Master of Her Virtue - By Miranda Lee Page 0,55

hope you like the hotel,’ he said.

His comment forced her to glance over at him.

‘I’m sure I will,’ she replied, a strange glitter in her eyes like stars on a cold night.

‘It’s not a new hotel,’ Leo explained, resorting to conversation in an effort to warm Violet up again. ‘It’s quite an old building and has a history second to none. It was once the home of a French countess. Then in the Victorian era, it became a rather notorious bordello.’

‘Heavens!’ Violet exclaimed.

‘As I said, it has a colourful history. Anyway, the bordello closed down after a client was murdered by the madam. A crime of passion, according to trial reports. The madam fell in love with the man—apparently he was very rich and very handsome—but her love was not returned.’

‘Fancy that,’ Violet said. ‘Did she go to jail, this madam?’

‘Not jail—the guillotine. One headline at the time said she’d lost her head over the man. Rather tasteless, but amusing.’

‘Very. They don’t have the death penalty here any more, do they?’

‘What? No, I’m sure they don’t. Why do you ask?’ He could not work out her mood. It wasn’t quite as frosty, but still not happy. There was definitely a dry, almost sarcastic tone to her questions.

She shrugged her shoulders. ‘No particular reason. So, what happened after that? Was that when it became a hotel?’

‘It did, for a while, but during the Great War it was turned into a convalescent home for soldiers. In 1920 it reverted to being a private residence once more, bought and lovingly restored by a wealthy art dealer.

‘During the Second World War, the house was seized by the Germans and stripped of everything and fell into further disrepair. After that, it stayed empty for years till eventually, it was bought by a property developer who specialised in boutique hotels. The place was totally refurbished from top to toe and opened last year to very good reviews. I’ve never actually stayed here but the pictures on the Internet convinced me it was just the place for a romantic getaway in Paris. Ah...here we are.’

CHAPTER NINETEEN

LEO WAS RIGHT, Violet thought as she stepped out of the limousine and looked, first up at the hotel’s elegant façade, then at its setting in a quiet cobbled street with a café and a bakery just across the road. Just perfect for a romantic getaway.

His using the word ‘romantic’ had gone some way to making her feel better. Because of course that was what she wanted her time with Leo to be—romantic. She hadn’t wanted him just to have sex with her. She’d wanted him to make love to her. To show her that he cared.

Okay, so maybe she’d been naive in thinking he’d fallen in love with her. He’d obviously cared enough to scour all the hotels in Paris for the right place to bring her. He hadn’t just booked a big, flash hotel from a five-star chain which had all the modern bells and whistles. He’d brought her to somewhere more private and intimate, a boutique hotel with a highly individual style and character.

‘Oh Leo,’ she said warmly as she turned to him. ‘It’s lovely.’

He actually looked relieved, making Violet feel guilty for giving him a hard time just now. It wasn’t his fault, she conceded—if somewhat reluctantly—that she’d started hoping for more than he could give.

‘I thought a girl who was once addicted to historical romances might fancy coming to a place with some history. And romance.’

She smiled. ‘You think that it’s having been a brothel is romantic?’

‘A bordello, not a brothel,’ he corrected her. ‘Apparently, a bordello was considered much more salubrious than a brothel. And much more expensive. But I wasn’t referring to that. Now, no more questions. Seeing is worth a thousand words. Come on,’ he said, and took her hand.

Several well-worn stone steps led up to the double front doors, which were huge and made of brass and glass. Before they reached the top step, a uniformed doorman opened both doors with a flourish whilst a second uniformed man hurried down to collect Violet’s luggage from the limousine.

‘Bonjour, Monsieur Wolfe,’ the stand-to-attention doorman said as they approached him. ‘Mademoiselle,’ he added with a polite nod Violet’s way.

‘Bonjour, Philippe,’ Leo answered, impressing Violet that he’d taken the trouble to find out the doorman’s name.

Violet only just managed to stop herself from gasping when they walked into the hotel lobby. She was totally blown away by the place. Never before had she seen anything like it,