LITMIR.BIZ

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London,’ Alex replied. ‘The gardens are…’ his gaze swung back to Phoebe and her heart practically thudded to a halt ‘…illuminating.’

      ‘That’ll be the clever lighting,’ she said, amazed that her voice sounded so steady when her whole body was trembling.

      ‘Not that clever if you’re falling into ponds. By the way, have either of you seen Mark?’

      Alex tensed. ‘Who’s Mark?’

      ‘My new boyfriend.’ Jo beamed.

      Alex’s jaw clenched and his face darkened.

      ‘I’ve been looking all over the place for him but can’t find him anywhere. I thought he might have come out here.’

      ‘He did.’

      There was a heavy silence. And then eventually Jo swung round, and stared at him. ‘Oh no. Have you met him?’ She frowned, her expression starting out wary but then when Alex didn’t answer immediately, turning to anger. ‘What happened? What did you do to him?’

      Alex’s face was as rigid as stone and Phoebe hoped she’d never give him cause to look at her like that. With all that restrained strength and power, combined with the scar and the bump on his nose, she had a feeling Alex Gilbert could be a dangerous man to cross. ‘I poured him into a taxi and sent him home.’

      ‘I don’t believe it,’ said Jo, her voice tense with frustration. ‘Why did you do that?’

      ‘Mark was slightly the worse for wear,’ Phoebe interjected. ‘I tried to persuade him to cool off but he wasn’t really co-operating.’

      ‘Mark was off his head,’ Alex corrected sharply, ‘and I was under the brief misapprehension that Phoebe’s safety was at stake.’

      Jo’s mouth dropped open. ‘Why would her safety be at stake?

      ‘I thought he’d hit her,’ he said flatly.

      ‘Oh,’ said Jo in a small voice.

      A look passed between Alex and his sister that Phoebe couldn’t identify and that nugget of shame threatened to resprout inside her. ‘Nevertheless,’ said Phoebe, forcing it down, ‘you overreacted.’

      ‘We’ve already been through that,’ grated Alex.

      ‘I could put it down to jet lag if you’d like,’ said Phoebe helpfully, and then shuddered at the dark scowl that crossed his face.

      Jo sighed and her shoulders slumped. ‘Was Mark very drunk?’

      ‘As a skunk,’ said Phoebe, ‘and after some time in the pond he smelt a bit like one too.’

      Jo’s nose wrinkled. ‘What was he doing in the pond?’

      ‘Making friends with the wildlife,’ said Alex dryly. ‘Someone forgot to put up a fence.’

      ‘No one forgot,’ said Phoebe. ‘It’s deliberate. It’s cool. The fencelessness of the San Lorenzo Roof Gardens symbolises the uninhibited harmony between man and nature, and is part of its uber-cool appeal.’ At least that was what the website claimed.

      ‘It’s absurd,’ Alex growled. ‘Your boyfriend,’ he said, emphasising the word with sharp disdain as his gaze skewered Jo to the spot, ‘could have caused serious damage.’

      ‘It’s not his fault,’ said Jo, her face falling. ‘He’s up to his ears in debt.’

      ‘Idiot,’ muttered Alex.

      ‘Spoken like a true billionaire,’ said Phoebe tartly.

      Alex’s eyes glittered dangerously. ‘There you go again,’ he said, shaking his head as if in disappointment. ‘Jumping to conclusions and making rash assumptions. I haven’t always been a billionaire. I know what it’s like to have nothing but debts.’

      So do I, thought Phoebe, and tried not to think about the enormous loan she’d taken out to set up her business.

      ‘But I didn’t drown myself in drink,’ Alex added.

      ‘Lucky you.’ There were times when Phoebe felt like mainlining vodka, but so far she’d managed to resist.

      He turned to Jo. ‘I don’t think you should see him again.’

      ‘Thanks to you I probably won’t,’ Jo fired back.

      Right. Phoebe had had enough of this. Sibling squabbling had no place here. ‘Perhaps you two could continue this discussion another time,’ she said in a voice that brooked no argument. ‘Jo, you need to go back inside and mingle. Alex, you need to get a drink and relax. And I need to get on with making sure nothing else goes wrong.’

      ‘Ms Jackson?’

      Phoebe spun round to see the portly form of Mr Bogoni barrelling towards them, huffing and puffing and looking as if he were on the verge of exploding. Her spirits dipped at the expression on his face. Oh, Lord. What was the matter now? Surely one mishap was quite enough for one evening.

      ‘Ms Jackson,’ he said again, smoothing his hair.

      ‘Mr Bogoni,’ said Phoebe, flashing him a bright smile that as usual didn’t manage to dent the icy demeanour. ‘You’ll be delighted to know that the flamingo remains unharmed.’

      ‘I am indeed glad to hear that, but unfortunately we have another problem.’

      ‘What sort of problem?’

      ‘I think you’d better come with me.’

      Chapter Three

      PHOEBE’S MIND RACED as she followed Mr Bogoni across the terrace towards the bar. What could possibly have happened now? And why did Alex have to be following quite so closely? In fact why did he have to be there at all? ‘There was no need for you to come too,’ Phoebe muttered out of the side of her mouth.

      ‘You think not?’ he drawled. ‘This is perhaps the most important night of my sister’s career. I’m interested in everything that goes on.’

      ‘Whatever it is,’ said Jo firmly, ‘Phoebe will be able to fix it.’

      Phoebe shot Jo a smile of thanks for her vote of confidence and prepared herself for the worst.

      But as she stepped into the bar her eyes were drawn up and she froze in absolute horror.

      Oh, dear God. This wasn’t a problem. This was a disaster of gargantuan proportions, the likes of which nothing in her experience could have prepared her for. Compared to this, the Mark debacle was as insignificant as a tiny sequin on a full-length ball gown.

      Phoebe blinked to check she wasn’t hallucinating, but no. This was no hallucination.

      Every single one of Jo’s beautiful handbags was on fire. Multicoloured flames licked at the precious creations and the acrid smell of burning plastic and fabric filled the room. Sparks flew. Metal crackled. Then, as if cremating handbags weren’t bad enough, the individual light above each pedestal went out, the localised sprinkler system kicked in and tiny droplets of water rained over the charred remains. Smoke billowed and then whooshed up into the powerful air conditioning vents.

      Icy panic flooded through her. How on earth was she going to spin this? All the guests had edged to the sides of the room and every single one of them was staring up at the spectacle in utter amazement. Jo looked as if she was on the verge of tears; Alex’s stony expression told her he wasn’t amused in the slightest.

      The dreadful silence gave way to a rumble of speculation that began to sweep through the room. Gasps of amazement were swiftly followed by murmurs about flammable fabric and toxic materials and Phoebe realised that if she didn’t do something in the next few minutes the situation would become unsalvageable and her business would fail barely before it had begun.

      But what? For the first time in her life, she didn’t have a clue what to say.

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