trembling from her experience in the kitchen, she pulled up a chair next to him and put a hand on his arm, willing her heart to stop slamming against her ribs.
Whether in the Duc’s employ or not, the stranger had crossed a line tonight with his primitive behavior. To manhandle a woman the way he’d just done was grounds for dismissal and a lot worse if Andrea had anything to say about it.
Without upsetting Geoff, she would learn what she could about the other man from Henri. He would know what should be done and would be discreet in handling the situation so she wasn’t bothered further.
“Geoff? It’s Andrea.”
His eyes opened. They had more life than before. He really was improving. Nothing could have pleased her more.
“You sound out of breath, ma chérie.“
Under the circumstances a little white lie wouldn’t hurt. “I just returned to the château and wanted to see you first.”
“I’m glad you’re here.” He patted her hand. “I have the most wonderful news.”
“The doctor must have told you you’re on the mend at last!” she interjected.
“It’s a fact I’m feeling better, but this is something else. My son has come home for good. I couldn’t speak about him or his work before tonight because it was classified. But now I can tell you. For the last ten years he’s been serving in various regions of the world as part of our military’s elite force.”
A slight gasp escaped her throat. With those words Andrea realized she’d already met his only offspring. No wonder he’d appeared in the kitchen as if he owned the place. It explained his presence on the grounds.
Wasn’t France’s elite force even more deadly than its special forces?
The moment he’d emerged so noiselessly from the pines, she’d sensed the difference about him. She had living proof he was even better trained and more dangerous than she’d first supposed.
His uncivilized behavior downstairs appeared to be the result of too much time spent doing unspeakable things for far too long.
“Earlier tonight while I was wondering when I would see him again, and hopefully in one piece, he appeared in my room and told me he’d performed his final service for the country. It’s over. Grâce à Dieu. Now he and Corinne can be married.”
“Corinne?”
“The daughter of my second wife.”
Andrea blinked. She supposed some stepbrothers and sisters did marry, but she couldn’t imagine it.
“Corinne’s had her eye on my son from the beginning. Now that he’s retired from the service, I’m going to get the grandchildren I’ve been waiting for. She’ll be home from her latest trip any day now.”
Would marriage be able to tame a man as out of control as his son? Andrea doubted it.
“I’m so happy for you,” she said before getting to her feet, unable to sit there calmly while she digested all the revelations of this night. If Geoff could have seen her being thoroughly kissed against her will by his only offspring, he’d be horrified.
“I want the two of you to meet.”
“We already have, Papa,” sounded an irascible voice that could only have come from one man. He’d just entered the bedroom. Andrea tried to smother her cry of surprise. “I discovered her by the lac.“
“Then you probably know how much this poor child has suffered, Lance.”
Lance was his real name?
Lancelot Du Lac?
“I’m afraid we didn’t do much talking,” Andrea broke in, not wanting to think about what had gone on during both private confrontations. Worse, she didn’t want Geoff hurt. Like any father, he had great hopes for his son’s future. Andrea had no desire to do anything that could bring him sadness.
“It’s obvious he’s anxious to spend time with you. Since you both have so much catching up to do, I’ll say good-night and visit you tomorrow.”
“Do you promise?”
“Of course. Keep getting better now.”
She squeezed his arm, then darted away feeling a pair of accusing blue eyes leveled on her back. As she raced to the door they seemed to say, “You can keep running from me, but I know what you’re up to. Be warned I’ll drive you out.”
By the time Andrea reached the safety of her bedroom, she’d made up her mind that tonight would be the last time she slept in this château.
Not because of Lance Du Lac’s treatment of her, which was unconscionable. Not even because of his faulty assumption that she had designs on his father. An extraordinary man like the Duc probably drew the interest of many women. One or two unscrupulous types might even be after his money and title. Naturally his son would be protective of him. But that wasn’t it.
Her need to leave stemmed from guilt.
She pulled the suitcase from the wardrobe and started to pack. In the morning she would slip down to Geoff’s room to thank him for everything and say goodbye. It was for the best.
To have become physically aware of his world-weary son—a cynical man scarred in both a physical and figurative sense from experiences she didn’t want to know about, a man who’d chosen to live life on the edge on purpose, and had probably left a trail of willing women around the globe before coming home to marry, seemed a total betrayal of Richard’s memory.
He’d barely been gone three months, yet twice this evening she’d found herself unwillingly attracted to a stranger who’d shown her nothing but primitive behavior.
She could still feel his hands on her body, could still feel his mouth devouring hers. All of it a violation, though she couldn’t say he’d hurt her. It was the brazen unexpectedness of his action that had surprised her.
And of course her involuntary response to his male appeal … That was the part that was so unforgivable.
When she’d first met her dark blond husband, she’d been working at a photography studio. She’d found it flattering that a university professor would be interested in her artwork suggestions for the current book he was writing.
He’d allowed her to see into his world. She’d been a good listener, eager to assist him any way she could. Not having had a college education herself, Andrea had put him on a pedestal, admiring the poet within. Their association had led to marriage. He’d been a gentle lover.
To fill the emptiness left by his death, she’d come back to France to finish up the artwork for his latest book. Work was all she knew. So what could explain her reaction to a forbidding ex-military man, the antithesis of Richard?
Maybe it was a case of the hormone therapy regimen she was on being out of whack.
What if all the clichés about a widow’s needs were true? If so, how embarrassing. How appalling!
The
