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Falling for Her Mediterranean Boss

Page 17

by Anne Fraser


  Julie struggled to sit up. Lying down in the hospital bed, she felt at too much of a disadvantage. Seeing her struggle, Pierre helped her up, arranging the pillows behind her back.

  ‘Don’t be silly,’ she said crossly. ‘I want to live as much as the next person. But sometimes in life we have to put others first.’ Not that he’d know anything about that, she reminded herself. He was the kind of man who used people to get what he wanted. He wouldn’t understand.

  Pierre slipped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her into his chest. She could feel the beat of his heart through the thin material of his sweater and smell the faint citrus tang of his aftershave. She felt a wave of grief wash over her. This would be the last time she would find herself in his arms.

  ‘Why did you run away from me?’ His voice was deep with emotion, the French accent more pronounced than ever. Julie closed her eyes against the pain in her heart. More than anything she wanted him to leave so that she could nurse her aching heart away from his searching eyes.

  ‘Caroline told me what you said about Iona. That you couldn’t bear to go on living in Scotland,’ she said. ‘It explains why you asked me to marry you.’

  ‘You think I asked you to marry me because I wanted Iona’s daughter to live with me?’ He laughed but it was a mirthless sound. ‘De bleu, Julie. You must have a very bad opinion of me.’

  ‘But it’s true, isn’t it? Caroline wouldn’t lie to me.’

  Pierre sighed and rested his chin on the top of her head. His hand caressed the side of her jaw. It was as if he needed to reassure himself she was still in one piece.

  ‘It’s only partly true. I do want you to come and live with me in France. And if that helps Caroline, it would make me very happy. I feel I would have paid back some of the debt I owe my brother, and Iona, by making a home for their child. But if that is not what you want, then I will be wherever you are.’

  Pierre tipped Julie’s chin so she was looking into his eyes. What she saw there made her shiver with hope.

  ‘You are all that matters to me,’ he said firmly. ‘When I thought I had lost you, I knew my life was over. Without you there is nothing for me. I love you. It is you I want. No one and nothing else matters.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ Julie breathed, feeling a burst of sunshine permeate her soul. ‘Because I would rather be alone than be married to a man who doesn’t love me properly.’

  Pierre cursed in fast-flowing, incomprehensible French.

  ‘I see,’ he said, ‘that I am going to have to spend the rest of my life convincing you of how much I love you. It doesn’t matter how long it takes—I can wait. But one day—soon, I hope—you will learn to believe me. Then we will be married.’ He kissed her lips softly. ‘But don’t make me wait too long. Please.’

  ‘Well, Dr Favatier.’ Julie returned his kisses, knowing that this time she had found someone who would love her the way she had always dreamt of. ‘You’d better start persuading me.’

  A few weeks later, Julie stood beside Caroline and Pierre at the side of Jacques and Iona’s gravestones. Spring had come in earnest and the cemetery was blanketed with tulips. The smell of honeysuckle drifted in the warm breeze. Birds called to each other over the sound of distant traffic.

  Caroline tucked her arm in Julie’s, and sniffed. ‘It is so peaceful here.’ The young girl knelt and laid flowers on her parents’ grave. ‘Bonne nuit, Mama and Papa. You can sleep peacefully now. I’m going to be all right.’ She stood and, linking her arm in Pierre’s, started to walk towards the car. ‘Are you coming, Julie?’ Pierre called to her. ‘Our guests are waiting for us.’

  Julie looked at him, so handsome in his morning suit. He was her husband, and she could still hardly believe it. Her wedding dress fluttered in the breeze.

  ‘You go ahead, I won’t be a moment.’ Crouching by the side of the graves, she laid her wedding bouquet on top of Iona’s.

  ‘Your daughter is a fine young woman,’ she whispered, blinking away a tear. ‘Pierre and I will watch over her as if she were our own.’ She pressed her hand to her belly. There was no sign of her pregnancy yet, but she was sure she could feel the tiny life growing inside her. ‘Pierre, Caroline, this little baby will all be a family. We’ll come and see you often, I promise.’ She stood and looked towards where her husband and niece were waiting for her. Her heart sang as she took in their beloved figures. Life could be perfect after all.

  ISBN: 978-1-4268-3623-7

  FALLING FOR HER MEDITERRANEAN BOSS

  First North American Publication 2009

  Copyright © 2009 by Anne Fraser

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

  ® and TM are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.

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