Falling For Her French Tycoon (Escape To Provence 1) - Page 21

This evening she put on a pale blue short-sleeved blouse and a white skirt with a small blue print. She hadn’t worn anything dressy around him. Her hair had natural curl. She brushed it until it swished against her shoulders from a side part, then she put on her leather sandals. Nathalie wore no makeup other than lipstick.

When he knocked on the door, she opened it and sucked in her breath. He stood there wearing a silky black shirt and gray trousers. No man had ever looked so devastatingly gorgeous to her. “Dominic—”

Tonight was her chance to ask him questions about Antoinette. She’d started down this path for Alain’s sake and needed to see it through. “Thanks for being on time. I’m hungry again.”

He chuckled and backed around. “And here I thought I’d have to wait. You’re a constant surprise.”

“So are you.”

Dominic darted her an amused glance with those gleaming black eyes before they got in the car and headed for Vence. He drove through the town and up into the hills. They wound around to a restaurant with date palms and cypress trees overlooking the breathtaking landscape.

He escorted her inside and they were shown to a table out on the veranda with a sweeping view. The waiter handed them menus.

“Everything’s good here.”

Nathalie looked over the options. “What’s your favorite?”

“Suprême de veau rôti, crème provençale.”

“That sounds delicious.” She loved veal. “I’ll try it.”

The waiter came back with coffee and a wine list.

Dominic’s gaze held hers as he told the waiter, “We’ll pass on the wine.” After giving him their order, the waiter walked off.

“I would imagine wine from the Fontesquieu vineyards makes up a good portion of every restaurant’s list in Provence and elsewhere.”

“My cousin Raoul could tell you all about it. He’s in charge of marketing and sales.”

“That has to be an enormous responsibility.”

“But nothing like the responsibility you have as a pharmacist. When you make a mistake, it could be life

threatening.”

She nodded. “That’s true.”

“What made you choose that for your career?”

Now would be the perfect time to tell him about the family Alain had been born into.

“My parents were both pharmacists. That’s how they met and got married. I was born soon after their marriage, then my papa died. I never knew him, only my stepfather, also a druggist who was a widower with a daughter. He married my mother. I grew up wanting to be a pharmacist too. After I graduated, they took me on at the pharmacy they owned.”

“Sounds like my family.”

“In a way.” Their eyes held. “My stepfather ran everything until he died several years ago.”

“I’m sorry.”

“So am I,” she whispered. “Since then my mother has hired another pharmacist to help us.”

“Do you live with your mother?”

“Yes.” And one precious boy.

Their dinner came, interrupting their conversation. She started eating. “This veal is superb. I’m glad you suggested it.”

“It never disappoints. Tell me, are you an only child?”

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