LITMIR.BIZ

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baguette, no butter, no accompaniments, just the bread. Gabrielle arrived moments later and added more bread and water to the order, along with a decaf skinny latte, no sugar and no cocoa on top.

      ‘Seriously,’ said Simone after the waiter had retreated with their order. ‘Why have one?’

      ‘Habit,’ said Gabrielle with a grin. ‘This pregnancy business is no fun at all when it comes to what you can and can’t eat. No soft cheese, no wine, no coffee, minimal tea, easy on the chocolate. There’s nothing left on my favourites list at all.’

      ‘I hear spinach is good,’ said Simone and chuckled when Gabrielle levelled her with a glance.

      ‘I noticed you took no wine at dinner last night,’ said Gabrielle, thumping her work folder on the table and making the cutlery jump.

      ‘Headache,’ said Simone briefly.

      ‘Or the night before.’

      ‘Two headaches,’ said Simone. ‘Two headaches and an unexpected yen for a teetotal life. Don’t tell my distributors.’

      ‘I hear you’re handing over more of your distribution work to your second in command, not to mention the stuff you’re handing on to me,’ said Gabrielle next.

      ‘If you didn’t want the work you shouldn’t have asked for it,’ said Simone, grateful for the sunglasses that hid her eyes from Gaby’s searching gaze.

      ‘I want it,’ said Gabrielle simply. ‘What does intrigue me these days is that you don’t. You spend every spare moment walking in your gardens or working in them. Luc’s worried about you, Simone, and so am I. If having a pair of newly-weds around you at Caverness is a problem for you, I want you to say something.’

      ‘It’s not a problem.’ Simone smiled and reached out her hand. Gabrielle covered it with hers instantly. ‘I love having you at Caverness. And I love seeing you and Luc so happy.’

      ‘Thank you,’ said Gabrielle with a warm smile. ‘Although it does leave me with this theory that I shared with Luc last night about the possible reason for your current life choices. He thought it a little far-fetched.’ Gabrielle shook her head. ‘Men.’

      The food arrived. Two glasses of water, the joyless coffee, and two half slices of bare bread.

      ‘I rest my case,’ murmured Gabrielle. ‘You’ve lost weight. You’re not eating the things you usually enjoy…’

      ‘I’m dieting,’ murmured Simone.

      ‘Well, you shouldn’t be,’ said Gabrielle bluntly. ‘Not in your condition.’

      Simone picked up her water and sipped.

      Gabrielle sat back, clearly frustrated. ‘You’re going to make me ask who the father is, aren’t you?’

      ‘Not at all,’ Simone murmured.

      ‘So you’ll tell me without prompting?’

      ‘No.’

      ‘I hate this,’ said Gabrielle. ‘I hate being right, and knowing I’m right, and knowing you don’t trust me enough to confide in me.’

      ‘All right.’ Simone took a deep breath and set her glass gently on the table. ‘I’m pregnant.’

      ‘Finally.’ Gabrielle did not look smug. She looked concerned. ‘Have you seen a doctor?’

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘And everything is okay?’

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘And how far along are you?’

      ‘Ten weeks.’

      Gabrielle sighed heavily. ‘God, I hate being right.’

      No more than Simone hated being proved reckless, and thoughtless and stupid. She’d thought her low-dose pills would protect her. They hadn’t.

      ‘You have to tell him,’ said Gabrielle next.

      ‘Tell who?’

      ‘Don’t give me that.’ Gabrielle shot her an icy reprimand. ‘My brother. Rafael. Used to give you head starts in running races and the occasional frog. CEO of Angels Landing Wines. Son of Josien. Son of Harrison. Son of Etienne. Heir to the throne of bloody Maracey. Oh, and father of your unborn child.’

      ‘It’s not Rafe’s fault that he ended up son of Etienne and heir to Maracey,’ Simone felt compelled to utter in his defence. ‘That one came as a complete surprise.’

      ‘And yet, strangely, I still want to strangle him,’ said Gabrielle. ‘Has he contacted you since the wedding?’

      ‘No.’ Simone looked away as her heart constricted. ‘I don’t expect him to. We shared one night, Gabrielle. It meant nothing to him.’

      ‘Well, it produced something,’ said Gabrielle curtly. ‘You have to tell him.’

      ‘Don’t you think he’s had enough responsibilities thrust upon him for the time being?’

      ‘I don’t care what responsibilities he’s had thrust upon him,’ snapped Gabrielle. ‘This responsibility is one he brought upon himself! For heaven’s sake, Simone. Do you want this child to grow up without ever knowing its father? Do you want this baby’s childhood to echo Rafael’s?’

      ‘I love this baby,’ said Simone fiercely. ‘And he will never have a childhood like Rafael’s.’

      Gabrielle slumped back into her seat, tears streaming from her eyes. ‘Bloody hormones,’ she said shakily, wiping them away.

      ‘It’s not the hormones.’

      ‘You’re right. It’s my overprotective friend and my foolish brother who are making me weep.’ Gabrielle picked up her coffee with both hands and sipped. ‘Would you like my opinion? As your friend and as Rafael’s sister?’

      Simone nodded.

      Gabrielle looked troubled. ‘Okay, here it is. I appreciate that Rafael has a lot on his plate right now. I appreciate that you appreciate that, but there’s no way around this, Simone, and it’s not going to get any easier. You have to tell him.’

      ‘I will.’ Simone’s hand shook as she reached for her bread. ‘Soon.’ As soon as she’d gathered the courage for it. ‘But not just yet.’

      Etienne’s vineyard estate was a forbidding stone fortress, built in the Spanish style. Older than Caverness, it cut across the hillside and stood sentry over the valley below. Rafael hadn’t wanted to feel comfortable here. He hadn’t wanted the beauty of the land and the stark splendour of the fortress to get to him, but the undeniable fact was that it had.

      He liked this place.

      Etienne had wanted him to stay at the palace in the capital, but Rafael had resisted taking up residence there. The vineyard Etienne was paying him to oversee the restoration of was here. He didn’t need to stay at the palace. He didn’t want to stay there.

      The papers had been full of pictures of him and Etienne from the moment he’d set foot in Maracey. The resemblance had been unmistakable. A simple palace announcement had taken care of the rest.

      Maracey, please meet Rafael Alexander de Morsay, son of Etienne.

      The press had gone wild.

      Sinner or saint. It depended which paper you read. Apparently, he had the face for either and the background for both.

      Rafael smiled grimly. He’d been here for a month and he’d thrown himself into the work of restoring Etienne’s vines. Occasionally, Etienne would request the pleasure of his company at a state dinner or function. Increasingly, he sat in on political negotiations as part of Etienne’s facilitation team. Rafael had come to enjoy those negotiations more and more. When the days were eighteen hours long

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