Maya stared at Jacques's face while he examined her sketch. While he'd slept she'd become obsessed with the beauty of his features, relaxed of all the worries and responsibilities he carried around with him. That wasn't what concerned her, however. It was the look she'd put in his eyes. A look of love, of longing, of hope. That was how she wanted him to be. Not the bitter, resigned man who stood in her cottage, holding one of her best pieces of art in his hands.
"You've sketched me with my eyes open."
"Yes, I propped them open with toothpicks. You were so gone you didn't notice." She tried for a tease, but he wasn't having it this time. He waited. The only sound was Princess panting in the other room.
"Why have you drawn me like this?"
"Because that's the man you could be. If you could just let go of the past."
His gaze met hers and she read the warning loud and clear before he even spoke. "I can never be this man, Maya. If this is who you're waiting for, I'm sorry to disappoint you. My past made me who I am today. It can't be undone."
She opened her mouth to refute the statement but closed it again. You could lead a man to a mirror but you couldn't make him see.
"Let me tell you what I've learned about the past. If you don't come to terms with it, it will destroy your future. Do you know how many mornings I woke up over the past ten years wishing I'd made different choices in my life? Every single one of them. If I hadn't gotten involved with Raj or any of the others; if I'd studied harder in school, gone to university, got a degree, and a regular job... Know what? I didn't. I've had to become who I am today to survive. But I'm determined not to stay that way. I'm going to move on with my life. Make myself better. Do something worthy. Make up for my past mistakes. I promised Gran-Gran I would, and I won't let her down. You have a choice, too. You can continue to live your life in fear of more heartache. Or you can move on. It's entirely up to you. My advice? Don't rule happiness out of your future. Don't let Clarisse kill you, too."
He stared at her as if she'd just slapped him. Nothing like hitting the man recovering from a debilitating migraine over the head with some hard truths. A strategic retreat was needed.
"Let's eat," she said then turned on her heel and strode back into the kitchen, fussing with the salad until she was back in control.
When he sat opposite, however, it wasn't her emotions she was worried about revealing. A trickle of sweat dripped into the pool that had formed in her bra. And there was only so much moisture Victoria could keep secret.
"It's like an oven in here. You haven't got the heating on by mistake, have you?" he asked.
"No, of course not. But the whole front of the house, including my bedroom, is south facing. And the frothy white curtains don't keep out the heat. So by midday it gets warm."
"It's unbearable. How have you slept?"
"Mostly on the sofa. In the evening I open all the windows and doors, hoping to catch a cross breeze. By midnight it's usually cool enough to sleep downstairs anyway. At least it's cured me of sleeping in all morning. Although for some bizarre reason, my neighbor objects to me firing up a chain saw at five a.m."
Jacques opened his mouth, but it was his grandfather's voice she heard. "There you are. I've been looking for you all morning, Jacques. I guess next time I should try the cottage first." Charles appeared at the back door and tipped his hat in greeting.
As though he were caught somewhere he shouldn't be, Jacques jumped to his feet. "I came to stop the racket Maya was making and had to wait out a migraine," he replied.
"Okay, if that's the story you're going for." Charles chuckled, his blue eyes full of laughter.
That sounded like an opening for an argument. "Would you like to join us, Charles? We're having a late breakfast, or is it an early lunch?" She rose to grab another place setting, but in doing so wound up centimeters from Jacques. Now she and Jacques looked even guiltier.
"No, thank you. I've already eaten. I just came to reclaim my golf cart." He took his hat off and waved it in front of his face. "Mon Dieu, it's hot in here. I forgot this place doesn't have air-conditioning. I'm so sorry, Maya."
"It's okay. I spend most of my time outside anyway," she replied.
"Nonsense," Charles said. "Until the heat breaks you can stay up at the chateau. We have air-conditioning, at least in the bedrooms."
"The Heritage Society won't let you put in better windows, but you've got air-conditioning?"
Jacques did not look pleased at his grandfather's suggestion. "We didn't ask," he answered. "Most of the bedrooms have secret passages to them. Evidently when the house was constructed, my ancestors liked to have discreet access to their mistresses' bedchambers. We simply routed the air-conditioning ducts through these spaces."
"Clever. And is that all the passages are used for these days, air-conditioning? There's not a flurry of bed swapping every night?"
"With me, Daniel, and Grand-Papa the only residents? No way." Jacques moved towards his grandfather, who still looked at her expectantly.
Her resistance wasn't strong enough yet to sleep in the same building as Jacques.
"Thanks for the offer, but I'm fine here."
Charles wasn't even subtle in nudging Jacques. Maya hid a smile by pretending to drink her iced coffee. Big, important Jacques de Launay controlled by his elderly grandparent.
"You are most welcome to stay at the chateau, Maya. In fact, I insist," Jacques said.
"Is this your plan to prevent me from starting up the chainsaw again at the crack of dawn?"
"Of course not. Your comfort is my only consideration." Not even he could say that lie with a straight face.
Looked like she was moving up to the big house. Into the lair of the beast.
***
Damn Grand-Papa and his meddling. Now he had temptation under his roof. Worse, his grandfather had insisted Clarisse's old room was the only one suitable for their guest. Forty-two bedrooms and Maya was to have the one connected to Jacques's.
But arguing with his grandfather was about as useful as complaining to a rock about its shape. Jacques led Maya up the stairs and to the far end of a long corridor. He halted two doors from the end and sucked in a deep breath.
He opened the door and gestured for her to enter. Maybe she'd be so disgusted by the decor, she'd return to the cottage or insist on another room. Almost everything was in shades of pink, and there were ruffles on the bedspread. Ruffles. It looked like Barbie had thrown up. But at least it was cool. He couldn't have asked his worst enemy to sleep in the cottage in this heat. And as much as it galled him to admit it, Maya was no enemy. Inconvenient, unconventional, irrational, and possibly dangerous to his self-control, yes. But he'd bet money she never set out to hurt anyone deliberately.
He placed her bag on the bench at the end of the bed. "There's a closet through that door if you want to hang up anything. Or I can ask one of the staff to do it for you."
"I'm pretty sure I can manage to hang up the few things I've brought. What's through that door?" She pointed at another panel at the opposite side of the room, near the bed.
He strode over and opened it. "Washroom. I'll get some towels for you." He pulled out his phone and called the housekeeper, Marie, as Maya wandered around the room.
"My bedroom is through the connecting door in the washroom," he said after returning his phone to his pocket.
"Wait, what? You've put me in a room that connects to yours?" Maya's arms were crossed under her breasts, thrusting them up, but he forced his eyes to remain on her face.
"Is that a problem? There's a lock on the door if you're worried. Or you can choose one of the other rooms, and I'll ask the housekeeper to get it ready. Grand-Papa is downstairs. Daniel's room is down at the other end of the hall, but he's away at the moment, doing a photo shoot for some sponsor, I think." He turned away as he mentioned his younger brother so she couldn't see his expression.
"Do you think I want to be closer to Daniel?"
"Most women do." He shrugged.
She strode over to him and put her hand on his cheek, waiting until his gaze met hers. Dieu, did she have to touch him all the time? It was ... addictive. "I am not most women. Yes, your brother is good-looking and charming, but there is no attraction between us. Now, your grandfather on the other hand, that sparkle in his eyes..."
Jacques laughed. She never said what he expected.
"Speaking of my grandfather, please be careful with him. He's had his heart broken several times. Don't play with his affections."
She dropped her hand from his cheek and looked upset that he'd even suggest such a thing. "I wouldn't. Gran-Gran used to talk of him so much, I kind of feel like he's my grandfather, too. I will be as protective of him as you are."
He searched her eyes. She was such a mixture, all bad-girl, biker chick one minute, softhearted migraine-reliever the next. But she seemed genuine, and, at the moment, all he could see was honest caring. Either she was a masterful player or had hidden depths. With a blind leap of faith, he replied, "Okay, I'll see you later then. I have work to do. I should be recovered enough to see my computer screen now."
"Don't overdo it, Jacques. It's better to take a day off than lose a whole week. Why don't you come with Charles and me? Yesterday when he dropped off the wine he talked about a rose he and Gran-Gran planted. He's going to show it to me today. Plus, you'll be able to make sure I don't try and wheedle any more of your inheritance out of him."
And vixen Maya was back. "There's nothing left to take. He transferred it all to me years ago."
"See, you have nothing to worry about then." She grabbed a big, floppy, white hat and strode towards the door. "We'll be in the rose garden if your paranoia kicks up again." Before she left, she turned back and blew him a kiss.
He twirled his wedding ring on his finger in the middle of his late-wife's god-awful pink bedroom. He'd kept the ring on to remind himself not to put his happiness in the hands of another woman again. Except Maya was right: he was giving Clarisse power over his future. He had to rely on his judgment not to make the same mistake again. Judgment that was seriously compromised by Maya's nearness.
The maintenance invoice still sat on his desk. He'd forgotten to take it earlier in his haste to get Maya to stop making so much noise. He could give it to her now, force her to sell the land to him, and completely destroy this chain of attraction that got stronger every time he was with her. But given the care she'd shown him this morning and the obvious bond of affection between her and his grandfather, it seemed churlish. He pulled off his wedding band and put it in his pocket.
He'd wait and see whathappened. The land wasn't going anywhere.