At the Chateau for Christmas

by Rebecca Winters

  “It’s evident this was a task you would have done anything to avoid. Your loyalty to your grandfather deserves a medal. I suppose the least I can do is thank you for tearing yourself away from business to come all this way with her body.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  His cool reply had her floundering. Clearly this man found his errand repugnant. But as much as she knew anything, she realized he was a true gentleman, a quality she valued highly in a man. Otherwise he would have flung all this in her face with the greatest of pleasure. His restraint taught her a lot about his character, adding to the potent charisma no man of her acquaintance possessed.

  He got out of the back to help her. As her body brushed against his by accident, an unlooked-for awareness of his male presence leaped to life, threatening her in ways she’d never experienced before. The knowledge that he was married only made her reaction to him that much more shocking. She clutched the photos and cards before running toward the building without looking back.

  * * *

  “Telephone, Nic. Line two.”

  Nic had been making corrections to a drawing on the computer. “Merci, Robert.”

  After three years, his stomach no longer clenched every time a call came through for him, whether it was on his cell or the landline at work. For the first year following his wife’s disappearance, he’d imagined every call would be from Lt. Thibault, the investigating detective on the other end, phoning to give him news of Dorine.

  “It’s five. I’m heading home and will see you after Christmas.”

  That’s right. It was December 23. Nic’s assistant, Robert, was going home to a wife and two children. Nic wouldn’t be going home to anyone. Except to spend a little time with his family and siblings, he would work through this holiday.

  Three years ago he and Dorine had spent Christmas with her family in Grenoble. They’d only been married five months before her disappearance in January. Their marriage had been of too short a duration to put down roots with children.

  Robert paused at the door. “Thanks for the gifts. Pierre and Nicole will love them.”

  He lifted his head. “My pleasure.”

  “Nic—everyone at the research park is hoping Père Noël will bring some news that will give you closure, mon ami.”

  “After three years that hope is all but gone, but I appreciate the thought. Joyeux Noël.”

  Once the door closed, he pressed line two, putting the call on speakerphone while he worked. “This is Nic Valfort.”

  “Mr. Valfort? This is Laura Tate.”

  His head flew back, recognizing her California accent. That was another trait she had in common with Irene. Instead of forgetting this woman, to his amazement she’d managed to intrude into his thoughts. Up until he’d flown to San Francisco, his love for Dorine and the reason for her disappearance had been the only things on his mind.

  Several times in the limo parked in front of Holden headquarters over a week ago, he’d heard little sobs catch in her throat. He’d had difficulty reconciling Ms. Tate’s icy demeanor at one moment and the tears that welled in her eyes in the next. She was an enigma he didn’t want to think about. There’d been no word from her since they’d talked.

  To his chagrin the two questions she’d asked him had left an indelible impression. Once he’d told her he knew Irene well, her question about her grandmother’s happiness with Maurice had haunted him. Had it been a ploy to convince him she cared when she didn’t? Had she hoped to give the impression she wasn’t the unfeeling person he’d imagined when they both knew the truth?

  The seven-day window he’d given her to meet with the attorney had already closed, so he couldn’t understand why she was calling.

  “Is this a bad time, Mr. Valfort?”

  Bad wasn’t the right word. More that he’d been in a state of grief-stricken limbo for an endless period of time without knowing the whereabouts of his wife. If she’d run off with another man, he was still having trouble believing it. The woman he’d fallen in love with couldn’t have done it, but his sessions with the psychiatrist convinced him it was possible.

  Any other reasons why she’d disappeared had tortured him for so long he was desperate for any news, no matter how ghastly, in order to have closure. As for his grandfather, he was in bad emotional shape for another reason. Maurice had lost two women he’d loved and married. In his grief for Irene, he didn’t know what to do with himself.

  Both womanless men made a pitiful pair. Might as well answer this woman’s question with one of his own. “What can I do for you, Ms. Tate?”

  “Am I too late to meet with the attorney?”

  He grimaced. She couldn’t manage to see her grandmother in life, but she wanted to know what her grandmother had left her in death. How predictable. “You’ve missed the deadline by two days. He’s already left on vacation.”

  A small cry of frustration escaped her throat. “I was afraid of that. Because of some personal matters and the graveside service for her, I couldn’t get here any sooner.”

  His thoughts reeled. “Here? As in—”

  “I’m at the airport in Nice.”

  Nic’s adrenaline kicked in for no good reason. He jumped up from his swivel chair in surprise. “How did you get here? On a commercial plane?” She hadn’t called to arrange for the Valfort jet.

  “The way most people do.”

  Most people? “Not the Holden corporate jet?”

  “I’m not that high up the chain.”

  “Not yet, you mean.”

  “In other words you’re assuming I’m an ambitious female working my way up to the top of the Holden Corporation. Haven’t you learned yet? It’s still a man’s world in certain venues. Shall we get straight to the point? Your grandfather was decent enough to take care of the arrangements for my grandmother and send you to do his errand. That was more than my family could ever have expected. But I would never have taken him up on his offer to fly me here.”

  Nic’s brows furrowed in resentment. Maurice had bent over backward trying to do the right thing. “It’s too bad you’ve wasted a trip. Call me in two months. By then the attorney will be back and you can make arrangements to collect your inheritance.”

  “Whatever you insist on believing, I have no interest in one.” After a slight pause, she said, “I should have phoned first, but as you say, it’s too late now. Before I turn around and fly back, do you think your grandfather would accept a phone call from me? Or is his opinion of me as bad as yours?”

  That all depended on how grasping she was. If she thought she could get Maurice to tell her what her grandmother had left her in the will before the attorney could read it to her, then she was in for a big surprise.

  “Hello? Mr. Valfort? Are you still there?”

  “Yes.” But he wasn’t sure he wanted her to talk to his grandfather right off. Maurice had tender feelings for Irene’s granddaughter even though he’d never met her. Nic didn’t want him hurt because Laura hadn’t inherited Irene’s sweetness. Death had a way of making all of them vulnerable one way or another. He needed to vet her first.

  “My grandfather isn’t available right now. Give me fifteen minutes and I’ll pick you up at the airport terminal.”

  “That won’t be necessary. I’ll go to a hotel to call him and fly home in the morning.”

  “I’m afraid it’s very necessary if you hope to make contact with him.”

  “You mean I have to get past you first.”

  He bit down hard. “He’s in deep grief, Ms. Tate. I want to protect him. You and I need to talk first, but not over the phone.”

  That seemed to take her by surprise. “Well, if you’re sure you don’t mind—”

  Mind? She could have no idea how determined he was to find out what she was up to.

  “My grandfather wou
ld expect me to accommodate you.”

  “But this will be putting you out.”

  Now she was going polite on him? He frowned. Was it part of her act? Whatever, she was doing a good job of it. “Au contraire. Since you want to talk to him, something I didn’t expect from you, my grandfather would never forgive me if I ignored your request and let you get away.”

  Nic hated to admit it to himself, but he was curious to see her again. Maybe the second time around she wouldn’t impact him in the same way as before. It was something he had to find out.

  A pause ensued. “I know this is another one of those tasks you don’t want to do.”

  He let go of the breath he was holding. “You’re wrong. This is the one Christmas present my grandfather hadn’t counted on.” If she was sincere, her arrival might just have saved Maurice from falling into a slump he’d never climb out of. Nic needed time to find out if avarice had brought her here or not. “Watch for me in front of the terminal. I’ll be driving a four-door black Mercedes.”

  “I’ll be there.”

  He heard the click. Making one of his gut decisions, Nic decided to take her to his house. That way no one in his family would know what was going on. Their disapproval of Maurice marrying a foreigner had never truly gone away.

  Now the gorgeous granddaughter had arrived. Out of the frying pan...

  Laura’s physical resemblance to Irene would be a doubly powerful reminder of the woman who’d captured Maurice’s heart. Depending on the outcome, more underlying animosity was in store. This had to be handled discreetly for now. Nic and his grandfather had always enjoyed a certain affinity. His loyalty to the older man had never been in question and he wasn’t about to desert him now.

  Since his grandfather wouldn’t be eating dinner for several hours yet, Nic would make the phone call from his den once she was ensconced. They’d proceed from there.

  He drove out of his parking spot and wound around the technology park to the main road leading to the airport. Day before yesterday he’d decided he wouldn’t be hearing from Ms. Tate again, but he hadn’t had the heart to tell his grandfather yet. Now he wouldn’t have to.

  Though the sun had set, she wasn’t difficult to spot. Like Irene, she had incredible dress sense. When Nic pulled up to the terminal, he saw that Laura drew a lot of attention in a long-sleeved speckled-tweed jacket and slim skirt. The form-fitting dove-gray outfit had white lace appliqués and fringe trim on the jacket. The effect, combined with the silvery-gold glints in her hair, had captured his attention.

  * * *

  Her impact on him was even more forceful than the first time. He levered himself from the car and walked around. She carried only one suitcase. Nic helped her inside and stowed it in the backseat. A light, flowery fragrance assailed his senses. “You travel light.”

  “I didn’t plan to be here more than a few days. Thank you for coming to get me, Mr. Valfort.” That sounded halfway sincere.

  “Nic.” He was tired of the senseless formality.

  “In that case, call me Laura. I made reservations ahead of time at the Boscolo Excedra. If you wouldn’t mind dropping me there.” That five-star hotel had recently been restored with a futuristic-themed bar. No surprise she knew about it.

  “My grandfather wouldn’t hear of it. Maurice asked me to take care of you before I left for California. For the time being, you’ll stay at my home. I’ll drive you there now and we’ll get in touch with him.”

  Nic felt her glance. “Does your wife know you’ll be bringing someone home with you? No woman likes to be unprepared for an unexpected guest.”

  She’d noticed his wedding ring, of course. He pulled into traffic. “As it happens, my wife is away for the present.” She was away, maybe somewhere still on earth, but more likely in heaven. He had no proof of either status. “My staff will see to your comfort. If Dorine were here, she’d want to meet you.”

  His wife hadn’t been a Valfort and she’d liked Irene very much. At this point he realized he’d been thinking of Dorine in the past tense for a long time now. No stone had been unturned, no expense had been too great to find out what had happened to her, but there’d been no trace. During the first year, he’d lived for news of her. But for the last two years, he’d had the feeling in his gut she was gone forever. Like Irene...

  Before long he took a turnoff and entered a wooded area that led to his home overlooking the coast. Dorine had loved the setting on sight and begged him to buy it before their wedding took place. Not too small, not too large. Perfect for several children who hadn’t had time to come along. Empty as a tomb with no one home except the efficient husband-and-wife staff who took care of things.

  * * *

  Provence come to life!

  This villa with its red-tiled roof looked like one of the fabulous Provençal properties featured in high-end magazines sold throughout the world. Laura’s eyelids smarted with salty tears when she realized Irene would have been here many times enjoying the cypress trees and view of the blue Mediterranean.

  Laura had traveled to Europe on several occasions and had been to Paris, but she’d avoided the South of France for fear the temptation to drop in on her grandmother would be too great.

  What a colossal fool she’d been to honor her mother’s wishes to such a great extent! In doing so she’d denied herself the opportunity to know the woman Laura’s grandfather Richard had loved and married.

  “Does your mother know you’ve come?” Nic’s deep voice broke in on her anguished thoughts.

  “Yes.” She bit her lip. “She couldn’t stop me. We had a fight.”

  “You mean she tried to?”

  “Yes, but I refused to listen. I told Mother she was inhuman to be upset with me now that Irene was dead. I wish I hadn’t said it, but I did. Now I have another regret to live with.”

  There’d been unpleasantness with Adam, too. The man she’d been seeing over the last few months hadn’t wanted her to leave without him. He was getting much too serious. This unexpected trip would give her a needed break from him over the holidays.

  His aggression had made her uncomfortable. Maybe her mom had been right—she’d hinted that Adam was ambitious and wanted more than her love. After the way he’d reacted before she’d flown here, Laura had begun to fear the same thing, considering a fortune lay behind her name. Because of the painful history that had beset the Holden family, she had major trust issues. Laura wasn’t sure she wanted to be with him anymore.

  “Family loyalty has its price,” Nic murmured, sounding distanced. “You’d be surprised how many times in the past I had to stop myself from phoning to demand you come and visit your grandmother. She loved you a great deal, but my grandfather wouldn’t have approved, so I didn’t act on my instincts. He always hoped you’d come on your own.”

  His admission tugged at her heart. “No matter how much I love my mother, I should have followed my instincts, too. Now it’s too late.” She moaned the words. “Sometimes family loyalty demands too much, in this case more than I can bear—”

  At this point she had the impression he didn’t know if he could believe anything she said. That was trouble with a tragedy that had torn families apart. She didn’t know if she could believe anything he said, either, but she was here now. For the sake of the grandmother she’d always loved in her heart, she wanted some answers.

  Laura got out of his car before he could help her. The best thing she could do was avoid getting too close so they couldn’t possibly touch. Despite his poor opinion of her, she was afraid her attraction to him wasn’t going to go away. It was madness that she felt this awareness of him. He was a married man, for heaven’s sake!

  Nic reached for her suitcase and walked her to the entrance. The minute he opened the door to the foyer, a large manger scene placed on the credenza greeted her vision. Moving on into the living room,
it felt as though she’d stepped into a painting by Matisse, her favorite Impressionist.

  The interior reminded her of his work The Black Table. Wonderful dark flooring and beams set a backdrop for flowers, blue-and-white-colored prints, priceless ceramics and paintings. Beyond the French doors was a view of the sea dotted with sailboats, even though it was winter.

  She wheeled around. “Your home is wonderful!” The compliment flew out of her mouth without conscious thought.

  “Thank you.” He lowered her suitcase. The man had a brooding sophistication he didn’t seem to be aware of. “If you’d like to freshen up, there’s a bathroom off the guest bedroom on your left at the end of the hall.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Are you hungry? Thirsty?”

  “I ate before I got off the plane, but maybe some coffee?”

  “I’ll ask my housekeeper to prepare it and take your bag to your room.”

  He was giving her the opportunity to compose herself. Nic had his emotions well under control—unlike Laura—and seemed to sense instinctively what she needed. The consummate host.

  On her way back to the living room, she stopped to look at the photographs hanging in the hallway. One of the groupings caught her interest. The French-looking brunette in the photos had to be his wife. She was a cute little thing with stylish short hair. They were laughing together.

  Laura couldn’t imagine feeling that happy and carefree. It depressed her that she’d never had a relationship like that. The more she thought about it, the more she knew she would have to end it with Adam. They didn’t bring out the best in each other. Look at the way Nic and his wife glowed in the photograph. You could feel their happiness.

  Upset by her thoughts, she returned to the front room and found a tray of coffee and variety of cookies waiting for her. Nic was on the phone speaking his native tongue and stood behind one of the two sofas facing each other. Separating them was a tiled coffee table with a large copper tub filled with fresh-cut blue and red anemones.

  While she waited for him, Laura wandered over to the doors. In the twilight, the terraced garden below the villa had taken on a surreal beauty.