The Vintner and The Vixen

Chapter 9

"You know Jacques is not going to like this," Maya said but handed the helmet to Charles anyway.

His blue eyes twinkled. "What Jacques doesn't know won't hurt him."

She fastened the strap under Charles's chin and then helped him mount her motorbike. They'd spent every morning together for the past two weeks, exploring the gardens or rooms in the chateau. Charles kept her amused with stories of past inhabitants, including the ancestor who had eight mistresses at one time and got so lost in the secret passages, he went missing for two days until he finally emerged in his wife's bedchamber. His neglected wife had been so incensed at her husband's philandering that she kept him tied to her bed until she was sure she was pregnant. After that, he'd dismissed his mistresses and never slept with anyone other than his wife again.

Was Charles hinting that she should tie Jacques to her bed until he got her pregnant? Not that she hadn't considered it once or twice, minus the pregnancy part. Every night they sat next to each other at the dinner table, both trying to ignore the chemistry between them. Their truce was lasting so far, and Jacques seemed determined to keep his hands off her. She should be happy.

She wasn't.

To mask her frustrated groan, she flicked the Ducati's engine to life. "I don't think your grandson would agree with you," she shouted over her shoulder. Charles's arms came around her waist, and she slowly drove them to the front gates and back to the chateau, Princess running beside them.

She hadn't been off the grounds since she'd moved up to the big house; the lure of the outside world beckoned but she was safer where she was. She'd called her brother Sean during one of her visits back to the cottage to water her plants and pick up some painting supplies. The cops hadn't bothered him again, so hopefully it had all blown over and they no longer needed her to testify. Maybe Etienne had turned snitch. She'd always sensed there was something different about her ex-boyfriend, like he had some secret agenda.

"I want to go to the winery," Charles said as she shut off the engine after returning to the front of the chateau.

"Um, okay. Will your cart make it that far? Or can we borrow one of Jacques's cars?"

Charles shook his head. "No, I want to go on the bike. There's a road through the estate; we don't have to go on the highway."

"Didn't Jacques say this morning at breakfast he was going to the winery today? Are you trying to get me in trouble?"

She'd been aware of Jacques watching them through the window in the home office whenever they strolled through the rose garden. And he hadn't returned to Paris as expected. Instead he'd announced he was going to work from the chateau for the rest of the summer. He clearly didn't trust her. At least he hadn't brought up her selling the land in the last week. Although the way he stared at her sometimes, it was as though he was fighting some kind of internal battle.

"Trouble is where the fun is," Charles replied.

Not her kind of trouble. "Your grandson doesn't think so."

"He's been buried by all the responsibility of this place. He hasn't been able to have fun in a long, long time. I think he's forgotten how. You could show him."

It wasn't the first time Charles had pushed her in Jacques's direction or tried to get her to empathize with him. "We're too different. I'm pretty sure what I think of as fun, Jacques won't appreciate."

Although what did she find enjoyable now? She hadn't missed going to clubs or parties at all. Her good times were hanging with Charles, working on her art in the afternoon, and spending her nights imagining all the wicked things she'd like to do to Jacques in the next room.