French Escape: From Daredevil to Devoted Daddy / One Week with the French Tycoon / It Happened in Paris.... Barbara McMahon

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СКАЧАТЬ saying she would only serve breakfast until eight-thirty. If they didn’t come down by then, she would place a cold collection of continental breakfast rolls and biscuits and hot coffee on a serve yourself basis on the buffet.

      So far everyone but the couple in room three and Matt had been served. Just as she carried a bin of used dishes toward the kitchen, Matt came down the stairs.

      “I’ll bring you chocolate in a moment,” she said, motioning for him to take a seat at an empty table. Glad for the busy tasks facing her, she hurried to the kitchen. Dumping the plates in the sink, she placed the silverware into a soaking pan and then dried her hands. She made a new pot of hot chocolate and placed it on a tray with the hot breakfast strata, a basket of rolls and jams. Lifting it easily, she carried it out.

      He’d taken a seat at one of the tables by the window. She smiled brightly and placed the edge of the tray on the table while she unloaded his breakfast. “I have strata for breakfast today. And assorted rolls and breads. Anything else I can get you?” She did not let her gaze linger. He seemed to be avoiding her eyes as well.

      “This looks like all I need. Thank you.” He reached for the hot chocolate. “How are you feeling today?”

      She brushed her hands over her apron, trying to rein in her racing heart. A quick glance around showed everyone was eating. She wanted to escape. “The bath helped. I feel a bit stiff today, but not sore. Let me know if you need anything further,” she said, tilting the tray sideways and walking back to the kitchen. She felt as if she’d run a mile.

      Alexandre came running in. “Hi, Mama, is it time to go to the parade?”

      “Not yet. I have to get the kitchen cleared first. Our guests are still eating.”

      “Is Matt there?”

      “Don’t bother him,” Jeanne-Marie warned. She plunged into the soapy water and began washing the silverware.

      When she looked up a moment later she was alone in the kitchen. Quickly drying her hands, she went to the door. Alexandre was standing beside Matt, talking earnestly.

      Jeanne-Marie hurried across to them.

      “Come away, Alexandre. I’ll make your breakfast.”

      “I want to eat with Matt,” he said. “Don’t you want me to eat with you? If you eat alone you’ll be lonely.”

      “He’ll be fine here,” Matt said.

      “He can eat in the kitchen.”

      “He’ll be fine.” Matt looked at her, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Unless there’s a reason you don’t want him here.”

      “You’d probably like peace and quiet.”

      He looked at the little boy. “I think conversation would be best this morning.”

      Alexandre beamed. He pulled out the chair across from Matt and sat down. “I can eat here, Mama.” He looked at Matt. “We’re going to La Fête de la Victoire de 1945 together. There’ll be lots to see. Did you want to come with us? “

      “No,” Jeanne-Marie said. “We’re meeting Michelle and Marc and Pierre, remember?”

      “But Matt would like them. Marc is big like him. Then we would all have a friend at the parade. Michelle and Marc, me and Pierre, and you and Matt. It’ll be good, Mama.”

      “I’m sure Matt has already made plans for the day,” she said. “I’ll get your breakfast. Don’t be pestering him.”

      “Did you make plans?” Alexandre asked when his mother walked away.

      “I was going for a climb,” Matt said. Truth be told, he had planned to do another climb not as challenging as he’d been doing. He was getting a later start than he wanted, due to a sleepless night.

      But as he ate and listened to Alexandre’s chatter, he thought more about changing plans and going with the Rousseaus to the fete. Would Jeanne-Marie be amenable? Or would she rather not mingle her guests and friends? She’d gone quickly to her quarters yesterday after they’d returned to the inn, saying she needed to soak in a hot bath.

      He’d gone to town to eat and hadn’t seen her again until this morning.

      Alexandre bounced on his chair. “I love fetes. I like the food and the parades. And all the people. Sometimes I can’t see everything because I’m little, but then Mama picks me up to see better. Pierre’s dad picks him up really high. Mama can’t pick me up so high. You are very tall. You could pick me up highest.”

      “If I were going with you.”

      “Can you, please?”

      When Jeanne-Marie returned from the kitchen with Alexandre’s breakfast, both of them at the table looked at her. “Mama, Matt is going with us to the fete and he’ll lift me up high to see!”

      Jeanne-Marie’s eyes widened and she stared at him. “You’re going with us?”

      “If you don’t wish me to lift him, I won’t. But he would be higher, don’t you think?”

      She nodded, putting the plate in front of Alexandre, trying to understand what was going on. “I thought you were climbing.”

      “I can climb tomorrow.”

      Jeanne-Marie didn’t know what to say. How would she spend the entire day in close proximity to Matthieu Sommer?

      They left the inn just before ten o’clock. Alexandre was beside himself, racing out in front, then running back to urge them on. Jeanne-Marie was careful to keep a distance between herself and the stern-looking man walking beside her. He had not smiled again like he had yesterday. If anything, he seemed to regret it. Still, he was going with her today. She wondered what Michelle would think when she showed up with him.

      The small coastal town was already crowded with colorful booths lining both sides of the main street, which had been closed for the day. Everything imaginable was for sale, from fresh warm cookies to scarves, sunglasses, wood carvings, brassware, and original paintings and crafts of every kind. When they began to be jostled by others, Jeanne-Marie took hold of Alexandre’s hand so he wouldn’t get separated from her in the growing crowd.

      The tricolor flew on every lamppost and by each booth. The joy in the day was evident by the happy revelers. It was a perfect day.

      Or would be if she could enjoy herself instead of being so very aware of the man walking at her side. She was getting too interested in her guest. Surrounded by the crowd, she still felt as if she and Matt were almost alone. She had to pay attention to what else was going on around her.

      Matt studied the scene from time to time, looking wherever Alexandre pointed. They passed a juggler mesmerizing his audience. A small band played near the town center, with people crowding the sidewalks to enjoy the music.

      They stopped at every booth. Matt wondered if the entire day was going to be silent, with Jeanne-Marie not speaking. He reached out and took her arm, stopping her.

      She turned and stared at him with wide eyes.

      “If you СКАЧАТЬ