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The Marriage Deal(15)

By:Helen Biancbin


Sandrine was aware of his veiled scrutiny as she crossed to where they stood.

'Finished for the day?' Michel queried.

'I was just checking tomorrow's filming schedule.' She turned towards  the man at his side. 'Raoul,' she greeted evenly. 'How are you?'

'Well. And you?' he returned smoothly.

'Fine.' Such polite formality. Her smile was overbright. 'When did you arrive?'

'This morning.'

Ask a direct question and she might get a direct answer. 'A social visit?'

'Not entirely.'

'Raoul is joining me in meetings with marketing,' Michel informed her in  a voice that held a faint sardonic edge. 'Then he's due in Sydney to  initiate negotiations on another matter.'

'Taking care of business,' Sandrine mocked lightly, aware of Raoul's level scrutiny.

'Yes.'

'I didn't ask Michel to inject finance to rescue the film.'

'I'm aware of that.'

'You mean to ensure he's not making a foolish investment.' It was a statement, not a query.

'Michel makes his own decisions.'

'Obviously.'

Raoul's gaze didn't falter. 'I understand you've reconciled?'

'We're working on it,' Michel drawled.

'And you, Sandrine,' Raoul posed. 'Are you working on your marriage to my brother?'

'Michel is sharing my villa, and my bed.' She'd wanted to shock him, but  there wasn't a flicker of emotion evident on those chiselled features.

'That doesn't answer my question.'

'It's as much as you're going to get.' She turned on her heel and walked  away. One Lanier brother was enough. Two was one too many!

Sandrine was halfway to Sanctuary Cove when her mobile phone rang, and she automatically engaged it.

'Raoul is meeting Stephanie Sommers, the film's marketing  representative, for dinner,' Michel informed her. 'He has invited us to  join them.'

'No.'

'I'll be home in an hour.'

'No, Michel.' The stressed negative went unheard for he'd already ended the call.

She depressed the button and tossed the phone onto the passenger seat.  Damn him. She cursed him again as she garaged the car and ran lightly  upstairs.

An hour later she had showered, dressed, and was applying the finishing  touches to her make-up when Michel walked into the bedroom.

He gave her a long, considered look, then quirked one eyebrow. 'Dressed to do battle?'

Black did things for her. It highlighted the texture of her skin,  accented the burnished sheen of her sablecoloured hair and emphasised  her luminous brown eyes.

Sandrine capped the mascara wand and tossed it into her make-up bag.  'You could say that.' She turned towards him. 'What time and where is  this momentous dinner taking place?'

'At the Mirage Hotel, in an hour.'

She tossed a lipstick into her evening purse and snapped it shut. 'It'll  take twenty minutes to reach Main Beach.' She slid the long chain strap  over one shoulder and walked to the door. 'I'll be in the lounge  catching the evening news.'

She descended the stairs and moved into the lounge, switched on the television and prowled the room, too restless to sit.

Mindful that she'd eaten very little all day, she filled a glass with  water and drank it, then she splashed a small quantity of excellent  Chardonnay into a crystal goblet.

It was half an hour before Michel entered the lounge, and the sight of  him adorned in black evening suit, crisp white shirt and dark tie made  the breath catch in her throat.

He possessed an exigent sexual chemistry that melted her bones. Dear  heaven. How was it possible to want something so badly with your heart,  yet conversely deny it with the dictates of your brain?

With a faintly mocking gesture she lifted the goblet in a silent salute,  then raised it to her lips and took a small sip. 'This is solely for  Stephanie's benefit.'

'The wine, or your attendance at dinner?'

A slow smile curved her generous mouth. 'Dinner. It isn't fair to pitch her alone among the wolves.'                       
       
           



       

'Wolves, Sandrine?' he queried with ill-concealed mockery. 'Isn't that a little extreme?'

'No.'

His voice held a certain dryness. 'I'm sure Stephanie can take care of herself.'

'Against Raoul? Are you kidding?'

It would be interesting to see how Stephanie reacted to the elder Lanier  brother. A single mother raising a child alone had to have more than  her share of courage and perspicacity.

'I'm sure you'll enjoy playing the role of her protector,' Michel mused as he crossed the room.

With one hand he extracted the goblet from her fingers and placed it on a  nearby side table. At the same time he slid his other hand to cup her  nape, drawing her close as his mouth fastened over her own in a kiss  that tore at the restraints of his control.

He felt a slight tremor slither through her slim frame and he deepened the kiss to something that resembled possession.

It was several minutes before he slowly lessened the intensity, trailing  the soft, swollen curve of her lower lip with a touch as light as a  butterfly's wing.

'We'd better leave or we'll be late,' Michel murmured as he eased her to arm's length.

Sandrine stood motionless for a few seconds, her eyes wide in a face  that was pale beneath its cosmetic enhancement. Then she extracted a lip  pencil from her evening purse and crossed to the ornate mirror to  effect repairs to a mouth devoid of colour.

Her fingers shook slightly, and she cursed beneath her breath at the level of emotional helplessness Michel was able to achieve.

When she was done, she replaced the lip pencil in her purse and preceded  him through to the garage, slipping into the passenger seat as he slid  in behind the wheel.

The Sheraton Mirage resort was built on a narrow peninsula, a luxury  low-rise facing the ocean. It was renowned for its innovative design,  extensive use of marble, an elegant waterfall and tranquil views out  over a wide pool with its island bar to the ocean beyond.

Michel relinquished the car to the valet to park, and Sandrine entered  the magnificent foyer at his side. Raoul rose to his feet from one of  the large cushioned sofas and moved forward to meet them. Of Stephanie  there was no sign.

'Punctuality appears not to be Ms Sommers's forte,' Raoul indicated  dryly. 'Shall we go into the lounge for a drink while we wait?'

'Maybe she's caught up in traffic.'

'Or the baby-sitter didn't show or the child was sick,' Raoul added with thinly veiled mockery.

So he'd had Stephanie investigated. Undoubtedly initiated before he left  Paris as part of the Lanier modus operandi, Sandrine concluded  cynically.

'I imagine if Stephanie is going to be delayed for any length of time, she'll call,' she felt impelled to defend.

At that moment a cell phone rang, and Raoul extracted a slim compact  model from inside his dinner jacket. Two minutes and two curt words  later, he cut the connection.

'It appears Ms Sommers has been held up with a flat tyre. She'll be another ten minutes.'

Stephanie entered the lounge one minute ahead of time, and Sandrine had  to admire her cool unruffled demeanour as she crossed to where they sat.

'I must apologise. I hope there wasn't a problem holding the booking?'  She glanced from one man to the other and offered Sandrine a warm smile.  'Shall we go in?'

Sandrine silently applauded Stephanie's style. The young marketing  executive had panache. What's more, she wasn't averse to taking control.

Something Michel would soon alter in his favour, Sandrine perceived as  the maîre d' seated them at their table and beckoned the drinks waiter.  To whom Stephanie made it clear she was hostess.

Michel's features were inscrutable, while Raoul opted for chilling politeness.

Perusing the menu and selecting a starter and main required  deliberation, and when their orders were placed Michel eased back in his  chair and regarded the attractive strawberry blonde seated opposite  with studied ease.

'Perhaps you'd care to relay your marketing strategy, Ms Sommers.' He paused a beat. 'For this film in particular.'

'Stephanie,' the marketing executive corrected with a faint smile. 'When  we receive the finished film from the studio, it will be viewed in a  private cinema by about thirty people. We'll then arrange meetings to  discuss the target market and determine to what age group the film will  have most appeal.'

Sandrine watched as Stephanie paused to lift her glass and take a  measured sip of chilled water. Her hand was steady, her actions  carefully controlled, and she displayed admirable poise as she replaced  the glass and subjected both men to a level gaze.                       
       
           



       

'Further discussions will follow on which segments should be selected  for the trailer, the shots to appear in press releases overseas and  locally, and which of these will be released to the television stations  and other media, including the entertainment pages in newspapers and  magazines.'

'Worldwide?' Michel queried, and Stephanie inclined her head in silent acquiescence.

'Of course,' she confirmed. 'We'll also push to heighten public  awareness of the film by organising a fashion shoot with one of the  prestige fashion magazines to ensure coverage in the major national  weekly magazines.'