She withdrew her hand and made a fist as if to capture his kiss. “It’s nice to hear.”
“You don’t believe me.” It wasn’t a question, but an accusation.
From the backseat, Marc interjected his own question. “When we get there, will I get to stomp grapes?”
Christian’s mood brightened at yet another chance to curry favor with his son. “Sure.” Although the grape harvest wasn’t set to happen for another week, there would likely be a way to pick a few grapes and let Marc and the other kids participate in the ritual.
“No.” Noelle shook her head, adamantly opposed.
“Mama, please.”
“I think your mother is worried that it will stain your feet purple.”
“Will it? That’s great.”
He shot Noelle a triumphant look, not the least bit daunted by her scowl. Christian intended to do whatever it took to win his son’s love. Even if it meant siding with him against his mother from time to time.”
“Christian, I don’t think that’s a great idea.”
“It’ll be fun. Something he can show off at school and make the other kids jealous.”
“Wine-colored feet?” She shook her head in a maternal show of disgust. “Okay, you can stomp grapes.”
While Marc whooped in the backseat, Christian reached over and squeezed Noelle’s hand in thanks. Her lips softened into a smile at the gesture, and she put her hand atop his.
The car rolled down a long driveway flanked by fields of grapevines and came to rest near the low building that housed the tasting room and an intimate space available for private parties and lunches such as the one Christian had planned today with Noelle.
Almost before Christian turned off the engine, Marc had unbuckled his seat belt and was keyed for the instant his mother opened the passenger door and tipped her seat forward. He wiggled through the door and was off across the lawn in a flash, heading for the tasting-room door. Noelle called after him, but Marc was too excited to slow down. By the time she and Christian reached the building, Marc had disappeared inside.
“I love his enthusiasm,” Christian commented as he held the door open for Noelle. “Everything is an adventure. You’ve done a good job raising him.”
“Thank you, but the job’s not over yet.” She paused in the doorway and touched Christian’s arm. “I know I haven’t done much to improve your relationship with Marc, but I want you to know that watching you with him this weekend has made me realize how important it is that you two bond.” She paused. “No matter what happens between us, I want you and Marc to have as much time together as possible.”
“I appreciate that.” While he was grateful for her approval, he was less than pleased that she continued to doubt whether they had a future as a family.
“Mama, is this where I get to stomp grapes?” Marc tugged at her hand. “Can I do it now?”
Christian chuckled. “Let me talk to Louis and get it all set up,” he told his impatient son. “Why don’t you see if Daphne has some fresh grape juice for you to try.” He indicated a pretty blonde girl behind the bar. While Marc raced toward the bar and climbed up onto the tall stool, Christian turned to Noelle. “Give me a couple minutes to get Marc settled. Then we can go on our tour.”
Nine
Noelle waited until Christian disappeared through a door in the back of the tasting room before joining her son. Even without a single sip of wine, she was suffering the effects of intoxication. Not that she could be blamed for feeling giddy and light-headed when Christian turned on the charm. The man had convinced her to let her son stomp grapes. Noelle shook her head, contemplating the reactions of Marc’s teachers and his classmates’ parents after he broadcast his weekend’s activities at school. No doubt she would have some explaining to do.
But to see her son so happy was worth it. Noelle sighed. Watching Marc’s wariness toward his father fade made her question her decision to not tell Christian that she was pregnant. At the time she’d been afraid he’d reject her again. No. That wasn’t the whole truth. She’d also been angry.
She was still angry.
Last night she hadn’t gone to Christian’s room motivated solely by desire. She’d had something to prove to herself and to him. She needed to prove that she could surrender her body to the passion he aroused without giving over her heart at the same time. Leaving as abruptly as she had was meant to demonstrate that this time around she wasn’t going to lead with her heart but her head. The woman she was today never would have taken the little Christian had offered her five years earlier.
But she would never be truly happy keeping her emotions bottled up, either. There had to be a happy medium between giving too much and not giving enough.
At Marc’s insistence, she sat beside him and tasted his grape juice, pronouncing it delicious. He gave her a huge grin and then went back to telling Daphne all about the armor he’d seen at Bracci Castle. Noelle ran her fingers through his thick, dark hair and considered how many times a day he reminded her of Christian.
As if summoned by her thoughts, he appeared at her side. “Ready for the tour? Louis’s son is going to take Marc to where the other children are. They’ll play for a while and have lunch. Afterward Louis is going to set up the grape-stomp contest to see who is the best stomper.”
“Me!” Marc exclaimed, jumping down from his stool, fists in the air.
Noelle laughed at his enthusiasm. “Well, you certainly have the energy for it.” She ruffled his hair and watched him run toward a tall boy who was gesturing for him to follow.
Half an hour later, she and Christian came to the end of the tour, and Noelle was eager to sample some of the wines she’d learned about. “I’ll never take wine for granted ever again,” she promised Christian before thanking their guide, Bracci Vineyard and Winery’s exceptional winemaker, Louis Beauchon.
“I’m glad to hear it.” Louis was a handsome man in his early forties with prematurely gray hair and striking blue eyes. He had a ready smile and an abundance of hilarious stories about people he’d worked with during his twenty-five years of winemaking. “You’ll have to let me know what you think of our wines after lunch.”
“I’m afraid my palate is nowhere near as experienced as Prince Christian’s, but I look forward to sharing my impressions.”
“That’s all I need. I’ll see you later at the grape stomp.”
Christian steered her along a curving path that wound through the garden at the back of the tasting room and through a set of French doors that led into an intimate dining room. At the center of the space was a single table set for two and covered with a white tablecloth and fine china. Two servers, dressed in black and white, stood to one side of the room, welcoming smiles on their faces.
Once Christian had assisted her into her seat and joined her at the table, the servers stepped forward and poured the first wine. Noelle lost herself in Christian’s deep voice as he described the wine being served and commented on the meal to come. One course followed another, each being served with a different wine. Despite the small portions, Noelle was beginning to feel overcome by all the rich, flavorful dishes by the time dessert arrived.
“Chef Cheval is a genius, but I don’t think I could eat another bite,” she protested, as a delicate chocolate basket filled with white chocolate mousse and a single raspberry was placed before her. As with each course, the gorgeous plating made the food irresistible. How could she resist dessert? “Maybe just a bite.”
Noelle didn’t notice Christian’s intense regard until she’d scraped the plate clean and set her spoon aside. She cocked her head at him but had no opportunity to ask why he was staring. A short, round man in chef’s whites entered the room, his toque set at a jaunty angle.
“Prince Christian!” the man exclaimed in a deep baritone. “How wonderful to have you back.”
“Chef Cheval.” Christian gestured in Noelle’s direction. “This is Noelle Dubone.”
