Having the Frenchman's Baby

“Thank you, Maman, but I don’t expect this to become a habit, tu comprends?”

She did too much. He understood why, but it had to stop.

“Can’t a mother do something for her son?” she chided him affectionately.

“By the way, there was a message on the office answering machine. Giselle said it just came in from a Ms Valentine. I didn’t realize you’d been doing business with a buyer from London.”

His body stilled. “Giles has been taking care of her. What did her message say?”

“Something came up, forcing her to leave the area. But she faxed you a very large order, and—”

“Forgive me, Maman, but I have to go.”

He put his car in gear and backed out to the road. There was no time to waste. Something had gone on since Giles had dropped Rachel off, otherwise she would have said something to the old man.

Yesterday Luc had felt out of control. As for today…

If he could be this upset at her leaving, how would he feel to get truly involved and then lose her the way he’d lost Paulette?

Maybe it was better that he let her walk away now, before it was too late.

But even as he reasoned that way, his foot pressed the accelerator to the floor, sending the Wagoneer barreling down the mountain.

Knowing Rachel, she’d rented a car. But whether she was on her way to Champagne, or had left for Colmar to catch a flight back to the UK, was anyone’s guess.

Before he called her cell, he phoned to retrieve her message.

Unfortunately it told him nothing about her itinerary.

Letting go with an expletive, he punched the digit where he’d stored her phone number.

After two rings he was told to leave a message.

His hand almost crushed his phone before he made a call to Remy.

The other man couldn’t help him out except to tell him she’d left in a Monde Français rental car.

Monde Français.

Luc’s friend Georges worked there. He would tell Luc what he needed to know.

Rachel switched the cell phone to her other ear.

“Can you hear me better now, Emma?”

Her half sister was always in the kitchen in the afternoon. As she was the head chef at Bella Lucia, it was the best time to reach her. The rest of the day would find her too busy.

“A little. Go on. What were the ingredients after the scallops and sauerkraut?

“Add some grilled bacon and a sauce of clotted cream with a touch of herbs and Chartier Riesling.”

“That sounds interesting.”

“Last night I had one of the best meals I’ve ever eaten in my life. I thought you might like to experiment with it. It won’t taste the same without the Chartier label, of course, but at least it will give you the idea.

“I’m bringing you and Max back a bottle of the real thing. If you love the recipe as much as I do, you might want to add it to the menu. Their wine is to die f—”

Rachel broke off talking because someone behind her was honking.