She pointed to the view on the driver’s side of the car. ‘You can see the olive groves now. The castle will be visible very soon.’
The lovely lines of the old stone château appeared around the next bend in the road and Tilly was transfixed.
‘It’sincroyable,’ she breathed.
It was a castle for a princess. Pure Disney, with its turrets and round towers and balconies. The soft creep of ivy and archedgateways in stone walls hinted at secret courtyards and hidden gardens full of roses and birdsong and butterflies.
She turned to see if Angus was admiring this fabulous location as much as she was. He lifted an eyebrow.
‘Do you love this castle?’
He knew she did. And he knew why.
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Do you?’
‘It’s a French château,’ he said. ‘In an olive grove and the sun is getting ready to set on a lovely summer’s day in the South of France.’ His lips twitched. ‘What’s not to love?’
He was teasing her. Reminding her what she’d said about the little red car.
‘It’s a sports car. It’s a cabriolet. It’s red…’
She liked that he’d remembered but, for some reason, her smile was fading and she was finding it very difficult to break that eye contact.
They were about to be shown to a cottage that Monique had told her was out of sight in the middle of one of the olive groves. They were going to be cut off from the outside world for the night.
Alone.
Together.
Tilly only managed to drag her gaze from Angus as Monique stopped the car with a jolt.
If anything was going to happen between them, she thought, it would be tonight.
And that made her, suddenly, very nervous.
* * *
The cottage had once been the dwelling of a tenant farmer, Monique told them as she unlocked the door and left them alone. Built of stone, it had a slate roof with enough mossgrowing on it to make it seem completely at home amongst the forest of ancient olive trees, which had been pruned in the traditional goblet shape and were open enough to let the sunlight and air through their branches. The grass beneath the trees was short, being constantly trimmed by small goats who were wandering freely, the bells around their necks chiming softly as they moved.
There was a cobbled outdoor courtyard, framed by olive trees, that also had puddles of moss around terracotta pots full of red geraniums, along with a small, wooden table and two chairs beneath a grapevine-smothered wrought-iron gazebo. A champagne bottle on the table had been serving as a candlestick long enough for layered drips of wax to have hidden any label.
It was as unpretentious and rustic and perfect as the meal that the château housekeeper, Marie, delivered as the light changed to the soft, slow dusk of a Provençal summer evening.
‘C’est simple,’ she told them, with an apologetic smile, putting earthenware bowls and a basket of sliced baguette onto the small white linen cloth she had laid on the table. She took a book of matches from her apron pocket and lit the candle. ‘Mais bon appétit.’
Tilly held her breath, wondering if Angus would be annoyed enough to snuff out that symbol of a romantic dinner for two, but he seemed to be ignoring it as he poured what was probably a local rosé from the jug into their glasses. The chicken, simmered in an oven with garlic and herbs, lemon and olives until it was falling apart, smelled absolutely delicious but Tilly found herself unable to swallow a single mouthful.
She was so aware of Angus that it felt like every nerve in her body was tingling. Every time she looked away up from where she was toying with the food in her bowl, she could see him closing his eyes as he savoured the spoonful of shredded chicken and olives he’d just put into his mouth or tearing chunks ofbread to dip into the sauce or –oh, mon Dieu– licking his lips and making small appreciative sounds.
He soon noticed that she wasn’t eating.
‘Not hungry?’ he asked succinctly.
Shewas. But food was not what her body was craving.
‘It’s very good,’ he added.
The goats were watching them and a small brown and white one plucked up the courage to come closer. Tilly pulled a bit of crust off a slice of baguette and held it out. The goat was delighted.
