by Chloe Blake
Maya hung up, her grip on her phone a little too tight. She wasn’t sure if she was angry with her mother or herself, but emotions she hadn’t known were there threatened to come out in a string of questions. She’d never known about this man. Why?
And now it was too late.
She had been a teen when she’d found a shoebox of old Polaroids in her mother’s closet. There was her mother in awful eighties’ clothing, smiling, posing and laughing.
In several, her mother wore a minidress and showed off a pregnant belly. Maya had always wondered who had taken that picture. Her mother’s eyes held a glint, like she was looking at a lover.
Then one picture had popped out of the bunch. A four-year-old Maya in green elf pajamas sitting on Santa’s lap. But on closer inspection, the smiling man wasn’t old or fat, and he only wore a red shirt, jeans and the Santa hat. Dad.
She had never told her mother she had seen those photos, or asked why those photos never made it out of the closet. She’d assumed there was a good reason, and by the time she discovered boys, she didn’t much care.
* * *
Maya took the elevator to the lobby and was shocked to find it looking clean and professional again, almost as if Caligula had never happened. Her eyes darted around as she found her way to Le Salon Rouge, wondering if she would run into Nic. There were only staff in sight, but she did find the entrance to the salon and its host standing outside.
“I’m here to meet Monsieur Dechamps.”
“Mademoiselle Belcourt, you are the first to arrive. Would you like to be seated?” First, everyone needed to stop calling her that. Second, she really had to work on being fashionably late.
“Yes, merci.” She gave up her intent to correct the host and looked over his shoulder into the empty den. Red walls with golden tapestry and large leather booths dominated the room. She was seated in a far corner with the entrance directly in her line of sight. The host exited the room and closed the double doors behind him.
She fluffed her hair and felt a flutter in her stomach at the thought of meeting Monsieur Dechamps. Would he be a stuffy jerk? He had been partners with her father, and the lawyer said the stipulations of her father’s will were a surprise.
Male voices echoed outside the door, and then it burst open. She recognized the lawyer from his photo. He was still talking when he came toward her with a small wave, then stopped and turned as if he’d lost something.
“Did you hear anything I just said?” he yelled to the empty doorway. With a shake of his head, he turned back toward Maya. “Apologies, Maya. We are having an unusual morning. Not like him at all.” He said the latter under his breath before coming to a dramatic halt at the table. “Please allow me to formally introduce myself. James T. Bauer, Esquire. At your service.” Maya shook his outstretched hand and James settled into the seat across from her. “We have much to discuss. I hope you’ve had your coffee.”
“I could use another.” Just as she said it, servers came in to pour coffee and tea, pushing a cart full of mouthwatering dishes. “And by the way,” she said, stirring sugar into her lifeblood. “My last name is North.”
James looked at her over his spectacles. “Not according to your birth certificate.”
Maya’s head snapped up, but her attention turned to the man who had entered the room and was walking briskly toward them. He was dressed casually in a crew neck sweater, jeans and leather sneakers, all black to match his hair. She swallowed hard when he slowed, his eyes narrowing as he recognized her. At least she hoped that was recognition—he’d left her bed only hours ago.
What was he doing here? He’d said he had a...meeting...oh no.
The color must have drained from her face because James put down his tartine to twist around in his chair. “My boy, you disappeared. I was beginning to wonder if you were going to join us. Erm, mademoiselle, meet Luca Nicolas Rayo Dechamps, your business partner, if it suits you,” he added with a wink. “You may change your mind after this meeting.” He chuckled. “Nic, Maya Belcourt, I mean North.”
“Um, hello.” Maya extended her hand, her gaze roaming over him, remembering him towering naked over her. Her voice cracked. “So nice to finally meet you.”
“Enchanté.” Nic’s grin slid to a dull slant as he accepted her handshake and tried to keep his face neutral. “So glad to finally put a name to a face. I am so sorry about your father.”
She couldn’t speak. “That’s very kind.”
They stared, shaking hands slowly, the air between them sizzling. The lawyer fell silent.
“Have you two met before?”
“No,” they said in unison, breaking from each other’s grip.
Maya sat back down and focused on her coffee, trying to ignore the fact that she’d slept with her business partner.
That it was the best sex she’d ever had.
That she was hyperaware of his every movement as he sat next to her and fixed himself a plate of food.
That he smelled amazing.
“Patron, Chef wants to know if you need anything else?” a server asked Nic. Nic shook his head, then glanced at Maya. Her French was sparse, but she knew that word.
He was the owner of the hotel.
Chapter 6
James didn’t waste any time. Papers began to fill the table. Deeds, share transfers, business contracts—the latter still in French. Translated versions were being prepared for her so she could read it thoroughly, and by the better part of an hour, she was the equal partner in a vineyard and wine brokerage that generated about one to two million in revenue per year.
“And I think that covers the basic transfers for today. I have another appointment, but you and Nic should get acquainted since you are partners. At least for now. A bientôt.”
“Wait,” Maya burst out. “You mentioned my birth certificate.”
“There is a copy in the transfer documents. Full name Maya Elizabeth North Belcourt.”
She gritted her teeth, trying to remember the last time she had even seen her birth certificate. Her mother had some more explaining to do.
James’s departure left no distraction from the elephant in the room.
Nic put down his coffee. “Maya, maybe we should—”
“Is this a weird, sick game to you? Bedding your new business partner?”
He looked stricken. “I promise I had no idea.”
“No? You didn’t google me or anything? You weren’t curious who you were going to meet?”
“I asked my assistant to look for a Maya Belcourt. A name you don’t use.” His dark lashes narrowed a bit, giving her flashbacks to the night before. “Honestly, Albert never mentioned that he had a daughter. I didn’t even know you existed until a month ago.”
She looked away and poured herself more coffee. She never would have dreamed this a month ago.
“Then I’ll say thank you,” Maya murmured.
“For?” He pushed the cream and sugar her way.
“Last night. I needed it.” His eyes followed the cup to her lips. “Partner.” She took a sip. “I’d like to discuss this thirty percent drop in revenue you’ve had over the past three years.” She almost laughed when his mouth turned down.
“The brokering of our clients’ grapes has been strong, but we’ve struggled with selling our own grapes. The vineyard is productive, but no one is buying.”
“Yes, but your expenses increased last year even as your revenue continued to drop. Not good for profit.”
“I’m sorry. Where are you getting this information?”
Maya flipped through the mountain of papers to a page full of numbers. “You didn’t give this to James?”
“Nathan must have.”
“Who is Nathan?”
“He’s my, I mean, our assistant.”
“Do you usually allow Nathan to just give out information without
you knowing about it?”
Nic met her glare with his own. “Nathan knows what he’s doing. And he was devastated by your father’s death.”
Maya’s temper eased and she slowly nodded. She had to remember that while she didn’t know her father, others did, and they would be affected by not only his death, but her unexpected appearance.
“So are you devastated?”
Nic’s gaze dropped to the table. “It’s been hard on me. He was like a fath—um.”
“No, it’s okay. He was like a father to you. My stepfather has always been there for me. I’d be very upset if anything were to happen to him.” She hesitated. “What did happen? Everyone keeps saying heart attack, but no one has details.”
“He was working. Nathan found him lying on the ground in the vineyard.” Emotions she didn’t know were there welled in her throat, and tears sprang to her eyes. Nic took her hand. “He didn’t suffer.”
“Was he sick?” Feeling uneasy from the contact, she pulled her hand away and dabbed at her eyes with the cloth napkin.
“Not that I know of. He was as strong and healthy as an ox. Just the day before, he had been lugging a box of books around in his den.”
They sat in silence for a long minute, then Nic spoke softly. “My father went the same way. They were best friends and went into business together. I grew up around the vineyard. My father passed and left his shares to me seven years ago. I’ve been working with Albert ever since.”
“I’m sure you thought his shares would go to you.”
Nic hung his head, and she remembered how soft his hair was. She stifled an urge to run her hands over the back of his neck. “Yes, I thought he would have, but we didn’t know about you then.”
She finished her coffee and declined his offer of more food. “You didn’t answer my question. About the expenses,” she said to his quizzical look.
One corner of his mouth turned up. “What was it you do again?”
“I’m a business consultant for Lynch and Company in LA. You look startled.”
He looked her up and down. “I didn’t expect that.”
“What did you think?”
“You mentioned something about Karl Lagerfeld last night. I assumed you worked in fashion.”
She chuckled, from both his mention of the night before and the fact that he’d actually been listening. “I’ve consulted for YSL, a competitor of Karl’s.”
“Impressive.”
“Yes. I am.” Her nod was serious.
That got a full megawatt smile out of him, and damn if he wasn’t fine. “Americans.”
“Yep. It’s called confidence.”
“That’s what you call it?” Still smiling.
“Oui, oui,” she said with flair. “Not that far off from French arrogance.” His laugh was a deep vibration in his chest. She continued to tease, wanting to hear more. “You’re French and something else, though, am I right? You spoke Spanish last night.”
“Last night...” he said in a low voice with a shake of his head. He studied her face before speaking. “My mother is from Spain.”
“Mmm,” she said, remembering how he had whispered to her in another language. The sound had been her kryptonite. “So about those expenses. Partner.”
He straightened as if he were a student caught by the teacher. “We upgraded our production equipment to increase our grape supply, but the demand continued to slow.”
“You’ve written off the amortization of the equipment against the loss on your taxes?”
“Every year.”
“I don’t see any investment in marketing.”
“That’s because we didn’t do any.”
“You increased production, saw a dip in sales and didn’t increase marketing?”
“We aren’t a retail store—”
“No, you’re a wholesale store, but still a store.”
His jaw clenched as he looked at her. “So are you planning on taking over where Albert left off then?”
No, she wasn’t, but she didn’t like being brushed off. “It’s half my business. I suppose I have a right to, if that’s what I want.”
His eyes narrowed. “Is it what you want?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t seen the place yet.”
“We’ll remedy that right now. But if you decide to do this, you’ll have to move here.”
“Okay.” She shrugged. His eyes went wide and she held in a sadistic smile.
“What about Lynch and Lynch?”
“Lynch and Company. And I can work remotely.”
Nic shook his head. “Good, because you can’t work a vineyard remotely.”
“I can’t work a vineyard, period. We’ll hire someone.”
He shook his head. “There’s no budget for that.”
“I’ll rework that budget. No more upgrades in a down market.”
“It was the right decision to make.”
“Did you get more sales?”
He cleared his throat and signaled a server. “We’re finished here. Have my car brought around.”
He took a deep breath and leaned closer. Her gaze dropped to his lips, and her heart pounded for a kiss. “I’ll take you to the vineyard. Pack an overnight bag. You can keep the rest of your things here if you wish. Once you’ve become acquainted with the business, I think we can come to an agreement.”
“An agreement?” She swallowed as he reached out and touched a lock of hair on her shoulder. “What kind of agreement?”
“A mutually beneficial agreement.”
“Meaning?” She tipped her lips forward.
“Meaning, I’ll be buying your shares.” Her jaw dropped. She blinked, and he was already by the doorway before he turned back to her. “We’re leaving in twenty minutes. I’ll be out front.”
* * *
They sped out of Paris in Nic’s silver Karma Revero hybrid, an expensive, tech-heavy but environmentally conscious car that made the Batmobile look like a Chevy. Maya had never understood the term “panty dropper” in relation to cars, but when Nic had pressed a button and the doors lifted like wings, she was pretty certain her panties had disintegrated.
“Nice car,” she murmured, relaxing in the bucket seat, itching to play with the computer screen on the dash. She caressed the leather, instead. Butter. This was impressive. “So, you’re a tree hugger, huh? Me, too.” Okay, she drove a Rover, but she recycled. “This car company was started in California. My colleague did some work with them.”
He nodded, staring straight ahead with his hands leisurely on the wheel. “That’s where I first drove it. They have a spiritual approach to cars, if that makes sense. As a vintner, I should do what I can to respect the earth.”
Maya nodded, wondering how he had gotten sexier in the last two minutes. No, she wasn’t going to go there. She refused to be attracted to the man who had basically told her he was going to buy her shares of the business and kick her out. They had shared one night...an amazing night...but big deal. The memory would fade.
If past experience with men held true, the more time she spent with him, the less she would want to take his clothes off. It was always the case with her love interests. They were all knights in shining armor until the fourth date when, at the stroke of midnight, they turned back into pumpkins.
“I think more people would respect the earth if they had the money to buy cars like this,” Maya said.
“You like cars?”
“I like businesses that disrupt the norm. For instance, there’s a solar panel in the roof that powers the car.” He glanced at her with an impressed look. “Meanwhile, what were you doing in California?”
“Your father and I had traveled to Napa Valley. Albert had hoped to work with some wineries, and he also looked at some land. Come to think of it, he was adamant about making something work out there,
but it never came together. I always wondered why it was so important to him.” Nic frowned and looked at her. “Maybe now I know why.”
Maya looked away quickly, afraid she was going to say something insulting about the man he knew as a second father. Albert had been in California and yet decided not to visit his daughter. Her deceased father could take his shares of the business and shove them.
The computer panel lit up with a phone call that Nic quickly ended with the press of a button, but not before Maya saw the name Daphne. Daphne called right back and Nic turned off his phone. Maya glanced at him, but he didn’t turn her way.
They drove in silence for a few minutes. Maya stared out the window and absorbed her surroundings. They were passing through a small village where the homes were all honey-colored cottages. Shops and cafés lined the streets, and families were out walking in wool sweaters and cozy scarves. Farther in the distance was a denser population of buildings.
“This is beautiful.” Maya stifled a yawn, embarrassed that he knew exactly why she was tired. “Where are we?”
“We are on the outskirts of Orléans, the official capital of the Loire Valley. Joan of Arc saved the city from the English in the fourteen hundreds.”
Maya’s eyes widened. “You’re kidding, and we’re passing by? I need to stop here and drink the water or kiss the stones—anything to take in such female empowerment.”
Nic chuckled. “We aren’t far from Par Le Bouquet. All the water is the same, so I’ll make sure Nathan finds you a glass, but I don’t think you need it.”
Maya turned her head quickly, her eyes narrowed. “What does that mean?”
“It means you seem strong enough already.” Maya studied his face to see if he was mocking her, but his genuine smile said otherwise. She turned back to the road, wondering how she was going to keep her head in business when all her body wanted to do was sin.
* * *
The car emerged from a tree-lined lane, and a two-story gray stone château rose from the hills where it had stood for centuries. Vines and budding flowers snaked from the ground, while tiny lights gave a soft glow to the windows. The surrounding landscape was manicured while the trees and greenery on either side of the house were bolder and wild. To the right, running from the back of the mansion into the horizon, were rows and rows of grapevines.