Summer Of My Secret Angel

by Anna Katmore

  Julian’s door still stood open, but there was no sign of him outside. I took a deep breath, steeling my nerves for the coming dinner with family, including the dragon, then turned my back on the enchanting garden and headed for the door. As I pulled it open, I shrieked. Julian’s fist came diving for my forehead.

  “Whoa.” He jerked his hand back just before he’d have bashed me flat on the ground. Shock or astonishment, I couldn’t tell which, filled his face. Then his gaze dropped and lingered on my bare legs.

  “Well, yeah, it’s um…” Grimacing, I tried to tug my shorts and cover my legs. And failed miserably. “Short,” I said, as if he couldn’t see that.

  He cleared his throat. “At least it doesn’t leave much room to rip holes into it.”

  “Well if it isn’t Prince Charming speaking.”

  That made him laugh. The sound ripped down the walls I had built around myself.

  “Come on, Cinderella.” He bowed. “The banquet is waiting.”

  “We better hurry before the clock strikes twelve and I turn into a pumpkin again.” I loped down the stairs after him, grinning like a loon.

  UNEXPECTED KINDNESS

  A WARM, SPICY smell clung to the air in the kitchen and made my mouth water. Ignoring my mother’s attempts to greet me while she helped Marie with dinner, I slid into the corner seat. So the dragon had come out of her hole again. Admittedly, she looked a good deal better than a few hours before. But she got no more than a cold glare from me.

  Julian stood behind one of the two high-back oak chairs, observing the drama going on. He shook his head, pulled the chair out, and sat down.

  When Albert sauntered through the door, Marie ushered my mother to join the rest of us at the table. With six empty seats, the dragon chose the one right next to me. I rolled my eyes, turned and slid out. Disapproval reflected in the look Julian gave me. As I lowered into the chair next to him, his mouth opened. But before he could say one word, my mother cleared her throat a tad too loud to pass as a negligible cough. He drew in a deep breath and sighed.

  Why the hell did he care about how I reacted to my mother? I sent him a dark glare, but for the moment, he ignored me.

  Albert found a place at the head of the table, and Marie dished chicken with veggies onto his plate first. The smell of home-cooked food wafted from the serving dishes and promised a succulent meal. My stomach rumbled. I hoped no one heard it. Hastily, I gulped down some water from my glass then pierced a chopped carrot with my fork.

  “Do you like your room?” Albert shoved a piece of bread into his mouth, his gaze focused on me.

  I nodded, chewing on my chicken.

  “The furniture might not match your taste,” he continued, pouring himself a glass of wine. “Marie’s teenage bedroom stuff must be stored somewhere in the cellar. We can change it if you like.”

  His offer surprised me, made me uncomfortable even. I frowned. Would he want a reward for his friendliness? In my almost eighteen years, only Quinn had ever helped me without expecting anything in return.

  “That won’t be necessary. I’ll only be here for six weeks.” The edge to my voice made me feel bad. In fact, I wouldn’t want a single piece in the beautiful room changed for anything. It was perfect. And I’d only be staying for a single night, anyway.

  Marie stroked her husband’s arm. “See, I told you she likes the room.”

  When I met her gaze, her mouth curled into that sweet smile, which punched through my guard.

  Argh.

  My attention focused on the plate in front of me. I didn’t want them to see how much Marie’s care pleased me.

  “Did you find Valentine and Henri in the vineyards?” she said.

  Julian was the one to reply. “Yep.”

  “And will they come in later to meet Jona?”

  “Actually, I asked them not to come until tomorrow. I didn’t want to overwhelm Jona with new faces on her first day.” His face remained expressionless as he glanced my way.

  About to take a bite of the skewered asparagus on my fork, I set the silverware down. A hollow feeling spread in my belly. I didn’t understand why he was being so nice after his earlier bantering.

  “That was very thoughtful of you.” Marie offered second helpings to Julian and Albert.

  “Yes, very thoughtful indeed.” Inwardly, I cringed at my own cynical words, when all I really wanted to say was thank you. I had no idea who this Valentine and Henri were, or why I was to meet them, but Marie and Albert were enough strangers to deal with for one day.

  After dinner, the family moved to the parlor. Only Marie remained in the kitchen, and I stayed to help her tidy up the place.

  “Just leave the cleaning to me,” she said and took the plates out of my hands. “Why don’t you go and take a drink with your mother and the others?”

  “Uh, no.” I had avoided my mother’s gaze so well during the meal, I didn’t want to ruin the evening with being shoved into a room together with her for any length of time.

  My aunt took my face between her warm hands. “I understand it has been a long day for you. Get some rest. Tomorrow I will show you the vineyards.” She kissed my forehead so quickly that I had no time to react other than close my eyes. “Sleep well, chérie.”

  Shock and confusion overpowered the comfort that her jasmine perfume and warm lips tried to raise inside me. My eyes blinked furiously as I concentrated on my boots. Spinning on my heels, I strode out of the kitchen. Then I stopped. Damn, I’d forgotten to say goodnight.

  I rubbed the spot on my brow where Marie’s lips had brushed against my skin. So I didn’t bid them goodnight, big deal. They were not family. Marie and Albert were my jailers. No need to show them any pleasantries. Especially, when I wasn’t happy in their presence.

  Or was I?

  Damn, what did they do to me? The French climate must have gotten into my head. I should have told Marie off for that unexpected caress and warned her never to kiss me again. The door to my room banged shut behind me, keeping out everyone—and those unwanted emotions.

  In the fading light, I rummaged through my suitcase and found my notepad and a pen. I settled with the writing tools on the cloud-soft bed and piled the pillows behind my back.

  As night fell, I filled eight pages with denials of my first impressions of this place and the people living here. By the time I came to ramble on about my aunt’s kiss, the room had become too dark to distinguish the blue words from the white of the paper.

  I lowered the pen and scanned the darkened room for a moment. Bile rose in my throat. I thought of this marvelous place and how I couldn’t dare to stay.

  It was like granting a hungry and freezing child a glimpse of a stuffed turkey through a window at Christmas. Only, I wasn’t outside peeking through the glass. I sat inside the warm house, tasted a delicious meal. With two fingers, I massaged the spot between my eyes. The longer I stayed here, the harder it would be to leave.

  The hoot of an owl carried through the open French door. A soft wind rustled the trees. The wood of the balcony creaked under someone’s feet.

  Julian.

  My chest constricted, and I held my breath for an uncomfortable half-minute, straining to hear whether he’d come toward my room. But he wouldn’t be so bold. With no light in my room, he must think I’d fallen asleep.

  Apart from the wind and animals outside, the night remained silent. Tossing my notepad on the mattress, I rolled out of bed and sneaked to the door leading to the balcony. Carefully, I leaned only my head outside to peek around the corner.

  Palms braced on the wood railing on his side of the balcony, Julian stared down at the vineyards. The faint shine of light from his room tinted his silhouette in soft gold. He hung his head, his shoulder blades flexing underneath his shirt. An invisible weight seemed to press down on his shoulders.

  One had to be blind not to notice it was my mother’s health that concerned him. The image of Quinn ruffling my hair when I was down or in trouble haunted me for a secon
d. Maybe Julian needed a little comfort himself, and I could be the one offering it. God forbid, no ruffling, of course.

  Teeth clenched, I fought against this urge. The story about him only being Charlene’s caretaker struck me as a masquerade. Even if everyone else fell for it, I wouldn’t.

  What wouldn’t I have given to find out about their uncommon relationship… Anything—but my pride. No way would I ask him about the matter. Leaning against the doorframe, I studied him silently.

  “Can’t you sleep?” His words, little more than a whisper, drifted to me.

  My heart thudded in my ribcage, shocked he’d caught me staring at him. “I’m not tired.” The answer came quick, yet my voice sounded like a stranger’s in the dark.

  “Come out, it’s beautiful up here at night.”

  “Mm-mm.” I shook my head.

  For a brief moment, his eyes narrowed to slits. “You’re scared.” He said it with such conviction I wondered if he felt personally insulted by my refusal. Pushing away from the railing, he shoved his hands into his pockets and ambled toward me. “Hopefully, it’s the height of the balcony that makes you nervous and not me.”

  “Why would you make me nervous?” The words shook slightly in my throat. I shifted against the doorframe as he drew nearer.

  He halted before my room and leaned with his backside against the railing. “Why indeed?”

  For an immeasurable moment, we stared into each other’s eyes. If I hadn’t known better I would have thought he actually wanted me to be nervous around him. Silly idea. I shoved it aside, clearing my throat. “Who are the two people Marie wants me to meet?”

  “Valentine and Henri? They’re nice people.” Hands planted on the railing at either side of his hips, he hoisted himself up onto the edge.

  “No, don’t!” My warning echoed across the field as I let go of the doorframe and reached out in a helpless attempt to stop him from falling backwards over the balustrade. Yet fear kept my feet rooted to the floor inside.

  His arms still braced against the wood, Julian cocked his head while one of his brows arched up. Not bothered by my concern, he eased onto the insecure railing, his gray sneakers dangling two feet above the floorboards.

  His gaze mocked me like it suggested I come out of my room and make him get off the railing.

  Oh, for the sake of my frazzled nerves, just get down! I tamped down the anger over his ignorance and kept to the safety of my room.

  He cast me an amused glance from under his lashes then continued as though nothing had happened. “Henri and Valentine Dupres live down the road. They’re an elderly couple working for your aunt and uncle in the yards. You will meet them tomorrow morning.”

  At his words, pictures of tonight’s dinner rose before my eyes. Maybe now was the time to thank him for his concern, even though I cringed at the thought of letting him know how I really felt. I coughed slightly, tilting my head so the curtain muffled my voice. “It was actually kind of you to delay their introduction until tomorrow.”

  “Sorry, what did you say?” He smirked, and for an instant I considered tossing a pillow at him. But that might have caused him to fall backward off the balcony. I didn’t want to take the responsibility in case he broke his neck.

  “Thank you,” I said more clearly, though through gritted teeth.

  His teasing grin disappeared. “You are very welcome, Jona.” His soft purr gave me chills. “Earlier, you seemed surprised I would care about you. Why was that?”

  His serious words touched the spot of my mind responsible for lying or telling the truth.

  “I thought you didn’t like me.” My croak clearly betrayed my unease. I dropped my gaze to the gaps between the boards of the balcony floor.

  “You do your best to pretend not to like me either.” His soft, smooth tone reminded me of sand running through an hourglass. “And yet you’re worried I might fall off the balcony and get hurt.”

  “Hey, buddy, who says I’m pretending?” Looking up at his face, I found something in his stare that I couldn’t quite place. It reminded me of Rottweiler Rusty when he’d ogled a bone.

  My mouth was dry, a cloud of pleasant warmth expanded in my chest. A couple of seconds later, Julian slid down from the railing. A hundred tense muscles in my body relaxed, and a breath I didn’t know I was holding whizzed from my lungs.

  Damn him for making his point clear.

  “Sleep tight, Jona,” he said through a lopsided smile as he headed back to his side of the balcony.

  “Goodnight,” I whispered, hardly audible to myself.

  Julian chuckled then disappeared through the floating curtains.

  I woke snuggled in a sea of softness. The faint light of a breaking morning fell through the window above my bed. I yawned, my body completely relaxed. Something I’d never experienced before.

  Still muzzy from sleep, I blinked, taking in the features of the room. Only then did I remember where I was. Alarm shot through me. Stupefying. How could I’ve slept so peacefully with my mother resting only one story below?

  The floor felt cold against my bare feet as I got out of bed and shuffled into the bathroom. Warm water washed away the last bit of sleep from my eyes. In the mirror, I caught the face of an indecisive child. Chocolate or candy? Dream castle or freedom? If I wanted to leave, then now would be the perfect moment.

  Yesterday, Marie had made me a fantastic dinner, and I had slept through the night on a bed of clouds. I’d tasted heaven, now I needed to go before I grew used to the comfort and wouldn’t be able to part from it.

  “The vineyard,” the girl in the mirror whispered, her tone a suggestive tease. I couldn’t leave before taking a walk through the vineyard. Just once, I promised myself. Tonight I’d certainly be off on my way back to England.

  Five o’clock in the morning seemed a bit early to wander downstairs and wait for Marie to get up and show me the vineyards. I settled on the bed, tucked my feet under the blanket, and leaned on the windowsill. Chin resting in the crook of my folded arm, I gazed out on the vinery and mused about the breaking day.

  The first and only day of my slave work.

  What would my uncle expect me to do in the yards? I could hardly take a watering can and wet the entire field. It would take five hundred years or more.

  Back straight, I narrowed my eyes to scan the little grapes on the bushes. Mid-August. They should still be too small for harvest. So, what else awaited me today?

  With a little shock of anticipation, I couldn’t wait to get out to the vine and do whatever tasks my aunt and uncle ordered me to do.

  A shiver rattled my teeth as the morning wind blew around me. The blanket pulled up to my neck, I wrapped myself in it like a hotdog. The covers still bore the warmth from last night. I curled against the headboard and closed my eyes only for a second longer than a blink. But soon sleep sneaked up on me, and I dozed off.

  Next time I woke, strong sunrays warmed my face and the chirping of a bunch of birds carried to me. A feather brushed the skin from my brow down to the tip of my nose. The purr of a happy cat pushed up my throat as the stroking continued. I blinked against the warm sun. Julian’s blue eyes were level with mine.

  My mind still drifting from chasing a sparrow in the vineyard, I wondered how Julian had found his way into my dreams. We gazed at each other. No one spoke in this unreal moment.

  The corners of his lips twitched up and mine followed suit. What I had mistaken for a feather before was in fact a wisp of my hair caught between his fingers. He brushed down my nose one last time, then let go of the strand, and briefly knocked my chin with his knuckle. “Good morning.”

  “Hi.” My voice matched the warmth of the sun.

  “I hope you didn’t sleep like this all night. Isn’t a windowsill an uncomfortable excuse for a pillow?”

  “Actually, I’ve slept in worse positions.” The sereneness of our conversation and the peaceful morning embraced me like an extra layer of blankets. The mixture of mint, basil, and other herb
al scents drifted on the breeze and filled my head. I snuggled deeper into the crook of my arm. “What are you doing here, anyway?”

  “I came to wake you.”

  A mellow chuckle rocked my body. “With bunches of my hair?”

  He shrugged. And he wasn’t wearing a shirt. “Would you rather I poked you with a stick?”

  The thought of being badgered with a piece of wood made me grimace. “Hair is fine.”

  My gaze followed the outlines of his naked shoulders and firm biceps. Strong pecs twitched underneath smooth, suntanned skin when Julian planted his elbows on his squatted knees. I could have watched him like that for hours.

  “We’re supposed to go out in a bit. If you’d like to have breakfast first, Marie would be happy to see you in the kitchen.”

  “Eat again?” I cringed. My stomach was still stuffed from the luxurious meal we’d had yesterday evening. “But aren’t you going to have breakfast with them?”

  “I don’t usually eat breakfast.” He rose to his full height, smoothing his blue jeans over his thighs. “So, are you getting up now or do I need to go looking for a stick after all?”

  I tilted my head up to look at his face. “Please, no weapons. I’m coming of my own free will.”

  His sanguine expression changed to devious. “I’m trusting in that.”

  Neck stretched, I watched his taut butt as he walked to his room.

  TEAMWORK

  THE VERY SAME moment I reached the bottom of the stairs, my mother emerged from her room, her bony body wrapped in a purple house dress. Stupefied for a moment, I trudged outside instead of into the kitchen and found a seat on a wooden bench on the stone patio. Better skip breakfast today.

  Lou-Lou lay curled up under the bench and lifted her head to acknowledge me with a tired growl. I folded my legs underneath me—no need to take unnecessary risks with the black-eyed monster.

  The morning sun warmed my face and bare arms. Marie appeared through the front door and approached the table with lazy steps. “Are you not hungry, chérie? I can make you a cup of tea or coffee if you like.”