‘Harlan and I want to be left alone without being lectured by everyone on how bad we are for each other.’
‘But you are bad for each other,’ Audrey said. ‘You bring out the worst in each other and I can’t stand by and watch it all fall apart again.’
A middle-aged woman came out of the boutique and walked past them without even glancing at Audrey’s mother. Her mother was famous all over the world. Sibella couldn’t walk down a deserted country lane without being recognised. What was even more surprising, her mother seemed relieved no one was looking at her and asking for an autograph or to pose for a selfie.
‘Please, Audrey.’ Her mother gripped Audrey’s hand tighter and her eyes took on such a beseeching look it reminded Audrey of a puppy begging for a forbidden treat. ‘Please just give me a few days with Harlan. He’s...’ Her mother choked back a tiny sob and tears shone in her eyes. ‘He’s not well.’
Audrey knew her mother was a good actor and could sob and cry on demand, but something about her expression told her this was no act. She was genuinely upset. ‘Not well? What’s wrong with him?’
Sibella’s gaze did another nervous dart around the crowded market before she pulled Audrey into a quiet narrow lane. ‘He only told me last night.’ Her bottom lip quivered. ‘He’s got cancer.’
Audrey swallowed. ‘What sort of cancer? Is it—?’
‘A brain tumour,’ Sibella said. ‘I’m trying to talk him into having an operation and chemo. He refuses to have any treatment because the doctors have told him there’s only a small chance of success and he might end up having a stroke or worse. But I want him to try. To give himself the best chance. To give us the best chance.’
Audrey was no medical specialist but even she knew of the low rate of survival for brain cancers. Surgery was fraught with danger even when there was a possibility of removing the tumour. It was a daunting prognosis for anyone to face, and for someone like Harlan, who had never been sick other than from a hangover, she could imagine it was hitting him hard. ‘Oh, Mum, that’s terrible... Is there anything I can do?’
‘Yes.’ Her mother’s eyes took on a determined gleam. ‘Keep Lucien away. Don’t tell him you’ve found us.’
‘But—’
‘We’re not staying at the chateau,’ her mother said. ‘I wanted to but it wasn’t available, and anyway, Harlan decided we had to go somewhere different for a change. Somewhere smaller and more intimate.’
‘But don’t you think Lucien should know his father’s so sick?’
Sibella pursed her lips. ‘Harlan is going to tell him himself. But not right now. I know what Lucien is like. He’ll try and talk Harlan and me out of remarrying. Harlan wants me back in his life...in what’s left of his life.’ She gave another choked-off sob. ‘We’re planning to have a private ceremony. No fanfare this time.’
Audrey thought back to the luxury vellum wedding invitation that had been delivered to her flat. ‘Then why did you send that invitation if you’re not going to have a big showy wedding?’
‘That was before Harlan knew he was sick,’ Sibella said. ‘He found out last week but didn’t want to tell me until we went away together. Please, promise me you won’t tell Lucien you’ve seen me. Tell him I called you and told you we were staying somewhere else.’
‘But Mum, you know what a hopeless liar I am,’ Audrey said. ‘Where will I say you’ve gone?’
‘I don’t care just as long as it’s not here.’
‘But why did you come here in the first place? Lucien knows it’s one of his father’s favourite haunts. Surely Harlan knew he would come here to look for you both?’
Sibella sighed and the lines around her mouth deepened. ‘It was a risk he was prepared to take because he knows how much I love this village. We both love it.’ She swallowed and swiped at her streaming eyes with the back of her hand. ‘I guess he thought it might be the last time we will be on holiday together, so where else would he want to go but here, where we’ve had some of our happiest...’ she gave another tight swallow ‘...times?’
Audrey’s phone buzzed with a text and her heart jumped. ‘That’s probably Lucien, looking for me.’ She pulled out her phone and read the message:
Where are you?
‘Please, sweetie,’ Sibella said. ‘Please just give Harlan and me three days.’
There was that number three again. But it was the ‘sweetie’ that did it. Her mother hadn’t called her that since Audrey was a little kid. She didn’t like the thought of lying to Lucien but what else could she do? It was Harlan’s place to tell Lucien he was sick, not hers. Her mother said Harlan planned to tell Lucien himself. It would be wrong of Audrey to deliver the news he should hear from his father first-hand.
The news of Harlan’s illness changed everything. What would it hurt if her mother remarried him? He might not have long to live and at least he would die happy. ‘Okay, but I can’t say I’m happy about—’
‘I’ll send you a text now and drop a hint about some other place we might be staying so at least you’ll have something concrete to show Lucien.’ Sibella put her shopping bag down and quickly texted a message and within a couple of seconds Audrey’s phoned pinged.
She clicked on the message. ‘Okay. Got it. But I still feel really uncomfortable about lying to Lucien.’
‘Why? You don’t even like him.’
The trouble was Audrey liked him way too much. The longer she spent with him the more she liked him. The more she wanted him with a fierce ache that radiated throughout her body. And that kiss... How would she ever be able to forget it? Would she ever stop wanting it to be repeated? She frowned at her mother. ‘That reminds me. What were you thinking, making everyone think he and I were having some sort of...thing?’
Her mother had the grace to look a little ashamed. ‘I know it was bit naughty of me but Harlan thought Lucien was going to ask that broomstick model to marry him. He’d dated her longer than anyone else, but Harlan knew Lucien wasn’t in love with her. Apparently he doesn’t believe in falling in love. He must think it’s a weakness of his father’s that he’s fallen in love with me so many times.’ She rolled her eyes in a can-you-believe-it? manner.
‘Why did you send me to the cottage with that false lead?’
‘I’ve had an agent look at it. I want to sell it. I thought it might be the last time you got to go there. I seem to remember you liked it quite a lot.’
Audrey’s phone pinged again with another message from Lucien. ‘Look, I’d better meet back up with Lucien or he’ll suspect something.’ She typed a message back that she was at a public restroom. She put her phone away and looked at her mother again. ‘Three days, okay?’
Sibella wrapped her arms around Audrey and gave her a big squishy hug, just like she’d used to do when Audrey was a little girl. ‘Thank you, sweetie. This means so much to me.’ She eased back with tears shining in her eyes. ‘We want to keep Harlan’s illness out of the press for as long as we can. And I really want to talk him into having the operation and chemo. But in the meantime, I’m cooking him healthy food and keeping him away from alcohol.’
Audrey glanced at the fresh produce poking out of her mother’s shopping bag. Could there be a bottle of wine or cognac hidden in there somewhere? ‘Are you—?’
‘No,’ Sibella said. ‘I’m not drinking. I’ve decided to give it up for a while, at least until Harlan gets better...’ Her bottom lip quivered again and she added, ‘If he gets better.’
Audrey waited until her mother disappeared out of sight from the other end of the lane before she turned back to re-enter the market area. She saw Lucien almost immediately and her heart came to a juddering halt. The acting gene had escaped her but she hoped she could still give a credible performance.
‘Where the hell have you been all this time?’ Lucien asked, frowning. ‘I was starting to get worried.’ His gaze narrowed when he look
ed down at her mouth. ‘Is that chocolate?’
Audrey brushed at her face and her hand came away with a smear of chocolate plus a couple of croissant crumbs. Why hadn’t her mother said something? ‘Erm... I had a croissant.’ She could feel her cheeks blazing hot enough to cook a dozen croissants.
‘Was it good?’ His expression was unreadable but she got the feeling he was smiling on the inside.
‘Heaven.’
‘Did you catch sight of your mother?’
Here we go...
Audrey rummaged in her bag for her phone. ‘No, but I just got a text. They’re not here. They’re in Spain.’
His brows snapped together. ‘Spain?’
‘Yep. See?’ She held her phone up so he could read the message:
Having a wonderful time in Barcelona.
Lucien looked back at her. ‘My father hates Spain, in particular Barcelona.’
Audrey’s stomach lurched. ‘He...he does?’
‘He had a bad experience with a tour director there early in his career and hasn’t been back since. He swore the only way anyone could get him to go back to Barcelona would be in a coffin.’
Audrey smothered a gulp. ‘Maybe he’s changed his mind. People do.’
Lucien gave a snort. ‘Not my father. Not about Spain. No, this is another false lead of your mother’s.’ He glanced around the market, shielding his eyes with one of his hands. ‘I know this is going to sound strange but I can almost sense they’re here.’
Audrey’s heart was beating so fast she thought she might faint. Now, there’s a thought. Maybe she could feign a faint. She put a hand to her brow and staged a slight swoon. ‘Gosh, it’s hot, isn’t it? I think I’ve had too much sun. Do you think we could go back to the car now?’
Lucien took her by the arm and looped it through one of his. ‘Are you okay?’ He brushed a finger across her cheek. ‘You do look a little flushed. There’s a café over here. Let’s get you something to drink. You’re probably dehydrated.’
Audrey sat with him in the café a short time later, her mind whirling on how she was going to get him out of St Remy without him suspecting something. She’d promised her mother and there was no way she was going to break that promise. Three days. That was all she needed to keep him away. Why hadn’t she thought to ask where her mother and Harlan were staying? Maybe they were staying in one of those cute medieval houses. They might even be able to see her and Lucien right this minute. She sipped at her mineral water and covertly watched him as he surveyed the street outside the café.
His gaze suddenly swung back to her. ‘How are you feeling?’
‘Erm...better, I think.’ She drained her drink and smiled. ‘Time to go?’
He rose from the table and helped her out of her chair. ‘Do you feel up to a little walk around if we stick to the shady side of the street?’
Audrey was torn between wanting to explore the village and needing to keep him out of it. ‘Why don’t we drive out to the chateau? Isn’t that where we’re supposed to be heading?’ At least she knew her mother and Harlan weren’t there and she figured once Lucien accepted that he might then agree to fly back to London.
‘They’re not staying there.’
Audrey was starting to wonder if he was channelling Nostradamus or something. ‘How do you know? I mean, apart from my mother’s text, that is.’
‘I spoke to one of the stallholders,’ he said. ‘The chateau is undergoing extensive maintenance and repairs. It’s not being rented out at present.’
‘Then why was the owner so cagey on the phone the other day?’
Lucien shrugged. ‘Who knows? Maybe he thought I was a building inspector.’
* * *
Lucien led Audrey outside and made sure she was out of direct sunlight as they walked through the village. It was one of his father’s favourite places and he had come here for a month to recuperate after the last divorce. He couldn’t imagine his father would ever change his mind about Barcelona. In spite of her mother’s text message, he couldn’t rid himself of the sense his father was here. He would stick around with Audrey in St Remy for the rest of the weekend.
They wandered in and out of some of the shops so Audrey could keep cool, and Lucien couldn’t help noticing how taken she was with everything—the medieval architecture, the flowers hanging in baskets or spilling out of tubs, the street cafés and, of course, the food. For someone who claimed to be feeling unwell it certainly hadn’t tainted her appetite. He found it rather cute she was such a foodie, sneaking off to eat a chocolate croissant when he wasn’t looking. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d dated a woman who wasn’t on some sort of diet.
But Audrey clearly loved food, which made him wonder if she was just as passionate about other appetites. He had tasted that fiery passion in her kiss. Felt it thrumming in her lips as they clung to his. Was she thinking about that kiss now? Every time he looked at her, her gaze would dart away and she would bite her lip and her brow would furrow.
Was she finding it as hard as he was not to think about that kiss?
‘We’d better find a place to stay,’ Lucien said once they’d come out of a handcrafts boutique.
Audrey’s eyes flew to his as if he’d said he’d booked them a room in purgatory. ‘Stay? You mean here? Here in St Remy?’
‘Of course here,’ Lucien said. ‘I want to hang around for the rest of the weekend in case—’
‘The rest of the weekend?’ Her eyes were as big as Christmas baubles. ‘But...but why? I mean, I—I need to get back to London. I can’t flit around Provence all weekend now we know Mum and Harlan aren’t here.’
‘It’s all right. I’ll book us into separate rooms. Your virtue is safe.’
‘Of course it is.’ Her voice contained a note of something he couldn’t identify. Was it cynicism or hurt or both? ‘You’d never lower your standards to sleep with someone like me.’
‘We really need to do something about that self-esteem of yours, don’t we?’ Lucien stepped closer to brush a flyaway strand of her hair away from her face. ‘Do you really think I’m not attracted to you?’ It was a dangerous admission on his part but he was unable to stop himself. He did want her. He wanted her badly. He kept trying to remember the reasons he’d put up against sleeping with her, but now none of them seemed strong enough. Maybe they had never been strong enough and all this time he’d been deluding himself he could withstand the temptation.
But now nothing was strong enough to counter the red-hot desire that moved through his body in fizzing currents and eddies. He had fought his desire for her. Fought with it, wrestled with it, battled with it and yet it had been beyond him, because deep down he knew she was the one woman to unravel his control in a way no one else could.
Her tongue came out and left a glistening sheen over her lips. ‘You want to sleep with me? Really? But I thought you said—’
He ran his fingertip over her bottom lip. ‘Forget what I said. We’re both consenting adults.’
What the heck are you doing?
But right then, Lucien wasn’t listening to the faintly ringing warning bell of his conscience. He was going on instinct—primal instinct—and reading the signals from her that told him she wanted him just as much as he wanted her.
Her lip quivered against his finger and her hands came to rest on his chest. ‘But you said if we got involved it would only encourage our parents.’
‘I’m not proposing marriage,’ Lucien said. ‘Just a short-term fling to explore this chemistry.’
She glanced at his mouth and swallowed. ‘You feel it too?’
He picked up her hand and brought it to his mouth, holding her gaze with his. ‘All the time.’
* * *
Audrey walked with Lucien into the luxury villa he’d booked for the weekend with her body tingling in anticipation. He wanted her. He was offeri
ng her a short-term fling. They were going to spend the weekend together as lovers.
But her mind kept throwing up flags of panic. They were still in St Remy, when she’d promised her mother she would keep him away from the village. What if he ran into his father and her mother? What if her mother thought she’d betrayed them? It was like trying to choose between two favourite desserts. Impossible.
She would have to have both.
She could have the weekend with Lucien but she would keep him off the streets of the village by indulging in heaps of bed-wrecking sex. Not that she knew much about bed-wrecking sex or anything.
But he didn’t need to know that.
The more she thought about it, the more it seemed the perfect plan. She would have to give her mother the heads-up to avoid any chance encounters. But, since her mother and Harlan wanted time alone and with his health being so poorly, she couldn’t imagine they would be out too much anyway...she hoped.
Lucien led her inside the gorgeous villa and Audrey gasped and turned in a full circle, taking it all in. The décor was simple but elegant and perfectly complemented the medieval origins of the villa. Crystal chandeliers with polished brass fittings and soft furnishings in muted tones of white and dove-grey. Persian rugs softened the tiled floors and the furniture was stylish and sophisticated with typical French flair.
She darted over to the windows to look at the view of the maze of the streets outside and the neighbouring ivy-clad villas. Flowers spilled from hanging baskets on iron hooks that looked as if they had been forged centuries ago. Overflowing tubs of vivid red and scarlet pelargoniums lined the cobblestoned street below.
She turned and smiled at Lucien. ‘Isn’t it fabulous? I could stay here for a month.’
His smouldering gaze and his half-smile made something in her stomach rise and fall like the swell of an ocean wave. ‘Come here.’
Audrey shivered at his commanding tone. Should she tell him she was a virgin? No. He might not make love to her then. He might think her a freak or get all old-fashioned and principled about it. ‘Do you mind if I have a shower first? I’m all hot and sticky and—’
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