The Vintner and The Vixen

Chapter 13

Maya surveyed the ballroom. The robin's egg-blue walls and cream trim worked well with the splashes of burgundy she'd chosen as an accent color. She'd scoured the chateau and replaced the gold-painted furniture with dark wood pieces and moved the mirrors so they bounced light rather than blinded. Two weeks from today the room would be full of people, only a handful of whom she knew, celebrating an event she'd never been a part of. But with Michelle's help, it was all coming together nicely.

They'd decided on a vintage theme for the ball, going back to the 1930s, before the war that had changed the family's fortunes. Maya still had no idea what she was going to wear to the formal party. Nothing in her wardrobe was suitable, but she didn't have the time or inclination to travel to Paris to go shopping. Hopefully, she'd be able to stay in the background and direct things from the sidelines. No one need even know she was there.

It was the lull before the storm. Everything was organized; all that remained was to fight the inevitable fires on the night. Right now her fingers itched to create. Organizing the festival had kept her so busy for the past two and a half weeks that she'd barely had time to miss Jacques.

What a lie.

She'd missed him every second. She'd checked her watch at least every thirty minutes to see how close she was to their nightly video conference call. And to add to her misery, she still slept in his bed. If you could call tossing and turning for hours sleeping.

Each morning she'd wake to coffee and a pain au chocolat on their breakfast table in the room. Jacques had said he'd left a standing order with Marie to bring it up for her.

"Aren't you worried I'll get fat?" she'd asked him.

"I don't care what you weigh," he'd replied with a typical Gallic shrug. "I just want you happy."

But she hadn't had time to get fat either. She'd been too active lifting dust covers and searching through attics and forgotten rooms. Had she been an antiques dealer, she would have had an orgasm at all the gorgeous, long-forgotten pieces she'd uncovered.

In her search of the house's furnishings to redecorate the rooms for the festival, she'd discovered an emerald-colored bedspread and had the housekeeper change it for the overly ruffled one in Clarisse's old room. The space was much less girly now, but for some reason Maya couldn't bring herself to sleep in the bed where Jacques had made love to his wife. Even if the sex had been disappointing, according to him.

See, here she was, thinking about him again. Damn, the man had invaded every part of her. She had to reclaim herself before she had nothing to go back to when, as he'd said, their lives no longer intersected. It was still all about the land for him. And for her? Well, she wasn't so sure what it was about anymore. Fun was morphing into more, and that was unsettling.

They were like two people waiting at the same station for trains in different directions. Eventually they'd part, but the key was to enjoy the time they did have as much as possible while still keeping their ultimate destinations in mind. Hers was supporting herself as an artist. And unless she got some pieces to show, that wasn't going to happen. The log at the back of the cottage couldn't carve itself.

She found Marie Dubois in the kitchen, fussing over Princess. At first Maya had felt guilty about abandoning her new pet with Jacques's staff. But Princess had been supremely happy and spoiled rotten. Would the dog even come back to the cottage with her now?

That was one worry she needn't have bothered with, as Princess raced ahead of her. She'd been back a few times since she'd moved up to the big house but mostly just to water her plants and check on things. She'd have to remember to get air-conditioning installed before next summer. If she were still here next summer. Her brother Sean hadn't heard anything more about the trial and she'd been too afraid to search the Internet for any information. So she was living in blissful ignorance. Or at least she would be blissful when Jacques returned.