‘And you are his fiancée’s best friend, Gwyneth.’ Etienne’s accent turned her name into something beautiful and exotic, but his words were an accusation.
Gwen stiffened. No matter how gorgeous he was, she couldn’t stop herself reacting angrily.
‘I was his ex-fiancée’s ex-best friend. And, please call me Gwen!’
‘Dommage!’ He inhaled sharply. ‘That’s some reaction. What caused the split between you?’
Gwen wondered where to start. She felt like blaming Carys for all her problems, but that wasn’t entirely fair. Nobody had held a gun to Gwen’s head and made her buy out Nick and Carys’ share of the business. ‘Well, she upset Nick and eighteen months’ worth of arrangements by running off with another man on the very day of their wedding. She’s cost me a fortune by abandoning our partnership, and I’m so shattered I hardly know what day it is any more.’
She hadn’t meant to sound so resentful, but it was impossible not to warm to her theme. Etienne glanced at her. Despite the darkness, he was clearly shocked.
‘What happened to the unbreakable bonds of sisterhood? All for one, one for all, and take the man for everything he’s got?’
‘I’m old-fashioned,’ Gwen said primly. ‘I expected our business partnership to be like marriage—forever. And an engagement is almost as binding—certainly when it gets all the way to the big day.’
‘Are you saying you would rather see your best friend trapped in marriage to a worthy, predictable man like Nick, rather than let her follow her heart?’
‘I’d rather things were exactly as they were, with Carys still my partner. She knew what Nick was like before she agreed to marry him. Why did she have to take off like that, all of a sudden? She left me right in the lurch,’ Gwen grumbled, heaving another huge sigh. ‘I thought she was resigned to life with Nick. I’d always told her not to expect carnivals when he was in town, but she wouldn’t listen!’
‘That isn’t what I told Nick when he asked me to be his best man,’ Etienne growled. He was staring straight ahead at the road and gripped the steering wheel with both hands for once.
Gwen was amazed. ‘I never saw you at the supposed wedding?’ she ventured.
That day, she had hardly seen anyone beyond her crew of catering staff. She had been determined to put on the perfect reception as well as acting as bridesmaid, but one thing was certain. However busy, she could never have missed seeing Etienne. He would have stood head and shoulders over the rest of the guests in every meaning of the phrase.
‘Like Carys, I cancelled at the last moment. My father’s funeral was held on the same day.’
‘Then I’m sorry,’ Gwen said quietly.
Etienne made a small gesture of acceptance, but added, ‘Thank you, but my father the late count was nearly ninety. He died peacefully, in his sleep.’
‘All the same, it must have been a horrible experience for you.’ Gwen fell silent. For once, she was wishing her own family weren’t so far away.
‘And?’ He prompted, when she had been lost in thought for some time.
Puzzled by the questioning note in his voice, she looked at him. He pierced the shadowy interior of the car with a sly grin. In reply she frowned and shook her head in a silent appeal for more details.
‘This is where you ask me what he left.’
‘Do I? Why?’ Genuinely confused, Gwen picked up her handbag as Etienne turned his car into the narrow driveway leading to her home.
‘Because that’s what single women always do when they meet me.’
Gwen paused as the cold, hard meaning of his words sank in. They were weighed down by the resignation in his voice. Here was a man who had everything—looks, style, a title, the money to back it all up—and no doubt all the hangers-on that came with such privileges.
‘Oh, dear. You’re almost making me feel sorry for you a second time!’ She chuckled self-consciously. ‘And there was me about to invite you in for coffee, to thank you for running me home. I’ll bet your fan club all do that, too!’ She tried to laugh off the confession. To her surprise, he joined in.
‘Yes. Until tonight, I’ve always refused—but for one night only, I might allow myself to be tempted by a chefprepared café noisette—and perhaps a little something to go with it?’ he added in a wicked whisper.
The intimacy in his voice stroked a finger of desire all the way down Gwen’s spine. Accepting a lift from a strange man was right out of character for her. Inviting him into her home was something else again.
It must be the season for taking risks.
She drew in a long, slow breath. The sophisticated tang of his aftershave bolstered her courage until she was able to speak with hardly a tremble in her voice.
‘If you’re sure an invitation wouldn’t be too predictable?’
‘You’re doing the inviting. It’s your call, Gwen.’
Her mouth went dry. He was putting her in the driving seat, but she had never felt so close to losing control. When she spoke, she could only manage a faint whisper.
‘I wanted to thank you for saving me tonight, not only from that…’ she had to choose her words carefully, in case the drunk was one of Etienne’s friends or relatives ‘…guest, but from a long walk home, as well. That’s two rescue missions in one evening. It seems only fair to offer you coffee.’
‘Then the least I can do is to accept.’ He smiled, and the starlight seemed to dance in his eyes. Gwen was overwhelmed. It took a lot of concentration to get out of the car, find her house key and open the door. She was trembling with sheer amazement at what was happening. Etienne Moreau could stop her heart simply by looking at her. She had thought she would never see him again after the party—but here he was, coming into her house to drink coffee!
She groped for the light switch and pressed. Nothing happened. Etienne was following her closely. Although the thought of him so close behind her was wickedly tempting, she kept moving. The bulb in the hall must have blown, and she had to reach the wall lights before either of them stumbled in the dark. She clicked the second set of switches. There was still nothing. A little breeze followed them into the house and sent a sheet of paper flickering off the telephone table. Gwen clapped a hand to her face in horror as she remembered what it was. The electricity bill. How long had she been promising herself she would get around to paying it? Too long, as far as the electricity company was concerned.
Etienne bent down and picked it up.
‘Is this important?’ It was too dark for him to read inside the house, so he stepped back outside. Gwen darted after him, but she was too slow.
Glancing at the bill, he made sympathetic noises. ‘So this means we’ll be drinking chilled champagne rather than hot coffee!’ He shrugged. ‘I can live with that.’
‘No—I’m sorry, I can’t possibly invite you in when I’ve got no power!’ Gwen peered around helplessly in the gloom for inspiration. ‘But if you were desperate for a drink, I could light a fire in the old range and boil a pan of water on that—’
She stumbled to a halt in the face of his devastating smile. This had been the perfect chance to spend a little while longer basking in it. She had blown it. He wouldn’t want to sit in a dark house. Every second in his company was worth losing a whole night’s sleep, but it was slipping away through her fingers. Gwen cursed herself silently.
‘I’m such a fool—first the car, and now this!’ she announced, already moving towards the front door again. ‘I’m so sorry I can’t offer you anything, Etienne.’
She was getting ready to close the door behind him when he left, but he stayed where he was.
‘Let me be the judge of that, Gwen. Why don’t we talk about it over champagne at my place instead?’
His voice was as soft as a breeze moving through the pine trees outside.
Gwen had been busily covering her disappointment by fussing with the door. At his words she stopped. Maybe there was a God in heaven after all! She was getting a second chance. For a heartbeat she allowed her
self to experience the fierce thrill of anticipation. Then reality supplied a quick cold shower.
‘You don’t know how much I’d really love to, Etienne, but I shouldn’t…’
‘I know,’ he crooned, his voice warm with understanding. ‘So let’s go.’
Reaching out, he caught hold of her hand. His palm was as smooth and warm as his seduction technique. Gwen’s body tried to follow him, but her mind was weighed down with responsibilities.
‘Oh, Etienne, I can’t…maybe we should just say goodnight and leave it at that…’ She managed to hang back, but disappointment trailed from her every word. ‘I’m so sorry, but I need to be up early. It’s another really busy day tomorrow and I have to be on top form…’
He let go of her hand. Looking down, he directed his expression of burning intensity straight into her soul. But when he spoke, his words were directed more to himself.
‘I’ve stumbled on a woman who would put an early night before coffee with me?’ he said slowly.
He seemed taken aback, musing over what had obviously never happened before. Gwen smiled.
‘Believe me, Etienne, it’s a tough call. But don’t worry. Your reputation as a ladies’ man is completely intact. Nothing would have persuaded me to miss out on coffee with you—apart from a seven a.m. delivery to Le Rossignol.’
His roguish smile completely overwhelmed her, and he took her hand a second time. ‘I’ll have someone deal with the delivery. After all, you must admit that coffee and conversation would round off the evening perfectly?’ Leaning forward, he whispered softly in her ear. ‘Very few people refuse me.’
His dark eyes were teasing her and his beautiful mouth tempted her even more than his words. He was good—very good. Gwen felt herself waver. Would it be so bad? Just for one night—to be a little irresponsible?
Her hesitation was all it took to make Etienne smile again and Gwen melted. She forgot all her money worries—some things were beyond price and she gave a slow nod of assent.
Releasing her hand, Etienne flipped the car keys out of his pocket and began to walk away from the house. When Gwen didn’t follow him instantly, he stopped and faced her.
Watching him warily, Gwen ran her hand up and down the edge of the door. He raised a mocking brow.
‘What’s the hold-up? Why are you looking at me like that?’
She moved uncomfortably inside her seductively sleek velvet dress.
‘I’m still not quite sure…this is all so sudden…’
‘Shh!’ Laughing, Etienne put a finger to his lips. Then he reached out and caught her by the hand again. ‘You talk too much, Gwen. Don’t build obstacles where there aren’t any. Merely accept what I’m offering.’
Oh, if only…she thought.
CHAPTER THREE
WITHIN seconds, Gwen locked up and bounced into the passenger seat of his car. She was breathing fast, and he noticed.
‘Do I make you nervous, Gwen?’ His smile flashed very white in the darkness as he nosed his car along the narrow drive. When they reached the lane he turned back down the hill.
Gwen put a hand to her chest. She could feel her heart fluttering like a butterfly in a box.
‘No! Well—a little—it’s just that I’m not in the habit of going back to the house of someone I’ve only just met. We’ve only really exchanged a few words.’
‘I seem to remember we exchanged a little more than words,’ Etienne said, his beautiful French accent giving the words a cadence that spoke straight to the soft, malleable centre of her being.
Gwen looked away, blushing furiously. He was waiting for her to respond, she could tell. His presence was so overwhelming she felt his gaze linger over her like a caress. Then, just as noticeably, its power flicked away from her as he turned his car in at a pair of huge, wrought-iron gates. As Gwen looked up at them her eyes widened.
‘My goodness!’
He was unimpressed by her reaction. ‘You have never seen these gates before?’
‘It’s not that. I pass them every day on my way to and from work. I just never dreamed I’d actually get to see who lives here, or what’s on the other side of them. That’s all.’ She gazed around, wondering what on earth she was letting herself in for.
‘Not many people do,’ Etienne said firmly as a security guard let his car pass. ‘Everyone needs a place where they can get away from the glare of publicity. Somewhere they can be themselves. This chateau is mine. It’s not my ancestral home—that’s on the Loire, naturellement.’
There was a long, wide approach road to his hillside home. The chateau looked like a fairy castle cut from black velvet and pinned against the star-speckled sky.
‘It’s beautiful,’ Gwen breathed as Etienne brought his sports car to a halt in front of the South front.
‘Wait until you see it in daylight.’
The car’s interior light flared as he opened his door. Gwen glimpsed something close to a smile on his face. It had vanished by the time he opened the passenger door to let her out. With one hand he relieved her of the huge champagne bottle. As she stood up his other hand hovered so close to her body she tensed with the expectancy of his touch. When it came, he brushed his palm lightly against the small of her back. The sensation made her gasp, but he intended only to guide her towards his house. His touch fell away at the sound. When they reached the front door he stood aside to let her enter the grand, marble hall first.
‘I’ll swap this for a more convenient size.’ He indicated the bottle in his hand, its foil glittering like gold beneath the security lights. ‘Make yourself at home, Gwen. I keep very irregular hours, so my staff do not wait up for me,’ he said as she looked up in awe of the large, high-ceilinged room lined with family portraits. Then he disappeared into his warren of a house.
Gwen gazed at the splendour, wondering how anyone could call a lofty old place like this home. It glittered with more gilt and antiques than a museum. The wide open spaces of it made her feel small and uncomfortable. Uneasy at Etienne’s absence, she lowered herself onto the very edge of a chair set beside the doorway. She wanted to know what he was doing while he was out of sight. The urge to go and look for him only faded when she heard his sure, steady footsteps again. They were growing closer at a leisurely pace. She tensed, wary of his return but at the same time desperate to see him again.
He didn’t disappoint her. As he strolled into the room she fancied he was taller, darker and more imposing than she remembered. She took in every detail of his strong profile and smooth, flawless brow. He accepted her scrutiny with a smile that made her blush.
‘Supper has been laid out in the summer drawing room. Join me. We will have champagne later.’
‘Are you sure there is enough for two?’ Even as she spoke Gwen knew it was a silly question.
‘My kitchens always provide plenty,’ he said amiably.
‘Well…if you’re sure they won’t mind…’
In the low light, his eyes became intense dark pools. ‘You shouldn’t worry too much about what other people may think or say, Gwen. This is your life, to live as you want.’ He levelled a gaze at her that flickered with intent. Gwen wished she had that sort of courage. From the moment she’d first spotted Etienne entering the party, her head had been filled with thoughts of him. His presence had drawn her attention time and time again. The first time they’d been alone together, she had been powerless to resist his attraction. Now she looked up at him in the certain knowledge he could easily rob her of her last strands of self-control. He was on his home ground, the ideal place to prove how strong his hold over her was.
‘I can’t do this,’ she said faintly. This was unknown territory for Gwen. Her fingers went to the watch strap she always fiddled with when she was nervous.
‘I’ve arranged for your restaurant delivery to be dealt with. You’ve got absolutely nothing to worry about. It’s not that late,’ he intoned gently.
‘Not for you, maybe, but…I’m beginning to think this is another mistake, Etie
nne. I should never have come here. I should go…’ She sprang to her feet, desperately trying to prove to them both that she was still her own woman. It was hopeless.
‘No, you shouldn’t. Do you honestly think I would let you go back to a house with no power or light?’ Etienne’s voice was reassuringly hypnotic. ‘I can’t let you suffer in darkness. Stay here, Gwen. Nothing will happen that you do not want to happen.’
When he said it like that, there was no question of her going anywhere else. They both knew why she was really here. The only connection it had with electricity was the sizzle of arousal whenever she looked at him.
After all, Gwen thought defiantly, she had been working flat out for months. She was long overdue some pleasure. And she was here in France to live out her dreams—surely that allowed for a little adventure as well? Looking up into Etienne’s heart-stopping expression, she knew there would never be a better time to indulge herself.
The second she softened, Etienne moved forward and held out his hand for her. She tentatively placed her palm in his, in a gesture of trust, and he led her through the cool, echoing shadows of his chateau to a small, intimate dining area. Delectable-looking food was laid out on a table along one side of the room. He walked past it, and poured them both a shot of strong coffee. Gwen looked at its colour uncertainly.
‘That looks so strong. I’ll never sleep tonight,’ she murmured.
A leonine smile widened Etienne’s generous mouth.
‘Good.’
His voice was as silken as the touch he laid on her arm. It slid over the thin fabric of her light jacket until it reached her shoulder. Gwen was transfixed. Her eyes were fastened to his every movement. Then she made the fatal mistake of transferring her attention to his eyes. From that moment on she was totally lost. She had spent her whole life playing by the rules. Now she was staring rebellion straight in the face, and it was wonderful.
‘I—I don’t know what to do, Etienne.’
‘Stay with me tonight.’ His voice was husky. ‘I haven’t felt like this in a long time. Far too long.’
The French Aristocrat's Baby Page 4
