His touch was electric as he walked her back to the car.
Raoul didn’t speak while they drove to the estate and passed through the gate. Instead of parking in front of the petit château, he took another route that circled around the grand château. They wound up at a back entrance.
“I’ve brought you to my office, one of two places on the estate where I have completely privacy. The other is the cottage where I live.” He helped her out of the car.
“You don’t stay in the château?”
“Not anymore. After the funeral, I needed to live strictly alone.”
“I can understand that,” she whispered. He and his wife must have had a great love. At times the memories had to torture him.
He opened the door and let them inside. “This room was once known as le Salon de Dionysos, the Greek god of wine. For a hundred years it was used during the yearly vendange, what you would call the grape harvest. But last year I claimed it for my Saint des Saints.”
“What does that mean?”
“I believe you refer to it as your inner sanctum.”
Abby liked the sound of it in French. After he turned on a few lights, she started to walk around the huge vaulted room. She was speechless. It had been modernized to create a state-of-the-art office with comfortable furniture.
But everywhere she looked on the walls and ceilings were colorful scenes of the famous god riding on the back of a panther or walking through a pine forest with an ivy wreath on his curly head. In another section Dionysus was being pulled in a chariot by a pair of beasts.
She rolled her eyes at him. “This room is so spectacular I don’t see how you get any work done. When you were a little boy, you must have been in heaven running around in here. I don’t have to see the rest of the château to know it has to be one of Burgundy’s treasures.”
He’d been checking information on his computer. “A costly one. Last year France’s grape harvest was among the smallest in thirty years, down ten percent from the year before.”
She frowned. “That has to be troubling news to every vintner.”
“Especially for those who haven’t modernized. For the last ten years I’ve been navigating through the high-tech investments necessary to keep this place going. When I lift my eyes, the decor in here keeps me grounded to my roots and reminds me of what is important.”
“Taking care of your family means you carry a heavy weight on your shoulders.” Plus the terrible personal tragedy that had to have been so devastating for him.
“I’m not complaining. I simply want us to understand each other better.”
So did Abby who didn’t know nearly enough about him. She walked over to one of the upholstered chairs near the massive fireplace and sat down.
Raoul’s black eyes gleamed in the soft light as he moved toward her and perched on the end of the couch next to her. “I realize you don’t trust me yet.”
“We hardly know each other.”
“I’m afraid I’ve expected too much from you.”
For him to admit to any vulnerability came as a complete surprise. “Now I’m going to ask you what’s wrong.”
He made a strange sound in his throat. “I shouldn’t have brought you to the estate.”
Her breath caught. “Because there’s no notebook after all?”
In the next instant Raoul’s hand shot out to cover hers. “You know there is,” his voice grated. “And you know that’s not what I meant!” A tiny nerve throbbed at the corner of his compelling mouth.
“I’m sorry I said that.”
“You had every right. Would it shock you if I told you I wanted to bring you back with me from the moment I saw you sitting on the bench at the train station? But life on the estate is like living in a fish bowl. I would spare you that if I could.”
“Well, that can be easily remedied,” she said to hide the sudden stab of pain she knew he hadn’t inflicted on purpose. “I’ll stay at a hotel in the village tonight and leave for Venice tomorrow as planned.”
“Without seeing the poem you came to look at?”
“Raoul—you’re confusing me. Do I seem that emotionally fragile to you?”