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Authors: Rebecca Stratton

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BOOK: Lost heritage
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Lizette had been considered too, as a possible source of information, but she was still far too highly strung, although she cried far less often, Charlotte believed. She was not a woman that one could hold a serious c(Hiversation with for very long, and she had such a poor memory it was doubtful if she would be of much use anyway.

If ever she felt like taking a stroll before breakfast, Charlotte did not bother to look in on Lizette first, for she was

mostly quite late waking. It was so quiet and peaceful in the huge grounds around the chliteau and on early summer mornings there was no better way to begin the day than walking oa cool turf beneath the chesmut trees.

It had been quite by accident that she learned of Raoul's daily ride, when she spotted him one morning some distance away and mounted on a tall rangy stallion who looked just difficult enough to handle to appeal to Raoul. Long-legged and wilful, the creature had tossed its head impatiently when Raoul reined in for just a second to acknowledge her greeting, and Charlotte had thought then how well diey went together.

She saw him now, coming her way and letting the animal have his head as he raced across the turf, Raoul ducking his head to miss the lower branches of die trees, anticipating each move to perfection and keeping control without making it obvious. Something he was radier good at, she mused as she watched him.

Since Madame Menais had spoken to her about her suspicions concerning herself and Michel, she had not seen him alone to speak to, and she half-h(^)ed, as he came swifdy towards her on the flying stallion, that he would simply ride on past. Instead he came straight for her and reined in the animal as soon as he was within speaking distance, his eyes half concealed by the thickness of his lashes as he looked down at her.

*Good morning, Charlotte.'

The greeting was neither warm nor distant, merely polite, and she did her best to respond in the same way. *Good morning, Monsieur Raoul.*

A flicker of impatience drew at his black brows for a second and his mouth twitched briefly at one comer. *Are

you in a transitional stage between formality and familiarity?' he asked, and Charlotte frowned up at him curiously.

LOST HERITAGE

117

Tm sorry?'

'Sometimes I am given a title to my name and sometimes not; he pointed out. *I assume that it depends upon your mood of the moment!*

*Oh, I see.' Trying to guess which he preferred, she glancwi at his face once more, but caught a hint of mockery in the grey eyes that determined her response inmiediately. •I'm sorry if you find my familiarity offensive. Monsieur Raoul,' she told him with mock humility. 'I sometimes forget; I hope you'll forgive me.'

He swore sofdy in French, and for a moment Charlotte expected he would put his heels to his mount and ride off. Instead he swung one leg over die animal's back and slid smoodiiy to the ground, his booted feet thudding on to the turf beside her.

*Grand'm6re has spoken to you,' he said, as if that explained her attitude. *She told me diat she meant to-4iave

a word with you.'

'Because you told her you suspected me of—oh, heaven knows what I' Charlotte said, her face flushed warmly. Tou even put die idea into her head diat I might have had an affair with Michel!'

*Most certainly I did not I ' Raoul's eyes narrowed in die way she was all too familiar with now and he regarded her steadily for a moment, one hand holding the rein and the odier a riding crop which he tapped against one leg to signify his impatience. *I informed her diat you are here to find a man from your past,' he insisted, widi such confidence diat she knew she had been right to guess he would not be convinced.

- *You stiU harbour diat ridiculous idea that I'm looking for some secret lover?' she asked impatiendy.

*I still believe you have some ulterior motive for being here,' he insisted firmly. 'Because you told me so yourself, and I mean to find out what it is, Charlotte, believe me I*

*If you think you can bully me into-

*I said nothing about bullying you,' he interrupted sofdy, and she hastily lowered her gaze when she saw the way he locked at her mouth. *There are other means, ma belief*

*You won't give up, will you?*

She looked up at him in despair. If anyone could ruin her chances of finding out about her parentage it was Raoul, and she wished she could have had him on her side, that she could have confided in him as her heart urged her to. It was strange how close she sometimes felt she came to him, when all he did was to suspect her, even accuse her.

Tapping the crop absendy against his leg, he eyed her for a second from the dark shadow of his lashes. 'I do not intend to give up,' he assured her. 'Although Grand'm^re seems very sure that you are as innocent as you appear! That you have nothing in mind that can hurt us.*

It was too difficult to go on looking at him when she thought just how shattering her discoveries could prove to him and his family, but when she lowered her eyes he im--mediately put a hand beneath her chin and raised her face again. It was the hand that held the crop and at the touch of the handle on her skin she flinched, though not from him as it might have seemed.

'Look at me!* he commanded quiedy, and Charlotte raised her eyes obediendy, but only for a second, then she lowered her thick tawny lashes once more. 'I do not trust you one centimetre,* he said in a voice that slid like warm silk along her spine, 'but if I ever do discover that some man has deceived you, I promise that I will make him very sorry for what he did. Do you believe me?*

Qiarlotte's heart thudded wildly and she automadcally put up a hand to move the one that still held her chin. *I— you don't have to punish anyone,' she whispered, finding her voice almost non-existent, and Raoul's wide expressive mouth smiled with a hint of cruelty, strong white teeth

gleaming against tanned skin for a moment.

If I find that you are after all playing some devious game of your own,' he said still in that shiver-inducing voice,'it will be you who is punished, ma belle; believe that also!'

*Raoul '

She looked up, unsure for a moment just what she meant to say, but he was much too close and the lean virile strength of him teased her senses and made her curiously breathless. She spread her hands in the familiar gesture of appealing helplessness and wished there was something close enough to cling to, for her legs felt as if they were no longer capable of supporting her.

To reach out was instinctive and he was already holding out his arms to take her, pulling her close to the vibrant strength of him, pressing her closer until she could feel every muscle in the taut body moulding her close, making her part of him. The stallion snickered in surprise at finding, himself free of restraint and tossed his head, but Raoul seemed unaware that the rein had been tugged from his hand as he bent his head to seek Charlotte's upturned

mouth.

He kissed her more passionately than before, but without anger. A long searching kiss that explored the softness of her mouth with an exciting curiosity, then became suddenly so fierce that she would have cried out in protest if her mouth had not been so forcefully stopped. Her heart beat hard and wildly, making her head spin, and there was no strength in her legs, nor anything but fluttering appeal in the hands that plucked at his shirt.

One arm held her with irresistible strength against him while long, confident fingers opened the fastening at die neck of her dress and pushed back the cool cotton to expose soft shoulders and a slender vulnerable throat. He bent his head lower and she murmured breathlessly ^cn the

warmth of his lips pressed lingeringly to the pulse in her neck.

*Raouir

Her voice sounded to be coming from someone else and she tried hard to open her eyes and bring the moment to an end, but her senses rebelled against it ever ending. His big hands were heavy and warm on her bare shoulders and his mouth with hypnotic insistence from her throat to her neck, and from soft smooth shoulders to her mouth once more.

It was when he raised his mouth briefly from hers that she opened her eyes, but his lips lingered warmly for a second or two, light and sensual and slighdy pursed to remind her that he could still kiss her again with the minimum of effort. Easing the pressure of his arms slighdy, he allowed her to move within their circle, although her legs still felt barely able to sustain her weight.

Eyes downcast, she tried desperately to recall the conversation that had led up to this moment, and she swallowed hard as she put her hands to the arms that still enclosed her, her senses responding immediately to the suggestion of muscular power beneath the tanned skin. She could not afford to let anyone divert her from her purpose, and especially not Raoul, he was too much of a threat to her cause. Her best course lay in keeping her mind on practical matters and not on the stunningly dangerous excitement of his kiss.

An ama pressed the hard thin length of the riding crop into her back, and as she desperately snatched at the remnants of her self-control she made that her excuse. *You're hurting me with that riding crop in your hand, Raoul.'

It was incredible to realise that that small and very unsteady voice was hers, and she did not look up at him when

he direw the whip down on the ground beside hiin and immediately replaced hh arm about her. *I am not trying to hurt you, ma belief he said sofdy, and bent his head once more to press his lips to the soft, vulnerable spot at the base of her diroat. *Why should I wish to hurt you, Charlotte,

eh?'

'Because you don't trust me,' she whispered, and went on quickly when she heard him draw breadi to deny it. Her own voice was light and breathless and the words fluttered wispily against the thick black hair on the back of his bowed head. *And you don't trust me, Raoul, you've said

so!'

He raised his head and his grey eyes were narrowed as he searched her face for a second before he spoke. *And you think I should trust you, Charlotte?' he asked, soft-voiced. He held her gaze until she looked away as she was bound to, then he shook his head slowly and pressed his big hands into her waist as if he was trying to span it with his long fingers. *We have a very low opinion of one another, have we not, ma chereT

When she looked up Charlotte was unsure whether or not she meant to deny it, but there was a hint of mockery, she felt, in the gleaming greyness of his eyes and she attempted to step back, away from him, seeking widi trembling fingers to ref asten the neck of her dress as she did so.

*I have to go,' she said huskily. 'Madame Lizette will be waiting for me.'

If he resented her haste to end the situation he gave no sign of it, and it crossed her mind briefly to wonder if he was so very different from Michel after all. After a moment he let his hands drop from her waist and watched her for a second as she fumbled with the fastenings of her dress, then he brushed her hands aside and did it for her, his long fingers as sure and steady as when he had opened them.

Only very briefly she glanced up at his face, but there was nothing to be learned from his eyes because the thick black lashes concealed diem.

*Thank you.'

Her thanks in the circumstances seemed to surprise him, but she hoped she imagined the brief glint of mockery she saw in his eyes as he reached for the stallion's rein once more. She shook back her hair in an unccHiscious gesture of defiance and half-turned to go.

'Charlotte '

'I have to go!' She made it sound desperately urgent, as her senses tdd her that it was, for she was far too vukierable to the exciting sensuality of Raoul Menais. 'Madame Lizette will wwider '

*Why are you so interested in my namesake—the other Raoul Menais?'

He stood holding the stallion's rein, tall and lean against the background of new summer green, and his grey eyes had the gleaming brightness of steel as they watched her steadily, so that she flicked the tip of her tongue across her lips before she spoke, in a small husky voice that was barely audible.

*I—^I don't know that I'm interested in him particularly,' she denied. 'I'm just—a litde curious perhaps. The same name, you '

* And you are lying to me again, ma beUe !' he told her, his voice soft but vaguely menacing. Twice with me you have shown your interest!'

Too stunned to move for the moment, Charlotte watched him gather up the reins and swing himself up on to the horse's broad back once more, hdding the tossing head firmly while he looked down at her. Then just for a moment that gleaming smile showed once more in his tanned features.

1 believe I have found a weakness in your English re-

serve, ma belle Charlotte-^you enjoy being kissed!' Charlotte coloured furiously, shaking her head. 1 had

no-

*It is useful to know,' Raoul interrupted confidendy. Tor I promise you that I shall discover your secret sooner or later, and I prefer to enjoy the task!' Pulling his mount round firmly, he jabbed his heels into the glossy flanks and raised the crop he carried in a brief gesture of farewell. 'A bientot!'

Charlotte reaUsed just how late she was when she glanced at her watch as she hurried along the gallery. She should not have allowed those few moments with Raoul to go on so long, nor should she have let matters get so out of hand. A hand strayed instinctively to her mouth and it needed very little imagination to recsdl the firmness of his lips and the thrilling strength of his arms.

It had been a mistake, so the practical side of her nature told her, but another, more emotional side told her she could have stayed there for ever in Raoul's arms, and even given up her quest to discover her background if it

meant Impatientiy she shook her head as she knocked

on the door of Lizette and Michel's apartment.

It was no use waiting for someone to bid her come in, she knew from experience. Lizette seldom heard anyone knock on the door and Michel would already have gone downstairs to his office or else left for the factory. He seemed to spend as litde time as possible in his home.

The big rooms seemed curiously still somehow, and she paused after she walked in, to listen for some sound that would tell her Lizette was awake and waiting for her. But it was quiet, very quiet, so perhaps Lizette was still asleep, however late it was, and with ±at idea in mind she tiptoed to the bedroom door and knocked very hghtly.

BOOK: Lost heritage
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ads

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