At the Chateau for Christmas

“My grandfather would expect me to accommodate you.”

“But this will be putting you out.”

Now she was going polite on him? He frowned. Was it part of her act? Whatever, she was doing a good job of it. “Au contraire. Since you want to talk to him, something I didn’t expect from you, my grandfather would never forgive me if I ignored your request and let you get away.”

Nic hated to admit it to himself, but he was curious to see her again. Maybe the second time around she wouldn’t impact him in the same way as before. It was something he had to find out.

A pause ensued. “I know this is another one of those tasks you don’t want to do.”

He let go of the breath he was holding. “You’re wrong. This is the one Christmas present my grandfather hadn’t counted on.” If she was sincere, her arrival might just have saved Maurice from falling into a slump he’d never climb out of. Nic needed time to find out if avarice had brought her here or not. “Watch for me in front of the terminal. I’ll be driving a four-door black Mercedes.”

“I’ll be there.”

He heard the click. Making one of his gut decisions, Nic decided to take her to his house. That way no one in his family would know what was going on. Their disapproval of Maurice marrying a foreigner had never truly gone away.

Now the gorgeous granddaughter had arrived. Out of the frying pan...

Laura’s physical resemblance to Irene would be a doubly powerful reminder of the woman who’d captured Maurice’s heart. Depending on the outcome, more underlying animosity was in store. This had to be handled discreetly for now. Nic and his grandfather had always enjoyed a certain affinity. His loyalty to the older man had never been in question and he wasn’t about to desert him now.

Since his grandfather wouldn’t be eating dinner for several hours yet, Nic would make the phone call from his den once she was ensconced. They’d proceed from there.

He drove out of his parking spot and wound around the technology park to the main road leading to the airport. Day before yesterday he’d decided he wouldn’t be hearing from Ms. Tate again, but he hadn’t had the heart to tell his grandfather yet. Now he wouldn’t have to.

Though the sun had set, she wasn’t difficult to spot. Like Irene, she had incredible dress sense. When Nic pulled up to the terminal, he saw that Laura drew a lot of attention in a long-sleeved speckled-tweed jacket and slim skirt. The form-fitting dove-gray outfit had white lace appliqués and fringe trim on the jacket. The effect, combined with the silvery-gold glints in her hair, had captured his attention.

* * *

Her impact on him was even more forceful than the first time. He levered himself from the car and walked around. She carried only one suitcase. Nic helped her inside and stowed it in the backseat. A light, flowery fragrance assailed his senses. “You travel light.”

“I didn’t plan to be here more than a few days. Thank you for coming to get me, Mr. Valfort.” That sounded halfway sincere.

“Nic.” He was tired of the senseless formality.

“In that case, call me Laura. I made reservations ahead of time at the Boscolo Excedra. If you wouldn’t mind dropping me there.” That five-star hotel had recently been restored with a futuristic-themed bar. No surprise she knew about it.

“My grandfather wouldn’t hear of it. Maurice asked me to take care of you before I left for California. For the time being, you’ll stay at my home. I’ll drive you there now and we’ll get in touch with him.”

Nic felt her glance. “Does your wife know you’ll be bringing someone home with you? No woman likes to be unprepared for an unexpected guest.”

She’d noticed his wedding ring, of course. He pulled into traffic. “As it happens, my wife is away for the present.” She was away, maybe somewhere still on earth, but more likely in heaven. He had no proof of either status. “My staff will see to your comfort. If Dorine were here, she’d want to meet you.”

His wife hadn’t been a Valfort and she’d liked Irene very much. At this point he realized he’d been thinking of Dorine in the past tense for a long time now. No stone had been unturned, no expense had been too great to find out what had happened to her, but there’d been no trace. During the first year, he’d lived for news of her. But for the last two years, he’d had the feeling in his gut she was gone forever. Like Irene...

Before long he took a turnoff and entered a wooded area that led to his home overlooking the coast. Dorine had loved the setting on sight and begged him to buy it before their wedding took place. Not too small, not too large. Perfect for several children who hadn’t had time to come along. Empty as a tomb with no one home except the efficient husband-and-wife staff who took care of things.

* * *

Provence come to life!

This villa with its red-tiled roof looked like one of the fabulous Provençal properties featured in high-end magazines sold throughout the world. Laura’s eyelids smarted with salty tears when she realized Irene would have been here many times enjoying the cypress trees and view of the blue Mediterranean.

Laura had traveled to Europe on several occasions and had been to Paris, but she’d avoided the South of France for fear the temptation to drop in on her grandmother would be too great.

What a colossal fool she’d been to honor her mother’s wishes to such a great extent! In doing so she’d denied herself the opportunity to know the woman Laura’s grandfather Richard had loved and married.

“Does your mother know you’ve come?” Nic’s deep voice broke in on her anguished thoughts.

“Yes.” She bit her lip. “She couldn’t stop me. We had a fight.”

“You mean she tried to?”

“Yes, but I refused to listen. I told Mother she was inhuman to be upset with me now that Irene was dead. I wish I hadn’t said it, but I did. Now I have another regret to live with.”

There’d been unpleasantness with Adam, too. The man she’d been seeing over the last few months hadn’t wanted her to leave without him. He was getting much too serious. This unexpected trip would give her a needed break from him over the holidays.

His aggression had made her uncomfortable. Maybe her mom had been right—she’d hinted that Adam was ambitious and wanted more than her love. After the way he’d reacted before she’d flown here, Laura had begun to fear the same thing, considering a fortune lay behind her name. Because of the painful history that had beset the Holden family, she had major trust issues. Laura wasn’t sure she wanted to be with him anymore.

“Family loyalty has its price,” Nic murmured, sounding distanced. “You’d be surprised how many times in the past I had to stop myself from phoning to demand you come and visit your grandmother. She loved you a great deal, but my grandfather wouldn’t have approved, so I didn’t act on my instincts. He always hoped you’d come on your own.”

His admission tugged at her heart. “No matter how much I love my mother, I should have followed my instincts, too. Now it’s too late.” She moaned the words. “Sometimes family loyalty demands too much, in this case more than I can bear—”

At this point she had the impression he didn’t know if he could believe anything she said. That was trouble with a tragedy that had torn families apart. She didn’t know if she could believe anything he said, either, but she was here now. For the sake of the grandmother she’d always loved in her heart, she wanted some answers.

Laura got out of his car before he could help her. The best thing she could do was avoid getting too close so they couldn’t possibly touch. Despite his poor opinion of her, she was afraid her attraction to him wasn’t going to go away. It was madness that she felt this awareness of him. He was a married man, for heaven’s sake!

Nic reached for her suitcase and walked her to the entrance. The minute he opened the door to the foyer, a large manger scene placed on the credenza greeted her vision. Moving on into the living room, it felt as though she’d stepped into a painting by Matisse, her favorite Impressionist.

The interior reminded her of his work The Black Table. Wonderful dark flooring and beams set a backdrop for flowers, blue-and-white-colored prints, priceless ceramics and paintings. Beyond the French doors was a view of the sea dotted with sailboats, even though it was winter.

She wheeled around. “Your home is wonderful!” The compliment flew out of her mouth without conscious thought.

“Thank you.” He lowered her suitcase. The man had a brooding sophistication he didn’t seem to be aware of. “If you’d like to freshen up, there’s a bathroom off the guest bedroom on your left at the end of the hall.”

“Thank you.”

“Are you hungry? Thirsty?”

“I ate before I got off the plane, but maybe some coffee?”

“I’ll ask my housekeeper to prepare it and take your bag to your room.”

He was giving her the opportunity to compose herself. Nic had his emotions well under control—unlike Laura—and seemed to sense instinctively what she needed. The consummate host.

On her way back to the living room, she stopped to look at the photographs hanging in the hallway. One of the groupings caught her interest. The French-looking brunette in the photos had to be his wife. She was a cute little thing with stylish short hair. They were laughing together.

Laura couldn’t imagine feeling that happy and carefree. It depressed her that she’d never had a relationship like that. The more she thought about it, the more she knew she would have to end it with Adam. They didn’t bring out the best in each other. Look at the way Nic and his wife glowed in the photograph. You could feel their happiness.

Upset by her thoughts, she returned to the front room and found a tray of coffee and variety of cookies waiting for her. Nic was on the phone speaking his native tongue and stood behind one of the two sofas facing each other. Separating them was a tiled coffee table with a large copper tub filled with fresh-cut blue and red anemones.

While she waited for him, Laura wandered over to the doors. In the twilight, the terraced garden below the villa had taken on a surreal beauty.

“When your grandmother came to visit, she used to stand right there with that same expression on her face. She had several interests, especially gardening. Do you also have a green thumb, as you Americans say?”

He was good at making small talk. She needed to try, too. “I don’t know.” Laura had been studious in her growing-up years so she could go into her grandfather’s hotel business. It had been a man’s world then. Still was, in many ways. She had to work hard to make her mark, and spent a lot of time in the office. That’s where she’d met Adam, who was determined to rise to the top echelons of the company. They had that in common.

This trip to France hadn’t been on her agenda, but she’d seized at the opportunity to learn more about her grandmother. Laura had put her assistant in charge while she was gone, satisfied he could handle things for the few days she’d intended to be away.

She turned in Nic’s direction, bursting with questions. He was silent on several subjects, including his wife, but she needed to remember his personal life was his own. She felt his distrust, no doubt as great as her own. They were walking through a minefield, but especially after her rudeness to him in San Francisco, she had no right to expect information that was none of her business.

“Was that your grandfather on the phone?”

He nodded. “Maurice is coming now.”

CHAPTER TWO

LAURA SWALLOWED HARD. The man she’d been taught to hate would be here soon. What was the real truth about him and his affair with her grandmother? No one was all black or white. The muscles in her stomach started to clench with anxiety.

“The château in La Colle is only ten minutes away. Please help yourself to coffee while we wait.”

She sat across from Nic and sipped hers. “The word château conjures up images. Does it look like one of the Châteaux de La Loire?”

Nic eyed her over the rim of his cup with a bemused expression. “Would you believe me if I told you that when Maurice took her there for the first time, Irene thought he’d brought her to the château where Cinderella was born?”

This was the first time the man had allowed her to see behind that facade of suspicion. Laura couldn’t help but smile. “You made that up.”

He sat forward to reach for a cookie. One black brow lifted. “Ask my grandfather.” In the next breath he got up from the couch and walked into hall. When he returned, he handed her a five-by-seven photo in an antique frame, one she’d seen hanging among the others. “This is what the estate looks like. Hopefully it will satisfy your curiosity.”

With this picture he’d just extended an olive branch of sorts. Even if he wished his grandfather hadn’t put him in this position, she would take him up on it in order to uncover the truth. Nic had actually brought her to his home. She couldn’t have imagined it when they’d first met in California.

“Maurice said Irene lived for the day when you would come to visit and she would take you through it room by room, because you loved castles and princesses.”

“That’s true. I can’t believe she remembered that.”

He studied her for a moment, as if weighing her words. “Apparently you were taken with Cinderella, whose mean-spirited stepsisters had been cruel to her and made her sleep in the attic with the rats.”

“She told you all that? I do have a terrible aversion to rats. A married friend of mine has a little boy who loved the movie Ratatouille. I started to watch it with them, but I couldn—” She suddenly stopped talking. Good grief. She was babbling.

His mouth broke into the first genuine smile he’d given her. That’s when she realized how fabulous he was. Probably the most incredible looking and acting man she’d ever seen in her life. Laura had never met anyone remotely like him. Everything he said and did was starting to slide beneath her skin to draw her in. His wife had to be the luckiest of women.

Laura quickly looked down at the picture, only to cry out in wonder. After studying it, she lifted her eyes to him. “It does look like some of the pictures in my old fairy-tale book, the one my nana used to read to me. Your family home is beyond fabulous, Nic!”

“My great-grandfather Clement had the seventeenth-century château fully restored. He needed a lot of bedrooms and bathrooms so he could entertain business associates. There’s an original baronial-style fireplace, stone spiral staircases and an enviable wine cellar. The conical roof and spring-fed moat add the perfect ambience.”

“This is too much,” she cried softly. To think her grandmother had lived there for twenty-one years. “Did you love the château, too?”

“Bien sûr. My parents lived nearby. The whole Valfort clan congregated there whenever possible.”

“You must have had the time of your life!”

His smile slowly faded, letting her know his family had been in hell, too. That solemn pewter gaze of his traveled over her as if he were trying to figure her out. He had no idea that it sent an unwanted rush of guilty heat through her body. Heaven help her, but she was enjoying Nic too much in his wife’s absence. This had to stop.

All the talk about her grandmother having had an affair with Nic’s grandfather while she was still married to her first husband had horrified Laura for years. She couldn’t imagine getting involved with a married man. What would possess a woman to do that no matter how tempted?

Yet here she was feeling an attraction to this man who’d grown up disliking her and her family with the same disdain Laura had felt for his family. Was this how it had started with her grandmother? An attraction that eventually led to an addiction and in the end the two of them had thrown both families aside in order to be together?

One thing Laura did know. She shouldn’t be alone in this house with Nic any longer than necessary. Without realizing it, Laura pressed the photo to her chest, reminding herself that the only reason she was here was because of Irene. Not because of Maurice’s grandson, who was proving to be a disturbing distraction.

In a mournful tone she murmured, “My grandmother lived here all these years, yet I never once saw her after she married and moved away.”

Nic stood there with his powerful legs slightly apart, his hands on his hips in a male stance. “I heard many versions of the Holden-Valfort saga from my own relatives before I was grown up enough for my grandfather to sit me down and tell me the unvarnished truth about their situation.”

She lifted tormented eyes to him. “You condoned his version, whatever it was?”

Nic pursed his lips. “I love my grandfather without qualification. But I’d like to hear your version, if you’re willing to tell me. We’ll see if they match.”

She put the photo down on the table and got to her feet. “My grandmother disappeared from my life when I was six. I have a vague memory of her, but I know most of what I know from my aunt Susan, Mother’s elder sister, who has never married. She said that my grandmother had an affair with your grandfather even though his wife was still alive.”

“That would have been impossible!” Nic bit out.

“I’m just repeating what I was told. All this happened while my grandfather was battling cancer. Grandfather Richard died too young. Soon after his death, Maurice’s wife died, so he married my grandmother and they moved to France. Neither Susan nor my mother could ever forgive Irene for having an affair while their father was so ill.”

Nic’s face had darkened with lines, making her nervous to go on.

“They said your grandfather was an evil man whose ability to seduce her while his wife was still alive created the scandal. They told her to get out of their lives and never come back.

“When I grew old enough to understand what adultery meant, I could see why Mother and Aunt Susan had been so devastated. When I was told the truth, the bitter side of Mother’s nature came out. Our home was not a happy one.

“But over the years I’ve learned that no one is perfect and everyone makes mistakes. To remain so angry at my grandmother was wrong, no matter what she or your grandfather did. I told her I wanted to go see Irene. She forbade it.

“That’s when I suggested she get professional help, but she accused me of turning on her. It was awful. Every time I tried to reason with Mother, she’d shut me out and accuse me of not loving her.

“I made things worse when I tried to talk to my aunt Susan. She told me that if I ever attempted to get in touch with my grandmother, my mother wouldn’t be able to handle it and it could push her over the edge.”

The forbidding expression on Nic’s arresting face filled her with alarm. He moved closer. “That story is so wrong and twisted, it’ll tear my grandfather apart when he hears it.” To her shock he clasped her upper arms, drawing her to his hard muscled body. His intensity was a revelation. “Maurice is euphoric you’re here. Promise me you won’t tell him what you just told me.” A vein stood out in his neck. “Not yet, anyway.”

“I—I won’t say anything,” she stammered. Her silence on the subject appeared of the most supreme importance to him.

His energy drove through to her soul. He was close enough she felt the warmth of his breath on her lips. When she looked up, his dark gray eyes were pinpoints of pain. “Why did you really fly here?” he ground out. “Was the lure of the will so great, you had to find out what amount of money she left for you? Tell me the truth.” He gently shook her. “I can take it, but my grandfather can’t!”

She was devastated by his reaction. “I guess I’m not surprised by your accusation. Because of the hate on both sides, it appears you really don’t know one very important detail.”

“What’s that?” he demanded.

“My grandfather Richard left millions to our family—to me, personally. I’ve never wanted for money a day in my life and never will. The only thing I could never have was the joy of growing up around my grandmother. And though I’m loath to meet the man who took her away from us, I was determined to see what kind of man he is.”

Her eyes flashed with pain. “What kind of power does your grandfather wield to be able to entice her to give up her whole life in California and come live with him in France? She didn’t need money. My grandfather gave her everything!” Laura could tell her voice had risen. “Does that answer your question?”

A groaning sound came out of him.

“Mon Dieu,” he whispered, sounding utterly desolate. His hands slowly slid down her arms. But when he released her, she wasn’t ready. Her legs felt so insubstantial she grabbed for the wing-back chair so she wouldn’t fall.

While Laura was trying to recover from being held that close to him, she heard voices coming from the foyer. A woman and a man, both speaking French.

Shaken by the sound, she turned around and saw Nic’s housekeeper usher in Irene’s silver-haired husband from the photograph. He was dressed in a royal-blue sweater and cream-colored trousers.

In person he seemed young in demeanor for an eighty-one-year-old man whose face showed signs of recent grief. He was remarkably handsome and had passed on those genes to his grandson. Twenty-one years ago Laura’s grandmother had no doubt been swept right off her feet.

He crossed the room, staring at Laura with incredulity before he turned to Nic. “You must have seen it the minute you met her.” His French accent was more pronounced than Nic’s.

“Oui, Gran’père. Laura is most definitely Irene’s granddaughter.”

Maurice’s brown eyes swam with tears as they centered on Laura. “What she would have given to walk in this room and see you standing here! You’re ravissante, just like she was.”

From the first instant, all Laura could feel was love and warmth emanating from him. Though he and Irene had caused indescribable pain to her family, he couldn’t possibly be the man her mother and aunt had demonized. She cleared her throat, still shaken by those moments when Nic had reached for her in pain. “We meet at last.”

She had the sense he wanted to embrace her. Instead he held back and wept, pulling some tissues from his pocket. “It’s a miracle. When she passed away, I thought my allotment had run out, but it isn’t so. You’ve come. Please. Let’s sit.”

Once again she found a seat on one of the sofas. He sat next to Nic on the other. “How long have you been here?”

“I picked her up at the airport an hour ago,” Nic explained. “She made a reservation at a hotel, but I canceled it.”

She noticed Nic didn’t mention the name. He wanted to shield his grandfather from the fact that she’d chosen not to stay at the world-famous Valfort in Old Town. Laura hadn’t seen him do that. It must have been while she was looking at the photos in the hallway.

Maurice smiled. “Naturellement. You’ll come to the château tonight. I’m all alone, rattling around in the place.”

He wasn’t the kind of man who rattled. Irene’s husband seemed in excellent health. He was an exciting man, full of life and appeared athletic. She hadn’t known what to expect. Certainly not this.

“That’s very gracious of you, but I’d rather not impose when you weren’t expecting me.” No matter how taken she was by him at first glance, Laura wasn’t comfortable about accepting his hospitality. She wasn’t comfortable with Nic, either, for several reasons, but she’d had no choice.

Nic must have sensed her distress, because he said, “Laura’s staying with me tonight, Gran’père. The housekeeper has already made up one of the guest bedrooms for her. Tomorrow will be soon enough for the two of you to get better acquainted. Right now I believe she’s exhausted after her flight. It’s a long one across a continent and an ocean.”

Laura’s eyes met Nic’s for a second. She felt he was trying to break up this meeting, in the kindest way possible, of course. Was he still afraid she might say something about the will? She was pained over his suspicions, but she understood them. There’d been so much ugliness between the families—this was the result. Could they ever trust each other?