THERE were seven other people around the dinner table, but Nicolas Sarkozy had eyes for only one. He apologised to his hostess, who was sitting to his right, and for the next two hours spoke exclusively to the beautiful Italian singer on his left.

A former top model, Carla Bruni, 40, warmed to his attentions. After pudding, to the amusement of the other guests, she asked the French leader if he had a car waiting outside. “Yes,” Sarkozy replied, adding that he would be happy to escort her home.

Outside her house in the smart 16th arrondissement of Paris, she invited him up for a coffee. “Never on a first date,” the 53-year-old president solemnly replied. It was probably the first time she had ever heard that.

France last week was getting its first full account of what may become the best-chronicled romance in modern history. Three books have already been rushed into print to document the “dangerous liaison” and marriage in the Elysée Palace one week ago of the president and the prima donna, as they are calling the new French first lady.

Presidential aides were anxious to see how well the books sold: the burgeoning happiness of “le hyper-président” has coincided, paradoxically, with a withering of public support for him. Can his approval rating rise on a “Bruni bonanza”, they wonder; will the public, like Sarkozy, fall under her spell?

According to Christine Richard and Edouard Boulon-Cluzel, authors of Carla Bruni, Sentimental Itinerary: Who Is She Really?, Sarkozy first saw Bruni at the Elysée on November 23, when she was in a delegation presenting a report to him on the French music industry. He did not talk to her. She had already taken the measure of him, however.

The authors quote Bruni telling a friend that although she would not vote for him, she had “the hots” for Sarkozy during the election campaign last year. The former top model, whose conquests included Mick Jagger and Eric Clapton, the rock stars, and Donald Trump, the American property billionaire, told another friend before meeting Sarkozy: “I want a man with nuclear power.” Sarkozy was miserable. He had dreamt of being president since childhood and at last had his finger on the nuclear force de frappebutton. Things had turned bitter, however: having settled him into office, Cécilia, his wife of the past 11 years, had divorced him, saying that she was in love with another man.

Sarkozy was in need of amusement. He called up Jacques Séguéla, a former Socialist spin doctor, and asked him if he knew the ravishing Italian. He complained that being home alone was unbearable: would he organise a dinner party at his house in Marne-la-Coquette?

French presidents have never been known to stint on their comforts and Sarkozy is no exception, seeming to enjoy the trappings of power even more than his predecessors. Before falling under Bruni’s spell, he was said to have been exercising his droit de seigneur over a blonde television presenter whom he whisked off to Morocco in a government jet for the weekend.

When he sat down to dinner at the Séguélas’ house, he bluntly told his hostess, “I apologise, madame, I do not want to be impolite, but I have to turn my back on you”, before settling into an intensely flirtatious dialogue with the willowy, blue-eyed Bruni. She started to talk about her concerts and he said, “I’ll be in the front row”, but at first she seemed to resist him. Bruni had let it be known that she was opposed to his policies, particularly the mandatory DNA testing of immigrants.

Sarkozy told her that the bad image that the French left had of him was based on a “misunderstanding”: he was the one opening up the government to women and minorities, not his adversaries. He went on to speak about his break-up with Cécilia and how lonely he was in his palace, according to another account of the dinner.

“They amused themselves by imagining what would happen if they got together,” wrote Paul-Eric Blanrue and Chris Laffaille in Carla and Nicolas: Chronicle of a Dangerous Liaison. “The astonished guests were quickly relegated to the rank of spectators.”

After Sarkozy deposited Bruni on her doorstep, she telephoned Séguéla to thank him for dinner. “It’s been five minutes since he [Sarkozy] left me,” she told him, “but he still hasn’t called.”

She would not have to wait much longer.

The next day “speedy Sarko” began his romantic assault, bombarding her with text messages and bouquets of flowers.

There followed candlelit dinners in the Elysée and expensive gifts from Hermès.

He called her “Carla de Médi-cis”, a joking reference to Catherine and Marie de Médicis, who had become French queens before her. He invited her to La Lanterne, the exquisite fully staffed chateau near Ver-sailles where he likes to spend the weekends, playing tennis and jogging.

The property had always been one of the prime minister’s perks. But to François Fillon’s misfortune, Sarkozy, who enjoys the use of various other presidential retreats including an ancient fortress on the Riviera, had decided that he wanted the official residence for himself because of its proximity to Paris.

As love blossomed, he tried to concentrate on his job, but it was obvious that Sarkozy had his head in the clouds: on December 20 he arrived 18 minutes late for an audience with the Pope, so engrossed was he in texting a message to Bruni. Even while in the holy presence he was seen surreptitiously consulting a text on his phone, according to Blanrue and Laffaille.

On Christmas Eve he surprised Bruni at home when she was having dinner with Raphaël Enthoven, her former boyfriend, their seven-year-old son and two friends. “Time to pack,” Sarkozy said, after apologising for interrupting. “We’re off to Egypt. Take-off at dawn.”

They boarded a private jet that had been supplied for the occasion by a billionaire friend of Sarkozy. A 16-car convoy deposited them and their entourage at their hotel on the banks of the Nile. Sarkozy, who is mocked in Paris for his love of “le bling bling”, presented Bruni with a heartshaped diamond engagement ring, the same model that he had given Cécilia.

Various attractions were closed to tourists by considerate Egyptian authorities so that the lovers could enjoy their own intimate tour. The King of Jordan laid on his plane to bring them to his palace at Aqaba on the Red Sea before their visit to Petra, the ancient pink city of the Naba-teans. The return to Paris was also courtesy of the Jordanian monarch.

While Cécilia had never shown any interest in being a première dame, Bruni was expected to be more supportive. Already she has taken to wearing flat shoes, Richard and Boulon-Cluzel say, so as not to dwarf her husband like Cécilia, also a former model, who was known as “Sarko’s control tower”.

Bruni will make an unusual first lady, however. Although she is unlikely to return to modelling - especially in the nude - she is expected to carry on producing music. She may even give the odd concert. And, if Sarkozy will let her, go on tour.

One of the songs on her new album, appearing next month, is believed to be about the president, calling him My Drug.

As he struggles to win back support ahead of next month’s important municipal elections, Sarkozy must be hoping that the tune will catch on.

Times Recommends

• ‘Thousands of Tamils dying’ in Sri Lanka camp
• Jackson 'rebuilt his nose before he died'
• Tehran: militiamen attack protesters