Susan Stephens Selection

‘Which is nothing,’ Guy pointed out in a low drawl that strummed a quivering chord of pure sensation up and down her spine.

Kate watched as suspicion honed his keen grey gaze into a laser beam trained on her face. ‘That must make quite a change for you, Guy,’ she said, as uncertainty made her revert to the light banter that had always brought her close to him in the past. She wasn’t expecting to be swung around quite so forcibly.

‘Ca suffit maintenant! This is no joking matter, Kate,’ he said tersely. ‘I am through playing games. Those covenants stand. I forbid you to operate a business on my land.’

‘You forbid?’

‘You heard me,’ he said firmly. ‘I have already conceded the point of you retaining La Petite Maison for your own use, but I will not be pushed into agreeing to some wild scheme…’

‘Wild scheme?’ Kate said angrily as she attempted to shake herself free. ‘I lay all my business plans with great care, or have you forgotten the success I’ve had already with Freedom Holidays?’

‘I confess I’d forgotten what it feels like to run up against you,’ Guy admitted as he tightened his grip.

Kate shivered as she noticed something very dark and dangerous brewing in his eyes.

‘Oh, pour l’amour de Dieu, Kate! Do your worst,’ he grated, holding her so close now her lips tingled in response. ‘I’m ready for you.’

‘Oh, really?’ she challenged.

‘Really. And you will do what I say,’ he added with the force of inborn authority.

She should have moved then—moved as soon as she saw the expression in his eyes warning her that he was brutally aroused—and not just by the conflict between them. She knew she should struggle, but his hands were too skilful and knew her too well. Their touch was so light and seductive and she had waited so long. Holding her locked in the arrogance of his heated gaze, Guy began to feather touches across her shoulders and down her arms. He had no need to do more. She came to him willingly, eagerly, surprising them both with the force of her desire.

‘No,’ he murmured sternly, holding her away from him. ‘Not here and not now.’ And, easing her arms away from his neck, he took her by the hand and led her out into the garden again. Fountains were playing a soothing tune in hidden courtyards and the scent of lavender hung heavily in the air as he took her through an iron gate that led into a large cobbled yard in the gardeners’ kingdom. He kept her close by his side as he took her down a flight of steep stone steps and Kate was forced to cling to his hand as she peered into the gloom, wondering where he was taking her. Their footsteps echoed eerily in the still black night and when they reached the bottom she couldn’t resist an anxious glance back up to the top.

‘Having second thoughts?’ Guy suggested dryly.

‘Certainly not.’ But she was shivering now and not from the cold, for the air was heavy and warm, but from a heady mix of uncertainty, expectation and desire.

Guy’s firm lips curved in a hard smile. ‘Well, if you’re quite sure…’ He pushed open a heavy oak door to reveal a brilliantly lit, château-sized potting shed with a stone floor where row upon row of new young plants on tiered platforms awaited transfer to the flower beds outside. He heard her gasp and turned around. ‘Not quite what you expected?’ he murmured.

It certainly wasn’t. With one of the most beautiful homes in Europe at his disposal it was an odd place for a romantic tryst—if that was what he intended. ‘Are you sure you haven’t brought me down here to lock me in and throw away the key?’

‘I hadn’t thought of that,’ he admitted throwing her a look. ‘Don’t tempt me.’

As he started to walk away from her Kate couldn’t stop herself blurting out, ‘Don’t leave me.’

‘I won’t be long,’ Guy promised. ‘Stay there. You’re not scared, are you, Kate?’ he suggested with a wry twist of his wickedly beautiful mouth.

‘Of course not.’ She had all the same symptoms, though, Kate realised, staring back at him defiantly. Her heart was racing; her lungs were pumping.

‘If you will just excuse me for a few moments,’ he drawled, sketching a mock bow.

Hugging herself for comfort, Kate gazed around. The rows of plants seemed to stretch to infinity, but there were no dark corners so there was absolutely no need for her to be nervous, she told herself firmly as she hummed a tuneless little song. But as the minutes ticked by she thought more than once about tearing back up the stairs and out into the open air again.

‘Thank you for waiting.’

She whirled around at the sound of Guy’s voice, then uttered a short cry. ‘Comtesse de Villeneuve!’ Kate sped across to Guy’s side where his mother stood leaning on her son’s arm, but her attempt at a formal greeting was brushed aside as the Countess drew her into a warm embrace.

‘Thank you so much for coming to the château, Kate, chérie. After the accident—’ The Countess broke off and made a small gesture with one hand as if to signal her inability to discuss the tragedy. ‘I only ever leave my room now to come down and see my plants,’ she explained in a voice husky with emotion. ‘Guy thought I might be on my way down. It’s my usual time.’

‘But you can’t remain isolated like that,’ Kate declared impulsively. ‘You must come to the cottage and visit me.’ She took the old lady’s free hand in a firm grip and squeezed it encouragingly.

‘I never leave the château,’ the Countess explained apologetically, shaking her head. ‘I don’t feel safe—not since the accident.’

‘You’ll feel safe with me,’ Kate promised fervently.

‘We’ll see,’ the Countess said wistfully. ‘Will you take me back now, Guy? Come with us, Kate. Guy will take you home when he has seen me to my room.’

On impulse, Kate lifted the Countess’s hand to her lips. ‘I’ve missed you,’ she said shyly.

The Countess stroked her hand down Kate’s hair as she studied her face with a still clear gaze. ‘And I’ve missed you, my dear Kate. More than you know.’

‘You look as if you’ve lost a penny and found a pound,’ Megan exclaimed as they clashed pots together in the sink the next morning.

Kate touched her hands to her cheeks, remembering her visit with the Countess that had more than made up for her lapse of control with Guy. Fortunately, with his mother uppermost in both their minds, she had been spared his teasing on the drive home. Megan’s face lit up at the news of Kate’s encounter with the Countess. ‘It might not be much,’ she said wisely when Kate explained how short and unusual her visit had been, ‘but it’s the first small step towards recovery. Now we have to persuade her to visit us here at the cottage.’

‘How’s your migraine?’ Kate enquired, although Megan looked as fit as a fiddle.

‘Never mind that. Do I detect a feverish glow in those emerald eyes of yours?’ Megan countered. ‘And don’t tell me that’s a love-bite on your neck?’ she said, furiously working the wire wool over the frying pan.

‘I don’t know what you imagine, but I can assure you that Guy has no romantic interest in me whatever. And, as for a love-bite—’ Fat chance! Kate thought ruefully. ‘I just rubbed myself too hard with the towel this morning after my shower.’

‘If you say so—’

‘I do say so.’

‘Ah, well then.’ Megan sighed. ‘But did my little ruse work?’ she demanded, keeping her eyes fixed resolutely on her task.

‘Your little ruse?’

‘That’s right,’ Megan said as she lifted her head to quiz Kate. ‘You see, I thought that if I just left you with him…’

‘You left me on purpose!’ Kate exclaimed incredulously. ‘How could you do that? How could you leave me alone with Guy?’

‘I made such a mess of everything earlier—scattering those paint brushes—I just thought if I left the two of you alone together it would solve all your problems.’

Kate’s facial expressions ran the gamut from surprise and then on to amusement as she realised what Megan was getting at. ‘What? Buy him off with my body, you mean?’

‘It’s a thought…’

‘Megan! If it was anyone but you…’

‘Well, it isn’t,’ Megan said gruffly.

‘I know,’ Kate said, giving her a hug. ‘You’re as bad as ever.’

‘I certainly hope so.’

‘But, for your information…’

‘Yes?’ Megan prompted eagerly.

‘Nothing happened,’ Kate said flatly. And that was all she was prepared to admit, even if Megan was giving her one of her special narrowed eyes looks. And it was thanks to Guy’s self-control rather than her own shaky willpower that she was able to make that proud assertion at all, she realised ruefully.

‘Pity.’

‘You’re impossible, Megan O’Reilly.’ Kate sighed with exasperation. ‘Sleeping with Guy isn’t the answer.’

‘Not for you, maybe, but for every other woman on the planet.’

‘He doesn’t want me, I’ve told you that already,’ Kate asserted, determined to shoot Megan’s grand plan out of the sky once and for all. ‘He’s only playing games with me—just like he always has done. And, if following some extreme lapse of judgement I did sleep with him, how do you think he would react when he found out that I had pulled the wool over his eyes?’

‘And you really think you can do that?’

‘What?’

‘Pull the wool over his eyes,’ Megan said, clearly unconvinced.

‘Well, I can try,’ Kate said, feeling dejected too suddenly as she contemplated the enormity of the task she had set herself. It was one complication she could certainly do without.

‘Have you not tried to talk him round?’

‘There’s no point,’ Kate said. ‘He’s absolutely adamant.

‘Ah, well then.’ Megan sighed with a frown. ‘If direct confrontation won’t work, we’ll just have to let him get used to the idea slowly.’

It was perhaps as well Megan had no idea what they were up against, Kate thought. Even without Guy’s disapproval, it was one thing expecting Megan to see her way around the cottage with candles in the evening, but it was quite another to expect paying guests to do the same. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll work something out,’ she said, hoping to sound more confident than she felt.

‘That’s my girl.’

As she gave Megan a quick hug, Kate remembered how much was at stake for her friend. ‘I’ll show you,’ she promised fiercely.

‘Of course you will,’ Megan murmured soothingly. ‘Of course you will, my pet.’

The single imperative bleep of Kate’s mobile phone drove them apart. ‘I don’t suppose you’d like to answer that?’ Kate suggested wryly.

‘Not a chance,’ Megan retorted, matching her mood with a lopsided grin.

Kate hesitated a moment and then picked up the phone.

‘Well?’ Megan demanded after a lengthy period of thoughtful hums from Kate, mingled with some muted agreement. ‘Who was it?’

‘Madame Duplessis,’ Kate revealed in a voice taut with surprise and pleasure. ‘Madame le Comtesse has asked whether she might pay us a short visit…’

‘I told you,’ Megan broke in excitedly. ‘She’s going to take the first step to recovery, thanks to you.’

‘That’s overstating my involvement,’ Kate said. ‘It was Guy who brought us together.’

‘But it’s up to us now to do all we can to help her,’ Megan pointed out.

‘I know,’ Kate agreed.

‘That poor woman hasn’t been out of doors since the accident,’ Megan went on, ‘and that’s more than six months ago now.’

‘I’m as anxious about her as you are.’

‘It’s up to us to heal her spirit—bring her here and then…’

Megan’s eyes were dancing with enthusiasm and Kate hated to bring her down to earth. ‘Take her into our confidence?’

‘Yes, why not?’ Megan agreed passionately. ‘Maybe she can talk Guy round for you.’

‘No,’ Kate said firmly. ‘The last thing Guy’s mother needs is to be drawn into a dispute between us.’

‘She’s made of stronger stuff than you think,’ Megan said directly.

‘I’m not prepared to risk upsetting her,’ Kate said. ‘And, whatever you say to try and make me feel better about all of this, just remember, I’m misleading her son.’

‘Oh, pish!’ Megan said dismissively. ‘Guy will survive.’

‘Maybe,’ Kate murmured, unconvinced, wondering if her friendship with him would too. When she had inherited the property she had taken Guy’s support for granted. Now she could see how rash she had been. But the last thing she had been expecting was for him to forbid her the right to develop the cottage as she wanted. Suddenly it seemed as if Aunt Alice’s loving gesture might well backfire and be the one thing that drove Guy away from her. ‘I can hardly pretend I don’t know anything about the covenants,’ Kate reasoned. ‘But to be honest with you, Megan, I haven’t even read through them properly yet…’

‘What?’ Megan exploded. ‘Now, that really isn’t like you, Kate. You must be either ill or in love.’

‘I don’t need to read them to know—Guy’s issued more than enough warnings and I’m certain he’s absolutely determined to enforce them,’ Kate protested.

‘Ach!’ Megan said dismissively. ‘Guy’s used to issuing instructions, that’s all—used to having them obeyed too, I dare say. But then he’s been spared your company for ten years or so, Kate. He’ll just have to get used to big-time confrontations all over again.’

Kate’s laugh was dry and humourless. She knew it wasn’t going to be that easy. Megan had no idea how strong-minded Guy could be when he had the bit between his teeth. But now the thought of Guy with anything between his teeth brought the blood rushing back to Kate’s cheeks—something Megan picked up right away.

‘Guy didn’t—you know? Last night,’ she began awkwardly.

‘You didn’t miss a thing after you were carted back here,’ Kate said reassuringly.

‘Carted back?’ Megan exclaimed. ‘Well, I suppose a taxi, however comfortable, can’t compare with Guy’s limousine.’ Her eyes went dreamy for a moment. ‘Not when that limousine is chauffered by a very nice man wearing uniform—and a cap, if you please.’

‘I can see you enjoyed the night at least,’ Kate said dryly.

‘Don’t try and tell me you didn’t,’ Megan countered shrewdly, and then her eyebrows lifted almost to her hairline when Kate’s mobile rang again. ‘Aren’t you going to answer that?’ she prompted, watching Kate hesitate. ‘You’ve certainly perfected the art of the silent phone call,’ Megan observed dryly when Kate finally broke the connection. ‘And now have you taken the vow of silence?’ she prompted hopefully, exhibiting more than her usual degree of amused frustration.

‘I’m sorry,’ Kate murmured distractedly, thinking about the call. Guy had been brief, noncommittal. On the face of it he had called just to make sure she had enjoyed the evening. Her thank-you note was already written and waiting to be posted. She had hoped to keep things formal. But in his voice she had detected a chord she hadn’t heard before—hard to explain, but like a seedling in the grit. He was prepared to forgive her. He had taken for granted the fact that she would accede to his demands not to run a business at the cottage. After all, why should she? She had made plenty of money already. But Freedom Breaks was a lot more than just a commercial venture for her. It was a mission to bring life back to the cottage; to restore the sanctuary Aunt Alice had once created for her and to try and rebuild everything that had been lost six months earlier when Guy’s father had come to take Aunt Alice to the château in his new car and had lost control… But that was all in the past. Guy’s eye was on the future. And Kate knew his business plans didn’t allow for sentimentality.

Suddenly she had to get away, to try and make sense of it all. ‘Do you mind if I go for a walk?’ she said distractedly. ‘I won’t be long.’

‘Be as long as you like,’ Megan said staunchly. ‘There’s plenty here I can be getting on with.’

Kate took herself off to the place where she had enjoyed her first impromptu picnic with Guy on her return to La Petite Maison. She needed to be alone and there was something therapeutic about the cottage and its lovely gardens, gardens that stretched down to the stream and, now that they were loved again, combined just the right degree of informality and design. She only had to walk through them to feel the benefit—to soak up the calm. The days were drawing out, becoming warmer, while the sounds and the scents around her were stronger, more evocative… Childhood seemed close, almost within reach.

Those long days in the sun, viewing Guy from a discreet distance as he talked with his friends… Listening to the pitch of his voice as it rose and fell against a background of bee drone and adoring female laughter. How she had hated them, Kate remembered—those beautiful girls, so grown up and so sophisticated and every one of them vying for Guy’s attention, whilst she was still a child and a tomboy at that, with dirty knees and grass in her hair. But his voice had soothed her, lulled her, hypnotised her with its resonance and humour. And now since their talk at the château something much deeper than the tone of his voice was drawing her in. There was an intimacy between them that had not existed before. And with it came an understanding that only increased her longing to turn their lifelong friendship into something much more. But while he still saw her as a young tomboy that was never going to happen. She shook her head as she realised what a fool she had been.

It was one thing drawing up plans for the new business venture in an emotion free zone. It was equally insane to imagine that a relationship with Guy, Count de Villeneuve was ever going to be anything more than a light-hearted friendship… And if that friendship occasionally overstepped the mark? Guy withdrew at the double and made it quite plain that it was only a momentary lapse, Kate reminded herself. But how could she remain unmoved, or do nothing, when she saw how the tragedy had shaken him to the very core—when she felt his pain as her own? It had been futile hoping to restore Aunt Alice’s possessions; she could see that now. But the damage done by the accident to Guy and his mother was different; she could make at least some impression on that.

When Kate found her spot again she could almost imagine that no time had passed at all and that any moment Guy might arrive at the head of his troupe of friends. Kicking off her sandals, she sank on to a lush cushion of grass and wild herbs. Then, taking her time to select a succulent strand, she plucked it and, rolling on her back in the dappled sunlight, closed her eyes and began pensively to chew.

‘Penny for them…’

‘Guy!’ Shading her eyes with her hands as she looked up at him, Kate saw that he looked even more handsome than he had in her mind’s eye—and infinitely more desirable.

‘What brings you here? No, don’t get up. You look so comfortable there—so happy and contented. Are you happy, Kate?’

Guilt brought a frown to her face before she could do anything to stop it.

‘No?’ he queried softly, making her feel even worse with his concern.

‘Guy, the covenants…’ Kate began, determined to make an end of it there and then.

‘Pas maintenant,’ he said holding up his hands. ‘I’ve had enough of business for one day.’

As he swiped a gloved hand across the back of his neck she saw the tension in his face and fell silent again. ‘What are you doing here?’ She could see he’d been riding. Riding hard, to judge by the state of his dust-streaked shirt. He tugged off his riding gloves and dropped them on the ground as she pulled herself up into a sitting position. She found herself facing legs planted either side of her, legs that were moulded in some close-fitting fabric that showed every contour and every curve of his hard muscles.

‘I asked you first,’ he reminded her.

Her throat felt dry. His voice was firm, demanding, his eyes narrowed in speculation as he waited for her answer. And when she stared into the sun and tried to summon up an explanation, he dropped to his knees beside her and took hold of her hands. ‘Don’t look so worried,’ he insisted, a wry smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. ‘It’s a beautiful day. Be happy, Kate.’

She wanted to tell him then—tell him everything. But as he drew her close she could think of nothing except being in his arms. But his embrace was not the touch of a lover—it was something more, yet a lot less. It was something unique and precious, like the bittersweet kernel of happiness that blossomed inside her every time he was near, but it was controlled and chaste too, so that at the same time it answered all of her needs and none. But if this were all it could ever be, she would take it. ‘I am happy,’ she whispered, nestling into him, feeling his steady heartbeat against her face.

‘Do you mind?’ he said, letting her go at last to finger the buttons on his shirt.

‘Mind?’

‘If I take my shirt off.’

Kate longed to reach out to him and tackle each small tan horn button one by one…slowly. It didn’t take much to imagine how it might feel to slide the black shirt off the wide sweep of his shoulders, to feel the warmth of his skin under her fingers, to become familiar with the texture and revel in the strength of him… And then she would release it from the waistband of his breeches…

‘You’re sure you don’t mind?’ he repeated.

‘No, of course I don’t mind,’ she said, proud of herself for sounding so rational.

Guy gave a sigh of satisfaction as he tossed his shirt to one side. ‘C’est bon,’ he said, contentedly stretching out beside her.

Did he have any idea—any idea at all? Kate wondered, trying not to make it obvious as she eyed his incredible physique. His legs she already knew about, having studied them in some detail—but his stomach, she saw now, was completely flat and like his broad chest banded with muscle. There was a shading of dark hair on his tanned chest whose narrowing strip drew the eye down to where it disappeared above the fastenings on the waistband of his breeches…and it was possible to see beyond that without even appearing to look. Kate gasped as he shifted position, but he was only picking out his own strand of grass to suck. As he slipped it between his firm lips, for one heady moment she considered launching herself at him—but she knew he would only make a joke of it, so she settled back with her head on the grass… Close enough to hear him breathing, but far enough away to keep a hold on what remained of her sanity.

‘It was good to have you at the château last night,’ he said lazily, almost as if it was too much effort to speak. ‘Did you enjoy yourself?’

Had she enjoyed herself? How could she begin to tell him? Kate wondered, pausing before she spoke. ‘It was a wonderful moment when your mother walked in.’

‘As it was for her to see you,’ Guy said softly. ‘I can assure you of that.’

‘And the meal was delicious, the wine too,’ Kate said as every moment came flooding back in minute detail. ‘And the setting is superb, but then, of course, you know that.’ She stopped as he hummed a response that seemed to demand more from her. But what more could she say? When Megan had left for the cottage the air had been charged with something indefinable—something of her own conjuring, she knew that now. At the time she had thought it a tension they both felt—but now she knew she was wrong. Oh, he had kissed her—on the cheek when he took her home. But earlier, when she had tried to make it something more, he had taken her wrists in a careful grip and gently pushed her away. Of course, there was still the puzzle of that one kiss, the first kiss on her return… There had been nothing remotely chaste about that…

‘Daydreaming, Kate?’

Now it was her turn to hum a noncommittal response that answered nothing.

‘Last night,’ Guy prompted patiently, leaning on one elbow to look down at her. ‘Was it all right for you?’

Right question, wrong occasion, Kate thought ruefully, smothering a smile as she rolled away from him on to her stomach. ‘I had a wonderful evening. So did Megan.’

‘That’s good,’ Guy murmured, trailing a strand of grass across the back of her neck, ‘because I’m thinking of asking you again.’

‘Really?’ Kate’s heart was thumping as she turned to stare up at him.