It was late autumn and the sun was heading toward a fiery dip in the Mediterranean when Rachel finally drove up to the house in Cassis and parked under a huge, bare oak tree. Arianne opened the door and rushed down the wide stone steps to welcome them. Mia and Iain struggled impatiently with their safety belts, eager to get out of the car and be reunited with Arianne.
Later that afternoon, Eugene’s vehicle came to a halt outside the house. Rachel stepped out and welcomed him.
“Eugene! Thanks for coming over.” She reached out to him and he kissed both her cheeks.
“I wanted to make sure my architect has settled in and was not in need of anything.” He laughed and lifted a case of wine from the trunk. “A good year, and something you will not find in any wine store,” he declared with a wink and carried the wooden crate to the front door.
“As long as it doesn’t constitute a bribe,” she joked back. “Come, let’s enjoy some refreshments.”
“I can’t stay,” Eugene answered in response to Rachel’s invitation, “Just wanted to thank you for making this sacrifice to move here for the project.”
“Hardly a sacrifice, Eugene.” Rachel smiled, indicating the lovely setting and the beautifully restored house behind her. “But thank you for checking in.”
“So, when would you like to visit Chateau Léon?”
“Tomorrow morning … if that works for you?” Rachel suggested, keen to experience the chateau first hand. Thus far, all they had to work on were the photos Eugene had provided and the official surveyor drawings.
“You’re sure? You just arrived. Don’t you need a bit more time to unpack and settle in?”
Rachel laughed. “No, I’m fine. Thanks, Eugene. I travel light and besides, I have Arianne to help me.”
When Eugene departed later, it was with the promise to collect Rachel at nine o’clock the next morning. “It’s difficult to find the first time, so I will happily drive you there tomorrow.”
• • •
Rachel had spent many hours studying the photos Eugene provided — imagining the splendor of the chateau, gauging the impressiveness — but she was not prepared for the majestic impression the building made on her as Eugene drove them along the neglected, bumpy gravel road leading up to the chateau. Century-old plane trees lined the approach to the chateau, a silent welcome from ancient guards.
Her face reflected in the car window, eyes wide with excitement, as she leaned forward to glance up at the aged stone walls. She marveled at the sight, her eyes bright with excitement and awe. Despite the ravaging damage caused by the fire, the stately building stood proudly in the surroundings of ancient oak trees and the backdrop of pristine vineyards. The new estate complex, constructed after the fire, could be seen on a hill in the far distance.
They walked up the wide marble staircase to the front door and Rachel hardly noticed the other vehicles parked in the forecourt.
“There you can see where we repaired the roof after the fire,” Eugene started when they entered the impressive building through the heavy wooden front door. Then he shrugged, showing his French side, and continued, “Well, of course, it doesn’t look that great, but it was good enough to protect the building against the elements.”
Four men from a removal company were busy crating a few pieces of large furniture while workers were sweeping the floor to clean the building in preparation for the work ahead. In the far corner, she noticed the tall, masculine shape of someone dressed in designer blue jeans and a black turtleneck cashmere sweater. He had his back to them and Rachel took in the wide shoulders and the sensual slant of his muscular back tapering down to his narrow hips.
Something about the casual stance of his lengthy, athletic frame was strangely familiar, but at that instant, she couldn’t place it.
“Come, let me introduce you to my son, Rachel,” Eugene invited, indicating the tall figure. “I don’t have the energy of a young man anymore … he will be working with you on the project while you’re on site.”
As they approached, Rachel noted the ease with which the man gave his instructions to the foreman. He was clearly used to being in charge. A niggling warning flashed in the back of her mind as they approached. He turned to face them.
Shock rocked Rachel to an abrupt halt. A cold vise clamped over her chest, forcing the air from her lungs. Her mouth went dry and her vision blurred. For a second, dizziness threatened to topple her.
“Rachel, let me introduce you. This is my son, Alain Léon.”
• • •
The sudden sight of Rachel hit him like a mule kick in the stomach. Alain flinched reflexively, clamped his jaw and, just in time, caught himself from stepping back.
He took in the lithe figure of Rachel, dressed in black wool trousers, functional black court shoes, and a white silk blouse. The second button on her blouse was undone and revealed just enough of the soft, creamy skin under the slender curve of her neck. A sudden urge to once again smell the aroma of her body welled up in him. The power of it stunned him.
Before he could prevent it, his eyes flashed to take in the sensuous curve of her hips and the subtle protrusion of her youthful, pert breasts under the thin material of her blouse.
He returned his gaze to her face, unprepared for the shock of her beautiful eyes, flaring like warm cognac. Surprise flashed high on her cheeks, and her soft lips parted ever so slightly at the sudden intake of air. Her hair was down, cascading from her shoulders, framing the beautiful, familiar features of her face.
“Pleased to meet you.” His throat was dry and he tried to avoid staring at her sensual lips. He settled for the eyes instead, but his chest tightened suddenly at the burning embers staring at him from under her long lashes.
• • •
“Likewise,” was all Rachel could muster, her mind racing like a trapped animal, but she followed Alain’s example and didn’t acknowledge their earlier, disastrous encounter. She shook Alain’s dry, warm hand and a light wave of electricity thrilled down her spine. The world around her suddenly appeared fuzzy — like in a dream.
How could this be happening? she thought in desperation. When Alain left her hotel room that evening in Monaco, she truly hoped to never see him again. His rude, uncouth behavior left her hurt and vulnerable. She would never be able to work with him on this project.
“Let me show you around, Rachel, so you can see the rest of the chateau for yourself,” Eugene offered. His words jolted her back to reality, and she jerked her hand from Alain’s firm, dry grip. Swallowing hard, not trusting her voice, she simply nodded at the welcome escape of Eugene’s suggestion. Avoiding Alain’s dark eyes, she turned sharply and followed Eugene from the room, aware of Alain’s piercing eyes burning into her back as she walked away. Squeezing the leather strap of her handbag in a tight grip, her mind raced anxiously to find a way out of the unbearable situation she was facing.
She couldn’t see herself working on this project any longer.
But Swift & Simon desperately needed this project — and the financial consequences of reneging on this contract could destroy their firm. Peter simply had to step in to replace her.
While Eugene guided Rachel through the interior of the building, she made her decision. When they finally completed the tour, she excused herself and hastened outside to make a phone call.
Her hands shook violently as she dug her phone from her handbag. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath of air. Then she flipped the phone open and hit the speed dial for her business partner.
“Peter, Alain is Eugene’s son,” she whispered loudly on her phone the second he answered, foregoing any formalities.
“Hold on, Rachel, what on earth are you on about?” Peter’s calm answer came back.
“Alain, he is Alain Léon — he is Chateau Léon. Peter, I simply cannot run this project.”
“You mean that Alain?” Peter’s shock managed to stir Rachel into near hysterics. Trembling, she turned in a small circle as hopelessness washed over her, stamping her feet in frustration.
“Yes, that Alain. Peter, you have to step in — there is no other way.”
The line went silent and Rachel sensed she was beginning to lose her argument. “Peter, you can understand? You know the history.” Her voice was almost pleading.
Peter cleared his throat, and, dejected, Rachel dropped her head to her chest.
“Rachel, you know I can’t do that — not even for you,” Peter answered in a slow, gentle voice. A deep sigh could be heard over the line. Then he continued, “I’m spread too thin on the projects here in London already. My clients will go ballistic if I drop everything now and disappear to France.”
After Monaco, she had shared the pain of that disastrous evening with Peter, and he was quick to point out how thankful she should be for not having a man like Alain in her life. But now, all that has changed. Alain had become an important part of her life — her client. With growing impatience, she listened to Peter stating his points. Easy for him to say, but I’m the one who has to face the arrogant Alain, she thought wryly.
“Listen, Rachel, he is just another idiot fool who doesn’t deserve someone like you. He’s a nothing. Don’t let this upset you. Just treat him as another client.”
As Peter continued his rational explanations, she was forced to accept the facts. They were faced with one of only two options.
The first was for her to continue managing the project. The second option could lead to significant financial losses — even the real risk of closing the doors to Swift & Simon. She could never do that to Peter — not after all he had done for her.
“Well, Rachel, have you seen enough for today?” Eugene asked with a tired smile when she rejoined them after her telephone call. With a sudden pang of guilt, she realized that it had been a long and exhausting day for Eugene. He needed to get some rest.
“Yes, thanks — for now,” Rachel answered quickly, “and now I know my way here, so you don’t have to chaperone me all the way from Cassis again.”
“Good point.” Eugene turned to Alain. “Alain, can you drive the lovely Rachel back? I’m going to relax with my novel.”