Susan Stephens Selection. Susan Stephens

Giles said, clearly unconvinced that anyone could make things happen with quite the same speed as the Count de Villeneuve, ‘I will be back to help you again.’

      ‘I appreciate that more than I can say, Giles,’ Kate said, standing as Giles prepared to leave.

      ‘That was the best lemonade I have ever tasted, mademoiselle,’ he said, putting his glass down on the kitchen table. ‘And the dips, the crudités too—delicious! I shall be sure to tell Elise, my wife. We are already looking forward to your party, but now—’ He rolled his eyes in a great show of anticipation.

      ‘It looks as if I was rather presumptuous in offering you the services of my chef,’ Guy remarked once Kate had seen Giles out.

      ‘No, no,’ Kate said. ‘It was kind of you to offer.’ Gathering her thoughts for a moment, she leaned back against the door. Even though she had been the owner of La Petite Maison for six months she had occupied the cottage for such a short while, yet it had been long enough for Guy to turn her whole world upside down. And the worst of it was that she prided herself on her integrity above everything. In all her business dealings her word was her bond—yet here she was holding so much back.

      ‘What’s this, Kate?’

      She made a small interrogative sound as she looked at Guy and, following his gaze, she felt her stomach lurch. She should have known it would only be a matter of time before he began to tease out all the loose threads of her deception. He was standing in front of the mirrors Giles had installed for her. ‘They are for…’

      ‘Oui?’ he pressed. ‘What is this—the house of mirrors?’

      ‘They reflect the light,’ she pointed out lamely, hoping that would deflect his interest.

      Guy’s scepticism showed in the way his lips quirked down at the corners, but he made no comment until he turned to survey the impressive new cooking station in the centre of the room. ‘Well, I must say you’re well equipped,’ he observed mildly. ‘And this is a massive kitchen now…for someone living on their own.’

      ‘I plan to entertain a lot,’ Kate said quickly.

      ‘That doesn’t surprise me,’ Guy said as he wandered across to take his pick from the plate of appetisers. ‘From what I’ve tasted so far, an invitation to La Petite Maison is guaranteed to be the hottest ticket in town.’

      ‘I certainly hope so,’ Kate said, remembering the pleasing number of forward bookings she had already received for the cottage in its latest guise as a guest house.

      ‘But mirrors round three sides of the room?’ Guy said curiously. ‘Isn’t that a little excessive? You’re not thinking of opening a bordello, are you?’

      Kate’s cheeks flamed as quite suddenly the mirrors took on a whole new range of possibilities. ‘Certainly not,’ she said. ‘I’m fond of light, that’s all.’

      ‘If you say so.’

      ‘I do say so.’

      A few moments passed between them before Guy broke eye contact. Then, reaching inside his jacket, he extracted an envelope from the pocket.

      ‘What’s this?’ Kate asked as he held it out to her.

      ‘A copy of the restrictive covenants presently in force on La Petite Maison,’ he said evenly. ‘I thought you should have a look at them as it may be some time before you are able to arrange an appointment with your solicitor.’

      ‘I’ll take a good look at them,’ she promised, making no move to open the envelope.

      ‘I think you should,’ Guy said as he walked to the door. ‘I’d better go. I’ve been away from things long enough.’ He paused with his hand on the door handle. ‘We’ll have a chat about those covenants over dinner some time.’

      Kate managed a tense nod. Her fingers were burning with the urge to rip open the package and see just what new problems stood in her way. Guy would never have wasted a visit for no reason. Whatever information was contained within the documents was sure to be dynamite. His expression now was impenetrable and she didn’t flatter herself that he had come round for a replay of The Kiss. In fact, since that moment he hadn’t betrayed by so much as a glance or a smile that he had kissed her in so skilful, so knowing a way—while Kate wondered, on the other hand, if she would ever be able to put it out of her mind.

      As Guy strode off down the path Kate’s grip on the envelope tightened. Seeing him swing into the driver’s seat, she looked around the room, trying to see the kitchen through his eyes. Had he guessed what she intended to do? Had he been convinced by her explanation that she loved cooking…loved to share her passion with friends? Whatever he thought he would find out the truth soon enough.

      Somewhere just beyond the tousled hedge she heard the engine roar into life, bringing on another rush of guilt. She swallowed it back fast. There was nothing between them. Even The Kiss had meant nothing to him. He had just slipped back into the habit of a lifetime—teasing her as he always had—except that she wasn’t a child any longer. Impatient with herself for dwelling on a hopeless situation, Kate turned her attention to those things she could do something about.

      By the time she reached the long oak table she already had the documents out of the envelope. Business was her anchor, a forum in which she excelled and, most crucially, an arena where emotions played no part. A sense of relief swept over her as she sat down. But she could only bring herself to skim the top sheet. However hard she struggled to keep her mind on the task and her eyes firmly focused on the page, all she could think of was Guy.

       CHAPTER FIVE

      ‘MEGAN! I can’t believe it’s you!’ Enveloped in a hug that went the best part to smothering her, Kate clung to Aunt Alice’s friend as if she would never let her go.

      ‘There now, stand back and let me look at you for a minute, will you?’ the older woman insisted. ‘Tears? What’s this, pet?’

      ‘Surprise at seeing you,’ Kate lied as she dashed them away. Tears were completely out of character, but since returning to France everything seemed to have gone haywire. And now she was so pathetically grateful to see Megan O’Reilly, who was to be Course Leader for the art groups Kate planned to host, it was ridiculous. It was a thrill just to hear the lilt of her Irish accent again and such a relief not to be alone in the venture any longer. Pulling herself together, Kate began, ‘Megan, you look…’

      ‘As disreputable as ever, I know,’ Megan said dismissively. ‘Kettle on?’ she added hopefully, looking past Kate into the kitchen as she heaved the bulging carpet bag at her feet back on to her ample shoulder.

      ‘I’m sorry,’ Kate said as she took in the state of Megan’s colourful multi-layered clothing. ‘It’s so hot today. You must be exhausted. Come on in.’

      ‘My, my… You’ve made quite a few changes since your aunt Alice lived here,’ Megan observed as she looked around the room. ‘And all these mirrors—what’ve you got planned, Kate? Something naughty, I hope?’

      ‘I thought they’d be useful for teaching—help people see what I’m doing during demonstrations,’ Kate explained. ‘You’re the second person to remark on them,’ she admitted, smiling to herself as she put the kettle on the hob.

      ‘How is his lordship?’

      ‘How did you know I meant Guy?’

      ‘Oh, come now, Kate,’ Megan said as she eased her bare feet out of a pair of shabby loafers and wiggled her toes. ‘There’s no need to be coy with me. Don’t tell me you two haven’t been catching up on old times?’

      ‘I don’t know what you mean,’ Kate said, glad to have her back turned as she buried her head in a cupboard to search out some crockery.

      ‘I might be an old