“What does that mean?”
“I believe you refer to it as your inner sanctum.”
Abby liked the sound of it in French. After he turned on a few lights, she started to walk around the huge vaulted room. She was speechless. It had been modernized to create a state-of-the-art office with comfortable furniture.
But everywhere she looked on the walls and ceilings were colorful scenes of the famous god riding on the back of a panther or walking through a pine forest with an ivy wreath on his curly head. In another section Dionysus was being pulled in a chariot by a pair of beasts.
She rolled her eyes at him. “This room is so spectacular I don’t see how you get any work done. When you were a little boy, you must have been in heaven running around in here. I don’t have to see the rest of the château to know it has to be one of Burgundy’s treasures.”
He’d been checking information on his computer. “A costly one. Last year France’s grape harvest was among the smallest in thirty years, down ten percent from the year before.”
She frowned. “That has to be troubling news to every vintner.”
“Especially for those who haven’t modernized. For the last ten years I’ve been navigating through the high-tech investments necessary to keep this place going. When I lift my eyes, the decor in here keeps me grounded to my roots and reminds me of what is important.”
“Taking care of your family means you carry a heavy weight on your shoulders.” Plus the terrible personal tragedy that had to have been so devastating for him.
“I’m not complaining. I simply want us to understand each other better.”
So did Abby who didn’t know nearly enough about him. She walked over to one of the upholstered chairs near the massive fireplace and sat down.
Raoul’s black eyes gleamed in the soft light as he moved toward her and perched on the end of the couch next to her. “I realize you don’t trust me yet.”
“We hardly know each other.”
“I’m afraid I’ve expected too much from you.”
For him to admit to any vulnerability came as a complete surprise. “Now I’m going to ask you what’s wrong.”
He made a strange sound in his throat. “I shouldn’t have brought you to the estate.”
Her breath caught. “Because there’s no notebook after all?”
In the next instant Raoul’s hand shot out to cover hers. “You know there is,” his voice grated. “And you know that’s not what I meant!” A tiny nerve throbbed at the corner of his compelling mouth.
“I’m sorry I said that.”
“You had every right. Would it shock you if I told you I wanted to bring you back with me from the moment I saw you sitting on the bench at the train station? But life on the estate is like living in a fish bowl. I would spare you that if I could.”
“Well, that can be easily remedied,” she said to hide the sudden stab of pain she knew he hadn’t inflicted on purpose. “I’ll stay at a hotel in the village tonight and leave for Venice tomorrow as planned.”
“Without seeing the poem you came to look at?”
“Raoul—you’re confusing me. Do I seem that emotionally fragile to you?”
He removed his hand and shook his dark, handsome head. “Of course not. But there’s an untouched purity about you I can’t put into words.”
“Pure—that’s the way you see me?”
“You’re the most real woman I’ve ever met. No pretense or affectation. I don’t want that unique quality of yours to be blighted because of your relationship with me.”
“Spoken like a vintner,” she said to lighten his mood, but it didn’t work. “We don’t have a relationship, Raoul.”
“But we could have one,” he fired back. “I’ve told you about Angélique and the baby, but you haven’t shared a word about yourself. Is that because there’s someone else waiting for you when you return to the States? A man who wouldn’t like it to know you were here with me?”
She lifted her eyes. “No. No one.”
He raked a hand through his black hair. “Even if there isn’t, there have to have been many men who wanted a relationship with you.”
“Many?” She shook her head. “I’ve known two men whom I thought I could marry.”
“Why didn’t either of them work out?”
“When I was twenty and an undergraduate, I met a guy called Jim while on vacation in Carmel. He was a fun and easy-going cowboy from Nevada who lived on a cattle ranch. I eventually met his family and spent some time with him there. But hard as I tried, I couldn’t see myself adapting to the life he adored. It was obvious I didn’t love him enough.”
Raoul cocked his dark head. “You were young.”
“True. Four years later I met Nigel, a visiting professor from Cambridge, England. We worked together for two semesters. I fell in love with his accent first.”
Raoul smiled. “One of your quirks.”
“Yes, then I fell for him. He was brilliant and fascinating and wanted to marry me. Right before Christmas break we were planning a spring wedding. While he was teaching a class, a woman came in to his office. She claimed to be his wife and showed me pictures of the two of them with their children.
“Needless to say, I told him I never wanted to see him again. You don’t need to know how ugly it was. But after that experience, I don’t want to be hurt again like that. Not ever.”
“I’m sorry you’ve been through that kind of pain,” he murmured in a voice filled with a compassion she felt through to her insides. “Is that how you ended up in Switzerland?”
She looked up and searched Raoul’s eyes. “When I went to the head of the department and asked for a leave of absence, he told me I could do some research for Magda until the summer, and that brought me to Switzerland.”
“Dieu merci it did. But after what you’ve been through, I’m surprised you agreed to drive here with
