put his empty cup on the tray. Lines darkened his face. “At this point you’re wondering how they could have produced a defect like me.”
Her breath caught. “Defect?”
“You don’t need to pretend. I saw the shock on your face when you discovered I was his son.”
She sat up in the bed. “If I registered that emotion, it was because I realized your experiences in the military had to account for your treating me like I was the enemy.”
“I’m afraid certain experiences in my life have caused me to distrust women. In that regard Papa and I are at opposite ends of the spectrum.”
“I have proof of that.” Andrea studied him for a moment. “What did you think I was doing in the forest the other night?”
His eyes flickered. “To be honest, I forgot I wasn’t on a mission. My automatic response was to render you helpless and either kill you or send you on your way depending on my gut feeling.”
She shivered. “What did your instincts tell you?”
A frown marred his features. “When you stood your ground, I realized I’d turned into some kind of monster.”
“Ten years in the elite force would change anyone, especially since you suspected me of ulterior motives where your father was concerned.”
After a strange silence, “Are you afraid of me, Andrea?” he drawled silkily.
Wishing she hadn’t spoken her mind, she reached for the roll and took a bite. “How could you ask me that when you were the one who rescued me today?
“If I didn’t make myself clear, let me do it now. I’m very grateful for your help, but you won’t have to worry about me much longer. After tomorrow I should be feeling well enough to fly home.”
His expression remained inscrutable. “Even if that’s true, my father wouldn’t hear of it. He’s been sick the whole time you’ve been at the château. I’m afraid you’ll have to stay on for a while.
“As soon as he’s well enough to walk around again, Papa plans to delight you with a special tour of the grounds. The experience will give you the opportunity to take more pictures to add to your husband’s book. That is why you came, n’est-ce pas?“
She lowered her eyes. “Yes, but—”
“No buts. The matter’s settled. While you recover your appetite, the doctor told you to get plenty of bed rest and drink fluids. I’m here to see that you do.”
In one lithe movement he got to his feet. “If you need anything, all you have to do is pick up the phone and press two. I’ll answer.” He continued looking at her. “Let’s hope the little you’ve eaten makes you feel better. I’ll be in later to say good-night.”
She sensed his disinclination to leave. “I’ll be fine. Thank you for everything.”
He pursed his lips. “I don’t want to come back and find you lying on the floor.”
“If I feel that weak, I promise to let you know.”
“See that you do,” came the grim rejoinder before he left.
Feeling oddly bereft after his departure, she reached for one of the magazines to keep her mind occupied. It was full of articles on European architecture. Though printed in French, she didn’t require a translation to digest the fabulous photographs.
However nothing she saw equaled the magnificence of the Château Du Lac. Or Lance himself …
Her thoughts wandered back to his comments at the clinic. Hearing the news with you made me feel like I’m the father. It’s an experience I wouldn’t have missed.
He’d sounded like he’d really meant it. What an incredible man …
After putting the magazine back on the table, her gaze traveled to the wall paintings. Guinevere seemed exactly the same as before. But this time when she studied Lancelot, it was Lance Malbois’s face and body she saw everywhere she looked. The way his eyes adored the queen filled Andrea with a strange envy.
For the first time she found herself curious about Lance’s stepsister. Did she elicit that same kind of worship from him?
The Galerie Bouffard in Rennes stayed open until nine-thirty on Thursday nights. Lance made his way through the crowded store from the book section to the camera department.
After explaining what he needed to the employee, the man showed him several upgrades of the camera Andrea had been using. It didn’t take Lance long to choose something state-of-the-art to replace the one his horse had smashed to pieces.
He included a pack of film with his purchase, then asked for directions to the infant department. He’d never shopped for baby clothes in his life, but learning Andrea was expecting made him want to do something to help her celebrate. Since he didn’t know if she was carrying a boy or girl, he decided to stick with white and yellow, both safe colors, the assistant had assured him.
By the time the young female employee had shown him everything, he left the store with half a dozen little outfits and two baby blankets in those colors, a baby book and a Fifi the poodle-in-the-box that played a French tune, all gift wrapped. Among the ribbons the clerk tied three rattles he’d picked out.
As she handed him the bag of packages, she winked at him. “Your new baby’s lucky to have a father like you.”
She’d made a wrong assumption, but he liked the sound of it. “I’m the one who’s lucky.”
“Don’t be a stranger now. Babies grow.”
They did indeed. Lance found himself looking forward to watching Andrea blossom. During that moment in the lake when he’d helped her to the surface, he’d felt a quickening as the rich contours of her body pressed against him. Her imprint still lingered, causing him to think thoughts he hadn’t entertained for a long time.
“Merci, mademoiselle.”
After emerging from the ascenseur, he made his way to the main doors of the store.
“Eh bien, if it isn’t Lance Malbois, you handsome devil. Geoff didn’t tell anyone you were home on leave.”
He looked back over his shoulder to discover Helene Dupuis, the wife of his father’s best friend. She was a good person, but a gossip. Lance had hoped to keep his homecoming a secret for a while, but bumping into her had dashed that idea.
“Bonsoir, Helene. Comment ça va?”
“I’m very well, and I have to tell you I’m thrilled to see you are, too. Geoff worries about you. It’s no wonder he’s been so sick even Yves and I have been barred from dropping in,” she chided.
Henri knew what he was doing. Though she meant well, a visit from Helene would have been too exhausting. “He’s getting better now. By next week he’ll want to see both of you.”
“Yves will be delighted to hear it. How long can we expect you to remain this time?”
Lance decided to tell the truth since it would come out anyway. “I’ve retired from the service.”
“You’re home for good?”
“Oui.”
Her eyes lit up. “Oh—I must give a party!”
He shook his head. “That’s very nice of you, but no parties. I have too much work ahead. Now if you’ll excuse me. Papa’s waiting.”
“But of course. You go to him, and we’ll see you soon.”
“À bientôt, Helene.”
“I know someone else who’s going to be ecstatic at the news you’re home,” she called after him. But he pretended