A TEMPORARY MARRIAGE: PART ONE (AVALON BAY ROMANCE SERIES Book 1) (11 page)

Monet’s House

The house was covered by creepers on the outside and had pink walls and green shutters. It was about forty yards long and only just over five yards deep. They entered the house by the main entrance and were shown into the blue living room which had gray cement tiles.

“I love these colors,” Cassie said looking around the room at the stunning blues on the walls and on the furniture. “And I love the way they harmonize with the Japanese woodblocks.”

“That’s where he got a lot of the inspiration for his paintings,” Richard said.

“You’ve studied Monet?”

“No, but I can read,” Richard said, pointing to a small sign.

Cassie laughed. “Very clever, you almost got me.”

Then they entered the dining room and Cassie gasped in delight. Monet had painted the room in two tones of yellow which enhanced the blues of the dishes on display. Like the living room, the walls were full of Japanese engravings. From the dining room they entered the kitchen which was covered in blue tiles from Rouen which harmonized with the yellow in the dining room when the door to the kitchen was open. The coolness of the blue also contrasted with the warm glow of the extensive collection of copper pots and pans on shelves and hanging from hooks.

“This is giving me such great ideas. I wish I could take photos and send them to Melissa,” Cassie said as she tried to memorize all the details. She took a small notebook from her bag and made some notes.

“And the brochure has some pictures, it’ll help a bit,” Richard added. “Maybe they have postcards to buy, too.”

Cassie looked at Richard and stopped what she was doing. This was so amazing and while the means of getting there was strange, the trip itself was incredible.

“What?” he asked.

She smiled. “I was just thinking what an incredible guy you are. If anything, I’m making a great friend in you, I believe.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Richard said. He walked over to her and hugged her tight, his arms remaining wrapped around her for just a few seconds.

When Richard let go, they each smiled at each other and Cassie melted at the way their eyes connected for that brief moment, saying so much more than their words. What was happening…

After leaving Giverny the tour bus stopped at a converted picturesque mill on the lush green banks of the Epte River for lunch.

While everyone around them talked about the sights they’d seen, Cassie was excited to talk passionately about Primrose House and her ideas, while receiving feedback that was equally enthusiastic from Richard.

“I think we can really do something incredible, something Avalon Bay will embrace, with this hotel, Richard. I feel like I’m pregnant with my first child.”

His face darkened just a bit and she said, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…”

“No, don’t worry,” he said, his hand extending out to hers. “I was just thinking that you’d make a beautiful pregnant lady.”

Cassie smiled. “And as big as a hotel.” Then the two laughed and got back to their animated discussion about ideas for the renovation of Primrose House.

All too soon lunch was over and they were on their way to the glory and splendor of the Palace of Versailles.

***

Back in Paris, they showered and changed for dinner, and then met in the living room of their suite. What a long day it had been and both had said how tired they were. But that didn’t stop them from being hungry, either.

“I’m not sure if it’s all the walking or something in the air, but I find that I’m always starving here,” Cassie said as she walked out into the living room.

Richard was there and she saw him drink her up. He must have liked what he saw. She changed into a delicate white blouse and a peasant skirt with strappy sandals and tied her long hair back with a scarf.

“You remind me of a beautiful carefree gypsy,” he said.

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” she said and smiled as she took in his darker blue silk shirt which softly lay against the muscled hardness of his shoulders and chest and tight blue jeans that covered his long legs.

“Well, Mrs., let’s go dine, and then get some sleep,” Richard said.

The two walked out of the hotel and down the street to the small café from the night before. They had decided to go back because they loved the ambiance and the food.

Before long perfectly cooked steaks were set in front of them; pink and juicy and smothered with cognac sauce and heavy cream. She watched Richard as he enjoyed every savory bite, trying to eat a bit slower to be polite, but clearly starving. She knew the look because that’s how she felt, too.

“I have never seen so much gilding as this afternoon,” Richard said. “It was beautiful, but it was kind of overwhelming, you know what I mean?”

“Definitely indulgent,” Cassie agreed. “But Versailles as a whole, King Louis VIII included, was incredible. It’s interesting how distinct these different areas are, isn’t it? You don’t really think about it until you’re here. At least I didn’t.”

“It’s hard to put it into perspective from a book or a picture, even if you try,” Richard said.

“Does that happen with architecture a lot?” Cassie said.

“What do you mean?”

“Your clients, you draw these amazing plans, but they just don’t see it until it’s being built. Then it comes to life.”

“I never thought of that before, but it’s a very astute observation,” Richard said. He paused and Cassie watched him have some kind of internal debate. Finally, he said, “This is really nice.”

Cassie wasn’t sure if he meant the meal or the company, but from his sweet, soft expression, she knew it was a compliment that she was the focus of. “Yeah, it is.”

After dinner they enjoyed a glass of Cointreau, and then they made their way back to the hotel.

“What a beautiful night,” she said as they walked along.

“This is the type of night that I love, it’s why I love living in California so much. We have more of them than not,” Richard said.

“I look forward to some of them over the next year,” Cassie said.

“You’ll have to be back in Avalon Bay a lot, even after that, right? After all, you’ll be a hotel magnate.”

Cassie laughed at Richard’s comment. “I like the sounds of that.” Then she took another step, not noticing a dip in the cobblestone sidewalk and stumbled forward just a bit, but was immediately rescued by a strong hand wrapping around her arm and holding her up.

Without thinking twice about it or asking, Richard grabbed her hand and held it. Cassie loved how warm it felt against her skin and its strength. There was nothing that would have made her pull away at that moment. It felt right. Maybe the wine and after dinner drink made it that way, or perhaps it was something else. She really didn’t care.

Up in their suite, he stood very still and put his hands on her shoulders.

“I’ve really enjoyed my time in Paris with you Cassie,” he said softly.

She glanced up into his chocolate brown eyes that were almost black in their intensity. “Me too,” she said almost in a whisper.

He leaned forward; she trembled. He was going to kiss her. She knew he was and knew she’d be powerless because she wanted him to. She held her breath. A romantic song from a distant café drifted in through the terrace door and hovered in the air. Anticipation coursed through her body, as well as eagerness to feel his beautiful full, soft looking lips against hers.

But instead of kissing her on the lips, he took her hand and raised it to his lips and gently kissed it. It was a tease that left her wanting more.

“Goodnight Cassie,” he said as he abruptly let her hand go and it dropped down like a leaf falling from a tree, and then he went into his room.

She stood there, frozen and confused, feeling such longing but also relief that it hadn’t gone farther, because if it did, there may be no turning back.

Cassie awoke to a soft knocking on her door. She blinked and then stared at it, mumbling, “Come in.”

Richard opened the door and was standing there. Even from the distance between them, she could smell French soap upon him and his shaving cream. He was already dressed in a plain green t-shirt and some cargo shorts, showing off every delicious muscle he had.

“Cassie, sorry to wake you, but we have a train to catch in two hours,” he said.

She sat up. “It’s okay.”

Then she noticed his eyes gazing at her and travelling down a bit. She looked down and noticed that her night gown had slipped over one shoulder and one perfect breast was half visible. She pulled the gown up over her shoulder.  “Sorry, I should have set my alarm,” she said.

Then she got up and Richard’s face was still intense, his eyes almost glued to her. She looked down and realized how transparent her gown was. He could see everything. She ran a hand through her tangled hair and folded her arms in front of her.

***

Richard sat in the living room while Cassie showered, thinking about what he’d just seen. It had made him instantly distracted and he wanted her so badly. Her greatest appeal was her lack of realization about how desirable she was. It was natural, not processed. Her authenticity, brains, and beauty may be the death of him. It could end up being a very long year, especially if he kept having thoughts like he had.

***

They checked out of the hotel with their luggage, took a taxi to the Paris Gare Montparnasse train station, and boarded the train to Tours, a distance of 160 miles. During the one and a quarter hour train ride, Richard spent it on his iPod while Cassie read a guidebook about the Loire Valley, taking brief breaks to talk or ask a question. On arrival at Tours train station they located the car rental office and picked up their car; a red Mercedes SL 350.

“Nice,” Cassie said, looking at the beautiful car. “It’s going to be a tight squeeze to get all our luggage into this car, Richard? Not to mention everything we’ve purchased.”

“Well we could always put the luggage on the passenger seat and you curl up in a ball in the trunk,” he said, laughing afterward.

“Or you,” Cassie said. “I’m capable of driving, too.”

After a bit of maneuvering they managed to get the luggage loaded into the trunk. Richard then slid in behind the wheel, “Thank God it’s an automatic.”

“And that’s it’s got a navigation system,” Cassie said after she got in and looked at the dashboard and caressed the luxurious leather seat beneath her.

“Well, just in case it doesn’t work correctly, can you read maps?”

“Don’t tell me that because I’m blonde you suppose I can’t read maps!” she said with a teasing smile on her lips.

“No, I didn’t mean that,” he laughed back. “But some women are hopeless at it.”

“Well, some men probably are, too. But I am neither,” she shot back.

They managed to find their way out of the city and get on the right road to Amboise, which was only about sixteen miles away, and sat on the left bank of the River Loire. When they caught their first glimpse of the Loire River with its traditional flat-bottomed boats tied up along its banks, Cassie remarked, “I can’t believe how beautiful it is.”

“Amboise is said to be a particularly attractive town,” Richard said as they continued following the Loire upstream. He turned to look at Cassie whose long tresses were blowing in the breeze and whose alabaster skin was beginning to sport a light tan from the July sun.

Amboise

A few minutes later, they were driving into the medieval town. They were booked into a hotel that had formerly been 18th century aristocratic residences and had now been converted into a small luxurious hotel overlooking the splendid valley of the River Loire. Once they had checked in they were shown up to two elegantly furnished, ensuite bedrooms, with jewel-toned brocades with antique four poster beds, antique furnishings, and stupendous views over the river and the hotels sculptured swimming pool and formal gardens.

“Swim or explore?” Richard asked.

“Explore. Let’s check out the manor house, Clos-Lucé. It was the last home of Leonardo da Vinci,” Cassie said.

“You’re like a walking brochure, but I would like to relax a bit before dinner tonight. Is that okay?”

“If you’d rather relax now, I can wait,” Cassie offered. “Or, we can each do what we want. No one else would know.” Although she offered the last part up, Cassie really didn’t mean it. She didn’t want to see any of this with Richard not by her side. Having someone to share the memories with was important.

“No, I’ll relax later,” he said.

Yes
, Cassie thought.

They spent the next couple of hours wandering around the narrow streets of the picturesque town taking photos and looking into the shops and then visiting Leonardo da Vinci’s last home which had forty models of the various machines designed by him and a copy of his famous Mona Lisa painting. On the way back to the hotel they stopped for a light lunch.

Cassie noticed that Richard had been much quieter than normal and seemed to have lost much of his enthusiasm for exploring. Was she boring him?

“I think I’d like to go back and take a nap,” Richard said. “I’m wiped.”

“Okay,” Cassie said. Maybe he was just tired, but she sensed that it was something more. He wasn’t even yawning.

With Richard resting in his room, Cassie paced back and forth across the Savonnerie carpet in hers. Every time she passed her window she caught a glimpse of the sparkling pool below. It looked so inviting. Time for a swim.

She pulled her one piece swimsuit from her suitcase along with a hip length white shirt to wear over it. Then she silently opened and closed her hotel door behind her and walked down the wide hotel staircase and made her way to the deserted swimming pool area.

As she stood at the edge of the pool, she glanced up at the chateau, her eyes focused on Richard’s terrace window where the cream colored voile curtains blew in the gentle wind. She wondered if the breeze was massaging his body while he slept. She tried to erase the image of his naked body lying on top of his bed from her mind.

She made a graceful swan dive into the pool and lost herself in repetitive laps as she swam back and forth. As her body began to tire she slowed down and glanced up; Richard was standing at the side of the pool watching her intently. In his swim suit he looked ultra fit and more handsome than she could have imagined; with his wide shoulders, narrow hips and long athletic muscled legs. He’d surprised her and she breathed in, accidentally swallowing about a glass of water. She coughed and sputtered for a second, trying to regain her composure.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were going for a swim?” he asked.

“I thought you were resting,” she said as she squeezed the water out of her hair.

“Tried, didn’t happen, so I came looking for you,” he said before doing a racing dive into the pool. After doing a couple of laps he turned to her. “Race you.”

“Okay, prepare to lose,” she said, always eager for a challenge.

They did a three lap race and Richard won.

“That’s because I’ve already been swimming for so long,” Cassie justified with a wink. “I was just tired, let you win.”

“You are a horrible liar,” Richard said, splashing water at her.

The water splash turned into a full out play battle in the pool, where both of them were laughing and trying to get each other to relax so they could get them unexpectedly. It was so much fun, almost like they were those childhood friends they’d been so long ago.

A middle-aged couple had come down to the pool and from the look on their faces, Cassie saw that they were not amused by their fun. She looked at Richard, who saw it, too, and they both started laughing even harder.

“Maybe we’d better go lay in the chaise lounges for a bit,” he suggested.

“Good idea, I wouldn’t want to splash anyone, darling,” she said in an aristocratic tone.

***

Cassie closed her eyes and allowed the late afternoon sun to warm her body. Richard lying by her side couldn’t resist allowing his eyes to sweep over her long languid body; her beautifully formed breasts, slender waist, narrow hips and long shapely legs. Richard started getting erect and he was horrified and embarrassed about it.

“If you’ll excuse me for a bit, I need to go check for an important email,” he said. Then he was gone, not even giving Cassie a chance to answer back.

Being around Cassie was beginning to be so hard and they were only on day four of their honeymoon. How was he going to keep his distance for another ten days? It was the two of them in a foreign, romantic country. And every fiber in his body wanted her, badly. And the night before, he sensed that she was expecting a kiss on the lips, not on the hand. He would have loved to kiss her, but his logical mind was trying to keep his romantic heart in check.

Maybe I should invent an excuse to cut the holiday short,
he thought. Back in Avalon Bay, he’d be busy and be able to avoid being in such close proximity to Cassie. But that thought didn’t appease him because he was having so much fun in France and enjoying the trip immensely. It was the first real vacation he’d ever taken. Cassie was a big part of that joy. She was enthusiastic, energetic, and so much fun, but more than that, she was an intriguing puzzle of innocence and pure sensuality.

Sick of torturing himself, Richard decided that he needed a nice cold shower. He ran his hands through his thick hair as he shampooed it under the cold jet stream and vowed to keep a tighter range on his primal feelings.

***

The following morning, just before sunrise Richard knocked on Cassie’s door. Climbing out of the shower and wrapping a towel around her wet hair turban style, and a large super-soft bath towel around her body she went to open it. Richard stood there in khaki shorts and a white cotton short sleeved shirt.

“Just checking that you’re awake…and you are,” he said. She saw him looking at her in the eyes, trying not to avert his look elsewhere. “We leave for the balloon ride in forty minutes,” he said.

She stood there, feeling the need to challenge him with her body in some way. She wasn’t sure why, but it felt important that she know exactly what he was thinking. Finally, his eyes broke from hers and his gaze traveled down from the turban on her head to the towel wrapped precariously around her, and then down to the length of her bare legs.

She felt his intensity as surely as if he’d touched her everywhere, and it made her cheeks turn pink and the tension in her body rise. “I’ll just dress and meet you downstairs in ten,” she said quickly, closing the door with trembling fingers.

They arrived at the hot-air balloon departure point and were greeted by a crew of white uniformed men who ushered them to the balloon. They watched the balloon being prepared for lift off and then climbed into the basket with their pilot. As the balloon gently rose above the earth, the pilot handed them both a glass of champagne as the landscape unfolded beneath them; verdant fields, vineyards, forests, rivers, romantic little villages, architectural masterpieces, and emerald green forests that were home to wild boar and deer and hunting grounds to the past kings of France. It was a novel sensation, rubbing shoulders with clouds, floating over the countryside guided by the winds that determined their flight direction. The pilot was only able to control the altitude of the balloon. At a low level, the pilot pointed out the various chateaux like Blois, Chambard, Cheverney and Chinon, and told anecdotes about the royal inhabitants.