Falling for the Rebel Falcon. Lucy Gordon

doing well,’ Leonid said in her ear.

      ‘Thank you. I’m too nervous to say anything very much.’

      ‘Hmm.’

      ‘Hmm?’

      ‘Somehow I can’t quite see you as nervous. A woman with your looks never has to worry about her reception. What are you professionally? No, let me guess. A model?’

      ‘What do you think?’ she teased.

      He looked at her assessingly.

      ‘All right. I think you’re undercover, pretending to be an ordinary guest but actually doing something else.’

      Her heart nearly stopped. ‘Whatever can you mean by that?’

      ‘You’re a hotel inspector, checking this place out. Perhaps I ought to warn Marcel about you.’

      ‘Try it. See how you look when he finds out it’s not true.’

      ‘All right, I give in. But I’ll get it. Just give me a little time and we’ll see who wins.’

      His smile was charming with a glint of steel, and gave her a faint twinge of guilt at the way she’d wriggled out of the situation. She would never have told him an outright lie, but neither could she tell him the truth at this moment. So avoiding the question was her only option.

      I’ll tell him later, she promised herself. Then I can explain, make him understand. But not just yet.

      To her relief, Jackson was indulging in some foolery, enabling her to laugh and divert Leonid’s attention.

      As the meal drew to a close the diners began to rise and drift out to the balcony overlooking the River Seine. Leonid and Travis stood a little apart, deep in conversation.

      ‘Look at them,’ Charlene said at Perdita’s elbow. ‘So like each other. It comes as a shock to see them together.’

      ‘He told me people often mistake him for Travis, until they get near enough to see the differences,’ Perdita said.

      ‘Yes, and those differences aren’t really physical. They come from inside. There’s a bit of Travis that’s a natural clown. He loves laughing at people. He even likes people laughing at him as long as that’s what he meant them to do. But Leonid has a dark, gloomy side that’s mostly the one he lets people see. At least, that’s what Travis has told me. I’ve only just met him but I can see what Travis means.’

      Perdita nodded. Even a brief acquaintance with Leonid was enough for her to have sensed his dark side, and know that it was always there, overshadowing even his brief lighter moments.

      ‘But I dare say you know him better,’ Charlene said.

      ‘Some people are easier to know than others,’ Perdita hedged. ‘I’m sure you’ve found that out too. As you say, Travis is a laugh a minute, but there must be more to him than that.’

      ‘Oh yes.’ Charlene nodded. ‘When the press are studying you as closely as they do with him, you have to keep a part of yourself that’s just for you and your friends. Hello, what’s happened?’

      A frisson had gone around the table. Heads turned to regard the tall white-haired man standing at the door.

      Amos Falcon, Perdita thought, recognising him from pictures she’d seen in the press. Research had told her far more about him than Leonid realised, how he’d been married several times but seemed incapable of being faithful to any woman.

      One by one his sons went to greet him. Darius with an extended hand, Jackson with an embrace, Marcel with a thump on the shoulder. Only Travis and Leonid held back, approaching him slowly and greeting him with restraint.

      Perdita saw the way Amos surveyed his sons, and the way they surveyed him. There might be some affection in this family, but there was also a lot of suspicion. She had an instinctive feeling that the young men had inherited enough of their father’s nature to be his combatants as well as his sons.

      Leonid brought Amos across the room.

      ‘Father, I want you to meet Erica,’ he said.

      There was the same look of surveillance from Amos, studying her, asking himself if she was a threat to what he wanted.

      You bet I’m a threat, she thought. Because I like getting my own way too.

      Amos brought his wife forward. There were more introductions. Champagne was served. The atmosphere was convivial. Perdita tried to stay modestly in the background, but soon Amos bore down on her.

      ‘It’s a pleasure to meet you,’ he declared formally. ‘Leonid hasn’t mentioned you before. How do you come to know each other?’

      She drew in a swift breath. She and Leonid had prepared their story as far as the wheelchair was concerned, but they hadn’t had time to cover this. Feeling his tension, she thought fast.

      ‘I took a holiday in Moscow,’ she said. ‘I love the city but I got into a silly muddle, and Leonid rescued me.’

      ‘How did that happen?’ Amos asked.

      ‘I really couldn’t tell you,’ she said, improvising fast. ‘I don’t speak the language so I didn’t understand much of what was happening. I remember I lost my way and took the wrong street but—’ She gave Leonid an urgent look.

      ‘It was a lucky chance I happened to be there,’ he said quickly. ‘After that, I had to keep an eye on her in case she was lost again. And we just … got on well.’

      ‘So when you heard about this wedding you took the chance to see each other?’ Amos asked.

      Luckily Janine intervened, patting her husband’s arm and saying,

      ‘Don’t interrogate them, darling. This is a party, not a court case.’ She smiled at Perdita. ‘See you later.’

      She led her husband firmly away.