Fire in the Blood

'Oh, I was just larking around by the pool and fell in...'

Luc roared with laughter. 'Happens all the time,' he assured her. 'You look like a bedraggled mermaid...'

Clarrie looked relieved. 'Oh, what a pity, your lovely dress!' she said sympathetically.

'I'm afraid it's ruined,' Nadine said, but Clarrie shook her head eagerly.

'No, no, we can soon get it cleaned. Put it out tomorrow morning and we'll have it looking as good as new for you by tomorrow night.'

'Thanks,' Nadine said, wondering how to explain the tear in the back, where Sean had ripped the dress off her. Flushed, she turned to ask the desk clerk for her key.

'Where's Sean?' Luc asked as the man handed it to her. 'It wasn't him who threw you in the pool, was it?'

Nadine pretended to laugh. 'Not exactly, but I blame him all the same.'

'Why do men always get the blame?' Luc asked ruefully.

'It's usually their fault!' his wife told him. 'And stop chatting to this poor girl so that she can get to her room and change out of her wet clothes!'

Nadine gave her a grateful smile. 'Goodnight, see you tomorrow!'

A minute later she was safely in her room, and as soon as the door was shut she stripped off the wet dress and put on a warm white sweater and a pair of jeans. She was about to get her own towelling robe when she remembered that the hotel provided them in the bathroom.

When she hurried in there she saw two of them on hangers behind the door. One was much larger than the other. It was intended for a man, Nadine realised, reaching for it.

She opened her fiench windows and walked out on to her balcony, stood there looking into the moonlit gardens, and saw Sean after a minute, a pale blur half-hidden by a palm tree. He waved his hand to tell her he was waiting, and Nadine hurled the white robe as far as she could throw it.

Sean darted forward, a running silvery streak, his bare flesh dappled by moonlight. As he came out of the shadows Nadine heard voices, footsteps. Several other guests were strolling out of the gardens towards the hotel.

Sean heard them too. She saw him slide a look sideways, then leap forward, grab up the robe, but not before the newcomers had seen him and stopped talking, indeed stopped in their tracks, their eyes wide and their mouths open.

Sean shouldered into the robe, pretending not to have seen his audience.

Shaking with laughter, Nadine leant on the balcony-rail. Sean coolly walked forward, dropped to one knee and began declaiming, '"What light through yonder window breaks? It is the east and Juliet is the sun! Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon..."'

Their audience laughed and began to clap. Sean got to his feet and turned to bow. 'Thank you.'

Nadine had had enough. She went back into her room and a moment later Sean joined her.

'I hope you're satisfied,' she hissed at him, 'now that you've made me the laughing stock of the whole hotel!'

'They loved it!' he said with every evidence of satisfaction. 'Think what they can tell their friends when they go home—a private performance of one of Shakespeare's greatest plays by one of the finest actors of his generation!'

'Oh, why so modest?' Nadine said coldly. 'Of any generation, surely!'

'Probably,' he agreed, a little muscle beside his mouth twitching as if he was about to burst out laughing any minute.

'I wonder why he gave up the stage to go into films and became a producer, not an actor?' she asked her nails, inspecting them closely.

Sean gave a long, theatrical sigh. 'All right, I confess—I wasn't really that brilliant on a stage, so I went into films. Maybe it's time I went back to the theatre—I could try directing a play now. I'm sure that my reputation in films would help get me a chance in the theatre. It would ensure publicity, for a start, and then plays don't cost the same sort of money.'

'You don't want to go back to the theatre!' she said, feeling like smacking him for being so defeatist. It was so unlike Sean: he had always been so strong and sure of himself and it disturbed Nadine to see him like this. 'You love making films!'

'Past tense, darling,' he said flippantly. 'Loved it. I can't afford it any more.'

'You will be able to when you get that million back.'

'I'm not taking it!'