The Count's Challenge

by Christina Hollis

  ‘What would you like for breakfast, monsieur?’

  As she took a plate from a heated trolley she heard the soft click of his leather-soled shoes on the ancient stones. Then his hand covered hers and he took the plate from her unresisting fingers.

  ‘What happened to “Etienne”? And you aren’t one of my staff.’ He raised one fine, dark eyebrow in subtle amusement. ‘Concentrate on serving yourself, Gwen. I have something very different in mind for you.’

  Dragging his gaze away from her, he let it fall onto the breakfast display. As he did so he frowned, as though it was a chore diverting him from something much more pleasurable.

  ‘Try the crêpes. They’re the best you’ll ever taste.’ Lifting a warm croissant onto his own plate, he looked straight back at her.

  Gwen took one of the almost transparent pancakes onto her plate. Breakfast with Etienne in his suite was a once-in-a-lifetime experience, but the business part of her brain refused to let go. She felt it was her duty to find out what her customers enjoyed.

  ‘I’ll get my chefs to give you their recipe.’

  For the first time that morning Gwen’s smile was as confident as her reply.

  ‘Thank you. That’s very kind, but I’m quite happy with the one I use already. Everyone has their favourites.’

  Etienne looked at her carefully. Then he smiled. ‘Yes, and I’m no exception. I enjoyed last night, Gwen, as you may have noticed—several times.’ His afterthought was a wicked drawl.

  Until that moment she had been stealing little glances at him. Now she gave a nervous chuckle and stared resolutely at the breakfast display. Pretending that the choice between berries and syrup was almost as important as his comment, she tried to look cool, calm and composed. It was impossible. Etienne was standing so tall and serene beneath his native sun. She could hardly believe she had spent the night with him.

  ‘In fact, I’d like to make this a more regular arrangement,’ he continued.

  Gwen had been about to lift a spoonful of fresh fruit salad from a crystal dish. At his words she froze. A droplet of juice trickled down the bowl of the solid silver serving spoon, trembled at its lowest point for a second, and then dropped onto the snowy white tablecloth.

  ‘You want to what?’ she said faintly.

  ‘I have a lot of things on my mind, Gwen. I need distraction—something to take my mind off it all and restore my faith in human nature. Last night I found the perfect solution, in you. We would make a good team. I’m sure of it. With my support you would be released from all your obligations. There would be no need for you to slave away in a kitchen. You would be free to enjoy life as it should be lived, with no worries.’

  She gazed at him, so clearly puzzled that he laughed. When he did that it made her smile, although she still shook her head in bewilderment.

  ‘What do you mean, Etienne?’

  ‘Exactly what I say. I’m so delighted to have found you, chérie, it would be my pleasure to provide for you, financially. I don’t want you waiting on other people. I want to keep you all to myself, and support you in the way you deserve.’

  He was seducing her all over again, simply by using his deliciously accented voice and the promise in those beautiful dark eyes.

  Gwen had thought it was impossible for her to be any more nervous. Now the butterflies in her stomach were under attack by a snake of suspicion. She might have been physically innocent when she met Etienne, but growing up with older brothers had given her a basic understanding of the male mind. Preparing for the worst, she hoped for the best and asked slowly,

  ‘Why would you offer me money when we only met last night?’

  Taking her free hand, Etienne raised it to his lips and placed a delicate kiss on each of her fingers in turn. Then he looked deep into her eyes and delivered his reply with all the relish of a professional seducer.

  ‘I would have thought that was obvious, chérie.’

  CHAPTER FOUR

  ‘I want to keep you in my life, Gwen. As my mistress,’ Etienne added, since she was looking at him with something close to suspicion. ‘Think of the advantages. I could set you up with a restaurant—in Monte Carlo, maybe, where your Michelin-starred menus could dazzle the clientele downstairs while your body delights me in the apartment above…’

  His voice was a silken thread, drawing her into his plans. A furious blush began to rise from Gwen’s breasts. It was slow to kindle but flared in painful intensity as it reached her cheeks. Dropping the serving spoon with a clatter, she confronted him with eyes as hard as sapphires.

  ‘How dare you? You said our first kiss was an accident. You were right. Anyone can make a mistake, monsieur, but it takes a first-class philanderer to build on one and then dress it up with an offer like that!’

  He stared at her, totally unable to understand her reaction. ‘Gwen? You’re upset?’

  She glared back at him. ‘That’s an understatement!’

  Still mystified, he gave a particularly Gallic shrug. Acquiring a mistress had never been a problem for him before. Until now, his only difficulty had been tact when ending relationships. Gwen was introducing him to a whole new range of experiences. So far they had all been stellar. This was the first irritation. ‘But why should you take offence? It’s a perfectly natural arrangement. What’s your problem?’

  She glared at him. This was unbelievable. She’d just had the most sensuous night of her life and now it was all coming down to money! She felt her fairy tale quickly slipping out of her grasp. ‘I don’t want anyone controlling me! I ran away from home to escape all that. Now I’m making my own future.’

  ‘You ran away from home?’ He looked concerned. ‘How long ago was that?’

  ‘Last year.’

  That was when Etienne made his next mistake. He smiled. It was a miscalculation, because it did nothing to calm her down and everything to inflame her.

  ‘And don’t look at me like that! It’s not funny. I’m mad at you!’

  ‘You’re a grown woman, Gwen. You’re too old to run away! Why didn’t you simply say you left home?’

  ‘That’s not how my family see it,’ she said bitterly.

  Etienne was on her wavelength immediately. ‘Ah…trouble with the relatives?’ he said with all the weight of personal experience.

  ‘No—not at all. And that’s the problem. My family have always been far too protective for my liking. They’ve never wanted me to fail, so they’ve never wanted me to do anything. They want my life to be like them—far too good.’

  ‘That’s all I want, too,’ Etienne said in a silky voice, reaching for the cafetiere. ‘Let’s take a seat and discuss this over a coffee.’

  ‘If you’re only asking me to be your mistress, then there’s nothing to discuss,’ Gwen rallied, putting down her plate of crêpes untouched.

  ‘Why not? It’s the perfect solution.’

  ‘For you, maybe. You’ll have everything you want whenever you want it, with no strings attached.’ She could hardly believe what she was saying. All she wanted to do was step back into his arms but, amazed at her own courage and glad of her self-discipline, she was finally finding the courage to stand up for herself.

  ‘How can you say that, mon amour?’ He looked puzzled. ‘As my mistress, you’ll benefit from my generosity. You’ll have anything and everything you want, too. You can have expense accounts at all the stores you like. I could treat you to a nice little love nest in Paris, par exemple. We can live together there whenever I’m in the city. What is your heart’s desire? Name it and it’s yours. There’s no limit.’

  Gwen was aghast. ‘Well, there’s certainly no limit to your nerve! Is there nothing you won’t try? Unless it’s the idea of making an honest woman of me, as they call it back home.’

  He laughed. ‘Marriage, you mean? No, I’m afraid that will never be on offer. And there’s no need to look so shocked! You’ve found my Achilles’ heel, so the least I can do is to be honest with you. I was nearly caught in that honey trap onc
e before, chérie. No woman is going to hold me hostage like that again. You can have absolutely anything you like, except my signature on a marriage certificate.’ He chuckled. ‘Apart from that one small detail, my generosity knows no limit. Try me. Name your price.’

  Reaching for a napkin, Gwen wiped her hands and dropped it onto the table in a symbolic gesture.

  ‘It’s nothing you could buy, no matter how much money you’ve got, monsieur. I want my independence, and the chance to make my own way in the world. I don’t want to go through life being carried by anyone else.’

  Taking a step back, she took one last look at the temptation of him. It was almost impossible to make a stand, he made her body quiver just looking at her, but her principles were at stake. She had to harden her heart.

  ‘I escaped from one gilded cage. I’m not going to let myself be tempted into another. Au revoir, monsieur.’

  In a swirl of midnight-blue velvet, she was gone.

  Etienne never normally wasted time on breakfast. As far as he was concerned, it was something to restore his energy levels after a late night and before an early meeting. That was all. This morning there was a different reason most of his food went untouched. He moved to pour himself a second cup of coffee as Gwen stalked away through his suite. When the door slammed shut behind her, he turned his attention to the beautiful array of food laid out on the table. He didn’t normally linger over his selection, but today he had some time to fill. It wouldn’t be polite to start eating before Gwen returned. She would come fluttering back to him at any minute in a flurry of tears and apologies. Etienne was quite confident about that. It was what women did.

  He had a long wait. When he finally saw Gwen again, she was down in the courtyard. He caught sight of her briefly, storming away from his house with her beautiful dress billowing. She didn’t give him a backward glance. Marching down the drive, she disappeared from his sight.

  Etienne lowered his eyebrows in silent disapproval. Miss Gwyneth Williams really was one of a kind. This made her the first woman to abandon him of her own accord. He was always the one who made the decision to leave. He made the first move. Always. This was not going to plan. Gwen hadn’t even looked back so that he could give her a casual wave, dismissing her from his life for ever. She didn’t give me the satisfaction, he thought irritably, but his indignation was short-lived. Gwen Williams had satisfied him in quite another way. It was one that would live far longer in his memory. Her mind was her own, but her body must surely be his. He had seen it, and taken her, exactly as he had possessed so many other lovely things that caught his eye.

  She couldn’t be allowed to snatch it away.

  Etienne took his breakfast over to the dining table and sat down in solitary splendour to consider this. As always, the financial press lay beside his place. He usually read it from cover to cover. Today, for the first time in two years, it remained untouched. Instead, he worked his way through far more pastry, crêpes and fruit than he would normally eat.

  It was an attempt to distract himself from the enigma that was Gwen. In her anger, she had revealed something that only made him want her more. Until he’d met her, he had been confident he knew exactly what sort of woman could abandon a happy family. Angela Webbington had shown him how it was done. Yesterday, he had seduced Gwen in the delicious belief she was totally different from his ex-fiancée. Now he didn’t know what to make of his little Welsh wonder. Last night she had held him spellbound. This morning, his sweet and tender stranger had shown him a core of iron. He now knew she had the determination to walk away from blood relatives—family!—because they cared about her too much.

  Etienne shook his head in silent disbelief. If he could continue humouring his stepmother simply because it was his father’s dying wish, why couldn’t Gwen see how lucky she was? He wondered how it felt to be part of a normal family. The appalling woman who styled herself ‘Countess Sophie’ continued to dictate shopping lists onto his dead father’s exclusive headed notepaper, yet Etienne let her get away with it. That woman was so far beneath his contempt he didn’t bother registering his annoyance. Gwen Williams, on the other hand, had run away from something he envied. Etienne’s idea of family was people who liked you because they wanted to, not because it was their duty or because they hoped you’d remember them in your will. Why had Gwen run away? From people who wanted her with them? Did she need saving from herself—to be shown how important it was to have people who cared? If she did, he was certainly the man to do just that. It was just a shame she hadn’t realised it yet.

  She soon would. Etienne was completely confident of that.

  Gwen was so furious, she forgot all about her blisters until she reached her front door. There she kicked off her shoes and stood on the still-cool stones while she rummaged for her key. Etienne Moreau was the absolute limit. It had been so perfect last night and then he thought his money could buy everything, including her. She felt insulted. Stamping upstairs, she threw off her beautiful gown. She intended to shrug off that infuriating man in the same movement. It wasn’t quite as easy as she hoped. As she pulled on her working clothes it was impossible not to notice how soft and supple his expensive shower gel had left her skin. She lifted her arm and inhaled its heavy, floral perfume again. From that moment on, she would never be able to smell the fragrance of jasmine without being wafted straight back to the luxury of Etienne’s suite. And the memory of the night they had shared…

  Gwen caught sight of her reflection in her bedroom mirror and it shocked her. Overnight, the vigorous businesswoman who was always so quick to rebuke her from the glass had been replaced. A misty-eyed stranger gazed back at her now.

  She jumped straight back to life as a loud knock echoed up from downstairs. There was someone at the door.

  ‘Just a minute!’ she called, scrabbling around to collect the unpaid electricity bill, her house keys and bag before flying down to throw open the front door.

  It was Etienne. Dressed in another beautifully crafted suit, he pulled off a pair of slick black shades. They flickered in the morning sunlight as he closed the arms and posted them into the top pocket of his jacket. Stunned into silence, Gwen stared at the face she had seen transformed by pleasure such a short, painful time before. He was as unrecognisable as her reflection had been in the mirror upstairs. His eyes showed none of the soft sensuality she remembered so well. They now watched her acutely. The early stubble that had rasped against her naked skin was gone, but his freshly shaved face had lost none of its attraction for her. It made her want to stroke him. If ever a man’s body demanded a woman’s fingers to peel away his smart façade, it was Etienne’s. Despite her fury, Gwen could not help staring. She had an almost overwhelming desire to reach out to him. He had assumed she was dying to become his mistress. He was wrong, but she still wanted to experience the passionate animal lurking beneath his civilised exterior—just not quite so formally…

  ‘You’ve come to apologise?’ she ventured.

  That wiped the smile off his face. He grazed his lower lip with his teeth.

  ‘No…what for?’ he questioned, mystified.

  Gwen was already crimson, but could at least give the appearance of being in control. She hardened her features. He mustn’t guess she was thinking about the way his muscles bunched beneath the fine gold skin of his chest. Fidgeting with embarrassment, she blew a stray curl of hair back from her brow with a gust of hot breath.

  ‘You know very well what for, Etienne Moreau.’

  He gazed at her, shaking his head. ‘No, I don’t.’

  She stared back. His ebony eyes looked so steady and honest she found it impossible to believe he was goading her. And yet she was being forced into saying words that made her blood boil with embarrassment.

  She glared up at him malevolently. ‘You tried to buy me. You reduced me to the level of a bowl of bouilla-baisse! You asked me to be your mistress!’ she hissed.

  To her total amazement, his response was a confiding chuckle.


  ‘What’s the matter with that? As far as I’m concerned, that is one of the greatest compliments a man can pay a woman.’

  ‘Well, it comes pretty low on my agenda, I can tell you!’ Gwen snapped. The day was already warm, and she was getting hotter by the second.

  Etienne managed to stop smiling, but could not hide the relish in his eyes. ‘That isn’t how it felt to me, last night,’ he murmured.

  Gwen struggled to hang onto the remains of her self-control. If only he weren’t looking at her like that, all flashing dark eyes and lupine grin. It was all she could do not to cave in and smile back.

  That would be disastrous. She had principles at stake. They had forced her to walk away from him once. To run back into his arms now would show him how vulnerable she was. She hadn’t escaped from the claustrophobia of home to get locked into a relationship that would die with the speed of his enthusiasm.

  ‘Fine—we’ve established that you’re totally unrepentant. So what makes you think you can hunt me down in my own home? I’ve told you, I’m not interested in your shabby little offer. If you’re not here to deliver an apology, would you mind telling me why you are here?’ she snapped.

  As she spoke she caught sight of her car. It was standing on the terrace, in the shade of the gnarled old golden rain tree. She stopped. Her glance flicked from Etienne’s face to the Citroen, and back again. There was absolutely no trace of amusement in his expression now. Annoyance spoke loudly in his every movement as he pulled her keys from his pocket and thrust them towards her.