Matteo, Count of Golchin, was Stefano’s closest friend in Avce. Chelsea understood right then that Astorre must be like them both and probably not a good choice for a husband. She felt her mother’s gaze, but Chelsea kept her focus on Stefano. “So like you and Matteo, Astorre always knows where the best parties are?”
Stefano winked at her. “Did you expect anything different Chelsea?”
His wink was nothing like Alex’s warm one, and where Alex that made her feel alive, she felt nothing with Stefano. She lowered her head and admitted, “Expect? No. Perhaps I hoped.”
Stefano leaned closer and whispered so only she heard him. “Hoped what? That unlimited wealth would make him more like your farmer?”
Oh goodness. She’d forgotten that he’d called the vineyard. She should never have told her parents where she was that night. She felt her body go cold. “Alex is not a farmer.”
Stefano’s laugh grated on her nerves. “He’s not? Your mom said you were stuck on his farm for the night because you drove that car into its grave instead of trading it in.”
Her family never had money and she’d refused to ask her sister for more cash. She’d taken good care of her mother’s old Mercedes and used her graduation presents as a means of keeping it in good shape, but she’d not argue about the accident.
If she chose Alex over the Duc, then her mother and father would only have her sister to depend on. It wasn’t a fair burden. Cassidy did so much, but Chelsea couldn’t say any of that to Stefano. Alex didn’t deserve Stefano’s poor opinion. She lifted her chin. “He runs a vineyard.”
Stefano lifted his glass. “Of no consequence. I’ve never heard of him and I know my wines.”
Bad ones if the one in her hand was anything to judge by. She sat further back in her chair. “Perhaps you don’t know as much as you thought.”
The gleam in his eye was back. “Doubtful.”
This was too much time with Stefano and not enough time with Alex. She jumped out of her chair. “Well, goodbye.”
“Wait.” Stefano lightly grabbed her wrist.
She pulled her hand back. “Yes?”
Stefano stood beside her but kept his voice low as her mother rose from her seat across the room. She met her gaze and then returned her full attention to Stefano. “I can’t wait for you forever, Chelsea. I know your family doesn’t have as much money as I have, so I will make this offer between us. You can name your bride price to pay to your parents, put it in an account of your choice and I will pay handsomely for your hand.”
She hadn’t expected that from Stefano. She sucked in her breath. He was usually so tightfisted when it came to money. She blinked and stared at his empty brown hues that held no emotion pull in them at all. “So, I just name the amount?”
He nodded. “Yes.”
And just like that Stefano could solve all her problems. She swallowed, and heat rose in her cheeks. Alex deserved better than her, because she went ahead and asked, “What if I want to do things like paint or have a showing for my art?”
Stefano snorted as if the question made no sense to him, but then he shrugged. “As long as that remains a hobby then you can do as you like on your own time. The Marchese will be a heavy enough burden and the primary responsibility will be to my family.”
Despite all of the blackness around Stefano’s heart, his family name meant something to his honor. He always hid it, but there was a core of decency another woman might be able reach within his soul. Uncertain, she finally said, “Despite all your decadence and worldly attitudes, in your heart, you are and always were old school.”
Stefano laughed and sank back into his seat. “And you, my dear, have a little too much of that California girl inside your heart, but it’s part of your charm.”
Her mother paced near the door. Chelsea glanced at her. “Mom is waiting for me. Good night.”
Stefano fluttered his fingers in a lazy wave. “See you soon, and next time tell me your price.”
A small part of her brain wanted to say yes but her heart froze at the idea. An image of Alex next to her in bed replayed in her mind. She turned away. “We’ll see, Stefano.”
As she neared the elevator, her mother hit the down button. It arrived right away and they both stepped inside. Once the doors closed, her mother asked, “So, what did he say?”
Right. The original plan had been to marry some unknown man she’d never met because he was rich and titled. Her mother had no idea about Stefano’s offer of marriage and Chelsea wouldn’t tell her. Her cheeks burned at the omission. “I don’t know if I can do this, Mother. I don’t know if I should go after this Duc Astorre Manfredi. He may be the worst of the choices.”
The doors opened, and she saw Alex in the first floor bar, sitting alone. Her heart ached to go to him, but her mother said, “We need money, Chelsea. For your father.”
“I know.”
Her mother took her arm and they walked through the lobby as she said, “When I married your father, my parents told me not to. He was an aristocrat and never worked for a penny. My own father said he had no concept of money and he didn’t think I should wed him, but he let me make my own choice.”
Perhaps her mother might understand then and want her to have a choice. Chelsea felt hope stirring. “So why did you marry Father?”
Her mother slowed down and once again Chelsea stared at Alex’s backside. Part of her wanted to run to him. But she’d never be like her mother and use ‘love’ as her excuse, everytime someone questioned her. “Because he grew up and had more than I could ever dream possible. When we lost everything, I knew one day we’d get it back and you and your sister were my life then. I was and still am in love with your father.”
Yet their estate was the one of the least admired in all of Avce. Granted, Cassidy and her husband were changing that fast, but it shouldn’t just be their job. Her parents and her life wasn’t her sister’s responsibility. Somehow Chelsea needed to give back too, but for now she needed advice. “Mom, I’ve denied growing up in California affecting me, but I think it very much did.” She turned and saw the outline of Alex’s profile. “I see Alex and see a man who can take care of himself. When I see all the nobles in my country, I just get sad.”
Her mother brushed off her comment like it was lint on her shoulder. “But we must do our duty my dear and unlike me, you were born a lady.”
So her honorary status as the second daughter who inherited nothing still meant she could only marry certain people but not others. She let out a sigh and squeezed her mother’s hand. “I swore I’d figure out the money, Mom. I just wish I had other choices.”
They walked out onto the curb as her mother said, “The nobles of Europe get smaller every year. Now let’s go home.”
Leaving without talking to Alex felt wrong. As a car pulled up, Chelsea’s zip in her veins began to race as she said, “No, wait. If I ended up wanting to marry or be with a man who had no money to help you or Father, but I was knee deep in love and deliriously happy, would you accept that for me?”
Her mother stared at her blankly “It’s just as easy to fall in love with a rich man as a poor man. Chelsea, you’re young and beautiful. Choose wisely.”
If there was a feeling called love, Chelsea might be throwing it all away. Her body felt like a stone as her mother walked her to the car. “That didn’t answer my question.”
Her mother scooted into the car that her sister paid for even though they could have walked in their heels, as she said, “I thought I did. Now I’m tired. Wake me when we get home.”
Chelsea took one last look at the hotel and wished she saw Alex through the walls. She could walk back once she settled her mother into bed and see him. If she did, she’d run into his arms and ask him to hold her.
But she slipped in the car and knew as she drove away that she was losing out on possibilities. Helping her family wasn’t just her sister’s job and it was time to be a grown up. Love wasn’t real and wasn’t an option.
Tomor
row she’d tell Alex her decision.
All night Chelsea’s blue eyes haunted Alex’s dreams. He had no idea why she’d come to the hotel again and he’d waited up to see her, like she might come to his room, but it seemed he’d somehow missed her.
Now that it was morning, he rang the door to her family’s house and waited with two coffees and pastries he picked up at a cafe on his way.
Chelsea answered the door, her sleek blonde hair in a simple ponytail that she made elegant—pressed white pants, and her pink blouse matched her pink shoes. He handed her a cup of coffee. “Chelsea, you look beautiful.”
Her smile was brighter than the sun and she grabbed a pink sweater near the door as she said, “Thanks. You look awake and aware for a guy who was up late, drinking.”
The time at the bar had been about helping her, but if her father kept his word she didn’t know that. It was better she never knew and that her dad got help. “I had business to finish.”
She walked out on the front porch and closed the door. “Did you?”
“Yes.” He peeked at her door. Was she not going to invite him in to meet her family?
She walked onto the pathway. “Good to hear. Let’s go.”
Curious, but then not everyone lived on a vineyard or grew up in a café where family and friends mingled. His lips met hers and an awareness of her grew in his skin, but she ended the kiss and her face blushed. Perhaps she didn’t want to kiss in front of her family, who might watch from a dark window.
He followed her down the path. “Wait. Is your family even up?”
She held the coffee cup to the side of her face like it kept her warm as she shook her head. “No. My family is all still fast asleep and will be probably till noon. Last night was a late night for everyone. And the baby is fussy.”
Standing in Paris on a spring morning did not guarantee warmth. He offered his hand while they walked toward the Eiffel Tower. “Why did you come to my hotel with your mom?”
She didn’t say anything for so long he wondered if she hadn’t heard him. She sipped her coffee and they made it to the Eiffel Tower. After he bought the tickets, they went over and had no wait for the elevator. Benefit of being so early he guessed. As the doors closed, she said, “Mom wanted me to ask Stefano a question for her.”
They rode up, passing the black bars as he asked, “What question?”
She took another sip of her coffee and pressed her lips together. Once she swallowed and the doors opened, they disembarked onto the platform and she said with a red tinge to her cheeks, “She doesn’t want me to give up on chasing after the Duc Astorre Manfredi even though I told her it wasn’t smart. She wanted information for herself.”
His tightened his grip on the coffee cup until the cardboard cracked.
He’d thought she was going to go home with him today and that she wanted to take her chance with him. His gaze narrowed as they walked to a corner to be alone, overlooking the Seine. “Is she going to go after him and his money?”
She shook her head but didn’t meet his gaze. “Don’t be silly. My mother is married to my father and claims she loves him still.”
Now he truly didn’t understand. He offered her a pastry, suddenly not very hungry. “Then why does she care if you said he was a non-issue?”
She squeezed the powdered sugared pastry in her hand and barely glanced at him. Her slender body tensed. “Alex, the problem is that you’re not rich and I’ve never had a job in my life. I was told I was to marry money and that’s all they want from me.”
He hadn’t told her about his contract, not that he would now. His skin prickled. Was she breaking up with him already? His mind raced with the question, but to clarify he asked, “So, when you told them you were coming home with me, there was a problem?”
She closed her eyes, like she couldn’t look at him and lowered her head. “I didn’t. I can’t. If I did, I’d prove I was just as irresponsible as everyone always said I was. I was to bring in money for the family and you can’t do that for me.”
Wow. Money won. He should have known. His spine stiffened, but he needed to hear how much of a fool he’d been. “So what are you going to do?”
She opened her watering eyes. “I have to marry a rich man.”
And they were right back to where they started. He’d known better than to trust her. His heart break was his own doing, but he reached out to touch her and hold her hand—he couldn’t stop himself. “Chelsea, I don’t know how your family stole your confidence in yourself. Did you ever think you could work for a living, like your sister?”
Her eyes widened in shock and her hand flew to her heart. “Like my sister?” Her chin trembled. “You don’t know my sister or my family.”
He should have mentioned this sooner. Now that he saw clearly what happened, he took a deep breath and said, “I met your sister and her fiancé last year. I took a bullet protecting her actually, so yeah I know her, and she struck me as someone with a head on her shoulders. I don’t get why you can’t be more like her.”
“That scar was to help Cassidy?” Her face went white and she stepped away from him. A second later, she crossed her arms and shook her head. “We don’t know each other at all. I can never be like Cassidy. I’m not as smart as she is and never will be.”
Smart? Chelsea sold herself cheaper than she should, but he couldn’t change her mind, even if he wanted. However, even with that knowledge, he gave it a shot. “It’s not about brains. It’s about confidence that you can run your own life.”
She threw away the paper coffee cup. “I have choices, but you don’t like the choice that I made, to help my family, over you.”
Getting dumped wasn’t the worst thing in the world. He’d been there before. Heck, he’d survived his almost bride not walking down the aisle. This conversation was nothing. However if Chelsea just saw how she was making a huge mistake, they had a chance. He had money and would give it to her. He started, “Because you don’t have to-”
She raised her hand toward him, palm out and he stopped speaking. She then met his gaze. “You want the impossible from me. I can’t be who you want and I’m sorry I let you and myself think about the impossibility.”
He crossed his arms. This was it. His heart felt squeezed in his chest and his gut knotted. “So that’s it then.”
She nodded. “I guess so.”
He walked toward the elevator, ignoring the magnificent sunrise that blossomed in the east that made all of Paris look white and clean and beautiful. Chelsea followed behind him with her head down. He turned and stared at her.
If only she believed in them, but he couldn’t say that. He couldn’t tell her that she ripped out his heart or that he’d somehow fallen in love with her. She didn’t care. “I’ll take you home.”
They walked into the elevator together, and they were alone. She stayed on the other side. “You don’t have to. I can get home on my own.”
As the elevator descended, Alex gritted his teetch and his heart race. He needed to ask another question, not because he didn’t know the answer, but he needed to hear her say it. He needed the proof he was right and should have protected his heart. He kept his voice low. “Chelsea, would this conversation be different if I had money to help you and your family?”
Her gaze shot up. “I don’t discuss improbable speculations Alex.”
Clearly, she didn’t care about him like he cared. As the elevator doors opened, he said, “You were more like Monique than I realized.”
She walked out of the elevator and he waited, but then she turned and flipped her hair. “What? I’m nothing like her.”
There were people in line to go up and watch the sunrise. He stepped out of their way, but Chelsea stood right where she was. As the people passed, Alex said, “She chose money and an easy life over me too. I need to get a better filter, so this doesn’t happen to me again.”
Chelsea trembled, and her eyes welled. “That’s not what I’m doing, Alex.”
Yes, it was, bu
t he’d not argue. She wasn’t into him enough to take a chance. She intended to marry for money. He’d been an idiot. He took a step to leave, but then stopped as he glanced at the cabs. He’d pay for her to get home safe. “If you say so. Are you sure you don’t need a ride?”
She walked in the direction they came from and lifted her arm. “No. Goodbye Alex.”
“Goodbye, Chelsea.”
Once he made it back to his car, he’d drive back to the vineyard and never think about Chelsea Bright again. Falling in love with her had been the biggest mistake of his life.
For hours, she thought about Alex’s brown eyes. She couldn’t let the image go. This morning he’d been so wonderful, and his kiss still tingled on her lips.
But she’d pushed him away, and she was sick to her stomach.
Her heart felt like it shrunk in her chest and hardly worked. A coldness enveloped her, and she tried to block Alex’s face from her mind.
It didn’t work. His soulful brown eyes had filled with hurt when she’d broken up with him. The sense of nausea rose to her throat.
Her skin felt clammy as she exited the shower in her effort to forget her morning and how she’d walked away from Alex.
She dressed in a gray top that covered her to her neck and matching gray pants as she glanced out the window and realized it was about to rain in Paris.
Perfect. The weather matched her mood. Her heart remained heavy, but outside her door she heard her family start to wake up. She sat on her bed, hugged her waist, and dialed a number. A few seconds later, she heard a familiar, “Hello.”
Her vocal chords locked, but she looked at her foot and closed her eyes. She tried again. “Stefano.”
“You’re calling early,” he said.
It was already noon, but she knew Stefano kept late nights. She needed to marry for money, and his offer was the best she had. She took a deep breath. “Can you meet me for lunch? I want to talk numbers.”
He made a noise that sounded like a no, but then said, “How about an early dinner? I’ll pick you up.”
Forbidden Monsieur: Princes of Avce Page 10