Chapter 1
1
‘ Look out! ’
The urgency in her sister’s voice was enough to make Laura freeze in the heartbeat before she pushed open the driver’s door of the car. A millisecond later, a huge, black motorbike roared past within what seemed like only an inch or two of her fingers, still curved around the latch.
Both women stared as the engine noise changed to a protest of gears being rapidly downshifted. The back wheel locked enough to provide a subtle but still dramatic skid as the rider came to a halt just ahead of them, one booted foot coming down at the last moment to stop the huge bike from tipping too far.
He’d stopped right in front of the destination Laura had programmed into the GPS of the rental car – the highly recommended Provencal estate agency, Dufour Immobilier.
At least the distraction provided a means to wind down a rather intense conversation Laura had been having with her sister about the direction her life was going – or not going – in. Changing the subject might even be enough to stop Ellie getting out of the car while they were still at odds with each other.
‘Has to be a courier,’ she said, as if the identity of the bike rider was what they’d been discussing. ‘Nobody else would drive that badly on a bike at home. He’s got a satchel over his shoulder, so he’s probably delivering a sales and purchase agreement that the agent’s holding his breath for.’
‘Doesn’t look very professional,’ Ellie said. ‘There’s no signage on the bike. What is it, a Harley-Davidson? That’s kind of cool. Maybe he’s a client.’
‘I’d be double-checking his references if he wanted to rent something from our agency. You wouldn’t want to find a commercial weed-growing operation under lights in the garage.’
Ellie snorted. ‘You’re so judgy , Laura.’
Laura was silent. Perhaps she was but, to be fair, she was harder on herself than on anyone else. She’d probably said too much already, but Ellie could do with taking a leaf out of her book and acknowledging what she needed to change in her life. How else were things going to get better? Life wasn’t easy. Or fair. Sometimes you had to work very, very hard to get to where you wanted to be.
Like she had…
They could only see the back of the man as he pulled his helmet off and carelessly slung the strap over the handlebars of the powerful bike before walking into the agency’s office building. His shaggy, dark hair was long enough to be brushing the collar of the leather jacket he was wearing and there was a smear of dirt on the faded blue denim of his jeans. Laura couldn’t see the top of the boots he was wearing but she was deeply suspicious that they might have those curved tops and embroidered stitching popular with cowboys.
‘On second thoughts,’ Laura said, ‘my guess is that he’s a handyman or a gardener. He probably gets employed to do maintenance or repairs on rental properties.’
‘Maybe he’ll be the person who does the work on our house.’
‘Let’s hope he’s better at his job than he is at riding motorbikes, then. He shouldn’t have been anywhere near that close to a parked car.’ Laura turned her head to check the road behind before finally opening her door. ‘It’s two o’clock. Time to do what we came here for.’
To finish what they’d come to the South of France for.
They’d gone straight from the airport in Nice to the house in Tourrettes-sur-Loup that morning. Laura had never driven on the right-hand side of a road before but it was exactly the kind of challenge she thrived on, having discovered long ago that a mix of focus, control and confidence could get you through most of the stickier situations life could throw at you. You just had to be able to rise above the emotional reactions that could undermine what you were trying to achieve.
It was Laura’s independence and ability to problem solve that provided the building blocks of her continuing career success, working as an estate agent. Adding an international property offering to her portfolio might be a new direction but it was one she was more than willing to embrace.
Especially for a stone-built, quintessentially French cottage that was so picturesque it was more than Instagram-worthy, a terrace with a view to the rocky foothills of the Alps that looked like mountains in their own right, forests and a tantalising glimpse of the Mediterranean Sea in the distance. Even a lemon orchard! It would be far more desirable, mind you, when the damage and dust that had accumulated over too many years of neglect were sorted. There were bats residing in the one of the bedrooms. Electrical issues and broken shutters. A garden that was a complete wilderness.
Which was why the partnership she intended to cement with this local agency was the missing piece of the puzzle. They would be able to access tradesmen without being ripped off. They would also be in a position to connect with people who wouldn’t necessarily consider buying a holiday home in the South of France but were here on holiday and found themselves falling in love with the region.
The Gilchrist sisters had an appointment scheduled with the managing director of this company – Monsieur Dufour himself. They went inside. From behind the reception desk an elegant woman, in a plain black dress with a white collar, gave an approving twitch of an eyebrow at the pale, olive-green linen dress that Laura was wearing, but her nostrils flared ever so slightly as she noted Ellie’s jeans and tee shirt.
‘ Bienvenue ,’ she said, directly to Laura. ‘ Vous devez être Mademoiselle Gilchrist .’ She switched to perfect English. ‘Welcome. My name is Blandine. Monsieur Dufour is expecting you both. Come this way, please.’
Both the younger women came to a halt the moment they were ushered into a large office.
They exchanged a glance with each other.
Ellie looked as if she was trying not to smile.
The man standing behind the antique desk was definitely smiling.
Laura had never felt less like smiling.
Because she was staring at the… cowboy . How on earth could someone who looked so… so… disreputable be the managing director of an estate agency whose outstanding reputation had reached well beyond the borders of his own country?
He had hazel eyes, she noticed in the briefest moment of eye contact that could be considered polite as she grappled with having to try and readjust her judgement of this man.
A dark hazel that was a golden-tinged shade of a brown that reminded her of, what… milk chocolate? Not quite as dark as his hair – or that designer stubble, for that matter – but it added up to a dark impression.
Sinfully dark…
And he was looking at her with such a blatantly admiring gaze. As if she was the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen in his life. With a crinkle at the corners of his eyes as if he knew perfectly well that the admiration was not being reciprocated but he was amused, rather than offended.
Good grief…
The confidence of that look was as disturbing as finding she needed to interact with someone so inappropriately dressed or groomed but, quite inexplicably, Laura had to dismiss an urge to touch her hair – like a teenager trying to get the hang of flirting? How ridiculous! Laura had never flirted deliberately in her life. She was far more comfortable taking the hand that was being extended towards her, in the wake of Noah Dufour’s introduction, for a brief but firm handshake and another graze of eye contact that was short but to the point. This meeting was purely for business purposes.
Somehow, Noah Dufour managed to hold that moment of eye contact, however, and this time Laura had to stop herself snatching her hand, rather than her gaze, away from his, because it felt as though his touch was burning her skin.
Not that he gave any sign of having felt that heat himself.
‘ Enchanté ,’ he said, still wearing that undeniably charming smile. ‘I am delighted to meet you both. Please… sit down. Can I get you some coffee? Water? Wine, perhaps…?’
‘No. Thank you.’ Laura shook her head as she sat down, smoothing her dress over her knees. She wouldn’t have been at all surprised if one of the cupboards in this office was stocked with an extensive selection of wine. With time on his hands, she could imagine this man pouring himself a glass of a fabulous red wine, putting his booted feet up on the large antique desk, leaning back in his chair and possibly striking a match to light a cigarette to add the final touch to the image of a reprobate.
The man was not only charming, he was undeniably charismatic.
The kind of man that Laura Gilchrist would never dream of trusting. Certainly not on a personal level, anyway. She knew, too well, that if you did, they had the power to break your entire world when they broke that trust – and your heart.
Like her father had – for her entire family.
Charismatic, charming men were dangerous.
Laura pulled in a deep, steadying breath. She wasn’t in any danger right now. This was disconcerting, that was all. She’d just been reminded that somewhere, buried so deeply it shouldn’t even be accessible, that pull was still there, like the poignant whiff of a scent that evoked the memory of something precious you could never have again because it had been destroyed beyond repair.
She could still feel a residual warmth from that handshake – as if that match she’d imagined Monsieur Dufour using to light his cigarette was too close to the palm of her own hand – but it was nothing she couldn’t handle. She could actually sense a mental door being slammed shut as she dismissed the visceral response she’d experienced that was both intrusive and unwelcome.
At least this estate agent’s English was as perfect as his receptionist’s had been, the accent only adding more charm to the laid-back welcome they’d received.
‘ Donc …’ Noah opened a file on his desk. ‘I understand you have both inherited a property called La Maisonette in Tourrettes-sur-Loup? From your uncle?’
‘Along with our other sister, yes,’ Laura confirmed. ‘Apparently we are his only living relatives.’
‘And everyone is in agreement that it is to be sold as quickly as possible?’
‘Yes.’ Laura turned her head to include Ellie in the conversation. ‘That’s right, isn’t it?’
‘Pretty much,’ Ellie agreed. She wasn’t meeting Laura’s gaze, however, and her voice was tight.
Was it because they’d gone ahead and made the agreement in the absence of their middle sister, Fiona, who had failed to respond to the invitation to the family meeting? Or was the lukewarm response due to the fact that this inheritance had come from an uncle who had been a complete stranger? They hadn’t even known he existed until the solicitor’s letter had arrived. Or that they had a French heritage of their own. This uncle’s French mother – their grandmother – had only moved to Scotland years after her marriage and the birth of her two sons.
A grandmother they’d never heard of before who’d been born and raised somewhere around this part of France.
It made being here an unwelcome link to the father who had walked out of their lives probably too long ago for Ellie to have any lasting memories of him, but Laura had more than she wanted. Memories that could still surface in dreams that she had no control over – reminders of a dark side to that charisma and charm that could appear without warning and cause enough pain that the fear never quite went away. If her sisters ever had nightmares without understanding what might have sown the seeds, that subconscious awareness could well have created another layer of reasons why her youngest sister didn’t really want to be here.
Laura wouldn’t have chosen to come here with that new knowledge of their family history, either, but it had been logical for the eldest Gilchrist girl to take charge – she was an estate agent herself, after all, and it was quite likely that a property in a desirable part of the South of France would be snapped up as a second home to a buyer on their side of the English Channel. It had been their mother’s idea that Laura brought Ellie along on the flying visit to see the house.
‘ It might do her a bit of good, getting away for a day or two ,’ Jeannie Gilchrist had said. ‘ Mebbe it’ll take her mind off… you know… everything…’
Of course Laura knew. They all did. But, so far, taking Ellie away from their home town of Oban, Scotland, didn’t seem to be helping to distract her from what she’d had to deal with in the last few months, after the loss of her baby. Her youngest sister was still lost in a darkness that Laura couldn’t begin to comprehend, possibly because she’d been so young when she’d learned that it wasn’t going to help anyone, including yourself, to allow overwhelming emotions get the upper hand. You had to keep control.
Or you might drown…
She couldn’t blame Ellie for not paying attention to all the information Noah was imparting about how complicated it was to buy and sell property in France, but it was a little annoying when she didn’t answer Laura’s query.
‘Ellie?’ Her tone was sharper than she’d intended it to be. ‘Are you even listening?’
‘Sorry… what?’
‘Noah says he’s got time to look at all the things that need doing to the house tomorrow, so I’m going to give him the key. You don’t want to go back there, do you?’
‘ No …’ Ellie’s tone was emphatic.
Had she really hated La Maisonette that much?
Laura closed her eyes for a heartbeat as her breath caught in her chest. It really hadn’t helped that one of the bedrooms had had a baby’s cot in it. Thank goodness Noah had agreed to take care of whatever renovation and staging was needed for the presentation of this property to the market, but he was looking thoughtful as Laura handed over the huge iron key to the front door of the house.
‘Are you sure you don’t want to clean it up yourselves? It would save you a lot of money. Many hundreds of euros, I expect. Thousands, perhaps.’
Noah’s smile was hopeful. Maybe he wasn’t keen on the effort it would take to supervise an epic cleaning and restoration job. That didn’t surprise Laura any more than the idea of him having a hidden wine cabinet in his office. There was a lazy quality to his smile that suggested he didn’t let hard work interfere too much with his enjoyment of life.
The warmth of that smile seemed to be contagious. Laura could feel it seeping in to settle somewhere deep in her belly. Dousing it by tightening the well-toned muscles of her abdomen was an instinctive reaction. So was the firm tone of her voice.
‘No. I’m afraid that’s not an option.’
The disappointment in his face was simply part and parcel of that charm, wasn’t it?
‘ Pas de problème ,’ he said. ‘I will stay in touch.’ He picked a business card from a holder on his desk and reached to hand it to Laura. ‘Here’s the agency number. If I’m not available, then just leave a message with my assistant, Blandine.’
It was only polite to give him one of her own business cards in return. His fingers brushed hers as he accepted it and Laura caught a glimmer of something very unbusinesslike in his gaze again.
‘My private number is also on my card,’ he murmured. ‘Please call if I can be of any assistance.’
This felt far too personal. Almost an invitation? Laura shifted uncomfortably and broke eye contact.
‘When do you leave?’ Noah asked.
‘Tomorrow. I wasn’t sure how long things would take and the late flights were all full tonight.’
‘I’m sorry I don’t have the time to visit the property today but I have another appointment.’ Noah’s sigh was indeed regretful as he glanced at his watch. ‘In fact, I really need to go. I’m rather late…’
‘No problem.’ That was an understatement, really. Having this man vanish could be the solution to a problem, in fact, because Laura could escape from whatever was causing this unsettling awareness of everything about Monsieur Dufour. ‘We’re planning to have a wander around the old town here,’ she added. ‘And then we’ll go and find our hotel in Vence.’
She would be miles away from him by then.
Noah nodded as he got to his feet. He didn’t seem bothered by the prospect of her disappearing from his life forever in the next minute or two.
‘Leave your car here, if you wish. It will be easier to walk than find a closer parking place. You’ve got the Fondation Maeght just a bit further up the road if you’re fond of art. It’s a very famous gallery, and the Miró sculpture garden is just fabulous.’
One eyebrow, barely visible beneath the shaggy hairstyle, quirked just a fraction and a very different note made the tone of his voice richer. Warmer. The words were almost a caress.
‘I would love to be showing you around there myself.’
Oh no… Laura didn’t dare look at Ellie. Not just because she might be on the verge of giving her discomfiture away by blushing furiously. This was also awkward because Ellie had been an artist herself until the unthinkable had happened. Rubbing her nose into the fact that she’d lost more than her baby would be heartless.
‘Maybe not today,’ she said crisply, getting to her feet. She needed to escape for both their sakes now. ‘We’ll go and have a walk around the old town.’
* * *
There was no doubt about how magical the old walled city of St Paul de Vence was, but Laura was still puzzled, the next morning, about how that brief visit to the famous tourist attraction had achieved what she’d given up hope of happening anytime soon.
That Ellie would find something – anything – to hold onto that might help her find her way out of that dark space she was in.
Not that it mattered what had made Ellie change her mind about staying here to renovate La Maisonette herself. This was a huge step forward, and Laura was not only applauding it, she was quite prepared to cover any associated costs herself until the property was sold. It was an investment, after all – in both the real estate market and in her sister’s future.
As a bonus, it was a totally new challenge for them both, and the need to make a plan and sort what was needed to begin that – all in a race against the ticking clock of Laura’s flight to get back to Scotland – was energising. Exciting, even. Last night had been all about making lists. Laura couldn’t wait for Ellie to finish her shower this morning so they could get on with what needed to be done.
Did Noah Dufour ever feel like this about his life, or work?
Laura doubted it. As she’d said to Ellie when they were walking towards the historic section of St Paul de Vence, if that man was any more laid back, he’d be horizontal. That an image of that shaggy hair on a pillow, framing those intense hazel eyes, appeared in her head so readily was even more irritating than the fact that she was thinking about him at all. Surely she’d got that out of her system when she’d been staring at the ceiling for far too long, trying to fall asleep last night?
It was too early to ring anyone else in the UK, but Mam was always up at the crack of dawn. The running water in the bathroom would make the conversation completely private, but Laura still stepped out onto the balcony of their hotel room.
Her mother was worried about Ellie not coming back when she needed to be out of her apartment so soon.
‘I’ll organise it,’ Laura promised. ‘I know a cleaning firm that will make it spotless as soon as we get her stuff out of there.’
‘But what will we do with all her things?’
‘I don’t know, Mam… I guess we’ll just store it. You’d have room for the cot in the attic, wouldn’t you? We can fill it up with all the clothes and toys and suchlike.’
‘Have you talked about that with Eleanor? Is this really a good idea?’
‘No, of course we haven’t talked about it.’ Like everything else that could cause painful reminders, they’d tiptoed around the logistics of Ellie taking any first steps away from the shattered remains of her old life. Laura closed her eyes for a heartbeat. ‘But she said she’s happy for us to clear the place out, and I don’t think there’s any need to remind her of the details of what she’s leaving behind. This is the chance for a fresh start. A completely clean slate, in fact. Couldn’t be cleaner – all she’s got here so far is a change of knickers and her toothbrush.’
How impulsive would you have to be to do anything with no more than a change of knickers and a toothbrush? Laura couldn’t begin to imagine doing it herself. She’d been as worried as her mother that Ellie might not have the emotional resources to put her life back together, but she didn’t want her mother to undermine the courage Ellie was demonstrating in her decision to stay in France alone, and she heard her breath coming out in a heartfelt sigh.
‘No… I’m not sure it’s the best idea. But I think she thinks it is, and that’s what matters, isn’t it? Look, I’d better go, Mam. Ellie will be out of the shower any minute and we’ve got a ton of shopping to do before I head back to the airport. I can’t miss my flight. I’ve got that awards dinner to get to this evening and it’s the biggest night of the year in the real estate world.’
A text pinged into her phone as she ended the call.
Bonjour, Laura. Can I help you with anything this morning?
Laura’s heart actually skipped a beat. She’d given Noah a card that had her personal cell phone number on it but… she hadn’t expected him to use it.
No… that wasn’t true. She just hadn’t been prepared for the tiny thrill it gave her that he had , even though his message couldn’t have been any more professional, could it?
Tout est bien. Mais, merci beaucoup, Noah.
Laura had learned French at school. It had been one of her favourite subjects. She’d even spent a gap year in France. Not that she’d had any idea there was genuine French blood in the family back then, but it had been surprisingly pleasant to be able to brush some of the rust off her language skills at the airport and restaurants yesterday.
It didn’t excuse her imagining that she could hear an echo of Noah’s voice as she’d read that message from him, however. To be reading the words in her head with a French accent and hearing her name spoken with an inflection, the guttural growl on the letter r that made it sound so… good grief… sexy?
The sooner she left this sultry part of France behind, the better, Laura decided.
It was doing her head in.