Kitabı oku: «The Chateau»

Contents

Cover

Blurb

Book List

Title Page

Copyright

Author Bio

Acknowledgements

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Three

Chapter Thirty-Four

Chapter Thirty-Five

Chapter Thirty-Six

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Endpages

About the Publisher

Chapter 1

‘Max, you’re not obliged to come to the wedding, in fact, I’d rather you didn’t. You’re just full of bloody excuses all the time so fuck you.’ Georgina Remy slammed the bedroom door hard.

‘Gina. Gina,’ Max roared through the closed door. ‘I just feel it’s important to meet these guys on Friday while they’re in the country.’

Gina turned on her heels and flung back the door. Max was before her, in her face. His metallic eyes pleading. She squinted hard at them.

‘I don’t believe you, Max. Why does your charity always have to come first? These people will survive. You’re hardly providing life-saving operations. Haven’t you heard charity begins at home?’ She slammed the door again. ‘This is the same feeble excuse you keep harking back to. Our relationship should come before anything: my business; your charity. You don’t get it, do you?’

‘I do and it won’t happen again, not after this and, as I said, we’ll sit down and plan,’ he shouted through the door.

‘Just…I don’t want to hear it.’ She stepped back. ‘This so-called relationship is going nowhere, Max. Go home.’ She rushed for her suitcase, pulling it out from under her bed and mindlessly throwing her neatly ironed clothes in. She could hear him continuing the fight from the hall.

‘Why are you overreacting? I’ll fly over Saturday morning. I’ll be there for the wedding, I promise. Gina…Gina. I’ve committed to it. I won’t let it happen again. You know I’m looking forward to it.’

A fierce silence sliced through the air. As she forced shoes and toiletries and make-up around her clothes Gina fought hard not to let the bitterness erupt. Clasping her head in her hands, she collapsed on the bed, throwing her head into the pillow. With some distance she could hopefully calm herself. He would probably leave now anyway, he usually did. This was now a regular occurrence. A routine. It was a mockery of a relationship. This wasn’t the life she’d planned, not the Max she’d once known. He’d always been attentive, sharing and keen to have a family and family life. He’d always wanted to be with her and do things with her. She closed her eyes before she heard him again.

‘I’ll be there Saturday morning, darling. I love you,’ he said speaking in muffled tones behind her door. A few seconds later, she heard a heavy sigh filter through the wood before he yelled, ‘See you Saturday.’

After a few seconds, as anticipated, she heard his footsteps echo down the hall. Then the latch clicked telling her he’d left her flat.

‘Good riddance’ she wanted to shout. But how could she ever fall out of love with Max? It would break her heart, and more importantly, his girls’. Was she so wrong in wanting a family when it was something they’d planned?

‘Bastard!’ she whispered.

***

After a frustrating morning with a two-hour delay before her flight, Gina dashed along the lakeside path wheeling her case to the hotel, stopping briefly to clip up her long dark hair away from her increasingly hot, sticky neck. It was just gone three o’clock. She’d text her brother to keep him informed but he wasn’t, it seemed, very forgiving. He’d texted back telling her to hurry.

Despite the stress of Max and her lateness, she at least had taken some pleasure in her journey. As the train had edged round Lake Léman, the view had calmed her. It was her favourite scene in the world and she had chosen a sun-drenched seat on the right-hand side of the carriage from which to savour every aspect of the imposing mountains encircling the vast glistening water. It always made her feel comforted and welcome.

As she reached the hotel entrance, she hauled her suitcase up the small set of stairs and wheeled it across the thick cream carpet, then with a harsh whack, parked it against a marble Corinthian column, looking around for a familiar face. Her mother appeared at once, ushering with her hand. Gina immediately ran to her, past the reception and entered a vast columned vestibule.

‘Gina, thank goodness, we were getting worried. Come,’ she urged, reaching for her daughter and planting kisses on both cheeks.

‘Hello, Mum.’ Gina tossed her oversized handbag over her right shoulder and tightly hugged the petite, blonde woman. ‘I couldn’t get here any quicker. Is James OK or is he in a panic?’

‘Oh, you know your brother has to say his piece, like you. Says you should have organised an earlier flight. Let’s not make an issue of it now, Gina. He’ll be fine. I’m sure you’d be panicking too if it were your wedding.’

‘It’s just a rehearsal for God’s sake.’

‘Like I said, imagine how you would feel,’ her mother said, lowering her voice.

Heads turned as the two of them entered the opulent ballroom. Gina stared breathless at its grandeur, which was at one with the belle-époque exterior.

‘OK. Now we can begin,’ she heard her brother tell the wedding co-ordinator. The small congregation then turned from their patient disquiet to readiness.

After a tense half hour Gina was better versed in what she would be undertaking the following day. She breathed out a sigh. Feeling totally dishevelled compared to the other well-groomed and manicured females present, she followed them out to the richly furnished salon and on to a bright sunny terrace furnished with wrought-iron dining furniture, a festooned canopy and, she swiftly noted, a bar. Just what she needed!

She took her father’s arm as she caught up with him. He turned and greeted her with his familiar warmth, followed by his sister, Aunt Bernie, who fussed with more kisses. As the crowd dispersed into small groups, she and her parents claimed a table overlooking the lake with Aunt Bernie. It was laden with Aunt Bernie’s speciality table decorations: clusters of red carnations. She had thought they needed a trial run and James had obviously given in to her persistence. Although Gina wasn’t sure his soon-to-be bride, Gabriella, would appreciate them.

Once the waiter had taken her drinks order, Gina excused herself and made a quick visit to the ladies room. After touching up her make-up and brushing her hair, she checked the mirror satisfied she had now come some way to looking presentable. Scooping her bag back up, she breezed back to the terrace, swiping her smartphone to take it off silent as she hurried back to the reception. She glanced up, aware of a figure approaching. Just noting legs in front of her, she veered left. He staggered one way, she stepped aside, both moving the same way and whoosh, crashing into each other.

‘Sorry,’ she said, flicking her eyes up. They locked hard with the stranger’s as rose thorns seemed to strike through her veins.

‘Pardon, Madame,’ he slurred, touching her arm as his chocolate-brown eyes ensnared her with their intensity.

Wow, her breath escaped, whipped away like never before. She steadied herself, catching his arm. As she felt his skin beneath her fingertips – hot and solid with muscle – she lost her grip on her phone, letting it fall to the thick carpet.

He stared like he was afraid to look away. She did the same, scared to lose the moment.

‘I’ll get that,’ he said finally as he bent down and collected the phone from the lush pile and waved it in his hand. ‘I’ll put my number in here. You might need it.’

‘Err,’ she croaked, clearing her throat and reaching for her phone. ‘I don’t think so.’

‘No?’ He raised his eyebrows and threw her a questioning look. ‘You find me drop-dead gorgeous and yet you decline any possibility of contacting me?’

Gina couldn’t believe her ears. What an arrogant bastard!

‘I find the Mediterranean Sea gorgeous but if it’s too shallow to swim in there’s really no point,’ she said, retrieving the phone from his hand and whipping around.

As she rushed off, back to her table, a chill struck her chest and rippled down her arms. She peered curiously around her while rubbing her arms as the cold surged into her bones. She gazed overhead, searching for the air-conditioning unit but couldn’t see one. Frowning she returned to the terrace asking herself if she was imagining it.

As she arrived onto the terrace she noticed that the handsome but arrogant stranger had followed her and was now making his way to a seat at the next table. She squeezed past her father, shifting a chair around to one side so she could see not just her beloved Lake Léman but also this fascinating new prey. As egotistical as the stranger was, he was deadly attractive. That was more than just chemistry. Oh, you minx, she told herself with a shrill of inner mischief. Max might not be favourite on your menu right now but that’s no reason to harbour illicit thoughts.

George Remy, looking his usual freckled and suntanned self but a rather tired version, was sat next to her.

‘So, how is my little property princess getting on?’ he asked clasping one of his daughter’s shoulders and giving it a squeeze.

Gina smiled. ‘It’s getting busy again. Holiday season is finishing and people are on the move again.’ Gina pursed her lips. She knew business could be better.

‘What, both sales and lettings?’ he said, lighting a cigarette.

‘Lettings are busier but things are definitely picking up. There’s more confidence in the economy.’

‘About time,’ he said, puffing heavily on his cigarette. ‘Good for you.’

‘About time you gave that up too.’ She scowled.

‘Don’t you start. You’re beginning to sound like your mother. Anyway, where’s Max?’

‘Well, good of you to notice. He’s back in London. We had a big argument last night. And, don’t ask, I don’t want to talk about it.’

Gina closed her eyes. She had shut Max out of her thoughts all day. She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction. Hopefully he’d finally got the message. If he doesn’t want to…No, she wasn’t going there.

‘So have you met everyone?’ she asked, clasping her hands together and crossing her legs. She knew how anti-social her dad could be.

‘Yes, James introduced Gabriella’s sister, her boyfriend and two of her cousins, I think. We’ve met her parents, of course.’

‘Yes. Oh, look James is coming over,’ Gina said, standing up as her brother shuffled around the table to greet her. ‘So sorry about the hold up earlier,’ she told him, kissing him on both cheeks.

‘Yes, you did cut it a bit fine. Where’s Max?’ James sat down and placed his beer in front of him. Gina, not realising it would be so difficult to explain, tightened her lips.

‘Still in London. Should be here in the morning.’

‘Well, we won’t be holding our wedding up for him,’ James scoffed.

‘They’ve had a row and she doesn’t want to talk about it,’ George said, stubbing out his cigarette.

‘Oh really, sweetheart,’ her mother squealed, sauntering around the table and grabbing a chair, followed by the waiter with the drinks. ‘I suspect this means he still doesn’t want to start a family then.’

Gina slammed her sunglasses on and turned towards the lake. Her eyes prickled and then stung with the tears she was so desperately trying to fight. This was supposed to be a happy occasion and all they could do was remind her of her relationship failings. She swallowed and discreetly tried to wipe her nose with a tissue. Why couldn’t they just leave her be? Her mother was right, of course, but why she had to blurt it out she didn’t know. Aunt Bernie would have a field day and, speak of the devil, she was on her way back now from Gabriella’s family now, probably with all their gossip.

‘As I said, I don’t want to talk about it. Anyway, James, are you nervous?’ she asked, changing the subject and scanning the menu the waiter now placed in her hand.

‘I’m fine, but Gabriella’s been sick with nerves this morning.’ James turned to peer at his bride-to-be. ‘I don’t think she’s been eating well lately either, she’s lost some weight.’

‘Most new brides do, James,’ his mother said, patting him gently on the arm. ‘Don’t worry, she’ll be fine.’

Gina peered up from her menu. She gasped. Bang opposite her, the vain man was staring at her with a wide grin on his face. Was he trying to humiliate her? She looked away, shifting in her chair. Her heart raced and blood rushed to her cheeks. Glad to still have her sunglasses on, she sipped at her vodka and slim-line tonic. The hovering waiter asked for her order. She ordered a salad just as two more waiters arrived at the table with glasses and a bucket. When she looked up, the vain stranger was still staring.

‘Adrienne, darling,’ Aunt Bernie bustled herself in between Gina and her mother. ‘Hope you don’t mind, I’ve ordered a couple of bottles of champagne: two for this table and two for Gabriella’s parents. Just as a celebratory drink for you all. I probably won’t get a chance tomorrow.’

‘That’s very kind of you, Bernie,’ Adrienne said, kissing her sister-in-law who was as redheaded as Adrienne was blonde. ‘Did you hear, George? Your sister has…’

‘Yes, yes. Thank you, Bernie. Very generous,’ he said crossing his legs then swallowing the rest of his beer.

‘Are you OK, Dad?’ Gina asked, trying hard to appear casual. ‘You don’t seem yourself.’

‘I’m fine,’ he grunted then forced a smile. ‘Tired, but fine.’

‘I’m going to say hello to Gabriella and her family,’ Gina said, shuffling out from the table and eager to get away from the uncomfortable stare.

‘Take this with you,’ said Aunt Bernie, handing her a glass of champagne.

As the chatter flowed among the party, so did the champagne. Gina and Gabriella chatted for a while about Gabriella’s wedding preparations and listing all the beauty treatments she’d endured ready for her big day. Gina had to concede, her soon to be sister-in-law appeared highly polished and nothing, it seemed, had been overlooked. Her skin glowed – her tan sprayed on in just the right portions – her hair and nails were immaculately manicured. Gina didn’t think there any more Gabriella could do but, Gabriella insisted, she, her bridesmaids and her mother would have the full expertise of a professional make-up artist for the big day tomorrow.

As food arrived, Gina returned to her table. She hadn’t realised how hungry she was and tucked into her salad with gusto. Aunt Bernie topped up glasses around the table except her father’s: he preferred beer. The conversation around the terrace was increasing in volume and Gina couldn’t help noticing the gorgeous vain man again, sitting opposite, giving her the occasional glance. Now with her glasses back on her head, she tried not to be intrigued. She still had no idea who he was although he appeared to be with the bride-to-be’s family. He was certainly a looker though.

She admired the way his dark brown hair cascaded loosely, hanging low over those walnut-brown eyes. They dominated his face of otherwise well-proportioned features. As she gazed again, his eyes bounced back. Her whole body tingled. He smiled, revealing even white teeth, beautiful and perfect, just like his seductively sensual lips.

‘Cheer up,’ he shouted aloud for everyone to hear. ‘I can still let you have my number.’

Gina’s cheeks roared in flames and she ducked her head back down to her salad, distractedly slicing the remainder of chicken breast on her plate. Not knowing where to place her eyes, she focused them on her glass.

‘Don’t ignore me now,’ he bellowed. ‘I was enjoying your attention.’

He winked as she raised her eyes.

Gina sat horrified. How bloody embarrassing. Scratching her temple she gazed around her but was grateful that little attention was actually being paid to him. Her mother and aunt had clocked him however.

‘You seem to have caught that young man’s eye, Gina,’ her aunt sang out what was blindingly obvious.

‘Yes, he’s so subtly just let me know,’ she replied, turning the volume up of her own voice. ‘Shame. I was so enjoying myself.’

‘I’ll show you how to enjoy yourself,’ he said standing and staggering towards her.

‘No, thank you,’ she told him, throwing out an arresting palm at the same time as he was pulled back to his seat by a young woman next to him.

‘Shush, sit down, Ollie. You’ve had too much to drink,’ the woman said, coaxing him back to his seat. ‘Sorry,’ she mouthed at Gina.

‘I’m not sorry.’ Ollie tried to stand again. ‘She’s a beautiful girl and I think she fancies me, ’cus…’

‘Nobody’s going to fancy you in this state, Ollie,’ the woman continued. ‘You’ve been drinking all day. You need to go and sleep it off.’