Page 45 of Sinful Escape

“It’s damn ugly.” Mike scrunched up his face. “The dogs look like they’re in agony.”

I grinned at Mike. “If you were peeing all day, you would be too.” A few people laughed. The stunning smile Mike flashed at me made my heart skip a beat.

Mike’s hot for you. Roman’s comment from last night slammed into my brain.

No way was that true.

Guys as extraordinary as Mike would never be interested in a woman like me.

The fact that I’d even considered it made me feel foolish. My smile evaporated.

Jesus, Daisy. Get a grip on yourself.

I pointed at the statue towering above the peeing dogs. “This is a statue of Diana, the Roman goddess for hunting. She’s a fitting choice to represent the châteaux medieval, fox-hunting roots. The original fountain was moved to the Louvre in the 1600s. It was only once the replica was in place that they added the hounds and stag heads.”

Trying to calm my inner demons, I led the troops into the building and when I stopped, they assembled around me in a semi-circle. Aware that my voice echoed off the marble tiles, I lowered my volume a few notches. “Wedding and prom-night photographers from all over the world should be thanking the French for this piece of architecture.” I pointed to the horseshoe-shaped staircase that curved in perfect symmetry from the ground floor to the first. “This is reputed to be the first ever curved staircase.”

Continuing through the building, I pointed out one fascinating aspect after another. The varieties of ancient architecture represented the numerous royal members who’d lived here. Each one had wanted to make their mark.

Unfortunately, the abundant art pieces were mostly replicas as the originals were all now safely secured in various museums around the country. The exquisite décor was dominated by rich colors of ruby, emerald, and, of course, gold. As I rattled off dozens of details, my group responded with varying states of interest. Those who were into history were on my tail; those that were on the tour to chase some tail, like Mike and his mates, hovered at the back.

We arrived in the grand ballroom, decorated in masterpieces ranging from a series of frescos framed in richly sculpted stucco to spectacular portraits of some of the royalty who’d resided at the château over the centuries.

“Oh, wow. These are magnificent,” Claudette murmured as she stepped up to one of the frescos.

“Aren’t they incredible?” I agreed. “You’ll note the artist has used mythological scenes to depict the virtues of the king. See here and here?”

Claudette followed my direction. “Oh yes, I see.”

In the center of the room was a long table decorated with regal flamboyance fitting for royalty, except that the gold candelabras and cutlery were replicas, and the crystal glasses were not of any real value.

“All the flowers on the table. . .” I directed the attention of those near me to the stunning flower decorations dotted along the white tablecloth. Bunches of purple pansies. Bright yellow tulips with lush green leaves. Vibrant orchards, rich with pink pigment. Cute hexagonal vases overflowing with hydrangea blooms. And dozens and dozens of ruby-colored long stem roses. “These were all picked from the châteaux flower beds that were originally created in the seventeenth century.”

My group was beginning to spread out around the table. “Okay, listen up. This is where I leave you to enjoy your high tea. Please take a seat. But whatever you do, don’t touch anything that isn’t on this table. Unless you want to wrestle with Bruno.” I nodded at the security guard in the corner who made Dwayne Johnson look like a figurine.

“Enjoy your high tea. I’ll meet you outside once you’re finished.”

As I strode away, their chatter escalated.

Over the next hour, the château staff would offer them enough savory and sweet treats to feed a small nation. When I’d first started this job, I’d indulged in the high tea six times. That was enough. After each of those times, I’d waddled away like a pregnant pig and wallowed in a food coma for a week.

Refusing to even glance at the trays of food coming out, I bolted from the room. Outside, I followed the cobblestone path, making my way toward the majestic horse stable at the back of the château. Most guests weren’t allowed to venture to this part of the estate. But by chance, I’d bumped into the stable master on my tenth visit, and he’d offered to show me around. Now, each time I visited the château, I went to the stable while my passengers ate themselves silly.

Shit. After today, I’d only visit this place five more times.

My stomach shrunk to the size of a walnut at that shot of reality.

Adorning the stable entrance were two life-sized brass horses rearing up on their hind legs. I stepped over the grand threshold, giving my eyes a few seconds to adjust to the filtered light. Scents of hay and horse welcomed me. In keeping with the grand theme, giant mahogany wooden beams lined the vaulted ceiling and walls. Each horse stall was decorated with carved stone arches, and some of the horses had their noses over the doors, peering into the central walkway.

“Bonjour, Luca. C'est Daisy.”

Luca stepped from a stall farther along and his smile cracked through his red beard. For the first time, I noticed how truly handsome he was. Or maybe my newfound awakening was allowing me to see what’d been in front of me all along. “Bonjour, Daisy. Comment allez-vous?

“I’m good, thank you. How about you?”

“Same as usual.” Luca had been the stable master here for as long as I’d been visiting. His riding boots clicked on the terracotta tiles as he walked toward me. His white jeans hugged his narrow hips like he’d been poured into them.

When he neared me, a beam of sunlight piercing through a window high above us shimmered in his crystal blue eyes like it was a sign from God. Though what the sign was had me stumped.

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