“I was thinking the same thing,” Ginger murmured. “What I don’t understand is why he feels he has to bribe you. A man as attractive as he is could get his way with a woman anytime without using subterfuge to entice her. He must want you to go with him very badly.”
Not as badly as I want to go.
“That’s what I’m thinking,” Zoe concluded. “I don’t think I could do it, but I guess it all depends on how much he means to you already.”
Abby averted her eyes. “You guys would be shocked if you knew the intensity of my feelings.”
“If they’re that strong, then all I can say is, don’t let him hurt you like Nigel did.”
Heat filled Abby’s cheeks. “That’s my dilemma, Ginger. I don’t want to get involved with him, yet I’m so drawn to him, I can hardly bear the thought of never seeing him again.”
“Then it sounds like you’ve made up your mind to go with him.”
“I don’t know. I believe he’s telling the truth, and he has invited you guys to come too. We could all take a look at it.”
“If it exists,” Ginger interjected. “But let’s face it. You want to be with him, whether he has something to show you or not, right?”
“Yes,” she whispered, “but I need more time to think about it. Why don’t you two take off for Italy so I don’t hold you up. I’m going to have another talk with Raoul this afternoon. If I decide it’s not worth the risk, I’ll fly from Geneva to Venice and meet you there tomorrow. How does that sound?”
Zoe smiled. “Whatever you decide, we’re behind you.”
“Just be careful,” Ginger cautioned before they all hugged.
Since they’d already packed the night before, there was nothing to do but walk them out to the rental car. “We’ll phone each other every day.”
“Absolument,” Abby assured them with one of the French words she loved and waved them off. Then she walked back in the farmhouse to phone Raoul from her bedroom phone. Her heart beat so hard in her throat she could hardly ask Gabrielle to put her through to him.
“Abby—” came his deep voice. “I was wondering if I’d hear back from you. What’s the verdict?”
Maybe she’d regret this, but she couldn’t stop herself. She longed to be with him and nothing else mattered. “The girls have already left for Italy.”
“Which means they don’t believe what I told you.”
She gripped the phone tighter. “They want me to make up my own mind.”
“And have you?”
“Yes. The likening of the vineyards to labyrinths sounded... Byronic. Not every charlatan is that clever.”
There was silence on the other end for a few seconds. “How soon can you be ready to travel and finding out if that label fits me?”
“I’m ready now. If I come with you, it will only be for an overnight. Once I’ve seen the notebook, I’ll be leaving for Italy.”
“I admire you for being more open-minded than your friends.”
Or so much more foolish.
“I’ll pick you up outside in five minutes.”
“In what?”
“It won’t be the Renault.”
“I’m sure Gabrielle and Louis will be relieved. So will I. I wasn’t sure it was going to make it back from the village.”
Abby hung up on his chuckle and hurried to call Gabrielle to thank her for everything. Once that was done, she reached for her suitcase and walked down the stairs, wondering what on earth had come over her. How could she be this excited when she might be welcoming a heartache that could mean her ruination? But somehow it didn’t matter.
When she opened the doors, Abby didn’t know what she expected. But it wasn’t the metallic blue Maserati GranTurismo convertible sitting in the courtyard with the top down.
A car like that cost close to two hundred thousand dollars. Her gaze met Raoul’s. “Where did this come from?”
“I parked it around the other side of the château.” He reached for her suitcase and put it in the backseat. “I like the sun and the wind, but I’ll raise the top if you prefer.”
“No, please—I love a convertible!”
A heart-stopping white smile broke out on his tanned face. “A woman who doesn’t mind getting her hair mussed.”
“Give it time.”
Little did she know when she’d had her hair cut that she’d be thankful for the short style while he drove her to France. She felt his eyes on her legs as he helped her into the passenger side. Abby was glad she was wearing jeans.
Every look, every slight touch made her come alive. When he got behind the wheel, he angled a piercing glance at her. “We’ll be home in three hours. Fasten your seat belt.”
Abby’s misgivings about getting in over her head intensified as they wound around to the E23. It was too late to back out now. For a little while neither of them talked as they headed in a northwestern direction toward France. He drove with the expertise of a race car driver.
They stopped at the border for a cola and some madeleines. She could have brushed her hair, but didn’t see the point since they’d be off again in a few minutes.
He ate a couple of the cookies. “These are some of my favorites.”
“I like them too. Would you tell me where we’re going exactly in Burgundy?”
“To my home outside the village of Vosne-Romanée. It’s near the city of Dijon. The Regnac Capet Decorvet Domaine was founded in 1475 by my family twenty generations ago.”
“How wonderful to have a family history that dates back so far.” This man had an amazing heritage. But he also had a heartache no one could forget or totally recover from.
“When my great-grandfather
