Having the Frenchman's Baby

His hands went to her shoulders. “On top of everything else, I find I’m married to a writer who has an exceptional grasp of an industry I’ve worked in all my life. You possess a remarkable gift for combining the technical aspects of wine culture with the ability to express your excitement as only you can do.”

A smile broke out on her face. “Thank you.”

“It’s only the truth. When we first met, one of the qualities I enjoyed most about you was the depth of your appreciation for life. That empathy with the world surrounding you flies off the pages and makes the words live.”

His approval meant everything to her. “So you don’t mind that you and Giles served as my inspiration?”

His gaze traveled over her upturned features. “You know better than to ask me that question,” he murmured. “As I was reading, I marveled to see the thoughts and feelings I’ve held for years brought to life with such artistry and accuracy.

“Once you’ve spent some time with Jean-Marc, you can devote a section to Pinot Noir. A good red wine is difficult to achieve. He knows the secret and will be only too happy to tell you all about it.”

Luc’s unexpected comment thrilled her. She was starting to get really excited about her project.

“I’m hoping that one day when I’ve finished it, a publisher might be interested.” She took an extra breath. “If by some miracle that should happen, would you be willing to write the preface?”

His hands cupped her face. “I’d be honored,” he whispered against her lips.

They were leaning against each other, but Luc didn’t pull her closer, or try to kiss her the way he’d once done.

Since flying to New York, he was a different person who treated her as if she were an honored guest rather than the love of his life. Since she was neither, she would have settled for something in between.

When she’d agreed to marry him, she’d thought he expected they would sleep together. But he was acting as if he no longer wanted her in that way.

Her heart plunged to her feet. What if he didn’t?

She couldn’t imagine living with him on a twenty-four-hour basis without the intimacy that had created their baby.

“Your book is such a delight to me, Rachel, I want to return the favor. I haven’t furnished the small bedroom off the guest bathroom yet. How would you like to drive into town and we’ll start buying some things for a nursery? Anything your heart desires.”

Anything her heart desired…

If you didn’t love your wife, then the next best thing to do was buy her gifts. But in Rachel’s case, everything was for their baby.

She couldn’t take exception to that. Her life had been in so much turmoil, she hadn’t been able to give a lot of thought to cribs and changing tables yet. But Luc had been through all this before. Though he admitted to being terrified that something could happen to their baby, she sensed he was eager to get busy doing all the fatherly things.

“I’d love it,” she said before walking over to the table to get her laptop. “Give me time to change and I’ll meet you at the car.”

As she started to leave the kitchen she felt his gaze burn through the back of her top.

If she were to turn around now, she had the impression she would see the brooding Luc she’d first met. The man whose moods could change like quicksilver depending on certain situations triggering them.

Was he thinking of the time he and Paulette had picked out a christening cap and gown for their little boy? The joy they’d felt because nothing had yet happened to blot the sun from their universe?

With tears threatening, she ran the rest of the way to the bedroom and went straight for the closet.

Luc had hung up her garment bags. She unzipped one of them and pulled out the white suit she’d worn on her first day in Alsace.

In case they bumped into people he knew while they were in town, she didn’t want to let him down.

In an area like this where everyone knew the Chartier name even if they didn’t all know him personally, his recent marriage to Rachel was going to create a lot of talk.

Giselle and Jean-Marc’s warm welcome had gone a long way to help her handle it. But if by any chance they were to see Luc’s in-laws or his mother…

Rachel couldn’t think about that right now or she’d have to tell Luc she’d changed her mind about leaving the house.

Once dressed, she removed the ribbon from her hair and brushed it until it swirled against her shoulders.

A touch of lipstick and she felt presentable enough to spend an afternoon out in public with her husband.