Chapter 22
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
“H ey, Luc,” I said in French, waving as I approached. Queen V had tagged along, and Luc’s eyes widened at the sight of my four-legged companion.
I’d spoken to him over the phone a few times while I’d been away, and he’d sent me updates with text and pictures. I appreciated all his help, and I knew he was probably wondering about my extended absence. Plus, I needed to introduce him and the crew to Graham and tell them about the team from Hudson Security that was going to conduct an audit of the chateau’s security.
That had been Graham’s idea, and I hadn’t been opposed. In fact, it was a relief. Despite many well-posted “Private Property” signs, there’d been a few times in the past when someone had driven up to the chateau wanting a tour. Wanting to ask questions. I had enough people coming and going, and it was such a large property, that the idea of Hudson doing a security audit gave me some peace of mind that I hadn’t realized had been lacking.
“Lily, hey.” Luc kissed both my cheeks. “And who’s this?” He peered down at my furry companion.
“This—” I patted her back “—is Queen V.”
“Nice to meet you, Your Majesty.” He held out his knuckles, allowing Queen V to sniff him before she nudged him, wanting him to pet her.
“Sorry I was away for longer than expected.” Queen V explored the area, soon returning to my side.
“It’s not a problem. Work has proceeded as planned.”
“Yes. I can see.” I peered up at the roof, shading my eyes from the sun. The stonemasons were busy measuring for the new cornerstones. “It looks great. Thank you for keeping me updated. I appreciate you taking over while I was gone.”
“Absolutely.”
The more I’d thought about it, the more I’d realized that Graham was right. I needed a project manager, especially now that I was going to be away so much. I couldn’t think of someone better suited to the role than Luc. I only hoped he’d agree.
“Part of the reason I was gone so long was because I found a private investor for the chateau restoration.”
“You did?” His eyes widened. I nodded. “That’s great news, Lily.”
“It is.” I smiled, relief and excitement coursing through me. We could now save the chateau. “That said, I’m going to be traveling between here and the US, splitting my time every month.”
“Oh.” His face fell. “I’m sorry to hear that. I know how much you love working on the chateau, and the crew will miss you. I hope everything is okay.”
I appreciated his saying that. The crew had become my friends, my family.
“I will miss being here every day, but my husband’s business is in LA, and we agreed to split our time.”
“Husband?” Luc jerked his head back. “I wasn’t…”
“I’ll introduce you later,” I said, trying to gloss over any questions. “And since I can’t be here all the time, I’d like for you to be my project manager. I want you to oversee everything and be my eyes and ears. I’m asking a lot, but I’m also offering you a raise.”
“I’m invested in the success of the chateau, and I appreciate the trust you’ve placed in me. I’m honored.” He held a hand to his chest. “I won’t let you down.”
“Thank you, Luc.”
“Thank you .” He gave me a hug. But then he froze, dropping his arms and stepping back from me.
I followed his gaze to where Graham was standing, a menacing look on his face and Prince Albert at his side. “Ah.” I rushed over to Graham, eager to smooth out this misunderstanding. “Here he is now. Luc, this is my husband, Graham, and his… our other dog, Prince Albert. Graham, this is my site manager, Luc.”
They shook hands, then Graham immediately wrapped his arm around my shoulder. Possessive much?
I wanted to laugh, but I was too busy delighting in his touch, trying to ignore my body’s response to him and the way he’d claimed ownership of me. Why was that so hot?
“What are you doing out here?” I asked, finally taking in Graham’s attire. He was wearing work clothes, and they looked worn-in, well-loved. I had no idea he even owned anything like that. “I thought you had meetings?”
“I cleared my schedule. The chateau is your project, but I want to help,” he said in French. Judging from Luc’s expression, Graham had risen a few notches in his esteem.
I wasn’t sure Graham had ever cleared his schedule. Actually, that wasn’t true. He’d done it once—for Brooklyn. He was so wrapped around his niece’s finger. I loved it.
“Help how?” He’d already invested a shit-ton of money into it.
“With the garden. Stripping lead paint. Whatever. Put me to work.”
Oh, I want to put you to work, all right.
Unfortunately, he didn’t seem interested in that. It was like he had an off switch. Or maybe it hadn’t been as enjoyable for him as it had been for me. That seemed impossible, but he’d been nothing but proper and polite since, and I was going to freaking explode.
“How would you have time for that?” I asked.
“You make time for what’s important.” He peered down at me with something like tenderness and respect. Was he saying I was important?
“Besides…” Graham nuzzled my hair, lowering his voice. Though it wasn’t quite so low that Luc wouldn’t pick up on what he said. “It is our honeymoon after all.”
Honeymoon? I stilled. Ah. Right.
So much for thinking that he wanted to spend time with me for me. There was always a hidden agenda. Graham was always strategizing.
I mean, I applauded his dedication to making our fake marriage seem real. And I knew how difficult it must have been for him to step back and take time off, even if he was looking at the bigger picture. But this was the furthest thing from a honeymoon.
We might be staying at a romantic chateau, but our bed was falling apart. Forget sexy bikinis or lingerie, I was wearing work clothes that were caked in paint. And we were standing in the midst of a construction site.
Making time for what was important was probably code for keeping an eye on his investment.
“So, what’s on schedule for today?” Graham asked, confirming my suspicions.
“Luc?” I asked, my smile tight.
“As you can see, we’ve got the stonemasons on the roof. And I’ve got a team up on the first floor, working on removing the tiles so the cables can be installed. We need to remove all the original tiles and clean the edges so they can eventually be set back in place.”
“Is there something I can help with?” Graham asked.
“Yes, but…” Luc glanced between us. “Shouldn’t you be enjoying your honeymoon?”
I placed my hand on Graham’s arm. “As long as we’re together, we’ll enjoy ourselves.” I smiled up at him. “Isn’t that right, mon kinkajou ?”
Graham clenched his jaw at my term of endearment. I wanted to kiss him there just to see what he’d do. See how far I could push him.
We’d see how he liked being referred to as my kinkajou.
Luc merely shook his head. “Okay.” He turned and headed for the door to the chateau, and we followed.
“Do you have an interest in restoration?” Luc asked Graham as we walked, the dogs trailing behind. They seemed happy in their new environment, and that was a relief. I knew how much they meant to Graham, and I cared about Prince Albert’s and Queen V’s welfare.
“Very much, yes.”
I climbed the stairs to the first floor, greeting each of the crew members by name and introducing them to Graham. After Luc explained what needed to be done, Graham and I set to work with the team. I’d remove the tiles and take them to Graham. And he’d file the edges. It was exhausting and dirty work, and I was secretly curious how long he’d last.
After a few hours, he was still going strong. Making jokes with the crew in French, talking about construction techniques. Engaging with them. He was one of them.
“Having fun?” I teased, bringing him another bucket of tiles. His clothes and hair were covered in dust.
He’d always seemed like this buttoned-up billionaire who didn’t like to get his hands dirty. And now, he’d shown me a different side to him.
“Yes, actually. This task may be tedious, but I like working with my hands. And I enjoy the repetitive nature of it.”
“In that case, we have many tasks around here that you will enjoy.” I grinned, pleased at how seamlessly he’d slotted himself into my life here at the chateau. Maybe the novelty would wear off for him at some point, but for now, I was impressed. Relieved. Grateful.
I’d always known Graham was a hard worker, but I’d never seen him take on such a physical task. It was hot. He was hot—forearms flexing, dust flying. His face set in concentration. He looked up, and I ducked away, embarrassed that he’d caught me watching him.
On and on, it went. Removing tiles. Moving stacks of them. Dust and more dust.
My body was aching, but with the afternoon light quickly fading, the crew was wrapping up for the day. I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen Graham so relaxed, so at peace as he’d been today. We finished and shared a beer, celebrating the completion of the project. They thanked Graham for his help, and we followed them down the stairs. I was covered in dust, and it was going to be a nightmare to clean this wig, but it was worth it.
After we returned to our apartment, we ate a simple meal on the stone bridge overlooking the dry moat. Queen V and Prince Albert rested at our feet. As I glanced out over the grounds and chateau, I was filled with a sense of contentment and ease. I’d missed this place, and it was bittersweet to be back, only to know we’d be leaving again so soon.
“Thanks for your help today,” I said.
“It was fun.”
“It was.” I smiled. “I’m impressed.”
“Why?” He furrowed his brow. “Because I pitched in?”
I lifted a shoulder. “I mean, honestly, yeah. I didn’t realize you’d get into manual labor.”
“Who do you think manages the garden at my penthouse?”
“A team of gardeners.”
“When I have to be away, yes. But that garden is mine. My design. My plantings. My domain.”
“Wow. I had no idea.”
“My grandmother and I used to love to garden. She taught me so much about plants. About respecting our environment.”
I’d noticed that he was passionate about the gardens and often knowledgeable about plants and their care and uses. Even when I’d been his assistant, he’d always pointed out various plants and told me interesting facts about them. Now, I realized it was his way of keeping his grandmother’s memory alive.
“I’m guessing you have some ideas for the chateau’s gardens,” I said. When he nodded, I added, “I’d love to see them.”
“I’d be happy to help. Tomorrow.” He stretched his arms over his head with a groan, and I had to tear my eyes away from the sliver of abs he’d revealed with that movement. “I need a hot shower and a comfortable bed, but I’m not sure either of those is on offer,” Graham said, setting down his wineglass. “Unless you were messing with me about the cold water.”
“Just think of it like going to a health spa.” I sipped my wine as I smoothed my hand down Queen V’s back. “Isn’t everyone always touting the benefits of cold plunges?”
“Since you’re so keen to extol its virtues, maybe you should go first.”
“Nah. Go ahead. You can use the kettle to heat the water if you want. I won’t think less of you.” I winked.
He chuckled. “Mm-hmm.” He stood, inhaling slowly. “This is going to suck, isn’t it?”
“Yep.” I saluted him. “Get used to it.”
He turned, his dark chuckle threading its way through the night air. It was chilly, and it would only get colder. Come morning, there’d likely be a thick layer of fog blanketing the grounds.
I lingered there a while longer then returned inside to wash the dishes. I grabbed my pajamas, dreading how long it was going to take to clean my wig. I only had a few that were similar enough in color and cut that maybe Graham wouldn’t notice if they weren’t exactly the same. Maybe I could buy a few cheap ones online and hide them under a baseball cap?
Or you could just tell him.
I could. But our relationship felt so fragile and new. We were still learning to trust each other, and revealing my hair loss required a level of vulnerability I wasn’t quite prepared for. I was still recovering from the fact that Graham had hacked my blog. I wasn’t ready to trust him with my alopecia.
Graham emerged from the bathroom, rubbing his arms with his hands in an effort to warm up. He was dressed in a dark-green Henley that brought out the color of his eyes. I dragged my eyes down his body to the gray sweatpants that hung low on his waist. Apart from his clothes today, I hadn’t ever seen him in anything but a tux or a bespoke suit, even at the penthouse.
It was like he was an entirely different person. Relaxed. Casual. At ease.
Was it the clothes, or was it the environment? Hell, maybe it was the fact that he was taking a vacation for the first time, maybe ever. Though, considering the work he’d done today, it wasn’t exactly restful. Even so, I could tell it had been restorative for him.
His eyes were brighter. His muscles looser. His smile came more easily.
“Well, that was invigorating,” he said, his hair still wet.
“See.” I grinned. “I knew you’d come to appreciate it.” I gathered my clothes. “You done in there?”
“It’s all yours.”
“Great. Thanks.”
I stepped inside the bathroom, and god, it smelled good in there. I closed the door and inhaled deeply, remembering the feel of his skin pressed against mine. The way it felt to be close to him.
I shivered, despite the fact that it was relatively warm. Graham must have turned on the space heater while he was bathing. And now, the room was nice and cozy.
I removed my robe and undressed, letting the tub fill. While it did, I washed my wig in the sink and hung it up to dry before climbing into the tub. When the water first hit my skin, it was a shock of cold, like always. Despite my haste, goose bumps still covered my body. Finally done, my hands shook as I grabbed a towel from the drying rack and wrapped it around me.
There. The worst was over.
I dressed and reapplied my eyebrows and eyelashes. God, this was going to get really old really fast. Then I pulled out my hair dryer, quickly drying and styling my wig. I only hoped the new wigs I’d ordered wouldn’t be delayed like Graham’s mattress. At this rate, we’d be lucky if it arrived before we returned to LA.
I squeezed my eyes shut. Merde! The bed.
We hadn’t shared a bed since that night on Knox’s yacht—and for good reason. But now, there was no avoiding it.
I sighed and stepped out of the bathroom. Queen V immediately lifted her head, glanced at me, and then rested it on her paws again. Graham was sitting on one of the chairs, Prince Albert’s head in his lap as he read a book. My heart pinched at the sight of them, and a sense of rightness and belonging settled over me.
“I’m going to bed,” I said, ducking my head, suddenly overcome with shyness. “Join me when you’re ready.” Why did the last word come out higher, making it sound more like a question?
He appraised me over the top of his book. “Are you sure?”
No. “Yeah. I think we can handle sharing a bed until your new mattress arrives.”
He tilted his head, assessing me, before returning his attention to the book. “I’ll be there soon.”
“Sure. Take your time.” I’ll just be freaking out beneath the covers. “I’m sure we’re both so exhausted, we’ll just pass out.” Shut up, Lil! Just shut up!
I went to my room and checked my wig again in the mirror before climbing beneath the covers. I kept the small lamp on so Graham could find his way but turned and faced the wall, staring at the cracked plaster. My body was exhausted, but my mind was on overdrive. There was no way I was falling asleep now, even if I was tired.
A little while later, the mattress dipped, and the covers shifted as Graham slid into bed. He nudged me. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to?—”
I scooched closer to the edge. “No. It’s fine. It’s a small bed.”
“I’d be surprised if it’s even a full.” He shifted, and it was impossible not to touch. “Did you use my body soap?” He sniffed.
Oh god. I was mortified. And I’d never been more thankful that he couldn’t see my face.
“Did you just sniff me?” I teased, going on the defensive to hide how self-conscious I felt.
“ If I did, it was only to confirm my theory.” He sounded smug.
“Mm-hmm. Sure.” I punched down my pillow—trying and failing to get comfortable. How the hell was I supposed to sleep when he was lying next to me? All I could think about was his smell. The heat radiating off him.
I moved again. Nothing felt right. Either his elbow was jabbing me, or I was about to fall off the bed.
“Jesus. Will you stop moving? Just—” He huffed. “Here.”
I turned so I was facing him. Big mistake. He held out his arm, inviting me to lie on him. His hair was damp, and his expression was soft. How could I resist an invitation like that?
“I don’t want you getting any ideas,” I said, telling myself the same thing.
“Of course not.” He looked almost offended. “Cuddling isn’t in my vocabulary. This is strictly out of necessity. Otherwise, one or both of us will end up on the floor.”
I hesitated a moment, holding his gaze. And then I lay down on his chest. Oh, it was heaven. He was warm and steady, and I relaxed at the sound of his heartbeat.
“Better?” he asked.
“Yes. But this isn’t going to bother you? I mean…I know you’re sensitive to textures. And I don’t want to cause you irritation.”
“Oh, I’m irritated all right,” he muttered.
“I can?—”
“No.” He held me tighter to him. “Don’t move. I prefer deep pressure, compression. Most of my issues with texture relate to how clothes and materials feel against my skin. Or if someone’s touch is too light.”
I’d noticed that he seemed to recoil from light pressure, so I tried to avoid it. “Anything else?” I asked, wanting to understand. Wanting to make sure he was comfortable.
“Some foods can be an issue, but it also depends on my bandwidth. If I’m tired or overstimulated, things are more likely to bother me.”
“I can understand that. Sometimes I get overstimulated when there’s a lot of heavy machinery making noise on the property. But if there’s something I can do…” I trailed off, not sure what else to say. Not wanting to make him uncomfortable. “Please tell me.”
“Thanks,” he said. “And thanks for listening without judgment.”
I furrowed my brow. “Why would I judge you for something that’s out of your control?”
“You’d be surprised,” he said.
Understanding dawned on me. “Have other people judged you for your sensitivity to textures?”
He blew out a breath. “Yeah. So, I learned to hide it as much as I could. Otherwise, I risk being labeled as entitled or difficult.”
I pushed up on my elbow, meeting his eyes. “That’s shitty, and I’m sorry you’ve had to deal with that. But you don’t have to hide it with me.”
He was quiet a moment, then said, “Thank you,” in a gruff voice.
“So, the cold bath…”
He blew out a breath. “Fucking sucked.” He tucked his other arm beneath his head and stared up at the ceiling. “Jesus, Lil. How have you been living like this for all these months?”
I smoothed my hand up his chest and then back down again, mindful of the pressure I used. I observed his reactions, making sure that he still seemed relaxed. The fabric of his Henley was so soft, and I needed something to distract myself from his nearness.
“It helped that I moved here in the summer,” I said. “And at first, it felt like one big adventure.”
“And now?”
“It’s become a race against the clock to save the chateau and its domain.”
“Mm.” His voice rumbled through his chest and into me. He slid his hand up and down my back. The motion was so natural. It felt nice. Like this was the way it was always supposed to be. “You’ve taken on a lot, but you have a good team.”
“I do.” I smiled, thinking of Luc and all the others. “Over the past year, they’ve become more like family.”
“I can see that. Luc, in particular, is protective of you.”
“He’s just a friend,” I said, surprised by how eager I was to reassure Graham. “Actually, I think he and Jo had a little something going on.”
Graham chuckled, and I loved the sound of it, loved that I was the cause of it. “Interesting.”
“Do you think Queen V and Prince Albert are adjusting okay?” I asked.
“They love it here. As do I.”
“I’m glad,” I said, my body relaxing at his admission. At his touch.
“Thank you for making them feel at home—buying treats and beds and food. And thank you for letting me be a part of this.”
“Are you kidding? Thank you for making this possible.” I would never be able to repay his generosity.
“My pleasure.” He gave me a gentle squeeze.
Huddled beneath the blankets, ensconced in Graham’s arms, I felt safe and protected. Cared for. I could get used to this.