Rebecca Winters - Falling For Her French Tycoon

She’d learned of her condition at the age of twenty. Nathalie had ovulated only once by then. That was seven years ago. Since that time, she’d ovulated only twice. After what had happened with Guy, her natural worry was that any man she would meet in the future might have reservations about adoption, but she couldn’t think about that now. Nathalie knew it had been the right decision to stop seeing Guy and didn’t regret it.

Her mind kept going over what had happened to Antoinette. Her stepsister had fallen madly in love with a man she’d met in this very bistro. She’d loved him so much she’d had his baby.

Today Nathalie felt certain she’d met her stepsister’s lover inside that tent. One look at him and she’d understood the chemistry. Love at first sight, sweeping Antoinette away. But clearly the fire had been only on her stepsister’s part because he’d disappeared on her.

He couldn’t have known he’d left her pregnant, could he? After meeting him, Nathalie knew he was the kind of man who could have any woman he wanted. Antoinette had likely been a dalliance for a month, then nothing more.

Now that Nathalie had met him, she feared that if he was Alain’s father, he wouldn’t want anything to do with a baby he hadn’t intended to sire. Nathalie was beginning to think this had been a terrible idea and she should leave this whole thing alone. Alain had a surfeit of love from her and his grandmother. That would have to be enough.

“Mademoiselle?”

A man’s voice caused Nathalie to turn around. She’d been admiring some of the paintings of the Fontesquieu chateau and gardens adorning the walls.

“Perhaps you remember me?”

She blinked. “Yes. You were the man handing out applications earlier today.”

“That’s right. When I saw you walk in alone just now, I thought I’d say hello and offer to buy you a drink. My table is right here.”

This was probably how it had happened for Antoinette. Her lover had approached her in exactly the same way. Nathalie had to do some fast thinking. If she accepted the invite, she could at least learn the name of the man who had interviewed her. But she wasn’t attracted to this man and didn’t want him to misunderstand.

“Thank you, but I only came in to look around.”

“You can do that right here.” He pulled out a bistro chair for her so she would sit down. Then he took the other seat. “Have you been in here before?”

“Never.”

“My name is Paul Cortier, by the way.”

“I’m Nathalie Fournier.”

“ Eh , bien , Nathalie, please allow me to order you the specialty of the house, although you may not like it. Guinguet is an acquired taste.”

“Guinguet? Like the name of the bistro?”

“C’est exacte.” He signaled for a waiter who took their order. “The word comes from the guinguettes that were popular drinking places on the outskirts of Paris years ago. They served local sour white wine, a tradition this bistro keeps up.”

“Who makes the sour white wine here?”

“The Fontesquieu Vineyards.”

“Of course. Your employer.”

“That’s right. They make enough of it to keep the owner here in business.”

“Even though their grapes are red?”

Paul chuckled. “There are lots of secrets about red grapes I’d be happy to explain to you on another occasion. Perhaps on a tour of the winery itself? I’d be happy to arrange to show you personally.”

She shook her head. “Thank you, but just so you know, I’m not interested in a relationship with anyone, Paul.” It was the truth.

He squinted at her. “At least you’re honest.”

The waiter brought them each a small goblet of pale white wine. After he walked away, Paul lifted his glass. “Try it and let me know what you think.”

Nathalie, who didn’t actually like wine, took a sip, then struggled not to make a face.

Paul laughed. “Somehow I knew that would be your reaction. It’s not for everyone. But since you’ll be helping with the harvest, I thought you’d like a sample. Sort of a christening for you.”

She took another sip to please him. “I may not be hired.”

“Unless you have a police record, I don’t see any problem. Please tell me you don’t.” He was a charming flirt who never gave up.

She chuckled. “Not as far as I know.”

“That’s the best news I’ve had since I handed you an application.”

“I guess I’ll find out Monday morning if I made the cut. My interview didn’t last long since the man saw on the application that I knew nothing about grape picking.”

He cocked his head. “Is that true?”

“Yes, but I think it would be interesting to learn.”

“It’s hard work.”

“Ooh. I’m sure there’s a great deal to learn and endure.” She took one more sip, but knew she could never acquire a taste for it. “Now I hope you don’t mind, but I have to get going. When you spoke to me, I had only come in here to take a look around because one of the people in line told me about this place. It was very nice of you to buy me a drink.” There was no sign of the striking French god who’d interviewed her earlier.

“I’m sorry you have to go. Let me walk you out.”

“That won’t be necessary.”

“No problem. I’m leaving too.” He cleared their way through the crowds and walked her to her car, where she got in.

She spoke to him through the open window. “If I’m hired, we’ll probably see each other again.”

“I’m planning on it. Otherwise I’ll ask my boss why you didn’t get the job. He’ll go to Dominic for an explanation.”

“Dominic?”

“Dominic Fontesquieu. He’s one of the family heads who interviewed you earlier today.”

What?

“He rarely does any interviewing, but his brother, Etienne Fontesquieu, director of the vineyard, has been ill. If there was a problem with you, Gregoire will get it straightened out with Etienne so you will be hired. You can trust me on that.”

“Thank you very much, Paul. Bonne nuit. ”

NATHALIE DROVE AWAY with her heart in her throat. Could Alain be the son of Dominic Fontesquieu? A man who came from one of the most prominent, titled families in France?

Had it been an illicit affair on his part that he didn’t want getting back to his family? Had he sworn Antoinette to silence because of his name?

Maybe he’d been married and couldn’t afford a scandal that would make the news. If he were divorced now, it could explain the lack of a wedding ring. Or maybe he didn’t like to wear rings. She wondered if he’d kept his name a secret from Antoinette.

Suffused with more questions than before, Nathalie drove faster than usual, needing answers. Fifteen minutes later, she entered the house and found her mother in the family room watching TV while she worked on some embroidered blocks for a quilt. All was quiet, which meant Alain was asleep.

Nathalie sat down on the couch. “I’m glad you’re still up, Maman, because I’ve got something of vital importance to tell you.”

Her mother took one look at her and turned off the TV.

“Please don’t be upset with me if I tell you something that might make you angry.”

“Why would you say that?”

For the next ten minutes, Nathalie told her about her talk with Claire a month ago and her plan to look for Alain’s father. She explained about her visit to the Fontesquieu vineyard to apply for work, and ended by telling her about today’s discovery.

“This afternoon I found a man I believe could be Alain’s father and learned his name.”

Her mother leaned forward. “Good heavens, Nathalie. What do you mean you think you’ve found him?”