Having the Frenchman's Baby

The more Rachel studied her, the more she could see the resemblance in the arched eyebrows and those dark brown eyes staring at her with that same startling penetration.

But instead of intense male admiration, Madame Chartier’s eyes gave off a hostility that was barely veiled.

“I’m Rachel Valentine, madame.” She swallowed hard. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

The tension was palpable.

“You’re the buyer from the UK.”

“That’s right.”

His mother’s attractive features hardened. “You’ve come to the Wine Route of Alsace. There are over a hundred little villages with hotels, yet you couldn’t find a room in one of them while you did business here?”

Her disapproving gaze examined Rachel from her damp, disheveled hair to her bare feet.

“I ended up here because of the storm.”

“I see.”

“Luc said it was too dangerous to go anywhere.”

“Was that before or after you sent our office your wine order?”

The question hung out there like a live wire.

“After,” she answered honestly. “We were afraid the vines in the vineyard here would be destroyed, so I came with him to help him tie them to some more stakes.”

His mother’s wrists were crossed over her flat stomach.

“How clever of you to ingratiate yourself in a way my son couldn’t possibly have refused.”

“Look, Madame Chartier, I—”

“No explanation is necessary,” she cut Rachel off. “The situation speaks for itself. How soon do you expect my son?”

“I—I don’t know.” Her voice faltered. “He said he had business. I would imagine he’s out surveying any damage to his other vineyards.”

“You would be wrong in that assumption, mademoiselle. His managers would have already phoned him if there’d been anything serious to report. The business he has every morning is at the hospital in St Hippolyte.”

Rachel frowned. Was he on the board? With his prominence, he was probably involved with several civic institutions.

His mother put her hands in the pockets of her sage-colored top. “I can see he’s told you nothing.”

Rachel took a fortifying breath. “We haven’t known each other long.”

“Long enough apparently.”

Those shrewd dark eyes wandered over the robe Rachel was wearing.

“His sister bought that last year for his thirty-fourth birthday. She’d be surprised to see anyone else wearing it.”

“I’m sorry you had to see me in it,” Rachel apologized. “I realize it has come as a shock to find me here.”

“A bigger shock than you can imagine.”

“Naturally you wouldn’t have known about me. I only came to Alsace on Monday,” Rachel explained in the hope of making this easier on both of them.

“So I understand from Giles.” Her eyes narrowed. “How soon do you intend to return to England?