; the taste of champagne on his lips invaded Laure's senses. She opened her mouth to say something, anything, but his mouth expertly silenced her. Unable to pull away, she clung to him; her defences decimated more than ever before by the sensual potency of his kiss.

Finally he released her. He stepped back to study her flushed face. "Umm, that's more like it. You look like you've been thoroughly fucked and thoroughly kissed. And, on you, the look is very alluring." He swept his thumb across her lips before resuming the business of preparing lunch. "Could you whip up a salad dressing for me?"

Laure stared at him, speechless. Just like that, he had the ability to manipulate her. She wanted to scream and shout at him in protest. But mostly, she wanted him to kiss her again. She focused her mind on preparing the dressing instead.

Dinner was alfresco on the patio beside the pool. The sun was still warm and the light sea breeze had dropped away to almost nothing. They talked about the Maquis film schedule, about Laure's location projects, anything to avoid getting personal, until Laure broke the unspoken rule.

"How's your son?" she asked, reaching for a ripe peach from the fruit bowl.

Todd followed suit. "He's fine. You remember he's moved to LA to live with me now?"

Laure nodded.

"Dominique and her husband have moved in too. I thought Laurie would be safer there than in France, especially with the kidnappers awaiting trial." He used a sharp knife to cut into the ripe yellow flesh of a peach. "Oh, and he has a dog now. A new puppy called Georges." He looked across at her, zigzags of light from the pool reflecting in his eyes.

Laure smiled. The champagne, the food, the light-hearted conversation; everything was perfect. She could not think of a better way to share a meal. Basking in the golden ambience of the evening, she stretched out her legs to rest them against the side of his chair. Immediately, he stroked them.

"I've decided," she said, with a sexy grin.

"Decided what?"

"That I like you more like this. This change of character suits you. You're not so ready to bite my head off all the time, like you were in France."

The look on his face was priceless. Laure burst out laughing. Before he could retaliate, she leapt to her feet and darted across the patio.

"You little minx! I've a good mind to spank you for that remark!" He rose to follow her. "Come back here at once."

"Why should I?" she teased, feeling light-headed and flirtatious from the champagne and his company.

She sidestepped behind an orange bush to avoid being caught but Todd anticipated her move. Just as she reached the doorway of the kitchen he pulled her back against him and twisted her round. Her eyes danced with the last rays of sunshine as she faced him.

Todd took a deep breath. She was bewitching and beautiful, and he couldn't resist the soft curves of her body in his arms. "You really are beautiful, Laure. I've missed you." His face was no longer mocking as he pushed back the stray spirals of hair from her cheeks and kissed her, holding her tight against his erection; his arm wrapped around her back.

As he took control, deepening his kiss, all coherent thought fled her mind. No-one had ever kissed her like Todd and no-one was ever likely to again. She allowed herself to be transported along on a tidal wave of sensual pleasure, tracing her fingertips against the pronounced rise of his chest beneath his shirt. When his tongue slide between her lips to toy with hers, she toyed back. The sensation was intoxicating. She felt daring, liberated, desired. His taste, his scent, his powerful masculinity empowered her.

When he drew back her eyes were glazed and her mouth swollen. With her hair down and flowing around her face, he could see that she was just as affected by the intense sexual attraction between them as he was. It was better than everything he'd hoped for when, against all logic, he found himself booking a flight to Corsica during an unexpected break before filming. He'd thought of nothing else but making love to her again ever since London. Talking to her on the phone only made it worse. And even though he'd made love to her all afternoon, all it took was a look, a smile, a single pout, and he was hard and ready to make love to her again. He drew her legs up around his hips and moulded her sex against his erection, needing the connection, the comfort, the solace only she could give as she curled her arms around his neck and sought out his mouth.

"I don't think I'll ever stop wanting you, Laure. You're under my skin. You've stolen my sanity," he whispered into her mouth. Her breasts and hips pressed against him; driving him to distraction with their soft yearning demands.

Laure dipped her head to one side. His hands were doing wonderful things down the length of her spine; things that made her lose all sense of reality, while his lips burned her skin, turning her insides to liquid fire. She slipped her hands inside his shirt and swept her fingers over his chest, needing to feel him naked beneath her fingertips. When her mouth replaced her fingers to trace a languid line of kisses along his collar bone, a deep groan rumbled in his throat.

Mirroring her action, Todd slid his hand beneath her t-shirt to cup her breast. The erect tip of her nipple pressed against the centre of his palm and her skin felt hot beneath his fingers. He brushed the pad of his thumb across the sensitive skin and felt her instant arousal. Fuck, she was the most responsive, sensual being he'd ever met.

He manoeuvred her against the breakfast bar, his mouth searing her face and neck while he increased the pressure of his thumb. Her t-shirt bunched around her neck. He tugged it over her head and lifted her up onto the work top to take her nipples into his mouth. Her skin tasted of orange blossom, and the heat of her skin burned his lips while her soft, mewing moans drove him crazy. He told himself to slow down, make it last, but the more he took his fill, exploring her breasts, her mouth and neck, even her belly-button, the more urgent became his need.

His fingers flew to the waistband of her shorts and tore at the fastenings that denied him access. Frantic kisses missed her mouth, landing on her neck and chest, as he slid her shorts down her legs and released his cock from its confines. Pulling her hips towards him in one smooth movement, he entered her quickly, exhaling deeply as her silky centre contracted around his shaft. He watched the emotion flash across her face; knowing his own emotions mirrored hers. He felt her body stretch to accommodate him, felt her breasts rubbing against his chest and experienced something inside of him expand, along with his cock. Each time he made love to her, the more he wanted her. She was in his head, in his heart, in his blood; inciting his passion, feeding his soul.

Exposed and raw, words poured from his lips, in the universal language of love. He knew she understood when tears streamed down her beautiful cheeks and she cupped his jaw with both hands to steal the words from his mouth with her lips while he supported her using the muscles in his legs and arms. Fused as one, from lip to cock, he stilled.

"Tell me you're mine, Laure. That you belong to me and no-one else," he rasped. "I couldn't bear to lose you again."

Staring at his beautiful, expressive face between her hands, Laure melted. "I'm yours, Luc, for as long as you want me."

All the emotion he felt at hearing her use his birth name he focused on making her believe how much she meant to him. Making love to Laure transcended his past and even his future. She'd used his real name to signify she was making love to the man, not the famous movie director. His impassioned thrusts drove them both relentlessly to the brink of orgasm; to the moment that Laure cried out his real name again, begging for release. With one final surge, he took them both over the edge, filling her mind, body and soul, with an explosive energy that freed them both.

Afterwards, he rested his forehead against her neck. Sweat glistened across his back and shoulders, and his chest heaved as his heart beat dropped back to normal.

"Fuck Laure, that was amazing." His breathing was laboured as he withdrew.

Laure lifted her head from his shoulder. Why was it she felt vibrant and alive, yet her body still craved his touch. She nuzzled a kiss on the side of his mouth.

Todd brought his head up to gaze at her. Her eyes were bright and her hair tumbled around her flushed face and breasts. The "just made love" look made her even more beautiful, and in his eyes, the sexiest thing he'd ever seen. Her skin had a rosy hue, her lips were swollen from his kisses, and her emerald green eyes spoke to him of wanton desire and sexual promise. He could not resist. The scent of her skin mingled with the smell of sex drew him in, and enslaved him all over again.

"Fuck. How do you do it?" he asked, incredulous.

"Do what?"

"Make me want you all over again, even though I've just come inside of you."

She gave an enigmatic smile. "I was just about to say the same." She wrapped her legs around his waist.

"Come to bed with me." He lifted her off the work top surface and slid her down the length of his body to place her back on her feet. Her shorts and t-shirt lay in a discarded heap on the floor. She went to pick them up.

"Leave them." He took her in his arms and kissed her eyes and the bridge of her nose, enjoying the sensation of her lithe naked body moulding effortlessly against his as he worked down to her mouth.

"Come to bed," he repeated, whispering into her hair. "I want to make love to you in every room of the villa."

Laure pulled back and smiled at him. "We've already tried the kitchen and the master bedroom. Where do you want to do it next?" The swollen tips of her nipples brushed against his chest and her hips pressed into his thighs. Unable to resist him, she looped her arms around his neck and sought out his mouth.

"Let's start with the guest bedrooms and work downwards," he gave her a sexy grin and smacked her ass. "That includes the bathrooms, the showers and the wardrobes too, by the way." He tugged her up the stairs, shedding the rest of his clothes on the way.

When they reached the nearest guestroom on the upper level, he pulled her in front of him with her back firmly against his chest and cupped her breast with one hand, sliding two fingers of his other hand into her sex to stimulate her wet heat. He kissed the side of her neck and draped her opposite arm loosely around his neck so that he had full access to fondle her breasts and rib cage.

When she slipped her other arm around his neck and arched back against his chest he slid his free hand across her stomach and plunged into her sex to increase her pleasure. He was ready and from sweet whimpers of satisfaction she was making, so was she.

"Up against the wall, Laure."

She did as he commanded, facing away from him, as he trapped her between the unresisting surface and his body. Hooking a hand behind her right knee, he raised her leg and positioned the tip of his cock barely inside her sex, just enough for her to clench him and for him to tease her. She turned her face against the wall to kiss him, accepting his fingers to taste her own juices.

Imprisoned against the wall by his body, she could not move, but the sensation of his cock gliding in and out of her sex transcended her discomfort. His dominance was both savage and exciting. Each time he pushed into her with sure, powerful strokes, he stretched her further, filled her deeper. She felt the muscles in his legs tense and rub against the back of her thighs, felt his abs against her lower back. She wanted to touch his ass, feel the muscles in his buttocks clench and release as he drove himself into her but he raised her hands either side of her body and held them flat against the wall, elbows bent. She felt his teeth nip the back of her shoulder blades then the pain faded as he kissed and sucked her tender skin. And still he filled her up until nothing else existed but the thrusting rhythm of his thick cock, under her skin, in her head, as vital as the air that she breathed.

"You. Feel. So. Good, Chérie." The need to orgasm hit them both at the same time. While Laure clenched her inner muscles around his shaft, Todd gave her three fast, earth-shattering thrusts and roared his release.

# Chapter 15

Waking up the next morning with Todd's hand curled possessively across her hips and the smell of freshly laundered linen against her nose, Laure stretched and smiled. Somehow they'd made it to the master bedroom after making love in two of the guest bedrooms but how she'd got there, she had no recollection. Todd was still asleep, exhausted from jetlag, but his body was ready to make love again. The early morning sun streamed through the shutters casting a golden pathway to the bed.

Aware that he'd spent almost 24 hours travelling to be with her, Laure let him sleep on. She planted a light kiss on the centre of his chest and swung her legs over the side of the bed to walk naked to the shower. Five minutes later, Todd joined her in the shower and they made love under the warm jets of water.

"What would you like to do today?" Todd asked. He helped himself to a flaky, buttery croissant while Laure refilled his cup with steaming, aromatic coffee. They sat on the patio sharing breakfast while Todd checked his emails on his laptop.

"I don't mind. I'm happy whatever we do?"

"Are you sure?" He closed the lid of his laptop and looked at her. She was wearing a tiny bikini, her skin already kissed with the start of a golden tan. "Would you like to explore the island?" He reached across the table to brush a wispy flake of pastry from her mouth. He would have preferred to move it with his tongue on her lips but knew he wouldn't be content to stop there.

"I'd like to explore to explore the island at some time, but I'll be happy to lounge by the pool today if you have to work."

"I am tired. It's probably jet-lag, or maybe you wore me out last night with your incessant demands on my body." He dragged her chair towards him and pulled her onto his lap.

Laure needed no words to recognise his intent. She draped her arms around his neck. "Monsieur St. Vignes, I don't think it's you who's worn out. It's me," she laughed. "Now I know why French men have a reputation for being great lovers."

"I'm glad I could satisfy your curiosity, amongst other things." He covered her mouth with his. "Mmmh. OK, so why don't we go out tomorrow? We can lunch out and spend the day exploring the island, if you like. Today, I'd like to do a different kind of exploring." He slipped his hand beneath her top to caress her breasts, still tender from the night before, while his erection pressed hard against her thighs.

Laure shuddered, her whole body aflame with an urgent need to feel him inside of her. "Mmmh, that would be great. I'd love to see some of the local colour," she gasped as his mouth covered her nipple.

If Todd's excuse for staying at the villa was jet lag, Laure had no cause to complain. The day passed quickly. They made love, talked, swam naked in the pool together and made unhurried love all over again, in ways that Laure could never have imagined.

When the heat of the mid-day sun drove them indoors, into the air-conditioned cool, she made love to him in the lounge, on the floor in front of the full-length windows. The sensual atmosphere of the garden; the sunlight, the scent of the flowers and orange trees, coupled with the tranquil sound of the birds, gave Laure a boldness she didn't know she possessed. This time she took control, crawling up his body on her hands and knees then straddling his hips to make love to him selflessly, enjoying the heat of his skin against hers until the urgency of her desire released them both.

When the temperature dropped, in the early evening, they made slow, languid love on the roof terrace. Todd's hands cradling her breasts as he bent her over the balcony; his face immersed in the perfume of her skin and hair, as they watched the cruise ships depart.

And then came the evening, when his passion took on a darker dimension. He started by blindfolding her with a silk scarf while they sipped wine in the garden surrounded by the sound of cicadas and night animals. Earlier, he'd found her vibrator buried beneath her underwear. "So how often do you use this? And should I be offended?" he asked, flicking on the switch of her battery-operated- boyfriend.

"I've been without a man for nearly a year," she replied, grinning beneath her blindfold. "A girl's got to get by some how. Plus, the only reason I brought it with me was because I thought I was going to be on my own for two weeks."

"I see. I want you to place your hands behind you and open your legs. I am going to touch you now but you are not permitted to touch me unless I say so. Do you understand?" His voice was low, almost a whisper in her ear.

Laure nodded. Anticipation for what he was about to do made her sex cream. She was already turned on by his voice, by his touch, by their idyllic, secluded surroundings but imaging what he was about to do to her, she felt her sex spasm and her juices flow harder.

He undid the ties of her halter-neck top and rolled the device against her nipples, watching her stiffen in response. Using only the vibrator he touched all around her breasts and down her sides, watching her tremble from his insistent touch.

"Have you used this since you met me?"

She would have burst out laughing at his question had she not recognised, from the tone of his voice, that he wasn't in the mood for flippancy. He was actually jealous of her vibrator. "Yes, mostly after we spoke on the phone."

Her answer seemed to satisfy him. He discarded her top and lifted her onto the patio table with her skirt bunched around her hips. Slipping off her sandals, he pressed the ridges of the vibrator against the soles of her feet. The sensation was pleasurable, tingly, but not as pleasurable as when he started to stroke it up her calves, behind her knees and right the way up to the inside of her thighs. Laure guessed, from the angle of his movements, he was seated in front of her, her thong-clad sex on his eye-level. She felt his warm fingers slide beneath the thin fabric. When he circled the electronic device around her lower lips through her panties, she bit down on her lower lip to stop from whimpering.

Suddenly she was panting and trembling for release. She raised her hands to support herself on his shoulders.

"You are not permitted to touch me. Hands behind you. Laure, or I'll have to tie you up."

Still holding the vibrating, ribbed tip against her sex, he dragged her panties down her legs and over her ankles. She could feel his breath against the soft skin of her inner thighs as he regarded the glistening folds of her sex. She should have felt embarrassed sitting on a table, naked and exposed to his view, and completely under his command, but it was exciting to second guess what he would do next. A zinging buzz around her clit made her squirm.

"Keep still."

To test her obedience, he circled her clit again. He kept up the intense pleasure and torture for several, prolonged minutes before sliding it into her sopping, wet sex, just the tip at first, and then all the way.

"Fuck Todd. I can't keep still. I'm going to come."

"If you come before I tell you to, I'll have to spank you." Leaving the vibrator buried in her sex, he tied her hands behind her back and lifted her off the table and over his knee. He massaged her buttocks, pushing the vibrator deeper as his hands caressed her naked cheeks. The raised ridges connected with her clit causing her to writhe shamelessly. And then came the first blow.

From out of nowhere, the sound of hard flesh hitting soft echoed through the air. Laure yelped and struggled harder. The second blow hit her on the left cheek. It stung like hell, until he massaged the pain away. Involuntarily her muscles clenched around the vibrator, taking it deeper, feeling every hard, latex ridge. She almost came on the spot, but then he rained a series of evenly-timed, stinging blows across the back of her legs, the top of her ass, and across each cheek, in quick succession and she really did come, loudly and violently across his lap, his hands working their soothing magic across her sore cheeks, while the vibrator brought her off. Only when the last rippling wave of orgasm left her, did he slid it from her sex and lift her back onto the table, still blind-folded and bound, and overwhelmed from the intensity of her climax.

"I think we're both going to enjoy using this on you."

She could hear the grin in his voice as his fingers circled her juice-slicked sex. Two fingers glided inside of her and then a third, filling her up and moving back and forth across the quivering bundle of tight nerve-endings. She felt the fingers of his other hand loosen her binds and then she was pushed back onto the table with her legs bent and his mouth clamped around her breast. Working her into a frenzy of sexual need, he made her come hard around his fingers. Then he bent his head to taste her juices until she had nowhere left to hide from him. He owned her body, her mind, her heart, her soul. And she loved him for it.

Afterwards, as they lay in bed, limbs entangled, Laure lay on her side and studied his face.

"Why is it, with you everything feels so much more?"

Todd opened his eyes and smiled. "That's because you have the power to make me experience more. I'm only giving back what you give to me."

Laure shook her head. "It's not me, it's you. With you, I feel so alive, so sexy, so complete, exposed. When you make love to me, I feel as though you touch my soul, and, for the first time in my life, I know my place in the universe, as though I'm one of those stars shining in the night sky."

Todd drew her on top of him. What she had just expressed filled him with an overwhelming sense of peace and happiness. In that moment he knew, as surely as night followed day, that she loved him, just as he loved her. He held her tight until they fell asleep.

The next morning, after waking her up in his own special way, Todd kept his promise to show her around the island. Wearing jeans, a white linen shirt, and the obligatory reflective sunshades, he looked relaxed as he manoeuvred the soft-topped car he had hired from the airport down the steep, winding hillside dotted with olive groves.

Laure wore a strapless cotton sundress and low-heeled sandals. With the wind tugging at her hair, she could almost pretend she was one of the affluent jet set, or an actress in one of his films. Pretend was the right word, she admitted silently to herself. Although she enjoyed being with him and could finally admit to herself that she was in love with him, she no more fitted into his world than he fitted into hers. She wondered whether his life was always so glamorous or whether the glamour eventually palled, recalling her own experience, following the film premier in London, when, for a few days, the media had hounded her about her relationship with Todd. Living under the intrusive scrutiny of the media spotlight and the film-going public on a constant basis, it would be almost impossible to keep a sense of perspective, she mused. She could understand his original mistrust of her better.

The journey down to the village took less than twenty minutes and the rugged scenery was spectacular. Laure's mind buzzed with ideas.

"You know you could have set your film here in Corsica. The scenery is even more dramatic here than in the South of France."

"I could have done, but your hunch about La Tourettes was spot-on."

Laure turned in her seat and stared at him, waiting for enlightenment.

"The author was born in there. She used La Tourettes as the setting for her novel."

"That's amazing. I didn't realise. Does she still live there?"

"No, she moved to LA recently." He waited for her to catch on, his mouth twitching as he tried hard not to register his amusement.

"What?" Laure demanded. "Is there something I'm missing?"

"Dominique." He laughed out loud at the look of surprise on her face. "Dominique created the love affair between Michel and Aurelie. She wrote it around the real-life stories of the Maquis that lived around the village."

"So it was a romance after all!" Laure turned on him. "You were so nasty to me when we first met. I thought you were an absolute bastard."

"And do you still think I'm a bastard?" There was a look of challenge in his eyes. He pulled the car into a lay-by overlooking a rocky spur which led down to a secluded cove; his hands resting on the steering wheel.

"Well, I don't know much about your parentage," Laure teased. She smiled; her emotions clear for him to see. "But no, not any more."

In the blink of an eye, Todd bridged the space between them. It was several seconds before he released her, and when he did, Laure knew that she had been thoroughly kissed. She opened her eyes slowly, her lips vibrating with his warmth.

"We'd better think about lunch before I seduce you here on the side of the road."

"Wouldn't that be a shock for the other motorists? We might even get arrested."

"Do you want to find out?" He leant over to kiss her again, slipping his hand up the skirt of her dress to caress the heat between her legs.

Laure pushed him away playfully. "Do you remember the first time I met you? I asked whether you made a habit of silencing women by kissing them. Now I know it's true."

He smiled at the memory. "And it was on the tip of my tongue to tell you that women normally beg for more when I kiss them. Obviously, Laure Parker, you are the exception to the rule."

Laure rolled her bottom lip between her teeth and turned away. No, she was no exception. He only had to touch her for her insides to melt; and the way he looked at her when he thought she was sleeping gave her hope that their relationship was more enduring than sex, however amazing it was. She dared to think beyond the present, to the time when they would have to leave the idyllic surroundings of the villa to return to their normal lives, perhaps together.

Todd slipped the car into drive and proceeded along the coast road; past tranquil, sandy coves with shallow, turquoise water and rocky outcrops that tumbled steeply into the sea. And onwards, through sleepy, little villages where the locals sat in the shade, passing the time of day. They drove for almost an hour before he pulled off the road to park in a stone-walled lay-by lined with pine trees. He helped her out of the car and locked up.

A pathway, almost invisible between the trees, led down the cliff to a small fishing harbour below where a fleet of brightly coloured boats bobbed up and down, tethered to the quay which curved out towards the open sea.

"Are you OK to walk in those sandals? The path is quite steep but it is worth it."

Laure nodded. She was enchanted by the view and couldn't wait to explore.

Todd took her by the hand and guided her down the rugged path cut into the cliff, stopping from time to time to allow her to take photographs. She particularly liked a shot of her and Todd laughing together, which she set up and Todd directed using the automatic timer.

When they reached the bottom of the cliff, the pathway levelled out onto a cobbled street lined with tall, pastel-coloured buildings that backed up against the rock face. A small, rustic restaurant, with a handful of plastic tables and chairs set out under a white trellised awning, sat at the end of the harbour facing out to sea.

Todd nodded to the owner, and pulled out a chair for Laure to sit down.

"This is one of my favourite restaurants on the island. There is no menu as such - the owner serves up the catch of the day - but the food is delicious."

Laure marvelled at the modest setting. She loved the ambience and the rusticity but would never have given Todd credit for enjoying the same kind of simple surroundings as she did. He really was an enigma at times.

The proprietor; a rotund man with a beaming smile, came up to welcome them. He carried a basket of fresh bread and a large carafe of rosé wine. He passed the time of day talking to Todd then returned to the cool, sombre darkness of his tiny kitchen to prepare their meal. A carafe of water arrived as an afterthought.

Todd poured a glass of water and wine for the both of them and sat back to admire the view. With only the ramshackle trellis to provide shade, the sun was hot but a light sea breeze kept the temperature pleasant. He held her hand across the table, relaxed and at peace with the world.

"Did you really think I was a bastard when we first met?" he asked, a mock look of horror on his face.

Laure laughed. They were the only guests at the restaurant and she had a strong feeling that lunch was going to be one of those magical, easy-going occasions that she would remember for a long, long time to come.

"Yes," she replied. "You bit my head off for suggesting La Tourettes and when you bundled me into your car I thought you were just plain crazy. I think I understand now why you were so uptight with me back then and I'm glad I've had the chance to get to know you better."

Todd brought her hand to his lips and gave her a wicked smile. "Me too."

His touch was light yet it set Laure thinking about the breakfast they had shared earlier, when they had fed each other croissants and afterwards the early morning breeze from the terrace had fanned their heated bodies while they made slow, lazy love beside the pool. She knew, without looking at his face, that he was remembering it too.

While they waited for lunch to be served, Laure studied every detail of her surroundings.

Todd broke into her thoughts, a seductive smile on his face. "You're very pensive. What are you thinking about?"

"I was thinking how beautiful it is here. And how much it would cost to buy a small apartment, like the one up there." She pointed to the "For Sale" sign hanging on the balcony of one of the second floor apartments. The shutters and windows were open, allowing the sun to reflect off the ochre-coloured walls on the inside. Pots of brightly-coloured flowers crowded the window sill.

"Would you rather live up there than in the villa?" Todd queried.

Laure laughed. "That's not a fair comparison. The villa is, and always will be, a perfect paradise to me, but it's way beyond my meagre income. However, if a famous film director liked my work and my career took off in the near future, I might afford the apartment up there."

"So, you'd like to live up there?"

She smiled. "It would be my wildest dream. I can imagine myself living by the sea, capturing all the sounds, the smells and scenes below me on my camera, while I sip the odd glass of wine for inspiration."

Todd looked surprised. "Photography? I didn't realise you wanted to be a photographer."

Laure sighed. "One day, perhaps. I love working in the film industry but eventually I'd like to put down roots and channel some of the photographs I've taken while scouting locations into a book."

Todd was more interested in her idea of putting down roots. "This putting down roots. Does it include getting married, having children, and owning a dog?" His face was non-committal.

Laure's heart beat a little faster. Out of the corner of her eye she caught sight of an American newspaper discarded on the table next to them. The political headline served her a sharp reminder that their time together at the villa was finite. Since Todd had arrived, their relationship had moved to an exciting new level; a level where she had learnt more about him and also about herself. She had been happy just to be with him and to feel sated by his lovemaking, but now his question pushed her to think beyond the present again. She allowed herself to imagine a future for them.

"Yes, I suppose they do. Well, definitely a dog, at least," she laughed, trying to appear light-hearted. Her mind switched back to his proposal of marriage. She was tempted to ask whether the offer was still open but having declared the subject out of bounds she could not go back on her words, however much she wanted to. Unless he asked again.

"How about you?" she asked casually.

"Me? I'm content to take one day at a time," he replied. "Since the kidnapping, I've come to realise that life and happiness can't be taken for granted. I suspect you feel the same too. That's one of the reasons why, when I realised I had a gap in my schedule, I came out to join you."

Todd took a sip of wine, knowing she deserved more of an answer.

"The kidnapping made me re-evaluate my goals and beliefs. As you quite rightly pointed out, fame makes one defensive, even paranoid. I was too uptight, too guarded. Spending time with you, holed up in that derelict villa... it changed me. Gave me a new slant on life."

He reached for her hand to say more but the proprietor arrived with a sizzling plate of calamari rings in a crisp, golden batter, served with vibrant wedges of lemon and a bowl of fresh mayonnaise.

"These were caught in the harbour a couple of hours ago," the proprietor said. "Bon appetit."

The food, though simple, was just as Todd had described, delicious. Almost three hours after they arrived they were still seated at the table, drinking coffee and enjoying the relaxed ambience of their surroundings.

Todd checked his watch. "I promised to give you a tour of the island today and it's already mid-afternoon. Do you still want to visit the main town? It's another three quarters of an hour away from here, once we climb back up the cliff."

Laure stretched out her legs and sighed. "No thanks. I've had such a lovely, laid-back lunch, I'm feeling completely chilled. Besides, we have the rest of the holiday to explore. For now, I'd be quite happy to go back to the villa and laze by the pool for the rest of the day. How about you?"

Todd nodded, the corners of his mouth turned up in wry smile. Lazing by the pool sounded perfect, particularly if it meant seeing her naked and making love again.

"OK. We'll stop off in the village on the way back to pick up some fresh bread." He stood up to pay the bill. "But never let it be said that I held you captive at the villa as my sex-slave for the entire holiday."

Laure laughed. "What is it about you? Every time we're together, I end up being held hostage! Is this some strange fetish of yours?"

"Mmmm, bondage! Now there's a thought. I like the idea of having a beautiful young woman at my complete mercy. Come here." He slipped an arm around her shoulders and planted a kiss on the tip of her nose.

They drove back at a leisurely speed, content to enjoy the spectacular scenery. When they arrived at the village, a fiesta was in full swing and the tiny open square was transformed into a bustling market, packed with tourists and locals. Gaily-coloured umbrellas contrasted against the vivid hues and pungent smells of the local produce.

Todd parked the car and took Laure's hand to meander through the market square and through the maze of narrow, cobbled back streets. The intense colours, sounds, and aromas were a sensory feast for Laure and, with Todd at her side, she couldn't have been happier. She took as many photographs as she could, including some of Todd when he wasn't aware.

"I think there's a bakery around the corner. Yes, here it is." He followed his nose to a tiny shop nestled between a bijouterie on one side and pottery workshop-boutique on the other. As they passed the window of the jewellers, a solid silver bangle, set with turquoise mother-of-pearl caught Laure's eye.

"Oh, that's beautiful. The colours remind me of the view from the villa overlooking the bay." The price tag was discretely tucked out of view.

Todd peered at the bangle. "Do you like it?"

"Yes, I'd love it but I can't afford it."

Todd tried hard to suppress his pleasure. "If you like it so much, let me buy it for you?"

"No, Todd, it's a very kind offer but I couldn't."

"Why not?"

"Because... I don't want you to. It wouldn't be right. And besides, I'd be frightened of losing it."

"Don't you ever give in to impulse?" he mocked.

"All the time, but not where money is concerned. I've just seen the price tag on the bracelet next to it. It's almost equivalent to half a month's mortgage on my London flat!"

Determined not to let him buy it for her, she steered him away from the jewellers and into the bakery where they bought fresh sticks of crusty bread, and warm croissants. Todd took her arm and guided her back towards the car.

"Would you like something to drink? All this shopping has made me thirsty." He stopped at a café facing the market.

Laure nodded. He pulled out her chair as she sat down at the nearest table under a parasol, out of the glaring afternoon sun.

Todd remained standing. "Would you mind ordering a beer for me? I've just remembered something I needed to get for dinner tonight. I promise I won't be long." He bent down and planted a light kiss on her mouth before retracing his steps.

Laure watched him disappear, admiring the casual energy in his walk, and the way his clothes hugged his athletic frame. Basking in a warm glow of happiness, she ordered two beers and sat back to indulge in one of her favourite past-times, people-watching.

Todd returned his credit card and receipt to his wallet. His phone rang as he picked up his purchase. He checked the number.

"Hello... yes, that's right." Pocketing the package, he stepped out of the shop into a stream of warm sunlight, his expression solemn. "...That's interesting....And you believe the stalker is here on the island?" He stopped dead in his tracks.

"...Yes, Ms. Parker is here, with me....Can you repeat that?" His face paled.

"...Well, I had intended to stay at the villa for another twelve days but, from what you've just told me, I guess I'm going to have to change my plans. You have the address on file? Good... That's right. I'll have to reschedule my flights but I'll be flying into LAX via Paris Charles de Gaulle. I'll let you know the times....OK, officer. I'll bear that in mind."

Todd flipped off his phone and let out a deep breath. The LAPD had found a number of files taken from his office at the time of the break-in dumped in a rubbish bin at the back of one of the film lots. One of the files contained the address of the villa in Corsica, and the name of the owner.

To make matters worse, immigration had reported that one of their suspects - the one they believed most likely to be Todd's stalker - was currently on the island. Once again Laure was under suspicion though, for reasons best known to the police, they were not prepared to explain why. Todd ran his free hand through his hair. The phone call changed everything. Replacing the phone in his pocket, his fingers brushed the brightly packaged box he'd just paid for. His instincts couldn't be wrong about her. Could they? It didn't make any sense.

"It's Ms. Parker, isn't it? Why, fancy meeting you here."

Laure twisted in her chair to stare at a dark form silhouetted against the bright sunlight. She didn't need to see the face. She would have recognised the Texan drawl and the voluptuous figure anywhere.

"Ms Dunstone. What are you doing here?" A curl of suspicion coiled in her stomach. Was it coincidence that Heather was in Corsica the same time as Todd? Or was Heather the owner of the villa that they were staying in; hence Todd's familiarity with the place?

Without asking Laure's permission, Heather pulled out a chair from the table and sat down next to her. "I had a break in filming. Someone mentioned how lovely the island was and I decided to visit."

Laure watched her remove her jacket to reveal a low-cut, strapless sun dress very similar to her own, and marvelled at the feat of engineering required to keep Heather's ample bosom in place. The former model looked every inch the glamorous Hollywood star that she was, even disguised by her dark glasses.

"Where's Todd?" Heather raised her sunglasses to the top of her head and gave Laure a piercing look through violet-tinted contact lenses.

The niggling sensation in Laure's head rose to red alert. She hesitated. Long enough for Heather to note her discomfort.

"It's alright, I know all about you and Todd being fuck-buddies." She gave Laure a patronising smile.

"You do?"

"Yes. I know you've been fucking him for some time now. And that you've been working on some projects for him."

"Really?" Laure felt like a field-mouse being courted by a barn owl.

"Please don't play coy with me, Ms. Parker. You seem to forget, I've known Todd for years. We were engaged, you know?"

Sensing that Heather was about to go into the intimate details of her own relationship with Todd, Laure hastily changed the subject. The last thing she wanted to hear was Heather going on about his sexual likes and dislikes.

"So, you're here on holiday, Ms Dunstone. Isn't the island stunning?" Half of her wished that Todd would return to bail her out, and the other half hoped that Heather would leave, before he came back. Sixth sense told her that Heather wouldn't leave them alone if she chanced to see him.

"Oh please, call me Heather. After all, we have a very special man in common, don't we? Don't you think Todd's just great? So sexy. And so talented, if you know what I mean."

Laure squirmed in her seat. So that was Heather's game. To undermine her. Fortunately, the waiter arrived with the beers.

Heather turned on her charm. "I'll have a Vodka Martini." She leant forward and flashed her tits, giving the waiter good view.

Laure gave a silent groan as the poor man tripped over the people seated at the next table on route back to the bar.

"So, how are you and Todd enjoying your little fuck-fest? Where are you staying?"

For the second time in a matter of minutes, Laure was at a loss for words. She did not want to talk about her relationship with Todd or where they were staying to anyone, least of all Heather.

"I... We..."

"Heather?" Todd materialised at her shoulder. His eyes darted between them. "What are you doing here?

If Laure had known him better, she would have thought that Todd had just experienced some kind of epiphany, as she watched a range of emotions flash across his face.

"Todd, darling. Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes?" Heather stood up to greet him; her eyes sweeping over his sexy frame with open admiration. She greeted him with an open-mouthed kiss on the lips that extended to a full-on tonsillectomy.

Todd recovered quickly. "Er...you too. I, umm, I thought you were filming in Eastern Europe."

"I was, darling. But the producer and the director had a massive spat, so everyone's been given a week off. It's so wonderful to see you." Heather pulled him down onto the seat next her and crossed her legs so that her bronzed, bare thigh brushed against his.

Immediately Laure was forgotten, excluded from the conversation. So much for the cosy, woman-to-woman chat they'd been having before Todd arrived, Laure mused. Heather's gloves were well and truly off.

"What are you doing here, darling?" Heather leant forward to give him an eyeful of her cleavage.

"The same as you," he replied, nonplussed. "I had a short break in filming so I came over to stay with a friend." He turned to Laure and placed the gift-wrapped package on the table in front of her.

Heather caught the quick exchange of glances between them. She flicked her long-lashed eyes over Laure and then the package on the table before turning her attention back to Todd.

"Where are you staying?"

"In a private villa on the south-west of the island. How about you?"

"I'm at The Galan Hotel," Heather drawled. "It's supposed to be a luxury, private spa but it's an absolute joke, darling. The suite they have given me is too small and the staff are hopeless. Say, I couldn't come and stay with you, could I? I'd be eternally grateful." She flashed Todd one of her most devastating smiles, leaving Laure in no doubt exactly what Heather meant by grateful. The way she was flaunting her body at him was so explicit it bordered on soft porn. Even the waiters stopped serving to stare at her.

Laure picked up her beer; the joy of the day lost to a growing sense of disquiet.

"Actually, I'm flying back to LA tomorrow," Todd replied.

Laure's eyes flew wide to his face. Was there a problem with the film? How long had he known he was leaving and when had he planned to tell her? A hot flush stained her cheeks. From the way he ran his fingers through his hair, she realised one thing. Heather's arrival had placed him at a disadvantage.

"Well, frankly darling, I've had enough of this place. Maybe you and I can fly back to LA together? What flight are you on?" Heather persisted. She tossed her long blonde hair over her shoulder.

"I'm still waiting for my office to confirm," Todd replied. He didn't need to look at Laure to know his announcement had caught her off guard. It wasn't exactly in line with his plans either. "So, how is the film going, Heather? Have Don and Rick really had a fight?"

Heather signalled for another drink then, with eyes only for Todd, she monopolised him mercilessly, without regard for Laure's feelings.

Contrary to Laure's expectations, Todd did nothing to discourage her. They discussed mutual Hollywood friends and current projects, excluding Laure, until she felt utterly superfluous. Pissed with the both of them, she excused herself from the table on the pretext of freshening up. When she returned, Todd's eyes searched her face.

Laure ignored him. It was only when he reached for her hand under the table that her jealousy dissipated. Reassured by his touch, it no longer mattered that Heather was doing her best to seduce Todd. On the other hand, the fact that he was flying back to LA the next day did.

It took almost an hour before they could make a polite departure. They finally left Heather at the restaurant signing autographs. When they reached the car, Todd pulled her towards him, trapped her between his legs and planted a lingering kiss on her mouth.

"What was that for?" Laure asked as she climbed into her seat.

"Do I have to have a reason?" He dropped the gift-wrapped package into her lap and climbed in beside her. When he turned to face her, his face was solemn.

Laure's stomach lurched. Something was wrong, dreadfully wrong.

"Open your present," he commanded.

Laure stared blindly at it. Even without unwrapping the gaily-coloured paper, she knew it contained the silver and mother-of-pearl bangle she'd admired so much in the jewellers' window. Her heart sank. So it was true; he _was_ flying back to LA. It wasn't a bluff for Heather's benefit. And the gift was his way of saying "It was fun while it lasted but now it's over." Her enjoyment at being alone with him again was wrenched away, leaving a black cloud in its place.

She looked up at him, a traitorous tear clinging to her eyelashes. "What time are you flying back tomorrow?"

Todd exhaled through his teeth. The police had explicitly told him not to say anything to spook her. Whether for his safety or for hers, at that precise moment he couldn't tell. "I'm not sure yet. I need to make a few phone calls when we get back to the villa before I can book a flight."

"Todd, if there a problem with the film you must go. I understand." She tried her best to hide her feelings but her desolate expression belied her words.

"I know," he sighed. He brushed a knuckle down her cheek to catch the tear. "Open your present," he repeated.

Laure shook her head. "I can't accept it, Todd. It's very kind of you, but really, I can't." She handed it back to him.

Todd frowned. "I don't understand. I want to give you something as a memento of our time together. You said the colours reminded you of the view from the villa. I would like you to have it." He pushed the package back into her hands but his harsh tone only served to make matters worse.

"I'm sorry, Todd. I really can not accept it." There was a determined tilt to her chin.

Todd slipped the car into gear. Her defences were up again and he knew better than to argue or tell her she was being churlish. She was disappointed at the sudden news of his departure. So was he, and if he could, he would have done anything not to hurt her. But it was for that precise reason that he had to leave. The LAPD claimed they had clear evidence which pointed to Laure being his stalker. He didn't agree with them, especially since discovering that Heather was on the island too. Yet, until he could convince them otherwise, he could not explain to her why he had to leave so abruptly.

They drove the short journey back to the villa in silence. Several times Laure tried to frame the words to explain her refusal to accept his gift but the persistent thought that Todd had to return to LA in a matter of hours, tore at her like a knife. Against her best attempts not to, she had fallen in love with him. Yet, never once, even in the throes of passion, had he said the L word or offered any real sign of commitment. His earlier offer of marriage had not been restated and she was not naïve. Fucking, sex, whatever you wanted it to call it, did not equate to love. And she knew the film business. She couldn't compete against the unpredictable process of making films.

When they arrived at the villa Todd's mood was withdrawn.

"I have some phone calls to make," was all he said before disappearing into the garden.

Laure sat in the lounge, pretending to read one of her scripts, while Todd paced up and down the patio with his mobile phone glued to his ear. She guessed something momentous had gone wrong with the film, presumably the financing, because Todd's body language was as tense as a coiled spring and she lost count of the number of times he dragged his hand through his hair. All she could think of was that the day that had started off so perfectly had descended into a nightmare. It was as though neither of them could bear to speak to one another.

Finally Todd went to the master bedroom to deal with his emails and phone calls in private.

"Can I get you something to eat or drink?" Laure asked when she popped her head round the bedroom door an hour later. The look she received sent a chill right through her. She decided to tackle the problem head-on. He was holding something back and her mind was going in all sorts of crazy directions.

"Todd, if you need to get back to LA, please don't worry about me. I understand, truly I do." She came up behind him to massage his back. "And I'm sorry about the bangle," she added as an afterthought, hoping that her apology might break the ice. "It was a lovely thought. It was rude of me to refuse."

Todd lowered the lid of his laptop quickly. "It doesn't matter. I'll take it back to the shop on the way back to the airport."

Her spirits hit rock bottom. "Do you know what time you have to leave?"

He let out a loud sigh, as though he was waging an internal battle with himself. Eventually he spoke. " _Why_ did you suggest La Tourettes for the Maquis film, Laure?"

Stunned, Laure stared at him blankly. "You know why I suggested it. Why bring this up again now? What's going on, Todd?"

The longer he stared at her in silent recrimination, the more agitated she became. "Is there something you're not telling me? Something about the kidnappers?"

"You tell me." Despite his best attempts to convince the police otherwise, the LAPD still believed that Laure was his stalker and that his life was in serious danger. Apparently, the evidence they had was conclusive. First thing tomorrow morning the police would arrive to arrest her. He wanted to give her one last chance to explain. He needed answers before walking away for good.

"I don't understand?"

"Don't you, Laure. Did you really think you could get away with it?"

At the sight of utter contempt on his face, Laure panicked. "I don't know what you're talking about. Please, Todd. Why are you behaving like this?"

Todd shook his head. She still refused to admit her guilt, even to him. The one woman he believed he could love for the rest of his life, and he'd allowed himself to be fooled. It was too sickening, too painful for him to stomach.

"Would you leave me alone, please? I need to pack."

Hurt by his attitude, Laure escaped to the garden to vent her despair. When he did not join her for dinner at eight o'clock she ate a sandwich on her own. By eleven-thirty, he still hadn't emerged from the master bedroom. Laure crept past the door and stood outside, not knowing whether to disturb him or not. When she heard his voice, low and urgent, she took herself off to one of the guest bedrooms and fell into a restless asleep.

Laure woke with a start, and a strong premonition that something was wrong. She was in a king-sized bed, in a strange room, on her own. She checked her digital watch. Two o'clock in the morning. The villa was quiet, except for the night animals outside, yet something had woken her up with a jolt. And the prickling sensation at the back of her neck got worse the longer she stared into the darkness. She threw a wrap around her shoulders and padded across the hallway to the master bedroom. Asleep on the bed, Todd was fully-clothed, his laptop and phone by his case on the floor, ready to leave.

As she listened to his soft, regular breathing, every cell in her body ached to lie down beside him, to draw comfort from the warmth and strength of his body. Unable to help herself, she nestled into his back.

Immediately Todd rolled over onto his side to face her.

"I missed you," she whispered. As she reached up to brush back the hair from his stern face, her wrap gaped open to reveal her naked breasts and stomach. In the half-light Laure wasn't sure, but she thought she caught a glimmer of desire light up his eyes. Needing affirmation, she took his hand and placed it against her heart, sliding her body close into his as she stretched up to kiss him.

"I want to make love to you," she whispered against his mouth. "Once more, before you go."

Her skin was alive to his touch. Emboldened by an aching need, she eased his shirt back from his shoulders and straddled his hips to glide her mouth down the length of his torso. She felt his body tense, felt his hands come up to push her off but she ignored him, deepening the intensity of her kisses and rubbing her sex against his erection until he groaned in response.

"Please Todd. Make love to me. One last time."

Unable to ignore his body's need, Todd took control. He stripped quickly and made love to her with a passion that rendered them both breathless. His touch inflamed her body like wild-fire as his hands and mouth laid claim to every inch of her, inciting her to new heights of ecstasy while his pain was clearly etched on his face. For the first time, he gave rein to raw lust, pouring all his ragged emotions into the physical act. His thrusts were savage and fierce, yet she clung to him, accepting, taking everything he could give her, not caring that he hurt her, only that he was inside of her, staking his claim. When they climaxed together, it was equally intense. A strangled cry escaped his lips as his orgasm went on and on and on, blinding sight and mind.

Todd laid his head against her chest, his breathing forced as his body recovered from the last throes of climax. It was several moments before he could raise his head to look at her but when he did his face was haggard. "I've been such a fool. Please forgive me."

Laure reached up to cup his cheek. "There's nothing to forgive, Todd. Besides, if that was make-up sex, perhaps we should fall out more often."

He kissed her on the lips, a slow, lingering kiss that filled Laure with hope until she opened her eyes and saw his face was serious again.

"There's something I have to tell you."

He raised himself up onto his elbows and gazed at her so intently, something froze in her heart. He was leaving. She shook her head, her heart breaking. "Please Todd, I don't want to hear it. Can't we stay like this for a little while longer?" She looped her arms over his shoulders and pulled him back down towards her, craving reassurance.

Todd allowed her one kiss then untangled her arms from his neck. "This is important, Laure. ...There's something you need to know." He reached out to cup her cheek.

Laure raised herself up to mirror his pose. Right now, she would sell her soul if it meant she could have one more day with him. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of something moving in the hallway. She peered over his shoulder to focus on the shape.

"What's Heather Dunstone doing here?"

"Heather?" Todd twisted round on his back as the actress-cum-model stepped out of the darkness into the room and switched on the lights. Her eyes appraised Todd's nakedness with a crazed, hungry look that set off more warning bells in Laure's brain.

"Well, haven't I just dropped in on a cosy scene?" She walked around the bed to openly ogle his flaccid cock and balls. "As much as I'm enjoying the view, darlin', you really should put some clothes on." She slapped him hard where his hip became his buttock then kissed her fingers before caressing the sting.

Laure lay wide-eyed on the bed, shocked into silence.

"What are you doing here, Heather?" Todd demanded evenly.

"You know, I just couldn't sleep thinking of you here and me on my lonesome." Heather cooed sweetly. "So I thought I'd drop in to keep you company. Oh, sorry. Did I need an invite?" Her eyes flicked over Laure's state of undress and the tangled sheets on the bed, the tell-tale signs of their passionate lovemaking, and her expression of amused malice changed to anger. She hauled Laure off the bed and threw her wrap at her.

"What do men see in a whore like you?"

Todd stood up quickly to place himself between them. "I don't know what you're doing here, Heather, but you have no right to barge in like this."

"Oh, really?" Heather snapped back. "You obviously don't read the showbiz press. We're engaged, darlin', to be married. As your fiancée, I have every right to know what you've been up to with this Brit-bitch fucking trollop in your multi-million dollar home from home."

" _Your_ home?" Laure interjected. "I thought this was your friend's villa."

Heather laughed as though she'd let a huge secret out of the bag on purpose. "Didn't you tell her this place belongs to you? What else haven't you told her? That you have a family in LA? That your real name's Luc Bestian? That, like it or not, you're going to marry me?"

"How do you know my name's Luc Bestian?" Todd demanded.

"That was the easy part, darlin'. All I had to do was break into your home in Malibu and find your personal documents. That's how I found out about your son. Of course, he'll be our son, once we get married."

Behind them, Laure sunk into a corner. She had the same déjà vu feeling she'd had in France; just before they were abducted. That she was taking part in a film scene, as a silent extra.

Heather's eyes flashed. "I don't give up easily. Especially when I know what I want."

"What do you want, Heather?" Todd demanded.

Observing the tense interplay between them, Laure realised exactly what Heather wanted. It was the same thing she'd wanted when she'd turned up at the London film premier uninvited. She wanted Todd, to the exclusion of anyone and everything else. Strangely, the fact that he was naked did nothing to diminish his authority. He still had the power to make things happen. On his silent signal, she pulled away from the corner.

"I want you, darlin'. Just you," Heather crowed. "And I'm going to have you."

As Laure closed up behind her, Heather pulled a compact, silver gun from her clutch bag. "One more step and you're dead, Ms. Location Scout. If it wasn't for you, I'd be Mrs. Todd St. Vignes by now."

Surprisingly, the weapon was the one thing about Heather that wasn't fake. Seeing it pointed at Laure, Todd's blood pressure went into melt-down figures. He had to do something to stop Heather. He had to keep her talking because if she was crazy enough to break into his house, his office, steal and crash his car, plus stalk him, she was capable of doing worse. And Laure was innocent. She knew nothing about the police investigations going on in LA and right now, here on the island.

"You've got it wrong. Laure has nothing to do with this. Why don't you let her go?"

Responding to his voice, Heather swung round and advanced towards him. She caressed the gun butt under his chin while her other hand traced his naked chest and downwards to the dark dusting of hair descending beyond his stomach. "You don't get it yet, do you? I love you. I've always loved you. And no Brit-Bitch fucking trollop is going to take you away from me." Her manicured hand slid down to grasp his soft cock. "I've waited a long time, longer than you realise. And now, you _will_ be mine."

Todd tried to keep his thoughts and face neutral while Heather's fingers tightened around his shaft, squeezing hard in a desperate attempt to elicit a rise from him.

"Do you know what it's like to love someone so much and discover that they are not interested in you?" her voice cracked. Tears streamed down her heavily-made up face, creating vivid streaks like rain on a watercolour painting. "You led me on and then discarded me like I was nothing. But you _are_ going to love me. I'm going to _make_ you. And I want you to fuck me. There, on that bed. Where you fucked her."

Todd shook his head. "I don't think so. This isn't love, Heather. It's obsession, and it's not right."

"Who are you to tell me it's not right? You don't know how I feel! The police don't know either. I love you, Todd."

He had to keep Heather talking for as long as possible. "You can't choose who you fall in love with any more than you can force someone to fall in love with you. You know the score, Heather. Onset romances only last until the next film. We've both moved on."

Laure watched Heather place the gun against Todd's chest. The safety catch was off and the actress-cum-model, eyes crazy and spittle forming at the corners of her mouth, was fast unravelling before them. Afraid for Todd's life, she pleaded with Heather. "Please don't do this," she begged. "We can get someone to help you."

Heather spun round and laughed at her. "And what sort of help do you think _you_ could offer me? The best thing you could do would be to disappear from Todd's life forever. In fact, that was the plan, if those French fools hadn't bungled it up."

Heather snorted at Laure's surprise. "You really don't have a clue. Do you, Ms. Dumb Ass?"

Todd was quicker on the uptake. "You were responsible for kidnapping us in France? You've been stalking me too, haven't you?" She had more cunning and vindictiveness than he gave her credit for. He took a step forward to divert Heather's focus from Laure back onto himself.

Immediately Heather went on the defensive. "I had to, don't you see? I broke into your house and found the flight ticket to Nice in your jacket pocket. I wanted to go with you to La Tourettes, spend some time on our own together but after you informed the LAPD about the break-in they suspected you had a stalker and had me under surveillance."

As Heather continued to spout a torrent of senseless drivel, Laure's frozen brain cells tried to rationalise what she was hearing. Todd had a stalker? That was news to her. But the admission that Heather was behind their kidnapping in France was more difficult to come to terms with. A ball of fear tightened in her stomach and her palms began to sweat. Heather Dunstone was more deranged than she thought. Deranged enough to kill.

"How did you manage it?" Todd asked incredulously. "You were away filming when I was in France."

"That's right. I was on location in South America. Everything was planned and co-ordinated from a distance so that the police couldn't connect me to the kidnapping. You were followed the moment you set foot in France. I just didn't factor little Ms. Location Scout into the plan."

"That's very clever of you but just what did you hope to achieve?" Todd asked.

"I want us to be a proper family." Heather gave him a mysterious grin and patted her stomach with her free hand. "You didn't know you're the father of my unborn child, did you? We're going to have lots of children. You're going to love me and we're going to be a real family."

For the first time since the nightmare began, Laure saw Todd's cool slip. "Child? But we've never slept together." She watched the muscles in his back expand and contract as he slipped on his boxer shorts.

"No, not yet, but I have your sperm inside of me."

"What the fuck? How the hell did you manage that?"

"I stole it, darling. That was one of the unexpected discoveries that I made when I ransacked your home. I found the address of the clinic where you donated your sperm. It didn't take much to bribe the security guard to let me in so that I could steal it. I'm pregnant with your child - a little girl I hope." She ran her free hand across her breasts and stomach to emphasise her point.

"But in case that doesn't work, you're going to make love to me, properly and without protection, just like you did to that whore earlier. You wanted me once, before she came onto the scene, and if _I_ can't have you, no-one else will. I'm carrying your child. You owe me."

Laure stared in disbelief. Of all the crazy situations she'd found herself in during the last few months, this had to be the craziest yet. And now Heather was claiming she was pregnant with Todd's child. She slumped down onto the bed before her legs gave way.

"I don't know why you are so shocked," Heather rounded on her. "I've been to your pathetic little London flat. I've seen the way you live. You're not in the same league as Todd and I."

Laure stared at her in disbelief. "You broke in?" Another mystery solved. Too late.

"Yes," Heather turned back to Todd. "And I broke into your Malibu house too. I saw your collection of trophies... especially the cute little hat."

Laure frowned. Heather's behaviour was becoming increasingly unstable. Someone had to do something and quick. She spoke almost without realising. "If they ever decide to do a remake of Fatal Attraction, you'd get the bunny boiler role hands down, Ms. Dunstone. In fact, I'd lay bets that you'd win an Oscar for your performance."

"Do you think?" Heather returned, liking the idea.

"It's a sure bet. As sure as Todd doing a remake of "The Wizard of Oz" complete with real flying, fucking monkeys."

"Laure, be quiet." Todd warned. "This isn't a game."

Laure shook her head. She refused to be intimidated by a gun-wielding mad woman or by a Hollywood Hot-Shot director. "Enough is enough, Heather. Put the gun down and leave."

Todd barked back. "Stop it, Laure. Heather needs help not censure."

Hearing his voice, Heather came back to reality. She pulled Laure to her feet and twisted her arm behind her back, pressing the butt of the gun against her temple.

"You may think you're in love with her, Todd, but she's expendable. Once she's out the way, you'll have to love me."

Todd held himself in check. With the gun primed and pointing at Laure's head he could not take the risk of trying to disarm Heather. The only thing he could do was to keep her talking in the hope of making her see sense. He decided to try a different tack.

"You don't seriously think I'm in love with Laure, do you?" he laughed. "You've got nothing to worry about. She was just leaving."

His words caught both women off guard. "Leaving?" They chimed at the same time. "What do you mean?"

Todd kept his face casual as he shrugged his shoulders. "I mean, there's nothing going on between Laure and I. She was a quick fuck, nothing more."

If Heather was crazy enough to break into a clinic to steal a sperm sample and impregnate herself and pay someone to kidnap then, she was capable of anything with a loaded gun in her hand. He prayed Laure had the sense to play along and that Heather would believe him. It was the only thing he could think of to diffuse the situation, and give Laure a chance to escape.

"I know you don't believe me," he continued, "but it's the truth. There's nothing between Laure and I. She was about to leave when you walked in on us. Weren't you Laure?"

Laure glared at him. She knew what he was trying to do but if Todd expected her to leave him alone with a mad woman, he was wrong. She was prepared to go along with him up to a point.

"Yes, that's right. I was only using him to advance my career. He's all yours, Heather. You're welcome to him."

The bluff must have worked because Heather released her hold. "If it was sex you wanted, baby, you could have had me," she whined in a childish voice. "Why her, baby? Why not me?"

"Because she just happened to be there. It's like I said. She was a quick fuck, that's all," Todd replied.

Warming to his theme, Laure took over. Two could play that game. "It's true, Heather. And the sex wasn't that great anyway. You know, small hands, small... " _Mr. Hollywood Quick Shot_ "" She was amused to catch the look of surprise on his face. She'd got to him. Actually wounded his ego. He jerked his head towards the door. He wanted her to get away.

Laure started to walk but before she could reach the hallway, Heather grabbed her by the arm and pulled her back. "Where do you think you're going?"

"You wanted to have Todd to yourself. Well, go ahead. I'm going to pack up my things and leave." Laure replied evenly. "Like I said, you're welcome to him."

"Naha. You're not going anywhere. And if you think you're going to trick me with your ridiculous lies, think again. I saw the pair of you making love remember." Heather's hand was shaking, as she aimed the gun at Laure's head. "No offence, Ms. Parker, but I'm not into threesomes. Todd and I have some unfinished business and I'd rather you weren't around to watch."

With no time to think of the consequences, Todd reached for the gun, wrestling Heather against the wall. Two shots fired randomly. The first shot missed Laure and stuck in the door frame. The second paralysed her upper body. Todd's face paled. Forgetting Heather, he rushed to Laure's aide, more concerned for her life than his own. He tugged a sheet from the bed to staunch the flow of blood seeping from her wound.

Seeing Todd fawn over Laure pushed Heather over the edge. "Get away from her," she screamed, thrusting the gun into his face.

Todd ignored her. He knelt down to cradle Laure in his arms. "She's hurt, Heather. For pity's sake, let me help her."

"She shouldn't be here. This is all your fault."

Quickly, Todd slipped the robe from Laure's shoulder to check the wound. The bullet had entered her left shoulder and passed right through, mere inches from her heart. She was obviously in a great deal of pain and about to lose consciousness. "We need to call an ambulance. She needs a doctor," he stated with more calm than he felt.

"Why should you care? You told me she meant nothing to you."

"She's losing too much blood, Heather. She needs hospital treatment."

"She'll be alright. Put her in the bathroom. She can clean herself up."

Todd lifted Laure gently into his arms. "Don't be scared, chérie," he whispered against her hair. "We're going to get out of here, I promise you."

Laure looked at his face. For a director, he was a terrible actor. His face was deathly pale and his eyes revealed the depth of his concern. "I'll be alright, I'm worried about you." she murmured.

"Don't be, I'll be OK." He propped her up against the side of the bath and held a towel against the wound to staunch the blood. "I'll be out in a minute, Heather. I just need to make sure Laure can sit up."

Laure gave him a weak smile.

"How?" she mouthed.

"How what?"

"How are we going to get out of here, Sherlock?"

Todd pointed to the mobile phone tucked discretely into the waistband of his boxer shorts. "I want you to dial the police while I keep Heather occupied."

"Ah, that's what it is. And I thought you were pleased to see me." Laure joked, with more effort than she could spare.

Heather appeared in the bathroom doorway, anxious for Todd to rejoin her. "Get away from the whore. She only got what she deserves. It's me that needs help," she shouted.

"You're darned right about that!" Todd muttered. Using his back as cover, he slipped the phone into Laure's hand and stepped back into the bedroom, closing the door behind him.

"We need to talk, Heather. Do you mind if I get dressed?" He picked up the rest of his clothes and slid on his jeans. Heather watched him button his fly. The sight of his blood-stained hands seemed to distract her. She played with the safety catch on the gun, clearly agitated.

"So you're responsible for kidnapping us outside La Tourettes, and for the break-ins at the office and at my home?" Todd encouraged her to talk until the whole story spilled out, including the fact that Heather had planted evidence to frame Laure as his stalker.

"You need to let us go, Heather. Laure's lost a lot of blood."

"I can't," Heather sobbed. "I need you, Todd. Our baby needs you."

He sat down on the bed beside her and stroked her hair until she was calmer. "I'm also thinking of you. You need help. You're not well."

Placing a gentle hand on top of hers, he removed the gun from her grip and slid it across the floor into the corner of the room, out of her reach.

Released from the weight of her burden, Heather collapsed against his chest. "I love you, Todd. I've loved you since I first saw you at the film studios. You're so powerful, so masculine. I knew, from that day onwards, we were meant to be together. You can learn to love me, can't you?"

"Shh, don't speak." He rocked her in his arms as he would a child as she looked up and stared beseechingly into his face, as though memorising every line, every smooth plane.

"Make love to me, Todd, I beg you." Her trembling hands reached spider-like inside his shirt.

Before Todd could suppress his revulsion, three armed police burst into the room. He nodded to let them know that Heather was unarmed. At the last minute, as she realising what was happening, Heather lashed out in a frenzied attack, catching one of the policemen on the face with her nails.

"It's OK. They've here to help you," Todd soothed as he struggled to contain her. "They won't hurt you, I promise."

"Don't let them take me away. Please Todd, I want to be with you," she screamed. "I want you to impregnate me. If I can't have you, I'll have something of you." With her make-up streaked and dark splodges of mascara down her cheeks, she tried to tear off Todd's clothes. She was a pitiful sight.

"I thought you said you were already carrying my child."

Suddenly, the fight went out of her. "I lied. I've been taking fertility treatment but it didn't work." She stared at him one last time, imploring him to love her as the police officer placed handcuffs around her wrists.

He watched them escort Heather to a waiting police car. The overwhelming feeling of relief that the nightmare was finally over outweighed the feeling of guilt he felt. She would never be the best actress in the world or win any Oscars, but her obsession would make people remember her long after she was sentenced to prison or, worse still, an institution for the criminally insane.

"Where's Ms. Parker, Monsieur St. Vignes?"

Todd rushed to the bathroom door. "She's in here. She's been shot." Laure was slumped on the floor, unconscious, his phone along side her, in a pool of blood. "Will she be OK?"

One of the medics pushed Todd to one side to check her pulse. He took a quick look at her wound and nodded.

"Do you still think she's the stalker?" he asked the chief police officer. "Heather told me she'd planted evidence to framed Laure."

"Not any more. We picked up her call. The entire conversation has been taped for evidence."

Todd ran his hand through his hair, concern for Laure his main priority. He stood to one side as the medics slid her onto a stretcher. "Is it alright if I go with her, officer? I want to be with her when she comes round."

"Of course, but we'll need to take a statement later," the police officer confirmed. "You do realise that if you go to the hospital, we won't be able to keep this out of the press, Mr. St. Vignes?"

"It doesn't matter. I'll take the risk."

# Chapter 16

Laure opened her eyes. Her shoulder was numb and her head felt fuzzy. Flashbacks from recent events flitted in and out of her head in a jumbled mess, making no sense.

"Laure? Are you awake?"

Someone reached for her hand and held it tight. She forced herself to focus on the blurry outline of a dark-haired man.

"Laure? How are you feeling?"

She allowed the heavily-accented voice to penetrate her brain. Was she dreaming? Because, if she was, she didn't want to wake up.

"Laure?"

She felt a pair of lips brush against her parched mouth, tasting of toothpaste and coffee.

"Mmm?" As her eyes became accustomed, she registered the face. It was a handsome face; one that sent her heart-beat racing. One she thought she would never see again. Suddenly the flashbacks made sense.

"Where's Heather?" she croaked.

"She's in police custody."

"Did you make love to her?"

Todd frowned at her question. "You were listening? Of course I didn't. Why would I? I'm in love with you."

She tried to sit up but failed. The drips and hook-ups to the beating monitor by the side of her bed prevented her. "You didn't tell me you had a stalker. Is that why you were so unpleasant to me when we met up in La Tourettes? You thought it was me?"

"Cherie, let's not talk about that now. I'm just pleased to have you back."

"You did think it was me." It was a statement, no longer a question. Tears filled her eyes. "Why did agree to meet me there?"

"Because I wanted to confront you. I wanted to see the person who was terrorising my family." He shook his head, recalling the moment. "But, when I met you outside the village and I saw your beautiful face, I had a hard time reconciling my suspicions with my instincts."

"Have I been under suspicion all this time?" Laure asked. "Is that why you invited me to stay at your villa? You wanted to make sure?" The painkillers numbed her pain, but not her mind. Every conversation, every meeting, every moment she'd spent with him, she dissected in her head.

"Don't ever believe that, Laure. I invited you to the villa because I wanted, more that anything in the world, to be with you. It's what I've wanted from the first moment I saw you in that ridiculous beanie hat, with your beautiful cold, red nose and your hair flying about your face." He reached across to sweep the hair from her cheek.

"It's the reason I kidnapped you, and the reason I kissed you in the car to shut you up. Fuck, chérie. You're asking too many questions. I want to kiss you again."

Her lips parted as he leant over and took possession of her mouth, deepening the kiss until neither of them could think straight. When, at last, he pulled back so that she could breathe, he dropped a familiar gift-wrapped package into her hands.

"Open your present," he ordered.

"But Todd..."

"Open your present. It might not be what you think."

Todd helped her remove the elaborate gift-wrap and held the base of the box so that she could remove the lid. Inside was the silver and mother-of-pearl bangle that she had admired so much but nestled in the centre was small, velvet pouch.

Laure frowned.

"Open it," he repeated. "I've asked you the same question a number of times, and you were right to refuse before, but this time it's for the right reason." His eyes locked onto hers as he picked up the bracelet and snapped it around her wrist. When she took too long to open the pouch, he picked it up too, undid the ties and dropped the contents into her hand.

"I love you, Laure. Will you marry me?"

Tears brimmed beneath her lids. She was almost afraid to say yes for fear that she would wake up and find she was hallucinating.

"Don't tell me you're lost for words? Maybe you need some more persuading." He took the ring, a sparkling diamond solitaire, from her palm and slipped it on her finger. Taking care not to touch her wounded shoulder, he drew her into his arms. "I told you, when I kiss a woman they usually beg for more but, from now on, it's me who'll do the begging. I love you, Laure Parker."

"And I love you too, Luc, Todd, "Mr Hollywood Hot Shot Director", whatever your name is."

# About the author

Thank you for reading this book. I started writing seriously when my husband and I moved to the South West of France in 2005. We bought our "rural escape from the rat-race" - a traditional Gascogne farmhouse - in 2000 but it wasn't until visiting the region on holiday over the following five years, and falling in love with the countryside and our French neighbours, that we decided to move here permanently.

In a complete career change, I started designing and selling dichroic glass jewellery, mainly at the local craft fairs and weekly French markets in the region, and was fortunate to meet an eclectic range of interesting people. To while away the time between customers, I kept an A4 notebook at hand to scribble down concepts for my stories which I set in some of my favourite exotic locations around the world. Especially those I had the chance to visit during my career pre-France.

The fact that I was dreaming up erotic romance novels while working on a market stall amused my French and English clients no end, and I had the great fortune to receive support and encouragement from a couple of published authors, to whom I am eternally grateful.

Since my first attempts to get published, I have written several other romances which I intend to publish soon.

Lessons in Love by Annette Hawkins - On a business flight from Hong Kong to San Francisco, Gail finds herself seated next to the infamous Carver Heath, serial entrepreneur, multi-millionaire, and the sexiest thing on two legs she's seen in her lifetime. She's terrified of flying, and when he invites her to spend a "no-strings attached" weekend with him in the Napa Valley, to divert her mind from her fear, Gail is not sure whether he's being serious or not. Because, if he is, the promise of a red-hot, sexy weekend with a renown and dominant sex-god is certainly tempting. Published 2013. Contains descriptions of spicy sex scenes and graphic language.

Excerpt from Lessons in Love

Carver smiled at her dazed expression with satisfaction. It was true. He'd noticed her in the Executive Lounge while they waited to board flight CP1452 from Hong Kong to San Francisco. Or rather he had spotted her perfect heart-shaped ass, superbly defined in jeans tight enough to hug her contours and the curve of her buttocks, as she bent down to do up her overnight bag.

It was at that precise moment that he fell irrevocably in lust, and by the time she straightened up and presented a glimpse of her face and those unusual violet-grey eyes, he was already indulging in the most lurid sexual fantasies that a cynical businessman facing corporate melt down had no right to think about. She was a living, breathing work of art.

_Cabin Fever_ by Annette Hawkins - Claudie has been in lust with her sexy boss from the moment she started working as a reporter at his San Francisco-based sports newspaper. But does he notice her? No. Worse still, Doug refuses to take her seriously. When Claudie uncovers an explosive story-line about match-fixing and drug-taking within National Soccer League, Doug is forced to work with her to protect the story and her safety. Holed up in a holiday cabin in the woods, the fireworks between them really take off. Contains graphic language and sizzling sex scenes.

_Ferry Ride to Love_ by Annette Hawkins - When Lianne is posted to Hong Kong with Zeitlinger's Bank, everything is one big culture shock. Hong Kong is vibrant and exciting, much like André de Cauzabon, a French Armagnac producer, to whom she is assigned to for her first major client project. Trying to help André break into the lucrative Chinese market, she is required to interact with him more than she would like. Especially when he makes it clear that his interest is more on seducing Lianne into his bed than establishing a new marketing channel. Contains descriptions of simmering sexual tension between two consenting adults.

One last thing

When I published my first romance novel - Lesson in Love - earlier this year, I was thrilled and extremely grateful to the people who took time to post a review. I believed I could write but it took the feedback of completely anonymous readers on the other side of the world to give me confirmation and the confidence to continue.

Please take a few moments to review my latest book. Everyone needs constructive feedback to understand how to improve. Thank you.
