even in movies. It looked like a mini Versailles, the decor rather over-the-top but, yes, very romantic as well. Gilt-framed mirrors stretched from wall to wall, reflecting everything from her startled self to an impossibly handsome but almost smug-looking Leo. Overhead, crystal chandeliers hung from the ornately decorated ceiling. Underfoot lay a deep-blue carpet, a perfect setting for the myriad gilt-embossed antiques which filled the area.
‘What do you think?’ Leo said by her side.
She looked up at him and smiled. ‘I think this must be costing you a fortune.’
He laughed. ‘You’d be right there. But what’s the good of having money if you don’t spend some of it? And I’ll have a damn sight more money once that movie of ours hits the screen. And all due to you, Violet. With that one simple but spot-on suggestion, you turned that screenplay from a good script into a great one.’
Violet’s heart turned over at his using the word ‘ours’. How wonderful that sounded: ours. Not his—ours. Maybe she wasn’t so silly with her dreams after all.
‘I can’t wait to see it,’ she said.
‘And I can’t wait to show you upstairs. Come on. The lift’s this way.’
The lift was amazing, like something built at the turn of the century. Just a wrought-iron cage with a wooden floor and a door that concertinaed in and out.
‘Don’t worry,’ Leo said reassuringly as he steered her inside the lift and shut the door. ‘It’s only a reproduction. It’s brand spanking new and works like a dream.’
There were only four buttons, she noticed; the hotel was only three storeys high. The building had, after all, once been a home. Violet wasn’t surprised when Leo pressed button number three. Trust him to be on the top floor!
‘The top floor,’ Leo informed her during their ride up, ‘encompasses only two suites with front- and back-facing balconies. Ours has a great view of Paris; you can see the Seine and the Eiffel Tower. Well...the top of the tower, anyway.’
By the time they exited the lift, Violet was dying to see all of it.
The porter was just leaving their suite when they reached the door, Leo slipping him a tip which brought a wide smile to the young man’s face.
‘Merci, Monsieur,’ he said enthusiastically and hurried off whilst Leo waved Violet inside.
Despite knowing what to expect now, decor-wise, her breath still caught in her throat when she walked in, possibly because of the size of the room rather than the interior design. It was simply huge, with very high ceilings and windows, a massive marble fireplace and two sitting areas, as well as a very romantic-looking dining table set for two, complete with candles. The colour scheme was still blue and gold, but the blue was paler, softer, more relaxing. No wall-to-wall mirrors, either, just well-placed wall lights and several gilt-framed paintings for decoration.
‘Wow!’ was all she could think of to say.
‘I’m glad you like it,’ Leo said. ‘All the mod cons are here, but hiding. There’s a flat-screen TV in that wall unit over there. No actual kitchen as such, but tea-making facilities in the sideboard along with a small fridge. People who stay here are encouraged to use the very excellent room service.
‘This suite is serviced by our own personal butler who will bring meals to our room and clear everything away afterwards. There’s also an à la carte dining room on the ground floor which you didn’t get to see. No doubt you will, eventually. But I’ve booked somewhere else for dinner tonight. Unless you’d rather eat up here?’ he added with a searching look of her eyes.
‘I’m happy to do whatever you want,’ she said before she realised how pathetically weak that sounded. But it wasn’t a lie. She was happy to do whatever he wanted now that she could see he did truly care about her. He didn’t just want her for sex. If that was the case, he wouldn’t be planning to take her out tonight. He’d be whisking her off to bed straight away and keeping her there.
‘Come and see the bedroom,’ he said, smiling. ‘I think you’ll be pleased.’
Pleased was not the first word which came to mind when Violet saw the bedroom. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the huge four-poster bed, with its gold satin spread and mountains of matching pillows. A bed made for sex, she thought, her heartbeat going haywire as her gaze fastened on the tasselled cords which hung down at each corner. It was so easy