Heaven Scent Read Online Free

keep her away, Leoni thought hopefully. Or maybe they wouldn’t. Leoni slammed her hand on the steering wheel. She couldn’t bear it, she really couldn’t. Wasn’t it bad enough that Olivier had spent the last few weeks of his life with someone they didn’t even know? And now this girl was actually going to be staying at La Fleurie with them; they would have to speak to her, eat with her even. It was nothing less than intolerable.
    Feeling panicked, Leoni took out her mobile phone.
    ‘Ashton?’ she turned on her car engine. Remembering how terrible his French was, she spoke in English. ‘I need a drink right now. Do you want . . . La Belle Vie is fine. I’ll meet you there in five.’
     
    ‘Should we disturb him?’ Seraphina fretted as they loitered outside Guy’s office. She fiddled nervously with the long white-blond plait that hung over one shoulder. ‘I really want to spend some time with him before we go back to that horrible college again.’
    Max shrugged, looking sullen. ‘He’ll be too busy. He always is.’ He folded his arms across his chest, the gesture unconsciously defensive.
    Seraphina sighed. Max was sensitive but the barriers he erected around himself made him quite unpleasant to be around at times.
    Seeing Seraphina’s nut-brown eyes cloud over with disappointment, Max relented.
    ‘Fine, let’s try.’ But don’t say I didn’t warn you, his expression said as he moved closer to the door, his arms still folded and his chin tilted angrily.
    Seraphina knocked on the door of their father’s office.
    ‘Come in!’ came the rather curt response.
    Seraphina unconsciously squared her shoulders. She glanced around the office, noting how disorganised it was. Cardboard boxes containing sample perfume bottles were stacked under the window, paperwork to be signed sat in a neglected pile on the desk and reams of the lilac ribbon Ducasse-Fleurie was famous for spilled down from the shelves. The air was infused with a rich, heady aroma from tester tabs and open bottles belonging to other perfume houses.
    Guy looked up irritably. ‘Yes?’
    ‘We wondered if you wanted to do something,’ Seraphina ventured timidly.
    ‘Do something?’
    Seraphina cringed, mortified by her father’s slightly withering expression. ‘Er . . . together, you know. You, me and Max.’
    Guy suppressed a sigh and with obvious reluctance put the disappointing spreadsheets he was deciphering to one side. What was it about the twins that irked him so much? he asked himself.
    Max was as tall as all the Ducasse men, with tousled dark hair and moody, liquid-brown eyes. But he had a chip on his shoulder the size of Paris and he wore a permanent scowl. He was wildly out of control and under constant threat of expulsion from his expensive college. Hardly the model son. And then there was Seraphina. She was the very image of his beloved Elizabeth with her fragile, luminous beauty and her dreamy, idealistic approach to life. She was wearing tight black jodhpurs and a red silk shirt, a disturbing combination of schoolgirl innocence and womanly maturity.
    Guy stared at them, conscious of the inexplicable pain in his heart. He knew he couldn’t deal with them right now. ‘I . . . have too much work to do,’ he stated, averting his eyes. ‘I’m sorry,’ he added inadequately, not looking up.
    Max’s lip curled. It was just as it had been for the last two years.
    ‘Come on,’ he said to Seraphina, taking her arm. ‘We’re clearly wasting our time here.’ Ignoring his father’s tense shoulders, Max shot him a contemptuous look before leaving.
    Seraphina allowed herself to be pulled from the room and followed Max to the stables behind La Fleurie. Nothing seemed to please their father these days, she thought miserably, least of all his children.
    Max saddled up his favourite horse, a fine dappled grey named Le Fantome. Some people said greys were unlucky but Max adored his horse. Even after what had happened to his mother, he