Page 18 of Meet Me at Sunset

Everyone was being so nice to her. Treating her as if she was meant to be there, that she was one of them – the rich, the privileged, the successful.

She was pretty sure she looked the part, in a strapless playsuit with a halter-neck bikini underneath in case they went swimming, her long copper hair pulled back in a low ponytail that served to highlight her flawless skin and high cheekbones.

She accepted a cocktail from a passing waiter, and took a moment to enjoy the view, admiring the endless blue of sea and sky that contrasted sharply with the frothy white waves the boat left in its wake.

‘Stephanie! I’m so pleased to see you. Oh, and don’t you look gorgeous!’

Stephanie turned to see Isobel, and a broad grin lit up her face at the sight of her new friend.

She and Isobel had had a lot of fun the other day – one glass of rosé had turned into two shared bottles, and she’d had to call a taxi home, with Catherine’s staff retrieving the moped the following day.

‘Isobel,’ Stephanie beamed. ‘You look incredible.’

‘A little something new I treated myself to, courtesy of Stuart and his black Amex,’ Isobel said, twirling round so that the hand-painted silk of the designer dress flew out in the breeze, showing off her tanned, slender legs beneath.

‘I’m almost starting to feel sorry for him,’ Stephanie said, then backtracked as she saw Isobel’s frown. ‘I said almost ,’ she protested, and Isobel laughed.

‘Camille’s really pulling out all the stops,’ Isobel commented, as a waiter passed by with trays of caviar blinis. ‘Is that David Guetta on the decks?’ she marvelled, peering at the famous DJ as he turned up the volume and the partygoers cheered.

‘Looks like it,’ Stephanie laughed. ‘Camille seems to know what she’s doing. I guess she’s a pretty shrewd operator.’

‘Yeah …’ Isobel agreed, as she looked around. Stephanie followed her gaze, seeing it land on Camille who was busy schmoozing Penelope Cruz. Then Isobel turned away and grinned. ‘Come on, let’s go,’ she said to Stephanie.

Stephanie was too surprised to protest and followed her, before she realized where they were heading – towards the trio standing near Camille which consisted of Lucas, Elle and Paulo. ‘Oh no,’ she murmured, knowing that conversation was inevitable.

‘ Hola ,’ Isobel called out cheerily. ‘Lucas, I wanted to say how divine your food was the other night. Stuart and I both agreed it was one of the best meals we’ve ever had, and he’s notoriously difficult to impress.’

‘Well, that’s because he’s a perfectionist. I mean, look at the wonderful job he did on my face. I’m even more handsome than I was before,’ Lucas joked, as everyone laughed. ‘Is he here?’

‘No.’ Isobel’s face fell. ‘He was called away by work. A client on the mainland.’

‘Oh, that’s too bad, but I’m not surprised he’s in demand. You must, of course, enjoy our hospitality. There’s no need to be lonely whilst he’s away.’

‘Thank you, that’s sweet of you. Stephanie’s been keeping me company,’ Isobel said, with a pointed look in her direction.

Lucas’s deep hazel eyes slid towards Stephanie, his scarred face creasing into a smile. Stephanie caught her breath. It was as though she’d received an electric shock, a pulsing current racing through her body and setting every nerve ending on fire.

‘Stephanie Moon …’ Lucas began, and hearing him say her name in that delicious accent almost made her melt into a puddle on the floor.

She couldn’t fail to notice the way his gaze raked over her body, and said a silent prayer of thanks for all the time she’d been spending in the gym recently. ‘It’s good to see you again.’

‘You too,’ Stephanie replied, trying to sound normal, though her mouth suddenly felt dry despite the cocktails she’d been drinking.

‘Hey, Stephanie.’ Paulo strode over, kissing her on the cheek before wrapping one arm around her waist in a possessive gesture. Stephanie froze beneath his touch, wanting to shake him off, disliking his presumption.

‘Hi Paulo,’ she said tightly.

‘Stephanie, have you met Elle? Lucas’s girlfriend?’ Paulo continued with a grin.

Stephanie looked up at the leggy blonde model towering over her, dressed in a minuscule bikini covered by a wisp of sheer fabric.

There was no doubt that she was beautiful, with blonde hair in a perfectly unkempt, just-got-out-of-bed style, bee-stung lips, and a smudge of black liner around her catlike eyes, which were currently narrowed suspiciously as they looked at Stephanie.

‘No, I don’t believe so. Nice to meet you,’ Stephanie said graciously, hoping that Elle couldn’t sense the way the air was vibrating between her and Lucas.

Elle made a Gallic, dismissive-sounding noise and didn’t return Stephanie’s greeting, clinging tightly to Lucas.

Stephanie felt a flash of rivalry and couldn’t resist stirring a little. ‘I enjoyed our little conversation when you came with Camille to see Catherine. I must take you up on that offer of a cookery lesson.’

Elle’s sharp gaze darted to Lucas. ‘You didn’t tell me you saw her,’ she said, her eyes flashing accusingly.

‘Did I need to?’ Lucas replied, and Stephanie could hear the irritation in his voice. She didn’t blame him. How on earth did he put up with Elle? He seemed like a great guy, and she seemed – as Isobel had so astutely observed – like a pain in the arse.

‘Stephanie …’ Paulo’s fingers squeezed her hip, as he moved his lips closer to murmur in her ear. ‘Can we talk?’

‘Um, sure …’ she said uncertainly. She met Isobel’s eyes, and her friend flashed her a quizzical look, universal girl code for ‘is everything OK?’ Stephanie gave her a reassuring nod as Paulo steered her away from the group and towards a quieter spot at the back of the boat.

‘Did you get my message? I’d love to take you out again. We had a great time, and I think you’re hot.’

‘Paulo …’ Stephanie hesitated. She felt bad – she’d avoided replying to him – but she needed to be honest. ‘You’re a sweet guy, and I had a lot of fun, but I don’t think it’s going to go anywhere.’

Paulo frowned. She saw disbelief and a flash of ego, and she had the feeling that he wasn’t going to take the news well.

Then her gaze slid past him, to where Lucas and Elle were standing with an uncomfortable-looking Isobel – Lucas and Elle appeared to be having an argument, judging by their body language.

Paulo followed her eyeline, and a muscle tightened in his jaw. ‘I see,’ he said coolly, an undertone of malice in his voice, before giving her a forced smile. ‘Look, no hard feelings, hey? Have a nice life.’

He stalked off, leaving Stephanie feeling a little guilty, but mostly relieved.

Nicolas felt a kind of sweet agony at being in the same space as Camille.

She looked every inch the international success story, in a pair of Camille black cat-eye sunglasses and a white full-length sun dress with a gold thread that shimmered in the sunlight.

He could barely look at her, but found it hard to avert his gaze.

He would have to maintain his professionalism, he told himself, and his emotions.

He meant what he had said to her in New York that last time, but sticking to his resolution was the hardest thing he had ever had to do.

Well, one of the hardest, but it was taking every ounce of self-control not to take her to one side and tell her it was all a mistake, that they could carry on as they had before, no strings, not marriage.

Just to be with her; just to take her in his arms again one more time.

He felt like a love-struck teenager, but that wouldn’t help either of them.

As the guests mingled, laughter and chatter drifted out across the sea.

Nicolas leaned over the stern and his eyes caught sight of a dolphin in the distance, bobbing in and out of the water, until it disappeared into the waves.

Mallorca was a beautiful place; if only he and Camille could have given themselves some more time, they could have come here and made new memories, not forever be stuck in the moments of the past.

‘A penny for them?’

He was momentarily startled, and turned to see Camille standing next to him, holding a glass of champagne out to him, holding another for herself.

‘What are we celebrating?’

‘Perhaps this is more for my nerves,’ she said ruefully.

‘What are you nervous about? You’re the queen of cool, aren’t you?’ he said, not unkindly.

‘Don’t joke, Nicolas, it’s not easy seeing you here. After the way we left things.’

‘After the way you left things?’

‘That’s not fair.’

‘Look, now isn’t the time or the place. Anyway, we have said everything now, haven’t we? Unless you have changed your mind?’ He desperately hoped that was the case, but knew in his heart it was a forlorn hope.

Camille hesitated. ‘Nicolas, I just want to say … that I’m sorry. I know I’ve hurt you, but can’t we be friends …? I’m finding things hard without you.’

‘Camille, I’ve never abandoned you, and I won’t now, especially now, but as a caring colleague, a long-standing associate, that’s all I can offer.’

Camille lifted her hands to her glasses and took them off, revealing her amber eyes, which were wet with unspilled tears. Her hand fluttered to her dark lashes, to brush them away before they fell.

‘I understand, Nicolas. I’m hurting too.’

Nicolas felt an overwhelming convergence of emotions, Camille seemed so vulnerable, which was unlike her; all he wanted to do was take her in his arms and hold her.

He fought the urge, but spoke gently. ‘I’ve been in the background for our whole lives together, Camille, and until recently I thought that was enough, but when you rejected my marriage offer, it opened my eyes. ’

Camille turned her face away from him as he spoke, unable to meet his gaze.