Well, that hadn’t worked out so well. He had brought her here to this place where she was forced to relive her grief, just when she thought it was all behind her.
Only it was all over her face. Her beautiful, wrecked, tragic face.
She was feeling that grief and loss all over again.
A familiar pain hit Rick deep inside his heart but he shoved it down the way he always did when the memory of Tom came flooding back into his consciousness out of the blue. Perhaps it was this chateau? He had such clear memories of that day they had come here as a family.
Now Tom was gone. And he was left to pick up the pieces, just as Saskia was trying to do. Life wasn’t fair. On either of them.
He shuffled in his chair and picked up another slice of cheese and bread and casually looked up with a wave of his cheese knife.
Rick chuckled out loud, instantly cutting through the tense atmosphere.
‘That’s why I’m working so hard to bring your champagne to customers like Saskia. The girl right here today has inherited the best qualities of the Elwood family and her clients expect the very best. Which is precisely what we are going to give them. Saskia and I are looking forward. Not backward. Aren’t you?’
A faint glimmer of a smile flickered across Pierre’s face and Anna’s expression lightened.
‘I could not have put it better myself, Rick. Of course, that was a different generation and that is exactly what we want to do; move forward.’
‘Why else am I here?’ Rick smiled and relaxed back in his chair. ‘And thank you for being so honest and generous, and for your time today so close to the harvest. Don’t forget, next time you’re in London I’ll be delighted to return your hospitality and show you around our new showroom. In the meantime?’ He raised his coffee cup. ‘I think a toast is required. To a successful harvest and many of them!’
* * *
‘Well,’ Rick said with a low sigh, ‘that went well. Nice lunch. What did you think of the extra dry champagne? That is a winner in my book.’
‘A winner? Yes, the champagne was lovely and I will definitely order some. Out of guilt if nothing else,’ Saskia said in a voice that was trembling with emotion. ‘That lovely couple gave us such a warm welcome and all I could do was fall apart. They must think that I am a complete idiot.’
She half turned towards him in the passenger seat and grabbed hold of the dashboard to give her strength. ‘I cannot believe that I embarrassed myself like that. I had no idea that Pierre had met Aunt Margot and admired her, but I certainly don’t normally react that way. I suppose it hit me out of the blue, but it was still so humiliating.’
‘Who for? Me?’ Rick glanced once at Saskia before concentrating on driving down the narrow farm road. ‘Not at all. What is there to be embarrassed about? You cared for your aunt and she was clearly admired.’
His fingers tapped out a rhythm on the steering wheel. ‘How long has it been?’
‘Just over a year.’ Saskia exhaled slowly and when she spoke her words were very calm and measured. ‘But it feels a lot longer.’
Rick said nothing but slowed the car on the narrow country road and pulled into the next tourist viewpoint on the brow of a hill.
Before Saskia knew what was happening, he was out of the car and had opened the passenger door for her.
‘Come on,’ he said, and held out his hand towards her. ‘Let’s get some air.’
‘Air?’ she repeated disbelievingly. ‘I have had more than enough air at the Chateau, thank you. I can be just as miserable right here.’
‘Then have some more. I’m not driving another mile until we have this out.’
He stood there, looking at her with a smile on his face which reached his eyes and was impossible to resist. His fingers twitched, gesturing her to reach out and take his hand.
Resigned to the inevitable and too exhausted to complain further, Saskia slowly and carefully unclipped her seat belt, took his hand and stepped down onto the grass in her smart heels.
But, instead of releasing her hand, Rick wrapped his fingers firmly around hers and drew her away from the car and onto the brow of the hill, where they stood in silence looking out onto the golden leaves and autumn colours of the neat rows of grapevines. Side by side. So that when he broke the silence it was as if he was talking to the vines.
Rick rolled his shoulders. ‘I know what it is like to lose someone you love. And believe me when I say that a year is not nearly long enough to get over wanting to burst into tears just at the sound of that person’s name. But nobody in the world will think less of you if you miss your aunt. Nobody.’
Then he sniffed and gazed out at the golden autumn colours.
‘Do you know what I’m thinking?’ For several long minutes all Saskia could hear was the tink, tink, tink from the car as it cooled and birdsong from the fields stretched out in front of them.
‘That inside my business suit I’m a fraud?’ she whispered.
He whipped around towards her and his blue-grey eyes turned into the colour of steel as they glared at her. Hard, demanding and not prepared to take any argument.
‘Wrong. And don’t you ever let anyone make you feel that way. Ever. You are not a fraud. Okay, so you get emotional and blub over your silk blouse. Only to be expected. Just think how hard it is for us guys! We have to play the macho game and wait until we get home to let rip. So get that out of your head right now, gorgeous. Not a fraud. Are we clear?’
‘Okay.’ She blinked and drew back a little. ‘Quite clear.’
‘Good. I don’t want to hear it again. You are, however, the worst mind-reader I’ve ever met. Because actually—’ and his voice lowered and seemed to warm in the sunshine ‘—I was thinking about how very lucky we are.’
He flung his right hand out towards the hills and his left hand clung on to Saskia even more tightly as though he was afraid she might run away.
‘Look at this view. The birds are singing and the sun is shining. No traffic noise. No buses, taxis, or email or a clamour of people demanding our attention. For the next few minutes this is all ours. And I happen to think it’s special.’
He turned back to her with a smile, reached out and stroked her cheek with one finger so tenderly and gently, and she felt like crying for real. ‘Change of plan. I was thinking of staying overnight at this great hotel some friends of mine own, but you know what? It’s time to go home. No. Not London, the chalet in the French Alps that I call home. I’ve done enough talking. Time for action. That way, we can take time out to enjoy ourselves tomorrow morning before the wedding.’
‘Wedding? What wedding?’ Saskia asked.
‘You’ll see.’ Rick laughed and tapped the end of her nose with his finger. ‘You’ll see.’
SIX
Must-Do list
Be sure to buy Alpine red and white fabric to make Christmas soft furnishings and decorations. Take photos of the window displays for ideas.
The wine and cuisine from this part of France is very interesting and delicious. Pick up some recipe books and ideas.
Never forget that Rick is a salesman and try not to weaken in this gorgeous chalet with its amazing views.
‘I can’t begin to describe how gorgeous this chalet is,’ Saskia whispered with a long sigh. ‘Think tourist postcards of the Alps. All golden wood and snow-capped mountain views with ancient wooden skis stacked in the hall. And window boxes. Rick has window boxes with real red balcony geraniums hanging out of them. I didn’t expect that.’
Just like I didn’t expect him to back me up yesterday after the Chateau Morel.
‘The fiend,’ Kate sniffed, and Saskia could tell that her friend had the phone jammed in the corner between her chin and her shoulder. ‘Log cabins and mountain views? I think you should call the authorities immediately. The next thing you know, he will be opening doors for you and helping you on with your coat. I can see it now. All part of his ruthless plan to lower your resistance and make you like him!’
‘Well, it�
��s working. Coat. Tick. Doors. Tick. He even brought my suitcase inside and insisted on taking me out to dinner last night. Which was amazing. I had no idea that Savoyard food was so delicious. And of course he knows everyone. So they immediately thought that I was, and I quote—“his new squeeze”. Hah! As if.’
‘You tell them,’ Kate replied. ‘Your standards are much higher. Sort of. Well, they would be if you ever actually dated, but you know what I mean. Higher. Who wants a tall, dark and handsome hunk on her arm anyhow? Oh no. Or should that be yes?’
‘Well, thanks. You are a lot of help.’
‘You don’t need help. You have never needed help,’ Kate laughed. ‘So, just for once, go with the flow and see where it takes you! How about that for an idea? Oh—must go. My client has arrived and this jacket is still missing a pocket. Bye!’
‘Bye,’ Saskia replied, but Kate had already gone. Busy as always. Which was great. Kate had worked hard to make her fashion design business a success. But it didn’t stop her from worrying about Elwood House, no matter how wonderful the diversion.
Saskia sat back in her comfy bedroom chair and stared out of the square wooden window at the stunning view of Mont Blanc set against a bright blue sky. It was so perfect that it could have been a framed photograph instead of a real, huge, snow-covered mountain.
When they’d driven into Chamonix the previous evening the sun was starting to set behind Mont Blanc and the whole peak and the glacier that streamed down into their valley had been touched with a strange pink glow which she had never seen before. It was almost as if the mountains were blushing.
Well, she knew all about that. She hadn’t been joking about the good-natured teasing Rick had received from the locals and restaurant staff about his new lady friend—her! Introducing her as a business colleague had made them laugh even louder. If she picked up the accent correctly, it was very rare for Rick to bring anyone but fellow professional sportsmen to his chalet, and never a woman, so she was a definite first.
In Chamonix, Rick was very much a man’s man.
Perhaps that was why he was so keen to say goodnight as soon as they’d got back to the chalet?
Not that she was complaining. Far from it. She had been treated to a delicious meal with local wine and was feeling a lot mellower when she walked through the door into the warm and cosy log cabin.
It simply would have been nice to talk about his plans for his programme of vineyard visits without an audience within earshot of everything that they were saying. She had so many questions. And so few answers.
Starting with the wedding she had been invited to today.
It was a lovely idea, but they didn’t have time to go to his friends’ wedding. She needed to get back to work on her plans for Elwood House and go through the vineyard production forecasts Rick had promised he would provide, rather than wedding plans. But he had refused to take no for an answer.
All Rick would say was that it was one of the ten couples whose wine they would be selling, and that was it! No details at all.
Rick Burgess seriously needed to work on his communication skills.
Time to help him with that. Starting right now!
Saskia stood up and checked her side and front view in the mirror. The wedding was not until that afternoon so she could be smart casual for a few hours. Fitted three-quarter length black trousers and black medium heels. High-neck ivory silk shirt. Hair sleeked back. Discreet make-up. Simple jewellery. Yes. That would do for any impromptu business meetings he might have set up to surprise her.
Because, one way or another, she needed to get this business trip back on track and focused on the work. Even if she was enjoying herself far more than she was prepared to admit.
She lifted her chin and saluted her reflection with a grin. All present and correct. Ready to face the world.
She marched over and flung open the bedroom door. And stood there. Frozen.
Because Rick was standing next to the dining room table, surrounded by what looked to her like the entire contents of a camping store. With extras. He was wearing black ski wear which clung to the bands of muscles across his chest and abdomen. And hot did not come close to describing how fit he looked.
‘Dare I ask?’ she muttered.
He looked up and smiled in a totally casual and relaxed fashion. ‘Morning. Hope you slept well.’
‘Very well, thank you. And please explain.’
He gestured with his head towards the table. ‘Help yourself to breakfast and I’ll do my best. We’re setting off in about an hour.’
Saskia made her way carefully across the floor by standing on tiptoe to avoid treading on the equipment. Laid on the table was a wonderful platter of continental cooked meats, cheese and Danish pastries and croissants. Fresh butter and jams. Fruit. ‘You must have been up early. But why are you dressed like that? I thought we had a business meeting today and an hour doesn’t seem long enough.’
Rick nodded and adjusted something which had the word ‘Altimeter’ on the side before setting it down next to his plate. ‘Small town. Baker and supermarket are right next to each other. Makes it easy.’
He pointed with the end of a hand-held radio to a ceramic pot covered with a red and white checked fabric circle. ‘Try the wild blueberry jam. My neighbour collected the berries this week high on the mountain; it’s pretty good. And relax, I haven’t forgotten what we are here for.’
Saskia sat down and broke up a croissant and piled it with the jam. He was right, it was amazing. Almost as good as the view of her host, who was standing right in front of a large glass-panelled door which led out onto a wooden veranda. There was a perfect backdrop of green forest, blue sky and the snow-white mountain Mont Blanc behind his head and a professional stylist could not have created a better composition in a million years.
And, just like that, something flipped deep inside Saskia’s stomach and she slowed down to appreciate every mouthful of her breakfast, and every eyeful.
Rick really was spectacular.
Also a mind-reader because, just as she was ogling his chest, Rick glanced around at her and caught her in the act and grinned that knowing kind of grin which made it ten times worse. Saskia knew that her neck was flaming red as she blushed, especially wearing a pale shirt, but there was nothing she could do about it. So she loaded up her plate from the platter instead.
‘You were about to tell me where we are off to,’ she said in a calm, controlled voice, knowing all the while that it wasn’t fooling him in the slightest.
‘A treat for you.’ He smiled and strolled over with a pot of the most delicious-smelling coffee and poured her a cup. ‘After weeks on the road, I needed to step away from the business and get back to my life. But today? Today, I think it’s time for you to meet one of our ten growers.’
‘Good idea.’ She nodded. ‘Is the vineyard very far? I need ten minutes to charge my laptop and camera and I’ll be ready to take minutes.’
‘Just in the next valley, but that’s not where we’re going. Oh no. Jean Baptiste has a passion for flying as well as grapes. Time to show you just how much fun you can have if you team up with me.’
The buttered slice of baguette halted halfway to her lips. ‘Flying?’ she whimpered.
‘Of course. We. Are going paragliding. Saskia? Are you okay? You are looking a little pale.’
She just managed to put her breakfast down without dropping it.
‘Paragliding,’ she whispered, feeling that her throat was full of breadcrumbs.
‘Sure,’ Rick replied, stuffing all kinds of helmets and equipment into a huge backpack. ‘Burgess Wine sponsors the local paragliding club and I won a few championships a couple of years ago and like to keep up the practice. Have you ever tried it yourself?’
Saskia blinked at him and tried to form a sensible reply but gave up. ‘Is that where you tie a parachute to your back and jump off a cliff and hope the chute slows you down before you hit the ground?’
‘Not quite, but you have
the general idea about controlling the descent with a canopy.’
She inhaled slowly and decided to break the bad news all at once.
‘I am really sorry, especially since you stuck your neck out for me yesterday, but I have vertigo on a stepladder and have to pay people to climb up and clean my bedroom windows because I can’t lean out and do it myself.’
She shook her head slowly from side to side. ‘I don’t do heights.’
His hands stilled and he looked at her, eyebrows high. ‘Seriously?’
‘Seriously.’ She nodded very slowly, up and down. Twice.
‘Oh—’ he sniffed ‘—not a problem. You can jump onto my harness and I can fly you down in tandem. I do it all the time and you don’t weigh a thing. Wait and see, you’ll enjoy it. But er...’ His gaze scanned her from head to toe and then back up again and there was just enough of a cheeky grin on his face to make her want to cover her chest with a cushion. ‘You might want to change your clothes. Have you brought any ski wear?’
She narrowed her eyes and tilted her head slightly to one side before replying. ‘Strange. As a matter of fact, I have not. You see, I packed for a business trip. Fancy that!’
* * *
An hour later, Saskia had changed into cold weather layers, survived being driven by Rick to a ski lift at breakneck speed and then a hair-raising trip trapped inside a glass-sided gondola which took twenty minutes to climb up the side of the valley wall.
The good news was that Rick had kept her talking and focused on him for the whole journey and she had not lost her breakfast as the gondola slid up the loose cable, juddering along every pole before coming to a gentle swaying halt at the top.
It was almost worth it for the views. Stepping out from the ski station, Saskia was hit square between the eyes by a panorama of the snow-covered mountains on each side of the valley that was so breathtakingly lovely that she forgot that she was supposed to be scared for all of five minutes—before she turned around and saw Rick talking to another man carrying another huge backpack.
Blame It on the Champagne Page 8
