Читать книгу Love Story Next Door!: Cinderella on His Doorstep / Mr Right, Next Door! / Soldier on Her Doorstep - Rebecca Winters, Barbara Wallace - Страница 10

ALEX was up in one of the tallest trees, cutting away dead branches, when he saw both cars leave the estate. Jan Lofgren couldn’t have been on the premises more than ten minutes. That was quick, but Alex guessed he wasn’t surprised. In less time, Dana had made the decision to rent the estate on behalf of the company.

His opinion of her father had been correct before meeting him. He personified conceit. Dana miraculously had none.

Two hours later, Alex was coming back from the landfill after another haul when his cell phone rang. Paul Soleri was calling to make sure he and the crew could get in. They were on their way to the estate.

The timing couldn’t be better. Once Alex could welcome them and answer any questions, he’d resume his work. The knowledge that Dana would be coming back to sleep after dark never left his mind.

Before long a car and two minivans pulled up in the front courtyard. Alex stepped out of the château to meet Paul and the dozen light and camera technicians assembled. They all appeared delighted by what they saw. Their enthusiasm escalated as they entered the château.

After Alex introduced himself and pointed out the location of the bathroom facilities, he told them to look around and explore all they wanted. Except for the petit salon on the main floor and the west turret round on the first floor, everything else was available to them.

If they wanted to do any filming in the building housing the winepress or down in the wine cellar beneath the château, they were welcome. Already he could tell they were getting ideas as they left the foyer and darted from room to room checking things out.

Paul, who was probably in his midforties, took him aside. “Has Jan been here yet?”

“Yes. A few hours ago. He didn’t stay long, then he left with his daughter.”

The dark blond man pursed his lips. “I’m surprised I haven’t heard from him yet.”

“Perhaps he was tired from the long flight.”

“That’s not like him,” he mused. “I assumed he’d be here.”

“I have to admit I thought it strange he left in such a hurry,” Alex commented.

“It doesn’t matter.” A pleasant smile broke out on his face. “We’ll go ahead without him.”

“Make yourself at home, Paul. As I told you over the phone, all the furniture is stored on the third floor. Nothing’s locked. Use whatever you need.”

He let out a long whistle. “When David gets here, he’ll be floored.”

“David?”

“The scriptwriter for this film. He’ll be arriving any minute with the set designer and staff from costumes and makeup. They’re all going to swoon.”

“And that’s good?”

“You have no idea. Since Jan wanted something unique for this segment of the film, we’ve been worried it didn’t exist. Only Dana could pull this off. She’s always had an instinct for picking the right places for him, but this time she outdid herself.

“Don’t quote me, but she’ll end up being a more brilliant director than her father.”

That piece of information came totally unexpected. “Is directing one of her aspirations?”

“Yes, but the last person to know it is Jan, and that’s another good thing.”

Alex remembered her answer when he’d asked what she did in her spare time. Nothing of report. I read and play around with cooking. Otherwise my father forgets to eat.

“If you’ll excuse me, Paul, I have to get back to my work outside. Phone if you need me.”

“Will do.”

Inexplicably disturbed by what he’d learned, he strode down the hallway leading to the side entrance of the château. Dana had been emphatic about not wanting to be an actress. Now it seemed Paul had supplied him with a viable reason.

Inherited talent happened on occasion, but he had the distinct feeling it would take uncommon courage for her to step out from Jan Lofgren’s legendary shadow. When she did break out, she’d be caught up in her own career. The thought caused Alex to grind his teeth.

Dana found a parking space outside the Hermitage and followed her dad inside to his room. On the short drive from the château she’d prepared herself to hear that he wasn’t pleased with her find.

She knew the place was perfect for the script, so it had to be something else he objected to. For the life of her she didn’t know what it was. That meant his mood had already turned wretched and the whole company would pay for it. If she knew Paul, he’d already assembled the crew over there to get to work.

It would be bad enough if they had to pack up again and leave for the Paris location, but there was Alex to think about. The contract Sol had sent him was standard. There was a clause that said Alex would only receive a percentage of the money if for any reason they chose not to film there after all. That wasn’t nearly enough compensation for him.

By the time she entered the hotel room, she was ready to fight her father. If he was going to pull out of this deal due to one of his mystical whims, then she would insist Alex be paid all the money agreed upon in good faith.

As usual his room was a mess, but for once she didn’t start automatically straightening things. Instead she shut the door and propped her back against it. While she waited for him to speak first, she folded her arms.

He stood next to the dresser, eyeing her while he lit up a cigarette, almost as if he were daring her to protest. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen him smoke. Her mother had begged him to stop. As a concession to her, he’d cut down a lot. Dana had hoped he would find the strength to quit altogether. Unfortunately Saskia smoked, too. Dana guessed it was asking too much.

“Tell me about Monsieur Martan.” He pronounced Alex’s last name the French way.

A red flag went up.

Months ago her father had started out another conversation in the same manner, only the subject in question had been Neal Robeson.

So…This was about Alex—not about the suitability of the château. Relief flooded her body.

No doubt when Alex had told her father to go ahead and explore on his own because of something Dana had confided, he hadn’t liked it. She knew her dad enjoyed being a mystery to other people, so it had made him uncomfortable to be more transparent to Alex because of her. That irritation would pass, particularly since Alex wouldn’t be around while her father worked.

“Martin is his Australian name,” she corrected him.

With one long exhale, the room filled with smoke. “He must want to get into acting very badly to give me free rein to his entire estate.”

She moved away from the door. “Have you forgotten I went to him, not the other way around? He wants money very badly to restore the château and make it a viable asset before he resumes his career as an agricultural engineer.”

Her father gave her one of those condescending nods. “So that’s what he’s told you.”

Dana refused to let him get to her. “In this case you’re not dealing with another Neal type.”

“No,” he muttered, “Monsieur Martan is older and has far more worldly experience. Inside that supposedly deserted château with no electricity beyond the main floor, your bedchamber has been laid out so exquisitely, it even took my breath.”

She scoffed. “Careful, Dad. You’re beginning to make this sound like Beauty and the Beast. When I told him I was planning to stay there at night in my new sleeping bag, he insisted I have a decent bedroom.”

He stubbed out his cigarette. “I forbid it, Dana.”

Forbid? “I think you’ve forgotten I passed eighteen a long time ago.” As she turned to leave, she heard knocking on the door.

“Jan? It’s Saskia. Let me in, lieveling.”

The timing was perfect, but her father looked ready to throw something.

“I’ll get it,” Dana volunteered before opening it.

“Hi, Saskia. Did you have a good flight?”

“So-so.” The brunette actress kissed her on both cheeks, a pretense at civility.

Dana went along with to keep the peace.

“I was just leaving. See you later, Dad.”

Without hesitation she rushed out of the hotel. It didn’t take her long to reach the château.

By the time she’d pulled up next to the cars and minivans parked in front, Dana realized there’d be no peace for her if her father was angry enough to renege on the contract. Alex didn’t deserve it, not to mention everyone else who would be put out. It looked like it was up to her if she didn’t want this boat to sink.

When she found Alex and told him she wouldn’t be staying at the château after all, he would assume it was what he’d thought from the first—that she still answered to her father in everything. But as humiliating as that would be, it wouldn’t matter if it meant Alex received all his money.

“Dana?”

She got out of the car in time to see David hurrying toward her from the woods. He was her father’s age, a wonderful family man with a great gift for writing.

When he caught up to her, he hugged her hard. “Bless you, Dana. Bless you, bless you for this. Words can’t describe.”

“I know.” She’d felt the same way after seeing the château for the first time. It was how she felt now, only more so. He finally let her go, still beaming.

David’s reaction settled it. This film was of vital importance to him, too; therefore she had no choice but to pack up her things and drive to the Hermitage. She checked her watch. It was ten to six. Pretty soon everyone would leave for the night. That’s when she’d go inside to get her things so she wouldn’t draw attention to herself.

Until then she would walk around the back of the château to find Alex. After what he’d done for her, she owed him an explanation of why she wouldn’t be staying here after all. He would never know that because of him, she’d experienced the most exciting day and night of her entire life. A man like him was too good for her, but at least this was a memory she’d hug to herself forever.

After telling David she’d see him later, she followed the path next to the hedge at the side of the château. It led around to the back where she hadn’t been before. To her surprise the ground, covered by a mass of tangled vegetation divided by a path, sloped gently toward the river.

She wandered down it a few feet, marveling at the sight. Alex had meticulously cleaned out one half of it to reveal individual fruit trees. Who would have guessed what had been hidden there? In its day, the grounds would have been a showplace.

The other part still needed to be tackled, but he was making inroads. She saw his truck piled with cleared-out vegetation. Nearby were various tools including a power saw.

“Bonsoir, ma belle.”

Her heart raced. “Alex?” She’d heard his deep, seductive voice, but couldn’t see him anywhere.

“I’m in a tree!” He tossed something small and green at her feet.

She reached for it, then looked up. A long, tall ladder had been propped against the trunk. Hidden by masses of leaves, she only saw parts of his hard-muscled physique. He brushed a few aside, allowing her a glimpse of his disarming white smile. Dana could hardly breathe.

“Are these all apple trees?”

“Blanc d’Hiver apples,” he asserted. “The kind that make the best tartes aux pommes. By late October I might be able to harvest a few. The trees behind you yield Anjou pears.”

Dana shook her head. “No wonder this place is called Belles Fleurs. When their blossoms come out, the sight from the château windows will be glorious.

“That all depends if I live long enough to make it out of this primeval forest to prune another day.”

She chuckled. “How old are you?” She’d been dying to know.

“Thirty-three.”

“You’ve got years yet!”

“Years of what?”

“I’m sure I don’t know.” Dana didn’t want to think about his life when he moved on to other places. Other women…It would take a very special woman to capture his heart. “Tell me something—”

“That covers a lot of territory.”

Laughter escaped her lips. “Can you see the vineyard from that altitude?”

“So you noticed the building housing the winepress.”

“Yes, but I also heard that the vineyard once produced the famed Domaine Belles Fleurs label.”

She heard the leaves rustle. In seconds he’d negotiated the ladder with swift male agility before jumping to the ground, carrying his hand saw. “Someone’s been gossiping.” He gathered the branches he’d just cut and threw them in the truck bed. “Wait, let me guess—Madame Fournier at the Hermitage.”

Nothing got past him. “Who else?” She smiled, but he didn’t reciprocate.

“Since my arrival, word has leaked out that a long-lost Fleury is back in Les Coteaux du Layon. It sounds like she was talking out of school again.”

Dana had irritated him again; the last thing she’d wanted to do. “Only because I wanted to buy a bottle of the dessert wine we drank the other evening. She told me it came from the Domaine Percher, but she added that the very best Anjou wine used to come from the Domaine Belles Fleurs.”

Alex rubbed his thumb along his lower lip. “There hasn’t been a bottle produced since 1930.”

“That’s what she said. Naturally I was curious.”

“Naturally,” he came back, but to her relief he sounded more playful than upset.

“When I flew back to California, I did a little research on the Internet.”

His eyes narrowed on her features. “What did you find out?”

“For one thing, Dutch merchants used to favor the Belles Fleurs brand.”

He expelled a breath. “I might as well hear the rest. Knowing Dana Lofgren, you didn’t stop there.”

Embarrassed to be rattling on, a wave of heat washed over her. “There isn’t any more, though I will say this—I’m no connoisseur, but if the Belles Fleurs wine was as good as the kind we had at the Hermitage, then it’s the world’s loss.”

She noticed him shift his weight. “My parents never breathed a word to me about a vineyard.”

“You’re kidding!”

“My father was so intent on protecting my mother from any more pain, we simply didn’t talk about her past. When the letter from the attorney for my grandfather’s estate showed up, there was no mention of a vineyard. In fact, he led me to believe the place was virtually unsalvageable.”

“Sounds like he was hoping you would forfeit so he could buy it for a song.”

He nodded. “I got the distinct impression he was hiding something, but didn’t understand until I saw the winepress building and eventually discovered the vineyard. No doubt he’d been bombarded by vintners throughout the Anjou region who wanted to buy it and work it, even if they couldn’t afford to purchase the château.”

“So he thought he’d buy it first,” she theorized, “recognizing the money it could bring in.”

“Exactly.”

“Is it supposed to be a secret then?”

He put his hands on his hips, unconsciously emanating a potent virility that made her tremble. “Not at all.”

“But you wish I’d mind my own business.”

“You misunderstand me, Dana. There’s something you don’t know. Come with me while I make this last haul and I’ll explain.”

His invitation made it possible for her to be with him a little longer. She couldn’t ask for more than that, but he paused before his next comment ruined the moment. “Unless of course your assistance is required elsewhere.” His brow had furrowed. “Naturally your father has first call on your time.”

Between Alex and her dad, she felt like a football being tossed back and forth. Both of them treated her like she was a child who couldn’t act for herself. She’d thought she and Alex had been communicating like two adults just now, but she’d thought wrong!

Bristling with the heat of anger she muttered, “If that were the case, I wouldn’t have come out here, would I?”

Turning on her heel, she started to retrace her steps, but Alex moved faster. In the next breath his hands had closed around her upper arms, pulling her back against his chest. “Why did you come?” he asked in a silky voice.

With his warm breath against her neck, too many sensations bombarded her at once. The solid pounding of his heart changed the momentum of hers. Aware of his fingers making ever-increasing rotations against her skin through her top, she felt a weakness attack her body. Pleasure pains ran down her arms to her hands.

“I—I wanted to thank you.” She could hardly get the words out.

“For what?” he demanded, turning her around, causing her head to loll back. His dark gaze pierced hers. “That sounded like you’re leaving on a trip. Mind telling me where you’re going?”

“The landfill? It may be a French one, but I can still think of more romantic places.”

“Dana.” His voice grated.

Of course he already knew the answer to his own question, but his male mouth was too close. Her ache for him had turned into painful desire. She needed to do something quick before she forgot what they were talking about.

“I should have taken your advice before you went to so much trouble for me.” She tried to ease away from him, but he didn’t relinquish his hold. “My only consolation is that it’s one room less you’ll have to clean and furnish once you get started on the inside of the château.”

Those black eyes roved over her features with increasing intensity. “You knew your father wasn’t going to approve. What’s changed?”

Dana moistened her lips nervously. “Remember the old saying about picking your battles?” She noticed a small nerve throbbing at the corner of his mouth. In other circumstances she’d love to press her lips to it. “This one isn’t important.”

She kept trying for a little levity, hoping it would help. It didn’t. Her comment had the opposite effect of producing a smile. Some kind of struggle was going on inside him before his hands dropped away with seeming reluctance.

This was the moment to make her exit. “See you around, Alex.”

Needing to put distance between them, she went back to the château to pack. It had emptied except for Paul and David. While they were talking in the grand salon, she hurried out to the car with her suitcase and headed for the hotel.

The same woman she’d talked to before smiled at her. “Bonsoir, Mademoiselle Lofgren.”

“Bonsoir, madame. I need the key to room eleven, please.”

Her arched brow lifted. “Eleven? But it is already occupied.”

“I know. My father and I have adjoining rooms.”

“Non, non. A Mademoiselle Brusse checked in a little while ago. I’ve already given her the key.”

Something strange was going on.

“I see. Thank you for your help, madame.”

“Of course.”

Dana grabbed her suitcase and opted for the stairs rather than the lift. Once she reached the next floor, she walked midway down the hall and knocked on her father’s door several times, but he didn’t answer. No doubt he was with Saskia, but this couldn’t wait. She pulled out her cell phone and called him.

“Dana?” He’d picked up on the second ring.

“Hi, Dad. What’s going on? I tried to check in my room, but the desk said Saskia had picked up the key.”

He answered her question with another one. “Where are you?”

“Standing in front of your hotel room door.”

“I’ll be right out.” The line went dead.

Within seconds he joined her in the hall and shut the door behind him. His famous scowl was more pronounced than earlier in the day. “Saskia and I have been having problems, but I can’t afford to end things with her until after the picture’s finished. She doesn’t know my intentions of course.”

Dana was glad her father was coming to his senses for his own sake.

“She begged me to let her stay in the adjoining room while we work out our differences.”

Poor Saskia. “That sounds reasonable.”

His eyes darted to her suitcase. “Saskia’s room is free at the hotel in Angers. I called and told the concierge to have it waiting for you.”

“Thank you,” she muttered, “but I’ll make my own arrangements.”

There was a long silence before he said, “If you go back to the château, you do so at your own peril.”

Their gazes clashed. “And Monsieur Martin’s, too?”

His eyes flashed with temper. “How did that man get his tentacles into you so fast?” he countered.

Dana stood her ground. “Why won’t you answer the question, Dad?”

It took him forever to respond.

“I still forbid you, but as you reminded me earlier with all the carelessness of your culture, you’re not seventeen anymore.”

He went back in the bedroom. As she turned away, she heard the door close. Despite his hurtful remark, she was confident he wouldn’t penalize Alex. Not because he’d had a sudden attack of human decency, but because he knew he’d never find a spot this perfect for his film.

Her throat felt tight all the way back to the château where she discovered the gate had been closed. A symbolic dagger for the trespasser to beware?

She closed her eyes, afraid she was being as superstitious as her father. After a minute, she reached for her purse and pulled out the remote. Once she’d driven on through, she shut it again, then continued on to the courtyard.

After getting out of the car, she tried to open the front door, but it was locked and Alex’s truck was nowhere in sight. He might still be around the back, working. Acting on that possibility, she drove to the other end of the château. It wound around to the orchard.

He wasn’t there.

A hollow sensation crept through her. She checked her watch. It was already eight o’clock. Disturbed that he might have made plans with a woman and had gone into Angers for dinner, she drove to the front of the château once more.

Of course she could phone him, but he wouldn’t appreciate a call if he was with someone else. Besides, he’d thought she’d gone back to the Hermitage for good. The only thing to do was drive to the next village in the opposite direction from Chanzeaux where she wouldn’t run into her father by accident. After grabbing a bite to eat, she would come back and wait for Alex.

“Bonsoir, Monsieur Martan.”

“Bonsoir, Madame Fournier. Has Mademoiselle Lofgren checked in yet?” He hadn’t seen Dana’s car outside.

She shook her head. “Non, monsieur. She doesn’t have a reservation here.”

“Then her father isn’t staying here, either?”

“But of course he is! The person in the adjoining room is Mademoiselle Brusse. She’s an actress doing a film with le fameux Monsieur Lofgren.”

His hands clenched in reaction. If Dana hadn’t come here, then she’d probably driven into Angers to get herself a hotel room. The last trip to the landfill had cost him time before he’d showered and changed clothes, thus the reason he’d missed her.

“Merci, madame.” Before she could detain him with more gossip, he went back outside to phone Dana from the truck. It rang seven times. He was about ready to hang up in frustration when he heard her voice.

“Alex?” She sounded out of breath.

“What’s wrong?” he demanded without preamble.

“My left front tire is flat. I’ve been trying to work the jack, but I’ve been having problems. Pretty soon I’ll figure it out.”

The band constricting his lungs tightened. “Where are you exactly?”

“Somewhere on the road between Rablay and Beaulieu.”

“I’m on my way.” He started the engine and drove away from the hotel. “Stay in your car and lock the doors.”

“Don’t worry about me.”

“What caused you to go in that direction?”

“When you weren’t at the château, I decided to get dinner in the next village, but I never made it.”

The blood hammered in his ears. “You came by the château?”

“Yes. Dad and Saskia have been quarreling. It’s nothing new, but while they work things out she’s going to stay in the adjoining room.”

“Why did you come back?”

“In order to ask if I could rerent my bedroom so to speak, that is if you don’t mind.”

He muttered something unintelligible under his breath.

“What did you say, Alex? I’m not sure we have a good connection.”

This had nothing to do with the connection. His hand tightened on the steering wheel. “And your father approves?”

There was a brief silence. “No. Does that mean there’s no room at the inn?”

Ciel! “You know better than to ask that question.” The fact was just beginning to sink in that she’d come to him whether her father liked it or not.

“You sound upset. In case I’ve ruined your plans for the evening, please forget about me. If I can’t fix the tire, I’ll walk to the château and wait until you come home later.”

“No, you won’t—” A woman who looked like her wasn’t safe in daylight. Alex didn’t even want to think about her being alone in the dark.

“I realize you think I’m too young to do anything on my own, but I’m not helpless.”

“Age has nothing to do with it. I’m just being careful.”

“Point taken,” she admitted in a quiet voice.

His body relaxed. “Where would you like to eat tonight?”

“You mean you haven’t had dinner, either?”

“As a matter of fact, I went to the Hermitage in the hope we could drive into Angers for a meal, but Madame Fournier informed me a certain actress had taken over your room.”

“Saskia didn’t waste any time announcing herself.”

“Madame Fournier lives for such moments.”

Her sigh came through the line, infiltrating his body. “I don’t want to talk about either of them. I’m too hungry. To be honest my mouth has been watering for one of those quiches we bought in Angers. Are there any left?”

He smiled. “I’ve saved everything for us. There’s more than plenty for several meals.” Alex preferred dining in tonight where he didn’t have to share her with anyone. While his thoughts were on their evening ahead, he saw her car at the side of the road and pulled off behind her. “Don’t be alarmed. I’ve got your car in my headlights.”

“I have to admit I’m glad it’s you. I’ll hang up.”

Alex heard the slight quiver in her voice before the line went dead. Though he had no doubt she could handle herself in most situations, her relief was evident. So was his now that he’d caught up to her.

After shutting off the ignition, he reached in the glove box for his flashlight and got out of the truck. She rolled down the window and poked her beautiful golden head out the opening. He caught the flash of those startling blue eyes in the light.

“Did I do it wrong?”

For a second he was so concentrated on her, everything else went out of his mind. “Let me take a look,” he murmured, before shining the light on the tire. It was flat, all right.

She climbed out of the car. “What can I do to help?”

Her flowery fragrance seduced him. “If you’ll hold the flashlight right there, I’ll have this changed in a minute.”

Their fingers brushed in the transfer, increasing his awareness of the warm feminine body standing behind him. He hunkered down to work the jack and remove the tire. Several cars slowed down as they passed before moving on. “You must have picked up a nail.”

“I’ll get it fixed tomorrow.” When he started to get up she asked, “Would you like the light to find the spare?”

“Thank you, but I don’t need it.”

He opened the car door to trip the trunk latch. Except for her sleeping bag, there was nothing else inside. That made it easy to retrieve the smaller tire and put it on. After he’d tightened the lug nuts, he lowered the car and put the flat in the trunk with the tools.

She walked toward him and handed him the flashlight. “You did that so fast I can’t believe it.”

“All it takes is practice. Over the years I’ve gotten a lot of it driving trucks out in areas where you have to do the repairs yourself or walk fifty miles.”

“Thank you for coming to my rescue, even if you pretend it was nothing.”

“It was my pleasure.” Unable to help himself, he briefly kissed those lips that had been tantalizing him. They were soft and sweet beneath his. He wanted so much more, but not out here on the road in view of any passerby. “Now let’s get back to the château. I’ll follow you.”

He helped her inside the car, then he jumped in the truck. She made a U-turn and headed for Rablay-Sur-Layon only a short distance off. Once they’d turned onto the private road, he pressed the remote so they could drive through the gate.

The noise it made clanking shut was the most satisfying sound he’d heard in a long time. It signaled that they’d left the world behind. For the rest of the night it was just the two of them.