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‘Let me.’ He spooned several helpings onto her plate, set it down in front of her and served himself. ‘I had no right to question you about the package. Je suis désolé.’
Her eyes widened and she nodded. ‘Apology accepted.’ She gave a short laugh. ‘The last two days have been little...challenging—although I can’t say I would’ve done the same in your shoes.’
Bastien grimaced. Knowing he deserved the barbed accusation, he picked up and held out the wine bottle. At her nod, he uncorked it and poured the rich burgundy into her glass. Filling his own glass, he drank deep.
She took a mouthful of food and groaned. ‘This is seriously good!’ Her gaze dropped to his plate. ‘You haven’t tasted yours yet.’
‘No,’ he replied, and drank more wine. Mon Dieu, he was turning into a raging alcoholic—and all because of the woman sitting across from him. The woman who challenged him, made him question himself and the presence of the ache deep inside he’d thought he’d smothered for good.
‘Well, don’t blame me if I eat all of it.’
‘Go ahead. A woman who doesn’t complain about piling on the pounds at the mere sight of food makes a refreshing change.’
Her husky self-conscious laugh played havoc with his equilibrium. ‘I didn’t actually mean that. I’m not that much of a pig.’
‘Trust me, a pig is the last thing I think of when I look at you.’
Her eyes rounded.
Advising himself that it was best not to keep looking into those captivating brown depths, he resolutely picked up his fork. ‘What’s likely to trigger an attack?’
‘My asthma?’
He nodded.
‘I’ve only suffered one serious attack, so I’d say I’m generally risk-free.’ She shrugged, causing one sleeve to slip off her shoulder. ‘But sometimes in the spring, if the pollen count is high, it gets a bit uncomfortable. Heavy smoke isn’t great for me either.’
Bastien frowned. ‘So you don’t know how susceptible you are?’
‘I know what to stay away from and what situations I’ll be okay in.’
‘Yet that didn’t stop you from putting yourself in danger by attending your friend’s party?’
‘I can’t live my life in fear of an attack,’ she said, after swallowing another mouthful.
Bastien abandoned his meal and picked up his glass. ‘No, but—’
‘I took my inhaler with me,’ she interrupted, glaring at him.
He was being heavy-handed again. He looked into his glass, slowly swirling his drink, and forced himself to calm down. ‘And we all know how that turned out.’
When she didn’t reply immediately, he looked up. Her lips were pursed into a firm line and she’d paled a little. One hand absently toyed with the stem of her glass as she stonily examined the contents of her plate.
‘We’re having a nice meal, Bastien. Don’t ruin it.’
Bastien cursed under his breath and set his glass down. ‘Have you packed yet?’
Her gaze returned warily to his. ‘I didn’t unpack because I didn’t think I’d be staying beyond today.’
‘Then we can leave directly after dinner.’
She nodded. ‘Fine by me. Where’s your château?’
‘It’s in Vaud—on the shores of Lac Léman.’
‘Will anyone else be there?’
‘My estate staff live on the grounds, but otherwise we’ll be alone. Does that concern you?’ Part of him wished that it would—that the notion would unsettle her the way he’d felt unsettled all day long.
