He snapped his fingers. “Good point. Yes. I’ll go in now and you come in after me and make some excuse about the weather or something delaying you.”
“Right.”
He caught her by the wrist and looked deep into her eyes. “Are you sure you want to go through with this?”
She nodded solemnly. “I do.”
The words hung before her in the air for several minutes after he’d gone.
Chapter Three
She waited for a tortuous five minutes before going through the dining room to the table where Trey and his father sat.
Trey stood as soon as she approached the table. “Sweetheart,” he said, drawing her hand up to his chest to turn her toward him.
Her pulse pounded madly, right to her fingertips. She was sure he could feel it.
He put his other hand on her hip and gave a half-smile. “Sorry, but we have to make this look good,” he whispered into her ear.
Before she could ask what he meant, he pulled her against him and lowered his mouth onto hers, muffling her startled exclamation.
“Make it look real,” he murmured against her mouth. His aftershave mingled with their warm breath. Jane breathed it in like life-giving oxygen, and surrendered to the thrill of his kiss. Blood pounded and coursed through her veins with the rocket power of adrenaline.
Trey trailed his hand down to the small of her back, drawing her closer to him for just a moment. In reality, the kiss lasted no more than a few seconds, but to Jane it was a tingling eternity.
He pulled back and gave her a devastating smile, his hand still resting casually on the small of her back. “I’m so glad you made it,” he said, in a normal conversational tone.
“Me too,” she gasped, eyes wide. She blinked. “You have lipstick—”
“Where?” He swiped at the wrong place.
“No, just—there.” He stood while she reached out and smudged the dusty-rose off his lips. When her thumb touched the corner of his mouth she had to force herself not to linger. Instead, she pulled her hand back, too quickly. He seemed to notice.
“Gone?” he asked, a little bemused.
“Yes.”
He smiled easily and turned with her. His hand burned a patch of heat into the small of her back then trailed off as he stepped aside as if to showcase her.
“Dad, this is my fiancée…Jane Miller.” His voice actually rang with pride. He was a better actor than she thought. “Jane, my father.”
The elder Breckenridge stood and gave a half bow. He had a thick mop of gray hair and the same strong jaw and straight nose as his son. His eyes were blue and clear. “Lovely to meet you, my dear. I’ve waited a long time for this.” He continued to stand as Trey pulled the chair out for Jane.
I know what you mean, she thought. She was surprised to hear her own voice sounding calm. “I have too. Trey has told me so much about you.” She paused and realized that her pounding heart seemed to have pounded some confidence into her. “How are you enjoying life in the south of France?”
His expression broke into pure pleasure. “Delightful. Wish I’d made the move years ago. I have a small, stone farmhouse, several dogs, goats, and all the peace and quiet I could ever want.”
“It sounds heavenly.”
“It is. I’ve been trying to get Trey to come and visit but he’s always so busy.”
She nodded and tried to deflect the criticism from Trey. “Do you play boule?” She’d seen them playing the French version of Italian bocce ball on television and thought it looked like fun.
Terrence Breckenridge’s eyes widened. “As a matter of fact, I’m second in the village. There’s one old-timer there who just cannot be beaten, though the Lord knows I’ve tried.” He gave a laugh. “Do you play?”
She shook her head. “But I’d like to give it a try someday.”
“I know just the place, and just the man to take you there.” He winked at Trey then said to Jane, “Enough about me, I want to know all about you. My son has been very secretive.” He gave Trey a pointed look.
Jane took a quick breath. “What would you like to know?” This was where the improvisation was going to begin. She said a silent prayer that she would manage without bungling everything for Trey.
“How did the two of you meet?”
She felt Trey’s eyes on her and spoke carefully. “At work. We’ve known each other for several years but we only recently…recently discovered—”
“That we’re in love,” Trey finished, laying his hand on top of hers. He must have noticed it trembling because he asked, under his breath, “You okay?”
Jane could barely breathe. “Fine,” she whispered back.
“Just realized it, eh?” Terrence asked Jane with raised brows. His expression was unreadable, but in exactly the way that Trey’s expression often was.
She swallowed and gathered her nerve. “Sometimes when you work with someone for a long time you don’t realize where business ends and personal feelings begin.” She looked at Trey, sending signals with her eyes and with her heart that she knew he wasn’t picking up on.
“Yes,” Trey said, as if he’d given it some thought, which she was sure he hadn’t. “Sometimes you need the proverbial bolt of lightning to wake you up.”
Jane looked at him incredulously.
“Indeed that’s true. I’ve seen it more than once in my lifetime,” the older man said, taking the wine list from the waiter. He perused it for only a moment, then ordered. When the waiter left, he turned his attention back to Jane and Trey. “I had no idea the two of you had worked together.”
“Yes.” Trey cleared his throat. “Jane is actually my administrative assistant.” He nodded, in a sort of marionette-like fashion, but didn’t add anything to it.
Jane thought she’d never seen him so nervous. “You know how your son is, always burning the midnight oil to get things done. We’ve spent a lot of time working together in close quarters.” She drew a tremulous breath. “I guess it was just inevitable that this would happen.”
“Bah!” Terrence picked up a roll and slathered it with butter. “You could work together for years and never feel a spark, no matter how close the quarters. It’s only inevitable when it’s right. And I can tell just from looking at the two of you that it’s right.”
Jane smiled, uncomfortably aware of Trey next to her. “It seems to be,” she hedged. You could work together for years and never feel a spark. His words stung with the truth.
The wine
