by Risk, Mona
“What a gorgeous fairy tale castle,” Mary-Beth exclaimed at the panoramic view of the chateau.
“I agree. With its two Romanesque towers, Marancourt is one of the most elegant chateaux in this historical area.”
They reached the carefully manicured lawn bordering the terrace. Yves circled the car around the crushed gravel courtyard and pulled to a stop at the bottom of a five-step marble stairway. He climbed out of the Ferrari, walked around to open the door for her, and ushered her up the stairs. She watched with interest as he punched numbers on the security panel of a small wrought iron box affixed on the wall. A panel swiveled open, revealing a four-inch, bronze key.
“Hubert,” Yves called after opening the massively ornate front door. “Nous sommes là. We are here. Dr. Mary-Beth et moi.”
“Oui, Monsieur le Comte. I am coming.” The lanky old butler, dressed in a bowtie and tux, limped toward the door, his cane clicking on the shiny floor decorated with intricate designs of different colored hardwood. “The suitcases of Dr. Mary-Beth are already in her room.”
“Thank you, Hubert. I am sorry for the trouble I gave you.” Mary-Beth smiled at the old man who looked even more aristocratic than his boss.
“Please come in. Welcome to Marancourt.” Yves led her inside the impressive foyer. She couldn’t help a gasp of admiration at the antique decor. The credenza and silk chairs belonged in a museum. “You have a beautiful home.” It was the first chateau she’d been in but she already knew it would hold a special place in her heart.
“Thank you. I want you to feel comfortable here.”
Comfortable in the chateau definitely. Comfortable around her gorgeous host, unlikely.
“Tonight, we will have dinner in the rose garden, with the other residents. Nothing formal,” he added.
“Monsieur le Comte, Dr. Carlos called just before you arrived. He and the others have left to spend the evening in town.”
“Then, it will be dinner for two. Dr. Mary-Beth and I.”
“Maybe we should cancel the dinner. I’ll be too tired by then.”
“You’re not going to bed without dinner. We have already skipped lunch.”
“I can do with a little salad and a sandwich.”
“Absolutely not. I’m not used to starving my residents. We dine late in France, around nine. Maybe you can take a nap while I check on the Rose Clinic.”
“The Rose Clinic? Is it a doctor’s office?”
“Exactly. Marancourt includes about five thousand people. Most of them work in the vineyards and the wineries. At the Rose Clinic, we offer free consultation and treatment to the villagers. The families that live on the estate are my responsibility.”
Standing in the sumptuous foyer of his chateau, Yves Malroux represented the perfect count, a hero from a historical novel, with an aura of authority about him and a deep sense of commitment to his people. Mary-Beth blinked to conceal the unexpected appreciation that flooded her heart.
“May I visit the Rose Clinic now?”
“Don’t you want to rest before dinner?”
She chuckled and shrugged. “I’m good and very curious. I’ve never imagined a clinic in a chateau.”
“It is not exactly inside the chateau, rather in the South Tower.” He glanced at the magnificent grandfather clock. “Can you be ready in half an hour?”
“Sure.”
“Par ici, mademoiselle. This way.” Hubert gestured to the marble staircase and leaned heavily on the wrought-iron banister and his cane as he painfully walked up the steps.
Mary-Beth climbed slowly and waited for the butler. When Hubert stopped and breathed heavily, she refrained from extending a hand to help him the last two steps. Shouldn’t the man retire? But it was none of her business to voice an opinion.
He led her down a wide hallway lined with family portraits. She paused in front of the one that seemed the most recent addition. A formal painting of Yves in a tux. “Par ici, mademoiselle. This way,” Hubert repeated as he passed her and waited for her. His head tilted and his eyebrows arched. “He is handsome our count, right?”
“Uh…oh.” She cleared her throat, but her face flushed at being caught ogling her host’s portrait.
“The first room here is his bedroom.” Hubert pointed at the double door with brass handles. “And these are guestrooms occupied by the foreign doctors.” They passed several single doors. “Yours is here, next to Dr. Jennifer’s.”
“Thank you, Hubert,” she said when he opened the door of the room she would occupy for the summer. Good God, what a room. Walls covered in light green silk and white furniture trimmed in gold. She’d grown up in wealthy surroundings, but nothing this sumptuous.
A young maid in a black dress and white organdy apron deposited a tray on the round table with a green granite top. “Voilà le thé et des gâteaux.”
“Oh, thank you. A cup of tea is exactly what I need and the cakes look delicious.”
“I am Simone, one of the chateau’s maids.” She poured the tea in a gold-rimmed china cup. “Cream and sugar?”
“Yes, please.”
“I will take care of you during your stay. If you need anything please ring that cord.” She pulled an elaborate silk rope hanging from the ceiling. “It will chime in the servants’ quarters.”
Awe tightened her throat at the formality of chateau life. “Thank you. I feel so pampered.” She sat in an armchair and smoothed an embroidered napkin on her lap.
“Monsieur le Comte instructed me to take good care of you so that you feel very comfortable here.”
“Oh. That’s so nice of him.” Eager to thank him for the special care she’d received, she sipped her tea without wasting time.
Moving aside the draperies printed with red poppies on a green background, Simone pulled open the glass-door to the balcony. Mary-Beth padded across the plush Oriental rug and stepped out while savoring a delicious napoleon, her first dessert in a year.
The heady scent of roses wafted toward her as she bent over the wrought iron rails. “What a view.” Well-trimmed bushes separated by decorative clusters of red, pink, and yellow roses. Beyond the backyard, a row of willow trees lined a brook but didn’t block Mary-Beth’s view of endless fields carpeted with hues of violet, blue and purple. Tomorrow, she’d start a daily walk in that natural garden.
Back inside the room, Mary-Beth indulged in a second cake, then quickly combed her hair, freshened her makeup and added a splash of perfume. She shouldn’t keep Yves waiting, although she wished she didn’t have to face him again so soon.
CHAPTER FIVE
Yves almost smacked his forehead. Mary-Beth’s attitude puzzled him. She didn’t fit any stereotype of the women who typically held his attention. Not that he’d cared deeply about any woman since he’d lost Rose-Anne.
As always, his gut tightened when he remembered the sweet young woman he’d loved and married while still a medical student. Thirteen-years had not dimmed his pain. Since then he’d dated innumerable women but had never allowed his emotions to be involved.
Mary-Beth was different and difficult to understand. Why try to understand her anyway? All he needed was a good surgeon, and she fulfilled that requirement.
He shook his head to clear it and watched her come down the stairs, regal and composed. “My room is fabulous. Thank you, Yves.”
His given name on her lips sounded like a soft music that brushed his heart, softened his insides, and hardened his muscles. “You are welcome. I will make sure you enjoy your stay in France.” Also, he would make sure she recognized her mistake in marrying a man old enough to be her father.
She looked at him and averted her eyes when he smiled.
They crossed the terrace and went down the marble stairway. His innate courtesy kicking in, he offered his hand to help her down the steps.
“I appreciate the trouble you’re taking to show me my new responsibilities.” A frown knitted her forehead and she jabbered a few breathless sentences, but avoided his outstretched
hand.
Suppressing a shrug, he crossed his hands behind his back and resumed a professional stance. It would take time to breach her carapace. So be it, he had three months and a lot of patience. “We see about a dozen patients on easy days. More during the flu season,” he said, with his strict hospital tone.
“You treat children mostly?” she asked, her voice as crisp as his.
“Anyone from a newborn to a hundred-year old. The difficult cases we send to specialists at the hospital.” He turned left into an alley and automatically raised his hand to her back to guide her through an open door, then he checked himself and didn’t touch her.
As they crossed a waiting room crowded with at least fifteen villagers, he shook hands and introduced Mary-Beth. She immediately returned the greetings with a kind word to everyone. When Bernard, the old scrooge of Marancourt, grinned, Yves knew Mary-Beth would be an asset to his clinic. “You are doing great. My people already love you.”
“I enjoy direct contact with the patients.” Her lips slanted in a genuine smile and her wariness eased as they left the waiting room.
In time, he’d bring back laughter to her lovely face. Now, he had patients to take care of. “Why don’t we start with old Bernard? He suffers from acute arthritis and he can talk forever about his gout.” Yves handed her a file. “You will find here a list of his drug allergies.”
Yves opened the waiting room door and called for Bernard while Mary-Beth scanned the patient’s chart. The hunched man followed them into an exam room. “You can sit here.” Yves pointed to a chair.
Bernard tried to hitch himself onto the examination table. “I would like the lady doctor to check me all over. I have a lot of pain here and here.” He laid his crooked fingers on his rib cage and then his thigh. His devilish grin revealed two-gold capped teeth.
Yves frowned. “Last week you said the pain was in your ankles and your hands.” Incorrigible Bernard. The old lecher had already fallen under the spell of the pretty new doctor.
“Oui, bien sûr. Yes, of course. I think I may also have pain in other places. The hands of Monsieur le Comte are hard. I am sure your hands are very soft and will not hurt me.”
“Okay, Bernard. I’ll examine you. Take my hand. Now, put your feet on the step and lie down on the table. I’ll give you a checkup,” she said, her tone calm and composed, as she helped him onto the examination table, and then fingered his neck, shoulders and chest. “Any pain here?”
“A little.” He closed his eyes and smiled ecstatically. “You are going to be here all summer, Doctor?”
“Yes.” Mary-Beth’s face remained impassive. After listening to his heart and lungs with her stethoscope, she palpated his legs and moved his ankles.
Bernard groaned. “Ouch. It hurts.”
His arms crossed on his chest, Yves observed her as she performed the medical exam.
“I’m done, Bernard. You can relax now.” She studied his file again. “Dr. Malroux, I’ll increase his dose of salicylate, if it’s okay with you?” A mix of hesitation and confidence danced in her eyes, together with a touch of vulnerability and a special something he couldn’t put his finger on yet.
He stared mesmerized. Her heavy lashes arched in a dark fan as she waited for his answer. “Very good.”
She was very good. Hmm, Bernard wasn’t the only one with lustful thoughts. Yves linked his fingers behind his back and watched their patient hobbled to the waiting room.
Mary-Beth was too good and too beautiful. Too beautiful for the old Dr. Galt and too good for a jaded man like himself. And she had the most sensual lips he’d ever seen, full and heart-shaped, created to be kissed. A French bonbon, a sweet candy, hmm...a forbidden fruit.
She deserved to find love and passion with a young man unafraid of commitment. One of his trainees maybe. Yves glanced at his lovely resident and grimaced at the logical suggestion of his rational mind.
Forget about young men and logical suggestions. Since when had his attraction to a beautiful woman followed reasonable rules?
“Any more patients?” Mary-Beth asked two hours later, after the examination rooms emptied.
“We are done for tonight.” Yves brought her back to the waiting room and walked her to the chateau. “Dinner in an hour?” he suggested as they entered the hall.
Her gaze flitted from his face to the stairs. She stiffened, raised her chin and then looked him straight into the eyes. “No, sorry. I’m really too tired. I’m going to bed.”
“I understand. You’ve had a long day. I will send Simone with a tray.” He brought her hand to his lips and brushed it with a kiss.
“Oh.” Her eyes rounded and she jerked back, her composure defeated.
Too late he remembered the gallant baise-main was not practiced in her country. “Have a good night, Mary-Beth.” He clasped his hands behind his back to avoid folding her in his arms and kissing the confusion out of her heart.
If she’d come to him before her wedding, maybe it was because she was screaming for help without knowing it. She had helped him in the past. He owed it to her to return the favor.
But could he protect her from the irresistible attraction pulling him toward her?
****
As soon as Mary-Beth entered her room, she closed the door and leaned against it, staring at her hand, still branded by Yves’s kiss. She rummaged in her purse for Steve’s photograph and studied it as if it could give her the strength that had slipped away from her.
Emotionally drained, she tossed Steve’s picture back into her purse. Squinting to stay awake, she changed into her pajamas, slipped into bed and covered herself to her chin.
After a restless night interrupted by several nightmares, she awoke at 6:00 am. It was midnight in Boston, but she needed to hear Steve telling her he loved her. Pulling her cell phone, she punched his preprogrammed number. His sleepy voice answered. Steve could never stay awake past ten o’clock.
“Mary-Beth?” he asked in a groan.
“Sorry, I woke you.”
“No problem.” A yawn reached her across the line. “Are you okay?”
His voiced dimmed as if he was already going back to sleep.
“So what did you do last night?”
“Huh? Dinner with Robert at Jim’s place. Their wives were playing bridge elsewhere. Then I read a little, had a drink and went to bed.” Predictability was Steve’s middle name.
“I better let you sleep now.”
“Huh?” Had he even heard her?
She didn’t bother to suppress a sigh of frustration. “Goodnight, Steve.” She raised her voice to make sure her words penetrated his fuzzy mind. “By the way, I am in my room at the chateau, a sumptuous room.”
“Uh, good. Have fun, darling.” A new yawn ended in a snore. She clicked the phone shut.
A wave of uncertainty swept over her. How was she to deal with the sexy Dr. Malroux?
As if she had a choice. She would fulfill her contract, go through the summer training and learn as much as possible in the OR. And then go back to Steve who would never abandon her, the way Yves abandoned every woman he dated.
CHAPTER SIX
During her first week at L’Hôpital de la Santé, Yves had been as professional as could be, and Mary-Beth had reverted to her hard-working, assertive self.
“How is your training with Malroux?” Steve asked when he called at eight o’clock every night, two in the afternoon, his time.
Mary-Beth gave him a full report of her surgeries and basked in his compliments.
“Don’t let Malroux take advantage of your eagerness to learn,” Steve usually added in a kind voice that filled her with pride. “Take care of yourself, sweetheart. I love you.”
“I love you too,” she’d answer with a new bout of energy that faded as soon as she shut her cell phone. In bed, she wasted precious hours of sleep, tossing around and punching her pillow to appease a distasteful frustration.
Why wasn’t she pleased with her life? She had everything she worke
d hard to get. A thorough medical experience, a successful career and a wonderful fiancé she’d soon marry. In the morning, hope and determination replaced gloom. Without analyzing her strange mood of the previous night, she dressed and rushed to the breakfast area where the residents met.
“Bonjour, Mary-Beth.” Roberto greeted her with a big smile she instantly returned. “How are you doing, bella mia?”
“Perfect. It’s such a gorgeous day.” The sun poured its warmth through the double-paneled windows.
“What a pity you never go out to enjoy the area.” Carlos shook his head in disapproval. “You work too hard.”
“I don’t mind.” What would she do with free time?
“I was like you when I arrived last month. Soon I realized I was getting burnt out,” Jennifer explained. “You should slow down.”
Her colleagues’ banter made her smile. “Maybe I will. Thank you for your concern.”
“Ride with me today, Mary-Beth,” Jennifer offered. “I’m going home in a few weeks. I’d love to chat with you.”
Wishing she had time to eat a healthier breakfast, Mary-Beth gulped the rest of her coffee, grabbed a cookie and followed her new friend. They walked together to Jennifer’s rental car, a little standard-shift Peugeot.
“Too bad you’re leaving soon.” A sigh escaped her. “I’ll miss you although we just met last week.”
“I’ll miss you too. I had very few friends in my life.” Jennifer started the car and drove on the country road.
Surprised, Mary-Beth squinted at her. The British resident looked so assertive. “How come?”
“Believe it or not, I was an overweighed nerd, very good at passing exams with flying colors, but I sucked at social grace,” Jennifer said with a half-smile.
“No kidding. I had the same problem. Too shy and lonely.”
“For years, I watched my sisters change boyfriends regularly and I couldn’t get a single boy to look at me.”