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‘I don’t,’ Kate ground out miserably, wondering how long it would be before his anger was tainted by contempt.
‘Well, I’ll explain,’ Guy promised tersely. ‘You trusted me with your body, but when it comes to your life, you shut me out. What sort of woman does that, Kate?’
His accusation was stunning in its ferocity and Kate’s head felt as if it was being held inside a steel vice and where there had been fire in her veins now there was only ice. ‘I don’t understand…’
‘Non, Kate,’ Guy corrected her bitterly. ‘I’m the one who doesn’t understand. Did you really think I was such a monster?’
‘So, how do you feel about my plans?’ she challenged.
‘Furious now,’ he admitted frankly. ‘I’m not going to let it happen.’
‘But it is happening,’ Kate pointed out, wishing she could sound a bit more sure of that.
With a gust of impatience, Guy wheeled away from her. He took a couple of strides across the room, where he drew to a halt with his back to her and swiped one tense hand across the back of his neck. ‘This isn’t a game, Kate. You aren’t a little girl now. You can’t just arrive in Villeneuve after all these years and turn everything here upside down.’
The passion in his voice frightened her. ‘And is that what I’m doing?’ Kate demanded softly.
‘You know you are,’ Guy murmured without turning around.
She longed to go to him, to say how sorry she was and ask if they could begin all over again. But the deep-rooted reserve she had always felt, being lower on the social scale than the Count de Villeneuve, held her back. He turned very slowly and stood in silence looking at her, his face a mask that told her nothing.
‘There’s no time to discuss this now,’ he said decisively. ‘You have guests waiting outside and more are due to arrive at any moment.’
‘That’s right,’ Kate agreed, holding her breath to see what he would say next.
‘Just remember, Kate. These estates and the people who depend upon them don’t exist for my pleasure. I serve the Villeneuve estate and everyone connected with it. It’s up to me to ensure that the environment in which we all live—’
‘Is sterile?’ she cut in.
He looked hurt by the remark. ‘I cannot allow you to run a guest house here,’ he said flatly.
‘And I cannot allow you to tell me what to do,’ Kate retorted, returning to the fray.
‘Perhaps if you had read those damned documents you would understand—’
‘Understand what?’ she said, shaking her head with frustration.
‘There’s no time,’ Guy said tensely. ‘The future of the Villeneuve estate may mean nothing to you, Kate. But it’s my life.’
‘And a pretty boring one with no characters in it,’ she pointed out stubbornly.
‘There are more than enough characters in the village without you importing any more,’ Guy informed her as he flared a glance out of the window. ‘Those covenants stand, and if you can’t, or won’t, live by them—’
‘What? Get out?’ Kate suggested angrily. She watched his jaw clench as he bit back the words that were clearly clamouring in his head. Guy wasn’t used to being countermanded. She could see his iron will flexing from every angle in the mirrors over the counter; his eyes were narrowed, his mouth a firm line, jaw tight and the magnificent spread of his shoulders were raised in a tense pose as he braced his hands against the side to watch Megan showing the others round the garden.
‘No, not that,’ he murmured to himself. ‘That would be far too easy for you.’
What did he really see? Kate wondered as she followed his gaze. Could Guy see La Petite Maison already working its magic on those six people outside, as she could? Did he hear their laughter, see the animation in their faces, the glow of anticipation in their eyes? How would he feel when he knew his own mother…?
He pulled away from the counter at last and stared down at her.
‘I can’t stop this now,’ Kate said tensely. ‘I know you’re angry with me, but—’
‘I’m more disappointed than angry,’ he said honestly, ‘that you didn’t see fit to share your plans with me.’
His anger wouldn’t have hurt so much, Kate realised. But what she had told him was true—she couldn’t turn back now. There were too many hopes invested in La Petite Maison. She only had to think of what Megan had given up. ‘If you force me to, I’ll fight you every inch of the way.’
‘Of that I have no doubt,’ he murmured.
For a few moments nothing seemed to exist beyond the drama being played out between them. Kate felt exhausted by it before she started.
‘You’d better get ready,’ Guy said, reading her mood. ‘Everyone will be here soon.’
‘So you won’t…?’ Her voice tailed away as she looked up at him.
‘I won’t spoil your party,’ he confirmed. A shadow briefly crossed his face, as if he was fighting an internal battle—almost as if part of him wanted her to succeed. ‘I can see how much effort you’ve put into this,’ he said as his glance took in the beautifully presented dishes of food covering every available surface. ‘We’ll talk about La Petite Maison some other time—soon,’ he added, as if to prove to her that the problem wouldn’t just go away.
‘Thank you,’ Kate said simply. ‘Will you stay?’
‘Stay?’
‘Yes, for the party. Why not?’
‘If I do,’ Guy reasoned aloud, ‘it will appear to everyone that I am endorsing your decision to open a guest house on the estate.’
‘And if you don’t,’ Kate argued, ‘the villagers will wonder why you do not wish to share this happy occasion with them.’
‘Oh, Kate…you’ve no idea, have you?’ He pressed his firm lips together as he looked at her and she saw the familiar mix of indulgence and frustration in his keen grey eyes. ‘I’d be no use to you here, anyway,’ he said, as if trying to convince himself.
‘I disagree.’
‘Of course you do,’ he said dryly. ‘Force of habit.’
A small answering smile touched her lips as she saw the suspicion of a smile starting to tug at the corners of his mouth.
‘Allez,’ he said softly, in a voice that made her ready to walk over hot coals for him if he asked. ‘Go and get ready for your guests.’
‘You’ll still be here when I get back?’
His jaw worked and he said nothing, only his sweeping brows rose minutely, as if he was pleased she had asked the question.
As she walked away from him, Kate felt the intensity of his stare following her every move—scorching a trail between her shoulder blades. She had no idea whether he would still be there when she had freshened up, but there was no doubt in her mind at all that this business between them was going to run and run.
CHAPTER EIGHT (#u980907a6-e312-53db-8103-36f3f3c12f63)
THERE was no time to dwell on Guy’s disapproval. The moment Kate returned downstairs she was thrown into the thick of things. While she had been getting ready the whole village seemed to have descended on the cottage. She felt a stab of disappointment when she saw the kitchen was deserted, with no sign of Guy. But hearing a steady rumble of conversation outside, punctuated by laughter and shouts of recognition, she knew she had to get over it. She had shed her working outfit in favour of a simple linen dress in a soft shade of lavender and, having brushed out her long hair in frantic haste, she’d chosen the fastest option, leaving it loose to billow around her shoulders in a bright golden haze.
The strong afternoon sunlight was already mellowing into a rich apricot glow as she hurried to remove some warm apple brioche out of the warming oven. After dusting the sweet bread with icing sugar, she slipped it on to a large oval dish and placed it on to a tray, ready to go outside. Hovering for a moment by the window, Kate couldn’t help smiling to see Monsieur Dupont, missing only his badge of office—his crisp white jacket—holding court with the new arrivals clustered around him… Then she spotted Giles’s wife, Elise, chatting with Megan, and Madame Duplessis actually flushing with pleasure as she held the attention of the brawny young village blacksmith. And someone had thought to bring an accordion, and was playing so well that a few people had already started dancing on the stone-flagged patio.
The party was a success, she realised happily. And best of all, she decided as her gaze rested upon a tiny, but elegant figure, Guy’s mother was moving around the garden, offering titbits to the villagers and basking in their obvious delight at seeing her again—the men whipping off their hats and the women’s eyes full of pleasure to see this evidence of her recovery. Food was a great icebreaker, Kate mused, as she lifted out a large plastic container of her own cardamom ice-cream from one of the cooler bags Madame Duplessis had thought to bring over from the château. Putting the ice cream and a scoop next to the brioche, she opened the door, picked up the tray and hurried outside.
‘Félicitations!’
‘Guy! I thought you’d gone.’ Kate tensed as she gazed up, then relaxed into bemused speculation as she weighed up his outfit. His strong tanned arms shaded with dark hair and ornamented by nothing more than a slim gold watch on a black leather strap were now adorned with a tea towel! ‘What on earth are you doing with that?’ she said, noticing a second one he’d tied around his waist to cover his linen trousers. After all that had happened, his narrow-eyed look of wry indulgence was all the more surprising.
‘Someone had to take charge of the barbecue,’ he said dryly. ‘You surely didn’t think I’d leave it to Megan…?’
‘Why not? She’s perfectly capable.’ Kate’s heart jumped when she saw a humorous twist tug at his lips.
‘When she’s not distracted, I’d agree with you,’ Guy agreed evenly. ‘But right now…’
He shrugged and as Kate followed his gaze she saw Guy’s chauffeur busily plying Megan with morsels of cake from his plate.
‘I’ve heard of angel cake, but never Cupid’s,’ Guy murmured as he removed the tray from her hands.
When the villagers saw their Count bearing down on them with yet more delectable food a space was quickly cleared on the table for him and a queue formed for the pudding. Elise hurried over to take care of the serving, and then Guy found that his place at the barbecue had also been supplanted, this time by Monsieur Dupont. Just behind the barbecue an old feed trough had been packed with ice and filled with bottles of wine. Tossing his temporary apron aside, Guy filled up two glasses and returned to Kate’s side.
‘Buves ceci,’ he said, pressing the glass into her hand. ‘You look like you could use it.’
As compliments went, she’d heard better, but at least he was true to his word. Not only was he behaving as if no dispute existed between them, but he’d stayed on to help and had entered into the spirit of the party… So calm down, Kate told herself. ‘Thank you, it’s delicious,’ she murmured, keeping her eyes safely fixed on the pale golden liquid.
‘What can you smell?’ Guy demanded, jolting her attention back to his face when she had been so resolved not to succumb.
‘It’s your wine?’
‘Naturellement,’ he said expansively. ‘Now, concentrate and tell me what aromas you can detect.’
‘Concentrate?’ Was he joking?
‘I’ll show you,’ Guy said, putting his own glass down. Coming to stand behind her, he put his hand over hers and held the glass up so that it was well out in front of her. ‘Belle robe!’ he exclaimed softly.
‘You like my dress?’ Kate queried uncertainly, intensely conscious of the pulse that seemed to be throbbing through her hand, a pulse she was sure he must feel too.
‘In this context,’ he murmured, ‘I am remarking on the beautiful colour of the wine.’
‘I see,’ Kate said, attempting studious attention when she was sure the quality of her voice was enough to give her away.
‘Now we swirl and sniff.’
‘We do?’
After a quick rotation of the glass, Guy reached under her long hair with his other hand to find the sensitive area at the back of her neck, his thumb controlling, his fingers splaying to nurse her scalp. ‘Breathe in through your nose,’ he commanded softly, encouraging her forward, ‘and then tell me what you have discovered.’
Nothing she could safely tell him about, Kate thought ruefully as she obeyed him.
‘Well, Kate?’ he demanded, clearly expecting some erudite comment.
‘Er… Honey, melon…sunshine?’ she added in desperation.
‘Très bien,’ he drawled.
His praise thrilled through her and, considering the exceptional circumstances, Kate couldn’t help feeling rather pleased with herself.
‘Now sip,’ he instructed as he brought the glass to her lips.
‘Can I swallow?’
His look was X-rated. ‘I’ll leave that up to you,’ he murmured dryly.
‘Mmm, delicious,’ she said, flashing him a wide-eyed look.
‘Here, let me take that,’ Guy said, removing the glass from her hand, his face a mask of beautifully controlled amusement. ‘Shall we dance?’
‘Dance?’
‘Yes, you know,’ he prompted softly. ‘I take hold of you and we move together rhythmically.’
This was one game she was never going to win, Kate decided. Nonchalant compliance was the only way if she was to stand a chance of concealing the ridiculous amount of happiness bubbling away inside her at the realisation that he seemed to have forgiven her.
Taking her silence for assent, Guy linked her arm through his and led her towards the patio. Men and women and children were packed in, jostling for space as they danced to the boisterous music. But as soon as they saw Guy approaching some people nudged others and others stopped dancing altogether, until finally the accordionist’s fingers faltered and then stilled.
Feeling self-conscious suddenly, Kate pinned an apologetic smile to her face as she glanced around. Perhaps this was as good a moment as any to return to the kitchen.
Sensing her uncertainty, Guy firmed his grip on her arm. ‘Continuez…please,’ he insisted. ‘Mademoiselle Foster is a little timid…’
‘No, I’m not!’ Kate whispered fiercely.
He gave a rueful shrug, the corners of his mouth sloping in wry amusement as the music started up again, but at a more sedate pace—and Kate aimed a kick at his shins. ‘Missed,’ he said, contentedly drawing her close.
With her defiance dispatched at a touch, Kate’s senses flared beneath Guy’s controlling hands. Firm, but restrained, he left her in no doubt that she would not be allowed to get away until he was ready. Not that she wanted to…ever. But this was only power play for him, she reminded herself forcefully. Guy had always relished the opportunity to bait what he called her wilful spirit—and nothing had changed. She had no doubt he would wield that same power—and with swingeing attention to detail when it came to asserting the wretched covenants when it suited him. But until then… Constraint was seductive, she realised, as the smallest movement of his fingers caused her own to respond, yielding; searching, until the urge to explore the contours of his enclosing fist was impossible to ignore.
Guy made no move either to discourage or encourage, but simply permitted her to twine her fingers through his. It was enough. She was on fire for him. He responded with equal subtlety, one hand shifting very slightly on her waist, increasing the pressure as they moved easily together to the music. His message was unmistakable…if she chose to hear it. Kate flicked a glance around but, having accepted the fact that their Count was happy to mingle with them on the makeshift dance floor, everyone had started dancing again. There was no one to see as she rested her cheek against his chest and wondered what it would be like to have Guy make love to her…to see him focus his mind, his strength and his considerable finesse on pleasuring her.
She could feel the hard contours of his body through the lightweight summer fabrics and picturing him without any clothes on at all didn’t take a great leap of the imagination. The thought of Guy stretched out completely naked and fully exposed for her to enjoy on some huge bed was intoxicating. How small she would look next to him, Kate mused, sighing with delicious anticipation as she pressed her breasts up against an unyielding expanse of chest… He would overwhelm her…engulf her with his powerful frame which, if the laws of proportion held true, meant that this wonderful body currently nudging against every erogenous zone she possessed would be completed by the most magnificent erection—the very thought of which sent a bolt of sensation shimmering down her spine to lodge in a place that was already disgracefully receptive. For a moment she could think of nothing at all as she allowed some tantalising little spasms to herald a foretaste of his lovemaking.
She felt his arms tighten around her, almost as if he sensed what was happening, sensed it and supported her so that she could relax into the startlingly pleasurable waves. A moan that was little more than a sigh escaped her as they faded away again far too soon… Hearing that, he stroked one hand very slowly down the length of her back almost as if to console her. She had always known Guy would be a wonderful and intuitive lover; one who knew just how to draw out the pleasure for her until she was forced to beg him for release. He would choose the moment—he would know when to tip her over the edge. He might be all charm, elegance and sophistication on the outside, but those wickedly expressive eyes and all too knowledgeable hands gave him away… They belonged to a connoisseur of the sensual arts, and one who was driving her crazy right now with his whispering passes of a rock-hard thigh against the pulsing site of her arousal.
‘Forgive me, Kate… Kate.’ He was forced to repeat her name a little louder to drag her back from her erotic daydreams.
‘Forgive you—’ she murmured distractedly, looking up at him with eyes clouded with desire. ‘For what?’
‘I haven’t been paying you enough attention,’ he murmured, a gleam of intuition brightening his gaze as he stared down at her.
As his cool minty breath caressed her neck Kate felt all the tiny hairs stand erect. Had he been neglecting her? If this was how it felt to be ignored she couldn’t wait to have his full attention. ‘Have you been sidetracked? I hadn’t noticed.’ His eyes were dark with humour when she looked up into them.
‘Bien, I’ve been talking to quite a few people,’ he said. ‘You must have noticed.’
‘Well, I didn’t,’ Kate said, adding by way of an excuse, ‘I’ve been enjoying the dancing too much.’
