When she opened the doors, Abby didn’t know what she expected. But it wasn’t the metallic blue Maserati GranTurismo convertible sitting in the courtyard with the top down.
A car like that cost close to two hundred thousand dollars. Her gaze met Raoul’s. “Where did this come from?”
“I parked it around the other side of the château.” He reached for her suitcase and put it in the backseat. “I like the sun and the wind, but I’ll raise the top if you prefer.”
“No, please—I love a convertible!”
A heart-stopping white smile broke out on his tanned face. “A woman who doesn’t mind getting her hair mussed.”
“Give it time.”
Little did she know when she’d had her hair cut that she’d be thankful for the short style while he drove her to France. She felt his eyes on her legs as he helped her into the passenger side. Abby was glad she was wearing jeans.
Every look, every slight touch made her come alive. When he got behind the wheel, he angled a piercing glance at her. “We’ll be home in three hours. Fasten your seat belt.”
Abby’s misgivings about getting in over her head intensified as they wound around to the E23. It was too late to back out now. For a little while neither of them talked as they headed in a northwestern direction toward France. He drove with the expertise of a race car driver.
They stopped at the border for a cola and some madeleines. She could have brushed her hair, but didn’t see the point since they’d be off again in a few minutes.
He ate a couple of the cookies. “These are some of my favorites.”
“I like them too. Would you tell me where we’re going exactly in Burgundy?”
“To my home outside the village of Vosne-Romanée. It’s near the city of Dijon. The Regnac Capet Decorvet Domaine was founded in 1475 by my family twenty generations ago.”
“How wonderful to have a family history that dates back so far.” This man had an amazing heritage. But he also had a heartache no one could forget or totally recover from.
“When my great-grandfather died, my grandfather became the head of the corporation. He’s still alive, but because of their old age and maladies, he and my grandmother keep to their own suite in the château with nurses and a health care giver taking care of them.
“My father, Étienne, the eldest child, was made the head, but unfortunately he’s been stricken with an aggressive form of arthritis and is in a wheelchair. My mother, Hélène-Claire, and a health care giver look after him. Because of his condition, he made me the head of the corporation a year ago.
“But my uncles Pierre and Lucien, and my aunts Mireille and Abeline, along with their spouses and children, have been upset about my ascension and have a great deal to say about every move I make.”
“Why is that?”
“As I told you earlier, everyone in the family wants to be in charge.”
“But that doesn’t make sense.”
“You’re right, so don’t even try.”
There had to be more to it than that. “It sounds like the Decorvet dynasty has been prolific,” she observed. “That is a lot of family. Do they all live close by?”
“For those not living in the château, they’re too close.”
“Which king was it who complained to his minister that he had no friends, and the minister said, ‘Of course not. You’re the king!’?”
“Where did you acquire such wisdom?” he murmured, but she heard him.
“Do you have siblings?”
“Two. My sister, Josette, is married to Paul. They have a three-year-old boy Maurice, and are expecting their second child. My brother, Jean-Marc, is still single and works in the exporting office for our corporation with Uncle Pierre. Everyone is involved in some way in the family business, thus the friction.”
Abby remembered his telling her about the relative that left for Switzerland because of the dark side of his family’s relationships. The one who’d found the supposed notebook with Byron’s writing. Friction was no doubt the polite description of what went on within the Decorvet inner circle.
“As I see it, your family can’t help but have difficult moments. It’s natural because they work in the same business.” She shook her head. “That would never work for my family.
“Tell me about yours.”