Page 2 of Signed, Sealed, Married

He had that feeling, the tingle along his spine and quickening in his gut that he’d learned not to ignore. Not because Gisèle Fontaine’s smile aroused primitive male instincts. But because he sensed this was precisely the opportunity he sought.

Methodically he reread the report, revisiting his earlier assessment.

Then he side-tracked, researching the Fontaine family.

Julien Fontaine, in his early thirties, had managed the company after the death of his grandfather several years ago. Recently Julien had stepped aside, leaving his younger sister Gisèle to act in his stead.

Adam rubbed his unshaven jaw, considering.

He reached for the phone. ‘Lien, I need a meeting organised as soon as possible, and a flight to France.’

CHAPTER ONE

THEYMETNOTat Fontaine headquarters in Paris, but on the French Riviera, closer to the company’s perfume distillery.

Adam unfurled himself from the sports car and gave his keys to a valet, before a grand Belle Epoque hotel. Self-confident in its domed splendour, it occupied a premier location on the famous Promenade des Anglais, looking over Nice’s Bay of Angels. The sun lit its pale façade, a sea breeze made its flags flap and overhead a blue sky enhanced the scene.

It surprised him she’d chosen this place for their lunch meeting.

The hotel was famous and probably sumptuous, but surely an old-fashioned choice for a woman still in her twenties.

She knew his net worth—it regularly featured in rich lists—and must realise it would take more than a famous venue to impress him. Maybe it was familiar ground for her, somewhere her family had come for generations.

Whatever her thinking, all that mattered was that she understood how much her company needed him. Someone with the funds and business savvy to turn around the House of Fontaine.

Adam rolled his shoulders and turned his back to the hotel. On the other side of the road stretched the deep blue, glittering Mediterranean. But the beach below the promenade consisted of rocks, trucked in to make up for the lack of sand. The place was famous, but it didn’t excite someone who’d grown up with golden beaches and the endless Pacific Ocean.

He turned back. The hotel possibly had a certain charm but he preferred the less grandiose style of the villa he’d rented along the coast.

Is that what had happened with Fontaine’s? Had it stultified under the control of a family that lived in the past instead of looking to the future?

It was time for change and he was the man to see to it.

Besides, the House of Fontaine had something he wanted.

‘Just do the best you can, Gigi. If necessary, stall him and call me.’

Gisèle heard the strain in Julien’s voice and wished she could reassure him. But there was nothing either of them could do. There were no cards left to play. No lucrative avenues that would turn a quick profit and save the company from insolvency. They, and their financial team, had been over the books too often for any doubt.

‘You can rely on me.’ Which didn’t amount to much. Even if she were in a position to negotiate, she was a scientist by training, more at home in the lab or perfume distillery than wrangling deals with tycoons. ‘I’ll do my best.’

‘I know. It’s unfair to put you in this position where you’re out of your depth. Maybe I should—’

‘Nonsense!’ Gisèle looked around the restaurant, glad her table was a discreet distance from the others. The grand room brought back reassuring memories of special lunches here with Grandpère. She lowered her voice. ‘Nothing is more important than you finishing your treatment. Not even the business.’

There was silence for a moment. ‘I feel so guilty at losing it after it was handed down—’

‘I know, I know. From father to son through generations.’

Although their father had never run the House of Fontaine. He’d worked for it but died young. Julien had inherited it from their grandfather and Gisèle was employed there too. The company wasn’t just a business. It was a thread running through the lives of every Fontaine for two centuries. It and their employees were like family.

‘To lose it undermywatch, because I wasn’t up to the job—’

‘That’s not true. You were sick. It was natural for you to delegate.’

Unfortunately those he’d delegated to weren’t as clever as they thought, taking too many risks that hadn’t paid off. The company had embarked on an ill-conceived expansion just as economies around the world teetered on the brink of apparent collapse and sales of luxury goods plummeted.

Guilt bit. She’d been no help, absorbed in her own work, and the extra public responsibilities in Julien’s absence, but without the skills to manage the company.

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