Transformed Into The Frenchman’s Mistress

Alec tipped back his head and laughed.

Charlotte squirmed. Had she completely misread his signals? Made a colossal fool of herself?

No. She couldn’t have been that far wrong. The man had once tried to give her his hotel room key.

“I’m not asking to sleep with you, Charlotte.”

She took an unladylike swig of her own wine, struggling desperately not to blush in humiliation. “Well. Good. That’s good.”

He grinned. “Although, I definitely wouldn’t say no if you-”

“Shut up.”

He clamped his jaw.

She waited as long as she could stand.

“Fine. What is it-”

“Charlotte!” came Raine’s delighted voice. She rushed through an open set of French doors, dropping her purse and a briefcase on a lounger. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

She wore a slim, tailored black dress and charcoal stockings, and her high-heeled shoes clattered on the stone deck. Her dark hair was cut in a chic bob, and her bright red mouth was sliced in a smile of delight.

“The trip came up suddenly,” said Charlotte, coming to her feet, as did Alec beside her. “But I thought you were away until Tuesday.” She cursed her stupidity at rushing the conversation with Alec. If only she’d waited a few hours!

“I talked to Henri. He told me you were here.” There was a clear admonishment in the tone.

But then they embraced in a tight hug, Raine laughing with delight in Charlotte’s ear.

When they finally separated, Alec broke in. “Bonsoir, ma soeur.”

Raine glanced over, feigning surprise. “Alec? I didn’t see you there.”

He shook his head and held out his arms.

She walked into a warm hug and an affectionate kiss for each cheek.

Watching them, regret twitched reflexively inside Charlotte. She glanced away, wishing she could have such an easy relationship with Jack.

“So,” said Raine as she settled into the third chair. “What are we eating?” She sniffed at the pissaladiere. Then she lifted the wine bottle, brows arching at the label. “Tres bon.”

“I know how to be a good host, even if you don’t,” said Alec.

“I didn’t even know she was coming.” Raine tipped the bottle up, and up. “It’s empty.”

Alec reached behind him, exchanging it for a full one while Raine helped herself to a slice of the pie.

“What are we talking about?” she asked, glancing from one to the other.

Alec deftly drilled into the wine cork. “Charlotte wants to use the chateau as a movie set.”

Charlotte cringed at the bald statement.

But Raine looked intrigued. “Really?”

Charlotte nodded.

“That’s fantastic.”

“I didn’t say yes,” Alec warned.

“Why on earth not?” asked Raine.

He popped the cork. “Because you interrupted us.”

“But you were about to,” she prompted.

“I was about to suggest a compromise.”

Charlotte reminded herself it wasn’t sex. Though there was still a nervous churning in her stomach. What would Alec want? More important, what was she willing to give?

Not sex. No. Of course not. Still…

He continued speaking, and she forced herself to pay attention to the words. “I was going to say yes-”

Raine clapped her hands together in delight.

“Provided,” Alec put in firmly, and Charlotte listened closely. “Provided we have an understanding that the third floor is off-limits. As is the south gallery.”

“Done,” Charlotte quickly answered, sticking out her hand to shake.

“Nobody goes in the rose garden.” He didn’t shake her hand.

She nodded vigorously. Easy. Piece of cake. According to Jack, landowners always had a list of stipulations.

“Or any of the outbuildings. Shooting stops by ten every night. My staff are not part of the production crew. And you stay in residence to make sure it goes smoothly.”

“Abso-” Charlotte snapped her jaw shut, dropping her hand to the table. “What?”

“I don’t want any extra work for my staff,” he repeated.

“Not that part.”

“It’s perfect,” Raine sang, grasping Charlotte’s forearm in a friendly squeeze. “We can hang out, visit. It’ll be like we’re back in college.”

“I can’t move in,” Charlotte protested. “I have a job back in Monte Allegro. My grandfather needs me. There’s a summit in Athens on the twenty-fifth.”

Alec pinned her with a look. “So you’re willing to inconvenience me, but not yourself?”

“I’m not…” She gazed into his mocking eyes.

He raised a brow.

Instinct told her to grab the yes before he could change his mind. But here? With Alec? For weeks on end?

She thought back to the hotel room key, and to the way her stomach had quivered in daring anticipation for the split second when she’d thought about accepting it. She was older now, wiser, and she knew full well the importance of leading a perfectly circumspect life-one that didn’t include a stint on the front page of the tabloids.

But the quiver was still there. And she knew that he knew. She could fight it all she wanted, intellectualize it all she wanted, but the bald truth was that she was attracted to the man. She and several thousand other women fantasized about a night in Alec Montcalm’s bed. And Alec would take advantage of that in any way he could.

But then she pictured Jack’s joy, her pride when she told him she’d succeeded. She thought about her grandmother and the whole Hudson clan. For once, she’d be part of the team.

“I’ll stay,” she told Alec.

Raine squealed in delight.

Alec reached for his wineglass, raising it in a mock toast while his dark, molten eyes told her the chase was on.

“They will hound you,” said Kiefer, as he geared his mountain bike down for the incline.

“She’s a friend of Raine’s,” Alec defended, following suit, putting more power to his pedals.

They were on a dirt road that wound along the ridgeline above the Montcalm estate. The tires bumped beneath Alec, and sweat began to form at his hairline as the sun cleared the eastern horizon, lighting up the river and the patchwork of fields and woods below.

“So?” Kiefer demanded. “It’s a Hollywood movie. There’ll be press all over it. You know how the Japanese are going to react-”

“It’s under control,” Alec cut in, even though the venture wasn’t anywhere near under control. He was attracted to Charlotte, and he’d let that attraction overrule his logic. Filming a movie in his living room? Kiefer, his vice president, was right to be ticked off. They’d met with a high-priced image consultant only last week, and Alec had agreed to try to be more circumspect in his personal life.

“Kana Hanako wants a business partner, not a playboy.”

“It’s a business deal,” said Alec, taking a swig from his water bottle, refusing to acknowledge Kiefer’s point. “They’re renting the chateau.”

“Who’s the star?”

“Ridley Sinclair.”