There's Something About St. Tropez by Elizabeth Adler Read Free Book Online Page B

just threw my things into my suitcase and left the ship on the first tender.”
    She paused dramatically, then she said, “And the bastard had the nerve to stand there, on deck, begging me to come back, while the other passengers lined the rails, cheering me on.”
    She sniffed back a threatening tear.
“The bastard,”
she said again. “So that’s why I’m looking for a room, and it can’t be expensive because I don’t have very much money.”
    Sunny shook her head, looking at the little crowd of misfits. She thought Mac was never going to believe what was going on here.
    Â 
    The night and the storm were over. Bertrand Olivier knew it was time to leave.
    A short while later, back at his lair, he spread out his oilskin cape then lay down on it. He slept like a dead man on his rocky hillside, oblivious to the tiny lizards that, made bold by his stillness, slithered over and around him. One even rested for a moment, basking in the newly emerged sunlight on the pocket of Bertrand’s blue cotton polo shirt, beneath which could be felt his beating heart.
    It had been the best night of Bertrand’s eleven-year-old life.

 
5.
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    It was morning. Still groggy from lack of sleep, Sunny stood with the others on the terrace at Chez La Violette, final mug of instant in hand, staring, disbelieving, at the devastation. In the dark and the storm they had not been able to see that the house looked nothing like the photographs. The terraces were overgrown with weeds, the trees and shrubs had gone wild, the unkempt lawns were a sea of mud, and the empty swimming pool was a wreck of broken tiles, awash in debris and stagnant water.
    â€œLooks to me as though Madame Lariot has a lot to answer for,” Nate said grimly.
    â€œBut what do we do now?” Sunny said. “We’re too tired to go looking for her.”
    â€œAnd homeless,” Belinda added bitterly.
    â€œWell, I have to admit ‘homeless’ is a new feeling for me,” Billy Bashford said, bewildered.
    â€œOh dear, oh dear, and I’m broke,” Sara Strange wailed. “I should never have left that ship.”
    â€œYes you should,” Sunny said firmly. “You should never stay with a cheating bastard.”
    â€œThat’s cussin’,” Little Laureen said loudly.
    They turned to look at her, surprised that she actually spoke.
    â€œI apologize,” Sunny said. “I forgot myself.”
    â€œLaureen doesn’t like cussin’,” Billy said. “She hears it from the ranch hands though, it’s just second nature to them, talking like that.”
    Little Laureen spoke again. “When are we going for pancakes?”
    Billy’s doubtful glance took in the group. “Guess I could probably fit y’all in the Hummer. Be the devil to park though, in them tight little streets, but I’ll manage.”
    Sunlight streamed down from a suddenly clear blue sky and they turned grateful faces up to it.
    â€œ
Now
I’m in St. Tropez,” Sunny said, hugging Tesoro closer. But to her surprise Tesoro gave a throaty warning growl, then flung a few high-pitched yelps into the air for good measure.
    â€œWhat’s with her?” Belinda complained, but Sunny was staring down the driveway.
    From where they were standing they could not see the gates, but halfway to the house the drive curved past the terrace. And trotting up that drive came a dog. Ears perked, it paused here and there to sniff the exciting French aromas. Then it loped toward them. A familiar three-legged bouncing lope.
    â€œPirate?”
Sunny shook her head. She must be delusional. She had been up for thirty-six hours. Or was it more? Apart from a nap on the plane she’d had no sleep, and she was beginning to feel a little woozy and as though her legs didn’t quite belong to her. But Tesoro certainly wasn’t hallucinating. That dog knew her enemy when she saw