Forbidden Monsieur: Princes of Avce

by Victoria Pinder

  The tour of the vineyard had been informative, with Alex sending clear signals that he wasn’t interested in her. Every time she came too close, he pulled away and described how specific varieties of vines grow or how the filtration system worked. She sighed. “He just spent two hours describing grapes from seed to wine and showing me his new system. He’s determined to be successful.” And not get entangled with her. “I don’t think he wants to see me this soon.”

  His mother nudged her toward the front door. “Nonsense. You look beautiful tonight and he’ll need a dance partner. Go and enjoy yourself, Chelsea.”

  Alex and his mother had been kind to her. It’s why she wore her sleeveless knee-length dress which was the longest one she had in her bag. She shuffled, uncertain, as she heard the music from the local teenage DJ played from his musical setup near the dance floor. “I’ll go, Louise.”

  His mother giggled behind her as Chelsea walked over to Alex. She turned and saw his mother speaking to Henri.

  Being near Alex brought awareness of attraction, but it seemed only on her part. His dark hues and cute short but curly hair made him seem so typically French, but it was the soulfulness of his every move that made her ache. This party was like a dream itself and so different from the party Matteo Korbel, Count of Golchin, had thrown just to meet some new woman he’d take to bed and forget.

  She turned back and saw his mother motioning for her to go talk to Alex. Her heart sped up with apprehension and longing, but she ignored the pangs of unrequited desire. She couldn’t force him to feel anything. He sat at a picnic table with a bottle of his wine. She bounced on her toes and stared down at him. “Alex, you’re sitting by yourself.”

  “Calling me out on the obvious now?” His eyes sparkled in the moonlight and he stood while he motioned for her to sit across from him. As she sat, he asked her, “Can I pour you a glass, Chelsea?”

  After today, she wanted to be friends at least. Friends didn’t hurt each other and once she was in Paris and felt confident again, she’d tell her sister that her beliefs in true love were all wrong. A computer cannot predict desire—which Alex didn’t feel. All of this stirred in her head as she simply said, “Sure. I appreciate you taking hours out of your day to drive me to Paris tomorrow.”

  After the long walk in the vineyard, they should be comfortable as they’d talked for hours. And her unreturned desire shouldn’t matter.

  “So, want to share your plans once you reach Paris?” He retook his seat.

  Fair enough. No more flirting with Alex. Honesty was better than baiting him into finding her attractive. She sipped her wine, which she now understood was young, full-bodied. “I’ll go and meet the Duc. In Avce if I don’t marry by the time I turn 30, then I’m an outcast and not allowed to visit my family and friends ever again.”

  His gaze narrowed but there was empathy in his soulful brown eyes that made her weak in the knees—thankfully she was seated. “That’s a hard law.”

  She traced the base of the wineglass with her finger. “It’s been the law for thousands of years for the nobility.”

  He leaned closer and she could smell his cedar cologne mixed with the warm night air of the vineyard. Goosebumps raced up her arms though she ignored the warmth. “So this Duc, from Avce as well, is close to 30?”

  “Yes.” Truthully, she had no idea what he looked like except from his online profile and her mother’s opinion. Reality hit fast, and cold ice formed in the pit of her stomach. Tomorrow she went back to her normal, where today had been this simple fantasy.

  An older man about her father’s age with long gray hair and blue eyes stopped at their table, his arms crossed. “Alex, take your woman and dance with her.”

  Alex put his cup down and turned toward the gentleman. “Henri, we’re talking.”

  Henri then pushed Alex to stand as he said, “Talking is for after we dance in the moonlight. Don’t forget your heritage, my boy.”

  Alex’s face went red, but he walked over to her side of the table as she put her glass down. He explained, “Chelsea, this is Henri. He’s technically my retired neighbor. Henri has been like a father to me since I arrived on the vineyard.”

  “I see.” Her heart raced faster. In Alex’s arms, she might forget herself and her plans for the future. “Nice to meet you, Henri.”

  Alex then held out his hand and asked with a gleam in his mesmerizing eyes, “Would you like to dance with me, Chelsea?”

  She smoothed a strand of hair behind her ear and nodded, hoping this feeling of belonging faded while they danced. Maybe he’d have two left feet. There was no way she’d be happy on a vineyard. “Okay.”

  He led her to the part of the lawn that everyone else was dancing in. He smelled delicious as his hands wrapped around her waist and they began to sway to the slow song. He closed his eyes so she did the same as she let him lead. His face was near hers and her soft skin was sensitive to his rough, sexy stubble along his jaw. Her lips tingled, and she wished he’d kiss her. His voice was low as he said, “You’ve been wonderful today. I’m sorry I was a jerk earlier.”

  A laugh escaped her, but she didn’t open her eyes—it felt like they danced in a predictable romance movie scene where the lovers were about to kiss for the first time. She didn’t want to be reminded of reality. “You don’t have to apologize. I shouldn’t have used you to stroke my ego.”

  His hand traced her back bringing desire where he touched. “Why do you want to get married so badly to this man you don’t even know?”

  “Besides that law that will get me eventually?” But his question was fair. She opened her eyes but it still felt like they were alone in the world. She stayed close and squeezed his hand in the dance. “My father has an addiction.”

  He pressed his forehead on hers. “Did he sell you for alcohol?”

  A smile grew on her face at how he held her closer, like he’d protect her. The fantasy of being Alex’s sent a thrill down her spine, but no one needed to save her from something underhanded. His protective arms around her felt like he’d storm a castle for her. She swayed with him. “No, and it’s not drinking. He has a gambling problem.”

  He held her tight. “Did he lose a bet and you were the prize?”

  “No. My father loves me.” She met his gaze and again the tingling sensation in her lips grew. She ignored the feeling as she said, “He’d never do that, but he’s racked up a debt and this time my sister can’t bail him out. I don’t want bad people to come after my father because he’s unable to pay.”

  His soulful gaze seemed tortured, as if he took on her pain. She felt his strength in her bones and the thrill rushed through her. “How much is your bride price then that saves your father this time?”

  Two weeks ago, she’d heard her parents talking. She stayed in the doorway without turning the lights on and heard her father’s confession and her mother’s panic. She’d known they couldn’t go to Cassidy, and that she needed to marry fast. Telling Alex right now didn’t feel like a betrayal. She trusted him. “A million Euros.”

  His eyes widened. “I don’t have that kind of money to give, Chelsea.”

  Yeah, she knew. A vineyard wasn’t the place to find a man to marry—while romantic, it required money to make their product. She closed her eyes again and let her head rest against his shoulder. “I would never ask you for it—and I can’t ask my sister. She’s done so much for me and for my family, protecting us all these years. It’s my turn to take control of what I can and do right by them.”

  His warm fingers trailed her back and she felt his touch through her dress and wished they were skin-to-skin. If he kissed her, she’d forget everything. Maybe that explained her erratic behavior with him. She wanted him. “If your father is a gambler, what’s to stop him from getting into another problem?”

  A bucket of ice cold water would have been better than those words. She took her head off his shoulder but continued to dance—her body stiff. “I can’t think that far ahead.” In his arms, she wa
s tempted to forget everything else. She met his sexy gaze with her own and felt a storm of desire grow in her veins. “Tonight, I just want you to hold me in your arms and not let me go.”

  He nodded and twirled her in beat with the song. He let out a sigh. “Chelsea, you’re different than what I thought. I’m sorry your father is sick.”

  And she was sorry she couldn’t forget everything and stay right here, with him, forever. She could imagine herself painting outside, setting up a small store to sell arts and crafts to travelers, and perhaps even help Alex find more people to contract his wine with. She shrugged off the fantasy. “You didn’t bet him.”

  “Neither did you.” As if that reminder was supposed to help? They stayed moving when the song ended waiting until the next began. The people around them changed places but all she saw was him. “If you didn’t have to marry this Duc, what would you do for yourself?”

  Paint. Maybe be brave enough to take Sheena, her old friend from college, up on that offer to show her paintings at local shows in Paris or wherever she wanted. Chelsea stayed in the dance, accepting that her wants were trumped by need. “Doesn’t matter. I have to marry. Thinking about what if doesn’t help.”

  He motioned up to the moon and spun her, so she’d get a better view of the bright orb in the sky. “Under the moonlight you can admit your secret dreams. Would you paint?”

  A smile graced her lips. Nobody before now had ever seen into her heart and the headiness made her laugh. She ignored how her pulse raced. “I’d love to paint but that’s not happening. I had a chance to have my own showing in Paris next month, but I said no.”

  Alex’s expression seemed caring, but that was impossible. How could he? The tone in his voice made her believe in the impossible as he said, “Because of your father?”

  Right. Dancing under the moonlight was but a dream. “Because I am going to take care of my family and not talk about this to my sister.”

  His gaze narrowed. “Why not? If I had a brother or sister-”

  “You don’t get it,” she interrupted. Clarity returned to her mind. “I let Cassidy pay for college and my life until now. She should be done with taking care of any of us. It’s time I step up and do my part. I will ensure my parents are fine and that I’m financially secure without my sister’s money.”

  His calloused hands on hers made her more aware of him, even after her declaration. He leaned close. “I wish I could help you.”

  Her heart sped up. Alex’s presence made her feel…different. She glanced up at him again and stumbled into him. “Just hold me. Tonight, for once, my problems seem far away and don’t matter. Let’s just have that feeling drive.”

  He closed his eyes, going with the flow of the song. The rough of his skin against her made her ache and she went up on her tiptoes.

  Then his lips met hers and she was launched into heaven itself. Maybe it was the moonlight or his strong embrace or just his kiss itself, but something inside her set off and she longed to stay just like this, forever.

  Alex opened the wooden door to the guest bedroom after knocking and hearing no answer. “Chelsea?”

  He had no right to be upset at Chelsea—she wasn’t his and never could be. Today they’d say goodbye and he wouldn’t see her again. Last night had been a dream.

  She stretched her arms and turned, snuggling her cheek into the pillow. The sight of her face under the blankets almost made her seem innocent and angelic, and he held his breath. He needed to shake that off, fast. Right. Well, she needed to get up and start their journey. He kept his voice devoid of any emotion. “Wake up, now, Chelsea. You slept in. It’s time to go.”

  She blinked her eyes open and slowly focused on his face. Then she jumped out of bed in her white sleep shirt and blue flannel shorts. Her pretty blue eyes grew bigger as she realized what he’d said, and she threw off the rest of the blanket. “I’m sorry! I just need a coffee. Give me five minutes.”

  If only it was just driving to Paris that put the burr in his morning. He kept his head low and wished he had a hat to hide his facial expressions, certain he’d give himself away. “Actually, you have a phone call, so take your time. I’ll bring the car around front. The phone is in the kitchen.”

  “I’ll be fast.” She brushed past him to the house phone.

  “If you say so.” He strolled after her like he didn’t care.

  “Hello?” She pressed the speakerphone and walked back to her bedroom, trying to pack and listen at the same time.

  Alex shrugged into a light blue sweater as it was chilly in the morning and put the coffee on for her. He couldn’t help but hear the man on the phone say, “Your mother gave me this number to reach you temporarily. Are you slumming it as a last hurrah?”

  Slumming it? His ears burned. His vineyard had an option for a contract as soon as today or tomorrow that would put his family on the map. And he had the possibility of at least six more contracts soon. All that was left for him to do now was prove that the vineyard could meet the quantity expectations.

  Chelsea snorted. “Stefano, what I do is not your business. Why are you really calling?”

  The man, Stefano, said, “We missed you at the opera. If you were having car trouble, I’d have flown you into Paris on my plane.”

  Fly in and rescue her? He remembered how anxious Chelsea’s sister had been for her own fiancé at the time. He wasn’t shocked that Chelsea’s boyfriend would have a plane too. “It’s fine. I’m coming in today.”

  With him at her side. He curled his hand on the counter and then remembered his purpose. So he filled the pot with water and turned it on to boil as the other guy said, “Or I can come and get you to take you home. You can forget your Astorre Manfredi plans and just marry me.”

  Alex stopped fiddling with the stove.

  Marry? Was this a genuine offer of marriage?

  Chelsea immediately said, “I’m sure whoever you do make Lady Normanni will be lovely, but you must realize we’ll never suit. You don’t listen to one thing I say now.”

  Lady Normanni. Was the other guy a Duc, Earl, Count? Alex shouldn’t care. He scooped coffee into the filter basket. “Chelsea, I don’t listen to most women. Don’t take it personally. You and I both understand the world and how to live.”

  He bristled at Stefano’s dismissive tone. He’d been raised by a strong woman and it was difficult to accept that Chelsea shouldn’t live for herself.

  Chelsea then said, “Thanks, but no thanks. I don’t want to marry you, Stefano.”

  Good. At least she had some sense to say no. If only Chelsea would go after what she wanted, then maybe he wouldn’t want to protect her. He stepped away from the French press and out of the kitchen just as the door to her bedroom flew open.

  Her eyes widened immediately. “Alex! I thought you were outside.”

  His face heated and he dropped his head—now she’d think he was spying on her. “Coffee is almost done.” He walked toward her and the bedroom as he nodded at her. “I’m just getting your bag.”

  She told the man on the phone, “Stefano, I must go.”

  Alex passed her and heard Stefano say, “Is that the man you’re choosing over me?”

  There was no Chelsea and him. The fact her sister had told her that he was her true love shouldn’t float in his mind. It meant nothing to either of them and Chelsea had no interest in living on a vineyard. She’d looked off whenever he discussed the type of vines and had a dreamy, far away expression on her face on the tour yesterday, which meant he’d bored her.

  She told her phone friend, “Nothing has changed. I’ll see you tonight. Goodbye.” Then she hung up the phone and followed him into her room as he picked up her bag to take to the car. She grabbed his wrist. “Alex, wait.”

  Discussing any of this would make the situation far worse. Instead he asked, “Do you have your clothes for today?”

  Her hands covered her chest as her eyes seemed wide as a newborn baby seeing the world for the first time. “Yes.”

/>   He just wanted to forget about the past two days. Once he dropped Chelsea in Paris, he’d return alone and forget all about her. It was the best plan. He tipped his head. “Then I’ll just get this in the car. See you out there.”

  She let his wrist go, but still stared at him with those big blue eyes of hers. “Okay, but Alex, I want to explain.”

  The last thing he needed was to be attracted to Chelsea or care who she ended up marrying. If she married this Stefano, it was none of his business. He kept his head up. “There is nothing to explain, Chelsea. I knew who you were, so let’s just get you to Paris.”

  “Fine.” She hugged her waist. “We’ll talk in the car.”

  Women always wanted to talk. Sometimes it was better to leave things unsaid. He opened the front door of the house and stepped onto his patio. “We don’t have to.”

  She followed him to the door. “We really do. I’ll pack you a coffee too. I just need two minutes to change.”

  And he’d never tell her that she was getting under his skin. He turned away but called out, “Whatever you need, my lady.”

  She closed the door behind him. Alex took his time getting tot his DS Wild Rubis, black, a few years old, but in great condition, and packed her suitcase in the back, securing it so it didn’t shift.

  True to her word, Chelsea came out with a small basket and two coffee mugs. She was now dressed in white pants and a blue cotton top that matched her eyes. She bounced next to him and said, “Alex, I also packed muffins.”

  She held out the basket and gestured toward one of the leftover picnic tables that hadn’t been returned to storage yet. He waved off her basket and said, “I’ll eat it later. I already had my breakfast.”

  She took the basket back and he walked her to the passenger side of the SUV and opened it for her. She passed him and gazed up at him. “About Stefano-”

  “No,” he cut her off, stepped back and shook his head. The last thing he’d ever admit to was how much he wanted to keep Chelsea in his arms. “I don’t want to hear about your boyfriend.”