same roof with Alex Martin for the next three weeks was so thrilling, she was ready to jump out of her skin.
But she did have to think about it for all the usual reasons of propriety, common sense and self-preservation—self-preservation especially because he could be moody and overbearing like her father, the very thing she’d wanted to get away from for a while.
And then there were the unusual reasons, like the fact that her father was coming here to direct the most important film of his career on her say-so alone. If she made a misstep with Alex now and he decided to renege on the contract, how would she explain it to her dad, let alone the rest of the company?
Money had changed hands. Too much was at stake on both men’s parts for there to be trouble at this stage because of her.
When she’d declared that she wanted to be an independent woman and spread her own wings, she’d set herself up to be taken at her word and Alex had acted on it. He was probably laughing at her naïveté right now while he waited to hear that she’d changed her mind and didn’t want to stay here after all.
The stakes were too high for her to turn this into a battle. An inner voice warned her there was wisdom in going along with him. Dana knew nothing like this would ever come her way again. Why not take him up on it? She wouldn’t be human if she didn’t avail herself of such an opportunity.
“Thank you, Alex. I’ll do my best not to get underfoot.” From now on she could fade into the shadows and be like Diane de Poitiers, Henri II’s mistress at Chenonceau, who adored the château and oversaw the plantings of the flower and vegetable gardens.
Dana would glut herself on the history of Belles Fleurs, but wherever she slept, she would make certain it wasn’t anywhere near Alex. When she’d called his château small, she’d meant it hadn’t been built on the scale of Chambord with its 440 rooms, but it was big enough for her to get lost in.
An odd gleam in his dark eyes was the only sign that her answer had surprised him. “With that settled, shall we go upstairs? You can have your pick of any room on the second floor.”
By tacit agreement they both started toward the magnificent staircase. “How many are there?”
“Six.”
While she was wondering where his room was located, he read her mind. “For the time being I’ve made the petit salon off the main foyer into a combined bedroom and office for me.”
They’d be a floor apart. That was good. Of course when she wanted to go out for any reason, he’d be aware of her leaving through the front door, that is if and when he was around. After a few days of becoming aware of his routine, she’d make sure not to disturb him any more than she could help.
When they reached the long vestibule, she was overwhelmed by what she saw. “This is similar to the rib-vaulting at Chenonceau! It’s utterly incredible!”
Alex nodded. “On a much smaller scale of course.” She was conscious of his tall, hard-muscled frame as he continued walking to one end of the corridor on those long, powerful legs. “Let’s start with the bedroom in the turret round.”
“Oh—” she cried the second he opened the door and she took everything in. “This is the one I want!”
A smile broke the corner of his sensuous mouth. “You’re sure? You haven’t seen the others yet. The turret round on the other end has a fireplace.”
“I’m positive. Look at these!” There were fleur-de-lis designs placed at random in the inlaid wood flooring. She got down on her knees to examine them.
“If the original designer of this château could see a modern-day woman like you studying his intricate workmanship this closely, he would be delighted by the sight.”
“Go ahead and mock me,” she said with a laugh before getting to her feet. For the next few minutes she threw her head back to study the cross-beamed ceiling. There were little white enamel ovals rimmed in gold placed every so often in the wood depicting flowers and various forest creatures. “How did they do that? How did they do any of this?”
She darted to the window that needed washing inside and out, but at least it wasn’t broken. The entire room would require a good scrubbing to get rid of layers of accumulated dust. Even so there was a fabulous view of the countryside and a certain enchanted feel about the room. Eventually she turned to him. “Do you think this might have been your mother’s?”
Her question seemed to make him more pensive and probably brought him pain. She wished she’d caught herself before blurting it out.
“My mother lived here until her early twenties. I have no idea which bedroom she occupied, but it wouldn’t surprise me if it had been this one. The view of the Layon from the window at this angle is surreal.”
“I noticed,” Dana murmured. “I’m glad she met your father so she wasn’t so lonely anymore.”
Alex shifted his weight. “Lonely is an interesting choice of words.”
“She would have been, wouldn’t she? To know her father preferred her brother?”
“I’m sure you’re right,” he muttered. “Mother often seemed melancholy, at least that’s what I called it, but you’ve hit on a better description. Even in a crowded room she sometimes gave off a feeling of loneliness that no doubt troubled my father, too.”
“Forgive me for saying anything, Alex. It’s none of my business. It must be the atmosphere here getting to me.”
“You are your father’s daughter after all, so it’s understandable.” She didn’t detect anything more than slight amusement in his tone, thank heaven.
“If you’ll tell me where to find some cleaning supplies, I’ll get started in here before I bring up my sleeping bag.”
He tilted his dark head. “I have a better idea. We’ll drive into Angers in my truck and eat lunch. I need to pick up some items. While we’re there, we’ll get you a new mattress and box springs.”
“You don’t need to do that.”
“I wouldn’t allow you to stay here in a sleeping bag. After we come back, we’ll clean the room together and I’ll bring down a few pieces of furniture from storage. By sunset Rapunzel will be safely ensconced in her tower.”
She chuckled to hide her excitement at spending the day with him, not to mention the rest of the month. “You’re mixing up your fairy tales. I don’t have long hair.”
He gave an elegant shrug of his broad shoulders. “It’s evident you haven’t read the definitive version. Her father had her long golden tresses cut off so no prince could climb up to her.”
A few succinct words dropped her dead in her tracks. In the tale Dana had grown up with, there’d been a wicked witch. Was he still teasing her, or had this tale suddenly taken on a life of its own. “Then how did the prince reach her?”
He paused in the doorway. “I guess you’ll have to read the end of the story to find out.”
His cryptic explanation was no help.
“I’ll bring the truck around. When you’ve
