Love Restored by Lieze Gerber

Author:Lieze Gerber
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: romance, contemporary
Publisher: Crimson Romance, an imprint of F+W Media, Inc.
Published: 2012-08-27T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

Rachel closed her eyes, breathed deeply and tried to slow her heartbeat.

“So much for keeping it professional,” she said aloud. It was clear that working with Alain on this project was going to be much more difficult than she’d anticipated.

But why did he kiss me?

And why did I kiss him back?

She willed her mind to step methodically through her actions over the last couple of weeks, analyzing her behavior, critical of every word she said, every movement she made, every hint she might have left. Had she led him on? And if she had, what could she do to avoid a repeat of what just happened on the staircase?

Acutely aware of the terms under which Alain agreed to continue work with Swift & Simon, she didn’t want to agitate the man any further. After all, he was her client.

Or was he?

Her contract was with Chateau Léon, signed by Eugene. Surely Alain couldn’t simply cancel the contract if he was uncomfortable working with her. Or could he?

A low, dull headache began to take up residence in the back of her head, and Rachel leaned forward, closed her eyes, and pinched her nose.

“I fell, for crying out loud,” she said with conviction. No need to be apologetic, or change her behavior. “You will just have to keep your hands in your pockets, Mr. Alain Léon,” she muttered, irritation shallow in her voice.

“Ah, Rachel, you bring pleasure to my eyes and warmth to my soul.” Her eyes shot wide open as Eugene’s warm voice interrupted her thoughts. She turned and smiled bravely at him.

His hands trembled when he took her shoulders to kiss her on both cheeks. Rachel frowned — he was exhausted. She had tried to slow the pace and shorten the hours when Eugene worked with her, but he wouldn’t have any of it. Now that the design was selected, it seemed almost as if he was rushing the project, urging Rachel on.

Eugene turned his attention to the drawing on the table. His stooped figure seemed so fragile, his shoulders so thin. He needed to rest. The work was sapping all his energy.

“Let’s get some fresh air,” she suggested gently, and took Eugene’s bony hand in hers, willing him to accept her invitation. Eugene looked at her, a tired smile on his face, his deep blue eyes watery and a little sad.

She led them to a warm spot in the sun, and they sat down on a cast iron bench in the forecourt. In silence, Eugene crossed his legs and arms and let his gaze fall on the valley in front of them.

The faint, familiar smell of wood fire hung in the air. Farmers were busy pruning their vines, burning the dry, twisted clippings, sending long, lazy blue smoke columns into the sky. In the far distance, the majestic eagle-shaped rock on the island, just off La Ciotat, rose from the blue Mediterranean Sea, proudly poised as if surveying the horizon for prey.

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