Page 10 of Falling for Provence

Because she’d never be able to hold her own baby again.

She couldn’t move.

Couldn’t think.

Where had this child come from? Where was his mother?

Worse… was he even real, or had her mind somehow conjured up a waking fantasy? Or, perhaps, a nightmare? Aye… the sound that now tore the quiet evening apart definitely pushed it into nightmare territory.

‘Hé!’ The raw bark of sound was startling enough to make her flinch.‘C’est quoi ce merdier? Qu’est-ce que vous foutez?’

The voice was male. And furious. A figure was striding through the olive grove, right past the donkeys as if this man had no fear whatsoever of the large animals.

Tall. Dark. Fierce. With a look on his face that made Ellie step back a pace. She heard the crunch of glass under her foot as she stepped on the wine glass she had dropped but there was something much louder happening inside her head.

Words that couldn’t be ignored.

He knew…

Somehow, he knew that she shouldn’t be allowed to hold this child. That she couldn’t be trusted to protect him because she hadn’t been able to protect her own.

No. That was a daft thought, and Ellie needed to cling to reality in what was already an overwhelming situation. This man had never seen her before. He knew nothing about her. They didn’t even speak the same language. He was still shouting at her. In French.

‘I don’t understand,’ she said desperately. ‘Who are you?’

He stopped, just on the other side of the fence, and glared at her. His mouth opened, closed, and then opened again.

‘You’reEnglish?’ He made it sound like the ultimate insult, much the same way that the bicycle delivery man had managed to do.

‘Erm… Scottish, actually.’ Was it possible this tension could be diffused by tapping into centuries worth of rivalry and animosity between Scotland and England?

He ignored her. ‘What are you doing with my son?’ The French accent was stronger than Noah’s had been, but his words were perfectly clear. ‘Give him to me at once.’

It was such a relief to hear someone speak her own language that Ellie smiled at him, despite his obvious fury.

‘He’s your son? Oh, thank goodness. I had no idea how I was going to find out where he belonged.’ She knew she was babbling as she stepped closer to the fence. It wasn’t just relief at being able to communicate, she was being absolved of having to make decisions when her brain had been totally fried by the shock of what had just happened. ‘I just found him… asleep. Right beside those donkeys… At least I think he was only asleep…’

Strong arms were wrenching the child from her arms.

‘Theo?’

The little boy woke up again. And stared up at his father. ‘Papa…’

A stream of incomprehensible French followed, but it was clear that this man was checking to see if his son was uninjured. Ellie could sense the intensity of the scrutiny being given. She could still feel his anger but, curiously, it was at complete odds with how gentle his hands were as he ran them over the small, chubby limbs right down to each little finger and toe.

He looked very different to the sort of men Ellie was used to seeing. His features were clearer somehow. More defined. Especially that nose. He looked… French but had neither the groomed, sophisticated elegance so often associated with both French men and women nor the kind of rock star, scruffy chic that Noah portrayed. This man was a craggier version of the sophisticated end of the spectrum. A bit more tousled and casual but still with that indefinable sense of style. In the very short amount of time she’d been with him, Ellie had also detected an even stronger whiff of something like aloofness, or even arrogance, that told her she was intruding into a world where she definitely wasn’t welcome.

Ellie was uncomfortably aware that she must look a right mess with the corkscrew curls of her hair escaping her braid, and her filthy clothes. Good grief… she probably smelt awful, too. She edged back as she heard from the man the expulsion of a breath that was redolent with relief, and she knew exactly how he must be feeling. She was about to ask whether everything was all right and express her own relief when the stranger simply wrapped his arms around his son and turned away. After two paces, however, he turned back.

‘Fix your fences,’ he snapped. ‘They are unacceptable.’

Ellie’s jaw dropped. He was blaming her for his son having been in danger when she had risked her own life to rescue him? Where the hell hadhebeen?

‘He wasn’t on my property,’ she told him defensively. ‘He was where you are now.’ Within touching distance of those donkeys, but, again, he didn’t seem to even notice them.

He was still glaring at her. ‘You are the new owner of that house?’

‘Erm… yes… I just moved in today.’

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