said eight o’clock tomorrow morning.’
‘Better make it midday,’ Xavier said. ‘I’m sure you’re tired after all your travelling.’
Her eyes narrowed with suspicion. ‘You don’t think I’m capable of getting up early, do you?’
‘I didn’t say that.’ Though he’d thought it. ‘Actually, it would suit me better, too. Here, we work to l’heure solaire.’
‘The time of the sun?’ Her translation was hesitant.
‘Sun time,’ he corrected. ‘Working on the vines in the middle of a summer day is the quickest way to get sunstroke. I do my admin in the hottest hours of the day and I work outside when it’s a little cooler. So—midday. My office, at the chateau. And I will provide lunch.’ He thought about kissing her goodbye on the cheek, just to unsettle her a little more—but then thought better of it. Given his body’s earlier reaction to her, there was just as good a chance that it’d unsettle him, too. Instead, he gave her a formal bow. ‘À demain, Mademoiselle Beauchamp.’
She nodded in acknowledgement. ‘À demain, Monsieur Lefèvre. Midday it is.’
Chapter Two
THE next morning, Allegra spent a while looking at the vineyard’s website and jotting down some ideas before setting out for the Lefèvre chateau. The building had barely changed in the years she’d been away; it was still grand and imposing, pale stone punctuated by tall, narrow windows with white shutters. She remembered the formal lawn in front of the chateau, though she didn’t remember there being lavender fields flanking the long driveway. And she was also fairly sure there hadn’t been a rose garden at the back—although she couldn’t see it when she got out of the car, the scent of roses was strong enough for her to guess that there was a mass of blooms somewhere behind the house.
Xavier’s wife’s idea, maybe?
Not that it was any of her concern. And she couldn’t exactly have asked Hortense without it seeming like fishing—which it wasn’t. Yes, Xavier Lefèvre was still the most attractive man Allegra had ever met. If it was possible, he’d got even better-looking with age. But, even if he wasn’t involved with anyone, she wasn’t interested. Wasn’t going to give him a second chance to stamp on her heart. This was strictly business.
She glanced at her watch. Two minutes to midday. Not so early that she’d seem desperate, but early enough to tell Xavier that she was professional and punctual. Good. She straightened her back and rang the doorbell.
She had to ring twice more before the door was opened abruptly by a young man with a shock of fair hair who looked annoyed that he’d been disturbed.
‘We’re not—’ he began with a scowl, then stopped and gave her a beaming smile. ‘Mon Dieu, c’est Allie Beauchamp! How long has it been? Bonjour, chérie. How are you?’ He leaned forward to kiss her cheek.
‘Bonjour, Guy. About ten years—and I’m fine, thanks.’ She smiled back. ‘It’s good to see you. How are you?’
‘Fine. It’s good to see you, too. Are you here on holiday?’ he asked.
‘Not exactly.’ She grimaced. ‘I’m your brother’s new business partner.’
Guy raised an eyebrow. ‘Hmm.’
‘Care to elaborate on that?’ she asked.
‘No. You know Xav.’
That was the point. She didn’t, any more.
‘At this time of day, he’ll be in his office,’ Guy said.
‘I know.’ Allegra shifted her weight to her other foot. ‘I, um, forgot to ask him whereabouts in the estate his office was.’
‘And he forgot to tell you.’ Guy rolled his eyes. ‘Typical Xav. I’ll take you over there.’
‘Are you going to be at the meeting?’
‘Is it about the vineyard?’
She nodded.
‘Then, no. The vineyard’s Xav’s department, not mine. I just laze about here at weekends, drink his wine and insult him.’ He gave her an unrepentant grin. ‘By the way, I’m sorry about Harry. He was a good man.’
Allegra had a huge lump in her throat. Guy was the first person in France who’d actually welcomed her warmly and used her old pet name. Maybe he remembered their childhood, when she’d persuaded Xav to include his little brother in their games. And he was the only one who hadn’t treated her as a pariah for missing Harry’s funeral. ‘I’m sorry, too.’
Guy led her round the side of the house to a courtyard, which she remembered had once been stables and a barn but had now been turned into an office block.
‘Thanks for bringing me over,’ Allegra said.
‘Pleasure.’ He smiled at her. ‘If you’re going to be around for a few days, come and have dinner with us.’
‘Us’ meaning him and Xavier? She knew he was only being polite. Xavier definitely wouldn’t second that invitation. ‘That would be lovely,’ she said, being equally polite.
‘See you later, then. À bientôt, Allie.’
She echoed his farewell, took a deep breath, and walked into the office block. Xavier’s door was wide open and she could see him working at his desk, making notes on something with a fountain pen. He looked deep in thought, with his left elbow resting on his desk and his forehead propped against his hand. His hair was tousled—obviously he’d been shoving his fingers through it—but today he was clean-shaven. The sleeves of his knitted cotton shirt were pushed up to his elbows, revealing strong forearms sprinkled with dark hair. Right at that moment, he looked approachable. Touchable. She had to dig her nails into her palms to stop herself doing something rash—like walking over to him, sliding her hand up his arm to get his attention, cupping his chin, and lowering her mouth to his, the way she once would have done.
For pity’s sake. He wasn’t her lover any more, the man she’d thought she’d marry one day. He was her business partner. And, even if he hadn’t been her business partner, she had no idea whether or not he was already committed elsewhere. That made him absolutely off limits.
She took a deep breath, then knocked on the door.
Xavier looked up at Allegra’s knock. She was clearly still in businesswoman mode, wearing another of those sharp suits. No way would she fit in here; at this time of year, everyone had to help out in the vines, maintaining the shoots and weeding under the vines. Next month would be pruning and then letting the grapes ripen, ready for harvest in late September. Among the vines, her business suit would be ripped to shreds, and those patent highheeled shoes were completely unsuitable for the fields.
She really had no idea, did she?
‘Thank you for coming,’ he said, rising politely from his desk. ‘Take a seat.’
She sat down, then handed him a gold box tied with a gold chiffon ribbon. ‘For you.’
Now
