Falling For Her French Tycoon (Escape To Provence Book 1) Read online

  Dominic could attest to that fact. “You did the honorable thing, Raoul. When I heard you two were expecting, I knew that was the only reason you would have married her, especially after telling me you were in love with Toinette. But what is it I still don’t know?”

  “I’m getting to that. Only the birth of little Celine helped me to go on. I loved our daughter and was devastated after she died. While I was at the hospital, I talked to the doctor and asked if her heart was the reason why she’d been born a month early. The doctor told me no. Celine had been a full-term baby.”

  A gasp came out of Dominic. “So the baby wasn’t yours.”

  Raoul stared straight at him. “No. If I hadn’t asked the doctor that question, Sabine would have kept that a secret for the rest of our lives. After coming home from Saint Tropez the other night, I decided it was time to tell her I was divorcing her, and I confronted her about the baby that wasn’t mine.”

  “How did that go?”

  “She admitted it. Her explanation was that she’d always wanted me, but turned to another man because I’d never proposed.”

  “Incroyable. Did the other man ever know?”

  “No,” he said in a solemn voice.

  “So you’ve been living with the pain of that lie ever since the funeral.”

  His cousin nodded. “Because you were in Paris, I didn’t want to burden you. Instead I got some professional advice and was warned to put off a divorce until Sabine had recovered enough from Celine’s death to deal with it.”

  A groan came out of Dominic. “How bad are things at this point?”

  “Bad. I’ve been served papers from Sabine’s attorney and have been talking with our attorney, Horace Millet.”

  “He’s the best. What is she demanding?”

  “Fifty million dollars in damages for lack of affection since she knew from the start I hadn’t been in love with her. That was her excuse for being with another man while she waited for a proposal from me. She claimed she’d wanted marriage to me all her adult life.” He sat back in the chair. “Well, she got it.”

  Dominic looked across at him. “You could countersue because of her lie.”

  “I could, but we’ve both been suffering over Celine’s death. There’s been too much grief as it is. I just want this period of my life over. Horace has drawn up papers declaring a legal separation. Since her attorney has indicated that Sabine is refusing to move out of the chateau until the divorce is final, I’m moving out. I’ve liquidated a few assets to keep functioning before Papa freezes my accounts. Both sets of parents are refusing to accept the divorce and are fighting it.”

  “Of course they are.” And Raoul was too full of integrity to expose Sabine’s lie to the family.

  “For now I’m planning to live at the Aurora Hotel in Vence until this is over. I’m checking in there after I leave you.”

  “No, you’re not. You’re staying with me. I have two extra bedrooms. Both families are trying to take everything away from you. That means I’m not letting you spend money on a hotel. You need to be close to the office.”

  “I can’t do that to you.”

  “Raoul, if I were in your shoes, I know you’d tell me to move in with you, so let’s not waste any more time talking about it. Come on. Follow me back to the chateau and let’s get you moved in. While we do that, I’ll fill you in on what’s happening with me. It’ll be fun. I’ve got more space in the apartment than I know what to do with.”

  “Dom—”

  “We share a special bond, right?”

  “Oui,” his voice grated.

  Dominic put some Euros on the table and they left for the chateau. Under the circumstances, he couldn’t be happier to have his best friend close.

  Within the hour, they’d set Raoul up in one of the bedrooms. His cousin eyed him as they both went to the kitchen for more coffee. “The family will have a collective heart attack when they find out the two bad boys have joined forces, but I could not care less. Have you ended it with Corinne yet?”

  “I took care of that last night. When you texted me a little while ago, I was on my way to the parents to be castigated.”

  “How did that go?”

  “According to Maman, Corinne’s mother is in hysterics. I know I hurt Corinne for expectations never met, but there were no outward histrionics.”

  His cousin’s dark brow lifted. “Let’s change the subject. What’s going on with Mademoiselle Fournier?”

  “I haven’t fired her yet if that tells you anything.” Dominic was still shaken by the taste and feel of Nathalie, who’d welcomed his kiss last night with the same urgency he’d been feeling from the beginning.

  “Do you still suspect her of something?”

  “I don’t know,” he ground out. “Maybe I’m wrong and she’s exactly who she says she is. After hearing about Sabine’s lie of omission, I pray to God Nathalie has told me her whole truth by now.”

  His cousin eyed him with concern. “You sound like a man in love.”

  Dominic’s head reared. “It may have finally happened, Raoul.” But he would be in pain until he knew all of her and her heart.

  “Does she feel the same way?”

  “She hasn’t said the words yet, but I know it in my gut.” The way she’d kissed him had been proof of that.

  * * *

  Rain fell on Friday. Nathalie’s work was wet and messy. She needed to shower and wash her hair after finishing work, as Dominic would be coming by to take her out for the evening.

  Learning that he planned to be married soon had shaken her. If he were Alain’s father and wanted a relationship with his boy, then how would Nathalie handle it? She was Alain’s aunt and they would be sharing him. How was she going to shut off her feelings?

  This evening she put on a pale blue short-sleeved blouse and a white skirt with a small blue print. She hadn’t worn anything dressy around him. Her hair had natural curl. She brushed it until it swished against her shoulders from a side part, then she put on her leather sandals. Nathalie wore no makeup other than lipstick.

  When he knocked on the door, she opened it and sucked in her breath. He stood there wearing a silky black shirt and gray trousers. No man had ever looked so devastatingly gorgeous to her. “Dominic—”

  Tonight was her chance to ask him questions about Antoinette. She’d started down this path for Alain’s sake and needed to see it through. “Thanks for being on time. I’m hungry again.”

  He chuckled and backed around. “And here I thought I’d have to wait. You’re a constant surprise.”

  “So are you.”

  Dominic darted her an amused glance with those gleaming black eyes before they got in the car and headed for Vence. He drove through the town and up into the hills. They wound around to a restaurant with date palms and cypress trees overlooking the breathtaking landscape.

  He escorted her inside and they were shown to a table out on the veranda with a sweeping view. The waiter handed them menus.

  “Everything’s good here.”

  Nathalie looked over the options. “What’s your favorite?”

  “Suprême de veau rôti, crème provençale.”

  “That sounds delicious.” She loved veal. “I’ll try it.”

  The waiter came back with coffee and a wine list.

  Dominic’s gaze held hers as he told the waiter, “We’ll pass on the wine.” After giving him their order, the waiter walked off.

  “I would imagine wine from the Fontesquieu vineyards makes up a good portion of every restaurant’s list in Provence and elsewhere.”

  “My cousin Raoul could tell you all about it. He’s in charge of marketing and sales.”

  “That has to be an enormous responsibility.”

  “But nothing like the responsibility you have as a pharmacist. When you make a mistake, it could be life
threatening.”

  She nodded. “That’s true.”

  “What made you choose that for your career?”

  Now would be the perfect time to tell him about the family Alain had been born into.

  “My parents were both pharmacists. That’s how they met and got married. I was born soon after their marriage, then my papa died. I never knew him, only my stepfather, also a druggist who was a widower with a daughter. He married my mother. I grew up wanting to be a pharmacist too. After I graduated, they took me on at the pharmacy they owned.”

  “Sounds like my family.”

  “In a way.” Their eyes held. “My stepfather ran everything until he died several years ago.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “So am I,” she whispered. “Since then my mother has hired another pharmacist to help us.”

  “Do you live with your mother?”

  “Yes.” And one precious boy.

  Their dinner came, interrupting their conversation. She started eating. “This veal is superb. I’m glad you suggested it.”

  “It never disappoints. Tell me, are you an only child?”

  Her heart thudded. Stick to the truth as much as you dare. “No. I just had my stepsister, but she died sixteen months ago of an infection.”

  “Your family has known a lot of grief,” he commiserated. “My parents lost a daughter right after she was born.”

  “They must have suffered.”

  “So have you after breaking up with the man you thought to marry.”

  She sipped her coffee. Since meeting Dominic, she hadn’t given Guy a thought. “That has turned out to be a good thing. I can’t imagine anything worse than getting married, only to discover you made a mistake. To settle when you already have questions about that person makes no sense to me.”

  “I couldn’t agree more,” he said with almost savage conviction. It sent a shiver down her spine.

  Taking her courage in her hands, Nathalie said, “Rumor has it you will be getting married soon.” She had to find out.

  “Paul needs to be careful what he passes on, though it’s not his fault what he hears. Marriage was never on my agenda. Otherwise I wouldn’t have asked you to come to dinner with me this evening.”

  Heaven forgive her, but that news meant more to her than he would ever know. If she dared tell him about Alain, and he agreed to take a DNA test to prove paternity, he could be with his son without the complications of a new wife. But only if that was what Dominic wanted more than anything in his life. Alain deserved a father who would cherish him.

  Knowing he wasn’t getting married prompted her next question. “Why did you invite me out this evening, Dominic?”

  His eyes narrowed on her mouth, making her whole body go limp. “You can ask me that after our walk in the vineyard?” She averted her eyes. “Because I wanted to.” Somehow she felt he’d spoken the truth just now. “Why did you accept, Nathalie?”

  Her heart thundered in her chest. “If I tell you the real reason, will you believe me?” They were both circling each other.

  “I deserved that.”

  She was able to tell him one honest truth, though she was riddled with guilt. “Because I wanted to be with you too.”

  Dominic’s chest rose and fell visibly, communicating an emotion that appeared to match hers. There was a growing sensual tension between them that couldn’t be denied, haunting her more and more.

  The waiter came over to suggest dessert. She declined. So did Dominic, who asked for the check. When it was paid, they left and went out to his car.

  Nathalie looked up at the sky. “It’s still overcast, but I don’t think it will rain again tomorrow.”

  “It won’t,” he assured her and helped her into the car before walking around.

  Once he was behind the wheel, she sent him a covert glance. “If you ever decide to give up being a vintner, you’ll make a better weatherman than any meteorologist.”

  “I wouldn’t want the job. They make too many mistakes. Technically I’m no longer a vintner. Not since I left for Paris eleven years ago and went into investment banking.”

  Eleven years? She blinked. When had there been time for him to meet Antoinette? Had she been wrong about him this whole time? “So you weren’t born with grape juice running in your veins?” she teased.

  He chuckled. “Maybe, but I was much more interested in what made the world go round. Big business intrigued me.”

  Nathalie knew there was much more he hadn’t told her, but this was a beginning. Before the night was out she might even learn enough to broach the subject of Alain.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  TWILIGHT HAD FALLEN over the town, giving it a magical look. Nathalie felt like they were the only two people who existed. Instead of driving her straight back to the mobile home, Dominic took her on a long drive around the other side of the vineyard, letting her see the vast property.

  “The air smells so sweet, I feel like I’m in a dream. There’s a peace here in the vineyard impossible to describe, yet it’s alive. Glorious! I read an article on the Fontesquieu website that said there is something special about the manner in which vines in France attach themselves to the landscape. The author suggested that France is where the vines are supposed to be.”

  Dominic nodded. “My family believes as much.”

  “So do I.”

  He glanced at her. “When I took you to the winery, I wondered if you’d seen the plaque on the wall right by us.”

  “I did. It said, ‘God planted the best vines on earth here in Provence.’ I loved it.” She drew in a deep breath. “Seeing all this with you, I believe it.”

  If the man sitting next to her had been Antoinette’s heart’s desire, it was understandable that she’d succumbed to him. But more and more Nathalie was beginning to feel that he wasn’t Alain’s father, and she didn’t want this evening to end.

  Maybe he was reading her thoughts because he said, “Do you mind if we make a detour to Saint Jeannet before I take you back home? My brother asked me to check on a special shipment of red wine my grandfather has been waiting for, and until Etienne gets better I’m trying to help him. It’ll only be ten minutes out of our way.”

  The question filled her with exhilaration. This would give her more time to be with him. “Tell me about the shipment of red wine, Dominic. I thought you only produced rosé wine.”

  “We produce everything.”

  “Even sour wine.”

  He smiled. “That too.”

  “Will you tell me what you know about the emperor Charlemagne? I hear there’s a story to do with him and red wine.”

  Dominic chuckled. “One of those stories is purported to have to do with his fourth or fifth wife. She was a beautiful German princess with many gifts and he adored her. When she died, he never remarried. But getting to the point, being a tall proud man with a prominent white beard, he wanted to look his best for her when they were married. Yet there was one problem.”

  Everything the brilliant man sitting next to her said or did enamored her. “What was that?”

  “According to history, he was a big meat eater and red wine drinker. But she didn’t like the red stains on his beard.”

  Nathalie studied the red stains on her own fingers and could well understand.

  “Word has it that she demanded he drink only white wine. From then on only white grapes were commanded to be planted on a certain section of the hill. That’s when Corton-Charlemagne in Burgundy was born and still continues.”

  “I had no idea. How fascinating.”

  “Except that it’s partly myth. Other sources say it was Charlemagne’s mother who didn’t like her royal son looking terrible with those dreadful red stains.”

  She laughed. “That sounds more realistic.”

  “Are you ready for this? Some sources say he did
n’t have a beard. According to scholars, it was customary in the Middle Ages for artists to put facial hair on the rulers, symbolic of their virility.”

  “Oh, dear—don’t tell me that and ruin this picture I have of Charlemagne with his barbe fleurie.”

  It was Dominic’s turn to laugh that deep laugh she loved. “Too much authentic research destroys most of our beliefs.”

  “You’re right. It’s much more fun to enjoy our own version of life. Since I’m with an expert and we’re talking about red wine, please explain about red grapes having many secrets. I cherish the memory of you taking me on a tour of the winery.”

  His hand reached over to clasp hers, sending waves of longing through her body. Both their emotions were spilling over. “To keep it simple, all grape juice is white. Only the red skins contain a dark pigment. If the juice is separated from the skins shortly after being crushed, it remains white.”

  “I see.”

  “If the juice is left in contact with the red skins during fermentation, it becomes that delightful pink color. Left longer, it becomes red wine.”

  “I’m embarrassed to know so little about it.”

  He turned to her. “That’s because you’re not a wine drinker. Those who are show surprise to learn that eighty-eight percent of the wine produced in Provence is rosé. It has a delicious fruity flavor. Some people refer to it as summer water.”

  Another chuckle came out of her.

  “Other drinkers prefer white wine, which is sweeter. Red wine is heavier. But as I explained, our winery produces everything.”

  During their conversation, she hadn’t realized they’d reached the town of Saint Jeannet. He pulled up to a big warehouse before letting her go. He flicked his gaze to her. “I’ll only be a minute.”

  The whole time they’d been talking, she realized she hadn’t asked him any personal questions. But after hearing he’d been away from Vence for so many years, she was beginning to think he couldn’t have been Antoinette’s lover.