Giles knew everything that went on in the Chartier household.
“No. Not for her.”
Luc had a penchant for Greek history. When they wanted to conquer Troy, they presented them a gift at the gates.
On Thursday morning Rachel awakened with a sick, basal skull headache. The kind that always heralded the onset of her period.
When she counted back, she realized her last period had ended around the twenty-eighth of May, over a week before she’d left for France.
With her life in painful chaos, she hadn’t realized until now how late it was.
Once years ago, after moving to the UK following her college graduation, she hadn’t had a period for ten months.
It had frightened her that she might have developed endometriosis like her poor sister, who’d been plagued with female problems. But the doctor had told her it was because she’d gone to a different climate.
Sometimes relocation or emotional upheaval affected the menstrual cycle. He’d given her a shot to bring on her period. Since then she’d never been late.
Needing some painkillers and a shower in that order, Rachel climbed out of bed and staggered to the bathroom, realizing her experience with Luc and the death of her grandfather had turned her inside out and thrown her off schedule.
But she received a real jolt when she checked and discovered there was no sign of her period.
Nothing but the headache.
If she called her doctor, the first thing he would ask after offering his condolences was, “Have you been sexually active?”
For the first time in her life she would have to say yes.
One night out of all the nights of her life.
“Did you take precautions?”
Rachel gripped the sink for support.
No. No precautions. What had happened had been unplanned on both their parts. Their needs had taken over so completely, rational thought had ceased to exist.
Rachel looked at herself in the mirror. Was it possible? Or was her pain responsible for her body being out of whack?
When her cell phone rang, she jumped. It was probably Emma. They were planning to meet at the mansion and start making food. After the funeral and interment tomorrow, the family would be coming back to the house to eat.
She hurried into the bedroom and checked the caller ID. It was her father, always in crisis.
“Dad?”
“I need you at the restaurant as soon as you can get here.”
“But we’re not going to be open until next Monday.”
In honor of her grandfather, John had made the decision that the restaurants would be closed from Wednesday through Sunday.
“Somebody has to keep Bella Lucia running behind the scenes.”
She shook her head. No one bought his martyr act, least of all Rachel.
“The shipment of Chartier wines has arrived.”
A groan sounded in her throat.
Just hearing Luc’s name made her heart beat so fast, it was unhealthy.