The Vintner and The Vixen

Chapter 12

Jacques paced in his room, shoving a hand through his hair. His grandfather had played the trump card and Maya had folded like an amateur. Grand-Papa had never hinted that he wanted to resurrect the harvest festival before. It must be a scheme to keep Maya near and part of the family. Worse, Jacques couldn't deny the thrill that raced through his veins at the thought. Twenty-nine days. He'd have to negotiate an extension for the time he was away.

He had no control where Maya was concerned. It was as terrifying as it was liberating.

Maya came through the connecting bathroom door, still fully dressed. She even had her shoes on. Not staying, then. Damn. She'd gotten all defensive at the lake when he mentioned her traveling with him. Had she sensed that his desire for her to go with him was about more than just sex, that he enjoyed their banter and the way she made him feel alive for the first time in years?

"We need to talk." Dieu, not that.

"Would you like a cognac?"

"No thanks, but go ahead if you want one. What are we going to do about your grandfather?"

"My grandfather?" She wasn't here to tell him last night had been a mistake and she was repealing the revised truce agreement? He poured himself and drink and took a quick swig.

"Yes, I think he's fixated on getting us together. You know him best. Should we play along and pretend to fall in love? Give him some peace for a while? Or should I pack my things and move back to the cottage so he knows this is going nowhere?"

"It's too hot to sleep at the cottage." His brain had ceased functioning at the thought of Maya leaving so soon. There was still a plethora of things he wanted to do with her.

"I can survive. Besides, I like it hot." She shrugged as if it made no difference to her.

He put his glass down, walked over to her, and stared into her mesmerizing eyes. Who needed cognac when you could drown in her gaze? "Don't think about my grandfather. Don't think about me. What do you want, Maya?" If she stayed, it had to be because she wanted to. Anything else was cheating. Although his body would argue otherwise.

She took a deep breath then leaned over and removed her shoes, tossing them under the table where they'd had breakfast that morning. "I want to stay."

His breath whooshed out on an audible sigh. "I was hoping you'd say that."

"And I want to stay here. In this room. With you. Do you have a problem with that?"

He reached out and caressed her cheek. His hand slid into her hair, drawing her closer. "I was hoping you'd say that, too."

"And seeing as there's so much room, I thought Princess could join us." The sentence ended with his lips on hers.

He nibbled his way across to her ear. "No way. There are things I want to do to you that Princess might misunderstand. When you scream my name in pleasure, I don't want your dog to get the wrong idea and attack me."

She leaned back and stared into his eyes. "Intriguing. But I don't do bondage. Once you've been handcuffed and tossed into the back of a cop car, the titillation goes out of the whole being restrained thing."

"I'm not into that either. I prefer full partner participation."

"Then I think we have a deal. Will you help me out of my dress?"

"It will be my pleasure."

"Our pleasure," she said as she spun around, presenting her back to him.