Page 62 of One Summer in Monte Carlo
‘They’d just think you were a spurned lover – after all, you were happy enough to come aboard before. Besides, you did come aboard of your own free will. Phil will attest to that.’
Disconsolate and fighting back tears, Nanette stared at him. It seemed a long time ago that she had thought she loved this man. ‘How long do you intend to keep me on board?’
Before Zac could answer, there was a discreet knock on the cabin door.
‘The saloon is ready, sir,’ the head stewardess said.
Zac turned to Nanette. ‘You told me recently we needed a serious talk, so, shall we be civilised and do it over a meal?’
‘Answer my question. How long?’
Zac sighed before saying slowly, ‘As long as necessary. Now, shall we eat? I haven’t eaten properly for hours.’
‘I’m not hungry,’ Nanette said.
‘Suit yourself. You can talk to me while I eat.’ Zac swung himself off the bed and walked to the saloon.
Two places were laid on the mahogany dining-table – crystal glasses, silver cutlery and candles in gold candelabra gave a gentle glow to the cabin. Champagne nestled in a silver ice bucket, while a CD of guitar music was playing softly in the background.
‘Just like the old days again when we were together,’ Zac said.
‘Hardly,’ Nanette snapped.
Zac poured a glass of champagne and offered it to her. When Nanette shook her head and turned away, he raised the glass in a mock salute before taking a long drink and then topping up the glass.
‘Vanessa is due back soon, isn’t she? Thought any more about working with me on Vacances au Soleil? We could be a good team again. I’ll even make you a director if you want. I’m hoping Mathieu is going to join the company too, in the near future.’ He moved across to the table and helped himself to a portion of smoked salmon.
Nanette, about to protest that Mathieu definitely wouldn’t be joining him and that she knew Vacances au Soleilwas a front for a money-laundering operation, stopped. Zac didn’t yet know the part Mathieu was about to play in his downfall.
‘The answer is still no, Zac. I won’t work for you again.’ She paused. ‘Besides, I’m not entirely convinced you’re not lying to me when you say it’s a legal business.’
Zac regarded her steadily.
‘You lied to me – to everyone – three years ago, about the accident, didn’t you? So what’s to stop you lying to me again?’ she said, watching his face for a reaction to her words. ‘I wasn’t driving that night, was I, Zac? What I don’t understand is why you lied? Why you ruined my life?’
In the silence that followed her words, Zac impassively forked some smoked salmon into his mouth.
Nanette felt her temper rising. How could he be so indifferent to what she was saying, to her feelings? He didn’t care. Had he ever really cared?
‘I remember driving to the restaurant,’ Nanette continued softly. ‘I remember the friends who were there. We all had a lovely meal and the champagne flowed. As it was my birthday, I drove us there and you promised to drive us home, so half a glass of champagne was all you drank.’
Nanette took a deep breath. ‘I also remember coming out of the restaurant and finding it was raining – hard. The kind of wet weather you are renowned to like for pushing your car to the limit. I remember you getting into the driver’s seat when we left the restaurant, a happy smile on your face. And yet, after the accident, you deliberately made it look as though I’d been driving when I was over the limit. When all the time it was you who lost control of the car when it aquaplaned.’ Nanette held her breath, waiting for his reaction.
Zac sighed before finally looking her in the eye. ‘Couldn’t you just see the headlines in theNice Matin– “Formula 1 Ace charged with dangerous driving”? So, when thepompiersarrived and assumed you were the driver as it was your car, I decided not to enlighten them.’
‘It was very convenient for you then, that I lost my memory for so long, wasn’t it? Couldn’t speak up and set the story straight.’
Zac didn’t reply.
‘Is that why you didn’t come near me again? Why you had me airlifted back to the UK? You were afraid that I would suddenly broadcast to the world that it wasn’t me behind the wheel that night. It was a famous racing driver who had taken the coward’s way out!’
‘I did pull you out of the wreckage before it burst into flames. I deserve some credit for that, don’t I?’ Zac asked quietly.
‘I saw the headlines calling you a hero for saving my life, and I owe you my thanks for that.’ Nanette glared at him. ‘But what you did afterwards was despicable, Zac. I was vilified and ostracised by my friends, sent away like I was contagious. I was labelled a drunken driver, charged with dangerous driving and lost my licence. The world thought I’d nearly killed you, when in fact it was you who nearly killed me.’
‘The media would have crucified me, Nanette. I was at a critical point of my career – just changing teams – I didn’t need the wrong sort of publicity. You, on the other hand’ – he shrugged before giving her a sardonic smile – ‘who was going to really care whether you lost your licence? You were just my girlfriend, no one special in the eyes of the world.’
As he stared her down, defying her to argue with him, Nanette knew that any lingering love she had once felt for Zac Ewart had just been bludgeoned to death by his callous words.
