AllFreeNovel
Share Us
She walked into the kitchen and poured herself a tall glass of chablis. As she sipped it, the wine both soothed and made her more vulnerable to her feelings.
She missed Remy. For weeks she’d seen him every day. What if he was in serious trouble with the police? What if there was something she could say to them that would help him? She had to talk to him.
Since he’d warned her against using cell phones, she called the Château de Fournier instead. But as the phone rang, Amy felt panic rising within her. When a woman answered, she almost slammed the phone down.
“Is…is Remy there?”
“Just a moment please.”
She bit her lip. Then another woman came on the line. “This is Céline.”
“I—I want Remy.”
“I’m sorry. He went to Cannes yesterday.”
“I know. This is Amy Weatherbee. Do you have any idea how the investigation is going?”
“I know who you are, Mademoiselle Weatherbee. We thought he’d be back today. But he hasn’t even called.”
“Well, if you hear from him, would you tell him to call me, please?”
“Of course, mademoiselle. Excuse me…”
When Amy heard muffled voices, she had the feeling that Céline had covered the phone to speak to someone else.
Céline returned almost at once. “I’m sorry about the interruption. The comtesse would like to speak to you.”
The comtesse’s voice was cold. “Madamemoiselle Weatherbee, I’m delighted about the sale. Does this mean you will be leaving soon?”
“As soon as possible.”
“I don’t wonder, all these awful reporters snooping about. Céline can’t even wander down to the village without having one of the beasts pop out and take her picture.”
“I’m sorry about all that,” Amy said even as she wondered what Céline was doing in the village if Remy wasn’t coming back.
“I did warn Remy. He should have protected you,” his mother said.
Amy saw no reason to tell her he’d tried. “If he calls, would you please tell him I’d like to see him before I go.”
“I don’t think that will be possible. His secretary and a good friend of his are getting married in Paris. He’s going to be best man. It’s rather sudden. As soon as Remy’s finished in Cannes, he has a direct flight to Paris.”
“So, he…he has no plans to return to Château de Fournier?”
“Not as far as I know.” The comtesse’s quiet voice held icy triumph.
Amy’s eyes felt hot as she hung up, but she didn’t cry.
Like Cinderella after the ball, her world was reduced to cinders.
It was over. In a few days she’d be home.
Twelve
T he cicadas were roaring as Amy sat dully beside the pool and sipped black, double-strength coffee that was so hot it burned her tongue. Between sips, she bit into her buttery breakfast croissant. Make that her second croissant, both of which had been slathered thickly with orange marmalade.
She was full, but still eating. She shouldn’t take another bite, but she’d been on something of an eating binge since she’d talked to the comtesse two days ago. Not that she wanted to think about how tight her jeans were. She simply wanted to eat and forget.Funny how everything about Château Serene made her miss Remy. The sweet scent of lavender made her remember making love to him out here under the stars. The glimmering water made her think of the times they’d skinny-dipped. Under those pine trees, he’d held her and they’d made their bargain.
Such thoughts were an indulgence. She had to quit torturing herself. With a supreme effort of will, she looked past the pool to the lavender that rolled toward the distant mountains. The château and vineyard were a picture postcard come to life. Her heart ached at the thought of leaving it all forever.
She loved him. She knew that no matter how long she lived or who else she loved or what children she might have, she would never forget this poignantly lovely place, and it would always remind her of him.
How strange. Remy had taught her to be sexy, but it didn’t matter because she wanted no one but him. He hadn’t just imparted skills. He’d given himself. He was the magic that made her come alive in bed.
Suddenly, above the humming of the cicadas, she heard a car sweep up the drive. Her stomach tightened in both anticipation and dread.
Even though she knew Remy was supposed to be in Paris, she got up and ran around to the front of the château, anyway. And oh, how painfully her stomach knotted at the sight of the tall, slim blonde in pristine, white slacks, her hair an elegant coil at the nape of her slender neck.
