More Than a Fling? by Joss Wood

French.
    ‘Walking along a promenade in Cape Town,’ Ally replied in the
same language, looking down at the screen and seeing her face.
    ‘By yourself?’ Sabine demanded.
    Ally’s eyes flew to Ross and she didn’t see Sabine’s quick
smile of delight. ‘I’m with Ross Bennett,’ she said eventually, and turned the
phone so that Sabine could see Ross. Ross grinned down at her and Sabine smiled
slowly.
    The flirt.
    As she’d thought, Ross could melt any woman’s panties,
regardless of age, at fifty paces. This was why his was the best face to launch
the new Bellechier line.
    ‘Bonjour, madame.’
    The words were polite but the inflection was pure, Hey, sweetheart...
    ‘Ross Bennett. Thank you for showing my...’ Sabine’s eyes
flicked to Ally and quickly away again. ‘...Alyssa Cape Town.’
    He’d like to show her a lot more than just Cape Town, but Ross
was pretty sure that Sabine Bellechier didn’t need to know that. On the other
hand, judging by her approving look and the twinkle in her eyes, she might
approve and cheer him on.
    As Ally and Sabine chatted away—in English, for his benefit—he
wondered what the deal was between these two. They acted like mother and
daughter, had the same crazy, jump around, finish-each-other’s-sentence
conversations that he remembered his sister and his mum having, and they very
obviously adored each other. So why were they both so damn scared to take the
step and acknowledge the mother-daughter bond that was so tangible he could
almost taste it?
    Families were... weird , he thought.
And he couldn’t judge—his was as screwed up as any.
    He turned his concentration back to their conversation when he
heard his name mentioned.
    ‘Ross, my husband Justin would like me to pass on the message
that he has no problem making a donation on behalf of the Bellechier Foundation
to your think tank project in exchange for you being the face of the new
campaign. I trust that is acceptable to you?’
    ‘It depends how much he wants to give Crazy Collaborations, madame .’
    ‘I think you will be happy with the amount he intends to offer,
Ross,’ Sabine said, her face serious. ‘You will have a formal offer on your desk
first thing Monday morning. If you accept it, Alyssa will bring it back to
Geneva with her and the contracts will follow.’
    ‘Let me see what the offer looks like and we can take it from
there,’ Ross said, totally unfazed. ‘Thank you.’
    Ally and Sabine chatted for a minute longer and then Ally
disconnected, pushed her mobile into her pocket and slipped her sunglasses back
onto her face. ‘Sabine— matriarch of the Bellechiers.’
    ‘She seems nice.’
    ‘She is. What’s your mother like?’
    Ross jammed his hands into the pockets of his basketball
shorts. ‘Bubbly...loving...fussy. Lonely.’
    Ally’s eyes sharpened at that comment and Ross hissed a mild
curse for letting the words slip out.
    She was too sharp to let it slide. ‘Lonely? Why?’
    Ross stared out to sea. ‘My dad is very driven, very ambitious.
He’s a compulsive workaholic and, while he loves my mum, work always comes first
with him. My mum gets the crumbs of his attention.’
    As we did. All our lives. Unless we joined
the family business. Then we were golden until we left and became
nothing.
    Harsh, but true. And that was why he would never allow work to
consume him or become emotionally involved with anybody who allowed work to
consume her life. He was never, ever going back to playing the cymbals in the
orchestra of his life again.
    Which reminded him...
    He steered Ally towards his favourite pub and shook his head in
dismay. ‘Country music? Seriously?’
    * * *
    Being alone with him was dangerous, Ally thought, as she
shoved her keycard into the slot to pop open the door to her hotel room. But
instead of saying goodnight in the doorway she allowed Ross to follow her into
her dark room.
    He walked over to the small sitting area and flipped on a lamp
that cast a golden light