Susan Stephens Selection. Susan Stephens

come to entertain at the party?’

      She realised she was wringing her hands in alarm—and Guy could read body language with the best of them, Kate realised, shoving them behind her back fast.

      ‘Or are they perhaps—’ it was like being held by her ankles over hot coals, Kate thought as she waited for him to finish ‘—paying guests, Kate?’ The edge in his voice wasn’t half as effective as the prolonged silence that came after the accusation.

      ‘Well?’ he demanded quietly. ‘Don’t you think you owe me an explanation?’

      There was something approaching menace in his voice and it rattled Kate’s faltering hold on composure. ‘You said you wouldn’t mind my opening an office,’ she reasoned, gulping hard.

      ‘An office, no,’ Guy agreed in the same measured tone.

      ‘So? Is this so different?’

      ‘Is what so different?’

      ‘My guest house.’

      ‘Your what?’ he spat out.

      ‘You heard me,’ Kate insisted, drawing herself up. She would not be intimidated—she would not. His arms shot out like two steel girders, keeping her imprisoned with her back against the counter.

      ‘The covenants on La Petite Maison do not permit it,’ he growled very close to her face.

      The force of his stare would have been enough to make most people fall to their knees and beg for mercy, but Kate had seen that look before. Tossing up her head, she confronted the molten steel gaze unblinking. ‘Well, I didn’t know anything about your wretched covenants when I started to plan all this and now it’s too late to do anything about it.’

      ‘You obviously haven’t read through those documents I gave you… Well, have you, Kate?’ he demanded fiercely. ‘And you might have done better to make some enquiries before you started planning your new venture,’ he said curtly. ‘But you know what really annoys me?’ he added, staring straight into her eyes, and as Kate shook her head dumbly, he went on, ‘The fact that you couldn’t be honest with me—that you couldn’t trust me enough to tell me about these plans of yours.’

      ‘Perhaps if you hadn’t kept on about those wretched covenants—’

      ‘This has nothing to do with covenants, Kate, and you know it,’ Guy snapped back at her. ‘This is about trust.’

      He kept her trapped in front of him, forcing her to draw her head back from the heat in his gaze.

      ‘Trust between two people,’ he continued, ‘requires that they are straight with each other. Don’t shake your head at me like that, as if you haven’t the slightest idea what I’m talking about…’

      ‘I don’t,’ Kate ground out miserably, wondering how long it would be before his anger was tainted by contempt.

      ‘Well, I’ll explain,’ Guy promised tersely. ‘You trusted me with your body, but when it comes to your life, you shut me out. What sort of woman does that, Kate?’

      His accusation was stunning in its ferocity and Kate’s head felt as if it was being held inside a steel vice and where there had been fire in her veins now there was only ice. ‘I don’t understand…’

      ‘Non, Kate,’ Guy corrected her bitterly. ‘I’m the one who doesn’t understand. Did you really think I was such a monster?’

      ‘So, how do you feel about my plans?’ she challenged.

      ‘Furious now,’ he admitted frankly. ‘I’m not going to let it happen.’

      ‘But it is happening,’ Kate pointed out, wishing she could sound a bit more sure of that.

      With a gust of impatience, Guy wheeled away from her. He took a couple of strides across the room, where he drew to a halt with his back to her and swiped one tense hand across the back of his neck. ‘This isn’t a game, Kate. You aren’t a little girl now. You can’t just arrive in Villeneuve after all these years and turn everything here upside down.’

      The passion in his voice frightened her. ‘And is that what I’m doing?’ Kate demanded softly.

      ‘You know you are,’ Guy murmured without turning around.

      She longed to go to him, to say how sorry she was and ask if they could begin all over again. But the deep-rooted reserve she had always felt, being lower on the social scale than the Count de Villeneuve, held her back. He turned very slowly and stood in silence looking at her, his face a mask that told her nothing.

      ‘There’s no time to discuss this now,’ he said decisively. ‘You have guests waiting outside and more are due to arrive at any moment.’

      ‘That’s right,’ Kate agreed, holding her breath to see what he would say next.

      ‘Just remember, Kate. These estates and the people who depend upon them don’t exist for my pleasure. I serve the Villeneuve estate and everyone connected with it. It’s up to me to ensure that the environment in which we all live—’

      ‘Is sterile?’ she cut in.

      He looked hurt by the remark. ‘I cannot allow you to run a guest house here,’ he said flatly.

      ‘And I cannot allow you to tell me what to do,’ Kate retorted, returning to the fray.

      ‘Perhaps if you had read those damned documents you would understand—’

      ‘Understand what?’ she said, shaking her head with frustration.

      ‘There’s no time,’ Guy said tensely. ‘The future of the Villeneuve estate may mean nothing to you, Kate. But it’s my life.’

      ‘And a pretty boring one with no characters in it,’ she pointed out stubbornly.

      ‘There are more than enough characters in the village without you importing any more,’ Guy informed her as he flared a glance out of the window. ‘Those covenants stand, and if you can’t, or won’t, live by them—’

      ‘What? Get out?’ Kate suggested angrily. She watched his jaw clench as he bit back the words that were clearly clamouring in his head. Guy wasn’t used to being countermanded. She could see his iron will flexing from every angle in the mirrors over the counter; his eyes were narrowed, his mouth a firm line, jaw tight and the magnificent spread of his shoulders were raised in a tense pose as he braced his hands against the side to watch Megan showing the others round the garden.

      ‘No, not that,’ he murmured to himself. ‘That would be far too easy for you.’

      What did he really see? Kate wondered as she followed his gaze. Could Guy see La Petite Maison already working its magic on those six people outside, as she could? Did he hear their laughter, see the animation in their faces, the glow of anticipation in their eyes? How would he feel when he knew his own mother…?

      He pulled away from the counter at last and stared down at her.

      ‘I can’t stop this now,’ Kate said tensely. ‘I know you’re angry with me, but—’

      ‘I’m more disappointed than angry,’ he said honestly, ‘that you didn’t see fit to share your plans with me.’

      His anger wouldn’t have hurt so much, Kate realised. But what she had told him was true—she couldn’t turn back now. There were too many hopes invested in La Petite Maison. She only had to think of what Megan had given up. ‘If you force me to, I’ll fight you every inch of the way.’

      ‘Of that I have no doubt,’ he murmured.

      For a few moments nothing seemed to exist beyond the drama being played out between them. Kate felt exhausted by it before she started.

      ‘You’d better get ready,’ Guy said, reading her mood. ‘Everyone will be here soon.’

      ‘So