Книга - Pregnancy Proposals: The Duke’s Baby

Pregnancy Proposals: The Duke's Baby
Rebecca Winters

Raye Morgan

Brenda Harlen


THE DUKE'S BABYLance Malbois, Duc du Lac, may be a hardened military man, but all he wants is to be a dad. So when Andrea Fallon, a pregnant widow, is looking for a father for her unborn baby, he has the perfect solution: a marriage of convenience. The Boss’s Pregnancy Proposal Fighting her attraction for her heart-stoppingly handsome boss shouldn’t have been so hard, until Grant Carver asks Callie to have his baby! Of course, love wouldn’t enter into the arrangement…THE MARRIAGE SOLUTIONTess Lucas had carefully planned every detail of her life, until a broken engagement led to a one-night stand with her best friend. Now she’s pregnant and Craig is demanding marriage, but Tess isn’t ready to give up on the fairy tale!









Pregnancy Proposals

The Duke’s Baby

Rebecca Winters

The Boss’s Pregnancy Proposal

Raye Morgan

The Marriage Solution

Brenda Harlen







www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)




Table of Contents


Cover (#u44f64c21-1cde-5bff-9ca7-f578ce447171)

Title Page (#ue13e3194-fd61-59b5-9300-68f66bad5c17)

The Duke’s Baby

About the Author (#u96a26bea-5d54-51cf-af84-d5a470e67b38)

Chapter One (#u20833af5-f4b1-53ff-b6b8-793a24178e31)

Chapter Two (#u676d616a-7595-58fd-982a-97833ca44bf8)

Chapter Three (#u86d48eed-ef36-57c1-a84c-da7c68759088)

Chapter Four (#ucb9467ba-ac1f-5455-9e08-ead7b8b87a7a)

Chapter Five (#u00dc7643-6394-5bfd-9f4f-757d88f6417a)

Chapter Six (#uc9e983c7-5e00-5369-86a3-86220b1e0dd3)

Chapter Seven (#u3dff561f-f48e-5da5-9689-e645746c96a0)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)

The Boss’s Pregnancy Proposal

About the Author (#litres_trial_promo)

Dedication (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter One (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Two (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Three (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)

The Marriage Solution

About the Author (#litres_trial_promo)

Dedication (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter One (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Two (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Three (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)



The Duke’s Baby (#uf1e6ebab-7e9d-506d-8f55-1ae0233941dd)


REBECCA WINTERS, whose family of four children has now swelled to include five beautiful grandchildren, lives in Salt Lake City, Utah, in the land of the Rocky Mountains. With canyons and high alpine meadows full of wildflowers nearby, she never runs out of places to explore. These spaces, plus her favourite vacation spots in Europe, often end up as backgrounds for her romance novels. Writing is her passion, along with her family and church. Rebecca loves to hear from readers. If you wish to email her, please visit her website, www.cleanromances.com.




CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_89ccba7a-5b3a-54cf-8e77-511310e3308d)


… LANCELOT possesses all he wants, when the queen voluntarily seeks his company and love, and when he holds her in his arms, and she holds him in hers. Their sport is so agreeable and sweet, as they kiss and fondle each other, that in truth such a marvelous joy comes over them as was never heard or known.

With an aching groan, Andrea Fallon closed the book she was reading, unable to see any more words in the fading light. It was just as well since she couldn’t bear to go on reading the hauntingly beautiful story.

Maybe never again.

Though the French poet Chrétien de Troyes might have written the story of Lancelot in 1171, his description of the famous knight’s love for Guinevere was as stirring now as then.

What woman wasn’t envious of the queen who inspired such love in the first Knight of the Round Table?

Wouldn’t any woman wish to be loved with a love so all-consuming and powerful.

Cross at herself over her preoccupation with the greatest Knight in Christendom, Andrea’s thoughts returned to Richard, the husband she’d buried three months ago.

“Would you have loved me more if I’d been able to give you a child?” her heart cried.

Since the funeral she’d gone over and over their troubled marriage in her mind, wondering if her unexpected barren condition had been so painful for him, some of his feelings for her had simply turned off.

Only twenty-one to his thirty-one when they’d exchanged vows, who would have dreamed she would develop a childbearing problem so early in their married life?

Her aunt’s cousin hadn’t been able to have children, but that didn’t seem to have affected the love between her and her husband. They went on to adopt two children. But Richard refused to talk about adoption. He wanted a child from his own body, not someone else’s.

Knowing he felt that way, Andrea hadn’t pressed him about it. But from then on their relationship underwent subtle changes. He grew more distant and threw himself into his work, either unaware of Andrea’s pain, or unwilling to deal with it because his own was too great.

Their lovemaking seemed to have become an afterthought for him. In the last year he’d behaved more like a friend than a lover with only an occasional coming together she’d been forced to initiate.

She’d hoped they would get past their sorrow, that it was temporary. Surely in time he would ache for a child and be willing to consider adoption.

Andrea was convinced that if they’d taken the steps to start adoption proceedings right away, the anticipation of becoming parents would have brought joy and helped the physical side of their marriage get back on track. But that time never came. Now it was too late.

Oh, Richard …

Hot tears formed rivulets down her cheeks.

Her aunt had promised her this period of mourning would pass. “One day you’ll meet that special someone who will want to marry you and adopt children.”

Andrea didn’t believe it, not when she remembered the other things in their marriage that hadn’t happened. With ten years difference between them, she suffered over the possibility that she simply hadn’t measured up.

Richard’s academic world had been filled with brilliant men and women. What had she been able to offer if she couldn’t give him a child they both wanted?

Why had he even married her?

The second she asked the question she realized grief was causing her to lose her perspective. She’d lost her appetite weeks ago.

Thirty-seven years of age was too young for him to die. Devastated by his early passing, which cut off all hope of their making a family, Andrea got up wearily from her resting place against a tree trunk.

A good night’s sleep was what she needed to restore her long enough to finish her husband’s latest project on Arthurian legend. Another couple of days to capture a stag or a wild boar on film—the kind you saw woven in tapestries—and her collection of pictures would be complete. Unfortunately she would have to return to New Haven without any sightings of the damsel of the lake.

Andrea had been in Brittany close to a week. Already she’d discovered that the Forêt de Broceliande became an enchanted world after the sun went down. In awe of the forest’s almost seven-hundred-foot high canopy, she found the place secretive and quiet except for the forest creatures ambling among birch and chestnut trees.

Any minute now she expected the characters from Camelot to steal from their hiding places in this magical setting and whisper their stories.

As Andrea put the strap of her camera case over her shoulder, she thought she heard the rustle of underbrush caused by the breeze. Or possibly it was a forest creature, but her imagination had been playing overtime for the last few hours.

A little spooked she looked around, causing her hair to swish around her face.

“Oh—” she cried out.

From behind the fir trees at the end of the pear-shaped lake, simply called Le Lac, a lean, solitary figure in military camouflage emerged. He almost startled her out of her skin with his raw male, twenty-first century presence.

Every inch of this modern man’s rip cord strong body radiated an animal-like energy. It wouldn’t surprise her if he carried a knife and a gun, but she sensed his tall body was a lethal weapon. No doubt when he slept, one eye remained open.

If he’d been tracking her, he moved with a built-in radar. Andrea shivered. His enemy wouldn’t be aware of him until it was too late.

The skin stretched over his hard-boned aquiline features had been burnished to teak by an equatorial sun you didn’t feel in France. In the twilight she made out burning-blue eyes. They were scrutinizing her beneath black brows and a head of short-cropped black hair.

She’d never met a more fiercely handsome man.

For an insane moment she could visualize him in shining armor as he knelt before Guinevere with the heavens shining down on him. Then he spoke in a deep, grating voice, shattering the illusion into a thousand pieces.

“You’re trespassing,” he said, first in French then in heavily accented English.

His underlying note of hostility caught Andrea off guard. This was no young disguised prince who’d mastered the art of chivalry. There was no “Bonsoir,” or “Je m’excuse,” or “Je regrette,” that he’d frightened her.

This dangerous man, probably in his mid-thirties and aggressively male, glared at her as if he had something personal against her.

Unless he’d been able to make out the title on the front of her book, she couldn’t understand how he knew to speak English to her. She gripped it tighter. “Actually I have permission to be here,” she explained in a low tone.

His eyes narrowed to slits before he relieved her of her camera case. The action had been too lightning quick for her to prevent it. He wound the strap around one masculine wrist with its sprinkling of dark hair, making it impossible for her to take it from him. Not that she would have tried. Instinct told her he knew moves she’d never dreamed of.

“No one has permission to be here. Whoever you are, I suggest you be on your way.”

“The groundskeeper told me where I could take pictures of the wildlife.”

His jaw hardened. “You can redeem your camera from the security guard at the gate in the morning. If you’re lying, then I wouldn’t come around here again if I were you.”

He raked a brazen gaze over the mold of her face and body one more time, reminding her she was a woman, with feminine curves. But unlike other men, he seemed to find no pleasure in the fact. Indeed, quite the opposite.

“Remember you’ve been warned,” he added before moving with stealthlike grace until he’d disappeared in the foliage.

Still trembling from the combination of his chilling tone and intimate appraisal that missed nothing, it took a minute for her to find her legs before heading back to the Château Du Lac. She shouldn’t have stayed out here so long. Night was fast closing in, making it difficult to see her way through the dense undergrowth.

The groundskeeper of the château who’d provided her with a quickly drawn layout of the vast Du Lac estate, hadn’t indicated he’d hired another man to patrol the area at night. In fairness to him, he probably wouldn’t have imagined her staying out after sunset to take photographs.

But of course that wasn’t what she’d been doing just now. There was something about reading Lancelot’s story in the very forest where he’d grown up that had appealed to the fanciful side of her nature. That is until the poet’s words had struck a chord, disturbing her at her deepest level where she hated to admit her marriage wasn’t all it should have been.

Adrenaline from her unexpected encounter with the forbidding stranger kept her heart rate accelerated. By the time she reached the gravel driveway leading up to the front entrance of the early thirteenth century château, weakness had attacked her. She’d been forced to stop to catch her breath.

After running through the thick forest in her haste to return, the imposing three-story structure with its rounded towers came as an enchanting surprise. The lights from inside brought out the deep red of the garnets embedded in the schist rock from which it had been constructed. It was like stumbling upon a rare treasure glowing in the heart of a dark wood.

A large, well-trained staff kept the château and gardens immaculate, yet she saw no cars. If it weren’t for the gleam radiating from the windows you wouldn’t know anyone was about.

Tonight nothing seemed real. Maybe her head was too full of Lancelot and broken dreams. It was possible she’d only imagined her confrontation with the audacious man whose unforgettable looks had managed to jolt her body to react.

His unexpected presence had jerked her senses awake from their frozen prison where a plethora of emotions had lain dormant these past few months. Andrea didn’t appreciate being forced to deal with her feelings yet. In fact she resented him for intruding on her already precarious state of mind.

Before this incident she’d been able to remain in her temporary comfort zone, carried along by the plan that had brought her back to this mystical province. Taking pictures didn’t require thinking, only doing.

After letting herself inside the ornate entrance hall, she hurried up the grand staircase to her apartment on the third floor. Henri, the head of the house staff, had told her the front door would remain unlocked until 10:00 p.m. every night. Till then she could come and go as she pleased by orders of Geoffroi Malbois, the Duc Du Lac, who’d been born and raised in this château.

At present the trim, distinguished looking owner was battling pneumonia. He’d come down with it following a nasty case of the flu, yet he’d been kind enough to insist she stay on.

Through his housekeeper Brigitte, Andrea learned he’d instructed his guest be put in the rarely used green room. The second the older woman unlocked the door, its special significance became apparent.

Against the light green background of the ceiling and walls, the life-size figures of Lancelot and Guinevere had been immortalized. A fourteenth century artist had depicted their secret trysts for each month of the year. The glorious colors were still vibrant, as if he’d just painted them.

The first night Andrea lay down on the massive round bed, she kept moving in different positions to study the two beautiful lovers. She remembered thinking no living man could match Lancelot’s splendor.

But as she walked in the bedroom tonight, she carried the image of the intrusive stranger with her. It was an image she couldn’t seem to get out of her head despite the epitome of manhood staring her in the face everywhere she looked.

First she would change, then go downstairs for a roll or something. The thought of a meal didn’t appeal. If the Duc’s condition hadn’t worsened, she’d check in on him to say good-night. He’d urged her to visit him in the evenings, but she’d have done it anyway.

Andrea had never met a kinder, more accommodating person. Miserable as he felt, he exuded exceptional warmth. To an extent that particular quality had been missing from her marriage, but she hadn’t realized it so much until she’d spent a little time in the presence of her host.

He didn’t stand on ceremony and had insisted Andrea call him Geoff. Having taken particular interest in her husband’s project at Easter, he’d wanted to help her any way he could. Even though the Duc was ill right now, he’d told her to make herself at home for as long as she wanted.

From their talks she’d learned he led a busy social life and was active in civic and ecological affairs. He had a son from his first marriage who lived away. The stepdaughter from his second marriage, which had failed, lived with him when she wasn’t traveling. Evidently he didn’t suffer from lack of company. According to Henri there were always visitors coming and going, proof of how well he was regarded by his friends.

In return for his generosity of spirit, not to mention everything else, Andrea couldn’t help but gravitate to him and was worried about his physical condition. Since her arrival at the château he’d been forced to remain in bed. The last three days his symptoms had grown worse. There’d been nurses around the clock and the doctor had come by twice.

If there was anything she could do to help, she would. After losing her husband to a blood clot in his prime, she would always take another person’s illness seriously.

It felt good to get out of the clothes she’d been wearing all day, especially her jeans, which felt tight. While reading earlier, she’d undone the metal button to make herself more comfortable. Since she’d only worn them once before packing them for this trip, she decided they must have shrunk a little bit too much in the wash.

Once she’d picked out a cream colored blouse and brown wraparound skirt to wear, she grabbed fresh underwear and hurried into the modernized en-suite bathroom to shower and wash the pine needles out of her hair.

Later, on her way down to the Duc’s suite on the second floor, she would find Henri and tell him what happened in the forest. He would take care of the problem and arrange for the return of her camera.

For the next few days she would confine her picture taking to the mornings in order to avoid another confrontation with the rough, unfeeling man who’d warned her off.

Lance Malbois gave his father’s dog Percy a good scratch behind the ears before approaching the bed. “Papa? Are you awake?”

His father’s eyelids opened, revealing dull gray eyes. This illness had drained them of their normal sparkle. As he stared at his son in disbelief, they took on life. “Mon fils—”

Lance’s heart lurched. His father’s voice was weak. Without the oxygen helping him breathe—

He fought not to show his concern in front of him. The father he loved was too young a man to be this sick. His pallor alarmed Lance.

“When did you arrive?” the older man asked with effort.

“A little while ago. You were asleep. I didn’t want to disturb you, so I took a walk.”

After suffering one shock that his father’s flu had turned into something worse, he hadn’t been prepared for another one—that of coming across anyone on their private property.

“Father?” he squeezed his hand. “Why didn’t you let me know your illness was this serious? How come I had to hear it from Henri? You know I would have flown home sooner.”

“The pneumonia barely came on. It took me by surprise, but I’m better than I was last night.” After a coughing spell he asked, “How long will you be here this time?”

Lance sucked in his breath. “I’m home for good.”

At that unexpected news, joy illuminated his father’s face. “You mean it?” He tried to raise his head off the pillow, but Lance restrained him gently.

“I’ve left the service. It’s over.”

“I’ve hoped for this day, Lance.” He struggled through another coughing spasm. “I’ve prayed you would return healthy in mind and body. Le bon Dieu heard me.”

What his parent saw was a shell of the man he once was. Lance wouldn’t want him to know what lay beneath.

“Now that I’m back, we’re going to work on your getting well. Anything you’re worrying about, I’ll take care of.”

His father smiled through his tears. “Am I dreaming?”

Lance had trouble clearing the lump in his throat. “Non, mon père.”

It was long past time he started helping his remarkable father who needed Lance to shoulder more of the responsibilities. His parent had not only raised him from birth, ten years ago he’d been wise enough to give Lance his freedom without making him feel guilty. In the end, that freedom had brought Lance back home of his own free will.

The reason that had driven him away in the first place no longer mattered. Since that time life had delivered him a blow from which he would never recover whether he lived at the far ends of the earth or at home. At least here he could be of use to his father.

“The nurse is making signs you need to rest. She says you’ve had too many friends come by and they’ve worn you out, so I’m going to let you sleep now.”

“Don’t go.”

“I just want to have a word with the staff, but I promise I’ll be back to stay in here with you tonight. Percy will stand guard, won’t you.”

The dog moaned in response.

“Do you know he won’t leave me? Henri has to force him to go out when it’s necessary.”

Percy’s love for his master was touching. “That doesn’t surprise me.”

A couple of years before Lance had joined the military, his father had found a stray puppy of mixed breed near to death in the forest. Some cruel person must have dropped it off to die, but his father brought him back to the château to nurse him. They’d been inseparable ever since.

“Are you settled in your suite down the hall?”

“Oui.”

“We—” He stopped long enough to cough again. “We have a visitor.”

A frown marred Lance’s features. “Someone’s staying at the château?”

“Yes.” He would have said more, but another coughing spell took over.

As far as Lance was concerned, whoever it was needed to leave. His gracious father didn’t know how to say no to anyone. His second marriage was proof in point. Right now he was too ill to realize what was good for him. Lance hadn’t come home any too soon to take charge.

Kissing his father on either cheek, he nodded to the nurse then left his father’s suite to go in search of Henri who was devoted to his parent. He found him in the foyer closing up the château for the night.

Lance approached him from the right since the head of the staff couldn’t hear out of his left ear. Years earlier Henri had been a young groomsman at the stable when a hunting accident had occurred. After being released from the hospital, Lance’s father had brought him into the château to take care of him. He’d been in his household employ ever since.

“I understand there’s a guest staying at the château, Henri.”

The older man turned and nodded. ”Oui. A Madame Fallon.”

His shuttered gaze searched Henri’s. “Someone ‘special’?”

“Your father insisted I put her in la chambre verte.“

Lance was stunned. The green room had always been offlimits to guests in order to preserve its treasures. This meant his sixty-seven-year-old father could have become romantically involved.

Even if this woman was worthy of him, which Lance knew wasn’t possible, his father had gone too far. Lance had to admit to being surprised his parent hadn’t mentioned her before now. But after the disaster of his second marriage, maybe he was too worried over his son’s reaction to tell him anything on that score.

“Has he known her long?”

“He met her at Easter, but she’s only been at the château a week.”

Lance had come home for that holiday on a chance twelve-hour leave, but there’d been no mention of her then.

A week was long enough for his parent to have become infatuated. He ground his teeth. What hold did this woman have over his father? He’d buried his heart with Lance’s mother and had waited until his mid-forties before marrying a second time.

That travesty of a union had lasted less than a year. Long enough to scar his father, or so Lance had thought …

A blackness swept through him. “What’s your opinion of her, Henri?”

“She’s been good for your father.”

Such praise coming from Henri, the soul of discretion, was unprecedented. Evidently she’d deceived Henri, too.

“When was the last time Corinne was home?”

“Last month. She’s on holiday in Australia right now.”

That meant she wasn’t privy to this latest information about his father’s interest in another woman. He could only imagine her reaction when she found out. As for her knowing Lance had returned …

He patted Henri’s shoulder. “Thanks for all your care of him. Now that I’m home on a permanent basis, bring any concerns to me.”

The other man smiled. “It’s good to have you back. Your father has been living for the day.”

If Brigitte hadn’t already gone to bed, she’d volunteer certain details about his father’s relationship with this latest predator. Unlike her husband, Henri, the housekeeper had no qualms when it came to expressing her opinions.

Any feelings of guilt Lance suffered for having been away this long were overshadowed by anger that another toxic female was already sleeping under their roof, counting the seconds until his father made her his third wife.

In need of a drink, he went to the kitchen for coffee first. Much as he’d like something stronger, he would opt for painkillers in lieu of alcohol to tamp down the pain of a recent injury. However there was no medicine, no drink to wipe out the agony of shattered dreams.

From the first day of her arrival, Andrea had been told she could help herself to anything from the modernized kitchen no matter the hour. Brigitte insisted the cook wouldn’t mind.

Taking her at her word, Andrea found some fresh brioche under a glass cover and ate one over the sink so she wouldn’t spill crumbs on the stone floor. Since neither coffee nor fruit juice sounded good, she ended up drinking potable water from the faucet.

As she was standing on tiptoe to put the glass back on the baker’s rack, someone pushed open the kitchen door and came in. She assumed it was Brigitte about to make hot tea with honey for the Duc.

“I hope Geoff’s better tonight,” she called over her shoulder.

“We’re all hoping for that miracle.”

Andrea stilled for a moment.

That deep voice with the heavy French accent—she’d heard it before. Just a little while ago in fact.

Her heart began to thud before she spun around to face the man she’d met in the forest. The quick motion caused her golden-brown hair to float about her shoulders before settling.

His searching gaze watched her, taking in every inch of her curves before it looked into the dark velvety-brown of her eyes. Like scorching blue flames, his flared in recognition.

He needed a shave and was still dressed in fatigues. The collar couldn’t hide a thin white scar that ran up the side of his bronzed neck. She hadn’t noticed it in the semidark of the forest. At the mere thought of how he came by it, a shudder ran through her body.

If her instincts didn’t deceive her, he was not pleased to discover that the trespasser he’d confronted earlier was inside this château, helping herself to the food.

“Who are you?” he asked in a grating voice that managed to disturb her already sensitized nerves.

“Andrea Fallon. It appears the groundskeeper neglected to let you know Geoff had a guest.”

He poured himself a cup of coffee from the cafetière and drank part of it, studying her over the rim. His gaze was insolent as well as bold. He had no shame.

She averted her eyes. A man who lived a life-and-death existence as he must have done, had dispensed with civilized pretense a long time ago.

“Did you give my camera to the guard at the gate?”

“No,” came the unequivocal answer. “I’ll return it to you later.” He swallowed the rest of his coffee and put the cup in the sink.

“Morning will be fine. Now if you’ll excuse me, I want to look in on Geoff.”

“Not yet,” he muttered. The next thing she knew he’d placed his body between her and the door. His hand grasped her wrist so she couldn’t leave.

“What on earth is wrong with you?” she cried, trying to pull away from him. But his grip was far too strong. At five foot six and only a hundred and twenty pounds, she was no match for his steel-like strength.

“My question to you exactly,” he bit out, drawing her nearer until she felt the warmth from his rock-hard body. The male scent of him was as erotic as it was unexpected. “What are you? All of twenty-two compared to his almost seventy years?”

When Andrea figured out what he was implying, she couldn’t prevent the incredulous laugh that escaped. “Not that it’s any business of the hired help, but Geoff and I are friends!”

“No doubt you’d like it to be more.” He pulled her against him until she was crushed against every line and sinew of his body, sending fire through hers. She moaned in disbelief this was happening.

“Who made you his personal watchdog?” she cried, far too aware of their breath mingling, let alone his long, sooty lashes and the lines of experience bracketing his sensual mouth. No man had a right to be this attractive, yet so utterly offensive at the same time.

“Since his second marriage never took.” She thought she saw pain interspersed with anger flashing from his eyes. “If you think I’m about to let him enter into a third with someone young enough to be his granddaughter, you’re deluding yourself.”

He’d pushed her too far. She couldn’t refrain from baiting him. “Sometimes age isn’t as important as kindness and love.”

His lips twisted unpleasantly. “Especially when you’re looking at a fortune after he’s dead.”

“Is that why you stay in his employ?” She flashed him a mocking smile. “Are you hoping there’ll be something in it for you?”

The minute the question was out, she regretted her lapse of control and tried to jerk away from him without success.

“Why not … if you’re offering,” he drawled.

A thrill of fear raced through her body. Too late for escape, she couldn’t avoid the hard mouth that descended on hers.

Caught off guard, her gasp of surprise enabled him to drive deeper in a kiss so intimate and all-consuming, she was shaken to the foundations. For a dizzying moment the sensations he aroused caused her legs to lose their strength.

At the very second she found herself clinging to him so she wouldn’t fall, he gripped her upper arms and propelled her away from him.

It infuriated her that while she was out of breath and disheveled, he stood there mocking her with a devilish smile, seemingly unfazed by the encounter.

When she tore herself from his grasp, the force of it almost caused her to trip on her flight from the kitchen. She dashed through the hall and up the stairs of the château, needing to reach the safety of Geoff’s suite.




CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_f4882f4b-8c8b-50e9-93bc-ea323d8cedac)


A NEW nurse had come on duty. She smiled and nodded to Andrea, indicating her patient was up to a nocturnal visitor.

Approaching his bed, Andrea could see he was doing better. His oxygen tube had been taken away. Since last night he had more color and the slight wheeze in his chest didn’t seem as noticeable.

Still trembling from her experience in the kitchen, she pulled up a chair next to him and put a hand on his arm, willing her heart to stop slamming against her ribs.

Whether in the Duc’s employ or not, the stranger had crossed a line tonight with his primitive behavior. To manhandle a woman the way he’d just done was grounds for dismissal and a lot worse if Andrea had anything to say about it.

Without upsetting Geoff, she would learn what she could about the other man from Henri. He would know what should be done and would be discreet in handling the situation so she wasn’t bothered further.

“Geoff? It’s Andrea.”

His eyes opened. They had more life than before. He really was improving. Nothing could have pleased her more.

“You sound out of breath, ma chérie.“

Under the circumstances a little white lie wouldn’t hurt. “I just returned to the château and wanted to see you first.”

“I’m glad you’re here.” He patted her hand. “I have the most wonderful news.”

“The doctor must have told you you’re on the mend at last!” she interjected.

“It’s a fact I’m feeling better, but this is something else. My son has come home for good. I couldn’t speak about him or his work before tonight because it was classified. But now I can tell you. For the last ten years he’s been serving in various regions of the world as part of our military’s elite force.”

A slight gasp escaped her throat. With those words Andrea realized she’d already met his only offspring. No wonder he’d appeared in the kitchen as if he owned the place. It explained his presence on the grounds.

Wasn’t France’s elite force even more deadly than its special forces?

The moment he’d emerged so noiselessly from the pines, she’d sensed the difference about him. She had living proof he was even better trained and more dangerous than she’d first supposed.

His uncivilized behavior downstairs appeared to be the result of too much time spent doing unspeakable things for far too long.

“Earlier tonight while I was wondering when I would see him again, and hopefully in one piece, he appeared in my room and told me he’d performed his final service for the country. It’s over. Grâce à Dieu. Now he and Corinne can be married.”

“Corinne?”

“The daughter of my second wife.”

Andrea blinked. She supposed some stepbrothers and sisters did marry, but she couldn’t imagine it.

“Corinne’s had her eye on my son from the beginning. Now that he’s retired from the service, I’m going to get the grandchildren I’ve been waiting for. She’ll be home from her latest trip any day now.”

Would marriage be able to tame a man as out of control as his son? Andrea doubted it.

“I’m so happy for you,” she said before getting to her feet, unable to sit there calmly while she digested all the revelations of this night. If Geoff could have seen her being thoroughly kissed against her will by his only offspring, he’d be horrified.

“I want the two of you to meet.”

“We already have, Papa,” sounded an irascible voice that could only have come from one man. He’d just entered the bedroom. Andrea tried to smother her cry of surprise. “I discovered her by the lac.“

“Then you probably know how much this poor child has suffered, Lance.”

Lance was his real name?

Lancelot Du Lac?

“I’m afraid we didn’t do much talking,” Andrea broke in, not wanting to think about what had gone on during both private confrontations. Worse, she didn’t want Geoff hurt. Like any father, he had great hopes for his son’s future. Andrea had no desire to do anything that could bring him sadness.

“It’s obvious he’s anxious to spend time with you. Since you both have so much catching up to do, I’ll say good-night and visit you tomorrow.”

“Do you promise?”

“Of course. Keep getting better now.”

She squeezed his arm, then darted away feeling a pair of accusing blue eyes leveled on her back. As she raced to the door they seemed to say, “You can keep running from me, but I know what you’re up to. Be warned I’ll drive you out.”

By the time Andrea reached the safety of her bedroom, she’d made up her mind that tonight would be the last time she slept in this château.

Not because of Lance Du Lac’s treatment of her, which was unconscionable. Not even because of his faulty assumption that she had designs on his father. An extraordinary man like the Duc probably drew the interest of many women. One or two unscrupulous types might even be after his money and title. Naturally his son would be protective of him. But that wasn’t it.

Her need to leave stemmed from guilt.

She pulled the suitcase from the wardrobe and started to pack. In the morning she would slip down to Geoff’s room to thank him for everything and say goodbye. It was for the best.

To have become physically aware of his world-weary son—a cynical man scarred in both a physical and figurative sense from experiences she didn’t want to know about, a man who’d chosen to live life on the edge on purpose, and had probably left a trail of willing women around the globe before coming home to marry, seemed a total betrayal of Richard’s memory.

He’d barely been gone three months, yet twice this evening she’d found herself unwillingly attracted to a stranger who’d shown her nothing but primitive behavior.

She could still feel his hands on her body, could still feel his mouth devouring hers. All of it a violation, though she couldn’t say he’d hurt her. It was the brazen unexpectedness of his action that had surprised her.

And of course her involuntary response to his male appeal … That was the part that was so unforgivable.

When she’d first met her dark blond husband, she’d been working at a photography studio. She’d found it flattering that a university professor would be interested in her artwork suggestions for the current book he was writing.

He’d allowed her to see into his world. She’d been a good listener, eager to assist him any way she could. Not having had a college education herself, Andrea had put him on a pedestal, admiring the poet within. Their association had led to marriage. He’d been a gentle lover.

To fill the emptiness left by his death, she’d come back to France to finish up the artwork for his latest book. Work was all she knew. So what could explain her reaction to a forbidding ex-military man, the antithesis of Richard?

Maybe it was a case of the hormone therapy regimen she was on being out of whack.

What if all the clichés about a widow’s needs were true? If so, how embarrassing. How appalling!

The tip of Lance’s boot caught the foot of the chair Andrea Fallon had just vacated in her haste to avoid him. Guilt at being found out had been written in every move and expression of her body.

A beautiful body and face to match he acknowledged to himself with grudging honesty.

There was nothing wrong with his father’s eyesight, only with his lack of good judgment where she or any woman was concerned. They couldn’t be trusted.

He nudged the chair closer to the bed before sitting down next to his parent.

“Tell me about your guest’s suffering, Papa,” he asked without preamble.

His father looked at him with loving eyes. “When you came home on that quick trip at Easter, did you happen to meet the American professor who was working in my library?”

Lance’s thoughts flew back to those few hours when he’d stolen home to check on his father without anyone else knowing about it. “Henri mentioned you had a visitor. I recall getting a glimpse of him, but I admit I didn’t pay much attention.”

After another bout of coughing, his father continued. “Dr. Fallon taught medieval literature at Yale University in Connecticut, and came to La Bretagne over the Easter break to do research. He and his wife Andrea were staying at the Hotel Excalibur.”

The woman whose luscious mouth he could still taste on his lips was someone’s wife? Lance hadn’t seen her wearing any rings.

“Maurice rang me and asked if I wouldn’t allow his hotel guests to examine some of the manuscripts in our family’s collection. Dr. Fallon was already published and a reputed expert on Arthurian legend.”

“So of course you said yes,” Lance interjected with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. The news that his father was involved with a married woman caused his stomach to clench for a variety of unpalatable reasons.

“How could I refuse when I learned he was writing a book entitled The Definitive Lancelot Du Lac?“

Lance had heard it all before. Every would-be writer was attempting to pen a definitive book on the subject of the famous knight.

“About a month after they returned to the States, Andrea sent me a note telling me that following their flight home from Paris, her husband had died suddenly of a blood clot to the brain.”

What?

“She thanked me for letting them come to the château to see the library. Her husband had said it was the highlight of his trip. Naturally I was grieved for her sake and sent flowers. I told her that if she ever wanted to come for a visit, she was welcome.

“To my delight she wrote back two weeks ago and asked if she could come and take pictures of the forest. She wants to include some extra photographs in the book her husband had written.

“I have to tell you, Lance, if I could have had a daughter, I would have wanted one exactly like Andrea.”

A daughter—

Lance’s mind had to do a complete thought reversal. Suddenly certain things seemed clear, like his father allowing her to stay in the green room. He’d never offered it to anyone else, not even Corinne.

“She has your mother’s kindness,” his father continued, unaware of Lance’s shock. “It’s a very rare trait.”

So rare in fact that Lance hadn’t seen any evidence of it during their fiery exchange in the kitchen before his baser instincts had taken over to punish her for something she hadn’t done.

In any case he’d had no right in behaving like a brute.

“As soon as she flies back, she’s going to have it published as a special tribute to him. Now that you’re home, maybe you would show her some significant spots only you and I know about? Since her arrival, I’ve been too sick to accompany her.”

Lance lowered his head, massaging the knotted muscles at the back of his neck. Considering the reprehensible way he’d treated his father’s guest up to this point, he doubted she’d speak to him again, let alone be amenable to spending any time with him.

What in the hell had caused him to react so violently to Andrea Fallon? He’d met plenty of women in his life more beautiful and exotic. Bile rose in his throat when he remembered one in particular …

Mrs. Fallon had said she’d been given permission to be on the property. When she’d first looked at him with that haunted expression as if she were miles away, why hadn’t he recognized it as grief and believed her?

How in the devil could he explain his behavior in the kitchen when he didn’t understand it himself?

He didn’t really think his father would get involved with a woman that young, so what was the underlying emotion driving Lance’s cruelty toward an innocent guest? It seemed he’d completely misread Henri’s comment.

Obviously he’d become so hardened with life, he was more out of touch with civilized society than he realized. Apparently he was no longer fit to rejoin the world his father inhabited.

He got up from the chair. “Papa? I’ve got some things to do, but I’ll be back.”

Lance needed to speak to Andrea before she went to bed. It was time to pick up the pieces if it wasn’t already too late. Something told him if he didn’t, she might well be gone from the premises before morning. That was one thing he didn’t want on his conscience.

“Go ahead, mon fils. I’ll wait for you.”

“Try to sleep.”

“I think I can now that I know you’re going to be a permanent fixture around here. Corinne will be overjoyed when she returns from her trip and realizes you’re home for good.”

Lance looked down at his father who was too ill to deal with anything unpleasant. But the moment he improved, the truth would have to come out.

Percy followed Lance as far as the door but no further. The dog didn’t appear to have much use for him. Lance didn’t blame him for preferring his father’s company to Lance whose nature seemed to have been inexplicably vile in the face of innocent provocation.

After going to his suite for the camera, he took the steps two at a time to the third floor and listened outside Andrea’s room for signs of life. Even if she were in bed, he couldn’t let any more time go by without attempting to repair some of the damage.

He rapped on the heavy door with the back of his knuckles. “Andrea? It’s Lance. I have to talk to you. If you need to get dressed first, I’ll wait.”

In a minute he heard, “Should I decide not to open it, will you take a battering ram to the door?”

No one deserved that remark more than he did.

“You’re someone my father cares for very much. I’ve come to apologize.”

After a long silence, “Apology accepted.”

That was too easy. “Enough to open the door?”

“Surely it isn’t necessary.”

He folded his arms. “I presume you don’t want me to see the suitcase you’re packing. If your departure is too precipitous, my father will never forgive me. Since I’m already in the doghouse, as you Americans say, you wouldn’t wish to add to my punishment, would you?”

“The doghouse would be too good for you.”

His lips twitched. Kind as his father made her out to be, she had spirit. “You’re right. I don’t suppose you’d believe I’m suffering from posttraumatic shock syndrome—”

“I believe it, but you’ve taken it to new depths. You’re more like your alter ego than I’d realized.”

“You mean one day I’ll join Lancelot in Hell?”

“If the armor fits.”

“How do you know I haven’t already been there?”

“I surmised as much. Only someone who’s been in hell would treat me the way you have.”

Her arrow found its mark dead center. His amusement vanished. “Is there no redemption?”

“I don’t know. I’ll have to think about it.”

He drew in a ragged breath. “I’m leaving your camera outside this door. If you choose to stay a little longer, I swear on my mother’s grave no harm will come to you from me.”

After a short silence, “Since I know how much your father loved her, I’ll take that into consideration.”

She knew how to deliver the coup de grâce. There were many sides to Andrea Fallon. She was the most dangerous kind of female.

“I’m sorry about your husband. I didn’t know.”

“I thought Lancelot was given special powers.”

He closed his eyes tightly for a moment. “I’ve done too many dark deeds and have forfeited most of them.”

“How sad.”

She sounded as if she meant it. It was then he realized he’d given too much away, a position he loathed to be in.

“I’m leaving now to spend the night with Papa. Don’t let my uncourteous behavior prevent you from making him happy. Should you disappear without explanation, I can’t promise he won’t go downhill.”

Much as he was hoping she’d relent enough to open the door so they could talk face-to-face, he had a gut feeling it wasn’t going to happen. He’d behaved like a bastard and was reaping the consequences.

“Dors bien, Andrea,” his voice rasped before he turned away and made a swift return to the second floor.

Disturbed by the memory of the way she’d felt in his arms when he’d kissed her, he realized it was going to be a long night …

Delighted by the morning sun that pierced the clouds and filtered down through the cathedral of trees, Andrea made her way to the opposite end of the lake from where she’d been reading the previous evening.

Maybe she would get lucky and one of the forest animals following an ancient game trail to the water’s edge would enter the site where she planned to take pictures.

After a good night’s sleep, which came as a surprise considering her tormented state of mind last evening, she realized the worst thing she could do was run away. Geoff wouldn’t understand. Since she couldn’t explain it herself, she’d decided to put yesterday’s experience behind her and behave like an adult.

Lance had proved to be a man with a scarred soul. Using the most elemental of ways, he’d set out to expose her for the loose, conniving female he believed her to be.

Where his father was concerned, his protective instincts were over the top. Combined with his innate distrust of women, he must have choked on that apology for his rough treatment of her. It was probably a first for him.

But coming from a family with a title and great wealth, he no doubt had reasons for his suspicions. Which he’d carried to the extreme.

Still, he’d returned her camera and had promised she would have nothing more to fear from him. She believed him.

As for her reaction to his virility, that wasn’t his fault. It was her own unchecked response to him Andrea feared.

She should have known there’d come a day of awakening when she’d realize she was alone again and vulnerable. Somehow she hadn’t expected it to happen here, or that it would be Geoff’s son who made her aware of her womanhood in a way no man had ever done.

Richard was the only man she’d ever slept with and he’d taken his time to get to know her before they’d become intimate.

Troubled by her thoughts that seemed to swirl toward one inescapable vortex, she looked for a fallen tree where she could sit while she waited for a deer or some such thing to appear.

In truth she was tired even though she’d slept well. Since eating part of an omelet earlier, she’d felt a trifle nauseous. These were signs of pregnancy, but that wasn’t possible. Since she’d had these symptoms before coming in contact with Geoff, she didn’t think it was flu.

What could it be except the result of her grief?

As soon as she returned to the States, she would need to find meaningful work and get on with her life. But right now the thought of making any decisions seemed too much for her.

She looked around. A few rabbits and squirrels scurried about, but the bigger animals were nowhere in sight. Maybe they’d ventured out at first light and were resting while they digested breakfast.

A short nap sounded like a good idea to her, too. Maybe she should go back to the château and come here later in the day. Even as the thought entered her head, she happened to notice something moving in the water toward her with the speed of a torpedo. Something long and sleek.

By the time she’d jumped to her feet in alarm, a dark head had risen from a cluster of lily pads in flower.

Her hand went to her throat. Lance!

While treading water he flashed her a white smile. “Good morning,” came that low voice in the heavy French accent she found so seductive.

Surrounded by the heads of pink and white water lilies, he made a picture of impossible male beauty. Appearing like this made him seem part of the enchantment of the place.

“I thought swimming across the lake would be the best way to announce I was coming. After our first meeting, the last thing I wanted to do was startle you again.”

Everything about him pulled the ground out from under her, but that was her problem, not his.

“You move like an animal and swim like a fish. If I see you fly, then I’m going to know Merlin haunts these woods.”

His blue eyes darkened with some emotion she didn’t understand. “Why not join me? I’ll show you one of the château’s secrets no one else knows about. You have to swim to it, but don’t worry. The lake’s not deep.”

Her heart lurched at the thought of being alone with him like this. “I’m afraid I didn’t bring a suit.”

“You have one now. Corinne, my father’s stepdaughter, keeps extras around for her girlfriends.” He tossed her a small plastic bag he’d been holding in his hand. It landed at her feet.

Andrea leaned over and opened it. Inside was a cherry-red bikini. She found it odd Lance hadn’t referred to Corinne as the woman he planned to marry. But since his personal life was none of her business, she kept quiet about it.

“There’s plenty of cover. Hurry and put it on. I’ll wait for you,” he said before vanishing beneath the lily pads.

However much he might not like it, she realized Lance was endeavoring to extend the olive branch. Geoff had wanted to show her around and must have put his son up to this. To refuse would be churlish of her.

If she said no, it would only prove she hadn’t forgiven him. In truth, considering his scathing view of women, he might think she’d read more into that angry kiss than punishment.

Forgetting her lethargy for the moment, she moved behind a pine tree and changed into the two-piece suit. It fit, but just barely.

Lured by the sense of adventure surrounding him despite his brooding air of cynicism, Andrea removed her sneakers and put them in a pile with her things, then walked down to the water’s edge. He waved to her from a short distance away.

With her heart pounding hard, she waded into the cold, still water and pushed off toward him. After a few strokes she recovered from the initial shock and discovered the temperature was invigorating.

His intent gaze beckoned her closer. “Follow me,” was all he said before swimming to the middle of the lake where he did an expert somersault into the depths.

With less grace Andrea imitated him, glad for her ponytail that prevented the hair from getting in her eyes. As soon as she reached him, he pointed to an object lying on the floor of the lake. She looked down.

Partially hidden among the plants lay a knight’s sword and shield. Fingers of sunlight illuminated their metallic outlines. In this underworld, anything seemed possible. Andrea wanted to stay longer and inspect them, but she was too out of shape and breath. She began to feel a little panicky.

Lance must have picked up on her alarm because he put his arms around her and they ascended to the surface together. Their swift rise made her somewhat dizzy. This time she clung to his powerful body in order to drink in air.

Unlike last time he didn’t thrust her away as if she’d been the one to initiate the contact.

“Are you all right?”

She felt his husky tone resonate throughout her body.

“Yes. Just a little winded for some reason.” Their bodies brushed against each other in a tangle of limbs. “Where did that sword and shield come from?”

“Years ago my father planted those to give me and my friends a thrill. We decided to leave them there.”

She smiled. “That sounds like Geoff. You were lucky to have such a wonderful father.”

As she’d spoken, her lips happened to graze the scar at the side of his neck. It ran from his collarbone into the black hair behind his ear. The bronze of his skin made it stand out a pinkish white.

“I hope the man who gave this to you isn’t in a position to hurt anyone again,” she whispered, afraid to touch it with her fingers in case it was sensitive.

His lids veiled his eyes. “What if I told you it was a woman?”

A female soldier?

The picture of Lance in mortal combat with a woman managed to disturb her in a whole slew of new and different ways. Any other thoughts went out of her head.

“It looks like a recent wound. D-does it hurt?” she stammered.

“No.”

“I’m glad.”

“Are you?” came the voice of skepticism.

“That you’re not in pain?” she blurted in exasperation. “Of course!”

Embarrassed by the intimate exchange and proximity of their bodies, she pushed away from him and began treading water on her own.

He moved closer. “After the way I treated you last night, you have every reason to despise me.”

“You’re right, but that was last night, and you said you were sorry. Let’s forget it, shall we? Your father is overjoyed you’ve come home. Some men and women don’t return from war, or if they do, they’ve lost limbs or—”

“Or other unspeakable things?” he mocked. “That’s true.” His shuttered eyes continued to search hers. “Unfortunately war isn’t the only place for losses to occur. How long were you married to your husband?”

“Six years.”

“You’re still so young.”

“Almost twenty-eight. Not quite the child you assumed was ingratiating herself to your father,” she reminded him.

He studied her in the dappled light. “No man would ever mistake you for a child. But I did think you were younger.”

“So I gathered earlier.”

“I guess you know you’ve made a conquest of my father.”

Lance didn’t believe in mincing words. He’d followed her to the lac for a definite reason.

Andrea decided to be blunt, too. “I take it you’re not happy about it.”

“No,” he answered in a morose tone.

One thing she could count on with him was his brutal honesty. “Give me through to tomorrow afternoon, then you’ll have him all to yourself.”

He trod water opposite her. “You know as well as I do he doesn’t want you to leave.”

“Geoff has his son back. That’s all he cares about.”

“Not all,” Lance muttered cryptically.

She shook her head to avoid a bee buzzing around her. “I’m aware he has great plans for you.”

Maybe it was a cloud blotting out the sun that threw his features into shadow.

“Do you know, you have the softest skin I’ve ever felt.”

The unexpected change in conversation had been spoken with such stark candor, white-hot heat spread through her body. She started to swim away from him, but he made a lazy circle around her.

“I’m the first man to kiss you since your husband, aren’t I?”

The heat of anger filled her cheeks. “Don’t worry. I’m not waiting for a repeat performance.”

Of course he didn’t believe her, but the slight hint of mockery etched in his expression was the last straw.

“Not every recent widow is desperate to jump into bed with the next available male. Not even when he’s as attractive as you are. Especially not with the emotional baggage you wear like a dark mantle.”

Without hesitation she struck out for the shore where she’d left her clothes. He matched her strokes though she knew he could have reached the edge long before she did.

Scrambling out of the water, she darted for the pine tree, anxious to cover herself. His eyes and personal remarks left her feeling exposed to the bone. Though he’d done nothing wrong, he’d touched a nerve. She was much too aware of him to be comfortable and he knew it!

Andrea hadn’t ever met a man like Lance. In her experience she’d only associated with her husband and his colleagues—teachers caught up in the pedantic world of legend and prose, far from the killing fields of war.

While her husband spent his life searching for stories of a famous knight’s adventures in times long past, Lance had been living one dangerous adventure after another in the present.

What was it like to fight hand to hand, let alone with someone of the opposite sex? Andrea couldn’t imagine it, yet Lance had returned from the battlefield with scars to prove he’d survived its atrocities by sheer guts and an indomitable will.

A life that could be snuffed out at any second had to change a man. Though she admired the heroic service Lance had rendered his country, Andrea’s instinct for self-preservation told her to keep her distance from him, even if he was Geoff’s son.

Or because of it …

After changing into trousers and a cotton top, she put the wet swimsuit in the bag. Once she’d reached for the camera, she left her hiding place, determined to avoid him until she left for the airport tomorrow afternoon. Geoff had assured her one of the staff would drive her when she was ready.

But she needn’t have been concerned. One glance at the lake and she realized Lance had disappeared. Now that he’d done his good deed by providing her a moment’s excitement where the famed Lancelot was concerned, he had more important things to accomplish.

All the way back to the château she told herself she was glad he’d gone. Besides being tired, it saved her from having to sidestep any more discussions about her vulnerability, never mind personal remarks about her skin. Those subjects were way out of bounds.

What she craved was sleep. During those unconscious hours she would be free of certain thoughts plaguing her since last evening.




CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_1f11c074-01b4-5549-b735-2d642c1dd6bd)


WITH a feeling of déjà vu, Lance knocked on Andrea’s door, but there was no answer. After leaving her at the lake yesterday, he’d gone into Rennes on business and hadn’t returned until late.

This morning his father felt well enough to ask if Andrea could join them for breakfast. But after trying to rouse her for the last few minutes, Lance decided she’d already left for the forest.

Andrea Fallon was one woman independent to a fault. The females of his past had shown a different tendency altogether.

He left the third floor for the kitchen, hoping one of the staff would enlighten him. After several inquiries, it turned out no one had seen her. Henri reminded him she was an early riser.

Frowning, Lance went down to his father’s room and told him he’d bring her back for lunch.

Not particularly hungry, he reached for an apple and left the château under an overcast sky. The elements portended rain. Being summer it wouldn’t last long, yet Andrea would be soaked if she got caught in it.

No telling where she’d wandered to this morning, but it didn’t matter. On horseback he could cover the grounds much faster in his search for her.

After reaching the stable, he climbed on Tonnerre. In case she was still waiting to spot an animal near a watering hole, he set out for the lake first.

In no time at all he’d circled it without seeing any sign of her. Perhaps she’d tried to find the fountain of youth his father had told her about, and she’d gotten lost.

Lance urged his horse on toward it.

Not finding her there, he rode swiftly to the top of a nearby hill overlooking the Val Sans Retour where his voice would carry.

It was just the place Andrea probably would have come to take pictures. Lance called to her. Again no response.

Maybe she hadn’t come to the forest at all. It was possible she’d walked to the village of Lyseaux, taking the main road.

As he rode his horse down the other side of the grassy slope, one raindrop then another began to spatter him. Intent on returning to the château for his car, he didn’t see a woman’s body curved on its side near the base until he was almost upon her.

Turning Tonnerre aside abruptly to avoid trampling her, Lance jumped down from his gelding and rushed over to her. One of the hooves had smashed her camera. He shuddered to think what damage might have been done if it had come six inches closer.

“Andrea—” he cried in alarm, getting down on his haunches. If she’d fallen and had hurt her neck or spine, he didn’t dare move her yet.

He heard moaning sounds. To his relief she turned on her back seemingly without a struggle, but she exhibited a pallor that told him she was ill.

“Lance—” she said his name on a shaky whisper. After the way they’d parted yesterday, she wouldn’t have responded like this unless she was in trouble.

His body helped shield her face from the rain, which had started to come down hard. “What happened to you?”

“During my walk I felt sick so I lay down, but it hasn’t passed yet. I think I must have the flu after all.”

“Then you’ve been ill before today?”

“Yes,” she admitted in a faint voice.

When he saw the beads of perspiration beading her hairline and brows, he swallowed hard. “You must have caught father’s bug. It’s a nasty one.”

Without hesitation he lifted her in his arms and carried her over to his horse. “I’m taking you to the doctor in Lyseaux. If you’re too ill to sit up against me, I’ll lay you across Tonnerre.”

She shook her head. “I—I can sit—I think—”

He knew she felt like death, but she hung in there long enough for him to climb on behind her.

“Just rest against me and let me do the work.” With one hand around her waist, he used the other to guide the horse.

The rhythm of the gallop molded their bodies together. After yesterday’s experience when he’d felt her rich curves, he’d longed to repeat the experience.

At the moment she lay helpless against him. Though he was worried for the reason that had put her in this state, he had to confess he enjoyed her needing him like this. After the way she’d lit up for him at the lake, he hadn’t expected to get this close to her again.

Once they reached the canopy of trees, they escaped the worst of the rain. Lance knew a shortcut that would bring them around the rear of the château where his car was parked.

“Am I going too fast for you?” he murmured into her fragrant hair. It smelled of apricots. She’d pulled it back like the day before.

“No,” came the half-moaned word.

That was good. He wanted her examined as soon as it was humanly possible.

Before long they came out of the woods onto the gravel. He led the horse to the passenger side of the car. Luckily the downpour had turned into drizzle.

In a quick movement Lance slid off Tonnerre. Carrying Andrea in his arms, he opened the door and put her inside. After lowering her seat so she could lie back, he shut the door.

With a pat to the horse’s rump, knowing it would return to the stable, Lance jumped in the driver’s seat and started up the engine.

Lyseaux was only four miles away. Andrea didn’t try to talk. Lance’s gut clenched at the thought of her lying out there in the rain all alone.

If he hadn’t been home, his father would have sent someone from the château to look for her. But under the circumstances Lance was glad he was the one who’d discovered her body lying there inert. The idea that someone unscrupulous might have come upon her didn’t bear thinking about.

He pressed on the accelerator, heading straight for the clinic. If the doctor said she needed to be in a hospital, he would drive her to Rennes.

The next few minutes became a blur of activity. As soon as the surprised receptionist saw him carrying Andrea through the main doors, she jumped up and showed him into one of the rooms down the hall. “I’ll get Dr. Semplis.”

“I don’t want anyone but Dr. Foucher looking at Andrea.”

“I’m sorry, monsieur, but today is Dr. Foucher’s day off.”

Lance muttered an imprecation. He didn’t know Dr. Semplis and hated the idea of a stranger taking care of her, but it couldn’t be helped. She needed immediate attention. “She’s very ill.”

“Dr. Semplis will be right in.”

At the sound of the woman’s voice, Andrea’s eyes opened. Lance looked into them as he lowered her onto the examining table. “Help is coming, chérie.“ The endearment came out unsolicited from someplace deep inside, surprising the hell out of him. “We’re at the doctor’s office.”

“Thank you,” she murmured.

It sounded heartfelt, which meant she was even sicker than he realized, otherwise she wouldn’t be speaking to him.

Soon after the receptionist left, a nurse entered the room. “If you’d please step out, monsieur.“

The last thing Lance wanted to do was leave, but he had no choice. “If you need me, I’ll be right outside the door, Andrea.”

She gave a barely perceptible nod before her eyes closed again.

The last time he’d left a wounded buddy at the field hospital in a near unconscious condition, the poor devil had never recovered. It was the stuff that had made up part of Lance’s nightmares for the last ten years.

He drew in a ragged breath and exited the room. While he waited in the hall, he drew the cell phone out of his jeans’ pocket and phoned the stable.

After learning that Tonnerre had returned safely, Lance phoned his father and told him he and Andrea had decided to drive to Lyseaux before coming back to the château. They’d all have lunch together another day.

His father seemed fine with it, particularly since a good friend of his had dropped by.

Lance told him he’d see him at dinner and hung up, relieved his parent was still in the dark about Andrea. Now that he was rallying from his bout with pneumonia, Lance didn’t want any setbacks.

His main concern was to find out what was wrong with Andrea and make certain she recovered. For some inexplicable reason he felt responsible for her. He grimaced to think about anything that could have put her life in jeopardy.

“Monsieur?” Lance wheeled around to see a younger doctor coming down the hall. “I’m Dr. Semplis.”

“Grâce à Dieu someone’s on duty! Andrea became ill in the forest. She couldn’t sit up, let alone walk out on her own. I had to carry her in; I think it could be flu.”

The other man eyed him curiously. “I won’t have any idea until I examine her, but don’t worry. We’ll know soon enough. Why don’t you take a seat out in reception.”

“I’m staying here,” he declared.

“Suit yourself, but it could be a long wait.”

His jaw hardened. “So be it.”

Andrea drifted in and out of sleep, haunted by dreams of Lancelot braving the elements to carry her to safety on his marvelous steed.

In her waking moments the doctor told her she was dehydrated. He’d ordered an IV. Soon a lab technician drew her blood.

She fell asleep again. Later she became aware of Lance’s presence. He’d pulled up a chair next to the examining table.

Other than asking her if he could do anything for her, he didn’t force her to talk. By his brooding silence however, she could tell something serious was on his mind.

Even if Geoff had prevailed on Lance to stay with her, she found it rather touching that such a fierce, dominant male who probably hated confinement like this more than most people, was keeping a constant vigil at her side.

It made her feel guilty that instead of being with his father who needed him, Lance had to worry about her.

She felt a little stronger and turned her head to look at him. “I should have gone home yesterday.”

He leaned forward, eyeing her narrowly. “To what? An empty house full of memories?”

“A condo,” she corrected him, wondering at his savage tone.

“Who would take care of you?”

“I have a friend, who’s the wife of one of my husband’s colleagues.”

“No family?”

“When my parents were killed, my mother’s sister Aunt Kathy and her husband Rob raised me along with their two daughters. They still live in New Haven, but they’re very busy. I wouldn’t want to bother them, not after everything they’ve done for me.”

Lines darkened his handsome face. “Then let’s be thankful you remained here. You could have collapsed on the flight over.”

Since the possibility was patently true, Andrea couldn’t deny it. “I’m sorry to take you away from your father.”

“He’s on the mend. You’re the one I’m worried about.” She saw that his hands had formed fists. “I can’t figure out what’s taking the doctor so damn long to give you a diagnosis. Dr. Foucher should have been here.”

“I think you’ve been on the battlefield too long where everything happens fast, and decisions have to be made in a split second. Things go more slowly back in civilization.”

He rubbed the back of his bronzed neck. “You’re right.” His probing gaze roved over her features. “There’s more color in your cheeks.”

“I’m feeling a little better. Must be the IV.”

“Dieu merci.”

“I’d like to tell you something,” she whispered.

A stillness seemed to envelop him. “Go ahead.”

“You redeemed yourself today.”

“I thought there was no redemption,” his voice grated.

“I was wrong. You rescued a damsel in distress. That’s what heroes do, even if their crown has slipped.”

“I never had one,” he bit out in what sounded like self-abnegation. “You’re imagining things.”

“No. I’m awake, and I was with you when it happened. No one, and I mean no one else could have pulled off what you did unless his name was Lancelot Du Lac. I must confess I’m in awe of you.”

“All right, Andrea—” The doctor swept in the room, bringing Lance to his feet. “I finally have confirmation of what’s wrong with both of you.”

“Both?” Andrea’s anxious gaze flew to Lance’s. “Are you ill and you didn’t tell me?”

Dr. Semplis laughed. “You’re going to have a baby, maman.” He turned to Lance. “Congratulations, papa.”

“A baby?”

“But that’s impossible!” Andrea cried, trying to sit up. “I mean I can’t be pregnant!”

“I’m afraid you are,” the doctor interjected before she could say anything else. “Twelve weeks along in fact.”

“Twelve—” Her cry resounded in the tiny room.

The doctor eyed both of them with amusement. “I’m surprised neither of you recognized the symptoms. Under the circumstances I’ll leave you two alone for a minute, then I’ll be back in to talk to you.”

“Wait—”

“Thank you, Dr. Semplis,” Lance said, taking charge as if he was used to dealing with her. He put his strong hands on her shoulders to ease her back. “We do need some private time.”

The door clicked shut.

Overwhelmed by emotions bombarding her, Andrea broke down sobbing. Once she got started, she couldn’t stop.

Lance said her name in alarm several times and handed her a box of tissues. “Andrea … tell me what’s going on,” her urged.

“You wouldn’t understand.” The words came out in another gush of tears. How could he when she could hardly comprehend it herself.

“You said it was impossible. Does that mean your husband isn’t the father?”

Her breath caught. “No—Yes—I mean I’ve never been with another man, so it has to be my husband’s. But I was told it would take a miracle.”

“Why?” he demanded softly. His hands were kneading her upper arms, but he didn’t seem to be aware of it.

She raised drenched brown eyes to him. “Because I went through premature menopause several years ago, ruling out pregnancy. It happens in a certain small percentage of women. My specialist told me that in my case, the chances of ovulating were so astronomical, I should never count on conceiving a child.”

Andrea wondered if a trick of light was the reason his eyes suddenly darkened.

“She’s been helping me experiment with herbs and hormone therapy to keep my heart healthy. I assumed the physical changes to my body were a result of the hormones. My hands have been so swollen, I left my rings at home.”

“So that’s the explanation,” Lance murmured.

She nodded. “Since Richard’s death I’ve been more tired than usual, and have experienced quite a bit of nausea. But I thought the symptoms had to be the fault of depression and the hormones.

“To think I’m almost through my first trimester of pregnancy and didn’t know it! I—I’m in shock.”

She looked at him through blurry eyes. “Oh, Lance—Richard wanted a baby so badly. Now he’s gone, and he’ll never know our child or be able to help me raise it.”

He remained silent while another explosion of tears poured out of her, more profuse than before. When they finally subsided she said, “In the beginning we had such plans for a family. He was an only child. We wanted two or three so they could be friends. It’s wonderful when siblings have each other.

“Then we found out I couldn’t have any. We were both devastated. I—I wanted to have his baby. Once we heard the awful news, he was so crushed,” she said on another sob.

“When I buried him, I thought it was the end of everything. I came to France so empty, and now—”

“Now everything’s different,” he murmured in a thick-toned voice. She felt him rub the arm that didn’t have the drip in it.

Andrea wiped her eyes. “Except that my baby will grow up without its father. I was deprived of both my parents. I—I can hardly bear to think of history repeating itself. Every child needs a daddy.

“Why did Richard have to die—” Her sorrowful wail rang in the room.

Wordlessly Lance put his arm around her back. She found herself sobbing against his broad shoulder. After a time she realized she was getting him all wet and pulled away embarrassed.

She reached for some tissues and sniffed. “I’m sorry for breaking down like this. You must think I’m insane.”

“I think Richard was a damn lucky man. With you as his child’s mother, his legacy will be carried on. Maybe there’s a future professor growing inside you. Do those motherly instincts tell you if it’s a boy or a girl?”

“What instincts?” she challenged, clearing her throat. “I didn’t even know a baby was living inside me until a few minutes ago. I still can’t believe I’m pregnant!”

“Thank God the diagnosis is one of joy,” Lance exclaimed. “When you were lying there in the grass so ill, too many negative thoughts ran through my mind.”

“I was frightened, too.” Her eyes glazed over with fresh tears. “Thank you again for helping me. I–I’m sorry the doctor assumed you were the father. When he comes back in I’ll explain.”

A half smile broke the corner of Lance’s sensual mouth. “Hearing the news with you made me feel like I’m the father. It’s an experience I wouldn’t have missed. Do you know my heart leaped when he told us?”

She bit her lip. “So did mine.”

His expression sobered. “If I’d realized you were pregnant, I wouldn’t have asked you to follow me to my underwater treasure yesterday.”

Andrea recalled the experience, particularly the moment when he’d clasped her body against his to take her to the surface. The baby had been pressed against his hard muscled physique.

“It was a unique experience,” she admitted softly. “Someday when my child is old enough to swim on his own, I’ll have to bring him to France so he can dive in the lake and discover its secrets for himself.”

“So you’re thinking a boy.” Lance flashed her another rare half smile that transformed his features and made her heart kick.

“I guess I am.”

“Wait another month and we’ll find out if you’re right about the gender,” the doctor inserted.

Andrea hadn’t heard him come in the room.

“I knocked, but you two didn’t hear me. Would you like to listen to the heartbeat?”

He put on his stethoscope and found the spot on Andrea’s stomach, then let her listen. It sounded like horse’s hooves galloping across the prairie.

“I don’t believe it.” All this time her child had been growing inside her and she hadn’t been aware of it.

“Your baby’s approximately three and half inches long, and is developing nicely.”

Lance reached for the stethoscope so he could listen. A slow smile broke the corner of his mouth, once again accentuating his striking features. When he relinquished the instrument, his gaze still clung to hers.

“After not knowing what was wrong with her earlier, Doctor, your news has made me a very happy man.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

Heat crept into Andrea’s face. She looked over at the doctor. “There’s something you need to know. You’ve misunderstood the situation. I’m a guest at the Château Du Lac. Monsieur Du Lac isn’t my husband.”

He wrapped her arm to take her blood pressure. “What’s stopping you two from getting married?”

“You don’t understand. The baby isn’t his.”

The doctor did a double-take. “Then the birth father should be told.”

“I can’t tell him.” Her voice trembled. “On the morning I must have conceived this baby, my husband left for work. By evening he’d died of a brain aneurysm. That was three months ago.”

“Andrea …”

The compassion in Lance’s tone caused her eyes to close.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” the doctor said, “however he’s left you with a marvelous legacy.”

Lance’s exact words.

“I know, but I can hardly take it in.”

“Miracles tend to affect a person that way. I’m pleased to announce you’re a healthy woman. If you’ll start the nausea medicine I’ve prescribed, you should be feeling much better before long. Take them three times a day before meals. Pick it up at the front desk.

“I’ve also written an order for vitamins, which you need to start taking. I want to see you in a week to make certain all is going well. We’ll do another blood test in case you’re still a little low on iron.”

“I’ll be returning to the United States in the next few days, so let me thank you now for all your help.”

“In that case, be certain to get in touch with your doctor immediately.”

“I will.”

He paused at the door. “You can leave as soon as the nurse takes out your IV. Remember to stay hydrated, eat whatever appeals and get plenty of rest over the next couple of days.”

“She’ll do it,” Lance proclaimed. Andrea tried to hide her smile. He couldn’t help who he was, but she didn’t mind.

Once the doctor had left the room the nurse came in, preventing Andrea from talking to Lance until the other woman had removed the needle and had gone.

Without being told anything, Lance opened the cupboard and pulled out the sack containing her clothes. He turned to her. “Do you need help getting dressed? I can ask her to come in again.”

“No. I’m able to manage, but thank you anyway.”

His gaze played over her with concern. “Then I’ll see you at the front desk.”

After Lance closed the door, she removed the clinic gown and felt her stomach, which had filled out and was hard. Why hadn’t she realized a baby was growing inside her?

When her jeans were too tight, she should have guessed at the reason, even if the specialist had told her getting pregnant would require a near miracle.

Over the last few years Andrea had given up all hope of having a child from her own body. The news that she was pregnant was fantastic!

At the moment she felt suspended between two worlds where nothing seemed real, yet the proof was there she was carrying Richard’s baby. To her consternation however it was Lance Malbois who’d first heard the news with her. If it weren’t for him, she could still be lying there in the forest too sick to move.

How would she ever forget it was his eyes that had flickered at the incredible news, almost as if he’d been the one to father her baby and was pleased about it. Even the doctor had thought they were a couple.

Andrea couldn’t understand Lance’s reaction. She meant nothing to him beyond being his father’s guest. Yet that was probably the reason why. He felt responsible for her. Under the circumstances she’d be wise to leave France as soon as she felt well enough for the flight home.

Knowing she would be a mother in six short months changed the way she felt about returning to New Haven. Maybe she could work part-time for her old boss at the photography studio. If not, maybe the literature department at the university could use her services. The rest of the time she would start getting a nursery ready for her baby.

So many things needed to be bought. A crib, a playpen, one of those adorable little swings, a stroller … All the items available for modern day mothers. Now she would be a mom, too!

Whether it was a boy or girl didn’t matter. She loved her baby already. The knowledge she was carrying a life inside her filled that empty place in her heart.

Though she would always be grateful for her aunt and uncle who’d raised her with their children after her parents died, she’d never really belonged to them. To think she would have a child of her own to love and cherish.

After the baby came, she would make the small amount of insurance money left to her stretch so she could be a stay-at-home mom. Through her various university contacts, maybe she could arrange to do word processing at the condo to bring in some income.

A fatal car accident had deprived her of her parents, and now a blood clot had taken the life of her baby’s father. Andrea was determined to be there for her child and not miss a minute of its upbringing if she could help it.

If the nausea medicine worked the way it was supposed to, she’d be feeling well enough again in a few days to fly home and get busy. With a new sense of purpose in her life, she felt able to cope with her physical state.

Once she’d finished dressing, she made a stop to the rest room, then hurried out to the reception area. Lance stood in the crowded waiting room near the door. His hard-boned face and physique drew the eye of every woman including the medical staff. In thigh molding jeans and a black pullover, he was the most spectacular looking male Andrea had ever seen.

She could feel their envy as she approached him. “Do you have the prescriptions?”

His concerned eyes intently took in her features with an intimacy that made her heart race. “Yes. Shall we go?” He opened the door for her and escorted her outside to his car.

Without saying anything, he helped her in the passenger seat, then walked around to the driver’s side and took off for the pharmacy in the center of the village.

“Stay where you are,” he ordered. “I’ll be right back.”

Long before he’d gone into the military, Andrea was in no doubt Lance Malbois had been a man meant to be in charge. His service there had only refined those instincts, protective and otherwise. Right now she wasn’t complaining.

He’d come across her in the forest and—in his unorthodox way—had seen to her needs faster than she’d been able to breathe. If she had to choose one person in this world to help her survive a difficult situation, she’d choose Lance, no questions asked.

This Frenchman more than lived up to his legendary name, which had to be unique among men. In fact Andrea had a feeling the military couldn’t have been happy to learn he was retiring. Not so for the woman planning to marry him.

Andrea could understand a stepdaughter who was no blood relation being infatuated by Geoff’s son. As Andrea was coming to find out, there was no man to compare to him.

In a few minutes he’d rejoined her. “Here.” He undid the cap and handed her a pill. “You’re to take this now with water.” He produced a bottle of mineral water. “The vitamins you can start tonight so they won’t upset your stomach.”

“Yes, Doctor,” she teased before swallowing the medicine. “That water tastes good. Thank you.” She put the pill vials in her purse.

His darkly lashed eyes met her gaze. Their faces were only inches apart. “Let’s hope your appetite improves by tomorrow. Before we drive home, is there anything you need to buy?”

Andrea averted her eyes. “I can’t think of anything.”

“I can. A new camera. Tonnerre’s hoof smashed yours. After I get you settled, I’ll take a trip into town and purchase a new one. I’m afraid the film was ruined.”

“Don’t worry about it, Lance. I put in a new cartridge this morning, so no pictures are lost. As for the camera, I don’t need another one right now. I’ll wait till I get home and arrange to buy one through my old boss. He’ll get me something wholesale.”

Lance started the car and they took off for the château. Since the downpour earlier, the greenery bordering the road looked wet and fresh. He drove with an economy of movement.

“Where did you work?”

“At a photography studio.”

“Did you like it?”

“As jobs go, it was fine. I started working there part-time during my high school days. After graduation I increased my hours to full-time to save money for college.”

“Did you attend Yale like your husband?”

It appeared Geoff and Lance had been talking.

“Oh, no,” she scoffed. “I was a mediocre student and couldn’t have afforded it. I took a few night classes at a local college before meeting Richard. After that I sort of became his unofficial assistant.”

“And wife,” Lance interjected.

She nodded. “Yes.”

“No more school?”

“No. One day I’ll go for a degree in something, but now that a baby is on the way, that will have to wait until my child is in school full-time.”

“In other words, you don’t plan to let someone else raise it.”

“There are jobs I can do at home. I’ll try anything in order to be there for my son or daughter,” she vowed.

“That sounds final.”

“It’s the way I feel.”

She heard him take a deep breath. “Then your child will be lucky. Until the day she died my mother was always there for me.”

“Geoff told me she passed away while you were at the university.”

He slowed down to negotiate the turn into the Du Lac estate. “That’s right. Looking back I had an idyllic upbringing.” His head suddenly turned toward her. “How early did you lose your parents?”

“At four years of age. Pictures are the only things I have to remember them. Knowing I’m going to be a mother makes that my first priority, no matter what it takes.”

“At the moment it requires bed rest.” He brought the car to a halt and levered his long legs from the front seat to help her.

She could have managed on her own, but he cupped her elbow to assist her inside. The minute they reached the foyer, she found herself in his arms once more. Her ponytail swung back and forth.

“You don’t have to do this,” she protested, but he ignored her cry and carried her up the two flights of stairs as if she were light as air.




CHAPTER FOUR (#ulink_1324d77c-8cf7-5050-8545-1fe15bcc1e7a)


LANCE opened the door of her suite, not releasing her until he’d laid her on the bed. To her relief she didn’t think any of the staff had seen them.

His eyes bored into hers. “Don’t you dare lift a finger. I’ll be back in a little while and bring you a dinner tray. You can take your vitamins then.” He acted more worried than a mother hen with her chick. After their stormy beginning, she would never have guessed Lance had this side to him.

“I don’t need waiting on.”

“I beg to differ.” His mouth was so close she could feel his breath on her lips before he stood up. “Defy me at your own peril.”

Lance was a force she had no desire to contend with at the moment. She spread her hands apart. “All right. But please don’t say anything to Geoff. He shouldn’t have any worries.”

“Agreed,” Lance murmured before disappearing from the room.

The moment the door closed she got up and hurried into the bathroom. After getting caught in the rain, and then being examined at the clinic, she needed to shower and wash her hair.

Once that was accomplished, she toweled herself and left her hair loose so it would dry faster. She put on a clean yellow nightgown and matching fleece robe. When she climbed back into bed, it felt good.

She’d barely nestled under the covers when the door opened and she saw Lance walk in carrying a tray in one hand, and a bunch of magazines in the other.

Through narrowed lids she noticed he’d showered, too. He wore a silk shirt in a dark coffee shade and tan trousers. Whether he donned formal clothes or military khaki, he was so attractive she found she couldn’t take her eyes off him.

As he crossed the distance and started to lower the tray to the bedside table, she glimpsed one of the life-size wall paintings of Lancelot directly behind him. The handsome knight was leaning over the queen in their bedchamber, as if he’d just come in from hunting and was eager to taste her mouth before joining her.

The gorgeous man waiting on Andrea was in much the same position. In that instant she couldn’t separate the two pictures in her mind. The pulse at her throat began to throb a wild crescendo.

Lance must have noticed her reaction because his wandering eyes focused on that telling spot for a breathless moment before they continued their slow, intimate journey to her face.

Heat swept through her body to her cheeks. Their gazes fused.

“How are you feeling now?” His voice resonated deep inside her.

She inhaled unsteadily. “I—I’m fine.”

“Fine enough to try and eat something?”

Andrea looked over at the magazines and tray he’d put next to her pills. He’d brought hot tea, broth, apple slices, grape juice, water and a roll. She had an idea he’d picked everything out himself. Though she wasn’t hungry, she didn’t want him to think she was ungrateful, so she reached for an apple slice and began munching.

The gesture seemed to please him. He moved away. She thought he intended to leave. Instead he reached for an upholstered chair and brought it over to her bedside before sitting down to drink a cup of the steaming brew.

Lounging back with one long leg crossed over the other at the ankles, he looked the epitome of the French aristocrat relaxing at home in luxurious surroundings. A far cry from the man in camouflage who’d moved through the forest with the stealth of a savage cat. Yet both made up part of the same fascinating man standing attendance on her.

“Good? Bad?” he asked, reminding her of the fruit she’d just swallowed.

“Good actually. I’m surprised.” She reached for another slice. “You make an excellent nurse.” He was a man of many talents. “I’m sorry you returned home from war to discover you have two patients to wait on.”

He stared at her over the rim of the cup. “Since both are improving, I have no complaints.”

She reached for the glass of grape juice and took a sip. “Have you talked to your father since we got back from the clinic?”

“Yes. Because he had a visitor today, I told him I thought he should have a quiet evening. Tomorrow will be soon enough for you to join him for lunch. He agreed with one stipulation.”

“What was that?”

“He expects me to keep you entertained.” Her heart raced for no good reason. “I told him it wasn’t a hardship.”

“Your father’s a wonder.”

“I’ll keep him,” Lance said in a thick-toned voice.

She nodded. “I would, too. I’ve never met anyone as warm and kind. He said your mother was the same way.”

He put his empty cup on the tray. Lines darkened his face. “At this point you’re wondering how they could have produced a defect like me.”

Her breath caught. “Defect?”

“You don’t need to pretend. I saw the shock on your face when you discovered I was his son.”

She sat up in the bed. “If I registered that emotion, it was because I realized your experiences in the military had to account for your treating me like I was the enemy.”

“I’m afraid certain experiences in my life have caused me to distrust women. In that regard Papa and I are at opposite ends of the spectrum.”

“I have proof of that.” Andrea studied him for a moment. “What did you think I was doing in the forest the other night?”

His eyes flickered. “To be honest, I forgot I wasn’t on a mission. My automatic response was to render you helpless and either kill you or send you on your way depending on my gut feeling.”

She shivered. “What did your instincts tell you?”

A frown marred his features. “When you stood your ground, I realized I’d turned into some kind of monster.”

“Ten years in the elite force would change anyone, especially since you suspected me of ulterior motives where your father was concerned.”

After a strange silence, “Are you afraid of me, Andrea?” he drawled silkily.

Wishing she hadn’t spoken her mind, she reached for the roll and took a bite. “How could you ask me that when you were the one who rescued me today?

“If I didn’t make myself clear, let me do it now. I’m very grateful for your help, but you won’t have to worry about me much longer. After tomorrow I should be feeling well enough to fly home.”

His expression remained inscrutable. “Even if that’s true, my father wouldn’t hear of it. He’s been sick the whole time you’ve been at the château. I’m afraid you’ll have to stay on for a while.

“As soon as he’s well enough to walk around again, Papa plans to delight you with a special tour of the grounds. The experience will give you the opportunity to take more pictures to add to your husband’s book. That is why you came, n’est-ce pas?“

She lowered her eyes. “Yes, but—”

“No buts. The matter’s settled. While you recover your appetite, the doctor told you to get plenty of bed rest and drink fluids. I’m here to see that you do.”

In one lithe movement he got to his feet. “If you need anything, all you have to do is pick up the phone and press two. I’ll answer.” He continued looking at her. “Let’s hope the little you’ve eaten makes you feel better. I’ll be in later to say good-night.”

She sensed his disinclination to leave. “I’ll be fine. Thank you for everything.”

He pursed his lips. “I don’t want to come back and find you lying on the floor.”

“If I feel that weak, I promise to let you know.”

“See that you do,” came the grim rejoinder before he left.

Feeling oddly bereft after his departure, she reached for one of the magazines to keep her mind occupied. It was full of articles on European architecture. Though printed in French, she didn’t require a translation to digest the fabulous photographs.

However nothing she saw equaled the magnificence of the Château Du Lac. Or Lance himself …

Her thoughts wandered back to his comments at the clinic. Hearing the news with you made me feel like I’m the father. It’s an experience I wouldn’t have missed.

He’d sounded like he’d really meant it. What an incredible man …

After putting the magazine back on the table, her gaze traveled to the wall paintings. Guinevere seemed exactly the same as before. But this time when she studied Lancelot, it was Lance Malbois’s face and body she saw everywhere she looked. The way his eyes adored the queen filled Andrea with a strange envy.

For the first time she found herself curious about Lance’s stepsister. Did she elicit that same kind of worship from him?

The Galerie Bouffard in Rennes stayed open until nine-thirty on Thursday nights. Lance made his way through the crowded store from the book section to the camera department.

After explaining what he needed to the employee, the man showed him several upgrades of the camera Andrea had been using. It didn’t take Lance long to choose something state-of-the-art to replace the one his horse had smashed to pieces.

He included a pack of film with his purchase, then asked for directions to the infant department. He’d never shopped for baby clothes in his life, but learning Andrea was expecting made him want to do something to help her celebrate. Since he didn’t know if she was carrying a boy or girl, he decided to stick with white and yellow, both safe colors, the assistant had assured him.

By the time the young female employee had shown him everything, he left the store with half a dozen little outfits and two baby blankets in those colors, a baby book and a Fifi the poodle-in-the-box that played a French tune, all gift wrapped. Among the ribbons the clerk tied three rattles he’d picked out.

As she handed him the bag of packages, she winked at him. “Your new baby’s lucky to have a father like you.”

She’d made a wrong assumption, but he liked the sound of it. “I’m the one who’s lucky.”

“Don’t be a stranger now. Babies grow.”

They did indeed. Lance found himself looking forward to watching Andrea blossom. During that moment in the lake when he’d helped her to the surface, he’d felt a quickening as the rich contours of her body pressed against him. Her imprint still lingered, causing him to think thoughts he hadn’t entertained for a long time.

“Merci, mademoiselle.”

After emerging from the ascenseur, he made his way to the main doors of the store.

“Eh bien, if it isn’t Lance Malbois, you handsome devil. Geoff didn’t tell anyone you were home on leave.”

He looked back over his shoulder to discover Helene Dupuis, the wife of his father’s best friend. She was a good person, but a gossip. Lance had hoped to keep his homecoming a secret for a while, but bumping into her had dashed that idea.

“Bonsoir, Helene. Comment ça va?”

“I’m very well, and I have to tell you I’m thrilled to see you are, too. Geoff worries about you. It’s no wonder he’s been so sick even Yves and I have been barred from dropping in,” she chided.

Henri knew what he was doing. Though she meant well, a visit from Helene would have been too exhausting. “He’s getting better now. By next week he’ll want to see both of you.”

“Yves will be delighted to hear it. How long can we expect you to remain this time?”

Lance decided to tell the truth since it would come out anyway. “I’ve retired from the service.”

“You’re home for good?”

“Oui.”

Her eyes lit up. “Oh—I must give a party!”

He shook his head. “That’s very nice of you, but no parties. I have too much work ahead. Now if you’ll excuse me. Papa’s waiting.”

“But of course. You go to him, and we’ll see you soon.”

“À bientôt, Helene.”

“I know someone else who’s going to be ecstatic at the news you’re home,” she called after him. But he pretended not to hear as he strode around the corner to his car. Corinne was like all unpleasant things one had to deal with on occasion.

As he was putting his packages on the passenger seat, the streetlight reflected in one of the baby rattles. It drew his thoughts back to Andrea who might or might not be asleep when he returned. He hoped she was still awake since he was eager to see her reaction when she opened her presents.

He couldn’t get back to the château soon enough, and raced up the stairs to the third floor two at a time.

When the housekeeper came in at eight to take away the dinner tray, she brought a small, battery operated radio for Andrea.

“Lance said you were tired. Since this room hasn’t been wired for television, he thought you might like to listen to some music from his transistor,” she explained before setting it on the bedside table.

Lance thought of everything. Had he told the staff she was pregnant? If so, Brigitte was being discreet. She was also amazing. Andrea would give anything to speak French the way the older woman spoke English.

“That was very thoughtful of both of you. By the way, how is Geoff tonight?”

“Doing better than yesterday.”

“I’m relieved to hear it.”

“If you need me, call me on four.”

“I will. Merci.“ It was one of the basic words Andrea had picked up so far.

After a few minutes of playing around with the radio, she found a music station and lay back against the pillow to listen. It was fun to hear songs sung in French, even if she didn’t understand the words.

While she studied the paintings on the walls, she smiled to herself, remembering Lance’s tenderness at the doctor’s.

Deep in thought over the revelations of this day, she lost track of time. When she heard a knock on the door, she was surprised to see that her watch said nine forty-five. The idea that it might be Lance on the other side caused her pulse to speed up.

“Come in.”

Her breath caught the second their eyes met for an intense moment.

“How are you feeling?”

“Good.”

“The truth,” he commanded.

“I honestly feel better. If you want proof, ask Brigitte. She came for my tray and will tell you I ate all my roll and drank half the juice. So far I’ve kept it down.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

After shutting the door, he walked toward her carrying several shopping bags and handed her the smaller one.

“Go ahead and look inside. If it isn’t what you want, I’ll return it.”

Intrigued, Andrea sat up against the carved headboard and reached inside to discover a new camera and film. He’d already been to town for one! She couldn’t believe it.

“You didn’t need to do this,” she said, pulling it out of its box. There were instructions in four languages including English. She examined all the features. “This is perfect, but it’s much more expensive than mine.”

“As long as it works for you, that’s all Tonnerre cares about.”

She laughed gently. “That was very generous of him. Please thank your horse for me, Lance.”

His compelling mouth lifted at one corner. “I’ll be sure to do that.”

“What does his name mean in English? I’m curious.”

“Thunder.”

She smiled. “How apropos.”

He sat down in the chair he’d pulled up earlier and handed her the bigger bag. “This is from me.”

Andrea shook her head. “I can’t accept any more gifts.”

“These aren’t for you. Not exactly.”

Just as he spoke, she saw a rattle entwined in ribbon peeking at her. Letting out a small cry of delight she lifted her head. “What have you done?”

“What any excited father-to-be would do upon hearing the news he’d made his wife pregnant.”

Lance’s words shouldn’t have caused her to tremble, but they did …

To cover her emotions, she reached inside and pulled out box after box wrapped in white paper dotted with adorable little baby faces. Before long she’d opened everything and sat half buried in cuddly newborn outfits and soft blankets.

Beads of tears glistened on her lashes while she looked through the baby book. He’d brought several books in English about becoming a parent. She was so overcome by the gifts, tears spilled from her eyes. Within seconds she was convulsed.

“What’s the matter, Andrea?” his voice rasped. “Have I done something to upset you?”

“Oh, no, Lance—” She lifted her moisture-drenched face to see the deep concern in his eyes. “Anything but. It just hurts to realize Richard won’t be here to do these kinds of things for the baby. He’ll have missed the whole experience, and our child will never know him.

“I can’t believe the timing of everything—” she cried out. “He should be here to help me! It doesn’t seem possible he’s not going to be around to be a father to our baby. How unfair that he was taken before he could experience the joy of even knowing he was going to be a dad.

“I know how I felt when I realized my parents had died and I would grow up never knowing them. It’s so cruel to an innocent child. I don’t want my son or daughter to grow up without their father.”

The tears kept coming. She felt like a bottomless geyser. “Forgive me, Lance. I didn’t mean to fall apart like this in front of you. You’ve been so good to me and have made this day so special.

“Look at all these darling clothes you took the time to purchase. And yet how sad it is that Richard couldn’t have been the one to do it. It’s what he would have wanted to do.” She shook her head. “Why is life so hard?”

Andrea tried to undo the other package he’d put on the bed, but she was having trouble. Lance must have become impatient because he reached over and finished opening the toy he’d bought for her. Out of the box bounced a French poodle. It played a tune but she couldn’t hear it for the radio, so she leaned over to shut it off.

He pushed the button again and the cute white dog jumped out, accompanied by the tune “Alouette.”

She smiled sadly as tears dripped off her chin. “I know that song. It’s probably the only thing I can sing in French.”

“Prove it,” he challenged her in that deep voice of his. She knew he’d said it to try to cheer her up. After all the trouble he’d gone to, she didn’t want to disappoint him.

Andrea shut the lid, then pushed the button once more and sang along. “My accent’s horrible,” she said when she’d finished.

His gaze had narrowed on her mouth. “I found it charming.”

Her heart was pounding too fast. “Lance—You’ve overwhelmed me with these gifts.”

“That was my intention.” He got to his feet. “Now do my father a favor and stay at the château for as long as you like. I understand you want to honor Richard’s memory with this book. I’d like to do all I can to help in order to atone for my sins.”

“You’ve already done that,” she whispered.

His body stiffened. “I’m aware how much you loved your husband. No matter how you deny it, I said and did things to hurt you, unaware of your grief. Let me try to make it up to you.”

For Lance to plead had to be a rare occurrence. Yet the longer she stayed here, the more she would be around Geoff’s arresting son. She didn’t need that complication in her life, especially when she was expecting Richard’s baby.

“Have you told your father I’m pregnant?”

“That’s not my place.” After a tension filled moment he said, “The doctor said you needed rest. Be honest. Nothing pressing requires you to get back to Connecticut right away.”

“No,” she murmured.

“Then the matter’s settled.” Before she could take her next breath he put the gifts he’d bought back in the bags and set them at the end of the bed. Then he handed her the pills and glass of water left on the table.

After she’d taken one he said, “What else can I get for you?”

“Nothing. You’ve done far too much already. I need to thank you for the radio. It has kept me company.”

He nodded. “When I need a distraction, I prefer it to television even now that I’m out of the service. However I could have you moved to the second floor if you’re missing TV.”

“Oh, no. I wouldn’t understand it anyway. I much prefer being in this room where I can study all the paintings.”

He flashed her a glance she couldn’t decipher. “Can you guess which of them is my favorite?”

She knew which one she loved the most. It was the painting of Lancelot leaning over the queen in the bedchamber, a look of love and desire burning in his eyes. Her gaze went back to it again and again.

“Since you rode your horse as if it were a part of you, I presume you like the one where Guinevere is riding through the forest with Lancelot.” The queen lay in the crook of his arm and stroked his chin while her eyes devoured him.

Lance cocked his dark, handsome head. “You’re close. I’d rate that second. Think about it some more and tell me later.”

She wished he hadn’t put the thought in her mind. Now she’d spend the rest of the night trying to imagine which scene spoke to him at his deepest level.

It was probably the one where Lancelot lay on his back in a flowering meadow. He’d removed his armor. Guinevere was leaning over him, tickling him with a long pheasant feather from her cap. They were both smiling at each other, as if they didn’t have a care in the world.

Lance Malbois had so many cares he kept to himself, Andrea assumed he would love that painting best. It represented a moment out of time where Lancelot could forget the world and love this woman of his heart without strife or fear of being caught out by the other knights.

Aware he was still standing there she said, “Before you go, let me thank you again for the presents. They’re so lovely, I’ll never forget.”

“I’m glad you like them.”

“One day you’ll make a wonderful father for some lucky child.”

“No.” He shook his head.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Lance.”

When she looked up at him, she glimpsed a bleakness in his eyes. After a tension-filled moment she heard him say, “Would it help if I told you life hasn’t been fair to me, either?”

Her gaze flew to his scar. “If you’re referring to your injury, in my opinion it adds to your attraction and makes you more interesting. Ask any woman and she’ll tell you the same thing.”

“That’s always nice to hear,” he said dryly, “but I’m referring to another one.”

She bit her lip. “You have more than the scar?” her voice shook.

“Sometimes the wounds on the inside do the most damage.”

He’d caught her attention. “What’s wrong with you?”

There was an unnatural quiet in the room before he said, “I can’t father a child, Andrea, I’m impotent.”

The impact of his words was so painful, her heart plunged to her feet. She pressed a hand to her mouth to stifle her cry, but it escaped anyway.

They stared at each other while streams of unspoken words flowed between them.

“You’re the one person I know who understands how it feels to learn you’ll never be able to create a life from your own body. In fact you’re the only person in my life I’ve told,” he admitted soberly.

She groaned remembering Geoff’s excitement that Lance had come home for good. His expectations of grandchildren had put a new light in his eyes.

Those ever ready tears stung hers once more. “Oh, Lance—How did it happen? When?”

After a sharp intake of breath he said, “During one of my assignments in the Middle East, I was exposed to a chemical agent that put me in the hospital for a while. That was seven years ago. After I recovered, I was told I’d never be able to have children.”

To be told that was like being given a death sentence of sorts. She understood. Oh how she understood.

He would never know the joy of seeing himself in one of his own children. There’d be no flesh and blood baby who would grow up to look like the Malbois family.

“If you hadn’t gone in the military …”

“But I did.” His barely leashed anger revealed his pain. “Unlike you however, there’s no miracle that can change my condition.”

Andrea had nothing to say to that. There weren’t any words to give him the smallest hope. She’d never felt so helpless.

“Suffice it to say, not many women of childbearing age want to marry a man who can’t give them a child.”

Right now wasn’t the time to assure Lance there were plenty of women out there who’d give anything to be his wife if he were in love with them. They’d agree to adoption. In any case, the woman who wanted to be his wife wouldn’t make children the issue.

Yet with hindsight she could see that her being infertile had mattered to Richard. He hadn’t even wanted to discuss adoption. If she’d heard she couldn’t have a baby before she’d married him, he would have lost interest in her and walked away. He liked a well ordered life, everything in its place. Anything less than perfect didn’t suit.

Andrea had turned out to be less than perfect. Maybe that was why their sex life had suffered in their marriage. It could explain why he’d ended up burying himself in his books.

When she looked back, she realized she’d been the one to reach out to him on the day he’d died, hoping to ignite that missing spark.

She buried her face in her hands. “Your father’s going to feel terrible for you. You’re his raison d’être.“

“He’ll deal with it.”

“But what about you, Lance? Honestly …” With her heart aching for him, she lifted her head to look at him.

“For a few moments in the clinic today when Dr. Semplis congratulated us, I felt as if you and I had made your baby together. I liked the feeling. So much in fact that I’d like to be its father on a permanent basis.”

She sat up straighter. What was he saying?

“You’ve asked for an honest response from me, so let me ask you a question. How would you like to marry me?”

For the second time in one day, her world stood still. It took her a minute before she could speak.

“You’re talking a marriage of convenience?” she asked in wonder.

“I guess that’s one way of putting it,” he drawled. “From the outset it’s been clear you and your husband enjoyed a great marriage. I realize a love like that only comes once in a lifetime.

“Life has dealt us both a great blow to our dreams, so I’m not going to ask for the impossible. But if you’d let me, I’d like to give you my name. Then I can be there to help you through your pregnancy, and after. I’ll provide for you and the baby for the rest of my life. Everything I have will be yours.

“I can promise you it won’t be hard to say it’s mine. After listening to its heartbeat, I already feel a bond. What are the chances of that happening again? This will be the closest I’ll ever come to playing the role of father right from the cradle.

“Think about it, and we’ll talk more tomorrow after I’ve come back from Rennes. If you’re feeling up to it, we’ll take a drive into the country for dinner.

“In the meantime, do me a favor and mind the doctor. I’ll instruct the kitchen to send up your meals tomorrow. That way you can give those pills a chance to do their job while you rest.

“Bonne nuit, Andrea.”

Still in shock, she watched him leave, knowing there’d be no rest for her from now on. Not when the future Duc Du Lac had just asked her to marry him so he could have a baby.

Richard’s baby.

But Richard wasn’t alive, and Lance, who was very much alive, yet could never get a woman pregnant, was prepared to step in and father her baby.

It meant she’d never have a financial worry. She could be the total stay-at-home mother she’d dreamed of being, and her baby would have a daddy who would raise him and love him.

Andrea had no doubts about Lance’s devotion to her child. His reaction at the clinic, the excitement in his eyes when he’d gone out to buy her the gifts, let her know he’d be a natural when it came to fatherhood. After all, he was Geoff’s son. What better role model could any man have.

Her baby would inherit a grandfather who would lavish his love on his grandchild.

Three people who’d known loss would dote on her baby. What a lucky boy or girl to be the recipient of so much love.

The only way the decision to marry Lance wouldn’t be convenient was if he eventually met a woman and fell madly in love.

Andrea had no doubts he would always be there for their child, but he would feel trapped in the marriage he’d entered into with Andrea. That would be the risk she’d be taking if she said yes to him now, and then further down the road he wanted out.

For the rest of the night she tossed and turned, wishing she couldn’t feel or understand his pain that he couldn’t procreate.

She should never have listened to him—never have given him the chance to broach the subject with her. Something had told her there’d be a price to pay if she did.

There was a price all right.

He’d stripped her of her of peace of mind. Lance knew she’d become emotionally involved and had purposely left her to writhe while she considered the pros and cons of his outrageous marriage proposal.

It was a desperate measure on the part of a very desperate man. If she agreed to it, what did that make her?

Every kind of a fool for even entertaining something that could bring untold pain and anguish down the road.




CHAPTER FIVE (#ulink_744ccfbc-5247-5488-95ee-438a3e9ee938)


“THIS is a lovely old inn, Lance. What does the name of it mean in English?”

He studied Andrea’s oval face in the candlelight. She had the classic features of a true beauty. He doubted she wore anything but lipstick.

“It’s called the Gold Chestnut Tree. If you hadn’t become ill the other day, I would have shown you the real one.”

She blinked. “Real one?”

“In 1990 there was a fire here in the Valley of No Return. It burned for five days. Afterward thousands of donations poured in from around the world to help save the mythical heritage that abounds here. Papa was one of the people instrumental in spearheading it.”

“Five days—”

“It was devastating. You may have heard of the Parisian sculptor, François Davin. He created a huge golden chestnut tree with pure gold leaves to pay tribute to international cooperation. The tree symbolizes the immortality of the dreams of men of goodwill.”

“I believe Richard did mention something about it. The branches are supposed to resemble a stag’s antlers.”

“That’s right. It’s to commemorate the wild animals who led the knights through the enchanted forests, and to remind us of the power of man’s love of Mother Nature.”

“How lovely,” she mused.

The personification of loveliness was seated across from him. “How was your crêpe?”

“As you can see, I ate most of it. Combined with the cider, everything tasted delicious.”

“No nausea spells this afternoon?”

She shook her head. The golden-brown strands glistened against her shoulders. With eyes dark as poppy throats, she had an enchanting color scheme.

“I spent part of the afternoon with your father in the garden and kept waiting to be sick, but it didn’t happen. The medicine has worked wonders.”

That was good news.

Since driving away from the château with her, Lance had purposely kept up desultory conversation to put her at ease. To his chagrin she’d seemed so comfortable with him throughout dinner, he had the premonition she’d made up her mind to turn him down hours before. As a result, she was enjoying their evening out without any accompanying nervousness.

Lance on the other hand found his appetite had left him. Once having asked her to consider his proposal, the idea that she might turn him down was getting harder and harder to accept. In fact it was quite unthinkable.

Baby or no baby, he discovered he wanted to be with her all the time. His physical attraction to her had been immediate. Knowing she was pregnant made her even more desirable.

Tonight she looked lit up inside. In the simple black dress and strand of pearls, her curvaceous body moved with a femininity that made him ache to touch her. He was charmed by her soft laughter. She was a person who enjoyed the small moments.

Andrea wanted nothing from him. As a consequence, he was prepared to give her his name. So far no other woman had meant enough to him that he wanted to live with her on a constant basis, let alone be responsible for her.

No longer able to enjoy the evening when he didn’t know her decision, he announced they were leaving the restaurant. She went along without demur, which probably meant she was tired and wanted to go home.

On the way back to the château, he drove her past Paimpont abbey to the pool nestled in the foothills his father wanted her to see. He shut off the engine and glanced at her profile.

“One night after your baby’s born and you’re able, I’ll bring you here for a swim. Merlin fell madly in love with Viviane in this spot. They used to make love here. When the moon is full, it reflects off the water like the silver chalice Perceval sought.”

She put down her window, allowing the sultry summer night air to filter through the car. “This place could be right out of a fantasy. Ever since I’ve been in Brittany, I feel as if I’ve been caught in a spell.”

Lance liked the sound of that. “It’s because you’ve entered the sanctuary of the wicked fairy Morgan-le-Fay, Arthur’s half sister. Remember those red rocks we passed earlier where the waters are turbulent? She would lure fickle knights here, then imprison them.

“Motivated by his love for the queen, Lancelot braved untold dangers to break those poor souls from Morgan’s evil spell. In the process he found the way out through this enchanted pool.”

“You’re part of that same enchantment,” Andrea spoke up. “Like a shapeshifter you take on a different form depending on the moment. I never know who’s going to appear next.

“Will it be the loving, devoted son? The battle scarred military man? The impeccable host? The knight in modern armor still rescuing damsels in distress? The wounded soldier who believes he’s lost his manhood? The boy-man yearning for his idyllic childhood? The Duc-elect of Du Lac fame? The unofficial fiancé of his stepsister?”

Mon Dieu.

Except for her not knowing about his history with Corinne, she had him figured out better than any psychiatrist.

“If I’d wanted to marry her, I would never have joined the military. Enough said?”

She was staring out her window. “Then it was always her fantasy?”

“Always.”

“What about your father’s?”

“Naturally he wants me to settle down and be happy. But just so you know, the choice of bride has always been up to me.”

His hand resting on the seat behind her dug into the leather upholstery. Any hope he’d held out that Andrea might go along with his plan was fading fast.

“How about viewing me as a simple man who would love to be a father, and can see a way to helping himself and you at the same time?”

“There’s nothing simple about you.”

He leaned closer to her. “Is that the overwhelmed mother-to-be talking? The widow who’s still in mourning for the husband she’ll always love? The girl-woman who never felt she belonged? The student of the world wishing she had her degree? The grieving daughter who never knew her parents? The woman who’s on her own for the first time in her life and is afraid she likes it?”

A minute must have passed before she turned her head to look at him. “Touché.”

“Would you be willing to take the plunge with me into unknown waters and see what happens? With my money, you’ll never have to worry about going to work. Your child will always have my name and protection. Best of all, you’ll be able to be a full-time mother to your baby, and I’ll be there to give support.”

A troubled sigh escaped her lips.

“What else is on your mind?” he prodded. “Now is the time to unearth it.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Yes, you did,” he whispered. “Let me ask you a question. Do you trust me?”

She lowered her head. “If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have come out to dinner with you, and we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

The tight band constricting his chest burst, allowing him to go on breathing. “Then let it be your answer. Promises are only just that anyway. You and I will be going where neither of us has gone before.

“Your sense of adventure is as great as mine, or you wouldn’t have come to Brittany a second time. For the sake of the baby, let’s agree to make the most of every second of it.”

He felt in his suit jacket pocket. “Give me your hand.” When she didn’t react fast enough, he reached for it. She trembled as he slid the engagement ring on her finger without problem.

“I bought it this afternoon. The minute I saw the pear shape of the stone, it reminded me of the lake where we met. What do you think?”

She spread her fingers in front of her eyes. “I think it’s the most exquisite diamond I’ve ever seen. I can’t imagine how you got the fit right.”

“After telling the clerk your height and weight, I added that you were pregnant. He figured out the rest.”

In spite of the tense moment, her mouth curved in a seductive smile if she’d but known it.

“After the baby’s born, you can get it resized so you don’t lose it,” he added.

“The stone’s so large, it would be impossible to miss.” New energy hovered around them like a livewire. “But I can’t accept it.”

The breath froze in his lungs. “So your forgiveness of my sins stops short of matrimony, even if it’s for the baby’s sake.”

“No, Lance. That isn’t what I meant.”

His guts clenched. “Then explain it to me.”

“This is the kind of ring you give the woman you love. I’d prefer something more modest.”

A shudder of relief passed through his taut body. “If that’s the only thing bothering you, do me a favor and wear it until I can get you another one.”

Afraid she’d take it off and break the enchantment of the moment, sending him back to the black hole where he’d been living for so long, he started to turn on the engine. That’s when he saw something move at the edge of the pond.

“Andrea—” he murmured. “Don’t make a sound. Just turn your head slowly toward the water.”

She did his bidding.

One of the things he enjoyed most about her was her acceptance of the unexpected. She had an inner calm, no matter her shock or fear. Not many people possessed that enviable trait.

He had trouble tearing his eyes from her long enough to watch the stag who’d come to the pool to drink. The woman at his side drew in her breath, letting him know how much the scene delighted her.

They watched for a few minutes. Then Lance heard the sudden hoot of a nearby owl. It startled the stag who threw back his head and pranced off into the foliage.

“I’ve never seen a deer with such a huge rack, and yet he was so graceful. Majestic …”

“That one’s been around a long time.”

“To think I’ve been trying to get a picture of the animals, and tonight I’m without my camera.”

“We’ll come tomorrow night about this same time and wait for him.”

“He was beautiful.”

So was she …

If he stayed here with her any longer and did what he felt like doing, he could frighten her off.

“Let’s go home. If my father’s still up, we’ll tell him our plans. Otherwise it will have to be tomorrow.”

“I think it would be better to wait until he’s had a good night’s sleep.”

“Then that’s what we’ll do.” Now that she’d agreed to marry him, he wasn’t about to argue a minor point.

Once they were headed back to the château he turned to her. “While I was in Rennes the other evening, I bumped into Helene Dupuis who often plays hostess for Papa. She wants to give me a homecoming party. I’ll tell her to go all out since we’re already engaged and want it to be our wedding reception.

“I’d like to schedule it soon. To wait any later in your pregnancy might not be wise. I wouldn’t want to endanger your health. Two to three weeks ought to give your aunt and uncle time to come.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that. I’m afraid they wouldn’t be able to afford the plane fare.”

“I don’t expect them to pay for anything. That’s my privilege. I want your friends to come, too. Anyone on the faculty you feel close to.”

“Lance—”

“This will be my one and only wedding. I’d like to meet the people in your life. So will my father. Your family did an outstanding job of raising you. If your parents were alive, there’d be no question of their coming.

“Don’t be concerned about other social engagements. Because of your pregnancy, we’ll limit the number of parties to our wedding day and the christening. When you and I get better acquainted, you’ll learn I’m not a social animal like my father.”

“I already know that about you.”

“Do you mind?”

“No. Richard and I had to attend a lot of functions, but I must admit that most of the time I would have preferred to do something alone with him.”

“I’m a homebody myself. Once the baby comes, we’ll have our hands full.”

They’d reached the château. He pulled around the side and shut off the engine.

“My uncle liked to be home. He was a family man.”

“I’m looking forward to it myself.” Lance undid his seat belt. “During my downtime in the military, some of my married buddies would receive letters and pictures of their children through e-mail.

“I envied them having a family to go home to. After my hospitalization, I envied them for being able to give their wives a child. Under the circumstances it made sense to stay in the service and let those poor devils go home to the people who needed them.”

She released her seat belt.

“I can relate. In fact I’ve lived for so long without hope, I’m still in shock I’m pregnant.”

“Our baby will be here within six months. Maybe by then we’ll both believe it.”

After being burned by his past, Lance was astounded that he was putting himself in a position where he had to be willing to trust a woman again. Upon leaving the service, he never wanted or intended for this to happen. He was still in shock that he’d returned home to a situation where a woman had the power to make him vulnerable again.

But he couldn’t deny the emotions building inside him where Andrea was concerned. The attraction to her was too strong to ignore or deny, even if she was still in love with Richard.

When she’d broken down in Lance’s arms while she gave into her pent-up grief, it should have doused any fire building in him whether physical or emotional.

Instead the opposite had happened, and therein lay the problem. The one thing he feared was intruding on her grief. How to deal with this woman who was still mourning her husband?

That was the burning question Lance wrestled with at the moment. The only way to respect her feelings and keep his needs from growing out of control was to concentrate on the baby.

With that decision firmly in place he kissed her cheek before levering himself from the driver’s seat to help her out.

When he looked up, he noticed the light in his father’s room had been turned off.

“Papa’s gone to bed,” he said as he ushered Andrea into the foyer and up the stairs. “We’ll tell him over lunch. That’ll give both of you time to sleep in. How does that sound?”

When they reached her door she raised tremulous eyes to him. “That’ll give you time in case you have a change of mind during the night.”

He drew in a harsh breath. “Not a chance in hell.”

When morning came Andrea didn’t experience any nausea, yet her stomach felt fluttery. What if Geoff had reservations? She’d see it in his eyes immediately.

Without time to lose she hurriedly took another pill and her vitamins before getting dressed for the day. Andrea didn’t want anyone waiting on her. No one should have to climb all those stairs to bring her something to eat.

She put on fresh coral lipstick and brushed out her hair. It swished against the shoulders of her khaki blouse. Since all her pants were too tight to be comfortable, she donned the same wraparound skirt she’d worn a few days earlier. It accommodated her thickening belly.

The next time she went to town she’d buy some new clothes. She still had to pinch herself that she’d joined the ranks of those fortunate women who needed to visit a maternity shop.

As she descended the stairs, her whole world felt different. Because she was going to be a mother, and Lance would be the baby’s father, the knowledge colored her thinking. She had a new reason to live.

Lance happened to be on his way up to her floor wearing charcoal trousers and a claret toned sport shirt. Her breath caught at the sight of such potent masculinity. If she hadn’t cried his name in time, they would have collided.

As it was, his hand fell on her shoulder. She felt its warmth all the way to her bones. His eyes roved over her features in male admiration. “You look like a different person this morning. Motherhood becomes you.”

Everything he said sounded intimate and personal. “It must be that and the medicine. I’m much improved even since yesterday.”

She noticed the visible rise and fall of his well-defined chest. “I’m glad to hear it. I told Papa we wanted to have lunch with him. He’s looking forward to it.”

“How does he seem physically?”

“He’s getting back to his old self in a hurry.” Lance’s eyes scrutinized her. “Where were you going so fast?”

“To the library to do some research before lunch.”

His hand slid away from her arm with seeming reluctance. “While you do that I’ll be in the study doing some business.”

By tacit agreement they went down to the main floor together. She’d never been more aware of his height. He smelled so good—looked so good—If Lancelot had this same effect on Guinevere, Andrea could understand why Arthur’s dream failed and Camelot ceased to exist.

Lance accompanied her to the double doors of the library. His close proximity created havoc with her senses.

“I’ll look in on you later and remind you to take another pill,” he whispered.

Inhaling an unsteady breath she said, “There’s no chance of my forgetting.”

“I’m not so sure. With all those drawings to look at, you’ll be riveted. I spent a lot of my boyhood in there and know their fascination.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

Afraid to look at him she hurried inside, needing to put distance between them as a safeguard against her growing attraction to him.

The château’s library contained priceless books pertaining to the Du Lac family as well as thousands of titles dealing with all aspects of Arthurian legend. Some had been written in Breton, an old Brittany language resembling Cornish and Welsh.

Andrea found its history intriguing. She could understand how Richard had gotten caught up in the lore of the region. The various versions of the Knights of the Round Table could keep you engrossed indefinitely.

Two hours later, after she’d settled down to read an interesting piece in English on Perceval’s search for the Holy Grail, she heard female voices outside the door. It was probably a conversation between the maids. She continued her study of the text, unaware someone had entered the library until a woman spoke to her.

“Mrs. Fallon?”

“Yes?” Andrea got to her feet. A tall, striking blonde in an expensive three peach colored suit had entered the room. She appeared to be Andrea’s age, or maybe a little older.

“I’m Corinne Du Lac.”

Du Lac?

That meant she must have taken Geoff’s name when her mother married him.

“How do you do.”

The woman Lance planned to marry emitted amazing self-possession. And why not? Geoff would have welcomed her like a beloved daughter because it was the way he was made.

She drew closer until Andrea could see her light blue eyes. “Brigitte explained why you’re here. I understand you lost your husband recently. May I extend my condolences.”

“Thank you.”

“Have you accomplished everything needful for his book yet?”

“For the most part, yes. I’m still hoping to get a picture of a stag or a wild boar.”

“They’re very elusive creatures. I’ve never seen a boar in the forest. It could take a long time. If you’d like, I’ll ask the groundskeeper to keep a watch and get some pictures. I’d be happy to send them to you.”

She spoke excellent English. Andrea could only marvel. “That would be very nice of you. Geoff has been wonderful to let me stay here.”

“Everyone adores him, but no one more than I. He’s the only father I’ve ever known. Mine abandoned me and my mother.”

“I’m sorry,” Andrea commiserated. “My parents died before I turned four, so I understand how it leaves a big hole in your heart.”

“Geoff filled mine. When he and mother divorced, he didn’t let it make any difference to our relationship.”

So far Lance’s name hadn’t been mentioned. An intentional omission?

“He wouldn’t. He’s too genuine for that.”

“We love each other.”

Andrea didn’t doubt it.

“Since he’s resting, would you like to drive to Lyseaux for lunch? I just got back from a long trip to Australia and am yearning to taste French food again.”

Evidently she hadn’t caught up with Lance yet.

“I’d enjoy that, but I need to finish up my work here this morning.”

The other woman’s brows knit together. “Why is that? I thought the book was your husband’s project.”

“It was, but I was also his assistant and am looking for something special on Lancelot to turn in to the publisher with his manuscript.”

She folded her arms, resting her slender hip on the edge of the table. “There must be thousands of books on him.”

“There are. I’m sure my husband read them all. He was steeped in legends surrounding King Arthur’s court. But being a professor, he was determined to add his own fresh outlook. The Château Du Lac captured his imagination and mine.”

After a brief silence, “I suppose you were told you can’t take pictures of the room where you’ve been sleeping.”

“I would never do that without permission.”

“Geoff doesn’t want anything about the room to get in print.”

“I don’t blame him. In my opinion those paintings constitute some of France’s greatest art treasures. If the public knew about them, he’d be hounded to death.”

“It’s good you understand.”

“Of course. I feel privileged to be allowed to stay in there.”

“You have no idea how fortunate you are.”

Uh-oh. The other woman’s comment had a territorial sound to it.

“How long before you return to the States?”

The burning question was finally out.

“I’m not sure.”

“You don’t need to get back to your job?”

“If by that you mean do I work at Yale University? The answer is no. After teaching classes, my husband would come home and I’d help him do his research on the computer.”

“What will you do now?”

“Andrea’s going to have her hands full from here on out.”

The deep masculine voice could only belong to one person. She hadn’t heard Lance enter the library.

Corinne swung around. “Chéri—“ she cried with uninhibited longing. “I heard you were back!”

“Bonjour, Corinne.” He shut the doors behind him, but made no advance toward her. “I’m glad to see you two have already met. It saves me having to find you in order to make introductions.”

“Mrs. Fallon and I were just getting acquainted.” She hurried toward him, and grasped his arm. “Now that you’re here, let’s go somewhere private. It’s been forever since I last saw you, and we have so much to catch up on.”

“We can do that later. Right now I have something important to tell you.”

“Not in front of your father’s guest surely,” she pleaded in a hushed tone, but Andrea heard her.

“This involves Andrea. It can’t wait.”

At this point Corinne’s head jerked around. Her eyes stared at Andrea as if she were some kind of alien. “What could she possibly have to do with us?”

“Since you became my stepsister ten years ago, and we’re family so to speak, I would say quite a lot.”

Andrea was coming to know Lance’s moods. Right now his features had taken on a faintly chiseled cast. She was reminded of that night in the forest when he’d ordered her off the property. It sent a shiver down her spine.

The other woman looked less sure of herself. “Lance—I don’t understand you.”

“Then let me enlighten you.”

He removed Corinne’s hand from his arm and crossed the expanse to reach Andrea. “I told you I’d be in to remind you to take your pill,” he said to her sotto voice.

“I would have taken it when we went into lunch.”

To her surprise he put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close against his hard physique.

“Corinne?” he addressed the woman standing there like a piece of petrified wood. “You might as well hear our news now.”

“What news?”

“I’m in love and have found the woman I’m going to marry.”

It was a good thing Lance was holding on to Andrea, otherwise she would have collapsed in a heap.

“If Papa continues to improve, we’re hoping to be married within three weeks time.”

Corinne’s face lost color. “Married—”

Lance hugged Andrea tighter. Looking down at her he said, “It happened so fast we can hardly believe it either can we, mon amour. I never believed in the coup de foudre. Not until I met you. It was love at first sight.”

He lowered his head and kissed her hard on her astonished mouth before turning to Corinne. “I know you’ll be happy for us, but I have to ask you a favor. Papa doesn’t know yet. We’re going to tell him at lunch.”

His smooth shaven jaw brushed against Andrea’s cheek. Despite the chaos of her emotions, the feel of his skin sent a curling warmth through her body.

“I’d like the two of you to become good friends. In the meantime I hope you’ll forgive me for interrupting, but something has come up. I need to talk to Andrea alone.”

He grasped her hand and started walking toward the door. Corinne stared at Lance in anguish before leaving the room ahead of them. She disappeared down the hall with her suit jacket flapping.

Lance headed for the staircase. He tightened his grip, letting Andrea know he had no intention of allowing her to break free until they’d reached the third floor.




CHAPTER SIX (#ulink_3babb3bb-5dbf-59b8-a6d4-f735b1701beb)


ANDREA walked in her room ahead of Lance. After shutting the door, he leaned against it while she went over to the bedside table and took another pill with a glass of water.

“You deserve an explanation for what happened just now, and you’ll get it. Just hear me out before you consign me to hell for a second time.”

She rubbed her forehead where she could feel a headache coming on. “I’m listening.”

He began pacing, then stopped. “I had no idea Corinne had arrived. Thank God Henri told me he saw her head for the library. I had to get you out of there fast. There was only one way to do it. For once I was able to strike the death blow before she could see it coming.”

Andrea swung around. “It was a death blow to her,” her voice throbbed. “I’ve never seen anyone so crushed in my life. By now she has probably run to your father and told him everything.”

A cruel smile broke out on his lips. Only moments ago she’d felt them on hers and was still weaving from the effect.

“She would like to, but she won’t dare because she’s unsure of her ground at the moment.”

Andrea’s temper flared. “Perhaps you’ve forgotten I’m a guest in your father’s home. He has allowed me to sleep in this incredible room and use his library. Even if I’ve agreed to marry you, for you to draw me into some kind of intrigue that involves your stepsister is hardly the way to repay him.”

“Have no fear. He knows you’re the innocent here. My issue with her goes back years.”

Their eyes met. His had darkened until there was no more blue left to be seen.

“Lance—”

“Do me a favor and sit down while I talk to you?” he said emotionally. “After your emergency visit to the clinic the other day, this is all you need to suffer a relapse. If anything happened to the baby because of me—”

The fear in his eyes and voice drove her to obey his suggestion. In truth, since the ugly confrontation with Corinne, she felt drained.

After she sat back against the pillows, he leaned over to ease her legs onto the bed. Every touch increased her awareness of him.

Like before, he drew the chair close to the bed and sat down. She watched him run a hand through his hair in a gesture that could have meant resignation or defeat. Andrea had the impression he was tired, as if he’d been wrestling with the same nightmare for years.

It brought out her compassion, a reaction she fought against, yet she doubted he was aware of its effect on her.

His head reared. “Where to begin,” he muttered.

She moistened her dry lips. “Try the beginning.”

A nerve hammered at the corner of his mouth. “In the beginning, there was a happy family of three. I was halfway through my engineering studies at the University in Rennes where I was living in an apartment when mother came down with the flu. She had a low immune system, and it took its toll on her.

“Rennes is only a forty minute drive from here, so I moved back home temporarily. Papa and I watched her like a hawk, but we couldn’t prevent her from catching the pneumonia that took her life.”

“How awful,” Andrea whispered. A tight band squeezed her lungs to think Lance had come home from the military to discover his father suffering from the same condition.

“It was a hellish time.” His eyes had a wintry look. “Life wasn’t the same for either of us after that. I went on to finish up my degree, but Papa fell into a decline. When I graduated, his closest friends Helene and Yves Dupuis gave a party for me.

“It was there my father met an attractive divorcée named Odette de la Grange. She was from Paris. According to Helene, Odette’s husband had divorced her, but left her well enough off.

“Her daughter Corinne was reputed to have suffered from the divorce and had been in and out of several unsatisfactory relationships. A strong hand was what she needed. She was twenty-two at the time, two years younger than myself.

“Papa was lonely. In his vulnerable state both needy women brought out his protective instincts. So he married Odette who it turned out had no money left. Papa didn’t worry about that. He was much more concerned about taking care of them and being a good father to Corinne.”

“Your father’s a sweetheart.”

Lance grimaced. “Unfortunately he had no idea how much more his ambitious stepdaughter wanted from life.”

“You mean she wanted you.“

There was a sustained pause before she heard him say, “Yes.”

Andrea took a fortifying breath. “She’s a beautiful woman.”

A strange sound came from his throat.

She locked her arms around her knees. “What did Corinne do?”

“What didn’t she do—” he bit out. “Everywhere I turned, there she was. To please Papa, I made an effort to be her friend, but she had something else in mind. She was like my shadow. I couldn’t shake her. Before long she became repugnant to me, but of course I didn’t want to tell him.

“It had taken him so long to consider remarrying, the last thing he needed was to find out Odette’s daughter had problems only a psychiatrist could help her solve, mainly abandonment issues.”

Andrea nodded. “While we were downstairs, she mentioned that her father had left her early in life.”

Lance used the heel of his hand to rub his eyes. “About a week before my father’s wedding I was invited to spend a few days at Mont Saint Michel with a girlfriend whose parents ran a restaurant there. I needed the break and told Papa where I’d be if he needed me.

“The next thing I knew, Corinne showed up alone with her usual sob story of feeling left out. Could she hang around with us?

“To say I was shocked is putting it mildly. She was totally out of line, Andrea. A normal mother would have taken her daughter in hand, but Odette wasn’t normal, either.”

“Obviously.”

“My girlfriend couldn’t believe it, but she was great about it. She made Corinne feel welcome, which prevented the trip from turning into a complete disaster. But my aversion to Corinne reached a new low. I could scarcely abide her presence and avoided her whenever possible.

“After the wedding I assumed she would go back to Paris where she’d been living with her mother. But as my father was leaving for the South of France on his honeymoon he said, “Odette couldn’t afford to keep up her apartment, so I’ve told Corinne she can live with her mother and me for the time being.

“The news twisted my gut. I’d just graduated from college and had arranged to live in Rennes while I worked at a hydraulics plant there. But knowing Corinne would track me down and never leave me alone meant that idea was out.

“After the reception I went to my room in a complete funk. That’s where I found Corinne naked in my bed waiting for me.”

Andrea groaned.

“I was repulsed. When I told her to go to her own suite, she refused. The horror story had begun in earnest.”

She stared at Lance. No one could make up something so awful.

“There was only one thing to do. I packed my things and left the château. She chased after me all the way to my car wearing my robe. Do you know what she said to me?”

“I can’t imagine.”

“If you walk away from me, Lance Malbois, I’ll tell our parents you tried to rape me.”

Andrea was aghast.

“I told her to go to hell, then I drove away and stayed at Giles’s house. He’s my best friend. We talked everything over and came to the conclusion that the only thing I could do was leave the country for an indefinite period. That way Corinne couldn’t have access to me on any level, and she’d give up.”

“That’s why you joined the military?” Andrea cried.

He eyed her solemnly. “It was the only solution.”

“What a brilliant move on your part,” Andrea murmured. “You had a legitimate excuse for being gone where she couldn’t come after you. But it had to be the last thing you ever thought of doing in your life.”

“I was young, I needed to leave and it seemed like an exciting option,” his voice grated.

“Your father must have suffered terrible pain when he found out.”

“Except for the fact that he had a new wife and stepdaughter to keep him occupied. By the time their marriage ended he was used to my being gone.

“I must say that from the beginning he hid it well. Once he got back from his honeymoon, I phoned to tell him I’d decided to go into the service as a classified officer where I could use my engineering training. I half expected to hear that Corinne had carried out her threat, and he wanted an accounting. When he answered, I was prepared for the worst.

“To my astonishment, he said he was proud of me for choosing to serve our country. Then he confided what he’d learned from Corinne.

“Apparently she told him the two of us had gotten physically involved and were so attracted, I thought it best to leave for a discreet amount of time. On my next leave, we’d explore our emotional feelings and see if they led to marriage.”

“You’re right,” Andrea murmured. “She’s incredibly clever.”

“Clever like a psychotic vixen. I decided to let Papa go on believing her lie for the sake of peace in his new marriage. I hoped that in time Corinne would give up her impossible fantasy and move out.

“After my father’s second divorce she ended up in the hospital following a failed suicide attempt.”

Sickened by what she’d just heard, Andrea couldn’t lie there any longer and slid off the bed. “Did she really mean it?”

His hands curled into fists. “I doubt she intended to go through with it, but you never know. Her talent for manipulation is unexcelled. She’d claimed Papa for her new father and wasn’t about to let that relationship go.

“He felt sorry for her and brought her home. Slowly she began wrapping her tentacles around him. I’m afraid he allowed it because of the guilt he felt over his second marriage not working.”

“I can understand that. Guilt has a lot to answer for.”

“Indeed.”

“Yet while he suffered, her true intent was to lie in wait for you.”

“Afraid so. Father set up Odette in a new apartment in Paris, but Corinne stayed on with him, and never left the château except to travel.

“After I learned about my condition, I saw no point to my life except to stay in the service. I worked my leaves around her absences to visit Papa, but there were times when I couldn’t avoid her.”

“Ten years in exile is too high a price to pay.”

This time it was Lance who groaned. “When you don’t give a damn about anything, you don’t notice time passing. Not until I received a phone call from Henri telling me about Papa’s illness. It made me realize he needed me. That’s when I decided to come home for good.”

She took a fortifying breath. “Are you sure Corinne isn’t the real reason you asked me to marry you?”

His eyes turned to flint.

“If you can ask me that question, then you don’t know me at all and a marriage between us would never work.”

“Don’t go, Lance—” she cried as he started to leave the room. “I’m trying to understand. When you kissed me in front of her—”

“I did what came naturally,” he cut her off. “We’re going to be married soon. We’re having a baby. In private I’ll never ask you to do anything you don’t want to do, but in public I plan to treat you like my wife. If you have a problem with that, tell me now.”

She swallowed hard. “No, of course not.”

“Then let’s go downstairs.”

As they left her room, Andrea felt Lance’s fingers twine through hers in a tight grasp. When they reached the doors leading to the terrace, he turned and put his hands on her shoulders. His eyes held a fierce glint.

“You don’t have to do this if Corinne makes you uncomfortable. I’ll talk to Papa in private.”

“No, Lance. She’s part of your family. If not now, when?” Only a sick woman would hold him and his father captive with her lies all these years.

“Andrea—” his voice grated. She had the curious feeling he was about to kiss her again when Corinne opened the doors. She must have been standing there waiting for them.

The other woman flashed Lance an odd smile. “Geoff’s been counting the minutes.”

“So have we.”

He ushered Andrea past Corinne. They moved out to the patio where lunch had been served.

Geoff’s gaze fastened on Andrea. “Excellent. We’re all together. Where did Lance take you to dinner last night?”

“A little inn called Le Marronier d’Or. The bacon crêpe was out of this world.”

“That means he took you to Merlin’s trysting place as well.”

Andrea nodded. “We saw a magnificent stag.”

He smiled. “Were you able to get a picture?”

“No.” She let out a soft laugh. “Isn’t that the way it always goes?”

Lance put a hand on her thigh beneath the table. She felt the heat curl through her sensitized body. “I’ll take her another night when we’re more prepared.”

Corinne had seated herself next to Geoff. “I told him you had news of vital importance, Lance.”

“But I couldn’t pry it out of her,” Geoff admitted.

“I can always count on Corinne.” Lance sounded so sincere, Andrea wouldn’t have understood the double entendre if she hadn’t known all the facts. “In truth you’ve been such a good stepsister to keep my secret, I give you permission to tell Papa right now.”

It was obvious Corinne hadn’t been prepared for that sally, but she recovered with remarkable aplomb. She turned to Lance’s father with her fingers woven together around her wineglass.

“Would you believe Lance and Mrs. Fallon have fallen in love and are planning to be married right away? What has it been? All of three or four days since Lance came home?”

“I believe it.” Geoff smiled. “I watched it happen.”

Andrea decided Geoff was a great actor himself. His comment seemed to throw Corinne. She turned to Andrea.

“How long has it been since you buried your husband? Did I understand two months?”

“Three,” Andrea corrected her.

Her gaze flew to Andrea’s left hand. “It sounds like the fastest courtship in history. Is that the ring your deceased husband gave you?”

“It’s the one I bought for her,” Lance spoke up. He looked at his father. “Last night I asked Andrea to marry me, and she said yes.”

Andrea knew Geoff would always behave like the great gentleman he was, but she didn’t expect to see the illuminating smile that lit up his eyes. He studied both of them for the longest time.

“Except for Lance coming home in one piece, that’s the best news I’ve ever heard. Congratulations you two.” He stood up and walked around to Andrea. “Let me welcome you to the family.”

Lance squeezed her arm before she got to her feet to hug his father. He kissed her on both cheeks. She felt his happiness. It couldn’t all be pretense. The knowledge filled her with relief.

When he reached for Lance, the two men embraced with the kind of warmth between a father and son who loved each other without reservation.

Corinne held back. “You don’t honestly expect people to believe you’re in love this fast—”

“Why not?” Geoff took his place once more. “There’s no accounting for matters of the heart. Lance has asked Andrea to be his wife. We’ve got a wedding to plan.”

“But he can’t marry her—” Corinne blurted.

Geoff studied his stepdaughter for a moment. “Whatever do you mean, ma chérie?“

“They haven’t waited a decent interval. Her husband’s barely dead. What will people say?”

“Corinne?” Andrea addressed her. “Since you and I are going to be related through marriage, there’s something you should know.”

Her jaw hardened. “What else is there?”

“I’m sure you’re familiar with the old expression about a door closing and another one opening. It’s true my husband only passed away recently, but he left me a precious legacy.”

“I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about.”

“I’m pregnant.”

The news must have stunned Corinne because she went perfectly still.

“For the sake of my health and the baby’s, Lance and I have decided to marry as soon as possible.”

“Did you know about this?” Corinne demanded of Geoff.

A little smile broke the corner of his mouth. “When Dr. Foucher came to see me yesterday morning, he told me Andrea had been to see Dr. Semplis at the clinic the other day. Naturally I was sworn to secrecy. But under the circumstances I can shout it to the world!”

“You’re going to get the grandchild you’ve always wanted, Papa.”

There was an undercurrent of excitement in Lance’s voice that let Andrea know she’d done the right thing to accept his proposal.

“Except that it won’t be a Du Lac.”

Andrea heard his sharp intake of breath. “It will once we say I do at the altar,” Lance informed her. “In fact it will be exactly like the way you became a Du Lac when your mother married my father.”

The strange expression in Corinne’s eyes sent a shudder through Andrea’s body.

“When did you first suspect you were pregnant?” Geoff wanted to know.

“I didn’t have a clue. The doctor had to tell me. No one could have been more surprised than I was.”

In the next breath she told him about her premature menopausal condition and the subsequent chain of events that had happened after Lance found her sick in the forest.

“Your son lived up to his name. He was a true knight who didn’t need anything but Tonnerre for his great deed.”

Geoff laughed. “Now I understand why Brigitte was so worried about you. She said you haven’t eaten anything while you’ve been here. My wife was like that in the beginning. She couldn’t keep anything down.”

“Obviously all that suffering was worth it,” Andrea said.

“Indeed it was.” He stared at Lance. “She gave me a most wonderful son.”

“I agree. You and Lance are blessed to have each other. I can’t wait till my baby’s born.”

“Have you thought of names yet?”

“Give her time, Papa,” Lance broke in. “She barely learned she’s enceinte.“

“Actually I’ve had names picked out for years,” Andrea interjected. “If you can believe, Richard’s great-grandfather was a French-Canadian named Geoffroi Fallon.”

“Incroyable!” Geoff exclaimed.

“I always planned to name a boy after him. When I first met you and learned your name, it took on even deeper meaning for me. Of course if I have a girl, I’ll name her Germaine. That was the middle name of Richard’s great-grandmother.”

The older man’s smile widened. “This calls for a celebration!”

“Not until after the bébé arrives,” Lance declared. “No alcohol for Andrea.”

Always the protector … She had to admit she liked being looked after by him. How did he know so much about a pregnant woman’s needs? It was a luxury totally foreign to her.

She put a hand on Geoff’s arm. “It’s a celebration just to be a guest in your fabulous home. To be honest, ever since I came to Brittany I’ve felt like I was in a beautiful dream.”

Lance’s lips twitched. “Except for the nausea.”

Andrea chuckled. “I suppose you have to accept a little bitter when you’ve been given something so sweet. A miracle has happened to me. I was reading in one of the parenting books Lance bought me. Do you realize that in three months my baby is already fully formed with its little finger and toenails and eyelids.”

A happy laugh broke from Geoff. “You must get a nursery ready.”

“Everything in order, Papa. First thing tomorrow I’m going to drive Andrea to Rennes. I want her to see Maman’s family home. I’ve decided to open it up and we’ll live there.”

Corinne didn’t move a muscle.

Geoff gave a happy nod of approval. “If your mother were alive she’d be overjoyed.”

“Once Andrea has seen the place, we’ll get going on the nursery.”

“While you do that, Corinne and I will get together with Helene and start planning the wedding reception won’t we.”

“Of course.”

Andrea didn’t trust the other woman. Nothing about her behavior was natural or normal.

“In case it rains, let’s do it inside, Papa.”

“I was going to say the same thing. We’ll open up all the rooms on the main floor. What date shall I tell Helene?”

“Andrea and I were thinking three weeks from now. Shall we say June 30? It’s a Saturday. For her sake I want it kept fairly small so she doesn’t have to be on her feet a long time greeting guests.”

“Excellent idea, mon fils.“

“I’ll phone Père Loucent at the St. Vierge Church in Lyseaux. I think a morning ceremony followed by the reception would be best.”

“So do I.”

“Don’t you have a voice in any of this, Andrea?” Corinne had finally ventured a question.

“Lance and I discussed everything in detail at dinner.”

Geoff burst into laughter. “You two remind me of my marriage to Lance’s mother. She got her way in private, but she let me direct traffic in public. I was the envy of my friends.”

“I wish I could have met her.”

“So do I, Andrea. So do I.”

Maybe it was the melancholy note in Geoff’s voice that prompted Lance to stand, bringing their lunch to a close.

“Andrea and I are going to run into the village for our marriage license. We’ll see you two at dinner. I’d like to hear about your trip to Australia, Corinne.”

“So would I,” Andrea echoed him. “I’ve never vacationed outside the States except to come here. According to Geoff you’re the world traveler. You’re so fortunate to be able to do that, I envy you.”

When there was no response Lance helped her to her feet, keeping a possessive grip on her waist.

His father smiled up at them. “You’ve made me an extremely happy man. Another daughter joining the family, and a grandchild on the way—what more can we say, eh, Corinne?”

Andrea admired Geoff. For his stepdaughter’s sake he pretended nothing was wrong. Yet they all knew their announcement had shattered her world.

Corinne pushed her chair back and stood up. She’d leveled her gaze on Lance. “Could I talk to you for a moment before you go?”

Andrea put a hand on his arm. “I’ll get my purse and meet you at the car.”

Lance pressed a brief and reassuring kiss to her lips. “I’ll see you in a minute.” After she disappeared through the French doors he turned to Corinne. “Why don’t you walk out with me.”

With a nod to his father he headed for the foyer with Corinne in pursuit. By the time he’d reached his car, she’d caught up to him.

“After what you’ve done, I’m going to have to tell him the truth.”

Lance opened the driver’s door and got in behind the wheel. “Which version of the truth, Corinne? That you and I got too close while he was on his honeymoon? Or that you offered yourself to me ten years ago and I said no thank you.”

“Lance—” She moved closer. “I’m prepared to be generous and forget everything if you’ll call off your wedding to her and marry me.”

It was chilling to come face-to-face with someone who wasn’t in her right mind. “You’re delusional, Corinne. You need help.”

“What I need is you.” There was a fanatical gleam in her eyes. “I’ve won the right.”

“Won the right?” he growled the question.

“While I’ve been waiting for you all these years, I’ve taken care of Geoff like a daughter.”

“Then you’ve already received your reward. You’ve earned his affection.”

“He expected us to get married.”

“No. That’s a piece of fiction you invented so long ago, you actually believe it.”

“I told him I’d give him a grandchild.”

“Then you need to find a man who wants to marry you.”

“I found the man I wanted a long time ago.”

“Those wants have to be mutual, Corinne.” Lance added gently, “I never wanted you.”

“You’ve never given us a chance, yet in four days you’ve decided you’re going to marry a perfect stranger.”

“That’s right.”

Her cheeks looked blotched. “I could have turned Geoff against you, but I never did.”

“Your cry of rape is a figment of your mind. Don’t lie, Corinne.”

She gave him a strange smile. “It’s your word against mine. Are you sure you want to risk his revulsion of you?”

He’d had enough of this conversation and started the car. She put her hands on the door.

“I suggest you listen to what I have to say, Lance. If you insist on going through with this travesty of a marriage, then I’ll have to go through with my plan for you.”

He shook his head. “I must admit I’m disappointed you’ve wasted all these years thinking up your revenge against me when you could have worked on becoming a decent human being.

“Going after me will earn you Papa’s loathing. Then where will you be? What will you have accomplished?”

Her question coincided with Andrea’s appearance outside the château. His pulse raced just looking at her.

“You’d be surprised,” Corinne muttered.

Without waiting to hear anything else he got out to open the door for his future wife. She was carrying precious cargo. He’d do whatever it took to see her safely through this pregnancy.




CHAPTER SEVEN (#ulink_23d274e6-fb2b-51cf-be68-0486fffa8bc9)


EIGHT hours later Andrea was finally alone with Lance in her bedroom. The solemn look on his handsome face set off alarm bells.

“You know your father better than anyone in the world. He wasn’t putting on an act at dinner tonight, was he?”

“No. In fact I would go so far as to say he had to hold back most of his joy in order not to hurt Corinne.”

“Then what’s wrong besides the obvious?”

“It’s Corinne.”

Andrea nodded. “I know that.”

“I thought I knew, too …”

A strange nuance in his voice sent a chill down her spine. “What did she say to you before I came down to the car with my purse this afternoon?”

He slid his hands up and down her arms. “Corinne made a threat.”

“What kind?”

“I didn’t give her the chance to tell me.”

“But you can’t dismiss it? Why didn’t you say something to me while we were in the village. I thought we were in this together.”

His eyes roved over her upturned features. “Because I didn’t want to worry you unnecessarily.”

“I already am worried. Her behavior is irrational, Lance. One minute she’s hysterical. The next she’s like the calm before a storm.”

“She’s mentally ill. I’m sure my father believes it, too. He chose his words very carefully tonight.”

“I have to know what you’re thinking!”

His hands circled her upper arms. “Last night I asked if you trusted me, and you said yes.”

“I do.”

“Then let me deal with this in my own way first. I’ve already taken some precautions. If the need arises to talk to you about it, I swear I will. In the meantime we’ll do everything together. I’m not leaving you alone.”

For him to say that could only mean one thing. “You think she could be physically dangerous?”

Lines marred his face. “At this point I believe Corinne is capable of almost anything.”

Andrea groaned. “When your father gave us his blessing, she saw her dreams smashed. There’s a violence in her, Lance.”

“It’s always been there.”

“At the lake you told me it was a woman who gave you that scar. Women commit crimes against men on a regular basis. When I think Corinne once came to your room uninvited—there’s nothing to prevent her from doing it again to make certain you don’t get married.”

He kissed her forehead. “Nothing’s going to happen to anyone, Andrea. Until our wedding I’ll be sleeping with you in this room.”

“But, Lance—”

“Don’t worry about the servants talking,” he cut in on her. “That’s exactly what I want to happen. The gossip will reach Corinne’s ears. Knowing you and I are together will act as a natural deterrent.”

“I was thinking of your father.”

The trace of a smile formed on his lips. “Since it only took me four days to propose to you, he would wonder about me if I continued to spend my nights apart from you.”

He relinquished his hold of her and reached for the phone at her bedside. “I’ll let the staff know about my new arrangements, then we’ll call your family with our news.”

His eyes swept over her. “You look tired. Why don’t you get ready for bed first? It was designed so half a dozen people can gaze at the paintings comfortably. You won’t even know I’m in there with you.”

Andrea’s thudding heart accompanied her into the bathroom where she clung to the sink until she could get herself under control.

The brilliance of the diamond ring he’d given her drew her gaze.

It’s in the shape of the lake, he’d said.

The lake hidden in a mystical forest was where this whole thing had started—where she’d met Lancelot Du Lac come to life. Only he was bigger than life.

The myth wasn’t a myth after all.

He’d put Andrea under his spell. How else would she have agreed to enter into this marriage with Lance?

He was waiting for her when she emerged from the bathroom wearing her nightgown and robe. In the short time she’d been occupied, he’d changed into a pair of sweats and a T-shirt. No matter what he wore, she was aware of his incredible male physique made hard by his life in the military.

His slumberous eyes followed her progress, taking in every inch of her, starting at her bare feet.

“Ready to make that phone call? Afterward I want to hear which painting you think is my favorite.”

Andrea sank down at the side of the bed and put a phone call through to her aunt. The whole time they talked, Lance lay stretched out on the other side of the bed with his hands propping his dark head. He proved to be such a distraction, she had trouble concentrating on the conversation.

“If you’re so attracted to him this soon, why don’t you stay on in France and get to know him better before you commit yourself to another marriage?”

It was a good question. One Andrea would have asked her aunt if their positions had been reversed.

“Lance has been in the military a long time, Aunt Kathy. He wants to settle down.”

“That’s fine for him, but what about you? Even though you’re free, you’re still grieving. I should think you’d want to take a couple of deep breaths first.”

Her aunt didn’t understand Andrea’s problem. Andrea had been grieving in her marriage for years. And now, just thinking of Lance made her so breathless she could hardly function. The realization that they’d be sleeping in the same bed had made her feel more desire than she had felt in years. Shame coursed through her.

“I probably should.”

“Well, it sounds like you’ve made up your mind. Rob and I just want you to be happy. Does your invitation include the girls and their husbands?”

Her hand tightened on the receiver. “You know it does. I want all of you there.”

“We’re stretched for money, as always. Are you sure your fiancé’s willing to pay for everything?”

“Yes. He wants you to stay at his parents’ home while you’re here.”

“What a generous man. That’s a big change from Richard.”

She lowered her head. “I know.”

“Sorry. I had no right to say that.”

“Yes, you did, because it’s true.” In a way it was a relief to know her aunt hadn’t been blind to certain problems in Andrea’s marriage.

Lance was a different man from a different world.

Andrea hadn’t told her aunt anything except that she’d met a Frenchman named Lance Malbois who’d just retired from France’s elite force.

When the family arrived in Brittany, they’d see and understand everything for themselves. At that point she’d take her aunt aside and tell her she was expecting a baby. It didn’t seem right to tell her over the phone.

“Lance and I will make all the airline arrangements. You’ll be getting your tickets and the invitation some time next week by express mail.”

“Andrea?”

“Yes?”

“I know I haven’t said it often enough, but I love you. I want only the best for you.”

Her eyes smarted. “I know. I love you, too. Being away has made me realize how lucky I was to be raised by you. It must have been so hard at first.” When she thought of Geoff and the way he’d reached out to his troubled stepdaughter, it was humbling.

“If it was hard, it was because I was afraid I could never be the mother my sister would have been to you. Rob says I’m anal, but he loves me anyway. Your mother was more calm and laid-back. You have that same quality. It’s one I envy.”

“Then we’re even because I envy your courage in taking on another woman’s child.”

“Your sweet disposition made it easy to love you.”

Where had all this come from? Tears dripped down Andrea’s cheeks. “Thank you for saying that. I’ll call you next week to make certain you received everything.”

“I’m getting excited. I’ve never been to Europe.”

“It’s a whole other world, Aunt Kathy. Talk to you soon.”

She hung up the receiver, using her arm to brush the moisture away. In her mind’s eye she could imagine their surprise as they read the invitation with the Du Lac family crest engraved at the top …

Geoffroi Malbois, Le Duc Du Lac, requests the pleasure of your company at the marriage of his son Lancelot Malbois Du Lac to Andrea Gresham Fallon on the Thirtieth of June. Eleven a.m. at the Church of the St.Vierge, Lyseaux. A reception will follow at the Château on the Du Lac Estate, La Bretagne, France.

“What did your aunt say to make you so emotional?”

Andrea looked over at him. “A lot of wonderful things. If you hadn’t urged me to phone her, I might never have heard them.”

Lance rolled on his side to face her, all six feet three inches of lean, strong male. “Even with darkness at work, are you saying I’m good for you?” His voice sounded husky.

The time for honesty had come. “I guess I am.”

“Then humor me and get into bed. Our baby needs rest, too.”

Our baby. Oh, Lance—

“Don’t turn out the light yet. I’ll take care of it after you’ve answered the question I asked you the last time we were in here.”

Oh. He was talking about the paintings.

She slid beneath covers. Several feet separated them. His body still lay on top while he studied her.

“Have you decided which of the twelve months appeals to me the most?”

“Yes.” She should have known from the beginning, but it hadn’t come to her until tonight when they’d left a scary acting Corinne sitting with Geoff.

“How long do you plan to torture me? In case you hadn’t realized it yet, I’m not a patient man.”

“I’m aware of that,” she murmured. “You also thrive on danger, which leads me to think June is your favorite.”

He raised up on one elbow. “You know me well. In June Lancelot’s love was in full flower. He’d held back his feelings for Guinevere too long. Now he was on fire for her. No bars could keep him out. He would risk death for one taste of her mouth.”

“I thought that sounded like you.”

He flashed her a white smile so seductive, she had to look away. “Admit June’s your favorite month, too. Who else but Guinevere, queen among women, was brave enough to enter into a tryst with Lancelot and welcome him into her bed knowing evil was afoot in every corner of Camelot.”

Somehow the conversation had become a case of art imitating life. It was all too personal. Her eyes slid to the painting in question.

“The artist did an exceptional job of conveying their emotions. I think a woman did it.”

“I don’t know about that. A man can paint with the same amount of feeling. When I was young and hadn’t yet understood a female’s magic, I thought they were an embarrassing oddity. Several years had to go by before I let my best friend have a look.”

“By then you’d both discovered the lusty month of May had taken on new meaning. When June followed, your passion ripened.”

Rich, deep laughter poured out of him. “You’re one in a million, Andrea. I wonder which painting our child will like best.”

The conversation was getting out of hand.

“If we have a romantic daughter, she’ll tell us right away. If it’s a boy, we’ll probably be old and tired before he admits his preference.”

“Even then he’ll tell us there was no such thing as Camelot.” Lance was reading her mind.

“That’s when we’ll tell him it was only a beautiful dream.”

“I think I’m beginning to know how Arthur felt when everything fell apart. We haven’t even said our vows, yet you’re talking about us sitting around in our rocking chairs. I don’t envision us like that.”

“That’s because you grew up in the land of dreams. The truth is, Guinevere and Lancelot lost their heads. If we haven’t learned from their mistakes, then heaven help us.”

He moved closer, putting his chin on his bronzed arm. “You think their love was a mistake?”

She struggled not to be affected by his proximity. “Don’t you?”

“And miss out on the greatest love the world has ever known?” he drawled.

Her hand plucked at the covers. “They had to pay too great a price.”

“But while it was good, they knew indescribable rapture. I noticed you reading Chrétien de Troyes when I found you in the forest.”

Nothing got past Lance.

“The bedroom scene is one of the most famous passages in all literature,” he reminded her. “Wasn’t there a line about their sport being so agreeable and sweet while they kissed and fondled each other, that in truth such a marvelous joy came over them as was never heard or known?”

Andrea’s face went hot. “Chrétien got a little carried away portraying Lancelot’s feelings. Since he wasn’t a woman, he didn’t understand Guinevere. She was married to Arthur, and was always plagued by guilt.”

Lance sent her a seductive smile. “I think that’s the widow in you talking. Take another look at the painting,” he told her. “Do you see any guilt in her eyes or her body straining against him?

“She’s so eager for him, her eyes are alive. You can feel them burning for each other. All the months he’s been at court they’ve dreamed of this moment. By suppressing their passion, it has only grown into a conflagration.

“You can tell she’s completely forgotten anyone else is in the room with them. She’s begging him to touch her. Lancelot is out of his mind with desire.

“He’s been eaten alive by images of her that won’t give him rest. He burns for her in his sleep, yet now he’s awake and he’s come to her, and there’s no power on earth to stop their sweet pleasure in each other.”

Stop it, Lance.

“I’ve looked enough for one night, and now I’m tired. I should think you would be, too.” She leaned over to flick off the bedside lamp. “Good night.”

“Do you mind if I talk to you until we fall asleep?”

“As long as it’s not about fairy tales.” She turned her back on him and wished he’d plant himself in another area of the bed several feet away.

“The university is only five minutes from the house in Rennes. If you’re interested, you could take a couple of morning classes while you’re waiting for the baby to come. The term starts in August and will be over before you deliver at the end of December. I could drive you on my way to work, and pick you up at lunch.”

He’d anticipated everything. It would give her something worthwhile to do until she went back to the States to live.

“Where will you be working?”

“At the hydraulics company I told you about. Since being home I’ve made inquiries. They’re in need of an engineer with my qualifications.”

“How soon will you start?”

“Right after the wedding.”

She was glad he hadn’t mentioned a honeymoon.

“I’d be very interested.”

“Do you have any idea what kind of classes you’d like to

take?”

“French, and maybe a survey of early French literature.”

“Sounds like you’re planning to follow in Richard’s footsteps,” came the flat response.

“I have no desire to be a teacher. I was thinking I’d better know something about your language and culture since the men planning to be father and grandfather in my child’s life are Frenchmen.”

“That’s a fact.”

Andrea couldn’t tell what he thought of her choices.

“Someday I’ll decide on a career and go after it. Right now I can’t think beyond being a mother.”

“To be honest, I’m glad Papa wants to be in charge of the wedding festivities. With Helene’s help, they don’t need anyone else. That leaves us time to get the house ready and plan a nursery.”

“Is it vacant?”

“Yes, except for the caretakers Jean and his wife, Louise, who live there on the ground floor. Anything you want and they’ll take care of it.”

“What’s your mother’s home like?”

“It’s a cottage with a plaster exterior called a bastide. Two floors, four bedrooms. One full bath, and two half baths. There’s a terrace and a garden. Inside and out it’s perfect for a child.”

“I think it sounds charming.”

“When my grandparents were alive, I loved to stay there where I could run around and make messes.”

“You mean you were a normal little boy?”

“Afraid so. Papa didn’t take too kindly to my building model rockets on the grand hall dining table. The cement glue spilled on the surface and ruined it. They had to have it redone. If you got me started on the damage I did, it would take weeks.”

“Sounds like you made up for several siblings.”

He chuckled. “I wish I had a brother or sister. Maman suffered through three miscarriages. Each for a different reason.”

“She was lucky to get you. I’m living testimony of that.”

“Amen. Tell me about your cousins.”

“Julie’s twenty-nine. Sharon’s twenty-six.”

“Les Trois Mousquetaires.”

“I wish it had been like that. If I’d been adopted at birth, it might have been different.”

“What did they do? Remind you that you weren’t one of them in order to dampen your sails when you got something they didn’t?”

“How did you know?”

“Corinne pulled her ‘poor me’ stunt the first night I met her in the hope I’d feel guilty for having been born a Du Lac.”

Lance’s problems had been so much worse, Andrea didn’t have room to complain. “Now that the girls are married, things have been better.”

“I wish I could say the same where Corinne’s concerned.”

Andrea shivered. “Wouldn’t it be wonderful if she just gave up and went home to her mother.”

A strange sound came from his throat. “I thought you were the one who said no more fairy tales.”

“I’m sorry. What do you suppose she’s doing right now?”

“Let’s not worry about it. Go to sleep. You’re safe with me.”

Safe.

If there was anyone in the world who could protect her, she knew it was Lance. The knowledge helped her to relax. At some point oblivion took over.

When she awoke, she couldn’t believe it was midmorning already. Lance had already gone. Knowing he’d been with her all night must have been the reason she’d slept longer than usual.

The absence of nausea prompted her to take her pills. She wanted this feeling of well-being to continue.

As she started across the room there was a rap on the door. “Andrea?” Lance’s deep voice permeated to her insides. “Are you awake?”

“Yes.”

“I brought you breakfast.”

He shouldn’t have. “I don’t need waiting on.”

“What if I like doing it?”

“Then I’m very grateful, but I need to shower first.”

“Go ahead. I’ll bring the tray in and wait for you.”

“Okay. I’ll hurry.”

Excitement welled up in her that he was going to show her his mother’s house today. It would be her baby’s home. Her home with Lance.

Three weeks from now and she wouldn’t have to see Corinne again except on the chance meeting at the château. In the meantime she and Lance would be occupied getting ready to be parents.

She grabbed a blouse to wear with her skirt before scurrying into the bathroom to shower and dress. He was going to get tired of seeing her in the same outfit. When they went to Rennes today, she would ask him to take her to a store where she could buy some loose fitting outfits.

After brushing her hair, she let it hang free from a side part. After applying lotion she was ready.

He’d put the tray on the bed. Cold cereal and grapefruit. “This looks good.”

“So do you,” he murmured, eyeing her thoroughly.

He did, too, but she refrained from telling him and started to eat.

This morning he’d donned a light blue suit with a darker blue shirt. No tie. With that burnished skin and blue eyes hot enough to cut steel, she wouldn’t be surprised if the women in town formed lines just to get a look at him.

“Thanks to your presence throughout the night, I slept well.”

“Your body next to mine had the same effect on me. It must be comforting for the baby to be all snug inside you.”

A section of grapefruit caught in her throat before going down. “The problem is, one of these days soon I’m afraid I won’t be able to say the same thing. But I’m not complaining.”

“I’ll give you back rubs. Maybe that will help.”

No. All that would do was arouse certain longings better kept at bay. After their conversation last night, she was a mass of feelings and emotions spiraling out of control.

“Are you the kind of woman who wants to have the baby the natural way?”

She shook her head. “No. I’m a coward and plan to avail myself of the latest epidural.”

“That means no Lamaze class for me?”

“Would you want to do that?”

He studied her over the rim of his coffee cup. “I want to do anything that helps me feel closer to the baby.”

“You can come to all my doctor appointments. I’ll be getting the ultrasound next month.”

“I was already planning on it. Needless to say I’ll be driving you to the hospital when your time comes. I’ve never seen a baby born. Giles and his wife had a little girl last year. He said it was the greatest experience of his life. I’ve envied him that.”

Her heart told her this wasn’t an act on Lance’s part. Having been denied the possibility of creating a child from his own body, he was willing to do whatever it took to be a part of her pregnancy. Andrea was one person who understood that need.

With the last bite of cereal gone, she went over to the dresser where she kept her purse. Reaching for her lipstick she said, “Did you happen to see Corinne while you were downstairs?”

“No. Papa said she had breakfast with him before going for a horseback ride.”

“Does she do a lot of riding?”

“From what I understand.”

“How’s your father this morning?”

“Euphoric. I left him on the phone with Helene.”

“Did he say anything about Corinne?”

“No.”

Her anxious eyes flicked to his. “It’s like waiting for a time bomb we didn’t set to go off.”

Lance nodded grimly. “Papa would like to drive to the house with us, but the doctor says he has to stay in for a couple of more days.”

“There’ll be time enough for that when he’s all better.”

“That’s what I told him. Shall we go?”

He opened the door for her, then followed with the tray. They’d almost reached the foyer when she heard his cell phone ring. She noticed him check the caller ID before he clicked on.

She might not be able to understand French, but the violence of his expression needed no translation.

“What’s happened?” she asked the second he rang off.

There was a white ring around his mouth. “That was the groomsman. Corinne took Tonnerre without permission. He went after her on another horse.

“It seems she tried to jump the fountain, but didn’t succeed. She took a nasty fall and appears concussed, but Tonnerre’s front legs are broken. He’s in agony.”

That meant his beautiful horse would have to be put down.

“Go, Lance—” she cried. “I’ll phone for an ambulance.”

He handed her the tray and his cell phone. “Dial 112. Tell them to come to the Fountain of Youth in the forest. They’ll understand.”

Her heart went with him as he disappeared down the hall toward the kitchen. Poor Tonnerre. He’d carried both her and Lance when she’d been ill. It was going to kill him to have to put his animal out of its misery, but he had no other choice.

In the next instant she set the tray on the nearest credenza and called the emergency number. After getting the details, they said they were on their way.

“Andrea?”

She looked up to discover Geoff standing on the first landing.

“Henri told me Corinne had an accident on one of the horses. Is she all right?”

“The groomsman said he thought she’d be fine. Lance went to see about her.” Andrea hurried up the stairs and walked him back to his suite. They sat down opposite each other in the sitting room.

“I’m relieved he’s with her.”

“He’ll take care of everything. It’s good we hadn’t left for town yet.”

“She’s an excellent rider. I can’t imagine what happened.”

“We’ll find out soon enough. Shall I ask Brigitte to bring you some tea while we wait to hear?”

Andrea didn’t dare tell him the truth. She’d let his son explain. Thanks to Henri’s discretion, Geoff didn’t appear too upset.

“No, no. As long as we’re alone for a minute, I want to tell you something.”

“What is it?”

For the first time since she’d known him, Geoff seemed hesitant.

“When you’ve been a mother for a number of years, you’ll understand better what I’m about to say to you.”

“Go on,” she urged gently.

“Our children mean everything to us. We know their joys and their fears. We know what makes them happy. We know what brings them pain.

“Choosing you for his wife has made Lance happy, and that makes me happy. But Corinne is devastated. She fell in love with him when she first met him. There’s been no one else for her.”

“He told me he suspected as much,” she admitted.

“That’s good. There should be no secrets between the two of you. Corinne has always felt rejected. I’ve tried everything to help her feel secure, but nothing can completely make up for a bad mother and an absentee father.”

“You’re right.”

He lifted his hands. “It’s no one’s fault, and I’m not trying to hurt you. Heaven knows it’s been difficult for Lance who didn’t ask for any of this.”

He looked at her with a hint of pleading. She sensed he was going to beg them to postpone the wedding for an indefinite period.

Once again Corinne had manipulated Geoff, but this time Lance wouldn’t fall for it. By driving his horse to its death she’d done such an unforgivable thing.

“Would it be too much to ask if you and Lance got married in private right away?”

Andrea was so surprised, she almost fell off the chair. “You mean just forego the wedding trappings?”

He nodded sadly. “It would be the kindest thing you could do for Corinne. She’s told everyone we know that Lance was going to marry her when he returned from the service.

“Hearing you plan your wedding and the talk about the baby last evening was too much for her. If you get married quietly, it will save her the extra humiliation. I know my son. He wants to give you the wedding of your dreams, but more than that, he wants you.

“I realize I’m asking a great sacrifice of you. The two of you deserve to be feted. There’s nothing I’d love more, but—”

“You don’t need to say another word, Geoff. I already had a big wedding when I married Richard. I don’t need another one.”

“You mean it?” his voice trembled.

“With all my heart. Why deepen that hurt? When I see Lance later, I’ll convince him it’s the only thing to do.”

“If anyone can get to him, you can.”

Except Lance wouldn’t need convincing. If he were in love with Andrea, it would be different. But what he wanted was a son. He would be glad they didn’t have to wait three more weeks to go through a ceremony to make everything legal.

It would mean they could move into his mother’s house in the next few days. After this accident Andrea had no desire to be around Corinne.

“Geoff? Why don’t I go to the kitchen and bring us back some tea? I know I could use some.”

“That sounds good to me, too.”

“While I’m gone, why not call Helene back and tell her Lance and I have decided to get married now. Explain it’s because of the baby coming. The doctor wants me to take things easy. Something like that. I’m sure you’ll find the words so she doesn’t question the change in plans.”

“Bless you, ma chérie.“

Andrea hurried downstairs to the kitchen and started fixing the tea. While she was adding the honey, she heard footsteps along the back passage. Suddenly Lance emerged.

“Thank God you’re in here. We had to put Tonnerre down.”





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