One Week with the French Tycoon Read online

  And he was tired of being the bad guy.

  A huge yawn hit him and he rocked his head back against the soft cushions of the sofa, giving his body a long, hard stretch to wake up his cramped muscles.

  Considering the way he was feeling this morning, he suspected, if he allowed himself, he could easily spend the whole week sleeping. Not that he was going to do that. He’d come here for a change of scene and a reprieve from the pressures of life and there was no way he was wasting his time in Italy staring at four walls. Even if they were as magnificent as the ones in this hotel.

  This observation led his thoughts back to Indigo’s wry comment about him being familiar with staying in the honeymoon suite.

  A cold prickle ran across his skin.

  The last time he’d been in a room like this he’d thought his life had been on the up and up, but look at him now, barely two years later, holidaying alone only hours after signing his divorce papers, with the ink of his signature still drying in his mind.

  Swinging himself into a sitting position on the sofa, he stifled another yawn behind his hand and rubbed his face hard to get the blood circulating.

  He really needed to get up and out before Indigo emerged; he didn’t think he had the mental energy this morning to deal with another awkward scene with her.

  Glancing towards the bedroom door, he was surprised to see it standing wide open.

  Huh, weird. He checked his watch. Seven o’clock. So she hadn’t been joking when she said she’d be up and out early too.

  Hauling himself off the sofa, he went to investigate further.

  ‘Indigo?’ he called gently, so as not to startle her in case she was still in there.

  There was no reply.

  Poking his head around the doorway, he saw that the bed was empty, with the sheets pulled haphazardly back and the door to the en suite bathroom flung open.

  She was gone.

  That was a relief.

  Feeling the tension leave his shoulders, he went back into the living area and pulled out the clothes he was going to wear for his walk today, before heading off for an invigorating shower.

  There had been something about her that intrigued him, though, he mused as he felt the soothing water cascade over his aching back—her determination and bolshie confidence perhaps. She certainly wasn’t his usual type, with her leggy, voluptuous figure and short, feathery bobbed hair in a shocking shade of red, which had reminded him of the colour of the sea of poppy fields behind the house in Provence where he’d grown up. Historically, he’d always been attracted to petite women, usually blondes, with more of a delicate air about them, but there was something incredibly alluring about Indigo, with her wide, open smile and playful gaze.

  She was sexy.

  He shut off the water and reached for a towel, drying himself vigorously. If he was being honest, she’d probably only captured his interest because it had been refreshing to meet a woman who didn’t want to take something from him and just walk away for once. He was used to being the one to sort out other people’s problems, and it had been a long time since someone had done something benevolent for him.

  It would be better if he didn’t see her again, though, he told himself, flinging the towel into the bath. He wasn’t in any state to be sociable at the moment.

  After shaving off his morning stubble, he pulled on shorts, a light breathable T-shirt and the brand new walking boots that his PA had sourced for him, and gave himself a nod in the mirror.

  Okay. Now he was ready to face the day and whatever it might bring.

  He checked his email on his phone as he travelled down in the elevator ready to grab some breakfast in the restaurant, pleased to find there wasn’t anything that needed his urgent attention. That was sure to change by the end of the week, though.

  After dropping by the reception desk to confirm they’d have the suite that he’d booked available for him when he returned from his hike, he was about to walk away to get his breakfast when curiosity about Indigo’s situation stopped him. He should probably check whether he was likely to come across her again, just so he could prepare himself for it.

  He turned back.

  ‘Did you find another room here for the woman I shared the honeymoon suite with last night?’ he asked the receptionist.

  Confusion flickered across her face, until recollection seemed to strike her. ‘The lady from your suite checked out, Signor.’

  That must mean she wasn’t doing the Ravello circuit and coming back to Amalfi today, which meant there wasn’t any danger of bumping into her again.

  Good, that was good, because he’d feel compelled to acknowledge her if they saw each other again, which would encroach on his much anticipated alone time.

  ‘Okay, thanks,’ he said, giving the receptionist a nod before heading over to the breakfast room at the other end of the lobby.

  Considering it was still pretty early, the place was already buzzing with guests, and he grabbed the only spare table near the back wall. After seating himself, he took a look around him, soaking up the animated vibe. Quite a few of the guests seemed to be dressed in walking gear, like him. Clearly the coastal walk was a big draw to the area. Hmm, perhaps it wouldn’t be as solitary an experience as he was hoping, he reflected with a twinge of annoyance.

  A flash of bright red on the other side of the room caught his eye and, heart thumping, he quickly leant back, using the couple sitting at the table next to him as cover. Grabbing the menu in front of him and holding it to hide most of his face, he gradually leant forwards again to take another look. As he suspected, it was Indigo, standing at the breakfast buffet with her back to him, her hair damp and gleaming and her small rucksack slung over one arm.

  She looked refreshed and energised this morning, her skin glowing with health and her posture relaxed. His gaze followed her as she moved smoothly along the buffet, seemingly checking over her options before making her choice. She grabbed an apple and a couple of bread rolls from the display and he stared in baffled amusement as she slipped them into the gaping opening of her bag. After a quick check around, she seemed to discern that no one was watching her and popped a couple of slices of Parma ham and a small bottle of mineral water from the cooler section in there too. Next went in a pat of butter and a little package of cheese.

  Evidently deciding she had enough food stashed away, she strolled nonchalantly away from the buffet, slinging her bag over her shoulder and shoving her hands deep into the pockets of her shorts. He half expected her to start whistling Food, Glorious Food as she made her getaway.

  She was staying in a five-star hotel, but she was too cheap to buy her own lunch? What was that about?

  He allowed himself one last look at her long, shapely legs as she disappeared out of the room, then turned to gesture for the waitress to bring him some coffee.

  And that, he guessed, feeling an odd twinge in his chest, would probably be the last he’d ever see of Indigo Hughes.

  * * *

  Indigo had thought she was in pretty good shape. She went to the gym at least a couple of times a week and opted to walk around London as much as possible instead of jumping on public transport, but by the time she’d climbed what seemed like a thousand steps leading away from Amalfi—pausing on her journey to walk through the ancient brick-walled walkways hung with canopies of vibrant greenery in the Villa Cimbrone gardens—then on to the quaint little town of Ravello, she realised her fitness levels were nothing like as good as she’d imagined.

  Still, she’d made it here without incident, and after wandering around the quiet streets crammed with cool artisan shops and visiting the simple but atmospheric cathedral, it was a relief to walk downhill to the little village of Pontone and stop for a rest and to eat her lunch.

  Sitting on a wide grassy viewpoint which looked out over the dramatic drop down
to the coast, she was just about to take the final bite of the sandwich she’d made out of the food she’d filched from the breakfast buffet when she noticed a familiar figure making his way across the grass in the direction of the trattorias that, according to her guide, were favoured by walkers on the route because of the incredible views from their balconies.

  After spending the whole morning trying not to think about the sight of Julien lying bare-chested on the sofa, looking utterly divine in repose as she tiptoed past him, she was disconcerted to see him again in the flesh. Not that she was going to let that stop her from being friendly. She’d made that promise to herself to check he was okay here on his own, so that was what she was going to do. Just because he was ridiculously sexy and ever so slightly intimidating it didn’t mean she couldn’t have a friendly chat with him.

  ‘Hi there,’ she called as he came level with where she was sitting.

  He didn’t appear to hear her.

  ‘Julien! Hey, Julien, over here!’ she shouted this time. She could have sworn she saw him flinch before turning to look over to where she was sitting. He raised a hand and gave her a nod of acknowledgement, before turning back and continuing on his journey.

  Huh.

  Perhaps he assumed she wouldn’t want to be disturbed whilst eating her lunch. Yes, that must be it; he couldn’t be deliberately avoiding her.

  Could he?

  No—she was being paranoid.

  Jumping up and grabbing her daypack, she made after him, having to pick up her pace in order to catch up with him before he strode out of sight.

  ‘Hey, Julien, wait!’ she called, a little out of breath by the time she reached him.

  He turned around and gave her a look of expectant concern. ‘Are you okay?’ he asked, his gaze flicking behind her as if he was worried she was being pursued.

  ‘I’m fine,’ she panted, ‘just wanted to check you’re enjoying your day. You seemed a little—er—’ she flapped a hand at him ‘—stressed yesterday.’

  He took a small step backwards and let out a sharp snort. ‘Yes, I’m enjoying it so far.’ A small frown flickered across his face. ‘Thank you.’

  There was a pause while she waited for him to ask if she was having a good time too.

  He didn’t.

  ‘Okay, good.’ She clapped her hands together awkwardly. ‘Well, I just wanted to say hi. So, hi!’ she blurted, sincerely hoping he’d assume the blush travelling up her neck was a flush from the sun and her mad dash across the grass.

  ‘Hi,’ he replied flatly, folding his arms across his chest.

  There was another heavy pause where he blinked at her, as if waiting for her to make her excuses and leave. Well, she wasn’t going to. She’d learnt over the last year whilst working at the café that just because someone seemed unfriendly when you first spoke to them, it didn’t necessarily mean they didn’t want to talk to you. They were probably just distracted by something they’d been thinking about, or they were hungry, or concerned about the tightness of their trousers or something. Not that it appeared as though any of his clothes weren’t fitting him perfectly. In fact, he looked as if he’d just stepped off a page in one of the hiking gear magazines she’d pored over whilst preparing for the holiday, before realising she could afford exactly none of the items in it.

  ‘Did you like Ravello? All those steps up to it nearly killed me!’ she joked, cringing inside at the hint of desperation in her voice.

  He didn’t even break a smile. ‘Yes, it was an interesting place.’ His brow creased into a frown. ‘They told me at the reception desk you’d checked out. I didn’t expect to see you on this circuit today.’

  She stiffened, wondering why on earth he seemed so irritated about her walking the same route as him.

  ‘I have another hotel in town booked for tonight. A better organised one, I hope,’ she said, shrugging off her discomfort and forcing a smile on to her face.

  ‘Okay. Bon.’ He took a deliberate step backwards, then froze as her words seemed to sink in. ‘Do you mean you’re staying in Amalfi again tonight?’

  Another wave of warmth began to creep up her neck. ‘Yup.’

  His brow crinkled in confusion. ‘Then why are you moving hotels after only one night?’

  She shifted uncomfortably. ‘I like to change things up. It keeps me on my toes.’

  And I can’t afford to stay in that hotel again, not that I’m admitting that to you, Monsieur Moneybags.

  He nodded slowly, his gaze searching hers as if he was trying to rootle out a lie.

  She just raised both eyebrows at him, determined not to give in and blurt out the truth, trying to ignore the way her pulse had sped up.

  Letting out a sharp huff of a laugh, Julien broke eye contact and glanced behind him as if looking for an excuse to leave. Not that she could blame him; the conversation wasn’t exactly flowing well and she was tempted to slink away herself. But she wasn’t going to; she was going to see this through to the bitter end, as a matter of personal fulfilment.

  ‘So, are you going to try one of those trattorias for your lunch?’ she pressed, nodding in the direction he’d been heading.

  He closed his eyes for a second and pulled in a sharp breath, then smiled politely. ‘Oui. I didn’t have the forethought to bring any food with me.’ He gestured towards the remains of her sandwich, which was still clutched in her hand. ‘Where did you get your lunch today?’ The dry irony in his tone suggested there was more to his question than a simple polite query.

  He must have seen her take the food from the buffet. The realisation sent a prickle up her spine. Normally she would never have done such a thing, hating the idea of stealing anything from anyone, but with the limited funds she had available until her bag turned up, it was necessary to bend her rules a little.

  ‘I purloined it from the breakfast buffet,’ she admitted, forcing herself to keep her chin up and her gaze locked with his. ‘I thought the least the hotel could do was gift me a lunch after their mess-up with the room last night. Anyway, a place like that always puts out more than is consumed. I was helping with their wastage problem,’ she finished, aware that her tone was edged with defensiveness.

  His eyes crinkled at the corners as his wry smile deepened. ‘Don’t worry; your secret is safe with me,’ he murmured, leaning closer and enveloping her in his delicious scent.

  It was all she could do not to take a great gulping breath of it through her nose. What was it that made his smell so enticing to her? Was this what people called the pheromone effect? She’d never experienced it before.

  ‘Thanks,’ she deadpanned.

  He gave her a curt nod. ‘Well, I’m going to go and eat.’

  ‘Okay, enjoy,’ she said, disappointed that he was leaving now. Despite his standoffishness, she’d enjoyed chatting with him after spending her morning alone. All the other English-speaking walkers she’d encountered on the route seemed to be part of a group, which she hadn’t had the courage to try and break into yet.

  She watched him stride away, trying not to stare at the way he moved his large, fit body with such powerful grace.

  Judging by his troubled mood, she guessed he must be struggling with some serious emotional turmoil, which she knew from personal experience could make for a pretty lonely existence. She hated to see people in pain, especially if she thought she could do something to help.

  Well, she’d just have to keep an eye out for him, just in case he fancied some no-strings company later.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Back in Amalfi. Make sure you take advantage of the wonderful selection of restaurants and eateries after visiting the imposing cathedral in the centre of the town...

  AFTER THOROUGHLY ENJOYING the solitude of his walk earlier in the day, Julien had been looking forward to finding a place to grab a peaceful lunch when
Indigo had run over and accosted him.

  It had taken everything he’d had not to be rude and pretend he hadn’t heard her calling out to him, then continue with their stilted conversation when it became clear she wasn’t going to let him get away without extracting some kind of information out of him.

  He wasn’t sure why she’d been so keen to chat. Perhaps she was lonely and hadn’t found any other English speakers to buddy up with. He hoped she’d got the message that he preferred to holiday on his own now though, and wouldn’t bother coming over to talk to him should their paths cross again.

  A niggle of shame twisted in his gut. He felt bad about being so unfriendly, but she’d picked the wrong time to try and get to know him.

  If that had been her objective.

  Perhaps she was looking for something more. If that was the case, she was bang out of luck. After the train wreck of his marriage, he wanted nothing to do with women and relationships again for a very long time.

  Even spirited ones with legs that went on for miles and eyes you could get lost in.

  When he got back to the hotel, he took a long cooling shower then a refreshing nap before striking out for dinner, strolling through the centre of Amalfi on the way to the restaurants on the marina that the hotel receptionist had recommended he try.

  Diverted by the magnificence of the Duomo in the town centre, he climbed the wide steps and walked through the Arabic style Cloister of Paradise, looking out through the grand archways at the panoramic view of the town, with its pastel-coloured stone buildings wrapped with iron balconies.

  He knew what he was looking at should have blown him away, but ever since his life had fallen to pieces he’d had trouble finding pleasure in things. He felt desensitised to beauty, as if he was viewing it from inside a plastic bubble. Nothing seemed to touch him any more.

  Shaking off the building tension at the base of his skull, he was just about to turn and walk back to the steps when a bright flash of red caught his eye.