bother. I’ll be fine,’ Kate said, knowing what she really needed was a clean break with the château. Her body told her that anything other than the most limited contact with Guy, Count of Villeneuve was going to lead to complications she would never be ready to handle.
‘Nonsense!’ he said, springing up before she could think of any more excuses. ‘I’m going to take you back there now and find out exactly what you need.’
THE drive back to the cottage took just a few minutes in one of the estate’s four-wheel drive vehicles, but it was a few moments more before Kate could bring herself to check out the damage.
‘Come on,’ Guy urged impatiently, slamming his door. Flinging her door open, he stood there waiting. Only then did Kate’s mind click into gear. He’d been up half the night on her behalf and he was sure to have other things to do. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, making light of her shock at seeing the smoke-blackened exterior. ‘I was just steeling myself.’
As soon as he was sure she was following, Guy strode briskly up the path. ‘I wouldn’t have brought you up here if the cottage was burned beyond redemption,’ he called over his shoulder. Reaching the front door, he pushed it open. The first thing that hit Kate was the smell, a dank, rancid stench that caught in the back of her throat as she adjusted her eyes to the gloom.
‘Look, it’s not too bad,’ Guy said as he forced the door across a heap of something damp that squelched as they walked over it. ‘And we’ve had the “all clear” from the fire service and… What?’ he said when she made a small wounded sound.
Maybe it didn’t look too bad to him, but as far as Kate was concerned it was the end of an era and there wasn’t even time to mourn. And with the deadline she had to meet the devastation inside the cottage was nothing short of a total disaster.
The flimsier objects as well as the soft furnishings had been utterly consumed, and the heavy cupboard doors as well as the beautiful oak table and rustic-style benches appeared scorched beyond redemption; the wood charred to dust in some places. But it was far more than the loss of a deadline Kate saw as she looked around. It was the loss of a very important part of her life. Shattered ornaments lay scattered about the floor, and there was no sign at all of the photograph albums she had been studying amongst the stinking wet debris. Of the two old carver chairs, one slumped miserably on three legs instead of four and the ceiling had fallen down in the far corner of the room, exposing the rafters above, though they seemed unharmed, Kate saw thankfully. But the white walls had been transformed into an ugly mishmash of yellows and browns shaded with banners of soot. A groan escaped her as she forced herself to turn full circle.
‘Arrêtes!’ Guy insisted, taking her upper arms in a strong grip as if to shake some sense into her. ‘There’s nothing here that my men can’t repair. It’s all superficial.’
As his touch ripped through her, she burst out, ‘Superficial!’ Kate shook her head incredulously. ‘I can’t believe you just said that, Guy de Villeneuve. You’re such a man!’
‘I certainly hope so—’
As their eyes met, the furious look she flashed at him ricocheted back on her senses. ‘Only a man could look at a home reduced to a cinder and insist that the damage is superficial,’ she said, shifting the heat into her accusation.
‘But it is,’ Guy insisted. ‘The structure’s sound.’
‘But everything’s lost!’
‘Ah,’ he murmured, releasing her to slip his hand into his pocket. ‘Not quite everything.’
‘My locket!’ Kate gasped.
‘The men brought it to me this morning,’ he revealed, holding it so that the chain was wrapped around his wrist and the locket swung free in front of her face.
But Kate’s mind was still over-loaded with emotion and for a few seconds she couldn’t think straight.
‘Aren’t you going to say thank you?’ Guy said as he took hold of her arms.
‘You kept it from me,’ Kate said irrationally, trying to pull away.
Guy’s voice was low and intense as he stared into her eyes to deliver the correction. ‘I chose my moment to give it to you. Didn’t you think I would know how distressed you would be when you saw this—?’ He gave a brief glance around. ‘I wanted the recovery of the locket to put this calamity in perspective…make it seem what it is—superficial.’
‘OK,’ Kate mumbled, facing away as she struggled to untangle the jangling impressions in her head.
‘That’s not good enough,’ Guy insisted, cupping her chin in his hand and bringing her round to face him again. ‘And I’m still waiting,’ he said, directing his words at eyes tightly shut.
‘For?’ Risking a glance at his face, Kate instantly wished she hadn’t.
‘For you to say thank you,’ Guy murmured in a voice that made her breathing seem noisy by comparison.
Their frozen tableau of clean, neatly pressed normality should have formed an oasis amidst all the devastation, but Kate felt as if she was standing at the gateway of another world…a world she wasn’t sure she should enter. It hadn’t always been easy standing on the outside looking in, but it was safe.
Silence wound around them like a shield, protecting her against the reality that would have to be faced some time, but not yet, whilst ribbons of sunlight slipped through the damaged shutters to light up their faces. ‘Thank you,’ she murmured, dipping her head with relief that it had been safely said.
But as Guy released the chain into her hand he slipped a hand either side of her face. ‘Better now?’ he murmured. And this time there was no escape from his eyes. As Kate looked into them she knew that if this was another of his games it was one she hadn’t played before. Her heart stopped as she saw his intention reflected in his fast darkening stare and in the curve of his sensuous mouth. But then he let her go and stood back as if to show that she was free to move, free to pretend the moment had never happened.
Then of its own accord her body inclined towards him and his mouth brushed hers with the lightest touch—a reassurance maybe, support in a difficult moment, a gesture of friendship. She didn’t mean to sigh her encouragement, to move closer until his tongue teased the seam of her mouth, parting her lips, tasting, touching and exploring in the lightest most leisurely dance of retreat and advance. Her breathing raced as she felt her lips swell in response to the languorous teasing and the nip of his teeth. But he made no move to address the ache between her thighs and only went on tormenting her with the same unflinching control so that each time she tried to close the short distance between them he moved away, always denying her the firmer touch she craved.
‘Stop… Stop it now, Guy!’ She managed to force out at last as she stumbled away from him. ‘I don’t know what game you’re playing but whatever it is I’m not ready for it.’
‘Really?’ he murmured sardonically.
‘You know what I mean,’ she said, covering her mouth with the back of her hand, as if that was all it took to hide her arousal. But from the look on his face the moment had passed—she might even have imagined it to
