Chapter 14
ROSE
Imust have fallen asleep in the car because when Julius turns off the main road, the slight bumps wake me as we travel in darkness into oblivion.
“Where are we?” I sound sleepy, and Julius says with interest.
“This is the g?te Eddie was talking about. There’s a light on ahead, so I’ll make for that.”
“Is it safe?”
Our predicament comes racing back, and Julius exhales sharply. “It should be, but we must remain on our guard.”
As we pull into a courtyard, I notice a couple heading out of an entrance, and Julius whispers, “Remember, we are Nathan and Phoebe Sullivan on vacation from Orlando. No French and force an American accent if you can.”
“Sure, honey.” I giggle as he chuckles softly, and as we cut the engine and throw open the door, I take a deep breath. Let the game begin.
“Bonjour.”
The woman steps forward into the light, and Julius says quickly, “Parlez-vous anglais?”
“Mais oui.”
She smiles as she turns toward me.
“Welcome to Le Vieux Moulin. Let me show you to your room.”
Julius grabs my hand as my mouth drops open because what the hell. Room—as in singular! My heart is beating rapidly as the realization hits me hard. Of course. They believe we are married, and I’ll have to–
The blood drains from my body as he tugs me after the couple who lead us to a small outbuilding not far from the main house.
As we head into the small barn-style cottage, they flick on the lights and my heart swells. It’s perfect.
I gaze around with delight as I note the stone walls that appear ancient and the flagstones on the floor. There is a log burner in the corner and a small couch set nearby. Beautiful flowers in a vase offer a splash of color, and the huge ornate mirror on the wall reflects the light around the room.
The woman smiles. “There is a small kitchen through there and a bathroom. Over there, the door leads to the bedroom.”
The man adds in a deep voice. “There are more logs out the back should you need them, and the kitchen is stocked with basic requirements.”
“Thank you.” Julius plays his part well and slings his arm around my shoulder, allowing it to rest comfortably, giving the impression of intimacy. My mouth dries as I face the couple, who are staring at us with interest, and the woman catches my eye and smiles her appreciation.
Even she is not immune to Julius. He’s definitely a presence, and so gorgeous even Sister Agatha could be swayed.
The mere idea of the prim and proper Sister Agatha being anywhere near Julius Ravera is an amusing one, and I’m guessing the crucifix she wears around her neck would catch fire on eye contact.
I’m in no doubt Julius is more devil than saint, and yet he has a wicked way about him that attracts rather than repels.
The couple make their excuses and leave, and as soon as the door closes behind them, Julius turns the rusty key and heaves a huge sigh of relief.
“Alone at last.”
His words cause me to physically glow inside because it hasn’t escaped my attention that I am insanely attracted to this man.
His eyes gleam in the artificial light, and I wonder what he is thinking.
I don’t even know what I am thinking because obviously it’s only the two of us now and I’m without words. It’s as if we are meeting for the first time, and awkwardness rears inside me.
It’s as if he is a storm that I am chasing to feel alive. I should seek shelter, but the force of nature is too appealing.
Words are meaningless against my thoughts; denying my attraction would only be lying to myself. I want to experience Julius Ravera because I have a feeling that it would be the ultimate test.
“Are you hungry?”
His voice is husky, and I swallow hard at the evident interest in his smile.
I’m not na?ve not to realize when a man desires a woman.
It’s obvious from the lust flashing in his eyes.
He is looking at me the same way I gazed after the gardener.
Wanting something unobtainable but daring to dream, anyway.
He breaks eye contact and nods toward the bedroom.
“You can take the bed; I’ll be fine on the couch.”
I’m touched by his thoughtfulness, and yet part of me dies a little. Why am I imagining being curled against his body, craving the pressure of his skin against mine?
A burst of heat rips through my body, and it could be down to the intimacy of our surroundings or the fact we have been close for several hours now. Is it because he saved me from a fate worse than death, or could it be because he was chivalrous in offering me the bedroom?
I am too scared to voice my real wishes and take the coward’s way out instead.
“Thank you. Um, you are very kind.”
“I know.” He chuckles as he turns away, and my heart drags on the floor after him.
What is happening to me?
His voice interrupts my confusion.
“I’ll fix us some coffee while you check out the bathroom. Hopefully, there’s a tub or a shower, and you can relax while I light the fire.”
It sounds idyllic and probably exactly what I need, so I jump into gear and say in a higher voice than usual, “Great. I’ll, um, leave you to it.”
I almost sprint to the bathroom, clutching my bag, and as I head inside and close the door, I lean back on it to still my racing heart.
This is bad. So very bad because I’m about to face the biggest test of all. My attraction to him.