The Vintner and the Vixen (Vintage Love Book 1) (3 page)

“Let’s continue the tour. Or would you rather I moved on to the seduction?” He raised his eyebrows and she laughed. God, he was gorgeous when he wasn’t being such a prick. Considering her past was littered with jerks, she usually had well-honed defenses. With a single laugh he’d destroyed them. Jacques was dangerous.

They looked into a few other rooms, all of them inelegantly decorated. They wandered down another hallway, this one lined with portraits of de Launays long dead. Maya stopped to examine a couple of the paintings, interested in the different artistic techniques used over the years. Jacques stood quietly beside her, answering her questions politely but otherwise not disturbing her concentration. Yet she was aware of his body close to hers. When he took a step to the side she missed the warmth and followed him automatically.

At last they arrived at the portrait of Charles. His blue eyes lacked the mischief she’d seen in them today, and although he had a ring on his left hand, there was no joy in his face. The last painting was of a man who bore more than a passing resemblance to Jacques.

“My father,” he said quietly. “He was killed in a plane crash when I was eight.”

“I’m sorry. Is your mother still alive?”

“Yes, but she lives in Paris and never comes here. She and my father were separated even before his death, so my grandfather raised Daniel and me.” Again his tone was unemotional, as though everyone was abandoned by their mother in early childhood so it was no big deal. But he’d returned to being stiff and unapproachable.

“Why is there no portrait of you?”

“The tradition is for the man to have his picture painted after he has produced an heir. It is highly likely that my father’s portrait will be the last of the de Launays to hang in this hallway.”

Her argument shriveled on her tongue at the fierce look in his eyes. Either he was still so in love with his wife that he couldn’t ever contemplate remarrying, or the marriage had been such a disaster that he wouldn’t go there again.

Why should she care which it was?

Chapter 3

Jacques gripped his wine glass tighter and shoved his free hand into his pocket to keep from touching Maya’s bare back.
Merde
, keep from touching any part of her. The woman was seriously compelling, and ever since her quip on seduction he hadn’t been able to think of anything else. Although with Maya it was more likely to be a conflagration than a seduction.

How could a woman look so sexy wearing gray? People wanting to blend into the background wore gray. Not super-hot twenty-somethings with an ass that could make an atheist rethink the existence of a benevolent creator. Gray, however, was the perfect backdrop for her flowing molten lava-colored hair. And her legs? Did they never end? At his height, he was used to looking down to his female companions. Maya was right up there with him. And rather than stoop or try to minimize her size as he’d seen other tall women do, she walked with an attitude that said, “I’m here, deal with it.”

But all her beautiful packaging was eclipsed by her eyes. He had to admit, his grandfather was right. A man didn’t forget eyes like that, not while he still breathed anyway. They were the color of cognac. Not the first glass that you sipped as you wondered when your day had gone from all right to complete shit. Maya’s eyes were the color of the third glass, the one you stared into and for a brief moment saw all your hopes and dreams reflected back at you—seconds before you slung it down your throat and went to bed. Alone.

A distant chime made Maya turn in the direction of the sound.

“What’s that?” Her voice was huskier than usual. A faint blush stained her cheeks. Was she turned on by him? Or the house? She was already redecorating in her mind. Was she planning on upgrading from the cottage to the chateau? He could certainly imagine her decorating his bedroom. And it wouldn’t involve a can of paint.

“Dinner bell. Are you hungry?”

“Starving.” Her gaze roved over him again. This woman wasn’t shy, and her boldness, rather than put him off, ignited an answering passion in him. Maya Tessier was potent.

“Let’s get you fed then.”

When they arrived at the dining room, Daniel and Grand-Papa were already seated next to each other. Which left the two chairs opposite for him and Maya. Since his father’s death, when it was just the family to dine, no one sat at the head of the table. Grand-Papa clearly considered Maya family and hadn’t adjusted the seating. He helped her into the chair across from his grandfather, forcing his eyes from the extra two inches of thigh exposed when she sat. Jacques swallowed. This was going to be a hell of a long dinner.

“So, Maya, tell us about yourself,” Grand-Papa said as the first course was being served.

“Not much to tell. I was born in British Columbia on the west coast of Canada. After I finished high school I went to live with my great-grandmother in Montreal. There I went to art school and did various jobs to help support myself. Before she died, Gran-Gran made me promise to come to France and focus on my art for at least a year, so she left the cottage and land to me in her will. And here I am.” From the way she fidgeted with her cutlery, there was way more to Maya’s story than she was telling.

“You intend to stay only for the year, then?” Jacques seized the idea. He could resist her for a year. Couldn’t he? That was fifty-two weekends, less if he stayed in Paris for a few of those. That was survivable. Then Maya took a deep breath, which drew his eyes to her chest. He may not make it through the next two days.

“We’ll see. I quit my job and sold the apartment where Gran-Gran and I lived. I have nothing and no one to go back to.”

“What about your family?” Charles asked.

“I haven’t lived with my parents for almost ten years, so we’ve grown apart. My twin brother is married and has his own life…” Her voice trailed off and she took a sip of her wine.

“Their loss is our gain,” Daniel said.

Jacques shot him a warning glare, but it only made his brother laugh.

“When is your next race?” Maya asked Daniel.

“Not until the middle of August. We’re on summer break for another two weeks.”

The rest of the meal passed in a discussion of Daniel’s racing career, the upcoming grape harvest, and various other banalities. By the time the serving staff placed the cheese and fruit on the table for the last course, Maya lounged back in her chair, sipping her second glass of wine, looking like she came to dinner every night. At some point she’d kicked off her shoes, and her bare foot had come perilously close to rubbing against his calf on several occasions. Only ten minutes after the meal, he couldn’t remember a single thing he’d eaten.

“I am sorry, but my age is showing,” Grand-Papa said. “I am tired and must go to bed. Thank you for joining us for dinner, Maya. I hope this is the first of many meals you will share with us.
Bon nuit
.”

“I’ll see you to your room, Grand-Papa,” Daniel said. “I’ve got some emails to answer and meetings to set up, so I’ll say good night as well. It was a pleasure to meet you, Maya. As Grand-Papa said, I hope this is just the first meal you share with us. It’s way more enjoyable to stare at you across the table than my old brother.”

Maya laughed and the sound trickled down Jacques’s spine. She stood and strode around the table, barefoot, and kissed his grandfather on the cheek. “Good night, Charles. Sleep well. Will you come to the cottage, or shall I meet you here for our date tomorrow?”

Grand-Papa’s eyes had a definite mischievous twinkle as he glanced at Jacques. “Would you come here? It’s such a long walk to the cottage.”

Since when? It was 100 meters and Grand-Papa walked the gardens daily, plus he had a golf cart for getting around when his knees bothered him. What game was the old man playing now?

“Do I get a kiss?” Daniel asked.

“I think you’ve had your quota for the day,” Maya replied. She reached out and wiped off the lipstick stain from under Daniel’s jaw with her thumb.

Daniel and his grandfather left, and Jacques stared at Maya from across the table. He had to keep her away from his grandfather. Grand-Papa had always had a weakness for beautiful women, as evidenced by the situation they were in now. Jacques wouldn’t allow Maya to take further advantage of his grandfather’s trusting nature. Or his own apparent penchant for sexy redheads either. In answer to Daniel’s earlier observation, no, he wasn’t dead. But that didn’t mean he was going to be ruled by his body.

“Do you wish something else? A coffee perhaps?” Jacques offered to take his mind off kissing her. He definitely hadn’t had his quota today.

“No, I’m good. In fact, I’d better get to bed, too.”

Want company?
He managed to stop himself from blurting it out.
Maudit
, the woman eroded his control.

“I’ll just get my shoes,” she said as she dropped to her knees.

“Allow me.” He pulled back his chair and kneeled to find her footwear. They both reached for the same shoe from opposite sides of the table.

Maya’s laugh reverberated off the underside of the table and did wicked things to his body. “We meet again, Monsieur de Launay,” she said in a seductive tone.

He pushed both shoes towards her and scooted out from under the table before his control completely snapped.

“I’ll walk you to the cottage.” His voice was harsh as he wrestled with the desire to push her back under the table, slide the dress from her body, and make love to her until the chandelier shook.

She sat on his grandfather’s chair as she slipped her shoes back on. “There’s no need. I’m only in the backyard. And your impressive gates prevent strangers from getting in.” Was she referring to the gates at the drive or his personal ones?

“I am a gentleman. And a gentleman always sees a lady home after dinner.”

“I hate to break it to you, but I’m no lady. And calling yourself a gentleman is like a challenge to me.”

“A challenge?” He walked around the table and helped her to her feet. They stood so close he could feel her breath as she released a sigh.

“Makes me want to push your buttons until I find the one that turns you from gentleman to wild man. Can’t help it, I’m a rebel at heart.”

Chérie, you’ve already found that button. Now I have to stop you from pushing it.

***

The cool night air blew across Maya’s overheated skin and she shivered. Jacques immediately shrugged out of his jacket and put it around her shoulders.

“Thank you,” she murmured. His cologne lingered on the jacket, and the spicy scent made her head swim.

He’d snagged a flashlight from the house before they’d left, and he kept the path in front of her feet illuminated. While he lit the way, she searched her overwhelmed brain for a topic of conversation. And came up blank. Evidently Jacques de Launay had shut her up. A first for her.

When they got closer to the cottage she noticed the light on in her bedroom. The sun had still been up when she’d left so she hadn’t bothered turning on any lights, not even the outside light so she could find the keyhole. A shiver racked her body that even Jacques’s jacket couldn’t prevent.

Had they found her? She tripped and his arm came around her waist to steady her.

“Are you okay?” His deep voice helped hold back the panic threatening to seize her.

“There’s a light on in my room. I’m pretty sure I didn’t leave it on,” she said, her gaze riveted on her window. Not even her brother knew where she was. And Jacques had those huge gates; surely they’d keep most people out. But Big Tony wasn’t most people.

Jacques’s arm tightened around her. “The lights may be on a timer. But I’ll check to make sure it’s safe.” He took the key from her hand and unlocked the door.

She wanted to be independent and stand on her own. But she also wanted to live another day. “If you don’t mind.”

“It would be my pleasure,” he said, his voice low and sexy.

That pulled a smile from her. “We really need to discuss your idea of pleasure,” she replied. His eyes widened before a grin curved his lips.

“I’m going into your bedroom.”

“Alone.”

“For now.” Without waiting for her reply, he strode through to the kitchen and then up the narrow stairs to the rooms above. When he hadn’t returned after a minute she followed. He was probably riffling through her things, looking for some angle to get her off his property. If he knew of the danger she was in…

She found him in her room, staring at her bed. Was there some kind of message there? A warning of what was to come? God, if it were a horse’s head, she’d throw up. She grabbed Jacques’s arm as she peered around his large form. There on her bed, flung across the spread, lay her black nightie. Right where she’d left it when she’d quickly unpacked this afternoon. Relief swept through her.

Her eyes darted to Jacques’s face; he blinked and then swallowed. Shaken by lingerie, good to know.

“You seem to be safe. Lock the door behind me when I leave.”

“Thank you.” Their gazes locked, and the desire in his blue eyes set off an answering hunger within her. She wasn’t going to win this game without keeping him off balance. “Don’t you want your goodnight kiss?”
Way to play with fire, Maya
.

“No.” He fled her bedroom.

She went downstairs to lock the door. As the bolt clicked into the frame she heard him say, “
Bon nuit
,” through the door.

Although the chances of her having a good night when her brain was full of Jacques were pretty slim.

Do not try to escape one man by getting lost in the arms of another
.