The pool was a tempting option, but not exactly hair-wash friendly. Then I remembered the jug on the kitchenette counter.Maybe I could rinse off in the flower beds, whimsical garden nymph style.
Or better yet, I could use the outdoor shower.
It was a great idea. Somebody give me a medal!
With a grin, I grabbed the jug, slipped off my dress and tied my towel at my waist. Then, after stepping out of the door, I retrieved my shampoo and headed to the end of the garden.
I skirted the buzzing lavender bank and quickened my step. Could bees hear? Who knew—but I held my breath just in case, only exhaling once I reached the shower, unstung and intact.
It looked straight out of the Garden of Eden—white tiles, two statues, no flowers, and a thick curtain of ivy. Tucked into a corner at the top of the stairway to the beach, it had a view to die for. I stepped to the edge of the flagstones and peered down.
The horseshoe cove glimmered far below. Tiny boats dotted its rippling water, but there was little cover around me. Would it be okay to shower here? Outside? Naked? I wasn’t shy, but I wasn’t an exhibitionist, either. Still—who was here to see? I’d keep my bikini bottoms on, just in case.
I dropped my towel to the side, unclipped my bikini top,and turned on the tap. The metal pipes gave a squeak, butfinally, lukewarm water sprinkled out of the shower head.
With a sigh, I dipped my head under the cascade. Did I feel slightly awkward standing half naked in my new employer’s garden? You bet I did. But there’d been no sign of anyone. And Irishadtold me to make myself at home. Besides, everyone sunbathed topless in the Mediterranean. No biggie.
I’d be done in a few minutes. Who would ever find out?
5
MAXIME
Iascended the old stone steps to the villa; my fishing net draped over one shoulder. The effort never got easier, and my legs burned like Hades. But this was the quickest way from the beach back up to the house. Whoever built it must’ve been a sadist. Someone who delighted in torturing tourists or the chronically sunburned.
When I first arrived in Furze, I’d planned to find my own place—ideally somewhere without a climb to rival the summit of Everest. But once the bills were paid at the end of the week, there wasn’t much left to buy a house with. Not one inthisvillage, anyway. Renting Luc’s villa would have to do.
I glanced down at the fish I’d caught for lunch. When I dropped Fifi’s order at the club, I didn’t mention the woman who got stuck in my net. What was the point? I’d probably never see her again.
The hair on the back of my neck lifted at the thought of her.
My reluctant catch had been beautiful, but she’d irritated me—ruined my net, then acted as if I’d tried to kill her. No apology. No thank-you. Just attitude.
I exhaled hard, dragging a hand over my face. No pointletting her get under my skin. Today was too important to waste energy on a mysterious would-be mermaid with a grudge.
All I had to do was shower and wait for the nanny to arrive. Sophie’s driver would drop her off later.
Thoughts of my daughter tugged at my heart. I only had her for a short time each summer. Outside of that, I practically had to beg Valerie to let me see her—as if I was just a name on her birth certificate.
I rounded the steps, savouring the gentle breeze making its way from the beach, but as I passed under the shade of an olive tree, the sound of tinkling water met my ears.
I cocked my head. Yes. Running water mixed with… humming?
The voice was high and a little off-key, and at the discord, I frowned, climbing faster. Had Sophie arrived early? Even at twelve, Valerie would never let her swim unattended.
At the top of the steps, I came to the little gate leading to the garden. I’d left it open this morning, giving me a direct view of the villa, the pool, and… the outdoor shower.
My skin prickled.
A woman stood under the stream of water, washing her hair, her scalp thick with bubbles. She was singing a tune I recognised but couldn’t name. I scowled. Had the cleaners taken on new staff? And if they had, what the hell were they doing taking a shower in my garden?
Wearing only bikini bottoms.
I took a step closer, about to ask who she was, but then she turned her head into the sun. Pink cheeks, freckles and an upturned nose. And then, as she ran her head under the stream of water, the bubbles disappeared to reveal a vibrant shock of red hair. It gleamed in the sun like newly polished copper.
My breath caught in my chest. It was the woman from the cove. My mermaid in the net.
She had the same lithe frame; her back dusted with freckleslike a speckled eggshell. In that instant, all the moisture left my mouth. Even if shehadripped my net without so much as an apology, she looked incredible.
