The French Count's Mistress Page 14

  ‘Well, Kate?’ he demanded, clearly expecting some erudite comment.

  ‘Er… Honey, melon…sunshine?’ she added in desperation.

  ‘Très bien,’ he drawled.

  His praise thrilled through her and, considering the exceptional circumstances, Kate couldn’t help feeling rather pleased with herself.

  ‘Now sip,’ he instructed as he brought the glass to her lips.

  ‘Can I swallow?’

  His look was X-rated. ‘I’ll leave that up to you,’ he murmured dryly.

  ‘Mmm, delicious,’ she said, flashing him a wide-eyed look.

  ‘Here, let me take that,’ Guy said, removing the glass from her hand, his face a mask of beautifully controlled amusement. ‘Shall we dance?’

  ‘Dance?’

  ‘Yes, you know,’ he prompted softly. ‘I take hold of you and we move together rhythmically.’

  This was one game she was never going to win, Kate decided. Nonchalant compliance was the only way if she was to stand a chance of concealing the ridiculous amount of happiness bubbling away inside her at the realisation that he seemed to have forgiven her.

  Taking her silence for assent, Guy linked her arm through his and led her towards the patio. Men and women and children were packed in, jostling for space as they danced to the boisterous music. But as soon as they saw Guy approaching some people nudged others and others stopped dancing altogether, until finally the accordionist’s fingers faltered and then stilled.

  Feeling self-conscious suddenly, Kate pinned an apologetic smile to her face as she glanced around. Perhaps this was as good a moment as any to return to the kitchen.

  Sensing her uncertainty, Guy firmed his grip on her arm. ‘Continuez…please,’ he insisted. ‘Mademoiselle Foster is a little timid…’

  ‘No, I’m not!’ Kate whispered fiercely.

  He gave a rueful shrug, the corners of his mouth sloping in wry amusement as the music started up again, but at a more sedate pace—and Kate aimed a kick at his shins. ‘Missed,’ he said, contentedly drawing her close.

  With her defiance dispatched at a touch, Kate’s senses flared beneath Guy’s controlling hands. Firm, but restrained, he left her in no doubt that she would not be allowed to get away until he was ready. Not that she wanted to…ever. But this was only power play for him, she reminded herself forcefully. Guy had always relished the opportunity to bait what he called her wilful spirit—and nothing had changed. She had no doubt he would wield that same power—and with swingeing attention to detail when it came to asserting the wretched covenants when it suited him. But until then… Constraint was seductive, she realised, as the smallest movement of his fingers caused her own to respond, yielding; searching, until the urge to explore the contours of his enclosing fist was impossible to ignore.

  Guy made no move either to discourage or encourage, but simply permitted her to twine her fingers through his. It was enough. She was on fire for him. He responded with equal subtlety, one hand shifting very slightly on her waist, increasing the pressure as they moved easily together to the music. His message was unmistakable…if she chose to hear it. Kate flicked a glance around but, having accepted the fact that their Count was happy to mingle with them on the makeshift dance floor, everyone had started dancing again. There was no one to see as she rested her cheek against his chest and wondered what it would be like to have Guy make love to her…to see him focus his mind, his strength and his considerable finesse on pleasuring her.

  She could feel the hard contours of his body through the lightweight summer fabrics and picturing him without any clothes on at all didn’t take a great leap of the imagination. The thought of Guy stretched out completely naked and fully exposed for her to enjoy on some huge bed was intoxicating. How small she would look next to him, Kate mused, sighing with delicious anticipation as she pressed her breasts up against an unyielding expanse of chest… He would overwhelm her…engulf her with his powerful frame which, if the laws of proportion held true, meant that this wonderful body currently nudging against every erogenous zone she possessed would be completed by the most magnificent erection—the very thought of which sent a bolt of sensation shimmering down her spine to lodge in a place that was already disgracefully receptive. For a moment she could think of nothing at all as she allowed some tantalising little spasms to herald a foretaste of his lovemaking.

  She felt his arms tighten around her, almost as if he sensed what was happening, sensed it and supported her so that she could relax into the startlingly pleasurable waves. A moan that was little more than a sigh escaped her as they faded away again far too soon… Hearing that, he stroked one hand very slowly down the length of her back almost as if to console her. She had always known Guy would be a wonderful and intuitive lover; one who knew just how to draw out the pleasure for her until she was forced to beg him for release. He would choose the moment—he would know when to tip her over the edge. He might be all charm, elegance and sophistication on the outside, but those wickedly expressive eyes and all too knowledgeable hands gave him away… They belonged to a connoisseur of the sensual arts, and one who was driving her crazy right now with his whispering passes of a rock-hard thigh against the pulsing site of her arousal.

  ‘Forgive me, Kate… Kate.’ He was forced to repeat her name a little louder to drag her back from her erotic daydreams.

  ‘Forgive you—’ she murmured distractedly, looking up at him with eyes clouded with desire. ‘For what?’

  ‘I haven’t been paying you enough attention,’ he murmured, a gleam of intuition brightening his gaze as he stared down at her.

  As his cool minty breath caressed her neck Kate felt all the tiny hairs stand erect. Had he been neglecting her? If this was how it felt to be ignored she couldn’t wait to have his full attention. ‘Have you been sidetracked? I hadn’t noticed.’ His eyes were dark with humour when she looked up into them.

  ‘Bien, I’ve been talking to quite a few people,’ he said. ‘You must have noticed.’

  ‘Well, I didn’t,’ Kate said, adding by way of an excuse, ‘I’ve been enjoying the dancing too much.’

  ‘So that’s what it was,’ he said, pretending to be serious, though she could see the amusement tugging at his lips.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Those little sighs of yours,’ he murmured within nibbling distance of her ear.

  He seemed to stop just short of exploring it with his tongue and Kate could do nothing to stop the shiver that vibrated through his hands. ‘So, what were you talking about?’ she said, looking for safer ground.

  ‘Oh, the little personal things that worry people the most.’

  ‘I suppose setting the business back on track has taken up all your time.’

  ‘That’s right,’ he said. ‘And the business must remain a prime concern if it is to flourish. But I think I’ve turned the corner so it’s time to play catch-up on everything I’ve been missing.’

  ‘Meaning?’

  ‘Meaning, I have time to take a look around at what’s happening closer to home,’ he said enigmatically, falling into the rhythm of the slow dance again.

  As the darkening sky became tinged with tangerine and magenta their fellow dancers slipped away and it was a moment or two before Kate realised that the music had stopped.

  ‘No, you two, please don’t stop on my account—’

  As the voice of Guy’s mother slipped between Kate and her fantasy, Guy showed no inclination to release her.

  ‘What a lovely party, my dear,’ the Countess said, touching her arm. ‘We are all so very grateful to you—’

  ‘Oh, no, it was nothing—’

  ‘It was a great deal more than nothing,’ the Countess reprimanded her gently. ‘You have no idea how it brought people together and made them so happy that all their worries were left behind for an afternoon. Why,’ she exclaimed, ‘I can’t remember anything quite like it since—’ She stopped suddenly and Guy reached out his hand. The Countess took it in a firm
grip. ‘Look at you, you lucky man!’ she said, collecting herself hurriedly.

  ‘A beautiful woman on each arm,’ he supplied, smiling down at her.

  He drew both of them close, planting a kiss on the crown of each head. He would have to make it fair—for the sake of appearances, Kate realised, exchanging smiles with the Countess. ‘I’m so pleased you enjoyed yourself. And now you’ve been to see us, don’t be a stranger.’

  ‘Well, actually, that’s the reason I wanted to have a word with you,’ the Countess said, casting a measuring glance at Kate from beneath a thick fringe of lashes so like her son’s.

  ‘Shall we sit down, Mother?’ Guy suggested, moving to take her arm.

  ‘Contrary to what you might think, Guy,’ she informed him promptly, ‘I am quite capable of dancing the night away should I choose to do so.’

  ‘Of course, Mother,’ he said, inclining his head in a brief bow.

  ‘Now, Kate,’ she said, turning the full beam of still beautiful eyes on Kate’s face. ‘Megan said it would make more sense if I stayed over at the cottage tonight, and I wanted to speak to you before I agreed. You see,’ she continued, seeing Kate’s face light up with interest, ‘Megan has a plan.’

  ‘A plan?’ Guy queried.

  ‘To paint the river at dawn—to capture the special way light filters through the trees… You don’t mind?’

  ‘Of course I don’t mind, Mother… Kate?’

  Kate thought quickly. There was still a very nice guest room going spare, overlooking the garden. ‘Of course I don’t mind. In fact, I’ll probably join you on the painting expedition—’

  ‘Ah…’ The Countess looked crestfallen for a moment.

  ‘Is there a problem?’ Kate said gently, all her energies focused on nurturing the Countess’s tentative return to the outside world.

  ‘My plants—’

  ‘The gardeners can very easily add your prize collection to their watering duties,’ Guy pointed out with typical masculine pragmatism.

  ‘Out of the question,’ his mother corrected firmly. ‘I trust those plants to no one—but Kate. You will do that for me, dear?’

  ‘Of course, but…’

  ‘Last thing at night and first thing in the morning,’ the Countess instructed, shooting a warning glance at her son. ‘You’ll find the feed by the side of the watering can. Guy will show you what to do.’ And, having made her wishes clear, she gave Kate’s arm a grateful pat then sailed back to join Megan’s group of fledgling artists, a group Kate was thrilled to see had grown to include a number of villagers as well as the guests from La Petite Maison.

  Realising that either Guy or his chauffeur was now destined to run to and fro with her from the château, Kate turned to offer her apologies.

  ‘I’m very grateful to you for the improvement I see in my mother,’ he said bluntly. ‘And, frankly, I don’t see the problem. Stay over,’ he said as if he was inviting her to take tea on the lawn. ‘I don’t think we should compromise her recovery by placing unnecessary obstacles in her path, do you?’

  ‘Well, no… No, of course not.’ Kate’s heart stopped. Guy’s invitation was so tempting, so full of possibilities. ‘But do I really need to stay?’ she said, longing for him to insist she did.

  ‘Why not? It’s not as if I’m short of bedrooms, and you’ve stayed at the château before.’

  ‘But it will only take a couple of minutes at most to see to the plants—’

  ‘I thought we had a lot to talk about.’

  So much for fantasies! She might have known the covenants would raise their ugly heads sooner or later.

  ‘We might have another drink,’ Guy told her reasonably. ‘Then I shan’t want to drive.’

  ‘But your driver—’

  ‘Will be at Madame Duplessis’s disposal.’

  Kate thought about it for a moment. Much as she hated being backed into a corner, she could hardly force the issue. ‘So, what do you want to discuss?’

  ‘Must I draw up an agenda?’

  His choice of words confirmed her suspicions that the topic for discussion was business.

  ‘You’ve done all you can here,’ he pointed out.

  Glancing towards the cottage, Kate saw a group of about a dozen people clustered around Megan, hanging on her every word. She needed time to think—to work out how to save the situation. ‘But there’s the clearing up to do,’ she argued.

  ‘Don’t you think Madame Duplessis can take care of that?’

  Now she saw that a number of staff from the château had arrived and were setting everything straight again under the housekeeper’s direction.

  ‘Let’s go,’ Guy said, reaching for his jacket.

  ‘I’ll need some things—’

  ‘You’ve got a whole room full of clothes at the château,’ he said, drawing her arm through his. ‘Or had you forgotten?’

  Guy drove his iron-grey Aston Martin straight round to the back of the château and took Kate down the same flight of steps she’d ventured down before. Pausing only to snap on the lights, he led the way across the concrete floor of the vast plant nursery. Opening the door through which he had disappeared on her first visit, he beckoned her in.

  ‘Welcome to Mother’s retreat,’ he said, bending to switch on a lamp that provided just a mellow glow in contrast to the stark working light they had just left. ‘You’re very honoured,’ he said, stepping deeper into the small room. ‘No one is allowed in here apart from me—and now you,’ he said, searching her face for a reaction.

  Kate stood in silence, looking around, and then turned to shut the door behind her—shutting out the world, she realised, feeling the heavy pall of sadness close around her.

  ‘Perhaps now you can understand why I am so grateful to you,’ Guy said softly, leaning back against an old mahogany sideboard housing a collection of beautiful pot plants.

  It had seen some wear, Kate thought, though the pictures in their silver frames vying for space amidst the plants had been dusted recently and their frames gleamed bright with attention. There was more furniture in the room—all of it old and shabby, almost as if it had been picked up in one of the characterful flea markets in Paris.

  ‘From their student days,’ Guy confirmed, reading her face. ‘They shared a small flat—’

  ‘Your mother and father?’

  ‘They were also young once,’ he said, his eyes reflecting the depth of his affection for them.

  Moving closer, Kate could see the photographs. Some, old and grainy, showed the Countess as a beautiful young girl, her face glowing with vitality…and love. ‘Your father was so handsome,’ she remarked, seeing the resemblance at once between father and son. She stroked one finger down a lock of ebony hair tied with a white lace ribbon faded in part to yellow that hung over one corner of the frame.

  ‘My father’s,’ Guy confirmed. ‘Taken on honeymoon while he slept and tied with a ribbon Mother saved from her wedding bouquet.’

  ‘That’s the most romantic thing I ever heard,’ Kate said softly. ‘Your mother must have loved him very much.’

  ‘I loved him very much,’ Guy corrected gently, ‘but he was her life.’

  ‘We must help her,’ Kate said passionately as she stared into Guy’s eyes. She could see his loss written there as clearly as she had seen it in his mother’s eyes, and impulsively she reached out her hand to him. ‘I know you’re hurting too.’

  ‘We all are,’ he said, taking both her hands in his and bringing them to his lips.

  ‘You were right, you know,’ Kate admitted.

  ‘About?’

  ‘Me… Aunt Alice. I can see why you were so worried about the way I reacted when the cottage was on fire. This isn’t the way…’ She gazed about the tiny room filled with a lifetime of memories. ‘Thank you.’ She watched his eyes grow tender as he looked at her.

  ‘Thank you,’ he said softly, leaving go of her hands to take hold of her arms.

  ‘For what?’ Kate murmured as a frisson of awar
eness coursed through her.

  ‘For showing my mother that life can go on,’ he said. ‘I know it can never be the same again for her, but her recovery is the only memorial my father would ask for. There was a time when I thought this room would become the extent of her world without him—until you came back…’

  ‘Oh, nonsense,’ Kate protested softly. ‘Megan’s the one you should be thanking.’ Guy’s face told her she was wrong.

  ‘You have no idea how my mother missed you.’

  ‘I missed her too, Guy. And I missed Villeneuve—’

  ‘And me?’ he said softly. When she didn’t answer, he cupped her face in his hands, making her pulse race as the air between them filled with a heady energy. Dipping his head, Guy brushed his lips very gently against her mouth.

  ‘The plants—’ Kate murmured, making no effort to move away.

  ‘Will wait,’ Guy said. ‘I won’t.’

  ‘No, I promised.’ But as she went to move away desire curled around the hands she was putting up against his chest and transformed the intended push into a caress.

  ‘Check them, if it makes you feel better.’

  He let her go, but Kate could still feel the imprint of his hands. With all the senses in her possession she ached for him. She had waited so long; they both had. She stood for a moment without moving, staring at the plants waiting for her attention and then back again to Guy. She was just as needy as they were, but for Guy’s attention—personal and prolonged.

  ‘Go,’ he said again softly, dipping his head to urge her across. Their eyes met and locked, like a beam that pulled her towards him rather than away. Seeing her hesitate, he ran one hand lightly down her arm and then up again, keeping hold of her. ‘Let’s check them together,’ he suggested.

  Moving slowly down the line, they checked each pot in turn. ‘They don’t need watering, do they?’ Guy said, drawing her round in front of him.

  ‘I don’t understand—’

  ‘Like I said,’ he whispered against her mouth, ‘Mother was young once too.’

  It must be a dream, Kate thought as she walked into Guy’s private suite of rooms through tall, arched doors. She had never visited this part of the château before, and in contrast to the more public areas it seemed almost Spartan by comparison—yet typically Guy, she thought, gazing around. She saw at once that he’d gone for clean lines, strong shapes and a high degree of comfort. But as he closed the double doors behind them she suddenly felt shy, like a young girl on a first date.