The bumpy road leading up to the chateau was filled with potholes and in desperate need of repairs. Rachel slowed to a crawl, navigating her rental car toward the chateau. She exited her vehicle and started up the stairs to the heavy, hand-carved front door. The past two weeks she’d been working closely with Eugene on finalizing the design he selected. Once they had agreed on all the detail, Eugene would hand most of the work over to Alain.
She compressed her lips.
Alain.
Soon she would be working with him on this project. She dreaded the day, but couldn’t deny the flutter of excitement in her stomach. Just the thought of seeing him again made her heart race. Irritated, she dumped the car keys in her purse and mumbled to herself, “As Peter said — he doesn’t deserve me. Forget about him.”
Eugene’s crew had erected a makeshift table for her in the ballroom, and Rachel headed straight for it. Eager to finish the final edits to the design Eugene approved, Rachel turned all her attention to the blueprint drawings in front of her. Soon she was engrossed in her work.
“Hi, Rachel … ”
She shrieked, jolted upright from the table and spun around. She exhaled slowly, a little embarrassed.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to frighten you.” He smiled at her, his teeth brilliant white against his bronzed skin.
She took in the powerful shape of his lean body under the soft cotton shirt. She frowned lightly and scowled at the warm jubilation washing over her. Why should she be so delighted to see this man?
“No, it was me — I was deep in thought,” she replied with a wave of her hand.
Close on Alain’s heels, two strangers marched into the room. From their appearance, Rachel deduced they were the contractors Alain had selected. Alain and Eugene had put tenders out for the restoration work and short-listed the contractors based on their experience working on relevant projects. She knew they had interviewed the contractors and made their selections. It was time to meet the crew.
“Rachel, I’ve requested the contractors to meet with us today so that I can introduce them to you.” He turned and invited the men to join them. “This is Thierry Roux, main contractor.” A short, barrel-chested man beamed a wide smile at her, his gray, friendly eyes set deep in a wrinkled face.
“And this is Alexis Du Toit, electrical contractor.” Alexis nodded. His fair complexion turned a deep red and he lowered his gaze, stuffing his hands in his pockets.
“Enchanté, Madame,” both greeted her, and Rachel was not surprised to find that neither of them spoke any English.
The front door slammed shut, and a third man sauntered into the room. Alain turned to face him. “Ah, and this is Pierre Mas, plumbing contractor — Pierre, Madame Swift.”
As Pierre approached, his eyes shifted down to take in Rachel’s legs, then rested for seconds on her breasts, before he lifted his gaze lazily to meet her eyes. Rachel shifted, uncomfortable. Then she lifted her head high and met his gaze with a steely look in her eyes.
“Enchanté, Madame,” the plumber declared, and as Rachel returned to her drawing table, he glanced at the other two men and mumbled something under his breath.
His words were lost on her, but Alain tensed next to her. Electricity charged the air, and a little muscle jumped in his jaw. He stepped forward and instructed the other two contractors to leave the room. In silence he waited patiently for them to exit.
Then, with one swift movement, he planted his body in front of Pierre. The soft, measured words that rumbled from his chest reminded Rachel of an approaching lightning storm — dangerous and threatening.
“Pourquoi?” Pierre raised his shoulders and threw his hands in the air, challenging Alain’s instructions. Alain took one menacing step closer to Pierre, his chest heaving with barely controlled rage. Towering over the man, he pointed a long finger toward the door, his forearms tightened in anger. Leaning into Pierre’s face, he whispered with menace, “Leave, now.”
She watched in silence as the man turned abruptly and left the room. “What was that all about?” she asked, hiding the quiver in her voice. Violence always frightened her.
“His behavior was offensive. I will not tolerate that. His replacement will report here tomorrow morning.”
“I could have dealt with it,” she replied bravely, yet silently relieved Alain had taken care of the situation. Alain’s eyebrows snapped into a dark line, and he shook his head.
“Forget about it.” Then he stepped toward the table to inspect the final additions to the plan. He leaned closer and Rachel could make out that familiar, slightly woodsy smell of his roused maleness. In a long, sweeping movement, he smoothed the large sheets of paper in front of him. The only sound was his slow, deep breathing while he focused on the scale drawings.
With his attention on the drawings, she was safe to study the beautiful man in front of her. She nodded her silent approval at the strong jaw line and high forehead. He seemed oblivious to the dark, unruly twist of hair that dangled enticingly over his brow. Fascinated, she watched as he traced the changes she had made from their last meeting. He paused, considering something for a moment and then looked up at her. The sudden shock of his dark eyes unnerved her, and blood rushed to her cheeks. Embarrassed, she pushed a loose wisp of hair from her brow.
“Why this beam … here?” he asked, pointing to the plan.
“Your father wants the staircase restored in the original marble stone.” Short of breath, she paused briefly before she could continue. “So we will have to strengthen the support to carry the extra weight.”
“Can you show me?”
Rachel took the plan from the table and walked toward the staircase with Alain following her. She paused at the steps and held the plans in front of her.
She looked up and indicated a point directly above them. “The joists will hang at that point from the beams you see on the plan here.”
Alain stepped closer and stared intently over her shoulder at the plan. Her arms were outstretched at full length in front of her, holding the drawings in mid-air.
“From this point here?” he asked and leaned over her to indicate the area on the plan. Alain’s chest touched her upper arm and her throat closed at the sudden warmth where their bodies touched. Rachel nodded twice in answer to his question and swallowed hard, but her mouth was dry. A light tremor ran through her hands and into the plans.
She spun into a slow spiral of desire. Alain’s closeness burnt into her arm, and her heart skipped at the thought of his lips on her body. The unanswered craving left her dizzy and short of breath.
Keep it professional, now. Her feeble reminder came as an afterthought.
“Which beam?” he asked again, looking up to the ceiling.
She deftly folded the plan under her arm, anxious to get her wild emotions under control. She raised the folded plan and pointed to the wooden staircase. “Let me go and show you,” she suggested to Alain.
Her breathing was shallow, and her heart hammered in her chest as she started up the fire-damaged staircase, taking care to avoid weakened treads and the loose handrail. Alain followed closely behind her.
She warned Alain over her shoulder, “Careful on the — ”
With a loud, splintering crack, the weakened wood of the top step suddenly gave way under her foot, and she stumbled, trying to catch her balance. A firm hand shot out to steady her, and she staggered back against his body. Alain corrected his balance and gripped her body firmly against his.
She opened her eyes and exhaled. His chest pressed against her back, strong and warm. Memories flashed through her mind — his powerful body pressing down onto her, his gentle hands stroking her skin. Her heart fluttered wildly, and she turned around to face him, nervous and a little embarrassed in the tight circle of his embrace. “Thanks,” she whispered, her voice low and shaky against his chest, but she could not bring herself to step out of his embrace.
Alain held her a little longer and then he lowered his head to her. Warm, firm lips found her mouth, and Rachel inhaled sharply at the sensation of his tongue dancing over her lips, probing, seeking. He pulled her closer to his body, and she closed her eyes as her breasts pressed against the firm muscles of his chest, the warmth of his body addictive. He placed a hand on her face, cupping her cheek, and then let it slide like silk down the nape of her neck. Her skin came alive, and sensations of electric pinpricks ran up her spine to nestle in her hair. Rachel shivered, and a soft sigh escaped from her throat. With a slight tilt of her head, she allowed him easier access to her mouth and started to meet the flickering probes of his tongue with hers.
His soft nip on her lower lip edged her to open wider, allowing him to feed his hungry urgency, and his tongue plunged into her mouth. She bunched a fistful of his long, dark hair and relaxed the tight muscles in her back, allowing her lower body to melt into his frame. Darting from lips to teeth, his tongue explored the soft depths of her mouth.
His hand traced the quivering ripples down the curve of her spine until it rested on her buttocks. He squeezed her so tightly against him that she could feel the hard heat of his arousal. A low groan escaped from deep in Alain’s chest. He angled his hip to thrust her legs apart, and she met his thrust and pushed back.
She startled with shock at the loud crash of a door slamming shut. Muffled voices echoed from an empty room somewhere as the two contractors returned from the cigarette they had shared outside.
She pushed away from Alain abruptly, blinked twice, and, gathering herself, ran a hand through her ruffled hair. Looking up from straightening her clothes, she noticed a small, twisted smile playing on Alain’s delicious lips. In an instant, she lost it. Angry at herself and her inability to stand up to his sexuality, she lashed out to hurt him.
“You hypocrite … ”
Too late she realized her mistake. A dark, dangerous shadow flashed over his eyes, and his mouth snapped into a hard line. A small muscle flickered in anger under his left eye.
“Just add it to your itemized bill under entertainment,” he snapped and stomped down the treacherous stairs in anger.
• • •
Furious with himself, Alain stormed out into the forecourt and sat down on a small wooden bench under an ancient chestnut tree.
Clearly, this wasn’t going to work. Hypocrite, of all things. But she was right, he acknowledged. He had to get a grip on his emotions — his desires. Frustrated, he ran his hand over his jaw in an attempt to suppress the desire to step back into the chateau and kiss her into submission — to make passionate love to her.
“Get it into your head — she’s married, Alain!” he shouted in frustrated anger. He was angry, his anger fueled by the dark history of his past.
Agitated, he ran a hand roughly through his hair and exhaled slowly in an effort to calm down. He had to find a way to control this maddening urge inside him, a desire that grew stronger by the day. This crazy need to touch her, to caress her skin, to kiss her.
He sighed and leaned his elbows on his knees, staring morosely down at the ground between his feet. The problem, though, was not that simple, he finally admitted. It wasn’t just her sensual body that appealed so strongly to him.
He constantly yearned for her company. She was intelligent and witty, strong-minded and independent — and gentle when she wanted to be. He smiled wryly. Everything he could ever wish for in a woman. He was falling in love — with the wrong woman. A married woman.
“And that cannot happen,” he said with determination.
No, Rachel’s life was with her husband and her kids, irrespective of his feelings for her. Regardless of the fact that she kissed him back, he thought bitterly. She had her family and he will not be responsible for destroying it. It needed to stop. He needed to kill these growing feelings inside him before it got out of hand.
“Kill the romance. Now,” he whispered and swallowed hard.
Suddenly eager to get away from the chateau, Alain hurried over to his car. His decision was made. He would treat Rachel as the architect on the project. From now on, it would be strictly professional.