CHAPTER TWO

      TRYING to sound unconcerned, Tessa said, ‘OK, tell me.’

      The man squared his shoulders. ‘It’s a well-known scandal. Go into any village or town for fifty miles and mention Turaine and you’ll get several lurid versions.’ His gaze homed in on her as if watching for her reaction. She stared back with wide, apprehensive eyes. ‘The landlord, Lucien de Turaine, had a mistress who held complete sway over his every move. She led him such a dance around the fleshpots of the world that he neglected the village he owned and it gradually fell into disrepair.’

      ‘How awful!’ she exclaimed.

      ‘Criminal,’ he agreed. ‘But she was totally self-centred and de Turaine only too willing to be her slave.’

      ‘Amazing that any woman could influence a man that strongly,’ marvelled Tessa.

      ‘She was beautiful. And irresistible. One of those born flirts who are utterly confident about their looks and who use men to their own ends,’ he said cynically.

      Despising the woman, Tessa probed for more information. ‘Lucien de Turaine…If he’s the landlord, does that mean he owns the whole village?’

      He nodded, the bright sunlight catching the glitter in his eyes. ‘The family has owned the village for seven hundred years.’

      ‘Then I’m appalled that he doesn’t have a better sense of duty! It’s dreadful that he can’t be bothered to look after his tenants!’ she declared indignantly, ready to do battle on her mother’s behalf.

      ‘Couldn’t,’ came the languid correction. ‘The man is dead. His son has taken over.’

      ‘Is he more caring? Will he do the repairs, do you think?’ she asked anxiously, caught up now in the welfare of Turaine.

      ‘The village is bankrupt. The estate coffers are empty. The mistress drained his father dry. Every last damn penny.’

      Tessa’s face showed her shocked disapproval. ‘That’s outrageous!’ she declared. ‘I’m so sorry. What a dreadful situation.’

      ‘She’s a money-grabbing monster and deserves to be hanged, drawn and quartered.’ He sounded grim and she shot him a curious look, but his expression was neutral.

      ‘The damage is done,’ she mused soberly. ‘What’s going to happen if there’s no money for restoration? Will the son sell some of the houses and use the proceeds for repairs?’

      ‘I think,’ he said, in a casual tone that belied the disdainful curl of his nostrils, ‘the current seigneur would rather sell his soul.’

      A cloud crossed the sun, throwing the two of them into sudden shadow. Though a light remained in the stranger’s eyes which must have come from within. The air grew chill without the sun’s warmth, reminding Tessa that it was still the treacherous month of May. She gave a little shiver. However intriguing this might be, she was anxious to drive on and find out her mother’s situation for herself.

      ‘It doesn’t offer much hope for the village if he’s strapped for cash, does it?’ she commented quietly.

      Her poor mother. What conditions would she be living in? More than a little apprehensive now, Tessa unthinkingly bent and vigorously massaged her aching thighs and calves. When she straightened, throwing back the wings of pale blonde hair which had fallen across her face, she found herself the subject of a languid appraisal.

      Time to withdraw gracefully, she thought, recognising that maybe she’d chatted for too long and had been over-friendly. In the old days before her transformation, it wouldn’t have mattered.

      ‘That’s the trouble with long journeys on a road-bike,’ she said briskly, thinking she ought to explain away her massage. ‘Muscles begin to seize up.’

      ‘Yes.’

      He said no more. But somehow he imbued that one word and the expression in his suddenly velvety eyes with more sensuality than she would have believed possible.

      Tessa lifted a hand to her lips in a hasty defensive movement, wondering why he was staring at them so intently. The reason became clear when she felt her mouth. It seemed soft…and her lips had parted in a definite pout! Startled, she made sure her wayward mouth behaved itself by giving it something ordinary to say.

      ‘I’ve driven miles,’ she said. And she felt more than a little disconcerted by her staccato delivery. ‘From Roscoff. This morning,’ she added, hoping to redeem herself by sounding perfectly normal.

      Astonished, she registered that his entire body had seemed to contract a fraction, as if she’d said something of significance. ‘You came over on the Plymouth-Roscoff ferry?’ he enquired sharply.

      She hesitated, puzzled by his interest. ‘That’s right. Why?’

      ‘I’ve been to Plymouth. You live in an interesting place.’ He offered this banal piece of information with a show of great charm. But his eyes bored into hers disconcertingly.

      ‘Plymouth’s in Devon. It’s my nearest ferry point, but I actually live in Cornwall,’ she corrected him, with the pride of the Cornish. ‘Just…’ Her voice faded. What was it about the tenseness of his body that made her want to clamp her mouth shut? Reluctantly Tessa finished her sentence. ‘Just across the river from Plymouth.’

      ‘The town of Saltash?’ he asked. She nodded warily. ‘An attractive part of the world,’ he purred. ‘The river there has some of the qualities of the Dordogne, don’t you think?’

      ‘Oh, yes. Absolutely.’ Tessa pointedly drew her driving gloves from her pocket. She couldn’t help a grin. ‘They’re both wet.’

      He chuckled, as if amused by her evasion. ‘Are you here on holiday?’

      Caution put her on her guard again, though she couldn’t have explained why. ‘Kind of.’

      ‘There’s a lot to see and do, if you’re staying near here.’ And he zapped her with a disarming grin of encouragement.

      Dragging her eyes away from the dazzling white teeth, she firmly transferred her gaze to the clay-tiled roofs of the apparently deserted village and drew on her leather gauntlets.

      He was making conversation. He was bored—perhaps without a female companion for the evening.

      Even while she tried to explain away his keen interest she sensed something else behind the plausible charm. Perhaps she was being over-sensitive, but his manner made her feel uneasy. After all, they were alone in a fairly isolated place, with no one in sight, and she’d be an idiot to prolong this conversation.

      Determined to tell him nothing more, she produced a polite but cool smile. ‘I’ll bear that in mind,’ she said, and added with finality, ‘Well, I’d better be going. Someone’s expecting me. Goodbye.’

      ‘Safe journey,’ he called softly after her. ‘Be careful, driving in the dark.’

      She’d be at her mother’s house before long. Tessa turned her head briefly to say so. ‘Oh, I won’t