"Yes... Joss is my boss," she admitted colourlessly.

"Your boss?"

She could hear the curiosity beneath the transatlantic drawl, and suspected that he was about to question her further.

"Thanks for the offer of breakfast," she interrupted quickly, 'but after all that driving down here yesterday I feel like stretching my legs. If you'll excuse me I think I'll walk down to the village. It isn't very far, is it? "

"Only a couple of miles, not that there's very much down there. I'm going into Cannes later this morning. I'll give you a lift there if you like."

"Thank you, but I'll have to check with Joss."

It was a good excuse to escape on, although as she hurried away from the villa, Sarah wasn't really sure why she should have felt any need to escape. Harry Weinberger was an urbane, sophisticated man, and hardly one who was likely to be interested in her, but there had been a certain look in his eyes as he studied her slender figure that had set alarm bells ringing in her brain. Who knew, he might even have thought she had deliberately sought him out. As a film director he had no doubt developed a certain degree of cynicism towards her s.e.x, Sarah reflected absently as she set off in the direction of the village.

As Harry had told her there was nothing much there, but the mouth-watering smell of freshly baked croissants filtering out from the patisserie proved far too tempting for her to resist, and a warm wooden bench seat beneath the plane trees in the small dusty square proved a fascinating spot to sit down and consume the croissant she had just bought, as she watched the villagers go about their daily business.

Her enjoyment of the scene in front of her was heightened by her reluctance to return to the villa, but she could not stay here for ever, she reminded herself. Sooner or later she was going to have to face up to the reality of Joss and Helene as a couple--as established lovers.

Reluctantly she got to her feet and began the long walk back to the villa.

The first person she saw as she walked down the villa's drive was Joss.

He was pacing the drive frowning, the taut movements of his body indicative of a pent-up, ferocious tension. He was dressed in cream cotton jeans and a thin, shortsleeved shirt, and Sarah's heart leapt betrayingly into her throat as she simply stood and stared at him, avidly drinking in the sight of him . the way the heavy cotton clung to the long lines of his thighs . the way his hair grew thick and dark into his nape.

He turned round and saw her and his frown deepened. He didn't look like a man who had just spent the night making love she thought heartbreakingly feeling the waves of tension beating out of him even from several yards away.

"There you are. Just where in h.e.l.l have you been?" he demanded harshly, striding towards her.

"I've turned this d.a.m.ned place upside down looking for you."

"I walked down to the village." To her consternation Sarah found that she was flushing, guiltily conscious of the fact that she was here ostensibly to work, and that she was not a free agent. As a palliative she offered without thinking, "I wouldn't have gone out, but Harry Weinberger told me Helene never gets up before lunchtime."

Instantly, she was aware of her mistake.

"So?" Joss demanded icily.

What could she say? Luckily Joss seemed disinclined to press for her response, instead hurrying her towards the villa.

"I'm seeing Helene at twelve to talk to her about her book. I want you in on the meeting to take notes." He frowned and came to an abrupt halt.

"And just how did you get so pally with Weinberger?"

"He was out by the pool this morning when I walked past. We got talking."

"Did you now? Well you'd better not let Helene catch you just talking to him. She considers Harry to be very much her own private property."

Joss was still frowning, and Sarah felt a wave of sympathy for him wash over her. Could he be jealous of the film director? If so, she knew exactly how he must be feeling. She wanted to reach out and touch him . to offer him some sort of comfort, but she knew she daren't let herself come into physical contact with him. It might prove too much for her shaky self-control.

In the event it was half-past-twelve before Helene deigned to see them.

She received them-and that was the only word Sarah could use to adequately describe the languorous manner in which she lay on a silk-covered chaise-longue-in the pretty sitting room off her bedroom, her voluptuous body sheathed in pure silk satin lounging pyjamas, her hair and make-up immaculate, but her expression petulant and bored, anger sparkling in her eyes the moment she saw Sarah.

"Joss, darling, surely we don't need your little a.s.sistant here...1 was looking forward to having you to myself," she pouted.

Sarah couldn't look at Joss. Instead she started to move back to the door, but he stopped her, fastening hard fingers round her wrist.

"Sarah stays, Helene," he said coolly.

"I need her to make notes.

Now . what was the problem you needed to discuss so urgently? "

Helene pouted, but after another acid look at Sarah she started explaining.

"I wanted to do a chapter about my relationship with John Vincent--he directed me in my first film, and everyone said that he exploited me, paying me a flat fee instead of offering me a percentage... Of course the whole world knows that he's gay and that he dislikes attractive women. He was madly jealous of me at the time because Gray was so attracted to me, and he wanted Gray himself...1 want to put all this in the book. Joss, but Richard doesn't agree."

"He's quite right," Joss told her after a few moments' silence.

"You don't want to be landed with a libel or slander suit, Helene..."

The actress's eyes flashed, her mouth hardening with temper.

"It's my book. Joss," she said angrily, 'and I'll put in it what I d.a.m.n well want to. If you don't publish it, someone else will. In fact--' "Stop threatening me, Helene." Sarah marvelled that Joss Could keep so calm.

"You asked me for my advice and I'm giving it to you."

"But can't you see? It would serve John right if I exposed him.. made him look the pathetic little creep that he is." Ugly patches of colour darkened Helene's skin, suddenly making her look all of her thirty-odd years.

"He kept me out of the latest Harding film you know.. and everyone knows that it's bound to get an Emmy. That part was made for me, but he gave it I'm going to put that chapter in my book. Joss ... and you're not going to stop me. Oh, Joss, I thought you'd be on my side,"

she cried, suddenly abandoning her anger and getting off the chaise-longue, to cling to Joss's side, curling her nails into his skin.

Sarah wanted to look away but she could not. The sight of the actress clinging to Joss exercised a horrible sort of fascination over her, compelling her to watch, no matter how much the sight tormented her.

"I am, but you can't seem to see it." Unbelievably Joss was now smiling rather wryly.

"I do understand your desire for revenge, Helene." Was that really a certain cynical dryness she heard in his voice, or was she imagining things, Sarah wondered?

"But you haven't thought of the high price you might have to pay.

Vincent will most definitely sue if anyone publishes what you want to write."

"I don't believe I'm hearing this. Joss." Helene released him and started pacing the floor.

"In fact, I'm going to pretend I haven't heard it. I suggest that you take yourself and your little a.s.sistant off and have a very good think about what you've just said... When you've done that, I'm sure you'll see that I'm right, darling..."

"And if I don't...?"

Joss's voice was totally devoid of all expression.

"Well then, darling," Helene told him malevolently.

"I'll just have to find another publisher, won't I?"