Revealed: A Prince and A Pregnancy (3 page)

‘The menu,’ said Inigo, effortlessly following her train of thought, which was no mean feat all things considered. ‘Unless you’d rather start with the table wine choices and work back to the menu from there? I won’t tell the chef if you don’t.’

‘At the risk of sounding decisive, I’m all for choosing the wine first,’ said Simone. ‘Gaby?’

‘All we need is some still white wine for the tables,’ said Gabrielle as Inigo placed a leather-bound folder on the table in front of her. ‘We have the cabernet sauvignon and the champagne sorted.’

‘We certainly do,’ said Inigo. ‘The chef keeps sneaking into the cool room to look at the champagne and genuflect. Would you like a tasting bottle brought up?’

‘Yes,’ said Simone and Gabrielle in unison, never mind the half-empty bottle of white wine back in Simone’s room.

‘And for the red I’ve set aside the Angels Tears,’ continued Inigo as he headed for the doorway. ‘I’ll bring a bottle of that up for you too.’

‘I thought your wine was called Angels Landing,’ said Simone, harking back to an earlier thought.

‘Most of it is,’ said Gabrielle. ‘This is private stock. Rafe and I bottled it years ago, just after I arrived on his doorstep. He let me name it.’

‘That’s quite a name.’ Simone sought Rafael’s gaze. He stared back at her impassively, as if determined to give her nothing to work with. No words. No emotion. Nothing. Surely, he could give her
something
to work with. It didn’t have to be tenderness. Civility would do.

‘It’s possible I may have been a little morose at the time,’ confessed Gabrielle. ‘What can I say? I was sweet sixteen and I’d just been kissed. I’d also just been banished to what felt a lot like the end of the earth. It wasn’t one of my better years, but it had its blessings,’ she added, with a quiet smile in Rafe’s direction. ‘The wine is good,’ she said, turning her attention back to Simone. ‘It’s very good.’

Simone believed her. ‘I look forward to tasting it. Meanwhile, shall we take a look at the table whites they have on offer?’ Ignoring Rafe, she tried to get on with the task at hand. What had Gabrielle chosen to go with the finger food earlier? ‘A Semillon Blanc?’

Gabrielle nodded and flipped the pages over until she reached the required section. Simone perused the list over Gabrielle’s shoulder. It was a big list. Most of the wines were Australian. She knew nothing of Australian white wines. ‘Something regional?’

‘Not this region,’ said Rafael, finally offering input. ‘Red wine rules here, not white. And if it has to complement the Caverness, I suggest you start at the bottom of the list and stay there. This one.’ He pointed to one of the labels. ‘Or these two.’

‘Decisiveness
is
quite appealing in a man at times, isn’t it?’ murmured Gabrielle.

‘Oh, quite,’ agreed Simone, while her gaze clashed with Rafael’s in a battle that had nothing to do with the words and everything to do with establishing which of them was better at controlling the raw and powerful need that ran between them. ‘Such a pity Inigo isn’t here to witness it. We could have watched him swoon.’

‘You can watch me swoon instead,’ said Gabrielle. ‘I’ve just found the rack price for those wines.’ She looked to her brother. ‘I can’t ask Harrison to pay that price for wine.’

Harrison was Rafael and Gabrielle’s father, remembered Simone. Josien had refused him access to his children in their younger years, but Rafe had gone to him when he’d left Caverness. Harrison had welcomed him. He’d welcomed Gabrielle too, when she’d been unceremoniously bundled off to Australia. A generous man, thought Simone. And a patient one. What was it that he farmed again? Some sort of beef cattle. Lots of ups and downs in the beef-cattle market. ‘Ask Luc to pay for the wine,’ she suggested.

‘Ask
me
,’ said Rafael with a lopsided smile that tugged at Simone’s heart. ‘How many times are you planning on getting married, angel?’

‘Once,’ said Gabrielle with quiet conviction.

‘Then do it right,’ he said gently. ‘Harrison will pay. Try stopping him. And so will I.’ He spared a lightning glance for Simone. ‘We don’t need Duvalier money.’

‘Isn’t pride a sin?’ murmured Simone, goaded into retaliation. ‘I thought it was.’

‘Stick around,’ he said grimly. ‘I’ll give you a taste of all seven.’

‘If you say so.’ Simone allowed herself a brief fantasy interlude. Rafael’s mouth on hers, hot and devouring. Her hands on him, desperate and racing. Desire bit deep and flared beneath her skin, overwhelming caution and reason and straining her control. How far could she stretch his seemingly iron control? ‘Can lust be next?’

‘Oh, boy,’ muttered Gabrielle. ‘Just pretend I’m not here. Come to think of it, I’ve just remembered a very important meeting I should be at.’

‘Stay,’ said Simone and Rafael in unison.

‘This was your idea, remember?’ added Simone.

‘What the
hell
was I thinking?’ said Gabrielle. ‘Oh, yeah. I remember now. I was trying to help the two of you arrive at some sort of truce before my
wedding
. Silly me.’

Simone felt a stab of contrition. It joined the lust and mingled surprisingly well. Probably the latent Catholic in her. ‘I’m sorry, dear heart. I will behave.’

Inigo reappeared, bearing champagne in an ice bucket in one hand and a bottle of red wine in the other. ‘Do I hear the satisfied silence that comes of having made a swift decision?’ he asked hopefully as he set the wines on the table.

‘Not quite,’ said Gabrielle. ‘But we’ve narrowed it down to three.’

‘Which ones?’

Gabrielle told him.

Inigo beamed. Inigo preened. ‘You won’t be disappointed. Mind you, the thought of how long it’s going to take you to pick a favourite from that selection fills me with terror,’ he said, presenting the champagne to Simone for approval, and, at her nod, popping the cork and deftly filling three glasses in rapid succession.

‘Take the rest of the bottle through to the kitchen, please, Inigo,’ said Simone. ‘Tell the chef it’s his for the tasting and that we’d like his thoughts on what sort of canapés he thinks might best accompany it.’

‘Are you serious?’ Inigo glanced towards Rafael as if for confirmation. ‘Is she serious?’

Rafael nodded. ‘She likes to delegate from on high.’

‘Well, that’s one interpretation,’ said Simone sweetly. How could she be expected to behave in the face of Rafael’s constant baiting? ‘I like to think of it as letting the experts do their job.’ She picked up the ice bucket and handed it to Inigo. ‘Kitchen,’ she said.

‘Kitchen,’ murmured Inigo. ‘I’m on my way. I’m seeing the princess’s master plan unfold and I’m loving it. I’ll just pour a glass for myself as well as one for the chef and wax lyrical over the bouquet for a moment or two before suggesting that we call his apprentice and my offsider in to work tonight so that we can concentrate more fully on the weighty issue of planning a menu around such wines. Then I’ll go and get the whites you requested. Right after I uncork the red for you.’ Which he did. ‘There we go. Breathe, little cry baby, breathe. I have a hunch I’ll be seeing
you
later.’ Humming cheerfully, Inigo made his exit.

‘Congratulations,’ murmured Rafael. ‘You’ve made a conquest.’

‘Haven’t we all,’ countered Simone with the tilt of an eyebrow.

‘Simone,’ said Gabrielle sternly, ‘don’t tease. I can’t be held responsible for the consequences if you do. Rafe’s not twelve any more. He’s unlikely to put a frog in your shoe in reply.’

‘Pity,’ said Simone with wistful sigh. ‘I like frogs.’

As a child she’d built homes for them in the shady nooks in the gardens of Caverness, and Rafael knew it. The frogs he’d put in her shoes had been gifts for her, not retaliation for her teasing, and
she
knew it. ‘To frogs,’ she said, and reached for the champagne.

‘To the children of Caverness,’ said Gabrielle, picking up another glass of the gently bubbling liquid. ‘May they never weep again.’

‘Lovely,’ said Simone approvingly. ‘Although possibly a little optimistic.’

‘Just how much wine have you two already had?’ asked Rafael.

‘He had to go and spoil it,’ said Gabrielle, eyeing her brother darkly.

‘No sense of occasion at all,’ agreed Simone, sipping her champagne. ‘Oh, this is
good
. Rafael, try some.’ She wasn’t inebriated. She didn’t think for one minute that a glass of champagne, even if it was a superb vintage, would change Rafael’s opinion of her. She just wanted Rafe to be able to relax around her, just a little, so that she could relax, so that maybe, just maybe, they could get through this evening without bloodshed.

Rafael’s lips tightened as he reached for the only glass of champagne still left on the table. Half of it went in one long swallow. The man was obviously thirsty and royally out of sorts. Maybe she’d been a bit hasty in sending the rest of the bottle to the kitchen.

‘It’s Luc’s favourite vintage,’ she told him. ‘Do you like it?’

‘It’s superb,’ he said curtly. ‘Not that you need my opinion.’

‘Just checking,’ she said. ‘I do that a lot. Occupational hazard.’

‘And what exactly is it that you do these days, princess? Besides delegate, that is.’

Ooh, he was asking for trouble. She didn’t care how big and beautiful he was. ‘Oh, nothing much,’ she said airily. ‘I spend a bit of time pottering around the gardens of Caverness. I oversee the running and maintenance of the chateau. I run the European marketing arm of the Duvalier winemaking dynasty. That sort of thing.’

‘Don’t forget all the hiring and firing,’ injected Gabrielle. ‘You do that too.’

Simone shook her head. ‘Luc usually does all that.’

‘But you were the one to suggest that Josien find work elsewhere,’ said Gabrielle quietly.

‘Oh.’ She took a deep breath. ‘That. So I was.’

Rafael’s sudden stillness unnerved her. The intensity of his gaze unnerved her more.

‘You fired Josien?’ Rafe’s voice was mild. Too mild.
‘You?’

‘Yes.’ Simone tried hard not to quail beneath the onslaught of that searching blue gaze. She’d fired his mother from a position Josien had held for almost thirty years, but not without good reason. Rafe hadn’t been there. He hadn’t seen for himself how untenable Gabrielle’s position as Luc’s wife would have been had Josien stayed in residence as housekeeper to Caverness. ‘Me.’

‘Why?’

Now
there
was a question in need of a careful answer. Never mind that Rafe had been baiting her and she him ever since he’d stepped into the room. Never mind that he’d been estranged from Josien for years. Criticising a man’s mother was never a sensible thing to do. ‘Because I wanted her gone from Caverness.’

‘Why?’

‘Can we please not have this conversation?’ she said.

‘Too late,’ he said. ‘We’re already having it. Why did you fire Josien?’

‘Because it was time she left Caverness,’ she said curtly, and cursed him for pushing her for answers she didn’t want to give. ‘Because I refused to sit back and watch her poison the happiness Gabrielle and Luc had found.’ She lifted her chin. ‘Because I could.’

Rafael drained the rest of his champagne. He looked as if he were swallowing the bitterest of pills rather than vintage champagne. ‘Good,’ he said gruffly.

‘Pardon?’ squeaked Simone.

‘I’d have done the same,’ he said.

He…
‘What?’

‘You heard.’

‘Well, yes, but…’ Had he really just given his
approval
? ‘Was that a compliment?’

‘I don’t know,’ he said with a twist of his lips. ‘It could have been. It was hellishly hard to say aloud.’

‘I think it might have been,’ she said, and with a swift and challenging smile, ‘Does this mean we’re friends?’

‘No, it means we have a common foe and I’m impressed by your ruthlessness.’

Was that the shadow of a smile in his eyes? Hard to tell, but she thought it might be. ‘I had a good teacher,’ she said with a shrug. ‘He taught me how to protect the people I love. I was a little slow on the uptake, but I got there eventually.’

‘Josien’s not coming to the wedding, by the way,’ said Gabrielle with a lightness that didn’t quite mask her disappointment. ‘She says she’s not yet recovered enough from her pneumonia to attempt the travel.’

‘But surely you expected as much?’ said Simone. ‘I
thought you held the wedding here so as to keep her
away
?’

‘Well, yes, that
was
one of the reasons for holding it here,’ acknowledged Gabrielle. ‘But not the only one. I’m having second thoughts.’

‘Don’t,’ said Rafael, and the hardness was back in his eyes. He loved hard, did Rafael. Simone didn’t need to be reminded that he hated hard too.

‘Maybe you’ll pay her a quick visit on the way back from your honeymoon,’ said Simone gently. ‘Maybe given time and happiness of her own she’ll come to accept who and what you are.’

‘Didn’t the person who showed you how to protect the ones you love teach you not to believe in fairy tales?’ murmured Rafael.

‘Yes, but it never stuck,’ said Simone. ‘Unlike him, I believe in forgiveness and redemption. I believe that with a little effort from both parties, a failed relationship can be rebuilt. Maybe not to what people
hope
for, but something. Something worthwhile.’

‘Optimist,’ he said.

‘Coward.’

‘Oh, boy,’ said Gabrielle as the maître d’bustled back into the room.

‘More wine,’ said Inigo cheerfully. ‘Lots and lots of wine.’ He glanced at Rafael’s empty champagne flute. ‘Who’s a thirsty boy, then?’ And in a whispered undertone to Simone, ‘The chef wishes to propose to you. When’s a good time?’

‘Maybe later,’ said Simone as Inigo opened the three white wines and organised glassware.

‘I’d stay,’ said Inigo flashing her a wide white smile, ‘but I know you need no guidance when it comes to
tasting wine and I have to return to the kitchen and guard my champagne.’ He pointed towards a little brass bell on the sideboard. ‘Tinkle when you’re done.’

‘I’ll come with you,’ said Gabrielle hurriedly. ‘I need to have a word with the chef about a duck dish for the menu.’

‘And here I thought your decision-making abilities had deserted you,’ said Simone dryly.