by Donna Alward
That he even offered filled her heart with joy and relief. “Oh, William, that means so much to me. If I can be home when he has his operation...” She took his hand in hers. “When can I tell Mama?”
His eyes clouded a bit. “Not yet. I don’t want to set something in stone until the rest of the week plays out. Can you trust me? And not because you don’t have a choice, but because you know I’ll do my best?”
She wanted to trust him, and that scared her to bits. Look at what had happened the last time she trusted someone. Maybe the problem wasn’t with trusting others, maybe it was trusting herself. Because twice now she’d landed in “relationships” that were nothing but lies.
“You haven’t given me a reason not to. Yet.”
“I’ll endeavor to keep your good opinion of me,” he said formally, and it made her smile again.
“Come on, then. I think this is ready, and you can eat a very Umbrian dish tonight instead of Madame Gosselin’s heavy sauces.”
“Music to my ears,” he said, and went to find bowls and plates.
* * *
Will looked across the table at Gabi and knew he was asking for trouble.
The candlelight lit her face, and when she laughed it was like music. The meal she’d prepared had been fairly simple but amazingly delicious. For dessert, he’d headed to the basement for an appropriate wine. Not a dessert wine, but a red that would complement the cherries and also be drinkable throughout the evening.
Right now Gabi was pushing her remaining cherries around her bowl with a spoon. “Full?” he asked, dipping his own spoon for one more scrumptious bite.
“Very. Madame Gosselin really knows how to bake bread.”
“Once, when we were kids, Charlotte and I snuck into the kitchen at night and toasted a whole loaf. We spread it with Nutella and nearly made ourselves sick. The next morning there were chocolate fingerprints on everything.”
She laughed, a light, lovely sound. How had Stephen thought he could marry her and not fall in love with her? What was wrong with him?
“Your mother had her hands full with twins.”
“Yes. And you know, despite being ‘the’ Aurora of Aurora, Inc., she spent a lot of time parenting us. Both our parents did. We had a nanny, but we were never made to be out of the way. We were...are...a family.”
“I like your mother. She frightens me, but she’s lovely just the same. She has this aura about her that is so strong and capable.”
“She is,” William agreed. “But she has her weaknesses, too. No,” he corrected, “not weaknesses. Love is not a weakness. She has a wonderful soft side. I think that’s why Stephen felt so pressured to marry. After he broke with Bridget, Maman was devastated. She’d put a lot of hope into that relationship. It’s horrible seeing your very strong and capable mother reduced by grief. It was like she’d lost her husband and then the family hope for the future, too.”
There. He’d brought Stephen back into the conversation. That should help steer his thoughts away from where they shouldn’t be. On Gabi and her smooth skin and gorgeous hair and musical laugh.
Gabi reached for her wine, sat back, took a drink and licked her lips. And Stephen was quickly forgotten.
“I should go do the dishes,” Gabi said, a little reluctantly. “Confession. I love to cook. Hate cleaning up.”
“I’ll help. It’s the least I can do since you fed me.”
They stacked their dishes and made their way to the kitchen again, but when they arrived it was sparkling clean and one of the maids was putting away the copper pots.
“Oh! We were just coming to tidy!”
The maid smiled and replied in French. William said a quick merci and bonne nuit and then put down their dishes and guided Gabi out of the kitchen. “What did she say?” she asked.
“She said it was no trouble and that if we left the dishes she’d put them in the dishwasher.”
“Oh. I’m not used to that.”
“Now you’re free to enjoy the evening.” Which he guessed would be without him, and he knew it should be even as he hoped it would not.
She sighed. “I’ll confess, I’ve had my fill of peace and quiet. I wish I could go and do something.” She turned her gaze up to his. “But I understand why I cannot. I don’t mean to complain. I know I brought this on myself.”
Will thought for a few minutes. So far, their PR strategy had worked perfectly. They’d leaked a few lines about Gabi being ill, recuperating at Chatsworth, and despite gossip to the contrary, they’d set a bogus new tentative date for the wedding. It looked as if there was no trouble in paradise as far as communications from Aurora went. Soon there would be another story with different celebs, and this delicious little tidbit would be mostly forgotten. Taking her back to Chatsworth wasn’t possible; she wasn’t exactly welcome there and he understood why. But if he took her home to Italy next week, he could probably leave her there, safe with her family. And temptation would be firmly out of his way.
Which did nothing about her boredom this evening.
“We could take a walk in the lemon grove,” he suggested, suddenly inspired. “I know I’ve insisted you stay in the garden, but I don’t think anyone suspects you’re here. It’s a gorgeous night. I know it’s not a night on the town, but it’s better than nothing.”
“I’d like that.”
The day’s heat held in the air as they left the château through the garden. The sun was retreating but the moon wasn’t out yet, and the sky was a soft blend of blues and pale pinks announcing the beginning of sunset. A smear of cloud carried the colors across the horizon, and William took a deep breath. There was something so different in the air here, as distinctive as terroir to a grape. It was the combination of earthiness, the proximity to the Mediterranean, the vegetation and, for lack of a better word, the utter Frenchness of it all. Tonight there was nowhere else he’d rather be than walking through the stone gate from the olive-bordered gardens to the orchard beyond, where the leafy trees provided a shadowy canopy as they ambled along.
“Better?” he asked, breaking the silence.
“Much. What trees are in here?”
“Oh, lemons, and some oranges, and over in that corner are some nectarines.”
“Was it ever farmed?”
“Maybe? I don’t know for sure. My parents bought this place when I was very little. It hasn’t been in the family that long, you know?” He shrugged. “We have a gardener. He cares for the groves now and picks the fruit.”
“And the lavender?” She stopped and pointed over the hill to the sloping purple fields below. “Do you own those fields as well?”
“No. But we source it for our fragrances. However, that is not my department. I’m trying to learn more about fabrics and fashion these days.”
“Like cashmere.”
“Exactly.”
“In that case, let me help.” She grinned up at him. “You can’t find better than Baresi.”
He paused for a moment, wondering if now was the right time to broach the topic. Gabi could have thrown a tantrum about this week. She could have made things difficult. Instead she’d done everything he’d asked in order to minimize the damage to his family, even knowing that the chance of saving hers was gone.
Except it wasn’t.
The twilight deepened and he reached for her hand. “Come with me for a moment. I want to talk to you about something.”
There was an old bench down the path, almost forgotten among the grass and shrubs. But William knew it was there. He knew because when he was fourteen he’d spied on his sister one day when she’d gone walking with a boy and they’d sat on the bench to kiss. Charlotte had given him half her pocket money for the holiday to keep him from telling their father.
Now he sat on it with his brother’s ex-fiancée. He wondered what price Charlotte would demand if she knew, and he laughed
a little.
“What’s so funny?” Gabi sat beside him and tilted her head a little.
“I was remembering something from my childhood. It involved my sister, a local boy and extortion.”
“Oh, my.” A warm smile bloomed on her face. “I love stories like that. Those are the kinds of shared family memories that last, aren’t they? I hope you weren’t too demanding.”
“Half of her allowance for the six weeks we were here. I spent it unwisely and it was the most fun I’ve ever had.”
“Poor Charlotte. She’s too sweet for that.”
“Don’t let her fool you.”
They sat for a moment and then, when the silence drew out, Gabi said, “What did you want to talk to me about?”
He turned on the bench so he was facing her. “This business agreement with Baresi... I know Stephen set it up as a mutually beneficial arrangement. But the thing is... I think it’s mutually beneficial, even without the marriage. I’ve looked at our history with Baresi. I’ve looked at the quality. There’s no reason we can’t enter into some sort of agreement that benefits us both.” He held her gaze. “Without you having to marry someone you don’t love.”
Her cheeks pinkened. “But...” The word trailed away. He could see the question in her face, though, and he didn’t have a good answer.
“I don’t know why Stephen wouldn’t have just made the deal. Maybe it was pressure from our mother—she can be very persuasive. Or his way of dealing with his own broken heart—to give it to someone where it would be safe from harm.” He met her gaze steadily. “If you’re not in love, you’re safe from having your heart broken.”
“That seems a bit poetic for Stephen.”
“Maybe. I can’t speak to my brother’s motives, but truthfully...in my opinion this would be a sound deal, period. There’s no reason why we can’t partner with you. It gives us a steady supply of top-quality material, and to be honest, it would elevate Baresi’s status in the industry.”
She stared at him. “I didn’t have to marry him.”
“No. And he shouldn’t have asked it of you. I love my brother, Gabi. I’ll do what I can to protect him, always. But that doesn’t mean I agree with all his actions, and in this he was wrong.”
There was one sticking point, and he felt duty-bound to bring it up. “It’s not a sure thing yet. I’m head of the division, but Stephen is head of acquisitions. He’ll have to approve it.”
He watched carefully as her face fell. She tried to hide her disappointment, but it was impossible. “And he hates me right now.”
“Hate is a strong word. Besides, I’m positive that he’s going to come to the conclusion that you saved him from a very big mistake. Let me handle Stephen. You worry about your family.”
Her eyes widened as she reached out and touched his hand. “Why are you doing this for me? Why aren’t you as mad as Stephen?”
She was so beautiful in the fading light. Her eyes were soft velvet, her skin luminous. He couldn’t remember another woman capturing his attention this way, which complicated everything. He had to keep this just business, and when she looked into his eyes like she was right now, it was impossible to think in terms of dollars and cents. Yes, getting her back to Italy and leaving her there was a very good idea. Out of sight, out of mind.
“I wasn’t the groom, Gabi. My pride wasn’t crushed. I was called in to do damage control.”
“I know. It just baffles me.” She looked away. “You should be angry. I deserve for you to be angry.”
“No, not angry. Look at it this way. If I had the chance to make things right and maybe save my father, I’d do it. I can’t save him now. My father is gone. But yours isn’t. Why wouldn’t I want to help?”
Her eyes misted over as she looked back at him and squeezed his hand. “You’re a good man, William Pemberton. Better than I realized.”
“We barely knew each other before Saturday night,” he observed, keeping his voice light, but the compliment struck him right in the heart. If he was a good man it was because of his brother’s support and his father’s patience. He tried to remember that every day and let it guide his actions. His days of making messes were over. Now he tried to clean them up. Be someone his family could depend on. That person he was before could never be resurrected. He looked at Gabi, so forbidden to him, so beautiful. She could make him forget for a few moments, and that was dangerous.
“We should probably get back,” she said quietly after a few minutes of silence. The air was soft and the world around them seemed colored in muted pinks and periwinkle as the sun slid closer to the horizon. It was the time of day for whispered secrets and hidden smiles, forbidden touches and soft sighs. That in between time when possibilities were waiting to be plucked like fruit from the tree, and romance bloomed around every corner.
Their gazes held, and for the space of a held breath, they drifted close together. His heart pounded as his gaze dropped to her ripe lips. And then William broke the spell and stood abruptly.
“You’re right. We should get back. I want to start drafting a proposal and also work on travel arrangements.”
Gabi’s face shifted back to impersonal and friendly, thank goodness. He wasn’t sure he had the strength to resist her if she’d pushed their...intimacy. Was that what it was? This feeling that kept coming over him? She felt it, too, didn’t she? All the more reason to keep his distance now and get her back to Italy as soon as feasible.
“Of course,” she answered, also rising. She started back along the rows of the lemon trees, toward the château towering in the distance.
Maybe it had been a mistake bringing her here. William had only been thinking of privacy and seclusion. He hadn’t thought of the unintended consequences of being here together, yet alone.
They could be friendly. And friends. But anything more was impossible. He could never betray Stephen that way. Even if his brother wasn’t in love with Gabi, it would be wrong, wouldn’t it? Besides, if a runaway bride was a PR nightmare for Aurora, imagine what would follow if William suddenly showed up with her on his arm?
“You go on ahead. I’m going to...check on something.” He knew he sounded lame, but walking through the gardens and into the château together meant separating there and he wanted to kiss her so badly he could nearly taste her lips just from the mere thought.
“Thank you for the walk. And letting me get out a bit more.”
“Thank you for dinner,” he replied, and then made a turn on the path and headed in a different direction.
It was the best way. It was the only way.
CHAPTER FIVE
THE WALK IN the garden had been a mistake.
For the first time since her arrival, William had given her access to a laptop. “You need to see what’s happened,” he’d said, his voice brittle. He hadn’t shown her any tabloid links since that first day. Now, though, he’d given her full access. “I trust you won’t make this worse by responding to anything.” There’d been barely concealed anger in his tone. “This wasn’t your fault. It was mine. I should have anticipated this would happen.”
But she stared at the picture and knew she wasn’t blameless. How could she be? A photog’s massive lens had done its job. Their identities were clear as they sat on the stone bench. And so was the fact that her hand was on his and they were gazing at each other dreamily. She could pass it off and say it was nothing more than gratitude, but she’d be wrong. She liked William, a lot. And that walk had been ridiculously romantic.
She muttered a stream of words in Italian that she hoped William couldn’t translate. He was on the other side of the room, talking on his cell, but his eyes never left her. Flat. Assessing. Because now she’d become another problem that needed solving.
For the first time since arriving, she got angry. Angry at Stephen for suggesting their crazy arrangement. Angry that he could have helped her without c
oercing her to marry him. And really, truly angry at herself for going along with it, and not being stronger in the face of her own personal crises. That was really why they were in this mess. It was up to her to get them out of this conundrum. She was done being a pawn in anyone’s agenda. And she was done reacting out of fear and distress.
And yet her heart seized as she thought of Baresi Textiles. If she made a misstep, it could all go wrong and she could add to her father’s burdens rather than solve them. But she had cards to play, didn’t she? And she could use them. For a week she’d been docile and nice and sweet and full of self-blame. Where had the self-assured, proactive woman she’d worked so hard to become gone? She didn’t like that when things went sideways, she’d made weak decisions. Well, no more. She was going to go home and she was going to handle the business until her father was well enough to come back.
She closed the browser, making the photo and the accompanying headline disappear. The fact that the article asked if the wedding had been called off because she was “cavorting” with the groom’s brother was too much.
It was time to go back to Perugia.
She rose from her chair and stood tall, then crossed the library to where William stood. “When you’re done your call, I want to speak with you.”
Then she turned and walked away. She was tired of doing everything on Pemberton terms. William had been kind, there was no doubt about that. And there were far worse things than spending a week in a château in Provence. But it hadn’t actually solved anything. Her guilt over leaving Stephen at the altar had prompted her to go along with the plan. That guilt was diminishing by the day.
The important thing was to get through this so that Baresi ended up in a strong position. That was the only consideration now.
She went to her room, that lovely, airy, restful room, and got her suitcase out of the wardrobe. Then she started packing it, piece by piece, folding each item carefully, the exact opposite of what she’d done on her arrival. She looked at the garment bag holding the wedding dress and closed the door of the wardrobe. She would leave it behind. There was no use for it now, and it was nothing more than dead weight to carry around.
