Chapter 33
The ride back to the chateau is beyond nerve racking. I grip the handles so hard, I’m sure I’ve left indents. With the Monet’s chest—wrapped in old newspaper Madeline found lying around to make it look as inconspicuous as possible—safely tucked in the basket at the front of my bike. I don’t dare take a breath until the chateau gates come into view. My brakes squeal as I come to a less-than-graceful stop next to the stone steps. I grab the delicate box and let the bike fall down as I slide my leg off and climb the stairs. “Luc,” I scream. The box burns in my hands as I head straight for the kitchen. The house is too quiet. It sends a shiver down my body. “Luc,” I call again, placing the box down on the kitchen island—as if—well, as if it had priceless artifacts inside. I immediately go to the fridge, grab the opened bottle of white wine, and pour myself a glass. It’s very “un-Carcen” to drink so much white wine, when they have a festival dedicated to red wine making, but so was pulling the cork off with my teeth and spitting it out somewhere. Doesn’t mean I’m going to stop doing it anytime soon. Red wine just had a weird, powdery taste to me. With my lips secure around the rim, I take a hearty sip, draining half the bottle, staring at the box as if it would explode at any minute.
“Did you call for me?” Luc walks into the room, and his steps falter when he sees the wine bottle in my hand.
I lift the bottle from my lips and pour the remainder into the glass on the bench.
“Aurora?”
“It’s date night somewhere.” I wipe the small dribble of wine from the corner of my mouth.
“Your conversation with Madeline was…interesting, I take it?” He purses his lips as he continues to assess me with critical eyes.
I shrug. “Unless you randomly decide to move out tomorrow…”
Luc pushes off the wall and grabs the wine bottle from my hand, the column of his throat working with each swallow as his arm winds around my waist. “Not happening, Impératrice.” He dots the skin behind my ear with a kiss. “But I don’t think that would make you drink like you’re trying to forget.”
I rip the glass from Luc’s hand, pour the last three drops out, and slice him a glare. “I’m not. I’m merely celebrating.”
His eyebrows reach his hairline. “Date night must have gone down really well then?”
“Oh yeah. It went really, really well.” I bob my head, taking the bottle back from Luc. “I found the jewels.” I incline my head to the box on the bench, and Luc’s gaze quickly follows mine as I take another sip. “I don’t think Timothé inherited them. And now I don’t know what the fuck we’re going to do with them.” Yes, I said we, because like it or not, Louis has ensured that we are doing this together.
The day of Luc’s auction has finally arrived, and while I’m a live wire about to explode over the summer festival, which follows right after the town fair, I am enjoying watching Luc grump and moan over the auction. While he’s in the shower, I quickly place the box of handmade chocolates I’d brought, along with the bunch of roses.
“What’s this?” Luc steps into the small kitchenette, his towel wrapped around his waist, while he rubs a hand through his hair.
“We can’t have you going empty handed now, can we?” I smirk from behind my second coffee, secretly loving making him squirm.
“It’s a live auction, they bid for what they get,” he deadpans, scrunching his nose at the offending items.
“Now where has your sense of gentlemanly chivalry gone?” I’m having way too much fun with his sour mood.
“Buried along with all the guys who were too nice.” Luc shakes his head.
“Ah, is that why the walking red-flag guys are always more desirable?”
“Naturally.” He lands a kiss on my lips. “You’re going to bid on me, right?” He takes my coffee from my hands.
“And let the good ladies of Carcen miss their chance to enjoy the company of Luc Badeaux for the night?” I scoff.
Luc leans forward and bites my lower lip, teasing it between his teeth. “I’m man enough to know there is only one woman for me.”
I run the tip of my finger down his chest. “It’s good to give our egos a boost every now and then.”
Luc barks out a short, sharp laugh. “Thanks, baby, but it’s not my ego that likes being inflated by you.”
I tsk and hand him the flowers and chocolate. I secretly love the way we rib each other, especially when the chateau isn’t involved. “I need to get stuff done. Henry and André will be arriving soon, and I have to finish the portrait I’m painting.”
“Are you going to show me this one?”
“Nope. Not until it’s finished.” I let the P pop and smack his ass. “Pip pip, you need to get into town before we have all the eligible women knocking on our door.”
I spend the whole morning helping Madeline set up stalls and booths for the fair, while Luc spends the day holed up in his office as far away from this as possible.
“I’m excited for the bachelor portion tonight.”
“Trust me,” Madeline hands me a few more of the candles we’d managed to make, “everyone in Carcen is excited for that tonight. I’ve never had so many people reserve paddles.” We both giggle. “Are you sure you’re okay with someone else bidding on Luc?”
“Yeah? Why?” I bite the inside of my tongue, only letting go when my mouth fills with the metallic taste.
“Oh, I don’t know. It just seems that you and Luc have become close?—”
“And?” I cut her off.
Madeline eyes me from the corner of her eye, slowly assessing me before shaking her head. “No reason.”
“We can’t put these out.” I gasp when she hands me the candles from the molds Luc had bought.
“Yes, we totally can.” She laughs. I quickly hide the feminine body wrapped in string—an ode to bondage in candle form—back in their box.
“These things should be illegal.” I wave at the lady who is watching us as I hide the box behind my body.
“Hey, what you and Luc do in the privacy of your bedroom is none of my business.” Madeline puts more candles out. My cheeks become live with fire.
“Nothing. We do nothing,” I rush to input, wishing the lady would move on so I can suffer my embarrassment in peace.
How much? she mouths. I cover my brow with my palm. Mortified doesn’t even begin to cover it. I’m already the new girl in town, now I’m the new girl who sells X-rated candles.
Madeline elbows me aside. “For you, three euros.” I glare at Madeline; we’re giving people special discounts now!? The lady happily buys one of the spicy candles that probably should be sitting in a sex store and not on a table with the sign Scents of Carcen in script writing. Madeline turns to me with a giant smile.
“You know, we might actually have a market for this.” Madeline laughs after the third straight spicy candle sale.
“I’m going to kill Luc,” I reply from where I’ve hidden behind the table. These stupid candle molds were his idea.
Our candle stall proved fruitful, nearly selling out within a few hours. And I’m now freshly showered and changed and making my way back into town. As I walk down the main street of Carcen, I wave at different vendors and people I’d gotten to know over the course of the day. The sounds of children giggling, machines ringing from prizes won, and the crackle of chestnuts roasting on open fire pits weren’t even enough to shake me from my daydreamlike state. A little kid walks past me with balloons bigger than her whole body tied to their wrists, bobbing them up and down, clearly ecstatic with her new toy. A twinge of envy pulls at my stomach. I’d never really thought about having children but looking at their little faces, stained with food coloring and sugar, smiling from ear to ear, I realize I want that one day…and I think I want it with Luc.
At the intersection where the two main streets meet, Madeline set the runway for the bachelor auction. A small stage took up one-half of the road, and rows of chairs the other. At the site of Ade manning a small desk, I stop.
“Aurora.” Ade waves.
“Ade, how are you?” I kiss her on each cheek.
“Are you going to participate in the auction?” she asks.
“You bet.” I smile. “It’s all for charity, right?” And not at all because Luc is about to walk on stage and flash his grin that I’m sure is on the list of top five ways to make a person fall under your spell—essence of Luc.
“Here you go.” Ade winks. “I hear there are some really hot eligible bachelors this year.” I pay the five-euro fee and collect my paddle with the number 205 on it.
“Hopefully we get a good turnout.” I scan the crowd already filling up the chairs.
“Oh, I think we will,” she says, her voice filled with delight. I spot an empty seat in the third row and fire off a message to Luc.
Rory
we’re ready to be wooed.
Luc
I think I *woo* you more than enough
Rory
I’m only doing my civic duty—as you say
A giant grin splits my lips. According to the time on my phone, the auction is supposed to start soon. My heart thumps in my chest as I wait for Luc to take the stage—more excited than I should be to see him again. André and Henry weren’t coming to the auction, and Ade was busy looking after the table. That just left me sitting alone. The large stage lights turn on, and Madeline walks out, her microphone in hand.
Showtime.
“Hello, everyone, I hope you’re all having a fun night,” Madeline greets the crowd, who come alive, cheering and clapping. “Tonight, we have a really special goal. As you know, we need to raise money to fix our town hall,” Madeline says just as Ade wheels a giant thermometer onto the stage. The small bulb has been filled already, but the rest of the thermometer is still empty. “So far, we have one thousand euros saved for the work that needs to be done. Tonight, we are hoping that with the generous donations from all of you we can reach our ten thousand euro goal.” The crowd claps and whistles. “Let’s start with our first item for the auction. Everyone please welcome Pierre La Bontine,” Madeline announces.
The lights dim, and hard thumping music comes over the speaker as Luc’s friend walks out on the stage, his chest heavily oiled, his suit pants hanging off his hips, a delicate chain hanging from his back pocket to the belt loop just under his navel. Women cheer and whistle. Pierre walks to the end of the stage, or more like struts, and kicks his right ankle over his left and does a twirl. Suddenly, this innocent live auction feels like it’s turning into something that’s not suitable for the young kids still running around. “Let’s start the bidding for a night out with the wonderful Pierre at fifty euros.”
“Over here.” The first paddle went up.
“One hundred.” Another paddle went up.
The rest continue.
“Two hundred.”
“Two fifty.”
“Three hundred.”
“A thousand euros,” a woman with hot pink lipstick, sultry eyes, and bone structure a model would kill for in a skintight black dress stands up, her paddle high in the air, braking the bidding frenzy. I rub my hand over my dad’s tattoo and press my lips together, crossing my legs. Maybe it was a mistake to enter Luc in this little auction. My ribs squeeze tight at the thought of the frenzy that is about to go down when he takes the stage—if Pierre’s little walk is anything to go by.
“Wow.” Madeline gasps. “Thank you to bidder six-oh-three.” The woman stays standing, her eyes not leaving Pierre’s. “Do we have any other bidders?” Madeline asks, and the crowd goes silent. “And we have a winner. Bidder Six-oh-three. Congratulations,” Madeline announces, and the crowd claps as the woman finally sits down. My eyebrows hit my hairline. Yep, living in a small town is way better than reality TV. I better be on my game if I’m going to win Luc, or else all that shit talk from this morning will be true.
“Next item for auction, we have another bachelor volunteering a night. Please welcome Jean-Luc Badeaux III.” The crowd cheers again. Luc walks out onto the stage—well, more like swaggers. His black silk shirt is undone halfway, nowhere near as revealing as Pierre’s, but it is enough to reveal the brawn of his chest that makes my breath hitch. I know every inch of that chest, and the fact that other women are getting a glimpse of it sends a red haze across my vision. His matching black slacks and suede shoes complete his ensemble. I would never admit it, but black is most definitely his color, it really brings out the gold in his eyes. “Okay, friends, let’s start the bidding,” Madeline says when Luc makes it to the end of the short runway. The crowd is silent, and the heat of multiple eyes on me makes me nervous. “Shall we start the bidding at fifty euros?”
“Sixty-five euros,” someone calls.
“Seventy.”
“Eighty-five.”
My eye twitches with each person who lifts their paddle. My body starts to shake with a fight-or-flight instinct. “Oh fuck,” I say before lifting my own paddle. What good is having an inheritance if you can’t spend a little every now and then? It’s to fix the new town hall, right? And I’m nothing if not a team player. Maybe it’s something in the air, maybe it’s Louis Monet’s letter playing on my mind, or maybe I just want to play with Luc’s head, but somehow I found myself doing the unthinkable. “One thousand euros,” I announce, lifting my paddle high in the air. Madeline turns to look at me, not expecting such a high bid. I just shrug.
Are you sure? she mouths. I nod.
“One thousand and five euros,” someone else’s bid interrupts us. What the fuck? I scan the crowd, looking for the woman who dares to enter a bidding war with me.
“One thousand and twenty euros,” I counterbid.
When I see Isobel lift her paddle in the air, the tension in the crowd becomes so much thicker. “One thousand and thirty euros,” she smiles announcing her new bid. In that moment I decide I will be shopping elsewhere for my antique purchases.
“Two thousand euros.” I waste no time, staring Isobel down with raised brows, just waiting for her to challenge me. The lady from the antiques store, which I will no longer be visiting on account of her becoming my new mortal enemy, continues to lift her paddle.
“Two thousand and fifty euros.”
“Three thousand euros,” I say, and the crowd gasps, the air becoming tight.
“Three thousand and fifty euros,” Isobel bids again. I meet Luc’s eyes. From here, I can see the sweat beads gathering on his forehead—he’s nervous I’m going to lose to Isobel. Not on my watch.
“Five thousand euros,” I bid and give Isobel an I can go all night look. Heck, at this point, I’m ready to write Madeline a check to fix the town hall myself.
“Five thousand euros, do we have another bid?” Madeline asks, looking at Isobel, who shakes her head and sinks down in her chair.
Yeah, that’s right, know when you have been beaten. I’ve no clue where this uber-competitive streak, especially for Luc, had come from, but it really gave me a thrill.
“And congratulations, paddle two-oh-five,” Madeline announces, and the crowd claps; Luc stays rooted on stage, his eyes boring into mine, making my heart skip a beat and my chest feel like it was on fire as I hold his gaze. My tongue glues itself to the top of my mouth as I struggle to swallow. Madeline clears her throat. “Now it’s time for the next item.” But Luc doesn’t move, not even a muscle twitches. Madeline clears her throat again, hoping he will take the hint. Letting the microphone drop to her side, she whisper-yells, “Luc, get off the stage,” loud enough for most of the audience to hear.
Luc shakes his head and looks at Madeline. “Huh? Oh right,” he says and walks off the stage.
Madeline picks up the microphone and continues, “And the next bachelor we have is…”
I’d long since stopped listening. I stand and walk to Ade to pay my donation.
“Wow, that was some bidding war.” Ade laughs as the crowd starts clapping for the next auction item.
“Yeah, all for the new church,” I mutter, and not at all because the thought of Isobel having a date with Luc makes me want to rip my eyelashes out.
“Town hall,” Ade replies.
I shake the cobwebs out of my head. “Oh right, yeah, town hall.”
“This is for you.” Ade hands me a certificate. It said winning bid for a night with Jean-Luc Badeaux III.
“Thanks.” I smile as I take the certificate, tuck it into the small clutch bag hanging off my wrist, and turn to leave the live auction behind. Tomorrow, I will call Madeline to find out who won the voucher to stay at the chateau that we’d donated. My chest tightens with each breath as my mind clouds. I shouldn’t be falling for Luc the way I am, and it scares me. I came to France for the chateau, not to fall for the guy trying to take it from me. I just need to be alone with my paintings right now. When I have a paintbrush in my hand, my mind is calmest, and I can properly process my next move.