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‘Well, your apartment—’ She stopped, at a loss for words. It was hardly her place to comment on his unexpectedly contemporary choice of furnishings.
‘Isn’t what you expected?’ Guy supplied. ‘But when you have lived all your life surrounded by the splendour of Château Villeneuve, you find that you want very little. Champagne?’ As he spoke he slipped off his jacket and tossed it on to one of the chairs. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth when he saw her eyes darken.
Collecting herself quickly, Kate tore her glance away from the broad sweep of his shoulders beneath the crisp white shirt and the tantalising glimpse of hard tanned chest shaded with dark hair just visible where he had undone a couple of buttons. ‘Were you expecting someone?’ she challenged, focusing instead on the ice bucket and glasses.
‘Only you,’ he said as he loosened his cuffs.
She steeled herself not to look. ‘How can I be sure of that?’
‘You can’t,’ he said, rolling back his sleeves.
Kate heard her breathing quicken and grow loud in the silence. There was no way she could ignore the power in his arms, or fail to interpret the look in his eyes. And when he held out his hands to her she went to him without hesitation. He felt so good, so hard and strong, and he tasted as delectable as the warm male scent filling her nostrils. And this time his kiss was not that of an older man respecting the untutored innocence of a much younger woman, but the response of a man meeting his lover on equal terms. He ravished her mouth with a searing hunger, kissing her all the way across the room, backing her towards the door. Then, using one hand to turn the handle, he put his shoulder against it and, swinging her into his arms, carried her across the subtly lit room.
His huge bed was cool and firm, with plump down pillows and an ivory silk throw that he snatched back and threw to the floor. Kate found herself on linen sheets, freshly laundered and scented with lavender. The strength of her passion might have surprised him but he mastered her easily, holding her firm underneath him while he whispered promises that conjured up such erotic images she only begged him for more and in words she barely recognised.
But Guy was too strong for her and would not be hurried. He chose instead to watch her responses with a lazy interest, capturing her wrists and holding them high above her head whilst tracing an unhurried path down her neck, her shoulder and then her arm with his other hand. Time was suspended in a realm where sensation ruled and Kate barely registered the fact that he had eased the zip down the back of her dress until she felt him teasing her nipple with his tongue through the taut lace of her bra.
With long, shuddering sighs, she meshed her fingers through his thick black hair, increasing the pressure, but he broke away, taking his shirt over his head in one fluid move. As he reached for the buckle on his black leather belt she watched him release it, thrilling with pleasure to see him as eager as she was to be rid of his clothes. Then, as he lowered the zip on his linen trousers and swung off the bed to step out of them, she feasted her eyes again on his iron-flat stomach banded with muscle. Relishing her female power, Kate allowed her gaze to rove slowly and appreciatively over his magnificently proportioned torso and then on to where his black silk underpants accentuated, rather than concealed, his raging desire. Sprawling back with one arm tucked comfortably behind her head, she bent one knee a little, deliberately and very provocatively, as she continued to stare at him.
Realising he was the floor show with an audience of one, Guy caught her gaze and returned it loaded with the promise of delicious retribution. Then, matching his length to hers, he rested his head on the heel of his hand and scorched a trail with his eyes over every deeply aroused inch of her. Only after what seemed like the longest time did he turn his attention back to her face. ‘Your lips are red and swollen from my kisses,’ he observed, tracing them with one firm thumb pad. ‘Your eyes are emerald-bright and feverish with desire… And your hair is gloriously disordered and streaming over your breasts…’
Each of his words was like a caress and each one of them stimulated her a little more. She gasped out loud when his hand claimed her breast. But when she reached for him he only laughed softly and held her hand away.
‘Not yet,’ he said, scoring tantalising circles around her achingly sensitive nipples with the tips of his nails. ‘Take your bra off for me first.’ And now it was his turn to settle back to watch her with his head resting comfortably on his arms.
‘Not yet,’ Kate said, deliberately provoking him. Straddling him so that she had the comfort of feeling his arousal against her, she thrust out her breasts. She knew how Guy loved to toy with her responses, play her effortlessly so that as each moment passed she thought the next would bring satisfaction, only to have him deny her again… Well, now it was her turn. As he moved forward to take matters into his own hands she leaned back. ‘Not yet,’ she repeated in a voice full of irony.
But she had underestimated him and his reflexes were lightning-fast. The gasp as he swung her underneath him turned to a moan as his hands closed over each distended nipple and his thumbs began to chafe them firmly, mercilessly through the taut fabric until the livid buds became unbearably sensitive. ‘You always did like playing games,’ he said. ‘Is this what you had in mind?’
‘Yes… Oh, yes—’ she managed before his plundering mouth cut her off again. And then her bra was gone and her lush breasts were fully exposed for his perusal. She had the satisfaction of hearing his sharp breath of approval before strong hands robbed her mind of the power of thought as they moved to measure and stroke and clasp and mould. Then, dipping his head to suckle, he teased her with his lips and with his teeth until she knew she would go mad with frustration.
As she sucked in a deep and shuddering breath he looked up, but the confident humour in his eyes warned her that he hadn’t finished with her yet. Teasing her breasts with his hands, he lit a trail of fire down to her waist with his kisses until, finally easing her thighs apart, he sank down between her legs.
He nuzzled the damp scrap of lace, tracing the swollen lips it confined with his tongue. But as Kate lifted her knees and cupped her hands behind them, opening herself more for his enjoyment, with a low growl of triumph he seized the thong and ripped it off. Kate responded immediately, impatient fingers slipping beneath the waistband of his black silk underwear. Guy allowed her to wrestle him for a while until, pushing her on to her back, he brought the playfulness to a close with stroking fingers and a mouth that knew too much about pleasure. But when almost immediately Kate found herself teetering on the edge of release she tried to push him away.
Lifting his head, he murmured wryly, ‘This is no time to be self-conscious.’
‘I know,’ Kate admitted huskily, turning her head away to mumble, ‘but I’m scared.’
Reaching a hand up, he cupped her chin to turn her back to face him. ‘Scared of what, baby…losing control?’ And when she didn’t answer he coaxed her legs apart again. ‘Don’t worry… I’ve got you. Let go.’
And when she did as he said it was with such a burst of sensation she cried out in astonishment and bucked against him for the longest time until he wrapped her tightly in his arms and kissed her more intimately and more tenderly than ever before. ‘And now it’s my turn,’ he murmured, guiding her hand down to where there was no hope at all of containing him within one of her fine-boned fists. But when the fears came back he knew just how to soothe them and how to tempt her on until, lodging one powerful thigh between her legs, he finally held her powerless beneath him.
‘I’m really frightened now,’ Kate admitted in a gasp, and more by his size than any doubt as to his consideration for her.
‘No, you’re not,’ Guy insisted huskily, warming her ear with his breath. ‘You’re inexperienced and apprehensive, but never frightened, Kate—not with me. I would never, never hurt you.’
With her gaze firmly locked in his she accepted the steady thrust, trusting him completely as he stretched her beyond anything she would have thought possible, filling her with an intensity of sensation she could never have anticipated. The sense of completeness made her cry out his name and she stabbed her fingers into his taut buttocks as he withdrew slowly, making him plunge deeply again. And as he felt her rise towards him in an unmistakable plea for more Guy built the rhythm, adding a little more force each time until they were moving urgently together.
He was supremely responsive, moving with firm, deep strokes to inflame the quiver within her until it became an all-consuming need, and when the pulsating energy consumed them both the violence of his spasms prolonged her own stunning release. For a while it seemed to Kate as if the aftershocks would never end. But Guy knew just how to soothe her back down again, tucking strands of damp hair behind her ears and bathing her face with kisses, then stroking her body until finally she quietened against him and snuggled contentedly into the nook between his neck and shoulder.
‘No sleep,’ he warned softly. ‘Not yet.’
‘Why not?’ she said faintly in a sleep-slurred voice.
‘Because,’ he murmured, moving on to his side, ‘I’m not finished with you yet.’
‘Oh, really?’ Kate breathed as she stretched out languorously with her arms flung up to rest on the soft mound of pillows.
‘Yes, really,’ Guy insisted in a voice laced with dry humour as he moved one of her legs over his thighs, spreading her wide again.
As he settled in closer Kate felt him brush against her as he turned her on to her side. And this time when he thrust inside her there was no fear, only moans of sheer delight as he proved she still needed his attention. ‘Are you never satisfied?’ she gasped as he took up the familiar rhythm and intensified the sensation with the steady movement of his fingers.
‘I just want to make sure you don’t forget me while I’m away,’ he said as he used the heel of one hand to nudge her into the best position.
‘Away?’
But this was not the time for discussion, and Guy made sure that pleasure took her over until the thought that he might be leaving soon was submerged beneath tidal waves of sensation.
Kate woke to find Guy dressed ready to go out. The dark formal suit, together with the tailored shirt and silk tie instantly rang warning bells in her mind. ‘Where are you going?’ she said, suddenly wide awake. As he bent to plant a kiss on her mouth she sat up and they clashed with an awkwardness totally at odds with the harmony they had enjoyed only hours before.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said softly as he straightened up. ‘I didn’t mean to wake you. Something urgent’s cropped up—business,’ he explained reassuringly when he saw the look on her face. ‘Don’t worry, I won’t be away long. Go back to sleep.’
His voice was soothing, and maybe he stayed until she went back to sleep, or maybe she simply never woke up properly in the first place, Kate thought drowsily when she woke up later that same morning. But Guy had said nothing about going away, she thought, tossing back the covers. A pang of uncertainty hit her square in the stomach. They hadn’t exactly had a proper conversation, she remembered as she sat up. Torrid images hit her all together, blotting out the tenderness and leaving doubt in its place. This just wasn’t like her, Kate realised, clutching her knees as she struggled to hang on to the fact that she was rational, sensible and cautious by nature and that Guy was the most honourable man she knew. No, she argued with herself as she buried her face. That was how she used to be, until Guy turned her whole world on its head—and he had only taken what was freely offered.
Why should he tell her where he was going? What hold did she have on him? Had last night meant nothing to him? She felt physically sick as she bit down hard on her lip and tried not to care. The trouble was she loved him; she had always loved him and always would love him. And what if he didn’t feel the same? She cast about in desperation for some strong independent woman theme to provide her with a survival strategy, but it didn’t work. She knew she would take whatever Guy had to give her and on whatever terms he chose.
CHAPTER NINE (#u980907a6-e312-53db-8103-36f3f3c12f63)
‘WHAT do you mean, the electricity is off again?’ Kate asked Megan as soon as she arrived back at La Petite Maison. ‘Guy’s only just had it reconnected.’
‘Some snip of a woman turned up with a clipboard under her arm and a sheaf of papers under her arm. These are for you,’ Megan said grimly, handing Kate a package. ‘Where is his Lordship?’ she said, scarcely pausing for breath. ‘You might need him.’
‘Guy?’ Kate said distractedly as she headed for the kitchen table. ‘He had an urgent business meeting.’ Already she felt as if they had been apart for a lifetime—even a moment without him was too long.
‘At the château?’ Megan said, breaking into her thoughts.
‘I don’t know where he’s gone,’ Kate admitted, suddenly feeling very unsure of herself.
‘You did discuss the guest house with him?’ Megan said confidently.
‘No,’ Kate said uncomfortably. ‘I’m sorry, Megan, but we just never got round to it. I saw to the plants and then went to bed and…’ Her voice tailed away. She was no better than Megan was at telling lies. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘I’m afraid you won’t find our next batch of guests half as accommodating as the last if their e-mails are anything to go by,’ Megan said, looking anxiously over Kate’s shoulder while she emptied the documents from the foolscap envelope on to the table. ‘And I’d bet a pound to a penny that this isn’t good news either,’ she added ominously.
‘Where is everyone?’ Kate said, realising the cottage was very quiet as she focused on the first page.
‘With the Countess at the château,’ Megan explained, cheering up a little. ‘She invited everyone to take a tour of the gardens. That young chauffeur of hers came for them in a mini-bus.’
‘That young chauffeur,’ Kate echoed wryly, relishing the moment of distraction. But soon she was frowning again as she skimmed through the sheaf of papers. ‘But these are yet more translations of the covenants,’ she said, ‘and a covering letter that says if we continue to trade as a guest house the Villeneuve estate will close us down.’ Badly shaken, she dropped the whole lot on the table in disgust. Had Guy orchestrated this little surprise for her, knowing he would be well out of the way when the bombshell struck? Or could it be someone working independently—someone with much to gain, seizing the moment while he was away?
‘They’re not the translations you’re paying for, are they?’ Megan asked anxiously, cutting into her cogitations.
‘No, of course not,’ Kate confirmed. ‘I’ll only have sight of those when my solicitor returns from holiday.’
‘So these could be any old tripe and onions,’ Megan proclaimed contemptuously. ‘It’s not as if they were even delivered by Guy. He probably knows nothing about them.’
‘How can I be sure of that?’ Kate said, as the fear that Guy had betrayed her reared up and demanded a hearing.
‘You can’t be sure of anything until you speak to him,’ Megan pointed out sensibly. ‘You know his mother loves the idea of you having the guest house here. And you said it yourself—he was grateful for the part our activities are playing in her recovery.’
‘He didn’t say that exactly,’ Kate said. ‘He just guessed what we were up to and decided to turn a blind eye—for the duration of the party, at least. I’m not sure he would approve if we turn La Petite Maison into a full-time business.’
‘All right, then.’ Megan dismissed the licence she’d taken with a theatrical gesture. ‘So, all you need to do now is talk to him, Kate—’
‘If only life was that simple.’
‘But it is that simple, if you’ll only slow down and allow it to be,’ Megan said with her usual self-assurance.
‘Just because the Countess has decided to involve herself with such enthusiasm doesn’t mean Guy can be persuaded to do the same,’ Kate said. ‘You’re a hopeless romantic, Megan,’ she scolded gently. ‘Why would Guy have sent another set of documents over if he supported our venture?’
‘Who says he sent them over?’
‘This woman, presumably.’
‘Huh!’
‘He’s had plenty of opportunity to talk to me about it, but he chose not to,’ Kate said, trying to reason with an entirely adamant Megan.
‘Maybe he had other things on his mind,’ Megan murmured, pretending interest in some paintbrushes she had soaking in jars by the sink. ‘So, Kate,’ she said, swinging round with her hands planted firmly on her hips, ‘if his Lordship’s gone walkabout, what are you going to do about our little problem?’
Kate squared her shoulders as she made her decision. ‘Tell me about this woman.’
‘Blonde, beautiful, thirtyish,’ Megan said, screwing up her face as she thought about it. ‘With all the charm of a white shark hunting.’
‘You liked her?’ Kate suggested wryly to mask her concern.
‘She seemed pretty sure of herself,’ Megan observed, her lips pursing in a tight, disapproving grimace. ‘Who do you think she was?’
‘I’ve no idea,’ Kate admitted edgily. ‘Estate manager, perhaps?’
‘You’ll find a solution. You always have before,’ Megan asserted confidently.
Maybe not this time, Kate thought. Maybe this time she had slipped up badly, and not just on the business front. But for now there was no point getting Megan all worked up. ‘I’ll take a shower and then I’ll get straight round to the estate office,’ she said, throwing herself into work mode.
After a quick shower, Kate telephoned the Villeneuve estate office and was eventually put through to the woman she had spoken to before. The woman she had always supposed was Guy’s secretary.
‘Mariamme D’Arbo, can I help you?’ The voice was lightly accented and sounded impatient even before Kate had a chance to state her reason for calling.
‘This is Kate Foster,’ Kate said in a pleasant enough voice that stopped short of encouraging pointless civilities.
‘Ah, Mademoiselle Foster—’ The voice had hardened considerably now. ‘I take it you have read the documents I brought round to the cottage? I hand-carried them to ensure that they arrived safely.’
Kate had no intention of being patronised and surmised that the woman also had taken the opportunity to have a good look around. And poor Megan would scarcely have been on her guard… She might have thought the woman was a prospective guest. Deciding to take no chances, Kate proceeded cautiously but firmly. ‘As Monsieur le Compte is out of the country,’ she said, ‘I would like to arrange an immediate appointment to speak to whoever is in charge while he is away.’
Seconds ticked until she was on the point of asking if Mariamme D’Arbo was still there, when the other woman spoke. ‘That would be me, mademoiselle.’
She sounded amused—and smug. Without missing a beat, Kate came back, ‘In that case, I’d like to make an appointment to see you.’ But the cogs in her mind were whirring off the scale. Who the hell was this woman?
‘That may not be possible, mademoiselle. I am very busy for the next couple of weeks, as you can imagine—’
‘Make time,’ Kate said coolly, reverting to business mode. ‘You can’t just serve eviction papers and then refuse point-blank to discuss them.’
A few moments passed and then she was informed in a bored voice, ‘I may be able to shuffle things around. I shall have to consult my diary.’
‘I’ll wait,’ Kate said. There was a great deal of paper-rustling at the other end of the line but Kate would have bet La Petite Maison that it was a pointless display made solely for effect.
‘No, mademoiselle,’ the weary voice came back to her at last. ‘It is just as I told you before. I regret—’
‘I shall be at your office at nine o’clock tomorrow morning,’ Kate said firmly. ‘I take it you will be in at nine? I shan’t take up much of your time. Goodbye, Ms D’Arbo.’
Slamming the phone down, she held it down almost as if Mariamme D’Arbo might be capable of anything, even transmitting her unpleasantness through the cable. The next call Kate made was to her solicitor in England, but he was still out of the office. She briefly considered phoning Guy, but if he was on her side she had nothing to worry about and should get on with sorting out the problem herself, and if he wasn’t—well, in that case, she had no option but to do exactly the same thing. And then she realised that she didn’t even have his mobile number and started worrying all over again.
‘Have you sorted it out yet?’ Megan asked, as if reading Kate’s mind. Leaning her considerable bulk against the table, she surveyed Kate, a concerned frown playing across her homely features.
‘Not yet,’ Kate admitted. ‘But I have made an appointment to see the woman who brought the papers round.’
‘Wouldn’t I like to be a fly on the wall when that confrontation takes place,’ Megan commented wryly.
‘It’s just as well you won’t be,’ Kate said. ‘I can’t imagine it will make for relaxing viewing.’
‘Just as I’d hoped,’ Megan said with a wink as she scooped up her paintbrushes. ‘Ah, well, I’d better be setting up for this evening’s art classes—’
‘Light through the trees by the river at sunset, perchance?’ Kate suggested dryly.
‘Don’t you go playing little Miss Innocent with me,’ Megan advised, giving Kate a shrewd look. ‘You can’t tell me that the Countess and I didn’t find the perfect excuse to give you and Guy some time together?’
Perhaps it would have been better if they hadn’t, Kate thought, feeling vulnerable again. ‘I should have joined you when I said I would,’ she murmured half to herself.
‘You’ll feel differently when Guy comes back,’ Megan said with great confidence as she headed for the door.
Another stab of anxiety pierced Kate’s heart. ‘I hope you’re right,’ she said softly.
‘Why don’t you ring him? Put your mind at ease?’
Sweet, pragmatic Megan… Of course she should ring him. If they had thought to exchange numbers it might have helped! But why should they when Guy had given not the slightest indication that anything would change at Villeneuve while he was away? He was either totally unscrupulous or completely unaware of what was going on, Kate realised unhappily. Either way she was on her own.
‘I can handle this perfectly well without Guy’s help,’ she insisted, assuming an air of confidence she didn’t feel. Megan’s facial expression was hardly encouraging. ‘What?’ Kate demanded. ‘Do you think this woman is not all she seems?’
