He eyed her moodily. “I never see you.” Oh, brother. “From what I understand you’re too busy putting the library in order for Alex.”
“I never see you, either.” She turned it back on him. “You’re so busy directing, the only way I know you’ve been at the château is to find the empty basket by the door to the grand salon every afternoon.”
After a brief silence he said, “Your lunches are appreciated. You cook like your mother.” He set the empty coffee cup on the table.
Dana almost dropped the load of clothes she was fitting in the bag. A compliment from him came around about as often as Halley’s Comet. “She was the best.”
“I miss her, too. Dana—will you sit down? I want to talk to you.”
“Why?” She sensed a lecture coming on, his only reason for a talk these days.
“Because I want to give my daughter a birthday kiss. When you’re in constant motion, I can’t.” He put his arms around her and hugged her hard. Emotion welled up inside her. She hugged him back.
“I thought you’d forgotten.”
“I could hardly do that now, could I.” With a kiss on her forehead, he let her go and pulled a familiar-looking bracelet out of his pocket. It was twisted like fine gold rope, very elegant, very chic. He fastened it around her wrist. “I gave this to your mother on her birthday before she died. Now I want you to have it.”
For him to part with something of her mom’s was unprecedented. “Thank you,” she whispered. “Mother treasured this. I will, too.”
“I know.” He cleared his throat. “After the hospital, how would you like to spend the day with me? We’ll do whatever you want to do and enjoy a meal at some unique restaurant.”
Since she’d walked in the room, she’d sensed he had an agenda, but this offer was way too out of character for him. “What about Saskia?”
He frowned. “She’s not invited.”
“Can you leave your filming that long?”
“They’ll get by without me for a day.”
No, they won’t! “I thought you were on such a rushed time schedule, you couldn’t let anything interrupt the shooting of the film. Come on, Dad. Tell me the real reason.”
His face clouded. “You need guidance.”
“In other words you were going to spend my birthday giving me another lecture!”
“Is it true you purchased a bottle of Belles Fleurs wine for Alex from a Monsieur Honore Dumarre at a cost of $3,000?”
Dana felt like he’d just thrown a pickaxe at her heart. Had Alex betrayed her? She couldn’t bear it.
“Yes.”
“Yesterday I received a call from him. He invited me to attend a vintner party in honor of Monsieur Martin on the twenty-eighth and asked me to bring my lovely daughter, Mademoiselle Lofgren, with me. He was quick to remind me that true beauty and generosity like yours was rare in this world.”
Relief that it wasn’t Alex who’d told her father what she’d done filled her with exquisite relief. “How did he get in touch with you?”
“Apparently Madame Fournier at the front desk put you in touch with him in the first place. When he rang the hotel, asking for me, she put him through to my room.”
“I see.”
“Dana—don’t you know Alex Martin is using you?”
Her father would never understand a man like Alex. He was a breed apart from anyone else. “I’m sorry you see it that way.”
“Saskia saw you with him in the orchard the other day. From what she told me, I have every reason to be worried about you.”
Saskia was furious that Alex hadn’t given her the time of day, but her father couldn’t see through it. He really was lost without her mother.
“You know what, Dad? It isn’t good for us to be working together anymore. I love you very much, but after we’re through here in France, I’m going back to California. I want to get myself an apartment and look for a job that can turn into a career.”
She picked up the laundry bag. “Shall I wait for you in my car?”
He shook his head. “I’ll drive myself to the hospital.”
“All right. I’ll get a key from the front desk so I can put your clean clothes in the room later. Thank you again for the gift. It’s priceless to me.”
Two hours later she’d finished all her errands and drove through the gate of the château, anxious to prepare the lunches on time.
Over the last few days she’d been sifting through the library books, labeling the boxes to be put in their proper sections at a later date. There’d been many interesting finds, but so far she hadn’t found anything to do with the Fleury family history. Perhaps by the time she left France, she’d come across something valuable to Alex personally.
As for the gorgeous owner of the estate, she’d seen him coming and going, but he’d been more preoccupied than usual and was out in the orchard at all hours. Sensing his urgency to be finished with the outside work, she’d come up with a plan to help him whether he liked it or not.
CHAPTER EIGHT
DANA went upstairs to change into jeans and a T-shirt. After removing the bracelet and putting it away, she slipped on her sneakers and hurried back to the kitchen. As soon as the baskets were ready, Dana took her father’s to the grand salon and left it for him, then she went outside the front door with Alex’s basket.
While she’d been in town, she’d turned in her rental car on a rental truck. It was only a half-ton pickup, not as big as Alex’s, but it could hold a lot. She’d bought some gloves and was ready to roll. After climbing inside the cab, she drove around the back of the château to deliver his lunch.
She saw him loading a huge pile of branches and debris into his truck, more than it could possibly hold. Pleased to have arrived at an opportune moment, she pulled up on the other side of the pile.
Too bad she didn’t have her camera so she could capture the stunned look on his burnished face. He paused in his work. “Do I dare ask what this is all about?”
Pleased that he didn’t seem angry she said, “I traded in the rental car on this rental. It’s my birthday and I want to do something that will make me happy. If you’ll just let me help you haul this stuff away, it’ll make my day. I’m a California girl and we love the sun.”
“I haven’t had an offer like that in a long time.”
“Good.” She slipped on the gloves and climbed out of the cab with his basket. “I’ll put this in your truck. You can eat it on the way to the landfill.” Dana felt his piercing gaze travel over her body. If he was wondering how long she’d last, she would prove she wasn’t afraid of hard work.
Some of the branches were too heavy for her, but for the most part she was able to fill up the back of her truck with hefty tosses. When she saw how fast the pile was disappearing, she wished she’d thought of doing this a week ago.
“You keep up that pace and you’ll wear yourself out.”
“I’ll take a rest when I need to,” she assured him. They both continued working until the pile had disappeared. “Let’s go dump all this stuff. I’ll follow you.” She climbed in the cab and started the engine.
The last thing she saw was his dazzling white smile before he got in his truck and took off around the château. This was so much fun, she didn’t want it to end. Being with Alex made her happy. It didn’t matter what they were doing.
By the end of the day they’d made six more hauls, turning out double the work in half the time. When they returned and she parked the truck in front, he drew up next to her. In two seconds he walked over and pulled her out of the seat into his arms.
“You’re hired,” he murmured against her neck. His slight growth of beard tickled.
She tightened her arms around his broad chest. “I hope you mean that because I intend to help you until I leave.”
His lips roved over her sunburned features before plundering hers. They drank from each other’s mouths over and over. Their bodies clung. She relished his warmth that combined with his own male scent. Both were h
ot, thirsty and tired. Dana had never looked worse, but the way he was kissing her made her feel beautiful. She’d never felt beautiful before.
“You deserve a long soak in the tub, but make it a short one. Meet me in the foyer in a half hour. I’ve been looking forward to our Scrabble game and don’t want you falling asleep on me after dinner.”
“I can’t give you beautiful in half an hour, but I’ll be clean.”
“Then you don’t mind if I don’t shave?”
She smiled up into his eyes. “I like it. With that five o’clock shadow, no one would ever mistake you for our dull boy Jack.” She kissed the corner of his jaw one more time before tearing herself out of his arms.
Thirty minutes later she hurried down the staircase in sandals, wearing a khaki skirt toned with a summery tan-and-white striped blouse that tied at the side of the waist. Her hair was still damp from washing it. She’d brushed it into some semblance of order. With an application of tangerine lipstick, she was ready.
Dana’s heart was pounding far too fast. She would never be this age again and she would never have a birthday like this again with a man who could thrill her inside and out the way Alex did.
As he stepped out of his office and beckoned her inside, her legs turned to mush because he was so dark and handsome. He’d put on a cream polo shirt and tan trousers. “We match,” she quipped to cover her emotions at being invited in the room where he worked and slept.
“I thought we’d eat in here tonight.”
The interior came as total surprise because he’d surrounded himself with modern furniture. Amazingly it was like the kind in her parents’ home in Hollywood. She glanced at him. “I take it you had all this shipped here?”
He nodded. “From Bali. Pieces of mine and my parents’. When I come in this room, it helps remind me I’m not a seventeenth-century man.”
“I see what you mean. The château’s atmosphere can swallow you alive. Every time I go to bed upstairs, I feel caught between two worlds.”
She wandered over to an end table next to the leather couch where a framed picture was displayed. Dana studied it for a minute. “You get your height and bone structure from your father, but your coloring is all Fleury like your mother. They’re very attractive people, Alex.”
“Thank you. I think so, too. Will the birthday girl join me?” He held out a chair for her at a round game table made of mahogany. On the top he’d set up the Scrabble board. Next to the table was a tea cart with plates of club sandwiches, fruit and sodas. She noticed there was a supply of chocolate cookies for dessert.
Once she was seated she said, “I’m so glad we’re not having oxtail or pickled pigs feet tonight.”
He sat across from her, leveling a devilish glance at her. “After the hours of work you put in today, I wouldn’t have done that to you. Help yourself to the food and we’ll get started on our game.”
Alex had made this casual and easy. She loved him for it. “I’ll confess I haven’t played this in years.”
He sent her a sly smile.
For the next two hours they laughed and ate and played and fought over words they both made up when all else failed. Alex won every round.
“You’re too good.”
“I had to be in order to keep up with my father.”
“Do you know my dad and I never played a board game of any kind? He simply didn’t have the patience.” Since her mother died, he hadn’t had the time.
Alex eyed her steadily. “Some minds are too lofty.”
“I think he was just scared to lose,” she lied.
He chuckled. “It takes all types.”
She nodded, wishing she could fall asleep in his arms.
“You look ready to nod off. Before you do, I have a present for you.” He reached under the tea cart and handed her a wrapped gift. She assumed it was a book.
“This is exciting. Thank you.”
Though Alex lounged back in the rattan chair, she sensed an intensity emanating from him while he waited for her to undo it. At first she didn’t know what to think. The book was about an inch thick and bound in a dull red cloth. No title. It reminded her of an old chemistry lab notebook.
Curious, she opened the cover. Inside the paper had a slight yellow tinge. The French writing and notations, many of them numerical, had been penned in bold black ink. If anything it looked like an account ledger of some kind. She lifted her head to stare at Alex. “What is this?”
“You were so anxious to find something from the wine cellar, I rummaged through a couple of boxes upstairs you haven’t opened yet and came across this book kept by one of the Belles Fleurs vintners.”
“Alex—” she cried with excitement. “So not everything was thrown out.”
“Evidently not. If you’ll look down the left side, you’ll see the notations for 1902. I’m sure there are other books.”
“I wish I could read French well enough to decipher this.”
“Let me translate a little for you.” He got up from the table and came around to stand behind her. With one arm encircling her left shoulder, he used his right index finger to show her each line as he explained in English. His chin was buried in her hair, sending little bursts of delight through her body.
“June—at the critical moment when the buds burst forth, the rain throughout the month produced irregular flowering. Bunches of grapes emerged stillborn.
“July—mildew has been a problem. The rain has continued causing the Layon to flood its banks. We removed the excess leaves from the west side of the plants to allow any sun to shine on the maturing fruit. We eliminated some bunches that flowered improperly in hope that the remaining clusters would ripen completely.
“‘August—the hard labor is nearly done. The weather has turned hot and sunny. We have hopes some of the vintage will be saved. God grant us a few more dry weeks. By September we could have fruit. June makes the quantity. August makes the quality. We will see.’”
She shook her head. “I can’t believe it. To think he’s talking about the vineyard out there. Your vineyard! This is like a voice reaching out from the past. It gives me chills.”
“Me, too,” he murmured deep in his throat. It sent delicious vibrations through her nervous system. “Let’s get more comfortable and we’ll read a few more pages.”
They gravitated to the comfy couch. He pulled her down on his lap, cocooning her so her head lay against his shoulder. Page by page he read to her, giving them insight into the struggles and joys of a vintner’s work. The whole process was incredibly complicated. Much more so than she would ever have imagined.
His low masculine voice was so pleasant on her ear, she never wanted him to stop. Her eyelids started to feel heavy. She tried to stay awake, afraid to miss anything he told her.
“You’re falling asleep.”
“No, I’m not. Please don’t make me move.”
He pressed his mouth to hers. “I won’t.”
She yearned toward him. “I love it when you kiss me.”
“I love to kiss you. The shape of your mouth is like the heart of a rose. It was made for me.”
“Don’t leave me.” Her need for him had turned into an unbearable ache.
“I don’t intend to.”
Dana melted into him, trying to absorb his very essence until she knew no more.
The next time she became aware of her surroundings it was morning. She discovered herself on top of her bed in the same clothes she’d had on last night minus her sandals, covered by the duvet. She remembered nothing after she’d curled up against Alex.
It meant he’d carried her all the way up the stairs and down the hall to her room. And that after he’d put in ten hours of hard labor and prepared her birthday dinner.
As she sat up, she saw her present on the table next to the bed. Alex intended her to keep it, otherwise he wouldn’t have brought it upstairs with her. She was touched beyond words, but at the same time it meant the book didn’t have the significance for him it had for
her. He had no qualms about her taking it with her when the company left for Germany.
A psychiatrist probably had a term for her wanting Alex to care about his own property when it had nothing to do with her.
She rolled out of bed and changed into another pair of jeans and a jade top. As she put on her sneakers, a few new aches in her arms and back reminded she’d put in some hard physical work yesterday. There would be more today. She couldn’t wait. It meant being with Alex.
After she’d freshened up in the bathroom, she went downstairs to get some breakfast. He was already in the kitchen. She felt his gaze staring at her over the rim of his orange juice glass. “Sleeping Beauty awake at last.”
“I’m sorry I passed out on you last night. That last long walk carrying me must have been a backbreaker.”
His dark eyes were smiling. “Not even love’s first kiss could waken you, but I’m not complaining.”
For an odd reason she felt shy around him all of a sudden. “Thank you for a wonderful birthday. I’ll never forget it.” She reached for an apple and bit into it.
“I won’t, either. I’ve never seen a woman work as hard as you do.”
“Mother said it’s the Swede in me.”
She would never know what he was going to say next because Paul came in the kitchen looking for Alex.
“I’m glad I caught you before you went outside to work. For the next two days we’ll be shooting some scenes here in the kitchen. They’ll be night takes. The set director will want to come in here around 7:00 p.m. each evening to get everything organized. Will that be a problem for you?”
Alex shook his head. “Not at all. It will give me an excuse to play.” His probing gaze swerved to Dana. “Mademoiselle Lofgren has accused me of being a dull boy. Two nights should give me enough time to rectify her poor opinion.”
Paul winked at her. “Just don’t let your dad know.”
“What shouldn’t I know?”
Dana jerked around in time to see her father enter the kitchen looking like thunder. Paul was quick on the uptake. “It’s a joke between your daughter and me. Lighten up, Jan. It’s only eight-thirty and we’ve got a whole day and night to get through.” He disappeared out the door.
Cinderella on His Doorstep Page 12