Falling for the Rebel Falcon. Lucy Gordon

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      But that was Perdita, he sighed. She could have that effect on a man.

      He carried her bags down to the car, made sure she was comfortable, and headed for the airport.

      ‘If this wedding’s being kept under wraps, how come you found out?’ he asked when they were halfway there.

      ‘I got a tip-off from someone who owed me a favour.’

      He should have known. That too was Perdita’s way. There was always someone who owed her a favour.

      At the airport he saw her to Check-In and was rewarded by a peck on the cheek.

      ‘Thank you, Jim dear. I’ll be in touch.’

      But she didn’t say when, he noticed. She would have forgotten him by the time she was in her seat.

      Here he did Perdita an injustice. She was sorry to have hurt Jim, however unintentionally, and thought about him until the plane was in the air. Only then did she turn her mind to the job she was about to do.

      It was nearly midnight when they reached Charles de Gaulle Airport, and she emerged from Customs to find a middle-aged woman waiting for her. This was Hortense, a French businesswoman with extensive contacts. She and Perdita liked each other, and also had a flourishing business relationship based on the exchange of favours. After enthusiastic greetings they headed for the car.

      ‘I don’t know how to thank you,’ Perdita said as they made their way towards Paris.

      ‘No need. I owed you. It was just a lucky chance. The company I work for is organising the wedding.’

      ‘Why is it all being done so hurriedly?’

      ‘Rumour says Marcel is afraid of losing Cassie. When she agreed to marry him he moved fast before she could change her mind.’

      ‘What about the family?’

      ‘They should be here tomorrow. Travis from Los Angeles, Darius and Jackson from England. Perhaps even Leonid from Russia. He’s got a room booked but nobody’s sure if he’ll actually come. People who know him say he’s hard as nails. You cross him at your peril.’

      ‘Hmm. He sounds interesting.’

      ‘Dangerous. If you meet him, be careful.’

      ‘But why? Where’s the fun in being careful?’

      ‘Must everything in life be fun?’

      ‘Of course. Fun is good. Fun is creative. Fun puts you in control and catches him on the wrong foot.’

      ‘Him? Who him?’

      ‘Any him.’

      ‘And that’s important?’

      ‘Oh yes,’ Perdita said with a little smile. ‘That’s very important.’

      Hortense made no reply. It could be hard to know just how much of Perdita’s lively speech she actually meant.

      They had reached the most expensive part of Paris, and soon a magnificent building reared up before them.

      ‘There’s La Couronne,’ Hortense said.

      ‘Wow! It looks a fabulous place.’

      ‘It was once the home of aristocrats, but the family was wiped out in the French Revolution, and the building went into decline until Marcel bought it. He specialises in grandiose hotels in big cities all over the world, and La Couronne is the best.’

      When she’d checked in Hortense accompanied her upstairs to her room, whose luxury made Perdita nod appreciatively.

      ‘It may strain your budget,’ Hortense said, ‘but it was the last one available, and it’s on the same corridor as the Falcons.’

      ‘That’s the bit that matters,’ Perdita agreed.

      They ordered a meal from Room Service and sat munching contentedly.

      ‘Was it difficult to dash off at a moment’s notice?’ Hortense asked.

      ‘Well, one person wasn’t too happy,’ Perdita admitted, and told her about Jim.

      ‘But in another way it was handy,’ she added. ‘I was due to go to my parents tomorrow, for a party to celebrate my cousin Sally’s engagement, and it’s probably better that I won’t be there.’

      ‘Your parents are academics, aren’t they? Big names in the world of learning, so I’ve heard.’

      It was true that Professor Angus Hanson was an imposing man whose learning and reputation struck awe into the hearts of those who knew him. His family were equally erudite, occupying high positions in research and education. All except Perdita, his youngest child.

      ‘They’ve always seen me as the black sheep,’ she told Hortense. ‘Frivolous, foolish, not caring about serious matters.’

      ‘Why is it better that you’re not there?’

      ‘Sally’s fiancé is a man I used to know, about three years ago. It seemed to be going well for us, but then I got the chance of a big scoop. Someone let slip something. I followed it up and … well, it did me a lot of good professionally.’

      ‘Ah yes, I remember hearing about that. It made your reputation as a journalist.’

      ‘But Thomas was horrified. He thought it was all terribly vulgar, and wanted me to abandon my career. When I wouldn’t … well …’ She shrugged.

      ‘If he’d loved you he wouldn’t have broken your heart for a reason like that,’ Hortense said, shocked.

      ‘Who said my heart was broken?’ Perdita demanded indignantly. ‘With all the chances that were opening up for me, I had other things to think of. Besides, I realised that he didn’t love me. He’s an academic, and he wanted to join my family for the sake of their standing.’

      ‘So he courted your cousin instead. Yes, it’s better you’re not at their engagement party.’

      Perdita gave a wry smile. ‘The only thing academic about me is my name. Apparently when my father discovered that my mother was pregnant yet again he groaned, “Well, I’ll go to perdition!”’

      ‘And perdition means hell, doesn’t it?’ Hortense chuckled.

      ‘That’s right. He really wasn’t keen on another child. After that, Perdita became the family nickname for me.’

      ‘But it’s not really your name, is it?’ Hortense said. ‘You write your features as Perdita Davis, but I noticed you checked in as Erica Hanson.’

      ‘Yes, that’s my real name, but I only use it for official stuff. Erica Hanson keeps her bank account in order, pays her taxes on time and generally behaves properly. Perdita Davis is as foolish and frivolous as a scholarly family ever produced.’

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