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CHAPTER SEVEN

KATE was still riding the wave of passion and excitement from the chase and it only took the smallest shift for that energy to change direction. The touch of Guy’s hard chest against the scant protection of her wet blouse was enough. And this time she was on an unstoppable rollercoaster ride that swept every rule aside. With a sharp cry of intent she lashed her arms around his neck in an attempt to put an end to the torment once and for all. Why not kiss him and make him kiss her back? But he only caught hold of her wrists and forced her back—back and away from him until she lay panting and spent on the mossy bed by his side.

‘Did you really think I would allow you to take advantage of me?’ he demanded, delivering the rebuke in a fierce, teasing voice.

He was so close she could see the tiny aquamarine flecks in his dazzling grey eyes—so close they seemed to share the same breath, the same air. ‘Take advantage of you!’ Kate gasped, knowing she was pinned so securely he could do anything with her he liked. ‘Let me go—let me go!’ she exclaimed, fighting to stop her gaze lingering on his mouth. But he had captured her wrists in one hand, whilst his other posed a delicious threat as it hovered over her, reducing her to writhing on the ground, to his obvious entertainment.

‘How can I let you go?’ he said, as if there might have been the slightest chance he would. ‘Wild-cats must be tamed.’

With a throaty explosion of frustration made sound, she lay still.

Guy’s eyes mirrored his thought processes, Kate realised as she watched a kaleidoscopic display of infinitesimal changes taking place in their silvery depths. So when his gaze darkened she knew the cause. The girl was left behind at last as he saw her as the woman she had become. It was an awakening for him, a revelation that brought a softening to his features Kate had never seen before. Releasing her, he took her face in his hands. The stillness surrounding them seemed absolute, as if all nature held its breath. And then, as if to endorse his discovery, Guy lowered his head and pressed the firm cushion of his lips against her slightly open mouth. It was at once the most sensitive and the most sensuous experience Kate had ever known.

‘Is that what you wanted, Kate?’ he murmured, lifting his head away without making the slightest attempt to deepen the kiss. ‘Or perhaps this…ceci?’ As his hands moved to feather caresses on either side of her neck she drew in a sharp breath, but now he was trailing his fingertips over every curve and indentation of her naked shoulders. Through it all he watched intently as she tried vainly to curb the betraying movement of her hips. ‘Perhaps not,’ he murmured as his gaze shifted to her erect nipples competing for his attention beneath the clinging blouse.

Through the miasma of arousal Kate was aware she had him in her sway. The game was far from over yet. Willing ice through her veins, she managed somehow to sit up. Her gaze was an outright challenge. She watched in triumph as Guy failed to keep his gaze level. It strayed to the ruby upthrust of nipples taunting him from beneath the revealing, wet fabric. But, just as she was complimenting herself on reclaiming the advantage, he threw back his head and gave a laugh that rippled through her body like a seismic tremor.

‘You’d like that, wouldn’t you, sweet Kate?’ he murmured, maintaining a tantalising distance between them.

‘What do you mean?’ In spite of Kate’s attempt to launch herself back into the fray, her voice sounded about as steady as a feather on a breath of wind. ‘I don’t understand what you’re trying to say.’

‘Then allow me to enlighten you,’ Guy murmured as he wound a damp tendril of Titian hair round his finger like a tether. ‘I think you’d like to see me lose control…bend to your will…serve you like some plundering stallion.’

‘No!’ His suggestion was outrageous—and so was its effect on her senses. Before she had a chance to recover he captured her chin in his hand.

‘I disagree,’ he said in low, harsh tone. ‘I think that’s exactly what you’d like me to do. Mais—’ He shook his head in mock-regret. ‘It isn’t going to be like that, Kate.’ Then, keeping her trapped in his gaze, he kissed her—just a frustrating brush of his lips accompanied by a sharp warning sound of denial when she tried to urge him on. ‘My way,’ he insisted softly when she sighed her complaint. ‘Or no way.’ But his way was gathering strength all the time, and a soft moan escaped Kate’s throat when a deep throb of pleasure accompanied his tongue’s possession of her mouth. Refusing her the firmer touch of his hands, Guy continued to ravish her mouth with a skill that left her weak, plunging and withdrawing in a provocative game of advance and retreat that effortlessly crowned her own inexpert tactics. ‘Better, Kate?’ he murmured sardonically as he lifted his head. ‘Or still not quite enough for you?’

‘I think you know the answer to that,’ she said huskily against the corner of his mouth, moulding herself to him when he kissed her again.

As if he could not bear to be removed from her lips for a moment, Guy helped her to take off the sodden blouse while they kissed. As soon as she was free his hands moved to claim her breasts. Then, swinging down flat on the ground, he brought her on top of him, still holding her away so that her tortured nipples were only inches from his face. ‘Now feed me,’ he ordered softly, his sweeping sable brows lifting in sardonic challenge. Gently and slowly he brought her down until Kate could feed one engorged tip between his lips. He took the other side himself, rolling the sensitive bud over and over between his tongue and his lips until she thought she’d go mad for him. But he showed her no mercy at all and only brought her legs round to straddle him so that she felt the unmistakable heat and thrust of his erection pulsing against her. She wanted him. Oh, how she wanted him.

But the moment he moved her skirt, she said, ‘No!’ and flinched back.

‘Non?’ Guy queried softly, hearing the panic in her voice.

‘No, I can’t… I just can’t.’ Shaking her head, Kate pulled away from him. Going to sit on her own a few feet away she drew her knees up and, wrapping her arms around them, she buried her face in her lap.

‘What’s wrong?’ Guy said, putting a protective arm around her shoulders. ‘Tell me, Kate. What’s the matter?’

‘I just can’t, that’s all,’ she said, burying her face deeper.

‘Look at me,’ he insisted gently. ‘Non, Kate,’ he said sharply when she turned away. ‘Look at me, Kate. Don’t turn away. Something’s upset you and you must tell me what it is.’

Still with her head buried on her knees, she turned her face just enough to mutter, ‘My damaged leg—it’s ugly.’

Guy stayed very still for a few moments then gently brought her round to face him. ‘Kate, Kate, courageous Kate,’ he murmured tenderly, ‘let me assure you that there is not one part of you I could possibly find ugly.’

‘There is,’ she argued, her eyes clouding with certainty.

‘Show me,’ he said simply.

‘I can’t.’

Laying her down flat on the ground beside him, Guy peeled back the soaking skirt to expose a scar that snaked down her left leg almost to the knee.

‘I had to have a plate put in after the accident,’ Kate explained tonelessly. ‘Now tell me it isn’t ugly.’

‘I think you’re beautiful,’ Guy said. ‘And that means every part of you. This doesn’t make any difference to me at all. I still think you’re beautiful.’ And, dipping his head, he planted kisses all the way down the fine silvery line. ‘Come to me,’ he said, drawing her into his arms. ‘Just lie quietly with me here and forget everything that happened—put everything out of your mind except for the fact that you’ve come back to me—back to France where I’ll never let anything hurt you again.’

Guy had seen the wound on her leg now, Kate thought as tears began to run unseen by him down her cheeks, but he couldn’t see the wound that his trust had just carved in her heart.

‘And where have you been?’ Megan demanded fondly when Kate returned to the cottage shortly before dusk. ‘A walk, you said. Not a ruddy marathon. And look at you! Your skirt’s a mess. Are you all right?’

Glancing down ruefully at her clothes, Kate hardly knew where to begin. ‘I’m fine,’ she said as a catch-all. ‘Stop worrying about me, Megan. I’m a big girl now.’

‘Oh, really.’ Megan sighed, clearly unconvinced.

‘I met Guy…’

‘Now you do surprise me,’ Megan murmured.

‘I fell in the stream…’

‘And he fished you out.’

‘Pretty much.’

‘Nothing hurt?’

‘Only my pride.’

‘Well, that’s good, because I’ve got some news for you.’

From the way Megan was assessing her reaction with sneaky looks in the mirror whilst pretending to be fully occupied checking out the sets of paintbrushes she was arranging on the worktop, Kate thought the news might not be good. ‘Go on.’

‘Three of our guests phoned to ask if they could arrive a little early—so I telephoned the others and asked…’

‘Oh, Megan, you didn’t…’

‘As we are going to be welcoming half the neighbourhood to our opening bash I thought it would be a grand occasion they shouldn’t miss.’

‘You did?’ Kate said, throwing Megan a look of fond exasperation.

‘I did,’ Megan admitted, shooting Kate a look through her lashes to see if she was forgiven. ‘Well, it’s in at the deep end, pet. And that’s by far the best way, if you ask me. I can’t bear to see you getting so worked up over this business. After all these years you should know better than anyone that there’s not a person alive who could put one over on young Guy. Why don’t you just come clean and tell him you intend to run a guest house…?’

‘No, Megan,’ Kate said firmly. ‘I can assure you…’

‘Assure me all you like,’ Megan broke in flatly. ‘But he’s as stubborn as you are and he’s got a lot on his plate at the moment, what with restoring the château, recovering the business and worrying about his mother. As far as I’m concerned, the sooner everything’s out in the open, the better.’

‘Like you said, he’s got enough on his plate,’ Kate said. ‘And where should I confront him, do you think—in front of our first guests?’

‘And half the village,’ Megan reminded Kate gaily, refusing to be discouraged.

‘I’m sorry,’ Kate said, putting an arm around Megan’s shoulders to give her a hug. ‘I know you’re right. I just can’t seem to find the right moment… And you can stop looking at me like that,’ she said, trying not to smile when Megan’s eyebrows shot up. OK, Kate thought wryly, so she would add crisis management to her list of accomplishments. Mentally rolling up her sleeves, she ran quickly through a checklist. ‘Any news of the electricity?’

‘Not a word,’ Megan said.

‘Right, leave that to me. Are you ready to roll?’

‘As I’ll ever be,’ Megan confirmed.

‘And I can easily bring forward my order for fresh vegetables from the château,’ Kate murmured thoughtfully, ‘so that’s not a problem.’ And Guy had said he was going away for a few days, so what on earth was she worrying about?

By the time he got back everything would be working like clockwork. ‘I’m glad you said our guests could come earlier, Megan. Suddenly I can’t wait to get this new business of ours up and running.’

Just a few days later the first guests’ arrival at La Petite Maison took Kate completely by surprise. Megan was in the back garden, setting up some easels under a canopy where she planned to allow the children from the village to test their artistic skills at the party, while Kate was busy in the kitchen preparing food with her long hair piled up and secured by a piece of vivid emerald-green chiffon. She had covered her simple working clothes with one of her capacious white aprons whose patch pockets contained all sorts of essential items, from a ball of string to a corkscrew. The windows and the doors had been left open so that she and Megan could exchange news on their individual progress at the shout, and fragrant cooking aromas had been escaping for hours so that the cottage was enveloped in a cocoon of mouthwateringly good smells.

Kate was so wrapped up in piping a decoration on top of one of her cakes that she missed the first timid knock, but a second, louder tap called her attention to the door. Putting down the piping bag, she called out, ‘Come straight in,’ then hurried to the door, wiping her hands on the front of her apron as she went. ‘Madame la Comtesse!’ she exclaimed, amazed to see Guy’s mother on the threshold, accompanied by Madame Duplessis.

‘Ah, I knew it would be inconvenient,’ the Dowager Countess exclaimed, taking a step backward as she put a lace-gloved hand to her mouth.

‘Not at all,’ Kate insisted, standing back encouragingly.

‘Well—if you’re sure,’ the elderly lady said hesitantly, peering curiously past Kate into the room. ‘Only there is so much talk… I couldn’t resist coming to see what all the fuss is about. Not that I listen to gossip,’ she said quickly. ‘It’s just that everyone is so excited about the party…’ She trailed off with a wistful, ‘And I shan’t be there…’

‘But why shouldn’t you come?’ Kate said, flashing a look at Madame Duplessis, whom she hoped would back her up. Before Madame Duplessis had a chance to speak, Megan bustled back inside.

‘Why not indeed?’ Megan declared.

‘Megan? What are you doing here?’ the Countess said, reaching out as if she couldn’t quite believe her eyes.

‘I’m here to inject a little chaos into Kate’s well-ordered home,’ Megan informed her as she took hold of the Countess’s hands in her warm grip and raised them to her lips. ‘You look pale,’ she said with her customary frankness.

‘Ah, well.’ The Countess sighed dismissively. ‘They’re saying I should come to this party. What do you think about it, Megan?’

‘What harm could it do?’ Megan said frankly.

The Countess looked from one to the other as if seeking reassurance from them all. ‘Oh, no,’ she protested, fluttering her hands. ‘I’m far too old for that sort of thing.’

‘Nonsense,’ Kate insisted as she removed her apron. ‘And, as a matter of fact, I could do with some help.’ Ignoring Madame Duplessis’s shocked look, Kate continued to give voice to her plan as she escorted the Countess across the room to the most comfortable chair. ‘You see, madame, there will be many more people than I had imagined at first…’

‘The place will be overrun,’ Megan cut in enthusiastically. ‘We’re desperate for help…’

‘I could help,’ Madame Duplessis offered, looking quickly at the Countess for confirmation.

‘We both could,’ the Countess of Villeneuve declared firmly as she settled herself down on to the plump cushions. ‘There was a time when I held parties twice a year for everyone in the village… You remember, Megan? I know you came once or twice with dear Alice…’ She stopped and had to recover her composure. ‘But Kate,’ she said at last, injecting some vigour into the sadness, ‘you must tell us what to do.’

‘That was a good move of yours,’ Megan declared later over supper when they were alone. ‘You accomplished more than all the doctors could with that one suggestion to the Countess.’

Kate brushed off the praise with a small gesture as she heaped Megan’s plate with a second slice of still warm cherry clafoutis. ‘Cream?’ Adding a little pouring cream, she passed the sugar-dusted, crisp and creamy batter pudding across the table to Megan. Then, easing back in her chair, she smothered a yawn. ‘I was just so thrilled to see the sparkle back in her eyes again. I only hope she knows what she’s taking on. Do you think we’re ready, Megan?’

Glancing round the kitchen, Megan smiled. ‘I know we are.’

Every available surface was stacked high with Kate’s delectable cakes and pastries, and plenty more had been taken back to the château to be stored overnight in the massive refrigerators.

‘No wonder you’re tired,’ Megan said sympathetically. ‘You’ve made enough to feed half of France, never mind half the village.’

‘I just didn’t want them to be disappointed.’

Megan made a scoffing noise. ‘No chance of that.’

‘And I wanted to make a good impression on our first guests,’ Kate added, making a final mental check on the bedrooms. ‘Fresh flowers—’

‘What’s that?’

‘Fresh flowers for the bedrooms and around the cottage,’ Kate said, looking worried suddenly. ‘I completely forgot—and I’d like some for the table outside.’ She planned to present much of the food on one long table in the garden. The Countess had offered several trestle tables that could be placed together to fit her needs, but the flowers—

‘Marie Therese said…’ Megan began.

‘Marie Therese?’ Kate said, her mouth curving in a wry smile. ‘My, we are on good terms.’

‘The Countess expressly asked me to call her by her first name, just like your aunt used to do,’ Megan revealed, her plump cheeks flushing pink as she revealed this development.

‘Well, go on then,’ Kate encouraged. ‘What did Marie Therese say to you?’ she enquired, her happy emerald eyes glowing like jewels.

‘She said we could have the pick of her nurseries and the garden,’ Megan said with a contented flourish as she forked up the last scrap of her dessert.

‘But that’s wonderful!’ Kate said, mentally erasing another worry. ‘So,’ she said thoughtfully. ‘Our first house-guests arrive just before noon…and everyone else will be here shortly after that.’

‘That’s right,’ Megan said, watching Kate’s face, knowing they had set themselves an almost impossibly tight schedule.

But in spite of all the problems, not least of which was the possibility that Guy could turn up unannounced, Kate felt a rush of incredible excitement rather than apprehension. ‘Then I think we’d better get to bed,’ she said with a last glance around. ‘It’s going to be a hectic day tomorrow.’

‘You can say that again,’ Megan muttered as she started blowing out candles. ‘And I only hope you’re right about our guests finding the lack of electricity a novelty.’

‘As long as they have plenty of hot water they’ll be fine,’ Kate said confidently, ‘and the old range is firing on all cylinders since Giles came to service it.’

‘I hope you’re right,’ Megan repeated as she handed Kate a candle to light her way upstairs. ‘And I hope they’re careful. The last thing we need is another fire.’

‘Don’t tell me you’re having second thoughts, Megan,’ Kate said wryly. ‘I told you Guy promised to sort out the electrical supply if I hadn’t managed to influence the local authorities by the time he returned home from his business trip.’

‘He told you this during that fishing trip of his, I suppose. The same fishing trip where you disappeared off on that walk and returned home looking like a love-struck mermaid? Yes, I remember,’ Megan said dryly. ‘And will you be telling him why you need the electricity so badly?’

‘I’ll think of something,’ Kate said distractedly, knowing that Megan had just guaranteed her a sleepless night.

Three anxious-looking elderly spinsters from the dramatically desolate Pennine region in the North of England, one ashen-faced retired rocker from Bermondsey and an exotically dressed middle-aged man with more facial hair than Father Christmas constituted something less, and yet, at the same time, rather more than the high-flying executives Kate had envisaged for her first guests after advertising La Petite Maison in the business section of one of the broadsheets. Fortunately, Megan took it all in her stride.

‘It couldn’t have worked out better,’ she declared, leaning over Kate’s shoulder to peer out of the window at them. ‘They’re an interesting group of people and they won’t be so edgy. And, my word, those men certainly add some colour!’ She squinted professionally along her paintbrush as they both stared at the gold brocade caftan of one and the fit-where-they-touch, shiny vinyl pants of the other.

‘It couldn’t have worked out better?’ Kate echoed. ‘And how do you make that out?’ she said as she loaded some tumblers on to a tray. ‘They’ll hardly blend in. How am I going to explain them to the Countess?’

‘Say they’re house guests,’ Megan suggested promptly. ‘Well, it’s true,’ she added as she turned to greet the three ladies, who were just coming down the stairs. Far from being alarmed by the lack of electricity, they had declared themselves enchanted by the rustic charm of the cottage. ‘Now, wait a minute,’ Megan said, stalling midway across the room. ‘Who’s that I see coming up the path?’

‘Oh, no.’ Kate’s poise slipped as she followed Megan’s gaze. ‘I don’t believe it.’ As her heart took off at the sight of Guy striding towards the front door, she became vaguely but very thankfully aware that Megan had the good sense to usher their three female visitors out of the back door.

A distinctive rap sounded on the door, then Guy walked into the kitchen. ‘Kate—’

‘Guy!’ she exclaimed rather too energetically. ‘What a surprise!’

‘Is it?’ he said curiously. ‘I have got the right day, haven’t I?’ And, when she looked at him blankly, he added a reminder, ‘Your house-warming party?’

So, he had made it after all… The fact that her heart was roaring in her ears had nothing whatever to do with the fact that her first house guests were currently walking right by the window, Kate realised, as she shifted position so that he was forced to look in the opposite direction. ‘Oh, yes…yes, of course,’ she said, trying not to accept that her throat had dried just at the sight of him in his casual linen suit and crisp white shirt. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, clapping her hands together in pretended recovery. ‘Of course I’m expecting you. I’m not quite ready yet, that’s all.’

‘Good,’ he said, oblivious to the sexual waves with which he was flooding out her kitchen. ‘Well, I’m glad I got here before everyone else because I’ve got a surprise for you. Bien, aren’t you going to ask me what it is?’

Kate tried to answer, but the words wouldn’t come.

‘Don’t look so worried,’ he said with a smile that would have melted a heart of stone, but only succeeded in making Kate stand rigid in an attempt to hide her feelings. ‘It’s just the man to connect the electricity for you,’ he said, sounding pleased with himself, patently unaware of the riot he was causing to her senses. ‘I brought him with me so there could be no mistake and no more delays. I left him up at that small electrical station on the hill, where he’s sorting out the supply for you right now.’

‘Oh, wonderful…’ Kate said, wondering insanely if he could hear her heart jangling in her chest.

Almost as if drawn by invisible hands, Guy moved slowly past her to stare out of the window.

‘Who are those people?’ he said mildly. ‘I don’t think I recognise them.’

‘Which people?’ Kate said, hearing her voice come out in a squeak.

‘Are they actors come to entertain at the party?’

She realised she was wringing her hands in alarm—and Guy could read body language with the best of them, Kate realised, shoving them behind her back fast.

‘Or are they perhaps—’ it was like being held by her ankles over hot coals, Kate thought as she waited for him to finish ‘—paying guests, Kate?’ The edge in his voice wasn’t half as effective as the prolonged silence that came after the accusation.

‘Well?’ he demanded quietly. ‘Don’t you think you owe me an explanation?’

There was something approaching menace in his voice and it rattled Kate’s faltering hold on composure. ‘You said you wouldn’t mind my opening an office,’ she reasoned, gulping hard.

‘An office, no,’ Guy agreed in the same measured tone.

‘So? Is this so different?’

‘Is what so different?’

‘My guest house.’

‘Your what?’ he spat out.

‘You heard me,’ Kate insisted, drawing herself up. She would not be intimidated—she would not. His arms shot out like two steel girders, keeping her imprisoned with her back against the counter.

‘The covenants on La Petite Maison do not permit it,’ he growled very close to her face.

The force of his stare would have been enough to make most people fall to their knees and beg for mercy, but Kate had seen that look before. Tossing up her head, she confronted the molten steel gaze unblinking. ‘Well, I didn’t know anything about your wretched covenants when I started to plan all this and now it’s too late to do anything about it.’

‘You obviously haven’t read through those documents I gave you… Well, have you, Kate?’ he demanded fiercely. ‘And you might have done better to make some enquiries before you started planning your new venture,’ he said curtly. ‘But you know what really annoys me?’ he added, staring straight into her eyes, and as Kate shook her head dumbly, he went on, ‘The fact that you couldn’t be honest with me—that you couldn’t trust me enough to tell me about these plans of yours.’

‘Perhaps if you hadn’t kept on about those wretched covenants—’

‘This has nothing to do with covenants, Kate, and you know it,’ Guy snapped back at her. ‘This is about trust.’

He kept her trapped in front of him, forcing her to draw her head back from the heat in his gaze.

‘Trust between two people,’ he continued, ‘requires that they are straight with each other. Don’t shake your head at me like that, as if you haven’t the slightest idea what I’m talking about…’

‘I don’t,’ Kate ground out miserably, wondering how long it would be before his anger was tainted by contempt.

‘Well, I’ll explain,’ Guy promised tersely. ‘You trusted me with your body, but when it comes to your life, you shut me out. What sort of woman does that, Kate?’

His accusation was stunning in its ferocity and Kate’s head felt as if it was being held inside a steel vice and where there had been fire in her veins now there was only ice. ‘I don’t understand…’

‘Non, Kate,’ Guy corrected her bitterly. ‘I’m the one who doesn’t understand. Did you really think I was such a monster?’

‘So, how do you feel about my plans?’ she challenged.

‘Furious now,’ he admitted frankly. ‘I’m not going to let it happen.’

‘But it is happening,’ Kate pointed out, wishing she could sound a bit more sure of that.

With a gust of impatience, Guy wheeled away from her. He took a couple of strides across the room, where he drew to a halt with his back to her and swiped one tense hand across the back of his neck. ‘This isn’t a game, Kate. You aren’t a little girl now. You can’t just arrive in Villeneuve after all these years and turn everything here upside down.’

The passion in his voice frightened her. ‘And is that what I’m doing?’ Kate demanded softly.

‘You know you are,’ Guy murmured without turning around.

She longed to go to him, to say how sorry she was and ask if they could begin all over again. But the deep-rooted reserve she had always felt, being lower on the social scale than the Count de Villeneuve, held her back. He turned very slowly and stood in silence looking at her, his face a mask that told her nothing.

‘There’s no time to discuss this now,’ he said decisively. ‘You have guests waiting outside and more are due to arrive at any moment.’

‘That’s right,’ Kate agreed, holding her breath to see what he would say next.

‘Just remember, Kate. These estates and the people who depend upon them don’t exist for my pleasure. I serve the Villeneuve estate and everyone connected with it. It’s up to me to ensure that the environment in which we all live—’

‘Is sterile?’ she cut in.

He looked hurt by the remark. ‘I cannot allow you to run a guest house here,’ he said flatly.

‘And I cannot allow you to tell me what to do,’ Kate retorted, returning to the fray.

‘Perhaps if you had read those damned documents you would understand—’

‘Understand what?’ she said, shaking her head with frustration.

‘There’s no time,’ Guy said tensely. ‘The future of the Villeneuve estate may mean nothing to you, Kate. But it’s my life.’

‘And a pretty boring one with no characters in it,’ she pointed out stubbornly.

‘There are more than enough characters in the village without you importing any more,’ Guy informed her as he flared a glance out of the window. ‘Those covenants stand, and if you can’t, or won’t, live by them—’

‘What? Get out?’ Kate suggested angrily. She watched his jaw clench as he bit back the words that were clearly clamouring in his head. Guy wasn’t used to being countermanded. She could see his iron will flexing from every angle in the mirrors over the counter; his eyes were narrowed, his mouth a firm line, jaw tight and the magnificent spread of his shoulders were raised in a tense pose as he braced his hands against the side to watch Megan showing the others round the garden.

‘No, not that,’ he murmured to himself. ‘That would be far too easy for you.’

What did he really see? Kate wondered as she followed his gaze. Could Guy see La Petite Maison already working its magic on those six people outside, as she could? Did he hear their laughter, see the animation in their faces, the glow of anticipation in their eyes? How would he feel when he knew his own mother…?

He pulled away from the counter at last and stared down at her.

‘I can’t stop this now,’ Kate said tensely. ‘I know you’re angry with me, but—’

‘I’m more disappointed than angry,’ he said honestly, ‘that you didn’t see fit to share your plans with me.’

His anger wouldn’t have hurt so much, Kate realised. But what she had told him was true—she couldn’t turn back now. There were too many hopes invested in La Petite Maison. She only had to think of what Megan had given up. ‘If you force me to, I’ll fight you every inch of the way.’

‘Of that I have no doubt,’ he murmured.

For a few moments nothing seemed to exist beyond the drama being played out between them. Kate felt exhausted by it before she started.

‘You’d better get ready,’ Guy said, reading her mood. ‘Everyone will be here soon.’

‘So you won’t…?’ Her voice tailed away as she looked up at him.

‘I won’t spoil your party,’ he confirmed. A shadow briefly crossed his face, as if he was fighting an internal battle—almost as if part of him wanted her to succeed. ‘I can see how much effort you’ve put into this,’ he said as his glance took in the beautifully presented dishes of food covering every available surface. ‘We’ll talk about La Petite Maison some other time—soon,’ he added, as if to prove to her that the problem wouldn’t just go away.

‘Thank you,’ Kate said simply. ‘Will you stay?’

‘Stay?’

‘Yes, for the party. Why not?’

‘If I do,’ Guy reasoned aloud, ‘it will appear to everyone that I am endorsing your decision to open a guest house on the estate.’

‘And if you don’t,’ Kate argued, ‘the villagers will wonder why you do not wish to share this happy occasion with them.’

‘Oh, Kate…you’ve no idea, have you?’ He pressed his firm lips together as he looked at her and she saw the familiar mix of indulgence and frustration in his keen grey eyes. ‘I’d be no use to you here, anyway,’ he said, as if trying to convince himself.

‘I disagree.’

‘Of course you do,’ he said dryly. ‘Force of habit.’

A small answering smile touched her lips as she saw the suspicion of a smile starting to tug at the corners of his mouth.

‘Allez,’ he said softly, in a voice that made her ready to walk over hot coals for him if he asked. ‘Go and get ready for your guests.’

‘You’ll still be here when I get back?’

His jaw worked and he said nothing, only his sweeping brows rose minutely, as if he was pleased she had asked the question.

As she walked away from him, Kate felt the intensity of his stare following her every move—scorching a trail between her shoulder blades. She had no idea whether he would still be there when she had freshened up, but there was no doubt in her mind at all that this business between them was going to run and run.