Her father walked over to her. “I need to talk to you in private, Dana. This is crucial.” He flicked Alex a glance. “If you’ll excuse us.”
“Of course.”
Disappointment swamped Dana. She’d planned to help Alex outside until time to fix the lunches. The absolute last thing she wanted to do was damage control for her father. He must have rattled one of the actors. Unfortunately when her father lost his temper, the ground shook and he used Dana to placate injured feelings.
Her gaze darted briefly to Alex before she left the kitchen.
When she found out what her father wanted, she hurried to find Paul. “Do me a favor?”
“Anything if it will put your father in a better mood. He and David don’t usually quarrel.”
“It’s Dad. When he decides he wants something at the last minute, there’s no dealing with him on a rational basis. I’m going to be gone for the next few days. Until I’m back, will you arrange for lunches to be brought in for him and Alex? Ask someone to take his out back and put it on his truck where he’ll see it?”
“Sure.”
“Thanks, Paul. Just hope I come back with good news.”
“Amen.”
Three more trees and the orchard would be cleared out. Alex drove his truck around the back of the château and got started on the first one. While he worked, he listened for Dana’s truck. When she’d come in the kitchen this morning, she’d been dressed for work and his anticipation was growing.
After yesterday’s experience he was spoiled and wanted her around every minute of the day and night, but several hours went by with no sign of her. Being employed by her father, naturally he had first call on her time. Where she was concerned, Alex had no rights at all.
Over the last few weeks he’d been listening between the lines. To his chagrin it appeared she’d be ready to move on to Germany at the end of the month, which was coming up too fast.
Lines bracketed his mouth. Regardless of her wanting to be independent, he noticed how quickly she jumped when her father snapped his fingers. Keeping in mind what Paul had told him, it made sense she continued to work with her father in order to study his directing skills.
Suddenly his saw slipped because he wasn’t paying attention. He let go with a curse when he realized a couple of teeth had nicked him on the left forearm. Nothing major, but he needed a cloth to staunch the bleeding.
“Hello, Alex.”
He stepped off the ladder to see Saskia Brusse, of all people, waiting for him with a large sack in her hand. “Bonjour, Mademoiselle Brusse.”
“I’d say this was perfect timing. Did you know you’re bleeding?”
“That’s why I came down from the tree.”
“I think there are some napkins in here that will stop it.” She opened the sack and produced several.
“Thank you. Just what I needed.” He pressed the paper napkins against it. Just as he thought, the cuts were mere surface wounds.
“You’re welcome. Paul asked me to bring you lunch from the Hermitage. Mind if I stay out here and talk to you while you eat?” The brunette flashed him a smile that said she knew she was a knockout. Alex agreed, but he had other plans. He intended to find out why Dana hadn’t come.
“I’m sorry, but I’m headed to the landfill.” He climbed in the truck and closed the door. “It’s been a pleasure talking to you, mademoiselle. I thank you and Paul for remembering me. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to work.”
“But you’ve hardly taken any time off—”
“I can’t afford to. There’s still the undergrowth around the sides and the front of the château to get rid of.”
For the rest of the day he worked steadily until the last tree had been pruned. When he returned from his last haul, it was six-thirty. Dana had to be doing an errand for her father because her truck wasn’t out in front.
Paul was just heading out with some others in the minivan. Alex slowed down so they could talk. “I appreciated the lunch.”
“No problem. Dana will be back in a few days.”
Back? He struggled to control his shock. “Where did she go?”
“Maille.”
Alex had to reach back in his mind. “As in the Maille massacre?”
The other man nodded. “It’s near Tours. At the last minute Jan decided he wants to film a small segment there. She’s gone ahead to make the arrangements.”
“Understood.” Swallowing his bitter disappointment, he drove on around the back of the château.
Dana could have told him. She could have asked him to drive her there, but she wouldn’t do that. It wasn’t in her nature. If he asked her about it, she’d say that she knew he needed to finish his work.
Before he got out of the truck, he phoned her. With the orchard finished, he’d take the time off. He needed her…But with each attempt to reach her, he got the message “no service.” She’d turned off her phone!
In his gut he got the disturbing sensation she was intentionally separating herself from him. Was this her way of letting him down? Cut him off at the ankles and chop away slowly until there was nothing left by the time the company moved on to Germany? Was it of her own free will because she had a career to pursue and didn’t need a complication like Alex?
Another colorful expletive escaped his lips.
He could go after her and search until he found her, but that would mean asking Paul to be in charge of the estate until Alex returned. He couldn’t do that. The man was under enough stress with Jan in one of his dark moods, but no mood could be as black as Alex’s right now….
Thursday morning Dana got up early and left her hotel in Maille for Rablay. It had felt like months instead of three days since she’d seen Alex. By ten o’clock she could hardly breathe as she pulled around the side of the château and saw him making inroads on the vegetation between it and the winepress building. That meant he’d finished the orchard!
Panic set in. Whether he made enough money to pay the back taxes or not, she feared his days in France were numbered.
Trembling with excitement to see him again, she climbed out of the cab and hurried over to the area where he was working on the ladder. She stood at the base and looked up, feasting her eyes on his well-honed physique.
“Pardon, monsieur,” she said in her best French, which she knew was terrible. “I’m looking for a man named Prince Charming. Could you tell me where he is?”
His hands stilled on the branch he was cutting before he looked down and slanted her a dark, piercing glance. “I’m afraid he only lives in a fairy tale.”
She swallowed hard because that remote veneer he sometimes retreated behind was in evidence. “Spoil-sport,” she teased, hoping to inject a little levity into the conversation. “You’re so grumpy I think you’ve been missing my lunches.”
“Saskia has done her best to make up for them.”
Not Mademoiselle Brusse any longer? Somehow Dana hadn’t expected that salvo. “She loves to fuss for people who appreciate it. If you’ll be nice to me, I have a little present for you. It only cost me ten Eurodollars.”
“Is it something to eat?” She thought he might be thawing.
“No.”
“To read?”
She smiled. “No.”
“I give up. Why don’t you bring it to me?”
Flame licked through her. “Am I talking to the same man who terrified me last time I tried it? For self-preservation I think you’ll have to wait until you come down later. After I run inside for a few minutes, I’ll be back out to help you.”
She made it as far as the kitchen when she felt his hands on her arms. He spun her around. Their bodies locked, causing her to gasp. His expression looked borderline primitive. “Why did you turn off your phone?”
They were both out of breath. “So my father couldn’t bark at me the whole time I was in Maille. I know when I shouldn’t invade his space, but when I’m doing business for him, he doesn’t recognize boundaries where I’m conce
rned.”
There was a bluish-white ring around his lips. “You didn’t say goodbye.” He gave her a gentle shake. “Not one phone call to let me know you were all right.”
His words came as a revelation. “I—I wanted to call you, but I hated to bother you.”
“Bother me?” he blurted. “By not phoning you’ve caused me two sleepless nights!”
“I’m sorry. I—”
But nothing else came out because his mouth had descended, devouring her with a hunger she’d only dreamed about. He crushed her against him, filling her with a voluptuous warmth. She swayed, almost dizzy from too much passion.
“While you were gone I almost went out of my mind,” he whispered against her mouth before plundering it again. His lips caressed her eyes, her nose, her throat. He left a trail of fire everywhere there was contact.
“Don’t you know I missed you, too?” She’d been living to be in his arms again.
“I don’t even want to think about what it will be like when you’re not around here anymore.”
Dana heard the words, but their significance took a little time to sink in. If she understood him correctly, no matter how much he was attracted to her—no matter how much he wanted her and would miss her—when the time came, he was prepared to watch her disappear from his life.
His past relationships had never lasted, yet she wagered every woman who’d loved him still bore the scars of a broken heart. She’d known it would happen to her even before her father had warned her of the perils of staying at the château.
Calling on some inner strength, she cupped his arresting face in her hands. “Well, I’m back for now and I’m dying to give you your present.”
Those dark eyes played over her features with relentless scrutiny. “Where is it?”
“In my purse.”
“I don’t see it.”
“It dropped to the floor when you caught up to me.”
He pressed another urgent kiss to her mouth before releasing her to pick it up.
“Can I look inside?”
“Go ahead.”
His hand produced a sack. He held it up. “Is this it?”
She nodded. “I didn’t have time to get it gift wrapped.” Dana reached inside the sack and pulled out a hat. “Here—let me put it on you.”
His brow quirked. “You bought me a beret?”
“Not any beret. This comes from Maille. I came across a shop that makes these in remembrance of the men of the Resistance in the early days of the war. The proceeds go to a memorial fund for the victims’ families who were massacred.”
She placed it on his head at a jaunty angle. “You’re a handsome man, you know, and the beret adds a certain je ne sais quoi.” She stared at him for a moment, trying to recover from her near heart attack. “Every Frenchman should look as good.”
He paraded in front of her like a French soldier. “You think?” His disarming smile brought her close to a faint.
“You should listen to Dana. She knows what she’s talking about.”
They both turned to see the renowned French film star standing inside the entrance to the kitchen. Who knew how long she’d been observing them?
Dana smiled at her. “Simone? Please meet Alexandre Fleury Martin, the owner of the estate who made this location possible for us to rent. Alex? This is Simone Laval.”
“Enchante, mademoiselle. I saw one of your French films when my family lived in La Cote D’Ivoire. You’re an excellent actress, very intense. My mother was a fan of yours. If she were alive today, she’d love to meet you.”
As Dana digested that bit of information, the actress’s warm, sherry-brown eyes played over him in genuine female interest. “Call me Simone, and the pleasure is all mine.”
Simone was still in her 1940s clothes and makeup. Obviously Dana’s father had given everyone a break to use the restrooms or go outside to smoke.
As she shook hands with Alex, their conversation switched to French. Dana could tell he was totally taken with the winning charm of the thirty-eight-year-old divorcée. What male wasn’t attracted to her? With her dark auburn hair, she was a natural-born beauty. A real babe, as the guys on the crew referred to her.
The two of them looked good together. Some people meshed on a first meeting. Dana could tell there was a spark between them. Maybe it was their Gallic connection. Whatever, she saw it in the attitudes of both their bodies. They were so intent on each other, Dana slipped unnoticed from the kitchen.
Her father expected a report on the trip. Now that she was back, she might as well do it while he was waiting to resume the filming.
CHAPTER NINE
“SHALL we go?” Alex cupped Dana’s elbow and ushered her out of the movie theater to his truck. After a hard day’s work hauling more debris, it had been heavenly to drive into town with him for dinner and a film.
“How did you like the Da Vinci Code?” Though it had been out for four years, he hadn’t seen it. Now that they were headed home from Angers, she was curious to know his reaction.
He flashed her a curious glance. “I found the mixture of fact and fiction riveting, but I’m much more interested to hear what you thought about it.”
“Why?”
His hand squeezed hers a little harder. “Come on, Dana. We both know the answer to that.”
She heard an edge in his tone and was stunned by it. “We do? Perhaps you better tell me because I’ve forgotten.”
“A while back Paul confided that you have plans to be a director. Today Simone confirmed it.”
Dana was surprised Paul had said anything. She was even more surprised the subject had come up in Alex’s conversation with Simone. Disturbed in a strange way, she removed her hand from his warm grasp. “What exactly did she tell you?”
“So you don’t deny it.”
A heavy sigh escaped her lips. “Alex—what’s this all about?” How could such a perfect night have turned into something that created so much tension in him?
“Simone said that your input during several of the scenes at the film studio were so insightful, your father didn’t contradict you. I’ve been thinking about that. If he didn’t trust your directing instincts, he wouldn’t send you off to arrange film locations for him.”
“Before Mother died, she and I did it together.”
“But you’re the one with the talent.”
She lowered her head. “Why do I get the feeling you’re accusing me of something?” Out of the corner of her eye she saw his hands tighten on the steering wheel.
“Because when we first met, you misrepresented yourself.”
The heat of anger prickled. “In what way?”
“You intimated you were at your father’s beck and call, nothing more. In reality you’re being groomed by him because he accepts directing as your destiny.”
What? “Surely you’re joking—” she cried in astonishment.
“Not at all. At first I saw his possessiveness as a desperate attempt not to lose you after your mother passed away.” She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “However, in light of what I’ve learned, I’ve had to re-think that supposition.”
“And what conclusion have you arrived at exactly?” came her brittle question.
“He’s hated my guts from day one because he doesn’t want anything to get in the way of a brilliant career for you. Your father sees me as a possible threat.”
Her pain was escalating in quantum leaps. “But since you and I know that’s not the case, there’s no point to this conversation. I don’t understand what you have against the art of film directing. To each his own, I guess.”
He muttered something dampening in French.
“As long as it’s question time, why didn’t you ask Simone to dinner tonight instead of me? Before Paul left the château earlier this evening, he indicated she’s more than a little interested in you. I would have thought you’d love to spend time with such a lovely compatriot.”
By now they’d arrived at the front of
the château. He slammed on the brakes and turned to her. In the semi-darkness his features took on an almost menacing cast. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
She jerked her head toward him. “It’s not my place to like or dislike what you do. When you said I could stay at the château, it was understood we were both free agents, able to come and go with no strings. You made that emphatically clear when you refused to accept the bottle of wine I bought you out of friendship.”
His sharp intake of breath sounded louder in the confines of the cab.
“Why you’re coming at me with this inquisition is beyond me. I’ve had enough. If you don’t mind, I’m tired and need to go to bed.”
“But I do mind—” He leaned across her to lock the door so she couldn’t get out.
“I want the truth.” His lips were mere centimeters from hers, but instead of kissing them, he was being relentless with his questions. “Are you planning to direct films in the future?”
Being a director might have appealed to her once, but after the Neal fiasco she realized she didn’t want to be associated with the film world in any sense. Too many narcissists to deal with, too many artistic temperaments, too much blind ambition. But if she told Alex that, he would continue to believe what he wanted, so it wasn’t worth the effort.
“I guess when Dad thinks I’m ready.” Not only was it the answer he seemed determined to hear, but it would send the message that she had other things on her mind besides him after she left France. “May I get out now?”
Lines had darkened his face. He studied her through narrowed lids as if he’d been gauging the veracity of her words. “Not yet. A few weeks ago I asked you about the plot of this film. You held back on me. Simone told me the film was really your inspiration. She said you know every line and verse of it, that in fact, you helped write part of the script with David.”
“What if I did?”
He sucked in his breath. “Why couldn’t you have shared that with me?”
Cinderella on His Doorstep Page 13
