Captivated by the Brooding Billionaire

by Rebecca Winters

  Abby knew that would be the girls’ reaction. “I feel the same way. Since we’re in Europe, where would you guys like to go? I need to conserve my funds, but I’ve been budgeting in my mind. I believe I have enough money to spend two weeks here. What about you two?”

  They both figured two weeks would be all they could afford.

  “Any ideas where you’d like to go?”

  Zoe took a deep breath. “If I had the chance, I’d fly back to Greece in a minute.”

  That didn’t surprise Abby. Their divorced friend hadn’t said anything, but Abby sensed there was a man involved. “What part exactly?”

  “Patras. I didn’t get to spend nearly enough time in that area.”

  “Maybe we could take a small tour of some of the Greek Islands too. What do you think, Ginger?”

  “Not that I wouldn’t love to travel there, but to be honest, I’d rather go back to Italy. There’s so much to see and it’s so glorious. I couldn’t get enough of it.” By the tone in her voice, Abby wondered if Ginger had also experienced some kind of romantic interest.

  As for Abby, she’d met a mysterious Frenchman earlier today, but it was best she never saw him again. “Where do you want to visit in Italy, Ginger?”

  “Venice. It’s the most romantic city on earth.”

  Well, well. Their friend did have a reason to want to go back. Abby was sure of it.

  “I have an idea. If we pool our resources, we can afford a two-week vacation. Maybe we could drive to Venice tomorrow and spend a few days there before visiting Rome. From there we’ll fly to Patras and tour around that area for a week before we go back to California. What do you think?”

  Ginger looked at Zoe before she said, “What do you want to do, Abby?”

  She wanted to stay longer and see if she could find that rumored poem, but it probably didn’t exist. “I’ve been living in Switzerland since January and am ready for a new adventure.” Which was true.

  “Not even one guy has caught your eye who wants you to hang around?”

  Zoe had just given herself away.

  Abby shook her head. “I’m not ready to meet a man.”

  Ginger’s eyebrows shot up. “You will be when the right one comes along.”

  Someone out of this world had come along earlier today, but she needed to run from him and keep running. “Let’s change the subject. Are you guys on board with our plans?”

  “According to Magda, we have to visit the Maison Cailler Chocolate Factory in Broc,” Zoe interjected. “She has already paid for us to take the tour. Why don’t we at least do that tomorrow to make her happy?”

  Abby eyed them both. “I toured that plant in March. It’s really worth the time. While you do that, I’d like to do a little more research on Byron while we’re in St. Saphorin.

  “Maybe you guys should drop me off at the local library in the village. That’s one place I haven’t visited. Then I’ll walk back to the farmhouse and wait for you. If you two leave in the morning, you’ll be back by afternoon and we can leave for Italy.” Magda was funding their rental car.

  They agreed it was a great idea and drove back to the château. If Raoul Decorvet was still around in the morning, Abby didn’t plan to be here. She would be insane to hope they might see each other again. She had the fear that getting involved with a man who made her feel this besotted without even knowing him could destroy her.

  * * *

  After a shower and shave, Raoul Capet Regnac Decorvet, the elder son of the duke of the Vosne-Romanée region in the Burgundy department of France, concluded his business with the new owner of La Floraison.

  Once Raoul had assured him he’d be back at the end of June to tie up any loose ends, he hung up the phone and ate the breakfast Gabrielle had brought to his room in the château. He drank more coffee and made half a dozen calls to members of his staff while he looked down from the upstairs window that faced the courtyard.

  The three women had left early in their rental car and hadn’t returned. He knew from Gabrielle they hadn’t checked out. To his shock, Mademoiselle Grant hadn’t left his thoughts all night. He was overwhelmed by unfamiliar feelings for her that made him desperate to see her again. It astounded him he should have these desires when he’d only spent a few minutes with her. Nothing like this had ever happened to him in his life.

  Raoul had of course enjoyed relationships with women from time to time growing up. It had been his destiny to marry the woman his father had demanded he marry, but he had felt nothing like this. Two years ago his wife and baby had tragically died in a car accident. Since then he’d been a slave to work.

  When he came to Switzerland on business, he’d never dreamed he’d meet a woman who seemed to have invaded his mind, his psyche, his body the way she’d done yesterday. He couldn’t explain it, but her effect on him had brought him alive.

  His senses were involved from the moment he’d seen her sitting on the bench at the train station seemingly happy on her own. She’d made a breathtaking picture.

  The sun’s rays had turned her hair to liquid gold. Instead of wearing sunglasses like the typical tourist, she’d been drinking in the landscape and had that look of a young woman on the brink of life.

  He could feel her reacting to everything she saw. It made him breathless with excitement to observe her. She’d been in sync with his emotions when she’d wanted to know about that fragrance in the air. That aspect of her had fascinated him on a level that went deep beneath the surface.

  There was a quality of innocence that appealed to him too. A gift like that wasn’t present in the women who inhabited his world and certainly not within the confines of his own family. If innocence had been there once upon a time, their lifestyle and entitlements had robbed them of such an enticing virtue.

  Why did he have to discover it now, with this woman who would be returning to the States shortly? She could never mean anything to him. Yet she already did mean something to him in a way that was so profound he couldn’t let it go.

  Lines darkened his Gallic features. They would never cross paths again unless he made it happen. The longer he sat there, the stronger his resolve grew to see her again. He needed to explore these powerful feelings or lose his mind.

  While he contemplated an idea that had been percolating in his brain all through the night, his cell rang. It was his private secretary getting back to him. He picked up.

  “Félix?”

  “You were right. Jules didn’t think it was time yet, but he checked and said black rot has shown up in the terroir to the north.”

  “I knew it,” Raoul murmured. “The weather has been warmer than usual. Even though I’ll be home tomorrow, tell him to get started on the fungicide immediately. By now the infection is releasing spores.”

  “I’ll get right on it.”

  “Don’t let him put up an argument. The spray will stop this infection prior to the bloom period. Last year the spore production didn’t happen this soon. I’ve told Jules all along this has to be checked every year due to weather changes. We may have to add an additional fungicide application after blooming occurs. Tell him I’ll talk to him tomorrow.”

  Raoul hung up in time to see Mademoiselle Grant come walking up the drive. His pulse raced to realize she wasn’t with her friends. He watched her pause at the vegetable garden to inspect some of the plants. She’d dressed in jeans and a short-sleeved green top, darker than her amazing eyes. On her feet she wore shoes for hiking.

  He reached for his phone and keys, then left the room in jeans and a T-shirt to catch up with her before she disappeared. On his way out the door, he told Gabrielle he would inspect the château’s powerboat to make sure it was in good shape for the new owner.

  By the time he reached the outside, he glimpsed the younger woman walking along one of the vineyard paths beyond the vegetable garden. He strode toward her, admiring
her shapely body as she paused to lean over and smell the flowers.

  She must have sensed him coming and turned in his direction. Her gaze wandered over him as if she were startled to see him. “Hello. I had no idea you were still on the property. I guess I assumed you had real estate business elsewhere.”

  “I’ve only been here a few days. Tomorrow I’ll be leaving for home.”

  “Does that mean you have a wife waiting for you?”

  “No. I was married—” He hesitated, somehow knowing that he could confide in this beautiful stranger. “Tragically my wife and our baby died in a car crash two years ago. Angélique was coming home from her parents’ château five kilometers away and was involved in an accident. The other driver was to blame.”

  Abby’s eyes closed tightly. “I can’t even imagine it.” The brooding pain he exuded was no longer a mystery.

  “Neither could I at the time, but it’s in the past. What about your plans?”

  “My friends and I will be leaving soon too. This morning they drove me into the village, then they went to tour the chocolate factory in Broc. I’ve already seen it and wanted to do some research. I expect they’ll be back any minute now so I decided to stay out here and wait for them.”

  He frowned. “I thought I’d made it clear you’re welcome to stay at La Floraison through the end of June.”

  “You did, but we talked about it and just don’t feel it’s right.”

  Raoul sucked in his breath. He knew she’d felt that way the moment he’d given her the news about Auguste. On reflection, he found it unusual that these women chose not to take advantage of the situation. Again, he found himself admiring her. “Does that mean you’re flying back to the States?”

  “Not yet. We’re going to gallivant for two weeks in Italy and Greece. Then we’ll go home.”

  “Not France?” He didn’t want her to leave.

  “I’d go there in a shot, but the girls have been doing research in Italy and Greece since January. It’s hard for them to leave, so they want to go back one last time now that they have the chance.”

  “What about you?”

  “I’ve been working here in Switzerland.”

  He needed to know a lot more about her. “You’ve been here all this time?”

  “Yes, but now I’m anxious for a change.”

  “Mademoiselle Grant,” he began, “I have to take the château’s boat out for a run on the lake to make sure it’s in top order before I report to Louis. How would you like to go with me so we can continue our conversation? I’ll drive us to the dock in their car.”

  “I’d better not. I can’t swim.”

  Raoul could feel her pushing away from him, but in his gut he knew she wanted to go with him. There’d been an instant attraction between them.

  “That’s what life preservers are for. Can you imagine an accident happening in this giant bathtub of a lake? You can’t even hear a lapping wave on the shore.”

  “You mean you think it’s too placid?”

  “Let’s just say I can only take the peaceful ambience in doses.”

  “Our boss has led such a hectic life in Los Angeles, I can understand why she loves to come here every year to regenerate. She’s a very generous woman to have offered us this vacation.”

  “I agree. Why don’t you risk it and come with me? I can swim.”

  She looked hesitant. “I’d better not. I don’t want to miss my friends.”

  Whatever was going on in her mind, he wasn’t going to let her get away with it. “You have a phone.”

  “I know, but—”

  “We wouldn’t be gone long. I only need enough time to check out the engine and would like the company.”

  He heard her take a deep breath. “All right.”

  The chemistry between them was alive. She couldn’t fight it any more than he could. If she’d said no, he would have been forced to come up with another ploy to spend time with her.

  They started walking toward the Renault. He helped her into the car and drove them to the pier. The cabin cruiser was a few years old, but looked to be in good shape. Raoul walked along the dock and guided her into the boat. The first thing he did was hand her a life jacket.

  “Thank you. What about you?”

  Was she worried about him? He liked the idea of that. “If I need to, I’ll grab one.”

  Raoul would have loved to help her put it on, but worried he wouldn’t be able to restrain himself, he jumped back out to untie the ropes, then climbed in to start the engine. Once he’d backed out at a no-wake speed, he took off. Being with this woman was like a breath of fresh air.

  She didn’t have an agenda that prompted her to ask a lot of questions. He decided she was at peace with herself and seemed to enjoy the world around her. Raoul believed she was the kind of woman you could be with and not have to make conversation if you didn’t want to.

  “Why don’t you sit opposite me?”

  She sank down and glanced in the direction of the sailboats. “There’s no wind. How sad they have to rely on motors.”

  Her comment was the same one he’d reflected on while being here. “Where have you been living in Switzerland?”

  Abby eyed him curiously. “All over. Grindelwald, Lauterbrunnen, Mürren, Interlaken, Lake Thun, the Reichenbach and Staubbach Falls, Montreux, Geneva, Cologny.”

  “Why?”

  “I guess you wouldn’t know why our boss gave us this vacation.”

  “I only recall that she’s a movie director in your country who was friends with Auguste.”

  “That’s right. Magda is working on her most important film to date. It’s a new look at the life of George Gordon Noel Byron, the Sixth Baron Byron, known as Lord Byron. She needs new eyes for fresh research to make the script authentic. The girls and I were picked to help because we teach college students about the romance writers of the early nineteenth century.”

  Abby Grant was an expert on Lord Byron?

  The coincidence of meeting her at all, let alone here in St. Saphorin, where Auguste had made his find years ago, blew Raoul away. Excitement filled his body.

  He shut off the engine so they could really talk. “You’re all university professors?” He was still incredulous.

  “Not tenured yet, but one day. Our goal has been to help supplement the script with new facts and a different look. There’s been so much material written about Byron, but Magda has been hoping for something more. So have I.”

  “In what sense?”

  “I’d hoped to come across a poem he was supposed to have written while he was in Switzerland. The girls dropped me off at the village library this morning so I could do a little investigating, but nothing came of it so I walked back here. Of course no one in the last one hundred and ninety years has ever pretended to find it, so maybe it doesn’t exist.”

  This woman was not only intelligent, she had an enquiring mind that made her a very exciting person. Raoul’s heart pounded like a war drum. “Did it have a title?”

  “Yes. Something like Labyrinths, but there was another part to it. I don’t know exactly.”

  “‘Labyrinths of Lavaux’.” Raoul could tell her it did exist and where to find it! Chills ran up and down his spine.

  “For the last five months we’ve been doing research in the different parts of Europe where Byron traveled. Magda’s goal is to illuminate Byron’s virtues and leave the negatives alone.”

  “Now I understand,” he murmured. “You’ve been following his travels here with Shelley and Mary Godwin that put the Swiss Riviera on the map.”

  A quiet smile curved the corners of her delectable mouth. “I can see you’re well-informed. Do you want to know something funny he wrote in his journal? When he left the mountains and returned to Lac Léman he said, ‘The wild part of our tour is finished...my journal must be as flat as my
journey.’”

  Raoul was impressed with her knowledge, but his thoughts were racing. “He could have been reading our minds right now.”

  “Exactly. Too much peace and tranquility needs some stirring up. Byron saw nature as a companion to humanity. Certainly natural beauty was often preferable to human evil and the problems attendant upon civilization, but Byron also recognized nature’s dangerous and harsh elements.

  “Have you ever read ‘The Prisoner of Chillon’? It connects nature to freedom, while at the same time showing nature’s potentially deadly aspects in the harsh waves that seem to threaten to flood the dungeon during a storm and—” But she suddenly stopped speaking.

  “Please go on,” he urged her.

  “Sorry. I forgot I wasn’t teaching a class. Though I’m ready to move on with the girls tomorrow, I’ll never be sorry I was sent here to work. I’ve always had a special love for that poem.”

  “We’re looking at the Château de Chillon right now.” The lake steamer had pulled up to its dock.

  She nodded. “It’s a magnificent château. I’ve been through it half a dozen times, but after seeing the dungeon where the Swiss patriot Bonivard was imprisoned, I’ve been haunted by Byron’s words.”

  “Can you quote any of it?”

  Her eyes lit up. “Would you believe I memorized all 392 lines in high school for a contest?”

  There was fire in her. He sat back against the side of the boat. “Did you win?”

  “Would it sound like bragging if I said yes?”

  She was getting to him in ways he would never have imagined. “I bet you could still recite it.”

  Abby shook her head. “That was too long ago.”

  He leaned forward. “I know I read it in my teens with my grandfather who loved Byron’s works, but I would be hopeless to recall it. Come on. Give me a taste of it. We’re right here where he was inspired. Enchant me.”

  She cocked her blond head. “Maybe some of the first part.”

  “I’m waiting.” Mon Dieu—he was far too attracted to her for only having known her such a short time. Whatever was happening to him had come like a bolt out of the blue and wasn’t about to go away.