Her hand moved abstractedly over her belly. She had never contemplated not keeping the baby. That wasn’t an option. She sighed heavily as the object of her every waking and sleeping thought intruded.
Xavier.
She knew she couldn’t live a lie, couldn’t have the baby and not have the truth known. She had to let him know. But how to tell him? How to get in touch with him? How to be prepared in case he got heavy-handed and demanded … what? Jane remembered him telling her that he was last in his line. No doubt an heir figured somewhere in his future. Just not with someone like her.
But would he demand she hand over the baby? She felt a sliver of fear. She didn’t think he would be capable, but then he was so powerful. An heir to his fortune was important, necessary for the survival of the island …
She would have to be strong and not let him bully her. She doubted he’d want to be saddled with a small baby anyway. It would seriously cramp his lifestyle.
She grimaced. She’d gone from a world where Xavier had never existed to one in which, since she’d come home, every paper she opened seemed to have a picture of him. In New York, Paris, Milan … In each place a new fortune being made, a new woman on his arm. Each time like a knife in her heart.
She got up wearily and went through the motions of cooking dinner, eating it and tasting nothing. Afterwards she went into the bathroom and saw the pool of water on the floor under her dripping clothes. She went to get the Sunday papers she was about to throw away, opening them out on the floor to soak up the water.
For a second she didn’t even notice that she’d stopped breathing, then shook her head as if to clear it. The photo and the words didn’t disappear. It was the business section. His face stared at her starkly from the page under a headline:
FRENCH BILLIONAIRE IN UK TO SAVE AILING
HOTEL CHAIN
Xavier Salgado-Lézille, the French entrepreneur, owner of Lézille island and the exclusive hotel chain of the same name, is in London this week in negotiations to save the once luxurious chain of Lancaster hotels …
In recent times they have deteriorated …
Has his own offices in the City …
Other companies interested in his expertise …
Why do we have to look abroad to be saved …?
The words swam up at her from the page. She sank down oblivious to the wet floor. Checked the date. Yesterday. That meant he was here this week. Incredibly.
She read it again. He had offices in the City. She went to her phone book and checked with nerveless fingers. Sure enough, there it was, the address and phone number. Why hadn’t she thought of that before? She checked the clock. It was still business hours. Just.
Before she could think or lose her nerve she dialled the number from the book. A crisp voice answered. She asked to be put through to Xavier’s personal secretary.
‘Hello, Molly Parker here.’
‘Hello … are you Mr Salgado-Lézille’s personal secretary?’
‘Yes, I am. May I ask who is calling please?’
‘It’s … my name is Jane Vaughan. Could you tell him please that I’d like to make an appointment to see him?’
Her heart was beating so hard and fast she was surprised the other woman couldn’t hear it. Her hands felt slippery with sweat.
His assistant sounded suspicious. ‘Very well—please hold for a moment.’
After a couple of agonising minutes she came back on the line. ‘Mr Salgado will see you at ten-thirty tomorrow morning. He’s very busy, you know—’
‘I’m well aware of that. I won’t take up much of his time, thank you.’
Jane put down the phone with a shaking hand. Automatically she placed a hand on her belly and sank into the sofa. The phone rang again, shrill in the room. She jumped violently, picking it up warily, as if it would bite her.
‘Oh, Mum it’s you … No, I wasn’t expecting anyone else—don’t be silly.’
In the course of the conversation Jane decided it was time to break the news. Now that she was going to see Xavier and tell him. After all, she was beginning to show.
Her mother was disappointed that Jane was going to have the baby on her own, knowing all too well how hard it had been for her after Jane’s father died, and she was worried because she and Arthur were going to be leaving England, but Jane made sure to reassure her on that score. The last thing she wanted was to be responsible for Arthur not being able to take his new bride away to their new life. He had grown up in South Africa, and after the honeymoon he had persuaded her mother to emigrate to the warmer climes of Cape Town.
Jane knew her mother was stubborn and that Arthur would do whatever she wanted. They were due to leave in three weeks, and Jane was determined that they go. She hoped she had done the right thing in telling her.
As if the telephone wires were buzzing, the phone rang again shortly after. It was Lisa. She decided to tell her too, feeling a little more weight lift off her shoulders. She refused to say who the father was, only that she was going to see him the next day and that, no, he wouldn’t be a part of her life.
After the initial screech Lisa was for once stunned into silence. Jane managed to see the humour and appreciate this uncustomary role-reversal. It was nice to have the support of a friend, but she declined her offer to come with her. She had to face Xavier alone.
The following morning in the cab, Jane tried to quell the mammoth butterflies in her stomach. She felt nauseous, and knew it wasn’t morning sickness. She hadn’t had that in a few weeks now. The thought of seeing Xavier again had her blood running cold through her veins. Then hot. How would he look in this climate? Somehow less? As if! She knew all too well that he would stand out like an exotic hothouse flower.
Luckily, after an intensely busy period with work, the teacher she had been subbing for had returned from sick leave, and Jane as yet hadn’t been placed anywhere else. She couldn’t contemplate it right now.
The cab drew up under an ominously grey sky outside a huge gleaming building.
Salgado-Lézille Enterprises.
After she got out she fought the urge to turn around, step right back into the cab and tell the driver to go back to her flat. Instead she put one foot in front of the other.
Inside the building there was a hushed reverence more in keeping with a cathedral. No doubt because the boss was in attendance, she thought darkly.
At the reception desk she gave her name and got a security tag. Then she was directed to the top floor. The lift was entirely glass, and she could see the ground floor slip away. The panic rose again.
After agonisingly long seconds it came to a stop and the door swished open with a little ping. She stepped into a luxuriously carpeted hall. A pretty girl behind a desk took her name again, and told her where she could wait on a comfortable couch just outside some huge imposing oak doors. Jane had dressed down, in jeans, sneakers and a sweater. She didn’t want him to think she was coming here for anything else. And she was protective of her small telltale bump.
The door opened and her heart jumped into her mouth. It revealed a matronly woman with a neat grey bob. She emerged, holding out a hand.
‘Hello, dear, you must be Jane. I’m Molly, Mr Salgado’s UK assistant. Please come through.’
Jane stuttered a few words and followed her into an office where Molly took her coat and stopped outside another set of doors. It was like Fort Knox. She rapped lightly on the door, and opened it before turning to let Jane pass through. She felt a hysterical moment of wanting to bury her head in this woman’s