Despite their apparent liberalism, my parents would be mortified to learn what I do. My father was the senior vice-president of a large British consumer-goods group; that’s how he met my mother, an expat. Shortly after my birth, in Lyons, we relocated to London; then, when I was seven, we moved to Geneva. I spent the rest of my childhood in Switzerland and France, and met my first love, a boy from Richmond, when his family visited mine in the Alps. We conducted a secret, three-year, long-distance relationship, but led our families to believe that we were just good friends. You could say that set the precedent for my current trysts.

Let me explain: I am a high-class courtesan. There aren’t many of us about — most of the demand, and the money, is for sex-by-the-hour services. There are few girls who focus exclusively on long-term companionship, and the ones who do tend to retire by their mid-thirties. I am 29 now, and just hitting my stride.

The courtesan divides her time between several lovers. She is differentiated from other working girls by her intellect, beauty, class, charm, honesty, humour, style and sex appeal. Her talent lies in providing desirable companionship and seduction on a number of levels.

Being a courtesan is not really about the money and the sex, though — it’s about the excitement and the experiences.

The majority of my inquiries come from attractive men in their thirties. One is a fund manager for an Asian bank; he comes to visit me on his way home. Another is a well-known Hollywood producer; we recently went to the Sundance film festival and stayed in Park City. Another is a founder of a big high-tech company. A few are in property, a couple are CEOs and most are entrepreneurs. Their company accounts are so vast, it’s easy to conceal me among their expenses.

I charge £5,000 per day, with a minimum two-day booking, and I keep my rates high so that I’m not hassled on a daily basis. I see one client a month and that’s the perfect frequency. If I did this once a week, it would become routine. I don’t see what I do as illegal, because I travel for money and nothing else. Nor do I separate the sex and the lifestyle. I enjoy the seduction; that’s what it’s about.

So how did this happen? Essentially, out of curiosity. I moved to America when I was 21 and gained an advanced degree in materials science from an Ivy League university. I began work as a chemical engineer and found myself in pseudo- relationships with wealthy boyfriends. They had high expectations of the role a woman should play: experienced, but not too experienced; smart, but not smarter than them. I became disillusioned by what a modern-day partnership was and longed to experiment. I sought advice online from women in the sex business and, after lengthy introductions, one of them (a courtesan) became my mentor. I learnt from her the rules of conduct — from handling financial transactions to distancing myself emotionally, as well as negotiating my way through the screening process. Screening is the element I favour least, because of the time-wasters and the people you just don’t click with. I talk extensively and exchange photographs with the clients before we meet. If the chemistry is not there, then I don’t bother. I don’t do crass, and the guys who contact me generally have the class not to mention sex. It’s not their primary motivation; if it were, they could hire someone by the hour.

I’m not a supermodel, but I am attractive. I have a great body, memorable features and long, dark hair. My look is always occasion-driven. In summer, I love Missoni; for partying, I like Roberto Cavalli and Michael Kors; for formal wear, I go for Costume Nationale and Valentino. My biggest indulgence is shoes — Prada, Jimmy Choo or Stuart Weitzman.

My selling point is my intellect — it is essential to be able to converse with a client on their level. I speak three languages and have a wide variety of passions to bring to the table. I read the Financial Times, The Wall Street Journal and The Economist, and research a client’s industry and interests in depth before I meet them. You have to have a great deal of empathy to be in this business. Two-thirds of my clients are repeats, and they tell me a lot about their personal lives and problems. I see myself as a psychoanalyst, and if you look at it that way, I’m not actually that expensive.

It took me about nine months to cement my reputation: from creating my persona, via the Jet Set Lara travel blog, to forging virtual relationships with clients. I was fortunate to have a shared chemistry with the first man who contacted me — charming, handsome, in his early forties and from a well-known British family. I immediately felt comfortable in his presence. We spent a few days wine-tasting in Napa Valley and the experience was so positive that it encouraged me to continue as a courtesan; if he hadn’t been so sweet, I might have given up.

Initially, I was a courtesan in tandem with my day job, but it became hard to balance the two, so I struck a deal with my employer to work solely on a project basis, something I have continued to this day.

My fascination with this lifestyle started young: I remember reading about the Profumo affair when I was 12 and being utterly captivated. Later, I followed the Heidi Fleiss case fanatically and was inspired by historical personalities such as the 16th- century Venetian courtesan Veronica Franco.

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