‘They’re a perfect match,’ murmured Hattie as the two of them began discussing their favourite herbs and the best use of them. The words came with a quick pang of envy. Once upon a time she thought she’d found her perfect match. She and Chris had been the best of friends, they’d shared the same opinions, enjoyed the same things, had so much in common. Where had it all gone wrong?
Surreptitiously she studied Luc. There was no denying she’d fallen for him big time – who wouldn’t? – but she wasn’t kidding herself. This was just a holiday romance.
ChapterThirty-Three
Moonlight flooded in through the open shutters, casting long lines of silver between dark shadows. After the bright noise of the day and the lively conversation of the bar earlier in the evening, the quiet stillness of the night resounded in the room. Her body lay draped over Luc, satisfied after making love.
‘You could stay, you know,’ said Luc, his fingers idly stroking her shoulder.
The words tumbled out like an unexpected starburst lighting up the sky, sending Hattie’s emotions scattering in a dozen different directions.
‘Stay?’ Her stomach tightened and her throat constricted with sudden strain.
‘Stay here at the château.’
The offer, request, invitation – she couldn’t decide which – held her fast in a grip of utter indecision. What to say? What to do? What to feel? What to respond?
Caught up in a whirl of conflicting emotions, she was unable to say anything. Her heart thudded so hard that blood hammered at every pulse point.
‘If you wanted to,’ Luc continued stroking her shoulder, as if he were soothing a frightened animal, as if he knew that ‘you could stay’ had launched a grenade into her serene denial of the way things were developing.
Luc waited and she felt the silence heavy in the room. The weight of expectation on her.
‘I can’t stay,’ she finally said. ‘I have to go back.’
‘Why?’ He turned and propped himself on his elbow so that he could look at her face in the silver strobe of moonlight.
Because she was scared.
‘I love you and I think you might love me.’
The quiet declaration punched her, releasing a flood of emotion. She did love him but was love enough?
‘I know you had a bad relationship before but I’m not him.’
‘No, you’re not.’ He really wasn’t. But she was still her. That woman tied and trapped with obligations that her conscience wouldn’t let her shake off. She couldn’t tell him she loved him, it would make it even harder to leave, so instead she asked, ‘What would I do?’
The quick flare of pain in Luc’s eyes made her feel guilty. But it also strengthened her resolve. She couldn’t be responsible for someone’s happiness, not again.
‘You could set up a wedding business here.’
‘Luc, you don’t want that. Remember you want to make champagne.’
‘Originally, yes, because I thought it would impact me, take me away from my work. But it doesn’t and also, I’ve seen how the house has become a home again. It deserves to shine too and be shared with people.’
He made it sound so simple. But she’d done that once before. Given everything up and then she’d been trapped.
‘I … I just can’t. I don’t live here. This is just temporary. It’s not real life.’ The excuses came tumbling out, as if forced out by the tight fist gripping her diaphragm.
‘Do you want to?’ he asked in a soft voice that sent a tiny shiver down her back. The voice of temptation.
The question floored her. Want? What did that have to do with anything? This had been a break, a holiday from real life. She couldn’t stay here for ever.
‘I mean it would be lovely. But … I –’ she shook her head ‘– I just can’t.’
‘Not even to try? For me?’
For him. She closed her eyes. It would be so easy to say yes. For him, but what about her? Could she do it again? Invest her whole life in one other person. End up being responsible for another person’s happiness. The weight of it was already unbearable – could she do it twice over?
