Abby shook her head, not immune to the tortured tone in his voice. “I don’t know what to think,” she cried.
“Then don’t,” he said before covering her mouth with a kiss so hungry and full of desire that she moaned. Finding herself immersed in sensations her body had never known before, she slid her hands up the silk covering his chest and wrapped her arms around his neck.
As Abby began kissing him back, she was overwhelmed by her need for him and what he was doing to her. She couldn’t get close enough to him. The thought of his stopping was agony.
He rubbed her back and hips, molding her to him. “Mon Dieu, you have no idea what you do to me,” he whispered against her lips. “To think I almost put off going to Switzerland until the end of the month.”
“I shouldn’t have come with you. My friends warned me, but I couldn’t help myself. Verlaine was right about young fools.”
“But he got it right.” Raoul shook her gently. “Now that you’re here, I’ll take you to my grandparents’ apartment in the morning. Come on. Much as I’d like to keep you in here all night, I’ll drive you back to the petit château.”
He kept hold of her hand during the quick trip. When he pulled up in front, he took her to the door and unlocked it for her.
“Good night, Abby. I don’t dare kiss you again or I’ll never leave your apartment. Do you hear what I’m saying?” he ground out with a fierceness that shook her before he disappeared.
* * *
Abby awakened early the next morning after a restless night. Today was the day she was going to see something that might be a fantastic new discovery to delight the literary world. But in truth she was still reeling from being in Raoul’s arms last night while he’d kissed her senseless.
Everything she’d promised herself not to do, she’d done, like falling in love with him. In his office, he’d pulled her against him and she’d gone willingly, clinging to his tall, hard-muscled body. When he’d picked her up at the train station, she’d known deep down in her bones that she’d wanted to become a part of this man, to merge with him.
Though Ginger and Zoe had told her she’d be taking a risk to go with him, she couldn’t help how she was feeling right now. By tonight she would have flown to Venice—far away from his fish bowl—but for the rest of today, she would be with Raoul and it was all she could ask of life.
She debated what to wear to meet his grandparents and finally chose a summery, leaf-green blouse and a green-on-white print skirt. Abby wanted to make a good impression on the relatives he loved.
Her heart jumped when she heard his knock on the entrance door. She hurried across the salon to open it.
To her surprise he wore a dressy black suit with a white shirt and monogrammed tie. Talk about a ducal presence. She couldn’t put the image out of her mind. He smelled divine, having just come from the shower, but didn’t try to kiss her. His striking looks caused her to stare.
“Raoul—I didn’t realize I should get more dressed up.”
His gaze traveled over her features. “You look perfect. Shall we go? I’m anxious to be rid of the charlatan image you have of me.”
She swallowed hard. “I should never have said it.”
One black brow quirked. “If I’d been in your shoes, I’d have said something much worse. Shall we go?”
“Yes.”
He closed the door. They walked to his car and he drove to the château, taking them to the south entrance. “My grandparents live in a suite on the second floor. We won’t stay long because they tire easily.”
They passed one of the security guards at the door and climbed the marble staircase to the next level. He opened one of the tall paneled double doors and ushered her inside to the main sitting room. A brunette care giver came to greet him.
“Lisette? I’d like you to meet my friend Abby Grant from the United States.” He turned to Abby. “Lisette takes care of my grandparents like they were her own parents. She’s been with them for two years and we’re very lucky to have her.”
Abby gave the woman a warm smile. “It’s so nice to meet you.”
“They’re very excited to know Raoul has brought such an important guest. I’ve taken them into the dining room.”
He put a hand on the back of Abby’s waist and guided her through another set of French doors to the dining room where his grandparents were waiting for them.
“I bought the latest wheeled chairs that can be used as beds if necessary, so they can be comfortable when there are visitors. Lisette takes impeccable care of them.”
“I can see that.” Abby could feel his love for them.
The windows looked out on the grounds. Breakfast had been laid out on the round table. There were flowers everywhere.
“What a beautiful room.”
“It’s their favorite place,” Raoul murmured.
“Mon enfant.” His silver-haired grandmother lifted her frail arms to him.
His gray-haired grandfather had a harder time and only mouthed his name. He made a hand motion so Raoul would give him a hug.
“Céline and Honoré, I want you to meet the woman I told you about when I called you from Switzerland.” Before they’d driven away from the vineyard, he’d let them know he’d fallen in love with her. “This is Abby Grant, the distinguished literature professeur from San José, California.
“It’s a shame Auguste never got to meet her. She’s a kindred spirit, Papi. Because the two of you share a love for Lord Byron’s poetry. I wanted her to see the notebook Auguste sent to you.”
“It’s right here,” his grandmother spoke up. “Lisette brought it from the study.”
“Why don’t you sit by my grandfather, Abby? I’ll hand it to you.”
After she did
