Love Storm

by Beryl Trebble

Overview

Kris Kastell, a widow, wants to leave the manipulative world of racing driving far behind her. When a wealthy entrepreneur and father of a young daughter advertises for a caretaker for his child and household, Kris is persuaded to take the position despite deep misgivings about her future employer's abrasive demeanor and his brittle Portuguese girlfriend.

Soon Kris is a popular, efficient hostess at Raoul Metier's country home. Despite her growing bond with Metier's only child, she finds herself at odds with the man himself and his fiery girlfriend too often for comfort. Even as she considers resigning to save herself the stress, she isn't sure how she'll leave a little girl she's come to love as if she's her own...

Product Details

BN ID:	2940180891785
Publisher:	Writers Exchange E-Publishing
Publication date:	12/28/2024
Sold by:	Draft2Digital
Format:	eBook
File size:	704 KB

Read an Excerpt

Chapter One To a casual onlooker, the two young women, elegantly dressed, and in animated conversation, could only be glamorous wives of up-and-coming young executives. The women appeared to be trifling their day away with, yet, another money-spending spree in London's more up-market establishments. How far from the truth that picture presented.

Lauren, dark hair cropped in gamin style, outgoing and flamboyant, had worked every inch of the way to become the successful and highly acclaimed interior decorator that she was today. As friend and confidante of the beautiful girl seated opposite her, Lauren knew the heartache and misery that lay behind the public face of Kris Castell, the twenty-six year-old widow of the late Tony Castell.

Tony Castell had been a ruthless, outwardly charming man with many dubious roles. High on the guest lists of society, he was internationally known and indeed famous for being a daredevil with a racing career that had finally killed him. He had given no credit to his wife for the impeccable organization of the extravagant entertainment he demanded. In time, he had pushed her more and more into the background, preferring to have adoring, busty beauties surrounding him.

Kris too had been captivated. He'd been her first love, and in his own way, he had loved her in the beginning. The uniqueness of her fresh and innocent demeanor had excited him, and the challenge of her Victorian chastity had driven him to pursue her passionately until he had managed to break it. Then desire had overwhelmed him, and he had taken her virginity under the moonlight one hot night. However, the novelty of a "virgin" bride soon wore thin, and he returnedto the excitement of more experienced conquests.

At first, to assuage his feelings of guilt, he'd showered her with expensive gifts. Soon that complex passed, though, and he started flaunting his women brazenly in front of her. As her marriage crumbled, Kris hid her humiliation and breaking heart from eager news-hounds, confiding only in Lauren who did her best to provide comfort and support.

Tony had died in a bloody blaze of headline glory eighteen months ago, only nine months after their marriage. Slowly, Kris had tried to rebuild her life, and only recently had regained some of her former zest for living. She'd sold the villa on the Riviera as well as the ostentatious Paris flat, and all its trappings, and settled in a modest flat not far from Lauren's Mews apartment.

Although money was not a problem, she had no desire to live the life her husband had once lived. She would much rather no announce to those around her about her financial state. She wanted to work for her money and was determined to do so. Her friend had invited her to share it with her, but Kris needed her independence. Besides, she knew Lauren had numerous male friends and felt that she had a right to her privacy.

Kris had enjoyed re-decorating her new home doing most of the painting and papering herself. She had rooted happily through antique shops, attended sales and joined Lauren in hunting through huge warehouses filled with wonderful fabrics. The result had transformed a modest flat into a home filled with colour, light, and a warm welcoming atmosphere. By herself, she would go for drives in the countryside, taking home wild flowers and ferns. She enjoyed the therapy of sun on her face, wind in her hair and the anonymity of her life. Once her life returned to normal, she had felt the need to take a job and establish her own independence.

Recently she'd started accepting some of Lauren's invitations to join her and her friends. Her easy charm and infectious laugh had many men enamoured, but she carefully fobbed them off, the pain of past hurts still too near to the surface.

A few weeks back Kris had told Lauren that she had become restless again. Her job was dull and held no prospects. She wanted something she could sink her teeth into; that was the topic they'd discussed over the lunch table.

"Darling, I've found just the thing and it is absolutely tailor made for you. Remember when I talked to you about the job I did for Metcon Enterprises, you know, the huge organization controlled by Raoul Metier and his cousin Luke Coney? I had lunch with one of their associates after an art exhibition the other day." Lauren gave her friend an impish grin. "Don't worry, he's fat, balding, sixty, and happily married, okay? Anyway, he was talking about Raoul Metier's wonderful personal collection, and all the time I was trying to draw everything out about the man. Boy has he got it all; and on top of everything else he is soooo good looking."

"Oh, Lauren...you and your man-catching! So, if you have been checking his credentials for yourself, where do I fit in? You know I'm not looking for an eligible bachelor."

"After everything I heard, I spoke to Luke Coney about you and he wants you to go and see him."

"You what?"

"I knew I'd have to do the spadework for you or you wouldn't go, and this is too good an opportunity to pass over. The long and the short of it is this: Raoul Metier needs someone to manage his home in the country, smile at his visitors, that sort of thing. But most of all he needs someone to care for his five-year-old daughter."

Kris grimaced. "Sounds charming. Who's doing the job at present? If it's that cushy, why is she leaving?"

"I have all the answers, my friend. She is an old family retainer that Metier brought out of retirement. Her position was supposed to be temporary, but he never got around to doing anything about it. Now that the little girl is five and a bit of a handful, it's getting too much for the old lady. Besides, the entertaining can be quite hectic, and I'm sure he'd rather have a more glamorous hostess!"

"Sounds like a calculated business to me. Where's the child's mother?"

"It's very sad, really. About four years ago she had a skiing accident in the Alps. She is still in a deep coma; Luke says the doctors told Raoul that she might not come out of it. Raoul was devastated and immersed himself in his work. He adores the child, but he's so high powered now he can't spend that much time with her. The place in the country is supposed to be wonderful; it's in the Lake District, I think. You'd be mistress of the manor, and with your experience of the glitterati, the weekend entertainment should be a piece of cake."

Kris thought long and hard; it sounded tempting. She was appalled at the tragic story and her heart went out to the child at its centre, but she was apprehensive about the implications to the other side of the job.

Lauren cut into her thoughts. "You know, it won't be like it was before, Kris. He is a sophisticated man who's already achieved his success. He's not trying to prove anything like Tony. I expect his guests will be close friends or business associates. Oh, yes, I forgot. He does have a girlfriend. Does that make it better? She's a foreign socialite, or something like that, and Luke says she hasn't the slightest interest in the child, so she's certainly not going to interfere. I'm sure you have nothing to worry about; it's purely a business arrangement."

"I...I don't know. My scars are still new, and I couldn't face the debauchery and drunkenness that happened at Tony's parties and...."

Lauren interrupted, "Do me a favour. Go and talk to Luke Coney, and then make up your mind, okay?" Lauren looked into her friend's anxious green eyes and smiled as Kris nodded her assent.

...x...

"Come through, Mrs. Castell." A smiling secretary led the way into a large sunny office. Luke Coney was rummaging papers about on an untidy desk. He reached out to take her hand, his rugged face creased into a wide grin.

"Kris... may call you Kris?" He didn't wait for a reply. "Lauren told me all about you, and I feel I know you already. I also feel you are precisely the person we need. She says it's up to me to put on my best sales approach and convince you.

"Do sit down." He led her over to two comfortable chairs by the window. "Coffee's coming," he said, plainly. "I'm a coffee freak and I'm trying a new blend, so do tell me what you think of it, okay?"

Luke had a casual charm and boyish enthusiasm that seemed unaffected by the power of business and the obvious wealth to which he was accustomed. He was infectious, and she heard herself agreeing to everything he said. More importantly, if Raoul Metier asked her, she would be available to visit over the weekend. And yes, she could start within a week.

"Good, that's settled then. Now I'll introduce you to my esteemed cousin."

She jolted back to earth at his words. She'd almost forgotten he would want to meet the woman who was to be an important part of his little girl's life. She shivered slightly as Luke casually took her arm, and guided her down the plush carpeted passage into an enormous office.

She felt flustered as she looked at a man of about thirty-five standing at the window. What had made her think that he would be so much older? Raoul Metier stood six-foot-two with broad shoulders and slim hips. On him, anything would look good, but today the severe cut of his Cardin suit accentuated his sexuality. In a couple of years, his thick hair would be the steel grey of his eyes. Cold eyes, veiled of emotion. His strong face was handsome rather than good looking, and a scar that ran across one cheek, together with a tightness of his lips, gave him a rather forbidding look.

"Raoul, I'd like you to meet Kris. In my opinion she's the person you've been looking for."

Raoul Metier drew himself up and bowed slightly. With a trace of a French accent, he spoke in a slightly husky voice. "Mrs. Castell." There was deliberation in the way he said her name, no familiarity. "Please take a seat." He indicated a chair for her, and then moved with the grace of a panther across the room, and leaned against the edge of his desk. Forcing her to look up at him from the low chair gave her the distinct feeling he had deliberately put her at a disadvantage.

She blushed as she met his lazy gaze. The gold of the thin Piaget glinted on his strong brown wrist as he waved at Luke to leave the room. "I wish to talk to Mrs. Castell alone; she'll be back in your office in about ten minutes."

His manner irritated her, and she was upset with herself for being aware of his physical magnetism.

"You obviously know of my concern for my daughter's well-being or you wouldn't be here. It is not good that elderly people who, by rights, should be enjoying their retirement are caring for her. She needs someone who'll create a normal family atmosphere, let her have birthday parties, friends to play with, that sort of thing."

His hardness softened and Kris sensed his deep affection for his little girl. "I see her as often as possible, but it's not enough. I need someone who really loves children, and who's prepared to be sincerely committed to my daughter for more than a few months. I take friends and business associates to the house whenever convenient, and that brings me to the other side of the job. It would be more than good fortune to find someone who is capable of both, but when Luke told me about you, I could hardly believe my luck.

"I'm aware how you managed the extravagant excesses your late husband demanded," he said stiffly, "but my needs are far more sober and sophisticated. You would be required to manage my house in Windermere and organize the entertaining as though it were your own home. This is mainly because of my daughter, Penny-Jayne. Although I entertain at home, I wish for PJ to have a normal life. That is where you step in."

He paused and his eyes roved lazily over her. "Being a glamorous hostess is an added bonus for me. You will have a generous allowance and I will take care of all running expenses. You will be paid a substantial salary for your efforts. There will also be an account for you to draw on for my daughter's day to day needs."

Kris felt relieved when Raoul moved away and sat behind his desk. "You will join me and my guests this weekend." It was a command, not an invitation. "We'll be going on Thursday, but Luke can't get off until Friday, so he can bring you along then. I would expect you to move in permanently by the end of next week."

Kris stared at him in amazement. "Mr. Metier, aren't you being a little presumptuous? This is simply an interview. I haven't agreed to accept your proposition, yet. Besides, I do have affairs of my own. I can't just drop everything at a moments notice."

He held his arms up as if in surrender. "I'm sorry. You haven't said a word and here I am assuming you'll take the position. You will take it, won't you?" A wide smile transformed his handsome features, and his sudden charm took her by surprise. "You must forgive me. I am so concerned about my daughter, and from all I've gathered from Luke, I know you are perfect for the job. I am sure you and PJ will get along fine."

For an instant she'd glimpsed the man behind the mask, and her annoyance subsided. "Before we make any hasty decisions, I think your daughter should have some say in the matter. I will accept your invitation for the weekend. In the meantime, I will get my affairs sorted out, and if all goes well, I should be able to start at the end of next week."

He stood up. "I appreciate it, Mrs. Castell. Please make your arrangements with Luke." He pressed a button and spoke to his secretary. "Mrs. Carr, please take Mrs. Castell back to Luke's office." His guard was back in place as he bowed slightly and said crisply, "Until we meet again...Friday."

Luke waited for her in his office and laughed when she walked in with a dumbfounded look on her face. "Don't worry about him. He's a difficult beggar at times, but his bark is worse than his bite. As far as PJ is concerned, nothing is too good for her."

"Thanks a lot," Kris sighed. "He makes me feel as though I'm all arms and legs, like a clumsy schoolgirl. Certainly not the cool poised robot he seems to require. I'm not sure I can handle it." Her green eyes were shadowed with doubt.

With mock severity Luke said, "Mrs. Castell, to look at you, how much more poise could a man want? PJ doesn't need a robot. She needs a warm and loving human being who can give her an ordinary healthy life, someone who won't get hysterical if she gets her hands dirty. Of course you can do it, and Lauren told me you wouldn't melt in the country. Don't worry about Raoul and his funny ways. He's a shrewd judge of character, you know. This organization has given him plenty of experience." He laughed. "Let's make the plans for Friday, and then I'll get one of the drivers to take you home."

After they made the necessary arrangements, she thanked her lucky stars she had a friend who would be there to help her over the first hurdle of her new venture.

...x...

Kris could hardly wait to get Lauren on the phone and tell her about the interview.

Lauren was delighted with the news. "I told you it would work out well. I'll drop everything tomorrow; we have to go shopping," Lauren said.

"Don't be silly, Lauren. I have plenty of clothes," Kris protested.

"I know, but some new ones will be a good morale booster. Besides, you're on show and need to look your best. Who better than your old friend to help you spend your money? I can do with a day off anyway."

...x...

"We've done very well, it's only eleven o'clock. Let's have coffee and we can work out what else you need."

"Don't you think we've done enough damage to my bank account?" Kris laughed. "By the look of it I'm kitted out for every season of the year, and I'm only going for a weekend."

"Oh, come on, you can always use tailored slacks and sweaters. Even though the green dress can go anywhere, and it's gorgeous with your red hair, I think we must find you something special for Saturday night; I'm sure they will dress up a bit."

As Lauren spoke, they both stopped dead in their tracks beside an exclusive Chelsea Boutique that had a simple white garment in the window, stunningly set against black velvet. Naturally it had no price tag.

"No, Lauren, I'm not going in there." Kris anticipated her friend's next move.

"Be a devil, you've nothing to lose, and that dress is crying out for you to try it on. Just walk in as though you own the place, and if you don't like it, we'll leave," she said, opening the door to the elegant little shop.

With superb salesmanship, and without divulging the price, the Manageress had Kris out of her own clothes and into the designer model. The effect was stunning and Lauren said, "Here, let me do something." She pulled the pins out of the heavy knot of hair at the base of Kris' neck and let the auburn mane fall free. "Wow, that should rock them in the aisles! Don't even hesitate...hold your breath, tell the lady you will take it and then ask for the price."

They all laughed as Kris slowly turned in front of the mirror. A heavy silk fringe swung from the low scoop neck, held on by diamond shoulder straps. Only an expert could design such a soft unstructured bodice that shaped her breasts into such enticing fullness. The crystalline white material draped softly over her hips. The skirt, slashed to the thigh and covered in heavy fringe, shimmered sensuously as she moved. Surely she would gather provocative glimpses from nearby men.

"You have to take it." Lauren tilted her head to one side. "It will be your piece-de-resistance, but you will have to keep it until the time is right." She turned to the sales clerk. "Take no arguments from her, she's taking it, but I think you had better show us something a little less startling. It's my friends' first date," she added mischievously.

"I have just the thing." The woman beamed conspiratorially as she disappeared behind some screens to return with a black velvet jumpsuit. "You can dress this up or down."

Kris emerged from the change-booth and Lauren exclaimed, "You are one hell of a clothes horse. It looks stunning. It's ideal because it's understated, yet classy." She smiled at the sales clerk. "She'll take that one, too."

Kris opened her mouth to speak, but Lauren cut her off.

"Don't argue, my dear. You can pay yourself back out of your first cheque. After that you can go to town on Raoul's account."

With the bill paid, the girls left the shop. The heavy parcels were almost worth their weight in gold.

Kris breathed a happy, though weary sigh. "I'm exhausted. I just want to kick off my shoes and have a cup of tea. Let's head home rather than go to a coffee shop."

Lauren nodded and they headed on their way. "What a successful day we've had; it's not often I can spend all day and not find a thing I want. It must be your bad influence."

Lauren laughed. "My pleasure." "I've certainly spent more than I would if I were on my own. But I'd have dithered about and gotten nowhere. I'm delighted with everything. Thank you for coming, Lauren."

---

Chapter Two

By Friday the butterflies were playing havoc in Kris' stomach as she got into Luke's car, but they soon settled down in the easy atmosphere of his company. During the long journey they struck up a conversation that would lead to a comfortable friendship.

"I think I ought to have a bit more background about Raoul, and PJ," Kris said. "I don't want to put my foot in it, especially with her."

"As you know, Raoul and I are cousins, and though there's quite an age gap we are pretty close. He has been very good to me, but since the accident he's changed quite a bit...become hard and has immersed himself in his work. It's as though he built a barrier around himself and he won't let anyone past it. It's been hard for him to come to terms with Anne's situation, and only in the last year has he gone out with another woman. Her name is Isabella da Costa. You'll meet her this weekend. We've known the family for years and she's a Director of their organization, that's how they met. She is more of a socialite than an executive. I think Raoul has become used to having her around. She's very decorative, which suits him. There will be no added pressure on their relationship because he can't get married with his wife still alive. She doesn't need his money and she barely tolerates PJ, so she's not itching to have a baby. The fact that he wants his daughter in the country suits her just fine, won't cramp her style."

"Sounds as though you don't like her?"

"She's not my type, but to each his own."

"You wealthy guys can pick and choose, I guess. You have a girlfriend, don't you?"

"I have a problem." He took his eyes off the road, and looked at her thoughtfully. "I hardly know you, Kris, but you make me feel like I can talk to you, and that my secret won't go any further."

"Guide's honour, I won't talk," she laughed. "Seriously, if you want to share it, two heads are better than one."

"I'm in love with Marie Louise de Galzar."

Kris' eyes opened wide at the name.

"It's a cloak and dagger affair. She's always surrounded by body guards and red tape, which makes it difficult to court her in a normal manner and really get to know her. We can't be seen in public too often or the reporters will blow it all out of proportion before we really know our feelings."

"What an awful situation. What on earth do you do?"

Luke grimaced. "Sometimes, when we are apart, I wonder if I am being stupid trying to persevere with the relationship; our backgrounds are so different. Then when I am with her I know I have to make it work." He gave Kris a boyish smile and said softly, "We are so in love and so comfortable together, I know we will be happy."

Luke continued as they drove, and at six-thirty, the wide security gates opened to reveal her first glimpse of the gracious stone house that--if she took the job--would be considered as home.

Tension flooded back as she got out of the car and gave Luke a rueful smile. "Don't worry, you'll be fine," he said.

A few minutes later he gave an elderly woman a delighted hug. "Well, Mrs. Cree, you look younger and more beautiful every time I see you."

"Get away with you!" She looked towards Kris. "He is such a tease. You must be Mrs. Castell. I'm pleased to meet you. Raoul's on the veranda with his guests, but I am sure you would rather I show you to your room first so that you can freshen up. Come along, dear."

Kris took in the understated elegance of the hall, the graceful curve of the staircase, and the beautiful paintings and object d'art tastefully placed. She had no problem seeing that it was a home, and not just a stiff example of an interior decorator's talents to show off the owner's treasures. It came as a surprise; Raoul Metier's cool arrogance seemed at odds with his surroundings.

The little woman prattled on. "Your room is upstairs, and Penny-Jayne's is further along. I thought it best if you were near her. She is such a nice child; I'm sure you will get along wonderfully with her. She needs someone young, like yourself. You must be about the same age as her mother. Poor dear, such a tragedy. They were so full of life. Raoul adored her, now he seems like an old man." She looked at Kris wryly. "He needs a young wholesome woman, you know, not some painted lady whose only concern is herself."

The housekeeper opened the bedroom door and Kris stepped into a large airy room that was feminine, but not frilly. An archway led to an ample-sized dressing room next to a magnificently appointed bathroom with a sunken bath. Luxuriant ferns and muted colours of blue and green gave the area a welcoming touch. French doors opened onto a small balcony which overlooked a wooded garden that sloped towards a wide-open lake. The hills on the far side of the lake, tinged orange from the last rays of the sun, caused her to smile.

As Kris was about to apply fresh lipstick she saw the solemn face of a dark haired little girl reflected in the mirror. She smiled, but before she could speak, Mrs. Cree said, "Ah, there you are, PJ. This is Mrs. Castell."

"Are you the lady that might be staying with me?" Big brown eyes stared straight at her, trying to sum up the situation.

"Yes." She turned around slowly. "Will I do?"

The little girl asked a direct question again. "Do you like children? None of my daddy's other ladies do. It's nice when he comes by himself because he plays with me and I'm allowed to sit in the lounge and watch TV with him. But when they come, they don't want me around."

Kris knelt down and took the child's hands into hers. There was no decision needed; PJ's soulful eyes had done it for her. "I'd be here to live with you, not simply stay with you. We'll have fun doing things together, and when your dad comes with his friends, I will be arranging things for him and you are going to help me. You and I are going to be friends."

For the first time, her face lit with a smile. "I'll like that because I haven't got any friends."

Kris glanced up at Mrs. Cree who answered the unspoken question. "No children live near here, and I can't get about as I used to."

"Well," said Kris, turning back to Penny-Jayne. "Little girls need someone to play with, so we will have to find some, won't we? Another thing, you must call me Kris, all my friends do. And I will call you PJ as Mrs. Cree does. Now, I must go, and let your dad know that I'm here. Will you show me where to go?"

PJ looked at Mrs. Cree. "Can I, please?"

"Yes, dear, but don't be long. Your supper is ready and you know there are a lot of people coming tonight and I'm busy."

The little girl darted out of the room and Mrs. Cree put her hand on Kris' arm. "Mrs. Castell, she needs someone like you. I hope you meant it when you said you were staying?"

"PJ decided that for me, so don't worry."

As Penny-Jayne led the way to the veranda, a little shiver of apprehension chilled Kris, especially when she saw Raoul Metier for the second time.

Mr. Metier sat a little apart from the other guests, leaning nonchalantly against the railings, in rather the same way he had leaned against the desk in his office. He had one foot crossed over the other and his trousers lay tight against his thighs, hinting at lean hard muscles under the cream cord cloth. His long-sleeved navy shirt, unbuttoned at the neck, emphasized his broad shoulders and slim hips. The glint of a fine gold chain shimmered against the bronze of his skin and the surprisingly dark hairs on his chest. Even though he was smiling, he still looked arrogant and aloof that defied one to come too close. She noticed that his grey eyes did not echo the smile which gave no clue to the real thoughts lying behind them.

Standing close to him was a woman smoking a cigarette from a long holder. Her other hand, slim with long red fingernails, rested possessively on his arm. She was about thirty-five and bore a startling resemblance to Maria Callas. Her figure was slender, almost boyish, except for small breasts thrusting against the silk of her blouse. She guessed that it was Isabella da Costa.

As she glanced around quickly, she was not impressed with the sight of a young blonde sitting on a sofa while an elderly man beside her ran podgy fingers up and down her bare legs. Her mind thought back to parties with Tony and she wondered if they were similar. Tony had always assured her that his parties were nothing more than sophisticated individuals looking for smart conversation.

Relief flooded over her when she saw Luke and another young man listening intently to a swarthy man talking rapidly and waving his hands about, obviously the other da Costa.

"Hello, PJ." Raoul's face lit up with genuine affection as the little girl danced up to him. "Isn't it your bedtime?"

"Yes, but Mrs. Cree said I must show Kris to the veranda," she said importantly.

"Kris?" Isabella swung around as the child reached her father's side. Her eyes registered surprise and then opened wide with hostility when she saw the tall auburn-haired woman in the doorway.

"Ah, Kris, I'd like you to meet everyone." Luke materialised beside her.

Thank God for Luke, she thought.

He took her arm and led her towards the voluptuous blonde-haired woman. "Fran Dix and her fiancé, David Lawley."

"Please, don't get up," Kris said as he started to rise.

Luke continued. "And here we have Edward Kelly and Philippe da Costa."

"Enchanted." The stocky little Portuguese lifted her hand to his lips. "I have heard a lot about you from Luke."

Raoul nodded slightly as he rose from his seat. "This is Mrs. Castell, everyone." A rather sarcastic heaviness hung in the air in the way he used her surname. "I see you have met my daughter already. Now I'd like you to meet Isabella da Costa."

"Oh, yes, the new nursemaid, I believe."

Kris paused before answering; she was ready for such a remark. Looking directly at the dark woman before her, she let a small smile play around her mouth. "Yes, amongst other things."

Isabella flushed, and turned abruptly away. "Raoul, isn't it time for a drink?"

Kris spoke quickly to Raoul. "If you don't mind, I would like to stretch my legs a bit. PJ can show me the garden before it gets too dark." She grinned at the child as she wriggled free from her father. "Don't worry. I'll take the blame if Mrs. Cree gets cross."

The words had barely left her mouth when Philippe said, "Damn good idea! Come on, everyone."

Isabella shot Kris a venomous look before sulking into the lounge. Pointedly, she said, "You'll stay with me and get me that drink, won't you, Raoul?"

Kris was surprised at the hard look on Raoul's face and the sarcasm in his voice when he said, "A little fresh air and less drink would do you no harm." Was all not well in paradise?

The garden was a delight, full of colourful shrubs and gracious trees. Old-fashioned roses scented the air, and the bright colour of a kingfisher flashed by the lily pond. The manicured lawns gave way to informal wildness beneath a belt of firs that led to the sandy edge of the lake.

"Oh, look, Uncle Luke!" PJ cried, pointing towards a powerful looking boat tied up at the jetty. "You promised you would take me for a ride next time you came. Can we go tomorrow? Can Kris come, too?"

"Sure, it's a date after breakfast tomorrow." He put his arm affectionately around the little girl. "It will be fun, and of course Kris can come."

There was an easy friendliness amongst Raoul's guests as they wended their way back to the house. He looked thoughtful as he watched Luke and Kris swinging PJ between them. Walking backwards and gesticulating wildly, Philippe made the whole group laugh.

"Next time it will be anyone for tennis, I expect," Isabella muttered petulantly at his shoulder.

"Say goodnight to your father, Penny," Luke said, "then you and Kris had better go and face Mrs. Cree."

Raoul kissed the child swiftly, and said, "Goodnight, honey." Looking at Kris he said, "Drinks will be in the lounge at seven-thirty, Mrs. Castell." PJ looked from one to the other.

"Daddy, why don't you call her Kris? She says all her friends do. You are going to be friends too, aren't you?"

The two adults eyed each other and after a pause the tall man, with a move already familiar, bowed slightly and said, "Of course. By the same token, you must call me Raoul."

Isabella's voice was icy. "My God, what is this...meeting of Heads of State or something? I'm going to change. Give me a drink to take up to my room, Raoul; this whole thing is ridiculous."

...x...

Kris left PJ with Mrs. Cree and promised to say goodnight to her before she went downstairs.

Luxuriating in a scented bath, her thoughts went back to Mrs. Cree's words and she wondered if the old woman was referring indirectly to Isabella. She certainly wasn't the friendliest of people, but why such pointed hostility? Wasn't she supposed to be in favour of someone keeping PJ out of her hair? The fact that she never left Raoul's side indicated some depth of intimacy, and Luke was right--they were certainly a good-looking couple.

As she pictured the man in her mind's eye, she saw a brooding, arrogant bearing as well as a cold indifference in his eyes. As she stared at him she could feel the passionate sexuality within him that longed to be unleashed. Maybe that was why Isabella felt so threatened.

Kris' hands moved over her body and she slowly became aware of her heightened sensitivity. She fingered her hardened nipples and sensed the electric tingles in her thighs. The sensation was pleasant. "For goodness sake, the man isn't even your sort." She chastised herself and quickly stepped out of the bath.

Kris felt happy with her appearance as she fixed her heavy hair into a loose knot at her neck. Lauren had been correct about the green dress being right for any occasion, and tonight she definitely needed to feel comfortable with her choice of clothing.

On impulse, she picked up the phone by the bedside. Although an answering service picked up, hearing Lauren's cheery message made her feel better. She hated those machines. "Hi, it's me. Just a quick call to say things are going okay. The house is fabulous, PJ is a sweetie and Raoul's girlfriend is a sourpuss. Thanks for making me buy the green dress. I have it on and am about to go downstairs. Better go...and wish me luck. Bye."

PJ was in bed when she opened the door. "Goodnight, PJ." Kris put her arms around the child and gave her a hug. "See you in the morning. You have lots to show me tomorrow, and I'm looking forward to that boat ride with you."

"I've got a green shirt like that one. My dad bought it for me. He said he likes the colour. Can't you stay and read me a story?"

"Not tonight, my friend. It's getting late and I have to go downstairs. But we'll read one together tomorrow night. You can pick the book. 'Night."

Her entrance into the lounge created an unexpected impact. Philippe jumped up. "Please, take this seat, senora."

"What can I get you to drink?" Luke beamed at her from the bar.

Isabella, impeccably dressed in a black shirtwaister, hardly acknowledged her presence. Turning, she went onto the veranda. Raoul had looked her over beforehand. Slowly he took in her appearance from top to toe, causing her to blush like a schoolgirl. He gave her a cocky little grin--as though he approved--before following his lady outside.

The evening passed without incident and Kris went to bed knowing without a doubt that she wanted to work, and stay, in this gracious home. Besides, who would protest at the luxurious lifestyle Raoul Metier had offered her?

The fact that she felt uncomfortable in his presence bothered her, though. But as she thought it through, she realised there would be little contact with him on a daily basis. She had no qualms about meeting the exact standards he required for his guests. Or for that matter, her ability to act as hostess on such occasions. Besides, wasn't the main duty of the position to provide a happy, normal life for a lonely little girl? Maybe doing exactly that would remove the brooding, sometimes desolate, look from the cool, grey eyes of her employer.

---

Chapter Three

Anticipating that she'd be climbing in and out of the boat, Kris wore jeans, a cotton top and a pair of red canvas slip-ons. She looked forward to the day's events. It was already hot, and from the balcony she could see the mirror reflection off the clear lake, unruffled by any breeze whatsoever. She was going to enjoy herself today, of that she was sure.

Going down for breakfast, she met PJ in the passage.

"Hi, sleep well? We must keep Luke to his promise about the boat, mustn't we? See, I'm dressed for it already."

"I'll see him when I've had breakfast."

"You aren't eating with us?"

"No, Mrs. Cree says when there are people here I must keep out of the way, in case Daddy's friends don't like children."

"Well, that doesn't apply to these friends. Come on, I'll pop in to see Mrs. Cree and make it right for you."

Taking the child's hand, they found the old woman in the kitchen. "I don't think that Isabella will be too thrilled," she said. "Once before she asked me to keep PJ out of the way at mealtimes."

"I can understand dinner parties, but this is breakfast for heaven's sake. Oh, ignore her! Let's go, PJ."

Isabella and Fran were already in the dining room inspecting the dishes on the hot trays. "Hello, you two," called Fran who wore mini shorts. "I don't usually eat breakfast, but this is too good to pass up."

Isabella looked almost too contrived in tailored safari gear. She acknowledged Kris with a trite, "Good morning," then turning to the little girl. "Hadn't you better run along and have breakfast with Mrs. Cree, PJ?"

The child looked nervously at Kris who spoke firmly. "No. I've cleared it with Mrs. Cree. She's eating breakfast with me today. Anyway, what's wrong with her being here? She's not a baby, and I am sure you have good manners, don't you, PJ?"

The two women eyed each other for a moment. "I am sure Raoul won't approve of the child always being present. Surely you should clear this sort of thing with him first?"

"Isabella, this is her home, and I understood that is what he wants for his daughter, a home, not some Victorian institution where she has to be hidden as soon as guests arrive. Don't you think I know there is a time and place for her to be present? As far as I am concerned, this is one of them."

Kris turned to the laden trays. "Now, PJ, tell me what your favourites are and I'll help you." She would have given anything to stay staring at the furious da Costa, but was content to hear the sharp hiss of her breath then the rattle of a coffee cup as she turned and sulked out of the dining room.

Fran tried hard to stop laughing aloud and gave Kris her approval by giving her two thumbs up and a wink as they sat down together. Luke and the other men walked in from the garden.

"Your water chariot will be all warmed up and waiting. Raoul is really gunning it out there." Turning to Kris he explained, "He goes out alone every morning, and I think the accelerated speed gets rid of his frustrations, or something. Hello, princess, nice to see you," he said, ruffling PJ's hair.

...x...

During the rest of the weekend Isabella either stayed in the house or on the veranda, keeping Raoul by her side most of the time. Kris wondered whether she had reported their little spat, but he gave her no indication that anything had happened. The other guests seemed happy enough having the little girl around, and certainly no one could have complained about her behaviour. Kris was positive that it had to do with her restricted upbringing, which resulted in a maturity beyond her years. It was sad, Kris reflected, but at least her father had realised this before it became serious.

They used the boat to go across the lake and then climbed the hills beyond. Puffing, they threw themselves onto the grassy crest, wondering at the beauty of the mosaic of the landscape that draped around them. They ran shrieking into the icy water to swim, and splashed about with PJ as though they were kids again. Even the entwined lovers unwrapped themselves and joined in.

During a reflective moment, Kris had to remind herself she was not there to have a good time, she was not a proper guest; she was only an employee. She knew she must speak to Raoul and discuss her return, and any plans he'd made for the following weekend. Generally, she wanted to sort out the finer details of what he expected of her. If need be, she would have to ask Isabella to leave them alone--she didn't really feel like discussing things with her around. At the same time she had no wish to antagonize the fiery da Costa.

Putting off the moment, she went to pack a few things; the rest she would leave behind. As she closed the door, she sensed that someone had come in behind her. Turning, the child's dark eyes looked straight through her, solemn, and rather pathetic, the old-fashioned dress adding to the little-girl-lost look.

"You are coming back, aren't you? I really want you to." She was near tears.

Kris, not bearing to see her cry, held out her arms and gathered the little girl close.

"Hey, I've got a great idea. How about you come with me now? I have to fix up my flat and pack my things, and I could use some help. We can go to the zoo or something exciting, and I would just love to go shopping with you, get you some jeans and t-shirts, things to knock around in without worrying about getting them spoilt. We can come back when we are ready so it doesn't have to be Thursday. If you would like that I'll ask your dad." Brown arms wound eagerly round her neck.

"Oh, do you think he would let me?"

"I don't see why not. Now, you run along and see Mrs. Cree, and I'll find you just as soon as I've spoken to him." She laughed to herself. Raoul certainly did not suit the name of Dad or Daddy, his total masculinity and aloofness making a mockery of the pipe and slipper warmth of fatherhood.

...x...

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but I would like to speak to you alone." She looked at Raoul in order to avoid Isabella's disgruntled face.

For a moment, he hesitated. "Very well, let's go to my study." As he opened the door for her to go before him he said, sardonically, "What is so private, Mrs. Castell, er, Kris?"

He adopted his usual pose of casually leaning against his large leather topped desk. Once again, she sensed the nearness of his virile body and felt a sense of dizziness as he looked deep into her eyes. "Well?" He was becoming impatient.

Her irritated, dry throat made her sound like a schoolgirl again. She felt ridiculous. "I have a few things I'd like to discuss with you. That is, if you still want me to take up the position you offered me--"

"I had already made up my mind, if you remember." He almost smiled. "You were the one who said it was up to you to decide after the weekend, and only if PJ approved. Well, that isn't a problem, so the ball is now in your court."

She blushed. "Your daughter's a dear little thing, and yes, I would like to stay on because I am sure I can make a difference in her life. What we do need to discuss is the format for your weekend visits. Do I talk with you, or is there a secretary I must speak to who takes your calls? You are a busy man, and I thought now was as good a time as any to talk about things."

Gaining confidence, she continued. "Initially I feel I must deal directly with you because there is a lot to take into account if I am to run things successfully. I need to know such things as your taste in food, and I am sure you have a good idea what your friends like and dislike--anyone with an allergy to seafood, for instance?"

She realized the conversation bored him, but knew that she had to persistent. "As hostess I need to know the sleeping arrangements of your guests. I certainly don't want to embarrass them, or myself."

"Do we really have to go into all this at the moment? I'm pretty busy, and I'm sure you can cope with all of these details."

It irritated her that he was not prepared to spend a few minutes talking to her; after all, it would save him interruptions later. "The buying arrangements...do you deal through wholesalers, or must I buy locally? All these things are important for me to know, Mr. Metier. If you don't want to discuss them with me, I could phone your secretary later and arrange to meet you in your office during the week. Perhaps that would be better."

She sighed in exasperation. "However, I also want to ask you if it would be all right for me to take PJ back with us?"

That caught his attention, and suddenly she found him listening to her intently. "With your permission, I would like to get her some more modern clothes. With all due respect to Mrs. Cree, don't you think she looks a bit too old-fashioned? Obviously she will stay with me while I sort out my flat. I'll take good care of her and give her a good time. I'm sure it will help us to really get to know each other, too."

His accented voice was soft as he spoke. "How thoughtful of you to think of something like this. Of course, it is okay." He opened a desk drawer. "I'll give you a cheque to go with you. If you need more, just shout. This is exactly what I wanted for her, someone who would give her a normal upbringing, and not make her old before her time." He fingered a frame surrounding a photo of a laughing dark-haired girl. "Her mother would approve," he murmured.

Quick as a flash his manner changed. "Mrs. Castell, I don't have my diary with me. It would be better if we discussed things in the office. Speak to Mrs. Carr--whatever she can't help you with, I can probably fill in for you. In addition, bring PJ with you when you come. Will that be all?" However, before she could reply, he was already opening the door. "I must get back to my guests, if you don't mind."

She walked out before him, and hastened off to find one excited little girl.

...x...

"Won't you come in?" Kris asked Luke as they arrived at her flat.

"I'd love to, but I'm going to have to go to the office. There's an important meeting tomorrow and I haven't gathered all my facts together. I'm supposed to be the main speaker. I'll call you, though, and set up a time. Your offer of using it as a hideaway for Marie Louise and me is most tempting." He turned to PJ. "Go to bed and sleep, young lady." He picked her up and gave her a big hug as he swung her around. "You talked the hind leg off a donkey in the car, and you have a big day tomorrow. I'm sure you are going to have lots of fun." He swung his eyes back over to Kris. "Bye, Kris. Don't forget, if you need anything give me a call."

Kris could hardly wait until she tucked the little girl safely in bed so she could phone Lauren. She filled her friend in with the details of the weekend, but Lauren's reaction startled her.

"Darling, watch yourself," Lauren said with a guarded tone. "You're treading on very delicate ground, Portuguese ground. If you aren't careful, you'll have Metier jumping to Isabella's defense. I know you're confused, but I hear the signs in your voice--you don't like the woman and it brings out your fighting spirit. Take care, my friend, or you'll be badly beaten. She wields a mighty powerful stick."

"I--"

"There you go, don't argue," Lauren continued relentlessly. "Raoul can have anyone he likes to play with, but a merger of da Costa and Metier would have one of the biggest impacts on the commercial world since nylon stockings. He certainly doesn't want to upset her at this stage of the game as he's put a lot of thought into the goings on. She's certainly made it quite clear that she can't wait for Anne Metier to die so she can get her claws into him, even if she has to use her company to do it. She's a brittle bitch, but he's been with her for a while, so she must be able to satisfy something in him. Sooo...I say again, think before you go off at a tangent and antagonize her."

"Don't put me off," Kris pleaded. "I'll probably not last long anyway; I don't think he even likes me because he's condescending and sarcastic when he speaks to me. I'm certainly most uncomfortable in his presence, blushing and coughing like a stupid teenager, and it makes me mad. PJ likes me, though; I think that's the only reason he's keeping me on. I'm only hoping he leaves me to do my job and doesn't interfere. When he comes home for weekends his presence will be diluted by the other guests."

Lauren said, "This job is tailor made for you. You'll get over being intimidated by the man before long. All I'm saying is, tread carefully with da Costa. Now, what are the plans for tomorrow? This is exciting, and I'll definitely come with you. First we shop for you and get to spend Raoul's money. This is a first for me; I have never bought clothes for a kid before."

...x...

The next day they had a wonderful time. PJ's eyes were wide with amazement over everything, and she just loved the clothes they bought for her.

"Can we go and see Daddy now?" she asked, jumping up and down in a pair of red sneakers, jeans and a Mickey Mouse T-shirt.

"Actually, I need to go and see him, too. We'll call his office when we go and have a cup of coffee."

"Lauren, would you mind keeping PJ with you once she has seen Raoul? I must get a whole lot of things sorted out with him."

Mrs. Carr informed Kris that Raoul would see them for five minutes. She was told that she was lucky she'd caught him, because he was about to fly out of the country for a couple of days on business.

"My, just look at you," he said as PJ rushed into his arms. "It looks as though you are teaching my daughter the art of shopping." He was almost jovial as he surveyed the clothing PJ was spreading around his office.

"Listen, sweetheart, I'm sorry I can't look properly. I'm late as it is. But I promise I will over the weekend. It would have been nice to take you out to lunch looking smart, but we will do it another time. Now, Mrs. Castell--"

"Daddy, she's Kris. Why do you keep forgetting she's my friend?"

His daughter's comment took him by surprise and for a moment he looked at her thoughtfully before saying, "How rude of me, Kitten." He turned back to Kris and his emphasis on her name was very marked.

"Kris, I have spoken with Mrs. Carr. She has made a schedule of weekend arrangements for you. I tried to remember the things you spoke about over the weekend, plus she has a list of most of your requirements. It's a working weekend this time, so it is formal and straightforward. I am sure you will manage admirably. Now, I really must say goodbye."

He bent down to his daughter. "You be good, do you hear? I've given Kris permission to tan your hide if you aren't. She's going to give me a written report each week," he said, teasing.

"Oh, Daddy, you haven't." She flung her arms around his neck and it pleased Kris to see that her father and his often-abrupt manner did not overawe her.

...x...

On Tuesday Luke phoned, and Kris invited him over to see her flat.

"This is beautiful," he said, wandering around with a glass of wine in his hand. "You did it yourself? Not Lauren?"

"No, I can't afford for her to do it," she laughed, keeping her wealth a secret. "Besides, it's my home, not a showpiece, and all the things I have here mean something to me, even if they don't go with the decor. I expect it will be a bit of a revelation for your girlfriend. I don't suppose she's used to places like this. Anyway, if it will do, you are welcome to use it whenever you like." She dangled a set of keys in front of him. "One doesn't play matchmaker to people like Marie Louise every day! Having the press hound you constantly must be awful. I will catch up on your progress if you come on a weekend. You'd better wish me luck. I must confess, I'm intimidated by your cousin."

Luke gave her a strange look. "He is a very mixed up man emotionally at present. Just keep your cool and let's see what happens."

"What do you mean? See what happens?"

"Time, my dear Kris, time...it does great things." He changed the subject. "If I can't court Marie here, I'll not be able to do it anywhere. Thank you for this." He took the keys and slipped them into his pocket. "And don't you worry about a thing. See you."

Then he was gone.