BILLIONAIRE Island: Idyllic Mischief by Savannah May Page B

sun was starting it's golden descent as they got to the last dress, a real stunner in white printed silk, tight through the bodice, flaring out in numerous panels.
    “You are a genius designer,” Indie told Laurent. “You make a woman look like a Goddess.”
    Their eyes came together and held there for longer than was necessary or advisable until they were startled by the squeal of tires in the yard. Damien pulled his black truck to dominate the space and leapt from the cab, leaving the door hanging. He dashed at the house and stopped short when he came on them, slightly flustered, Laurent fiddling with the dress, his hands circling Indie's waist to decide whether to pull the dress tighter.
    “Ah- you are still here,” he said, looking at Indie.
    “We just finished,” Laurent said. Damien looked her up and down and nodded approval of the design. His eyes rested on the cling at her cleavage longer than necessary and she felt her senses prickle, with both irritation and pleasure. How could it be both?
    “Good. Come on, we'll go get a drink.” Laurent moved to make excuses but Damien would hear none of it, hurrying them up, he wanted to talk to them.
    “I have to change,” Indie said.
    “No, you will go like that.” She turned to glare at him for ordering her about and he forced himself to add; “It looks good on you-you will keep it.”
    “That's my sample,” Laurent protested.
    “We'll make another one, come on, hurry up.”

 
     
    Chapter Eight
    When Indie arrived at club Lune Noire with the two french men, she was a little light-headed from the cocktails they'd polished off at the beach bar. Damien and Laurent had engaged in some ferocious disputes during the evening and when she inquired during a pause, Laurent said it was business. They were pressed to get the store open in time for the start of tourist season after Christmas but it wasn't ready yet. Remembering she was sitting at the table, they reverted to English, which held their tempers in check for a while.
    “Why can't you make a design simple enough that a factory can make?” Damien shouted. Laurent's design for the interior was so eclectic, it was a nightmare to find a trade able to translate his ideas into reality. Damien had spent all afternoon in the capital, arguing with the glass factory over the jagged edge free-standing mirror.
    “I do not design for what the factory wants to make.”
    “Well you should if we want to open in time and recoup all the money I've spent.” Laurent rolled his eyes at Damn's focus on cash.
    “I cannot create like this.” Damien rolled and sneered at Laurent's artistic pretension. “I know in my experience that the factory wants to make what is easy and cheap for the factory.”
    Damien glared at Indie and she realized she was nodding agreement, that had been her experience in the rag trade. She could also see that the two friends were fighting about issues that weren't really at the heart of their frustration.  The manufacturer said a mirror could not be made with an edge like Mount Fitzroy, Damien insisted it could and would. The factory owner had called his father and his father had chewed him out about his pet project and told him to get back to the hotel.
    “You two should do this business together and I can go back to my own and my father can stop screaming me out all day long.”
    “Sorry, I didn't mean to butt in,” Indie said
    “No, it's okay,” Laurent interrupted. “Maybe he's right. We need some help if we're going to open in time.”
    “My father said I should let my cousin help us.”
    “She already has a job.” Laurent looked at Damien dangerously and Indie wondered what the deal was with the cousin.
    “It's only part-time. She can do both.”
    “She is working with...the competition.” Laurent said pointedly. “And maybe I don't want anymore of your family sticking their nose into my business.”
    The waiter came by and Damien ordered another round. While he cleared the table