With This Ring

by Jean Saunders

  “Can you be ready to fly to Bordeaux next Friday? I’ve cleared it with your managing director,” Claude said calmly.

  Her mouth dropped open. Lance hadn’t said anything about dates, but there was no disputing the assurance in Claude’s voice. If he said he’d cleared it with Lance, then he had.

  “I don’t know that I can —” she started to object.

  “Don’t mess me about, Tania. I’ve no time for prima donnas. You’ve agreed to come and I’ve fixed everything with your boss, so there’s nothing to stop you. I’m giving you nearly a week to settle your affairs here. If this David is one of them, he’ll have to learn to live without you for a while, so the sooner he starts, the better.” Hard as the mountains now, Claude’s voice told her he was tired of all the fencing about. Cold logic said he had every right to be. She had agreed, and there was no reason why next Friday shouldn’t see her on her way to France. Almost dreamlike, she nodded, still wondering vaguely just how it had all happened, when it was the last thing she had intended.

  * * *

  David drove her to the airport during the late afternoon on Friday. He was quietly confident she would be back well within the six months the preposterous Claude Girard had arranged with Lance. His very complacency only made Tania irritated with him. In David’s eyes, Claude was a figure far removed from the norm. David was Mr Average, hard working, nice and attentive to women and babies, patient to the point of boredom at times …

  Tania had never seen it so clearly before. She hadn’t had the yardstick of Claude Girard to measure David’s shortcomings by. It didn’t endear her to Claude. Instead, it made her resent him even more for spoiling what she considered to be a perfect friendship with David, by showing up all his flaws. She clung to him at the airport, where everyone seemed to be kissing everyone else, and his arms held her close. She wished she could have felt something more than affection toward him, but she couldn’t fall in love to order and David knew it.

  “Write to me when you’ve got time,” he said to her, a little huskily. “And don’t let him become a slave-driver. I’ve met these types before. They play hard and work hard, and expect everyone else to run around in circles after them.”

  “Don’t worry,” Tania laughed. “I can take care of myself. I’ll be back before you know it, David. You’ll hardly have time to miss me!”

  “I’ll miss you,” he assured her, and it was the nearest he came to showing any emotion. Tania’s flight was called, and she walked away from him quickly. Whatever Claude might think of her relationship with David, she knew ruefully that it had always been a luke-warm one. Even David had never suspected that beneath the cool, efficient exterior she showed to the company, beat a deeply passionate heart, not yet fully awoken to her own sensuality. David Lee certainly hadn’t been the one to awaken her.

  The plane touched down after a smooth flight to Bordeaux, and once through Customs and baggage claim, Tania’s eyes sought and found a familiar figure standing at the barrier. Her heart leapt at the sight of Claude. He was the same man she had seen less than a week ago, and yet somehow, here in his own environment, he seemed larger, more forceful, attracting admiring eyes whenever he moved with that tall, lithe grace that distinguished him. He took her baggage from her hands and put it down a moment, then greeted her formally, kissing her lightly on both cheeks in the French fashion. The standard greeting to someone of more than a brief acquaintance, but who didn’t qualify for being swept up into his arms and held dizzily to his heart …

  Tania blinked, wondering if the thought had really surged into her mind. Even more, if the slight pang she felt was disappointment! She decided it was still the aftermath of seeing so many couples embracing at the London airport, and the same thing being enacted here. She didn’t really want Claude Girard’s arms around her, did she?

  “The car’s outside.” Claude walked easily alongside her, the suitcases swinging in his hands, though to Tania they had weighed a ton. “Did you have a good journey? Not too bumpy? It can sometimes be a bit turbulent over the Channel.”

  “It was very smooth, thank you.” They were making small talk, meaningless chatter, and it suddenly occurred to her that Claude was less at ease than he’d been in London. Then, he had been the aggressor, storming into her life and demanding that she come here because it suited his purposes. Now that she was here, she would be living in his home, with his mother and sister, and young Henri … and suddenly the situation was subtly changing. Tania wondered briefly just what his womenfolk had thought of his emotional blackmail in bringing her here. Or if they even knew of his strong-arm tactics!

  She glanced at his profile as he sat beside her in his sleek sports car ten minutes later. It was strong, a determined face that she had seen change to a gentleness she wouldn’t have suspected, when he spoke of his nephew. She shivered for no reason. James had once told her the mountains sorted out the wheat from the chaff, choosing for their own the men fit to scale them. James had been one of them, until the accident.

  Claude was certainly another, if strength of character and powerful physique were trademarks. How long before another accident robbed another woman of her son … her lover …? She was still afraid of shadows … but when the shadows were of the implacable, forbidding mountains, demanding every respect from mere vulnerable humans, then yes. She was afraid of shadows.

  “You’re very quiet.” Claude’s voice made her start. She had turned from him to gaze out at the changing countryside. Vineyards to the south of Bordeaux; a confluence of rivers with lovely old stone bridges; fertile, hot land that gradually gave way to drier, more arid country, and a more mountainous region.

  “I’m trying to decide just what I’m doing here,” she muttered. “It’s the last place I expected to be.”

  He put his hand on her knee for a brief moment, before giving all his attention to the steeply climbing road.

  “You’re here because I want you to be. It’s what James would have wanted, too.”

  Tania shivered again, despite the heat. There was a note of inevitability in his voice, and she had the uneasy feeling that James’s wishes might be secondary to his. It was Claude who wanted her here. James’s feelings were a useful ploy to get her here. Emotional blackmail, she thought again, and it had worked. She didn’t want to dwell on it.

  “I hadn’t expected your home to be so far south,” she said instead.

  He looked mildly surprised. “Didn’t James ever tell you anything about it?”

  “He tried. I didn’t listen.” She didn’t care what Claude made of that. “I loved my brother, but I didn’t love his obsession with the mountains, and the less I knew about it the better.”

  “I told you once before that you make it sound almost immoral.” He sounded amused, and Tania flushed, because she hadn’t meant that at all. Claude knew that very well, she guessed, and he wasn’t going to provoke her. She shrugged.

  “I don’t know this part of France at all. I know Paris and the surrounding area, and once, when James and I were small, we spent a ghastly four days under canvas in the pouring rain on the Brittany coast, while our parents did some research for a marine-life project.” She shuddered, remembering.

  Claude laughed, stopping her nervous flow of words. Tania was annoyed at knowing that she really did feel nervous. New country, new people, and Claude Girard beside her, who was enough to unnerve any woman. Tania was even more annoyed at herself for being so spineless! She met new people all the time in her job. Often she was the only person able to converse with the strangers who came to look over the engineering plants belonging to the company. She was competent and assured in her work, but in Claude Girard’s presence, she was aware of a disturbing lack of self-confidence. She didn’t like the feeling one bit.

  “Any time you feel the need for bright lights, Biarritz is within driving distance of the château,” Claude commented. “My home is fairly isolated, Tania, but I hope you will like it. I want you to feel it is your home too.”


  When they stopped at a café for a drink just outside Toulouse, the blue haze of towering mountains to the south was very evident. Tania’s geography was sketchy, and Claude supplied the information.

  “The Pyrenees,” he informed her. “They form the border between France and Spain. The château is well situated for marvellous views, and also to give me speedy access for any rescue activities.”

  “Do you operate from the château?”

  “Of course. You will see my operations room.” Claude grinned. “It looks something like a military operations room, with the most modern equipment. Any climber in danger on the mountains can get in touch with us or base camp hook-ups, by means of walkie-talkie radios. We don’t just wander over the mountains looking for stray hikers, Tania.”

  “And this is what James was involved in?” She was embarrassed not to have known about it more fully. This stupid block she had had about learning too deeply of the dangers of his life …

  “I can see you need to be educated a little more, chérie,” Claude said lightly. “It will be my pleasure to teach you.”

  The inflexion in his voice told her instinctively that it wasn’t only the detail of his work that he wanted to teach her. Perhaps it was only because of what James had mentioned casually about this man — his interest in women, his need to live life to the full, added to his determination to get her here, and the way in which he had succeeded — whatever the reason, Tania was perfectly sure that Claude would find it amusing to add her to his list of conquests. And she was equally sure that he would not succeed.

  The daylight was beginning to fade a little, though the air was warm and still by the time Claude pulled the car to a halt on a narrow, hilly road. Tania’s heart began to thud a little. There was nothing here … She turned to him suspiciously, but he was getting out of the car and coming round to open her door.

  “Come,” he said softly. “A stranger’s first sight of the Château Girard should be from a high ridge, to see the last of the sunlight glinting down on it.”

  He took her hand in his, and Tania walked beside him as he led her twenty-odd yards farther on, where the road curved to the left.

  And then she saw it. She gasped. Far below, in a deep valley, was the most beautiful and magnificent castle she had ever seen. And this — this was Claude’s home! She felt dumb with shock, as the grey pointed turrets of the typical French château glinted like liquid pewter in the sun, as Claude had said. James had never told her anything about this! Or if he had, she simply hadn’t listened …

  “We have a family legend, Tania. A stranger’s first sight of the château must also be accompanied by a kiss, to ensure a true welcome and good fortune.”

  He had pulled her into his arms before she could make any trite remark. Before she could protest, she was moulded to his athletic body, her back arching towards him by the pressure of his hands, and her own capitulation. For it was all part of a dream … this beautiful French château, and Claude, the undoubted king of all he surveyed … She had mumbled something about him being medieval, she could believe it even more now. There was something primitive about the way he was claiming her kiss as his right. It was more than a welcome to a stranger. There was passion and need and a deep sensuality in the way his mouth was possessing hers now, and Tania was as powerless to resist as a leaf in the wind.

  Her arms had been rigidly at her sides while she drank in the beauty of the panorama below them. Now, as if they moved of their own accord, they reached upwards to encircle Claude’s broad back. She could feel the strength of his muscles beneath her fingers. Everywhere their bodies touched, she was aware of power and strength, and of taut masculinity. She was hardly aware that her fingers dug into his back as a flame of desire more potent than anything she had ever known before seemed to sear her body.

  As effective as a total act of love, Claude’s charisma seemed to envelop her, telling her of his needs more clearly than mere words. His mouth had demanded all that he wanted of her, gently prising her own apart, until she felt the probing of his tongue against hers, erotic and arousing. With a shock of awareness, Tania knew the most pleasurable sensations she had ever experienced as his blatant assault on her went on, and on … her breasts were crushed against him, as if straining to be part of him, wanting him, wanting more …

  Finally, Claude’s mouth tugged softly at her full bottom lip, as if he would have his last sweet fill of her. He still held her in the circle of his arms, his mouth touching hers, as he murmured soft words to her.

  “Welcome stranger. I think the good fortune must be mine, to have found you. The Girards have long been known for a fiercely possessive clan, Tania. Girard men never relinquish their women, once they find the one that is their destiny.”

  The sudden cry of a high-wheeling bird and a fluttering of wings in the foliage of tall trees broke the supercharged moment, to Tania’s wild relief. For what seemed like hours, she felt as if she had been held in some kind of spell, bewitched by Claude Girard’s dark eyes and compelling presence. And she was half-frightened by the way her senses had reached out to meet him halfway, as if he was her soul-mate, her destiny …

  His intensity, and the vibrant words he had spoken, were in such odd contrast with the playboy image she had always had of him, that she was totally confused by her feelings. Then, too, so was the caring way he had spoken of young Henri, and the obvious dedication she sensed in his mountain rescue work. She couldn’t have got him all wrong all this time, could she? She didn’t want to think so. She wanted to keep her feelings on an even keel regarding him, and not to have this heady, swirling delight running through her because Claude Girard had kissed her, and somehow touched her soul in doing so.

  “Hadn’t we better be moving on?” Her voice was slightly cracked, and she didn’t look into his eyes. She didn’t want him to read there what she wouldn’t yet admit to herself. “Won’t your mother be expecting us?”

  Claude gave a low laugh, as if he knew exactly what she was thinking. “All right, my little English pigeon. Soon, you’ll discover you have wings to fly, like the birds in the trees, and then you and I will soar to the heights together.”

  She almost fled back to the car, her face burning at his words, his meaning crystal clear. What on earth was the matter with her? Tania asked herself furiously. She was reacting like a schoolgirl instead of a warm, passionate, mature woman, just because Claude had made it obvious that he desired her. It was the most natural thing in the world for a man to feel desire for a woman. It was the very essence of life. Every woman needed to feel desired and loved … Tania blinked her eyes angrily. She didn’t seek love from Claude Girard. It wasn’t love that he offered. The thought was suddenly a piquant one.

  “Oh, by the way,” Claude said casually, as he steered the car around the narrow bends on the descent to the château. “I wouldn’t comment on the family legend to anyone, if I were you, Tania. It’s rather a private one —”

  “You made it up!” she blazed at him, all the ethereal feelings gone in a moment. “And by a private one, I suppose you mean it’s the one the lordly Claude Girard uses whenever he brings a pretty woman to his home! I might have guessed it!”

  “Why? Did you have quite such a preconceived bad opinion of me?” he said tightly, annoyed at her violent reaction.

  “The worst,” she snapped. “And it’s quite obvious now that it was the right one.”

  “It’s just as obvious that I was all wrong about you,” Claude retorted. “I couldn’t really believe that anyone as lovely as you could be such a shrew! Do all your men-friends get treated to this display every time they kiss you? Or is it the sort of thing an Englishman expects? Your brother was obviously the exception to the rule. He was refreshingly normal!”

  She clamped her lips shut, refusing to be baited by his insults, or the reference to James. He wasn’t getting around her that way. He was despicable, just as she had always guessed he would be. The sooner she could get to work on the book that he needed
her for and back to England, the better. She needed the calm stability of David’s easy companionship. She didn’t need the volatile, explosive passion of Claude Girard!

  He said no more as they drove the last part of the journey to his home, but as he jerked the car to a stop, he turned to her, his voice expressionless.

  “If we can at least manage to be civil to each other, it will be more comfortable for us all, Tania,” he said.

  “As long as we remember this is a business arrangement, I see no problem,” she said distantly.

  He muttered an expletive in French beneath his breath, and Tania smiled faintly, understanding perfectly. What was it he really wanted of her? she thought in bewilderment. He hadn’t really brought her all this way on some mad seductive whim, had he? It was hardly likely. Why her, when he could have the pick of France’s high-society women if he chose? It was beginning to dawn on her just how wealthy the Girard family must be. And as the only son, Claude would be a catch for any woman. Why bother with a reluctant Englishwoman he referred to as a shrew! Tania smarted, recalling the word. It was completely unjustified, but let him think it. What did she care?

  A manservant Claude addressed as Alphonse appeared from the château to take the baggage. It was another world. Inside the château it was cool and seemingly vast. Marble floors and costly paintings added to the unreality of the place for Tania. It was more like a museum … And then the silver-haired lady she had seen in Claude’s snapshots came out to greet them, and at once the ambience of the place changed. There was real warmth and affection in Madame Girard’s face as she kissed her son and then turned to Tania, hands outstretched. There was a hint of a tear in her dark eyes, so like Claude’s.

  “My dear Tania, at last we make our acquaintance,” she spoke in English as good as Claude’s. “Our dear James spoke of you so often, I feel as if I know you already. You are so exactly as he painted you, though even prettier. Such beautiful hair, and that enviable English complexion! Come and meet Monique. She, too, is longing to see if you live up to James’s ideal!”