Exposed: Misbehaving with the Magnate

But Gabrielle shook her head. ‘I can’t,’ she said with a stubborn tilt to her chin that he remembered of old. ‘You heard her.’ Gabrielle smiled bitterly and swirled the brandy in her glass. ‘She doesn’t want me here.’

‘When last I checked,’ he said, his voice deceptively mild, ‘Luc, not Josien, was master of Caverness. There’s room for you here. There’s no need for you to stay in the village. Simone, I’m sure, will be glad of your company.’

‘And you?’ Gabrielle lowered the glass from her lips, and pinned him with a grey-eyed gaze that held more than a hint of pain. ‘Will you be glad of my company too? There was a time when you couldn’t wait for me to leave.’

‘You were sixteen, Gabrielle. And if you don’t know the reason behind my encouraging you to finish growing up elsewhere then you’re not nearly as smart as I thought you were. One more week and I’d have had you naked beneath me. In your bed or mine or halfway up the stairs, I wouldn’t have cared,’ he said bluntly. ‘And neither would you.’

He’d surprised her. Shocked her. He could see it in her eyes. ‘Well, then…glad we cleared that up.’ She took another sip of her brandy and set her glass carefully on the bench, as if even that small motion took up all of her control. ‘I suppose I should thank you.’

But she didn’t.

‘I lost my virginity to a handsome Australian farm boy when I was nineteen,’ she said in a low, ragged voice. ‘He was charming, and funny, and he made my pulse race and my body ache for more of him. He was everything a girl could wish for when it came to her first time, and it still wasn’t enough.’ Gabrielle headed for the door. Luc stood rooted to the spot. ‘I’ll be staying at the old flour mill for the next three weeks. If you could send word to me if my mother’s condition changes, I’d be very grateful.’

‘Why wasn’t it enough?’ Luc’s throat felt tight, the words came out raspy, but he had to know. ‘Gabrielle, why did he disappoint you?’

He didn’t think she was going to answer, but then she turned as she reached the door and speared him with a glance that held more than its share of self-mockery. ‘I really don’t know. Maybe he just wasn’t you.’

Luc waited until she’d shut the door behind her before he let his curses fly. He was a man who took pride in his self control. He’d worked hard for it; fought against his deepest nature to secure it. Only one woman had ever made him lose it. The results had been disastrous for all concerned. Josien had been hysterical, his father aghast, and Gabrielle…innocent, trusting Gabrielle had been exiled.

She’d lost her virginity to a handsome Australian.

Fury roared through him as he picked up his glass and flung it at the fireplace, his temper only marginally appeased when the glass exploded in a burst of glittering crystal shards.

CHAPTER TWO

‘YOU shouldn’t have said that.’ Gabrielle had a habit of talking to herself whenever she felt stressed. She’d been talking to herself ever since she’d set foot back in France. Her footsteps made a crunching sound as she hurried across the gravel courtyard towards her hire car, every step taking her further away from Caverness and the people in it. She needed to leave before she broke down completely. She needed to leave this place now.

Gabrielle made it back to the village without mishap. She drove on the correct side of the road and didn’t lose her way. She even observed the speed limit. And when she got to the old mill house she locked herself inside her room before finally giving in to weariness and sinking back on the bed with her forearm across her eyes, as if by blocking her sight she could block out the memory of her conversation with Lucien. ‘You should not have said that.’

It had been seven years since she’d last seen Luc. Seven years of complete indifference on his part. No phone calls, no letters, no contact. Not once. A sixteen-year-old girl had deduced from Luc’s actions that he’d simply been playing with her when he’d kissed her all those years ago. That the housekeeper’s daughter had meant nothing to him.

Not once, not once, had it ever occurred to her that Luc had been trying to protect her from a relationship she’d been nowhere near ready for.

Still wasn’t ready for if her recent reaction to him was anything to go by.

So she had money behind her now, and self-esteem, and a good deal more to offer a man on an intellectual level. That still didn’t equip her to deal with the likes of Luc Duvalier. Luc, whose brooding black gaze could make her forget every ounce of self-preservation she’d ever learned.

How many minutes in his company had it taken her to test the strength of her physical reaction to him? Two minutes, or had it been three? How long had it taken her to lay herself bare for him? Telling him that her first lover had been a disappointment to her. Gabrielle groaned and rolled over onto her side, burying her head in a pillow and pulling the blue chenille bedspread around her for comfort. What kind of woman told a man that?

A woman who’d never quite forgotten the ecstasy and the agony of a single stolen kiss, said a voice that would not be silenced.

A woman who’d known all along that no one at Caverness would bid her welcome and mean it.

A fool.

Luc didn’t usually wait impatiently for his sister to return home from her work, but this day he did, seeking Simone out in the kitchen, never mind the box of fresh fruit and vegetables in her arms or the fact that she hadn’t yet managed to put the box down.

‘Bonjour, brother of mine,’ she said cheerfully. ‘I come bearing good food and even better news. The sales figures are finally in and we,’ she said, setting the bags on the counter with a flourish, ‘had a very good quarter.’

‘Congratulations,’ he said, but something in his voice must have alerted Simone to his turmoil for she turned sharply, set the box down on the bench, and took her time looking him over.

‘Something’s wrong,’ she said warily. ‘What is it?’

‘Josien had a visitor this afternoon.’

‘Who?’

‘Gabrielle.’

Luc watched his sister’s face light up with wry resignation. Simone and Gabrielle had been close as children. Closer than sisters, never mind the huge gap in social standing between them. ‘Gaby is here?’ asked Simone. ‘Here as in here at the chateau? Where?’

‘Here as in staying in the village, and before you start in on my manners, yes, I offered her a room, which she declined. Dammit, Simone! Why didn’t you warn me that you’d sent for her? And why the hell didn’t you tell Josien?’

Simone’s expression grew guarded. ‘I left a message on Gaby’s answering machine saying her mother was ill. That’s all I did. What was there to tell?’

‘You knew she’d come,’ muttered Luc darkly.

‘I thought she’d call first.’

‘Well, she didn’t.’

‘So what happened?’ asked Simone warily.

Luc gave it to his sister straight. ‘Josien wouldn’t talk to her. Wouldn’t even look at her.’

A barrage of swear words followed his announcement, none of them becoming to a lady. ‘So then what happened?’ demanded Simone. ‘Did you make Gabrielle feel welcome?’

‘Sort of.’

‘Sort of? For heaven’s sake, Luc, you’re a grown man! Would it have killed you to behave like one?’

‘I did behave like one,’ he said grimly.

Simone halted, midway between the fridge and the counter. ‘Oh, hell,’ she said. ‘You still want her.’

Luc didn’t deny it. What he didn’t reveal to his sister was just how intense his desire for Gabrielle had been. He’d barely been able to control it. And he needed to. ‘Gabrielle needs a friend right now, Simone, and it can’t be me,’ he said gruffly. ‘I don’t want to do wrong by her again.’

Simone’s gaze softened. ‘Dear heart,’ she said. ‘The way I remember it, you’ve never done Gaby wrong. Others have—most certainly they have. But not you.’

‘You’re a little biased,’ he said.

Simone smiled. ‘Only a little.’

‘She’s staying at the old mill house,’ he offered next and exhaled his relief as his sister upended a wicker basket full of oranges onto the counter and hastily started refilling it with a variety of foodstuffs from the refrigerator. ‘You’re going after her?’

‘Of course I’m going after her,’ said Simone. ‘Isn’t that what you want? Somebody has to make her feel welcome.’

* * *

Gabrielle woke to the sound of vigorous pounding on her door. She sat up with a groan, slung her legs over the side of the bed, and pushed the heavy fall of dark curls from her face before checking her wristwatch for the time. Eight p.m. French time and the early hours of the morning by Australian reckoning. She’d slept for almost three hours. Now she’d never get back to sleep for the night. ‘Who is it?’

‘Simone,’ said yet another voice from her past, albeit a voice currently heavy with impatience. Gabrielle went to the door and unlocked it gingerly before swinging it open. She didn’t know if she could cope with any more blasts from the past today. Between them, Luc and Josien had proved quite sufficient. She stared for a moment at the elegant raven-haired beauty in the navy-blue suit, trying to reconcile the image of cool sophistication standing before her with the hoyden that had been Simone. And then she saw the magnum of champagne in the woman’s left hand and the basket full of delicacies at her feet and knew that the hoyden was alive and well beneath those daunting designer clothes.

‘Look at you, sleepyhead,’ said Simone, and Gabrielle found herself enclosed in a warm and perfumed embrace. ‘I couldn’t believe it when Luc told me you’d come home. Why didn’t you call me? I’d have picked you up from the airport. I’d have made all the arrangements. Oh, look at you!’ Tears gathered in Simone’s expressive brown eyes. ‘I always knew you’d grow to be even more beautiful than your mother. It was always there. In your eyes; and in your heart.’ Simone pulled back. ‘Luc told me what happened with Josien, Gaby. I could strangle her. Josien did call for you, I swear she did. I thought she wanted to make amends. I’d have never left that message for you otherwise. Never.’

‘I know,’ said Gabrielle. ‘I knew my welcome would probably be somewhat…cool. But I came anyway. You must think I’m crazy.’

‘No,’ said Simone gently. ‘Not crazy. Hopeful. I made us a picnic,’ she said, stepping back to the door to retrieve her basket. ‘And I don’t care where we eat it.’ She hefted the magnum up to eye level to reveal the label. ‘The day you left I stole two bottles of our oldest and finest and hid them in the caves. I swore on my sainted mother’s grave that the day you returned we would drink one of them. Of course, I never expected you to stay away so long. What kept you?’

Gabrielle felt her lips curve, she couldn’t help it. Finally, a welcome without restraint. ‘I was busy growing up and carving out a life for myself in Australia,’ she said dryly. ‘And I want to know what you’re saving the second bottle for.’

‘You’ll see,’ said Simone. ‘About this picnic… Shall we eat it here on the bed or shall we dine somewhere where we can see the clouds? We could head for our old picnic spot.’

‘So we could.’ Gabrielle eyed Simone’s attire sceptically. ‘You look every bit the successful businesswoman you always vowed you’d be, but are you sure you’ll be able to walk up the track in those shoes without breaking your neck?’

Simone looked down at her stiletto-clad feet and frowned. ‘You’re right. I really hadn’t thought this through. Luc shoved me out of the house so fast I forgot to change clothes.’ She stared at the small double bed, then cast her eye around the poky little room. ‘I lied. I do care where we eat and this isn’t the place. We’ll have to go back to Caverness so I can change clothes.’

‘No,’ said Gabrielle hastily. ‘No way. I’m sorry, Simone. I’ll meet you up at our picnic spot if you like, but I’ve had enough of Caverness for one day.’ If Gabrielle went back to the chateau right now she’d only start throwing things again. Namely herself. At Luc.

‘It’s just a house,’ said Simone, and, at Gabrielle’s level stare, ‘Okay, a castle. A very big castle.’

‘No.’

‘I’ll smuggle you in and smuggle you out,’ said Simone. ‘Just like the old days. No one will ever know.’

‘Luc would know.’ He’d always known.

‘All right then,’ said Simone. ‘Let’s approach this like rational, sensible, intelligent women. I’ll just borrow your clothes and get changed here.’

‘I like it,’ said Gabrielle. ‘But I’m warning you I shopped for clothes in Singapore on the way over and had to sit on my suitcases to get them to shut. There’s wreckage within those cases that I’m not sure you’re ready for. There’s chaos in there that I’m not sure I’m ready for.’

‘Unleash it,’ said Simone, and released the champagne cork quietly and without spilling a drop of the precious liquid. ‘I live for chaos.’ Setting the magnum on the bedside table, Simone began to rummage through the basket at her feet. ‘I could have sworn I put some champagne flutes in here somewhere. Special picnic ones.’

‘Plastic ones?’ said Gabrielle.

‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ said Simone. ‘Heathen. Where have you been living these past seven years? Ah, here they are.’ She brandished them aloft with a flourish. ‘Not plastic. Polish crystal. Perfectly shaped, beautifully balanced, and as delicately made as petals on a rose. Plastic champagne flutes,’ muttered Simone with a shudder as she filled the two glasses and handed one to Gabrielle. ‘God help us and welcome home.’

They ate atop the highest hill in the area, surrounded by grapevines and with the rooftops of the chateau spread out below them, and, in the distance, the rooftops and church spires of the village.

‘What will you do while you’re here?’ asked Simone after the last crumbs of cheese had been nibbled and the last sliver of pâté had been devoured. ‘Luc said you planned to stay in the area for a few weeks.’

Gabrielle nodded. ‘I came here on business as well as to see Maman. Rafe and I make wine these days.’

‘Oh?’ said Simone, her voice a little too offhand to actually be offhand. ‘What kind of wine?’

‘Cabernet sauvignon, mostly, and some cabernet merlot. For the high end of the market and worth every cent. We’re looking to extend our export opportunities into Europe and set up a distribution arm. It makes sense to look for premises in the place we know best.’

‘Rafael wishes to return?’ said Simone.

‘No. Not Rafe. Just me.’

‘Oh.’

‘Don’t sound so disappointed.’ Gabrielle slid Simone a sideways glance.

‘I’m not disappointed,’ said Simone with a toss of her head. ‘Not at all. I’m just…curious. What kind of operations base are you looking for? Business premises or residential property?’

‘Both.’

‘With or without land attached?’

‘Depends on the land,’ said Gabrielle. ‘Why?’

‘The old Hammerschmidt vineyard is on the market,’ said Simone. ‘The vines are in a dreadful state, the winemaking equipment is fifty years out of date, and the house needs a lot of attention, but the cellars are good and the location is excellent. Luc’s been looking into acquiring it.’

‘Really?’ said Gabrielle dryly. ‘And you’re telling me this why?’

‘Because it would probably suit your purposes.’

‘If it did I’d be in direct competition for the property with Luc.’

‘Really?’ said Simone airily. ‘Could be fun.’

‘For whom?’ said Gabrielle. ‘Seriously, Simone, I appreciate your help but where’s your sense of family duty? Your loyalty to Luc and to your family business? There was a time you put loyalty to family before your own happiness. Where did that Simone go?’

Simone’s expression grew shuttered. ‘That Simone grew up to regret not holding tight to her happiness with both hands. I’m older now. Wiser.’

‘Trickier,’ murmured Gabrielle.

‘That too.’ Simone sipped at her champagne and stared at the valley spread out before her, half of which she owned. ‘So how is he?’ she said tentatively. ‘Rafael.’

‘Driven,’ said Gabrielle with a wry twist of her lips.

‘Is he happy?’

‘I really don’t know.’

‘Is he married?’

‘No.’ Gabrielle took pity on her childhood friend and gave her the information she sought. ‘He’s had a few relationships over the years. Less than he could have had. Nothing he ever put before his work.’ Gabrielle sipped at her champagne. ‘He’s building an empire,’ she said softly. ‘Proving his worth, over and over, to a mother who never loved him, an heiress who wouldn’t believe in him, and a best friend who didn’t support him.’

‘That’s not a fair call, Gabrielle.’ Simone’s voice was low and tight. ‘It wasn’t like that.’

‘I know,’ said Gabrielle. ‘And on an intellectual level, Rafe would agree with you. He knows Luc’s hands were tied when it came to setting up in business with him. He’s quite capable of admitting that you and he were far too young to be thinking about marriage, let alone eloping to Australia. He says he works like a dog because he enjoys it. But if you ask me—and you did— the real reason he works so hard is that the ghosts from his childhood won’t let him stop.’

‘I think I need more wine,’ said Simone.

Gabrielle held out her own champagne flute as Simone reached for the bottle. ‘Hit me.’

‘Don’t tempt me,’ muttered Simone as she refilled Gabrielle’s glass and then her own. ‘We probably shouldn’t talk about brothers, you and me.’

‘No, we probably shouldn’t.’ Gabrielle smiled faintly. ‘By the way, I saw yours again today. I really thought I’d be able to handle it. Handle him. I couldn’t.’

‘I’m not surprised,’ said Simone. ‘I’ve yet to meet a woman who can. A word of advice, Gaby, from my heart to yours. Luc changed after you left. He grew up, grew tough, and got guarded. He’s not an easy man to know. Not an easy man to love. Believe me, plenty have tried.’

‘Is that a warning?’

‘More a plea to be careful,’ said Simone. ‘You used to be able to turn Luc’s head with a glance and I doubt you’ve lost the knack. Getting him to lay down his heart is a different matter altogether. Just…be careful.’

Gabrielle played with the blades of grass beneath her fingertips. ‘I didn’t come back for him, Simone. I don’t even know if I still want him. I haven’t forgotten what came of wanting him before.’

‘Neither has he,’ murmured Simone. ‘My advice was for if you were still interested in him. If you’re not, then maybe all you need do is talk with him about what happened all those years ago and see if you can both put it behind you. Maybe that’s the way to handle this.’

‘You mean be civilised,’ said Gabrielle. ‘Me and Luc.’

Simone’s lips twitched. ‘Yes.’

‘Civilised sounds wonderful,’ said Gabrielle wistfully. ‘Except for the dredging up the past bit. You don’t suppose there’s a way of being all civilised and restrained without bringing up the past at all?’

‘Well, you could try,’ said Simone thoughtfully. ‘Why don’t you come over to Caverness tomorrow afternoon and take a wander through the gardens with me? You could stay for a meal. Try again with Josien if you’ve a mind to, although I don’t fully recommend it. You could attempt a civil discussion with Luc. See if you can find common ground that isn’t rooted in the past. Ask his opinion on setting up a distribution arm here for your Australian reds. Make him feel useful. Men like that.’

‘Then what?’ said Gabrielle somewhat sceptically.

‘Then you mention your fiancé.’

‘I don’t have a fiancé.’

‘Not sure you need to mention that.’ Simone started grinning and it wasn’t because of the bubbles. ‘All right, forget the non-existent fiancé. Set the boundaries for your relationship with Luc some other way—but set them nonetheless. Maybe Luc will follow your lead.’

‘And if he doesn’t?’

‘Run,’ said Simone, and kept right on grinning. ‘Damn, I’ve missed you. Here’s to hilltop reunions, restraint when dealing with troublesome men, and laying to rest the ghosts of our past.’

‘Hear hear,’ said Gabrielle and lifted her near-empty not-plastic champagne flute to her lips. Where had all the champagne gone? ‘Restraint, you said?’

‘Civilised restraint,’ amended Simone. ‘Nothing to it. More champagne?’

Gabrielle hesitated. ‘Didn’t you just fill my glass?’

‘They’re very little glasses,’ said Simone sneakily. ‘May I remind you we’re talking Chateau Caverness 1955 here? This isn’t just any old champagne.’

Indeed it wasn’t. ‘All right,’ said Gabrielle, and reached for the magnum with what she thought was a great deal of restraint, never mind Simone’s descent into helpless laughter. ‘Maybe just one.’

CHAPTER THREE

AT FIVE pm the following afternoon, after an evening of laughter with Simone followed by half a day of sleep, Gabrielle drove, yet again, through the entrance to Chateau des Caverness and parked her car in the gravel courtyard next to the servants’ quarters. Ignoring the door to her childhood completely, she switched on her mobile and found the number Simone had keyed into the phone last night.

‘Where are you?’ she said when Simone answered the phone.

‘In the orchard, waiting for you,’ said Simone. ‘And if you’ve waited until now to tell me you’re not coming I’m going to be very very annoyed.’

‘I’m here,’ said Gabrielle. ‘I just didn’t want to walk through three acres of garden looking for you, that’s all. I’m not exactly wearing sensible shoes.’

‘Colour me intrigued,’ said Simone. ‘I thought you’d be wearing something restrained.’

‘I am wearing something restrained,’ said Gabrielle. Her square necked knee-length plum-coloured sundress was very restrained. She’d even plaited her wayward hair and woven it into a heavy bun on top of her head, princess style, and secured it with a thousand pins. She’d followed up with the application of very subtle, very expensive, make-up and only the merest dash of her favourite perfume. She was a walking, talking picture of stylish restraint. ‘Except for the shoes.’

The leather sandals with their delicate straps and flimsy heel were an exercise in idiocy. Idiocy being the word that summed up Gabrielle’s thoughts on accepting Simone’s invitation to tour the gardens and stay for dinner afterwards. Civilised restraint was all well and good in theory. Putting it into practice was hard.

‘Take your shoes off, then, and come around the front way on the grass,’ suggested Simone.

‘That’s not exactly civilised,’ said Gabrielle. ‘It’s a little unrestrained.’

‘Do it anyway,’ said Simone with a snicker. ‘Get all that wild abandon out of your system now so that when you happen across Luc there’ll be none left for him.’

‘You’re making a surprising amount of sense,’ muttered Gabrielle.

‘I always do,’ said Simone as Gabrielle reached the stone wall, slipped off her shoes, and stepped through the archway and into the formal front gardens. There’d been a box-hedge maze in here years ago. A maze that had towered high over her head and had provided endless hours of play for all the children of Caverness; her and Simone as well as Rafael and Luc. To Gabrielle’s delight, the maze was still there, although these days it didn’t tower over her but stood chest high so that a person could see the summer gazebo at its centre.

‘You kept the maze,’ she said into the phone.

‘I kept the maze,’ said Simone. ‘You want to do this tour by phone or are you actually planning to converse face to face?’

‘Picky picky,’ murmured Gabrielle. ‘I brought a few things for the dinner table. I’ll put them on the terrace on the way round. See you soon.’

Sandals in one hand, goody bag in the other, Gabrielle skirted the maze and headed through the formal statuette garden towards the grand entrance to the chateau. Gabrielle’s footsteps slowed when she saw that the terrace was already in use, but then she squared her shoulders and continued on her path. The grey stone steps were cool and hard beneath her feet after the softness and warmth of the summer grass, but she would not linger long, and she did not put her shoes on. ‘Good afternoon, Maman, Hans,’ she said to the seated pair. Gabrielle glanced warily at the third person to complete the tableau. Luc wasn’t sitting and didn’t look as if he had been sitting with the others. He looked as if he’d been simply passing by and had merely stopped for a word. ‘Luc.’