‘Hannah, it’s time to wake up.’
Her eyes drowsily opened. For a moment she gave him a contented smile, her eyes sparkling with a sexy affection that had him lower his hand from her shoulder for fear of lowering his mouth to her soft lips.
Her smile faded at his movement and she bolted upright in the bed, clasping the sheet to herself. ‘What time is it?’
‘It’s close to ten o’clock.’
Her eyes widened. ‘I didn’t mean to sleep in for so long.’
‘Yesterday was a long day.’ He paused, cleared his throat, the remembrance of their disturbed sleep adding a husky note to his voice. ‘You needed to rest.’
She dipped her head for a moment, biting her lip, and then looked back at him, the heat in her eyes having him shift on the mattress as desire surged through him.
In need of a distraction, he lifted the teacup and handed it to her. She yanked the sheet even higher against her chest and considered the cup of tea before her gaze shifted back to him. He winced at the sadness in her eyes.
But then her expression hardened. He cursed himself for wincing. He was about to make an excuse but, with a firm shake of her head, Hannah refused the tea and, yanking the sheet further up against herself, she said, ‘I should go for a shower and get dressed.’
Placing the teacup back on the nightstand, thrown by the coolness in her voice, her desire to get away, he cleared his throat and said, ‘About earlier—’
She interrupted him with a shove against his back, forcing him to stand. Swinging herself out of the bed, she wrapped the sheet around herself. Waddling awkwardly across the room, she said, ‘There’s really no need for us to talk about earlier, is there?’ and gathered up her dress and shoes from where she’d placed them on a bedroom chair last night.
He watched her shuffle towards the door, yanking up the falling sheet time and time again. Her urgency, her insistence on acting all cool and calm, irrationally irritated him. And then that irritation disappeared to be replaced with an uneasy thought that maybe their lovemaking really didn’t mean as much to her as he’d thought it did. Her words on Thursday night sounded in his brain. ‘I’m over you, Laurent. I’ve moved on. Don’t overinflate your importance in my life.’
Following her, he called out, ‘You forgot these.’
He tried to hide his amusement at her horrified expression when she spotted her lace knickers hanging from his index finger. She grabbed them from him and in the process the sheet dropped to expose a gorgeously erect dusky pink nipple. She tugged up the sheet furiously.
Dieu! He wanted to pull that bloody sheet away. Make love to her. Thick, dangerous desire was pumping through him. He stepped back. ‘Wait, I’ll give you my bathrobe to wear.’ Seeing her reach for the door handle, he added, ‘I don’t want you giving my housekeeper, Marion, a heart attack by having your sheet fall down as you walk back to your room. Her heart gives her enough trouble as it is.’
In the bathroom he removed his bathrobe from the hook. Back out in the bedroom he held it out for her to put on. She dumped the items in her hands onto the floor, turning her back to him as she placed her hands into the robe sleeves. The sheet fell slowly and seductively to the floor. She tied the belt of the robe with a yank and, turning around, she lifted her own items and the sheet, which she threw in his direction. ‘Yours, I believe.’
He caught the sheet, feeling more in control now that her initial icy coolness had been replaced by an air of defiance. Gesturing to the bathrobe, the arms hanging well below her fingertips, the white material swamping her frame, he shook his head. ‘It’s much too big for you, and I’m detecting a certain lack of gratitude in me gifting it to you.’
She eyed him cautiously. In London, they used to tease each other this way. Spring surprises on one another.
He stepped closer. ‘In fact I’m having second thoughts about letting you wear it.’
Her eyebrows shot upwards. And then she was making a dash for the door.
He chased after her and wrapped his arm around her waist and lifted her off the ground.
‘Laurent Bonneval, you put me down, you brute.’
He laughed and could feel her body jerk with silent laughter too.
And then rather primly she said, ‘Yesterday you said you needed to work today. Please don’t delay heading into the office on my account.’
He lowered her down and turned her around to face him. ‘My father was right when he said as your host I should ensure that you are looked after. I’ve decided not to go into work today.’
She looked at him with surprise. ‘Oh.’
He opened the bedroom door. ‘Downstairs is in chaos thanks to the clean-up after yesterday. I have a beach house in Royan—we can go there to escape the noise. Marion is packing a picnic for us to take.’
‘But my flight is at seven this evening. Do we have time?’
He nodded. ‘I’ll drop you straight to the airport from Royan. So bring your suitcase.’
She eyed him curiously for a moment and then with a shrug she went to pass him, but out in the corridor she turned to him. ‘I want to go and see Lara before we leave for Royan. I’d like to say goodbye to her.’
‘I’ll ring ahead and let them know we’ll call in.’
‘You said yesterday that you were going to collect Bleu from Phillippe today on your way into work.’
‘I’ll also ring Phillippe and ask him to keep Bleu until this evening.’
She shook her head. ‘No. He has been away from you for too long already. Let’s collect him on the way to Royan. We can take him for a walk on the beach.’
Bleu adored the beach. And Laurent couldn’t wait to see him again. But despite the determined tilt of Hannah’s chin as she waited for his response the quiver in her voice told him how much of an effort it would all take. ‘I’ll collect him later this evening.’
Tugging the belt of the robe tighter, she grimaced and said quietly, ‘I need to get over my fear of dogs. It’s gone on for far too long.’ Her bare feet on the marble floor of the hallway shifted and her gaze moved to a point beyond his shoulder. ‘I’d like to try to spend time with Bleu...knowing that you are there.’
Without stopping to think, Laurent moved to her. Touched his hand against the soft white cotton of her bathrobe. ‘In his size Bleu is intimidating, but he really is a marshmallow. My vet believes he was mistreated by his previous owner. Bleu and I have spent a lot of time with a dog trainer, training him to respond to my commands. All he wants is love and affection.’
She gave a wry chuckle. ‘That sounds familiar.’
An awkward silence settled between them. Hannah’s cheeks reddened. She cleared her throat, gave him a hesitant but teasing smile. ‘I’ll blame you, though, if Bleu tries to eat me.’
Walking back to the nightstand, he picked up the teacup and plate of food and handed them to her. ‘Have something to eat and drink. We’ll leave to collect Bleu as soon as you are ready so that we can make the most of the day at Royan.’ He laughed lightly and added, ‘And don’t worry, if Bleu strays too close to you, I’ll do my best musketeer impression and will protect you.’
She laughed at that. ‘I’d give anything to see you wearing tights and a floppy hat while wielding a sword.’ Then, sobering, she looked him directly in the eye. ‘But I can protect myself. I don’t need you.’
And walked away.
CHAPTER EIGHT
SHUTTING THE DOOR to her bedroom, Lara leant against it with a sigh and asked, ‘What’s up?’
Taking in Lara’s wedding gown, hanging perfectly on a white satin clothes hanger on the door of the wardrobe, Hannah said, ‘I’m guessing that you didn’t drag me upstairs after all in order to hang your dress properly.’
Dropping down onto the bed, Lara answered, ‘Obviously. You’re jumpy and clearly upset. What’s up?’
Running her hand
over the delicate lace of Lara’s wedding dress, Hannah shrugged, swallowing down the temptation to tell Lara the awful truth that in sleeping with Laurent she’d realised that she was still in love with him. ‘I guess it’s post-wedding blues. I hate the thought of going back to work tomorrow.’ Turning, she gave Lara a smile. ‘And I’m going to miss you while you are away on honeymoon.’
Lara shook her head and sighed. ‘Guess what? I’m not buying any of that.’
Hannah rolled her eyes, trying to act nonplussed when in truth an ache was gripping her throat. Why did Lara have to be so perceptive?
For a moment she considered changing the subject but knew that Lara deserved the truth, even if she was going to go crazy about it. ‘I spent the night with Laurent.’
‘Hannah!’
Hannah held her hands up in admission. ‘I know. But don’t freak out about it. We both know that it was straightforward, uncomplicated sex.’
Lara covered her face with her hands, shaking her head in despair before saying, ‘Oh, Hannah, why? Why allow yourself to get hurt again?’
Hating Lara’s disappointment in her, hating just how vulnerable she felt, Hannah bit back. ‘Why don’t you believe me when I say I’m over him? That I have my own plans and dreams to follow?’
Anger flared in Lara’s eyes. ‘Because I see the way that you look at him.’
Trying not to blush or give in to the frustrated tears threatening at the backs of her eyes, Hannah snorted. ‘He’s a good-looking man. Of course I look at him.’
Lara stood. For long seconds she looked at Hannah sadly. ‘You’re still in love with him, aren’t you?’
‘Do we really need to talk about this now? We should be talking about yesterday.’ Forcing herself to give Lara a cheeky smile, she asked, ‘So how’s married life, Mrs Bonneval?’
Lara inhaled an impatient breath. ‘Are you going to tell him about how you feel?’
‘He doesn’t want a relationship. I’m cool with that.’
Moving to the bedroom window, Lara looked out of it. Joining her, Hannah saw that she was studying Laurent and François, who were sitting at the garden table next to the river. Lara shook her head. ‘I want to go down and throttle him. He shouldn’t have slept with you.’
‘Don’t blame him. It was me who initiated it—you could say that I slept with him.’
Eyes wide, Lara turned and asked in an appalled voice, ‘Why on earth did you do that?’
Hannah searched for some glib reply, but as she began to speak her voice cracked and to her horror a fat tear spilled down her cheek. Knowing her pretence was now of no use, she answered, ‘Because I’m lonely...because I miss him.’
With a sigh, Lara pulled her into a hug. Then, grabbing a tissue from the dressing table, she wiped Hannah’s tears and asked quietly, ‘What are you going to do?’
With a wry laugh, Hannah answered, ‘Get through today. Continue to pretend I have no feelings for him other than that he’s a friend of sorts. And after today, go and forge a new life for myself.’
* * *
Later that morning, above the hum of the air conditioning, Bleu’s snoring reverberated around Laurent’s four-by-four like low rumbling thunder.
‘Does he always snore like that?’
Slowing at a junction, Laurent glanced over at her. ‘I think snoring is cute.’
Hannah stared at him, confused by the amusement playing out in his expression as he signalled to the right and pulled out into the heavy traffic when a gap became available. Conscious that Lara had so easily seen through her pretence, and determined not to allow Laurent to see that her heart was a mangled mess, she attempted to adopt a congenial tone. ‘He certainly was happy to see you.’ Folding her arms, she added, ‘But I thought you said that he was well trained.’
Laurent gave a guilty chuckle. ‘Usually he follows my commands.’
Reaching forward to lower the air conditioning, Hannah threw him a teasing look. ‘I was just glad I was in the safety of the car when he bounded towards you. I was certain he was going to knock you over.’
He grimaced at that. ‘He’ll be calmer when we get to the beach house, I promise.’ Then, his gaze meeting hers for a moment, he added, ‘You seem to be coping with having him in the car. That’s an incredible step forward for you.’
Her heart melted at the admiration and care in his voice. But she knew that she needed to maintain the nonchalance and teasing banter she had been hiding behind all day in a bid to harden herself against his effect, his ability to tear out her heart and leave her confused and vulnerable and so incredibly lonely for him even though he was sitting right next to her. How could they be so close, both physically and on a surface emotional level, but yet be so distant from one another? She hated all of this pretence and dishonesty. It wasn’t who she was. Or at least trying to be. But what other option did she have? She could hardly casually drop into their conversation that she was in love with him.
Instead she turned and eyed the rear of the car where Bleu was lying in the back compartment and, thanks to her frayed nerves, gave an almost hysterical laugh. ‘Coping. Are you kidding me? I’m a bag of nerves. The only reason I’m not tempted to jump out of the car is because there’s a metal grid separating him from me.’
She jumped when Laurent’s hand came to rest on the side of the seat, his fingers almost touching her thigh. His gaze remaining fixed on the heavy flow of traffic ahead of them, he said quietly, ‘We’re almost at the beach house. When we get there I’ll show you into the house and then take Bleu out. You don’t have to spend time with him.’
A lump formed in her throat at the understanding in his voice. She swallowed hard, knowing that she needed to toughen up, not only with Bleu but also in how she allowed his master to get to her. ‘No, I meant it when I said I wanted to spend time with him.’
Laurent glanced at her. ‘Are you sure?’
‘I’m tired of having mini panic attacks every time I jog through Richmond Park and a dog comes near me. Last week, I actually screamed when I almost tripped over a dog no bigger than a hamster who came flying out of the high grass. He was being walked by two teenage girls who clearly thought I was crazy and ended up doubled over laughing at me.’
Laurent cleared his throat, clearly trying not to laugh at the image she’d painted. ‘Okay, I can see why you want to deal with your fear.’
Turning her attention back to the passing scenery, she smiled when a golden beach and glistening sea appeared on the horizon. ‘What an incredible beach. How long is it?’
‘About two kilometres. Sirocco is moored here in Royan.’ Pointing towards the far end of the beach, he added, ‘You can see the marina in the distance.’
Hannah blinked away all the threatening memories that came at the mention of his yacht and the days they had spent on the Solent. ‘Do you get out on Sirocco often?’
‘Not as often as I’d like to. Work has been crazy since I got back here.’
‘What about the beach house?’
He glanced at her and shrugged. ‘Even less.’
‘Maybe if your dad had a role in the business, even for a few hours every week, it might take the pressure off you.’ Thinking about Lara’s pregnancy, she added, ‘Perhaps in time François might be interested in joining the business too. I’m guessing his environmental background could be of huge benefit.’
Laurent slowed and pulled off the main road into a residential street. Halfway down the street he pulled into a driveway and used a remote control to open grey panelled wooden gates. ‘It’s a possibility...about François. Up until now he hasn’t been interested in working in the company, but his circumstances are changing.’ Driving through the gates, he added wryly, ‘However, I’m really not convinced about my father permanently getting involved in the business again.’
A tall cypress tree towered over the front lawn of the Malibu-style, sing
le-storey beach house. Beyond the house Hannah caught a glimpse of the vast expanse of the beach. ‘What a location.’ Turning as Laurent switched off the engine, she asked, ‘Did you inherit this house too?’
‘No. I bought it a few years back.’
She tried to hide her surprise and hurt and said with a forced smile, ‘You never mentioned that you owned a property here when we were together.’
From the rear of the vehicle, Bleu stirred, his movements rocking the car. Hannah glanced back to see him looking with adoration in Laurent’s direction.
Opening the door of the car, Laurent answered, ‘It didn’t seem important at the time.’
‘No, I don’t suppose it did.’
About to get out of the car, he paused and turned back in her direction. ‘This is my first time visiting the house in over five years. Only the second time since I bought it.’
Her mouth dropped open. ‘Seriously?’
‘It was once my family’s summer home. My parents sold it over fifteen years ago. I bought it back from the family who bought it from them.’
‘But why have you never used it?’
‘We spent our summers here as children. Both I and François were disappointed when my parents sold it. They said at the time that they sold it because we were insisting on spending our summers in Paris. I always felt guilty about that. Five years ago, when I told my mother that I had purchased the beach house, she told me the truth about why they had sold it.’
Given the anger and pain in his expression, Hannah asked quietly, ‘Which was?’
‘Apparently it was here that my father lived with his mistress when he left home.’
Second Chance with the Best Man Page 11