rubbed the back of his neck absently. “This requires some walking. Wear boots if you have them.”
“I don’t. Will trainers do?”
“Those will protect your feet better than your sandals.”
“We’re not going to be trekking through some snake-infested region are we? I have an irrational terror of them.”
A low chuckle rumbled out of him. “Few of the snakes in France are venomous. Even then their bites aren’t worse than wasp stings. So far I haven’t come across any.”
“That’s not exactly reassuring, Alex.”
“I’ve survived the snake worlds of Indonesia and Africa.”
“But you’re—”
“Yes?” he prodded after she broke off talking midsentence. She’d left him hanging, the perpetual state he’d been in since meeting her…and didn’t like.
“I was just going to say you’re invincible.”
“Not quite.” She’d been making inroads on his psyche from the moment they’d met, infiltrating his thoughts. No woman he’d known could claim that distinction. “For what it’s worth, I promise to protect you.”
“Thank you.”
He wanted to be with her now. “Are you sure you’re too tired for Scrabble? I brought the game with me from Bali. My father and I often played.”
“In how many languages?”
He couldn’t suppress his laughter. “Why don’t we find out?”
“Maybe another night when I’m not worn-out.”
“What’s your birthdate?” She’d be turning twenty-seven. That wasn’t a day he was bound to forget, not after his assumption that she’d been much younger.
“The sixteenth.”
“Next Monday. Don’t make any plans. We’ll celebrate and I’ll let you beat me.”
“I intend to.”
He grinned. “Where did you go today?”
“I don’t really know. I kept driving until I saw this park and a lake. There was a mother swan. She had three cygnets who followed her around, matching her exact movements like they had radar. I kept running around the lake, watching them. You’ve never seen anything so sweet or fascinating.”
Yes, he had…The picture he had in his mind of her made his whole body ache.
“No wonder you’re tired. If you’d rather make it nine o’clock—”
“I’ll probably be out there by seven-thirty before any of the crew arrives. I don’t like them knowing my business.”
Did that include her father? Alex had the strong hunch there’d been little communication between them by phone since she’d chosen to sleep at the château against his wishes.
“That’s understandable.”
“To be honest, I don’t see how you can stand to have your own privacy invaded by a ton of strangers wreaking havoc.”
He drew in a sharp breath. “It’s called money.”
“I know. Let’s hope word has spread throughout the film world and you’re flooded with new requests. Nothing would make me happier for you. Good night.” The definitive click cut off his lifeline.
While he locked up and turned out lights, it came to him Dana was a gift that might come along once in a millennium if you were lucky. Her father had to know that. Perhaps it was the reason he guarded his golden-haired offspring so jealously.
In a very short period of time Dana had brought out the possessive instinct in Alex. Evidently it had been lying dormant these many years just waiting to spring to life when or if the right person ever made an appearance.
For the rest of the night he was taunted by dreams of a certain blue-eyed wood nymph smiling at him through the foliage. If the handsaw and the basket hadn’t been in the way, the two of them might still be up there in a bed of leaves while he made love to her over and over again.
“SALUT, ma belle!”
She waved to Alex, who stood by the truck, dressed in thigh-molding jeans and another white T-shirt that revealed the outline of his cut physique. The sun brought out the black-brown vibrancy of his overly long hair, a style that suited him to perfection.
He’d seen her coming around the back in her white-washed jeans and T-shirt in her favorite mocha color. His eyes followed her progress with disturbing intensity, making her feel exposed.
“It’s such a beautiful morning I’m not going to ask if you’re fine because you couldn’t be anything else.” He was freshly shaven and the faint scent of the soap he’d used in the shower permeated the air around them.
“You’re right about that,” he murmured. She watched him pick up a pair of long-handled pruning shears. “Shall we be off?” There was a slight curve to his lips she’d only tasted for a brief moment the other night. Unfortunately it had set up a permanent hunger nothing but a much longer repeat of the experience would satisfy.
Dana nodded before following him down the path that bisected the orchard. Maybe she was crazy but she felt something crackling in the air between them, the kind of thing that sizzled during a lightning storm.
He kept walking until they reached the perimeter of the orchard. Juxtaposed was a forest of briars taller than they were. It reached to the river, filling the entire hillside and around the bend. She’d never seen the likes of such a thing before.
A gasp escaped her lips. “The only thing I can compare this to are the briars that overgrew Sleeping Beauty’s castle, but that was in a storybook.”
He slanted her a mysterious glance. “If you recall, it was a French fairy tale.” He folded his arms. “Behold the Belles Fleurs vineyard.”
“No—”
As she tried to take it all in, her eyes smarted. She turned her head so Alex wouldn’t see how it had affected her. Now she understood why he hadn’t wanted to talk about it.
“This is what happens after eighty years of neglect,” came his gravelly voice.
She shook her head. “When you drive here from Paris and see the rows of gorgeous green vineyards…to think they can look like this…” It was impossible to articulate her horror.
“Oh, Alex—for your family to let all of this die—it’s beyond my comprehension.” She wheeled around to face him. “How did you bear it when you saw this desecration?”
He
