by Anne Fraser
‘Why didn’t you come and see us?’ Caroline asked, looking up at him with eyes in which he could see her terrible pain. ‘Papa missed you so much. And Mama too. I heard him telling her that he couldn’t understand why you didn’t come.’
‘And what did she say?’ he asked quietly.
‘She said she was sure you had your reasons. That she knew you loved us, but life wasn’t always as simple as we wanted it to be.’
‘She was a good woman,’ Pierre said. ‘Your father was lucky to be married to her.’
Caroline looked at him sharply. ‘And she was lucky to be married to him. She was always telling him that she was glad she had married the right brother. What did she mean?’ Pierre felt a sliver of pain run through his heart. Perhaps it was best he told Caroline the truth, however painful he found it.
‘I don’t know if she ever told you, but your mother was my girlfriend first.’ He could tell by Caroline’s frown that this was news to her.
‘I met her in Paris when I was a medical student and she was working as an au pair. I—we—fell in love. But I was young and not ready to settle down.’
‘Did she love you?’ Caroline asked.
‘I think she thought she was in love with me. Then I brought her here to meet my family and she met your papa. Straight away she fell in love with him.’
‘How did you feel about that? Did you mind?’
‘Yes, I minded very much. As soon as I knew she was lost to me, I realised that I did love her—with all my heart. But it was too late.’
‘Did Papa know?’
‘No, I never really realised it myself until I saw them together, and once I knew the truth there was no point in telling him how I felt. They were so happy together I knew that whatever feelings she’d had for me were nothing to the way she felt about him.’
‘It must have been hard for you.’
‘The day the got married was one of the saddest, and happiest, days of my life. I was sad because I knew I had lost the woman I loved for good, but happy because I knew that she and your father were meant for each other, and that they would make each other happy.’
‘Did she know you were in love with her?’
‘I never told her, but I think she guessed. It is why they only came here when I wasn’t here, and why I never came to see you. I did see you once. Do you remember when your grandpère died? Seeing you was almost as hard for me as the day they married. You looked—look—so much like her. Every time I see you…’
‘You are reminded of her,’ Caroline finished for him. She sat deep in thought, remaining in her uncle’s embrace. ‘Poor Pierre. Is that why you never married?’
‘I never did meet a woman who made me feel the way your mother made me feel. I didn’t want to. If I couldn’t be with her, I didn’t want to be with anyone. Not permanently anyway.’
‘You know, it makes me feel better somehow. That Mama had two men who loved her. She was lucky. But I was so angry with you. If you had come to see them, they wouldn’t have been in that plane in France.’
‘I know, ma chérie. I blame myself too. But they needed to be here. They wanted to see the lawyers—they had papers to sign.’
‘About the vineyard? They didn’t really talk to me much about it.’
‘Yes. It was to do with a trust they wanted set up for you. I would probably found an excuse to stay in Paris if I hadn’t had to sign papers, too.’
‘And you never married because you loved Mama?’
‘I’m afraid so,’ Pierre admitted.
‘But what about Julie?’ Caroline asked, looking at Pierre intently.
‘What about her?’
‘I’ve seen the way you are when she’s around. You’re different. Happy. And the way you look at her, it’s the way Mama used to look at Papa.’
Pierre was stunned. The way he looked at Julie? Of course he liked her, found her attractive. Very attractive. And sexy and amusing, and clever and thoughtful and very good company. All of these things he admitted. But being in love with Iona had never stopped him desiring other women. Even if he’d known it would only be a matter of time before he tired of them. But Julie? He wouldn’t sleep with her, no matter how much he wanted to. Because he knew she would never take any relationship lightly and he was too fond of her—he owed her too much—to hurt her. He had hurt her enough as it was. No, Caroline was wrong. He wanted Julie, but anything else was all in his niece’s imagination. Wasn’t it?
‘But I’m glad you told me about Mama,’ Caroline said sleepily. ‘I don’t know why, but it makes me feel better.’ She got to her feet. ‘I think I’ll go to bed now. And I think I’ll tell Julie I don’t want to go back to Scotland just yet. I’d like to spend some more time here, where they were both so happy. And maybe you and I can get to know each other properly.’
Pierre sat deep in thought long after Caroline had returned to her room. Was she right? Was he falling for Julie? Had Iona’s death in some way allowed him to move on with his life? Had that been her last gift to him? To allow him at last to find someone who he could love and who would love him in return? Eventually he rose and went back to his own room.
As he lay in bed later that night, he tossed and turned. Whenever he closed his eyes it was Julie he saw. He saw her luminous eyes, the pain she tried to hide, the wounded curve to her mouth. What was it about her that seemed to have got under his skin? She was different from the woman he usually dated—she had a depth to her that he avoided.
His thoughts drifted back to Iona, who was never far from his mind. But instead of the usual pang of terrible grief that her memory usually evoked, this time he felt only sadness that her life had been so tragically cut short. Giving up on sleep, he got out of bed and, pulling on his jeans and sweater, let himself out of the house. He made his way down to the small lake at the back of the house, to the place he had first kissed Iona when he had brought her here all these years ago. He stood beside the lake, remembering the feel of her lips and the scent of her hair, but this time it was other eyes he was seeing. Smoky grey eyes with a hint of sadness. Could it be that he was no longer in love with Iona? He had believed himself in love with her for so long it had become a habit. But perhaps he had convinced himself as a way of keeping other women at arm’s length? Surely if he had truly loved the woman his brother had married, he would never have let her go? Instead, he had introduced her to Jacques, and had never fought for her.
With a sense of wonder Pierre realised that since he had met Julie he had thought less and less of the woman who had become his sister-in-law. He was beginning to realise that he had used the belief he was in love with her as a barrier against allowing other women into his heart. He had been scared of commitment, he realised. Scared of risking having his heart broken. Until Julie had come along, that was. She had crept under his skin and into his heart. The thought shocked him. It was her face that slid into his dreams, her mouth he dreamt of. Her arms he wanted around him at night. Stunned, he looked over the lake. It was Julie he wanted by his side, here, in France, with him. For ever. And he couldn’t wait to see her to tell her.
Julie woke just as the light was beginning to leak through her curtains. She felt a momentary pang of sadness as she remembered that she’d be leaving the vineyard later that day. But perhaps it was just as well. No matter how much she wanted to, she’d never belong here.
She showered quickly, before making her way to the deserted kitchen. A couple of used bowls lay on the table, telling her that she wasn’t the first person to breakfast. She poured herself a cup of coffee and went to stand on the veranda to drink it. The sun was rising and although it was still early spring, Julie could feel the first hint of summer in the breeze.
In the distance she could see a solitary figure down by the vineyards. She recognised the jet-black hair and tall figure of Pierre. What should she do? she thought. Stay away or pretend that nothing happened? Sighing, she made up her mind. She’d be leaving soon. She may as well face him sooner rather than later. He was more likely
to believe that his kisses had meant nothing if she behaved normally. She grabbed a blanket and wrapped some crusty bread in a napkin. Then, taking her coffee with her, she made her way towards him. As she approached she could see that he had removed his shirt. He seemed to be tying the branches of the vines, and as he worked she could see his bronzed muscles ripple. She felt a sudden wash of desire.
‘Coffee,’ she said as she approached.
He accepted her offer, taking a long drink before returning to his work.
‘I thought I would get some of this done before the rest of the men arrive,’ he explained. ‘Then I can honestly tell Alain we are making progress when I go to see him later.’
‘Can I help?’ Julie offered. ‘I don’t know what time we have to leave for the airport, but I’m happy to do what I can in the meantime,’ she said, trying to keep her eyes off his naked torso.
‘Caroline doesn’t want to go back any more,’ Pierre answered. ‘She’s decided to stay after all.’
‘That’s good,’ Julie said, surprised. ‘But what made her change her mind?’
‘I talked to her last night. As you suggested,’ he replied.
‘Oh,’ Julie said, wondering what Pierre had said that had convinced his niece to stay.
‘Can I assume you will stay, too?’ Pierre asked. Something in the expression in his eyes as he looked at her made Julie’s pulse race.
‘I think I should go back. It sounds as if you don’t need me here any more.’
‘But we want you to stay,’ Pierre replied, looking steadily at Julie. ‘I want you to stay.’
Julie could hear a pounding in her ears. The way he was looking at her. The urgent note in his voice. It seemed different. He seemed different. Suddenly her throat was dry.
‘Of course I’ll stay, then,’ she said. ‘I love it here. It’s so peaceful. I have to back at work on Wednesday but until then I’m all yours.’
‘All mine?’ Pierre said softly. ‘Is that so?’
He took the blanket from her hands and laid it on the ground. The way he was looking at her sent waves of desire through Julie. Confused, she was powerless to react when Pierre took her hand and pulled her down beside him.
He stretched himself along the length of the blanket, shielding his eyes with his arm. Julie had to fight to stop herself from reaching out to touch the contours of his bronzed muscular chest. She was conscious of trying to imprint the image of him on her memory.
‘After the harvest, we usually have a party,’ he said lazily. ‘All the workers who have helped, as well as the surrounding families, come. We party into the night.’
‘It sounds fun,’ Julie said. Once again miserably aware she wouldn’t be part of it.
‘And what do you do for fun?’ he asked. ‘You seem to spend so much of it looking after other people. Your work, your friends you look after, us. But what about Julie, what does she want?’
‘I have everything I want,’ Julie said softly. ‘I love my work and the kids. I have friends, my skiing. My life is full.’
‘Why do you not seem happy, then? When I look at you there is sometimes—Je ne sais pas—a sadness.’
Julie felt uncomfortable. She wasn’t used to talking about herself and she had already revealed too much of herself to this man.
‘I am happy,’ she said defensively.
Pierre reached out and stroked her arm, his roughened fingers sending sparks of desire through Julie.
‘But I don’t think you are. Sometimes I see you smile, even laugh. But not very often. I think you are more sad than happy.’
Julie pulled away from his touch. ‘I don’t need your sympathy,’ she said sharply.
Pierre looked puzzled, then his face brightened. ‘I don’t feel sorry for you! Merde, you are not the sort of woman a man feels sorry for.’
She looked into his eyes. Flickering in the depths she could see something. Desire? Passion? Or was he simply poking fun at her?
Before she could decide she was in his arms. He pulled her down onto the blanket so close she could feel the heat and hardness of his naked chest. Unable to help herself, she felt her arms snake around his neck. Then he was kissing her his lips, hard and demanding. She responded, letting herself lean into his body. She could feel his arms around her waist then on her hips, drawing her into him. She could feel the heat of her desire deep in her belly. She hadn’t made love to anyone before and she felt a terrifying mixture of fear and need. Then the world disappeared and all she was conscious of was her desire. It didn’t matter that he would never love her. All she wanted at this moment was him. To stay in his arms for ever.
His hands were on her, undoing her buttons of her blouse. She felt his touch on her naked breasts and she arched her body into his. Then she was being lifted as if she were a baby. Still kissing her, he carried her back towards the house and up the stairs. She knew what he intended, but she was powerless to stop him. She didn’t want to stop him. He kicked open the door of his bedroom and laid her gently on the bed. He looked at her for a few seconds. Now there was no mistaking the strength of his desire. His eyes drilled into hers.
‘I want you,’ he said simply. ‘I need you, but I need to be sure that you want this too. Because if I touch you again, I will not be able to stop.’
Julie looked up at him. Her breath was coming in short gasps. Her body felt as if it was on fire. Whatever happened in the future she knew she wanted him right now more than anything else in the world. Unable to speak the words, she reached out for him and, grabbing the belt around his waist, pulled him on top of her.
Later, much later, they lay together, the rumpled sheets caught in their limbs. Julie’s head was on Pierre’s chest and he stroked her hair gently before trailing his fingers across her face, stopping briefly at her scar before moving down towards her neck. But for the first time Julie didn’t flinch at the acknowledgement of her disfigurement. It just didn’t matter any more. Now, at last, she believed herself beautiful. As she listened to the steady beating of his heart, she opened her eyes and glanced around his room. She wanted to know everything about this man. Every detail, going back to his babyhood. She smiled to herself, finding it difficult to imagine the six-foot man beside her had ever been a baby.
His room was the mirror image of hers, but instead of pillows and cushions it was simple and masculine, containing the bed they were in, an old-fashioned wardrobe and a chest of drawers. Apart from those items of furniture, the room was bare.
‘Julie,’ Pierre said, his voice low and wondering. ‘You were a virgin?’
‘Yes,’ she said simply. ‘There has never been anyone. When I was with Luke we were too young—well, I was. And since him there has never been anyone I felt strongly enough about to sleep with.’
‘But me, you felt strongly enough about me?’ He tipped her face up so she was forced to look in his eyes. She felt suddenly shy. But she wasn’t the sort of woman to play games. She couldn’t pretend that what had just happened hadn’t meant something.
‘Yes,’ she said again. ‘I have never felt this way about anyone.’
Pierre picked up her hand and turning it over kissed her palm.
‘Then you must marry me,’ he said. ‘And soon.’
Julie felt a surge of happiness flow through her body. He loved her. Despite what he’d said about Iona. He wanted her to be with him always. She turned her face up to his. He was smiling down at her. It was all so sudden…
‘Don’t make me wait for your answer,’ he growled. ‘You must know by now that I am not a patient man.’
‘Then yes, my darling. Yes.’ And then he was kissing her and she was drowning once more.
Julie must have fallen asleep because when she opened her eyes Pierre was getting dressed. He bent down and kissed her, but when she reached for him he pulled away with a regretful smile. ‘Later, mon coeur,’ he said. ‘Stay here if you want, but I have to go to the hospital to see Alain. There will be time later—tonight.’ His eyes glittered as he looked dow
n at her. ‘If only you knew how much I want to stay with you, but there will be plenty of time for us.’ His eyes glowed with promise and Julie felt her body stir with desire. She stretched luxuriously. God, had she known what she had been missing all these years! But at the same time she was glad she had waited.
‘Don’t be too long,’ she said.
When she next awoke a glance at her watch told her it was almost lunchtime. She jumped out of bed. Caroline would be looking for her, and she wasn’t ready to be found naked in Pierre’s bed. She wanted a few more hours to hug the secret of her engagement to herself. As she dressed she felt her heart sing. She would be with Pierre the rest of their lives. They could spend their free time here at the vineyard. And when they had children…She stopped midway through getting dressed. Did Pierre want children? She hoped so because she wanted three at least. Anyway, there would be time to discuss all that. But she couldn’t imagine Pierre not wanting kids. She let herself daydream. Three children, two boys and a girl or two girls and a boy. She didn’t care. Hell, three boys, three girls as long as they were healthy and had Pierre’s blue eyes and dark hair.
Humming happily to herself, she went downstairs. She met Caroline at the door of the kitchen. The girl looked upset.
‘Hey, Caroline. What is it? Is there news of Alain? Has something happened?’ Fear clenched her throat. She barely knew Alain or his wife, but already she was fond of them.
Caroline shook her head. She held out her hand to Julie. In it she was holding Julie’s mobile phone.
‘It kept ringing. I couldn’t find you, so I answered it. It’s the hospice in Edinburgh. They want to speak to you about your friend Lexy.’
Her heart beating rapidly in her chest, Julie took the phone from Caroline. Please, God, she thought, let her still be alive.
‘Hello,’ she said, her voice shaky.
‘Julie, it’s Audrey. I’m so sorry to track you down like this, but you said you wanted to know if Lexy took a turn for the worse. Well, I’m sorry to have to tell you she had a small stroke last night and she’s fading fast. She’s asking for you.’
