At the Chateau for Christmas. Rebecca WintersЧитать онлайн книгу.
couldn’t stop me. We had a fight.”
“You mean she tried to?”
“Yes, but I refused to listen. I told Mother she was inhuman to be upset with me now that Irene was dead. I wish I hadn’t said it, but I did. Now I have another regret to live with.”
There’d been unpleasantness with Adam, too. The man she’d been seeing over the last few months hadn’t wanted her to leave without him. He was getting much too serious. This unexpected trip would give her a needed break from him over the holidays.
His aggression had made her uncomfortable. Maybe her mom had been right—she’d hinted that Adam was ambitious and wanted more than her love. After the way he’d reacted before she’d flown here, Laura had begun to fear the same thing, considering a fortune lay behind her name. Because of the painful history that had beset the Holden family, she had major trust issues. Laura wasn’t sure she wanted to be with him anymore.
“Family loyalty has its price,” Nic murmured, sounding distanced. “You’d be surprised how many times in the past I had to stop myself from phoning to demand you come and visit your grandmother. She loved you a great deal, but my grandfather wouldn’t have approved, so I didn’t act on my instincts. He always hoped you’d come on your own.”
His admission tugged at her heart. “No matter how much I love my mother, I should have followed my instincts, too. Now it’s too late.” She moaned the words. “Sometimes family loyalty demands too much, in this case more than I can bear—”
At this point she had the impression he didn’t know if he could believe anything she said. That was trouble with a tragedy that had torn families apart. She didn’t know if she could believe anything he said, either, but she was here now. For the sake of the grandmother she’d always loved in her heart, she wanted some answers.
Laura got out of his car before he could help her. The best thing she could do was avoid getting too close so they couldn’t possibly touch. Despite his poor opinion of her, she was afraid her attraction to him wasn’t going to go away. It was madness that she felt this awareness of him. He was a married man, for heaven’s sake!
Nic reached for her suitcase and walked her to the entrance. The minute he opened the door to the foyer, a large manger scene placed on the credenza greeted her vision. Moving on into the living room, it felt as though she’d stepped into a painting by Matisse, her favorite Impressionist.
The interior reminded her of his work The Black Table. Wonderful dark flooring and beams set a backdrop for flowers, blue-and-white-colored prints, priceless ceramics and paintings. Beyond the French doors was a view of the sea dotted with sailboats, even though it was winter.
She wheeled around. “Your home is wonderful!” The compliment flew out of her mouth without conscious thought.
“Thank you.” He lowered her suitcase. The man had a brooding sophistication he didn’t seem to be aware of. “If you’d like to freshen up, there’s a bathroom off the guest bedroom on your left at the end of the hall.”
“Thank you.”
“Are you hungry? Thirsty?”
“I ate before I got off the plane, but maybe some coffee?”
“I’ll ask my housekeeper to prepare it and take your bag to your room.”
He was giving her the opportunity to compose herself. Nic had his emotions well under control—unlike Laura—and seemed to sense instinctively what she needed. The consummate host.
On her way back to the living room, she stopped to look at the photographs hanging in the hallway. One of the groupings caught her interest. The French-looking brunette in the photos had to be his wife. She was a cute little thing with stylish short hair. They were laughing together.
Laura couldn’t imagine feeling that happy and carefree. It depressed her that she’d never had a relationship like that. The more she thought about it, the more she knew she would have to end it with Adam. They didn’t bring out the best in each other. Look at the way Nic and his wife glowed in the photograph. You could feel their happiness.
Upset by her thoughts, she returned to the front room and found a tray of coffee and variety of cookies waiting for her. Nic was on the phone speaking his native tongue and stood behind one of the two sofas facing each other. Separating them was a tiled coffee table with a large copper tub filled with fresh-cut blue and red anemones.
While she waited for him, Laura wandered over to the doors. In the twilight, the terraced garden below the villa had taken on a surreal beauty.
“When your grandmother came to visit, she used to stand right there with that same expression on her face. She had several interests, especially gardening. Do you also have a green thumb, as you Americans say?”
He was good at making small talk. She needed to try, too. “I don’t know.” Laura had been studious in her growing-up years so she could go into her grandfather’s hotel business. It had been a man’s world then. Still was, in many ways. She had to work hard to make her mark, and spent a lot of time in the office. That’s where she’d met Adam, who was determined to rise to the top echelons of the company. They had that in common.
This trip to France hadn’t been on her agenda, but she’d seized at the opportunity to learn more about her grandmother. Laura had put her assistant in charge while she was gone, satisfied he could handle things for the few days she’d intended to be away.
She turned in Nic’s direction, bursting with questions. He was silent on several subjects, including his wife, but she needed to remember his personal life was his own. She felt his distrust, no doubt as great as her own. They were walking through a minefield, but especially after her rudeness to him in San Francisco, she had no right to expect information that was none of her business.
“Was that your grandfather on the phone?”
He nodded. “Maurice is coming now.”
LAURA SWALLOWED HARD. The man she’d been taught to hate would be here soon. What was the real truth about him and his affair with her grandmother? No one was all black or white. The muscles in her stomach started to clench with anxiety.
“The château in La Colle is only ten minutes away. Please help yourself to coffee while we wait.”
She sat across from Nic and sipped hers. “The word château conjures up images. Does it look like one of the Châteaux de La Loire?”
Nic eyed her over the rim of his cup with a bemused expression. “Would you believe me if I told you that when Maurice took her there for the first time, Irene thought he’d brought her to the château where Cinderella was born?”
This was the first time the man had allowed her to see behind that facade of suspicion. Laura couldn’t help but smile. “You made that up.”
He sat forward to reach for a cookie. One black brow lifted. “Ask my grandfather.” In the next breath he got up from the couch and walked into hall. When he returned, he handed her a five-by-seven photo in an antique frame, one she’d seen hanging among the others. “This is what the estate looks like. Hopefully it will satisfy your curiosity.”
With this picture he’d just extended an olive branch of sorts. Even if he wished his grandfather hadn’t put him in this position, she would take him up on it in order to uncover the truth. Nic had actually brought her to his home. She couldn’t have imagined it when they’d first met in California.
“Maurice said Irene lived for the day when you would come to visit and she would take you through it room by room, because you loved castles and princesses.”
“That’s true. I can’t believe she remembered that.”
He studied her for a moment, as if weighing her words. “Apparently