Sofia gave her the briefest of smiles and then looked away.
As soon as Jacyn was within reach, he slid his arm around her waist and pulled her to him, holding onto her like she was a lifeline. She gave him a curious look, then glanced at Sofia. As if a spark of understanding had been ignited within her, she looped her arms around his neck and kissed him on the lips, saying clearly, “Alex! Did you come to have fun with us?” She took his hand and pressed it against her left breast. “Feel my heart, darling! I can’t remember the last time I ran that hard!”
He pressed his hand against her flesh, grateful not only for her bit of superb acting, but for the warmth of her chest and the thud of her heartbeat against his hand, anchoring him in reality.
Willa was insisting on being heard. “Maman, I scored a goal! Did you see?”
“Yes, yes, very nice,” Sofia mumbled, but she wasn’t looking in her daughter’s direction. Instead, she saw fit to respond to Jacyn’s show of intimacy with one of her own, pressing against William’s side and regarding the other couple—especially Alex—like a cat with cream smeared all over her whiskers.
“William,cher,”she began, looking up into her husband’s face with exaggerated adoration. He lifted his brows at her in response, and she continued. “Did you tell your brother about the charity gala at the end of the month? Non?Alors,Alex. The family will be hosting a gala to raise funds for the children of those lesser fortunate than ourselves, you understand.” She spoke directly to Alex, as if Jacyn didn’t exist. “It will be a grand affair and I hope you’ll being your cheque book.”
Not releasing Jacyn from his embrace, glad that she was there to shield him from arrows she didn’t even know were en route, he answered for both of them. “Jacyn and I would be delighted to attend with ourcheque book.”
CHAPTER 9
THE KNOCKING BEGAN SOFTLY, but soon rose in intensity. Groggy from sleep, Jacyn sat up in bed, wondering for a moment whether it might be a woodpecker at her window.
Silly, she thought. Were there even woodpeckers in France? She’d have to look that up.
The knock came again, and she knew for sure it was the door of her suite. The servants were never that insistent, so it could only be one person.
Alex.
Jacyn hurriedly wrapped herself in a gown, pulling it over the T-shirt and sweats she preferred to sleep in, rather than the sensuous, beribboned satin lingerie that her personal shopper had insisted she buy. “We women need to keep our men happy,” the strange live wire of a woman had announced, winking broadly at her and then at Alex, who had been very much present even while they were shopping for her underwear. The French were strangely unabashed when it came to these things, she had discovered.
Butshewasn’t. She wrapped the gown tight around her as if it was a protective cloak, and opened the door. He was dressed in dark jeans and a thick cable-knit sweater, with a leather jacket thrown over it. His black boots rose almost to the knee, and they were neatly polished, imposing, and masculine. Everything about him was relaxed, yet powerful.
Mmm,said a deeply buried part of her mind.Nice.
Shut up,said her more conscious self, the self that had to be obeyed if she was to survive two months of this farce intact.
“Oh, good. You’re up,” he announced, stepping into the room.
“Well, actually, I’m only up because you came banging on my door,” she answered tartly. “Do you have any idea what time it is?”
He decided to play the straight man, looking ostentatiously at his Patek Phillipe watch, which looked complex enough to track constellations, rather than simply let him know when the markets would be open in Japan. “It’s ten after six. That means you’re ten minutes late.”
“For what?”
“Get dressed and you’ll see.”
She had to wrestle with the instinct to resist on principle. This was her life for the next couple of months; she was at this man’s beck and call. In resignation, she said, “Fine. Dress how, exactly?”
He indicated his own body with an eloquent gesture. “Just as I am. Sweater, jeans, jacket, boots. And hurry; we’re burning daylight.”
“The daylight has barely begun,” she mumbled surlily to herself, but got dressed as he had instructed. She had to admit that the soft, thick sweater and the scent of her new, warm leather jacket made her feel luxuriously feminine. But far be it from her to let him know she was secretly excited about whatever he had in mind.
She fell into step with him as he led them out onto the grounds—to the rear of the château this time, rather than out front, where the elegantly manicured hedges and topiary graced the sprawling grounds. The dew-covered grass crunched under her boots as she walked. There was one thing to be said for boots: they always made you feel like a badass. There was a noticeable swagger to the way she walked. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Alex try to hide a smile.
They came upon a series of long, wooden structures, and the scent that emanated from inside let her know immediately what they were. Stables.
At the entrance, she balked. “You’re not thinking–.”
“I am.”
“I’m not gonna.”
“Yes, you are.”