Second Chance With The Best Man. Katrina Cudmore

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      Her heart somersaulted.

      She grasped for the window control and buzzed down her window a couple of inches, only then realising how stifling the car had become as she’d been held hostage by the beast. She longed to run a hand through her hair, check her make-up in the mirror. But she resisted giving him any sign that she cared how she looked in his eyes.

      He came to a stop a few feet away from the car. The beast came to heel at his command. ‘Hannah...’ Her heart pinged at the concern in his eyes. ‘Are you okay?’

      The low, intimate sound of his voice almost undid her. Memory after memory rushed through her brain—how he used to leave her voicemails that had her blush and giggle. His mouth against her ear when they would be out with others, whispering a compliment, a promise. The Saturday mornings when they used to cycle to their favourite French bakery in Putney Heath and eat breakfast while playfully flirting, her legs trembling when his fingers would stroke her hand, her arm, her cheek, before he would suggest that they head home. His murmured words when they made love afterwards that had swelled in her heart and burst like joyful bubbles in her bloodstream.

      Hannah breathed in deeply. She was over him. She had to remember that fact. Her focus now was on deciding which direction her life should take. Stay in her career in finance either in London or Singapore or take the risk of becoming a full-time wedding celebrant in Spain. Her old cautious side told her to hold on to her regular income and secure career but deep inside of her she wanted to be free to make her own decisions away from the confines of corporate life, to make a difference by being an integral part of one of the most important days in any person’s life.

      She was here to support Lara. To celebrate with her and François. Laurent Bonneval was just a minor aggravation in what should be a gloriously happy weekend.

      Now was the time to enact the calm professionalism she’d sworn she would adopt for the weekend. Unfortunately her trembling hands and somersaulting stomach didn’t appear to have received that particular memo.

      She buzzed down her window a fraction more. Nodded in the direction of the beast. ‘I’d appreciate it if you’d lock him away.’

      * * *

      Something unyielding kicked in Laurent’s chest at the coolness of Hannah’s tone and stony expression. He pointed in the direction of the stables; at his command Bleu ambled away to where he slept alongside the horses.

      Hannah’s gaze followed Bleu’s every step and even when he disappeared from view, her gaze remained fixed in that direction. ‘Will he come back?’

      He edged closer to her door, crouched over to speak to her in the small gap of the window. ‘I heard him barking—I’m sorry if he scared you.’

      She shook her head as though to deny any suggestion she’d been scared. ‘Is he yours?’

      ‘Yes.’

      She grimaced at that. He knew that she was scared of dogs. He cursed himself for not having locked Bleu away. Lara had told him Hannah was due to arrive around this time but Bleu had looked so despondent when he’d led him to his kennel earlier, Laurent had relented and allowed him to accompany him as usual on his evening run. ‘Despite appearances, he’s as soft as a marshmallow. He just wanted to say hello to you.’

      Hannah shook her head, clearly not believing him. ‘He’s terrifying—I’ve never seen anything like him.’

      ‘He’s a Grand Bleu de Gascogne. He has a very affectionate temperament.’ Moving to the car door, he opened it. Hannah’s gaze shot back to the corner of the château where Bleu had disappeared and then back to him. He gave her a smile of encouragement. ‘He won’t come back, I promise. You can trust me on that.’

      Her forehead bunched and her mouth dropped into an even deeper scowl.

      For long seconds she stared at him unhappily, heat appearing on her high cheekbones, but then with a toss of her head she yanked her handbag off the passenger seat and stepped out of the car.

      In the silence that followed he cursed François. When François had told him that Hannah was to be their wedding celebrant he’d been incredulous. François knew of their history, how uncomfortable it would be for them both, but François, usually so sanguine, had refused to change his mind in the face of Laurent’s demand that someone else take on the role. His only compromise was his pledge that he and Lara would be present in the château at all times over the weekend to smooth any awkwardness between him and Hannah.

      ‘Your journey—was it okay?’

      Hannah shrugged at his question and moved to the boot of her car. ‘I’d like to go inside and see Lara.’

      By her tone, he knew she was as keen as he was for the others to be present in the château. But once again, his father had decided to make life difficult for everyone around him. He followed her to the boot of the car and lifted out her suitcase. ‘François and Lara called me earlier—there’s been a change of plans. They’re now staying in the family apartment in Bordeaux overnight. Lara tried calling you but she couldn’t get through.’

      Her expression appalled, Hannah pulled her phone from her handbag, ‘I’m having problems connecting to the French network.’ Then with an exasperated breath she asked, ‘Why are they staying in Bordeaux?’

      ‘Apparently my father had already made a restaurant booking for them and refuses to cancel. He wants to show Lara and her parents some of the city’s nightlife.’

      Her head turning in the direction of the château, she asked uneasily, ‘So who’s staying here tonight?’

      ‘Just you and me.’

      Her eyes widened with horror.

      Irritation flared inside him. He’d known she wouldn’t be keen for his company, but did she have to make it so obvious?

      But then his indignation sank into guilt. He and he alone was the cause of all this tension. The least he could do was try to make this weekend somewhat tolerable for them both.

      Leading her in the direction of the main entrance, he said, ‘Let me show you to your room. All of the château staff have this evening off as they will be working long hours in the coming days with the wedding.’ Inside the coolness of the double-height hallway of the château, his desperation to take a shower and have something cool to drink abated a fraction. The heatwave hitting most of south-west France for the past week was becoming unbearable. He kicked the front door shut with his heel, knowing he was only trying to kid himself—the weather had little to do with how he was overheating.

      This always happened when Hannah was nearby.

      Pale pink sleeveless blouse tucked into mid-thigh-length lemon shorts, plain white plimsolls on her feet, thick and glossy brown hair tied back into a high ponytail, she was all delicious curves and sweetness.

      He uttered a low curse to himself. He knew he’d hurt her. She deserved better than him remembering how incredible it was to hold her, to feel her soft curves. But in truth, their relationship had been built on a bed of intoxicating mutual attraction.

      He’d seen it flare in her eyes in the moments after they had first met, their handshake lasting a few seconds longer than necessary, neither trying to pull away.

      That СКАЧАТЬ