Summer Of My Secret Angel (11 page)

I lowered the pen and scanned the darkened
room for a moment. Bile rose in my throat. I thought of this
marvelous place and how I couldn’t dare to stay.

It was like granting a hungry and freezing
child a glimpse of a stuffed turkey through a window at Christmas.
Only, I wasn’t outside peeking through the glass. I sat inside the
warm house, tasted a delicious meal. With two fingers, I massaged
the spot between my eyes. The longer I stayed here, the harder it
would be to leave.

The hoot of an owl carried through the open
French door. A soft wind rustled the trees. The wood of the balcony
creaked under someone’s feet.

Julian.

My chest constricted, and I held my breath
for an uncomfortable half-minute, straining to hear whether he’d
come toward my room. But he wouldn’t be so bold. With no light in
my room, he must think I’d fallen asleep.

Apart from the wind and animals outside, the
night remained silent. Tossing my notepad on the mattress, I rolled
out of bed and sneaked to the door leading to the balcony.
Carefully, I leaned only my head outside to peek around the
corner.

Palms braced on the wood railing on his side
of the balcony, Julian stared down at the vineyards. The faint
shine of light from his room tinted his silhouette in soft gold. He
hung his head, his shoulder blades flexing underneath his shirt. An
invisible weight seemed to press down on his shoulders.

One had to be blind not to notice it was my
mother’s health that concerned him. The image of Quinn ruffling my
hair when I was down or in trouble haunted me for a second. Maybe
Julian needed a little comfort himself, and I could be the one
offering it. God forbid, no ruffling, of course.

Teeth clenched, I fought against this urge.
The story about him only being Charlene’s caretaker struck me as a
masquerade. Even if everyone else fell for it, I wouldn’t.

What wouldn’t I have given to find out about
their uncommon relationship… Anything—but my pride. No way would I
ask him about the matter. Leaning against the doorframe, I studied
him silently.

“Can’t you sleep?” His words, little more
than a whisper, drifted to me.

My heart thudded in my ribcage, shocked he’d
caught me staring at him. “I’m not tired.” The answer came quick,
yet my voice sounded like a stranger’s in the dark.

“Come out, it’s beautiful up here at
night.”

“Mm-mm.” I shook my head.

For a brief moment, his eyes narrowed to
slits. “You’re scared.” He said it with such conviction I wondered
if he felt personally insulted by my refusal. Pushing away from the
railing, he shoved his hands into his pockets and ambled toward me.
“Hopefully, it’s the height of the balcony that makes you nervous
and not me.”

“Why would you make me nervous?” The words
shook slightly in my throat. I shifted against the doorframe as he
drew nearer.

He halted before my room and leaned with his
backside against the railing. “Why indeed?”

For an immeasurable moment, we stared into
each other’s eyes. If I hadn’t known better I would have thought he
actually
wanted
me to be nervous around him. Silly idea. I
shoved it aside, clearing my throat. “Who are the two people Marie
wants me to meet?”

“Valentine and Henri? They’re nice people.”
Hands planted on the railing at either side of his hips, he hoisted
himself up onto the edge.

“No, don’t!” My warning echoed across the
field as I let go of the doorframe and reached out in a helpless
attempt to stop him from falling backwards over the balustrade. Yet
fear kept my feet rooted to the floor inside.

His arms still braced against the wood,
Julian cocked his head while one of his brows arched up. Not
bothered by my concern, he eased onto the insecure railing, his
gray sneakers dangling two feet above the floorboards.

His gaze mocked me like it suggested I come
out of my room and make him get off the railing.

Oh, for the sake of my frazzled nerves,
just get down!
I tamped down the anger over his ignorance and
kept to the safety of my room.

He cast me an amused glance from under his
lashes then continued as though nothing had happened. “Henri and
Valentine Dupres live down the road. They’re an elderly couple
working for your aunt and uncle in the yards. You will meet them
tomorrow morning.”

At his words, pictures of tonight’s dinner
rose before my eyes. Maybe now was the time to thank him for his
concern, even though I cringed at the thought of letting him know
how I really felt. I coughed slightly, tilting my head so the
curtain muffled my voice. “It was actually kind of you to delay
their introduction until tomorrow.”

“Sorry, what did you say?” He smirked, and
for an instant I considered tossing a pillow at him. But that might
have caused him to fall backward off the balcony. I didn’t want to
take the responsibility in case he broke his neck.

“Thank you,” I said more clearly, though
through gritted teeth.

His teasing grin disappeared. “You are very
welcome, Jona.” His soft purr gave me chills. “Earlier, you seemed
surprised I would care about you. Why was that?”

His serious words touched the spot of my
mind responsible for lying or telling the truth.

“I thought you didn’t like me.” My croak
clearly betrayed my unease. I dropped my gaze to the gaps between
the boards of the balcony floor.

“You do your best to pretend not to like me
either.” His soft, smooth tone reminded me of sand running through
an hourglass. “And yet you’re worried I might fall off the balcony
and get hurt.”

“Hey, buddy, who says I’m pretending?”
Looking up at his face, I found something in his stare that I
couldn’t quite place. It reminded me of Rottweiler Rusty when he’d
ogled a bone.

My mouth was dry, a cloud of pleasant warmth
expanded in my chest. A couple of seconds later, Julian slid down
from the railing. A hundred tense muscles in my body relaxed, and a
breath I didn’t know I was holding whizzed from my lungs.

Damn him for making his point clear.

“Sleep tight, Jona,” he said through a
lopsided smile as he headed back to his side of the balcony.

“Goodnight,” I whispered, hardly audible to
myself.

Julian chuckled then disappeared through the
floating curtains.

I woke snuggled in a sea of softness. The
faint light of a breaking morning fell through the window above my
bed. I yawned, my body completely relaxed. Something I’d never
experienced before.

Still muzzy from sleep, I blinked, taking in
the features of the room. Only then did I remember where I was.
Alarm shot through me. Stupefying. How could I’ve slept so
peacefully with my mother resting only one story below?

The floor felt cold against my bare feet as
I got out of bed and shuffled into the bathroom. Warm water washed
away the last bit of sleep from my eyes. In the mirror, I caught
the face of an indecisive child. Chocolate or candy? Dream castle
or freedom? If I wanted to leave, then now would be the perfect
moment.

Yesterday, Marie had made me a fantastic
dinner, and I had slept through the night on a bed of clouds. I’d
tasted heaven, now I needed to go before I grew used to the comfort
and wouldn’t be able to part from it.

“The vineyard,” the girl in the mirror
whispered, her tone a suggestive tease. I couldn’t leave before
taking a walk through the vineyard.
Just once
, I promised
myself. Tonight I’d certainly be off on my way back to England.

Five o’clock in the morning seemed a bit
early to wander downstairs and wait for Marie to get up and show me
the vineyards. I settled on the bed, tucked my feet under the
blanket, and leaned on the windowsill. Chin resting in the crook of
my folded arm, I gazed out on the vinery and mused about the
breaking day.

The first and only day of my slave work.

What would my uncle expect me to do in the
yards? I could hardly take a watering can and wet the entire field.
It would take five hundred years or more.

Back straight, I narrowed my eyes to scan
the little grapes on the bushes. Mid-August. They should still be
too small for harvest. So, what else awaited me today?

With a little shock of anticipation, I
couldn’t wait to get out to the vine and do whatever tasks my aunt
and uncle ordered me to do.

A shiver rattled my teeth as the morning
wind blew around me. The blanket pulled up to my neck, I wrapped
myself in it like a hotdog. The covers still bore the warmth from
last night. I curled against the headboard and closed my eyes only
for a second longer than a blink. But soon sleep sneaked up on me,
and I dozed off.

Next time I woke, strong sunrays warmed my
face and the chirping of a bunch of birds carried to me. A feather
brushed the skin from my brow down to the tip of my nose. The purr
of a happy cat pushed up my throat as the stroking continued. I
blinked against the warm sun. Julian’s blue eyes were level with
mine.

My mind still drifting from chasing a
sparrow in the vineyard, I wondered how Julian had found his way
into my dreams. We gazed at each other. No one spoke in this unreal
moment.

The corners of his lips twitched up and mine
followed suit. What I had mistaken for a feather before was in fact
a wisp of my hair caught between his fingers. He brushed down my
nose one last time, then let go of the strand, and briefly knocked
my chin with his knuckle. “Good morning.”

“Hi.” My voice matched the warmth of the
sun.

“I hope you didn’t sleep like this all
night. Isn’t a windowsill an uncomfortable excuse for a
pillow?”

“Actually, I’ve slept in worse positions.”
The sereneness of our conversation and the peaceful morning
embraced me like an extra layer of blankets. The mixture of mint,
basil, and other herbal scents drifted on the breeze and filled my
head. I snuggled deeper into the crook of my arm. “What are you
doing here, anyway?”

“I came to wake you.”

A mellow chuckle rocked my body. “With
bunches of my hair?”

He shrugged. And he wasn’t wearing a shirt.
“Would you rather I poked you with a stick?”

The thought of being badgered with a piece
of wood made me grimace. “Hair is fine.”

My gaze followed the outlines of his naked
shoulders and firm biceps. Strong pecs twitched underneath smooth,
suntanned skin when Julian planted his elbows on his squatted
knees. I could have watched him like that for hours.

“We’re supposed to go out in a bit. If you’d
like to have breakfast first, Marie would be happy to see you in
the kitchen.”

“Eat again?” I cringed. My stomach was still
stuffed from the luxurious meal we’d had yesterday evening. “But
aren’t you going to have breakfast with them?”

“I don’t usually eat breakfast.” He rose to
his full height, smoothing his blue jeans over his thighs. “So, are
you getting up now or do I need to go looking for a stick after
all?”

I tilted my head up to look at his face.
“Please, no weapons. I’m coming of my own free will.”

His sanguine expression changed to devious.
“I’m trusting in that.”

Neck stretched, I watched his taut butt as
he walked to his room.

1. TEAMWORK
   

THE VERY SAME moment I reached the bottom of
the stairs, my mother emerged from her room, her bony body wrapped
in a purple house dress. Stupefied for a moment, I trudged outside
instead of into the kitchen and found a seat on a wooden bench on
the stone patio. Better skip breakfast today.

Lou-Lou lay curled up under the bench and
lifted her head to acknowledge me with a tired growl. I folded my
legs underneath me—no need to take unnecessary risks with the
black-eyed monster.

The morning sun warmed my face and bare
arms. Marie appeared through the front door and approached the
table with lazy steps. “Are you not hungry,
chérie
?
I
can make you a cup of tea or coffee if you like.”

“No, thanks.” I patted my still bursting
stomach. “The yummy dinner last night should keep me going for a
day or two.”

The corners of her lips almost lifted as far
as her ears. Oh my God. This woman had definitely touched my heart
if I had just made a compliment about her cooking.

“All right then, shall we go?” she
cheered.

I leaned sideways to peek around her. So far
it was only the two of us. Wouldn’t Albert and Julian come,
too?

She tracked my gaze and then confronted me
with a frown. “Are you expecting someone?”

“Where are the others? Are we going
alone?”

“Oh, no.” She waved a hand, then grabbed
mine gently, and pulled me up. “Your uncle and Julian are in the
field already. Albert can hardly wait until the cock crows before
he leaves the house to tend to his beloved vine.”

They left? How strange that Julian didn’t
take care of my mother before he went to work outside. Or maybe
he’d popped into her room while I was getting washed and dressed.
After all, I had taken nearly ten minutes to choose a pair of khaki
pants and another dark t-shirt from Marie’s donated stack of
clothes.

Initially, I had intended to wear my own
clothes. But they might have gotten dirty out on the field. I
wanted them in nice shape for my escape tonight. Well, in as good
condition as possible, overlooking the hole in the knee of my jeans
and the tattered hem of my sweater.

Marie tugged on my arm and started for the
vineyard. “
Allez
, Lou-Lou,” she ordered over her
shoulder.

With a yawn, the giant dog emerged from
under the bench to trot along beside me. I inched closer to Marie,
but she assured me the Saint Bernard meant no harm. “In fact, a
squirrel was the biggest thing she ever dared to get involved
with.”