She didn’t want to be presumptuous. Though she’d happily spend more time with him. “What do you want to do in London?” She put it back on him.

Unexpectedly, he cupped her cheek, raking spread fingers back into her loose hair, pulling her forward for a kiss.

“Kiefer,” she warned in an undertone, as Alec’s lips closed over hers.

“Kiefer knows,” said Alec against her mouth. Then he kissed her deeply. “This is what I want to do in London.”

“For two whole days?”

“Yes.”

“Did Kiefer say…anything?” Charlotte asked carefully.

Alec nodded toward the front of the cabin. “Take a look.”

She twisted her head to see Raine sitting across Kiefer’s lap in the big armchair. They were whispering and giggling together.

“I feel like I’m in high school,” she told Alec.

He agreed with a nod. “But with much better transportation and a platinum card.”

“You’re going to try to spend money on me in London, aren’t you?”

“Try?” he scoffed, cocking his head and giving her a smirk. “I’ve already booked a suite at the Ritz and a box on the Grand Tier at Covent Garden.”

Eight

By the time they made it through London and Paris, Charlotte felt like a spoiled princess. She’d given up arguing with Alec about money. She even gave up trying to pay for her own clothes. He’d simply worn her down.

But now they were back in Provence. One of Alec’s drivers had delivered the Lamborghini to the airport. So they’d stowed the luggage in the limo with Raine and Kiefer and were speeding under the streetlights, top down, along the highway with jazz pouring out of the sound system. She’d dressed casually for the trip, in a new pair of designer jeans and a cropped, peach tank top with flat lace insets.

Alec was a steady, confident driver. And as their speed increased, she kicked off her sandals and tipped her head back, letting the cool wind flow over her skin.

“Almost home,” said Alec, shifting out of Sixth as the turnoff to Château Montcalm came into view.

She tried to formulate the right sentiment. She watched Alec’s profile as the aspen and oak trees flashed by.

“What?” He glanced over.

Straightforward seemed like the best choice. “I had a really great time, Alec.”

He grinned. “Me, too.”

Their gazes caught and held.

“Thank you,” she told him sincerely.

“Anytime,” he breathed, turning his attention back to the road, slowing down further as the château’s driveway loomed.

Charlotte let out a sigh, sliding her feet back into her sandals. As the headlights caught the semitrailers, the scarred lawn and the open-air buffet tables that provided craft services to the crew during the day, she tried to smooth her hair into some sort of order. But she quickly gave up. And when Alec brought the convertible to a halt at the front door, she decided a shower would be first on her list. She might as well get rid of the dust along with the tangles.

Alec swung around to open her door, and Charlotte came to her feet, stretching out her neck and back after the long journey. The film set was quiet as they crossed to the front door, with just a few grips, production assistants and security guards putting things in place for the morning.

Alec pushed open the wide door, and the quiet of the yard disappeared. Chitchat and music wafted out from the great room. Several people laughed, while Lars’s unmistakable voice proposed a toast to Isabella.

Charlotte’s stomach clenched in alarm. The Hudsons wouldn’t, they would not hold a party in Alec’s château while he was away. She cautiously glanced up at him. His mouth was set in a firm line, and before she could even register the anger in his eyes, he was marching toward the archway leading to the great room.

Though Charlotte dreaded what she’d find, she felt compelled to follow along.

“Monsieur Montcalm?” Henri hustled out from the hallway to ambush Alec.

“Not now, Henri,” Alec growled, brushing past.

“But, monsieur.”

“Save it.” Alec kept walking. It was the first time she’d ever heard him utter a sharp word to a member of his staff, certainly not to Henri.

“Madame Lillian Hudson arrived this afternoon.”

Alec didn’t react, but Charlotte certainly did. Lillian was here? Her grandmother had shown up on the set?

“Given her age and illness,” Henri stressed, striding along beside Alec, “I thought it wise to invite her to stay in the château.”

Alec’s steps faltered.

“I was certain, were you here, you would insist,” said Henri, a wealth of meaning in his tone.

“She’s ill?” Alec asked, a muscle twitching near his left eye.

“She has cancer,” Charlotte supplied in a pained voice. They’d done it. Her family had actually thrown a party in Alec’s home.

“I put her in the Bombay room with her son, Markus, next door. The rest of the family is with Jack at the hotel.”

Alec’s nostrils flared as he sucked in a sharp breath.

“I’m so sorry,” Charlotte whispered.

Alec glanced at her, but said nothing.

Henri’s voice went to an undertone. “Dinner tonight is to welcome Lillian to Provence.”

Alec was silent a second longer. But then he gave a sharp nod. “Thank you, Henri.”

Henri nodded in return. “Of course, monsieur.”

Then Alec held out his arm to Charlotte. “Will you introduce me to your family?”

Charlotte’s stomach clenched tighter. Judging by the noise level, the entire family, along with assorted production staff, were in Alec’s great room. She was tired, trail weary, dusty and disheveled. She didn’t want to see the Hudsons or anyone else right now.

But she couldn’t say no to Alec. He’d been extraordinarily patient under some very trying circumstances. So, instead of protesting, she nodded and took his arm. They walked through the archway to the stone-walled, high-ceilinged great room. Its polished hardwood floors, Aubusson rugs and Louis XV furnishings were covered in wall-to-wall Hudsons-Charlotte’s grandmother Lillian, her uncle Markus, her father, David, her brother, Jack, and cousins Dev and Max, and Isabella chatting intimately with Ridley Sinclair.

Jack was the first person to notice Alec. As he came forward, Charlotte quickly disentangled herself from Alec’s arm.

“Alec,” Jack stated heartily, extending his hand. “Great to have you back.”

“Thank you,” Alec intoned, but Charlotte could hear the tension in his voice.

Jack turned. “Everybody, this is Alec Montcalm, our host.”

There was a chorus of greetings and a surge forward that halted when people realized Lillian was making her way to Alec.

Everyone, including Alec, waited as the frail-looking woman approached him.

“Mr. Montcalm,” came Lillian’s steady voice.

Alec took a few steps forward to close the distance.

“Mrs. Hudson,” he nodded, gently taking her hand between his. “A pleasure to meet you at last.”

“My thanks, on behalf of my entire family, for your hospitality.”

“No thanks are necessary,” said Alec. “It is my pleasure.”

No one listening could have guessed at the trials and tribulations Alec had been through with the film so far.

Charlotte’s glance caught Jack’s, and when his gaze slid along her outfit, she remembered her appearance. If only the archway or even the patio door were a little closer, she’d slip out. But the last thing she wanted to do was call attention to herself.

“As you may know,” said Lillian, “this film is near and dear to my heart.”

Alec stood to one side and gestured to Charlotte. “Your granddaughter expressed that quite eloquently.”

Lillian and the entire family turned their attention to Charlotte.

Charlotte’s hand went reflexively to her messy hair. Then she wondered if dust was smudged on her cheeks or if every wrinkle in her clothing was visible under the great room lights.

“Hello, Lillian,” she managed.

“Lovely to see you, dear.” Lillian nodded regally.

“It was Charlotte who convinced me to allow Hudson Pictures to use my château,” Alec continued.

Charlotte could see what Alec was trying to do, and it was admirable. But she could also see he was making Markus uncomfortable. It was his project, and he didn’t seem used to other people taking the spotlight.

Sure enough, Markus stepped forward. “Markus Hudson.” He offered his hand to Alec and shook heartily. “CEO of Hudson Pictures.”

With everyone’s attention on Alec and Markus, Charlotte took a step backward. She was escaping to the shower just as soon as humanly possible. She could always come back for a drink later and say her hellos. Hopefully, by then, her new clothes would have arrived in the limo. They would boost her confidence.

While Alec and Markus talked, she eased carefully backward.

But then Jack appeared by her side. “I hear you were in London,” he opened.

Charlotte gave another hopeless swipe at her hair before answering. “And Rome and Paris.”

Jack nodded, a glance straying to Alec.

“Raine wanted to go shopping,” Charlotte quickly put in. “You met Raine, right? It was mostly her who helped me convince Alec to let you film here. She should be right behind us.” Charlotte glanced toward the hall. “With Kiefer, the vice president of Montcalm.”

“You okay?” Jack wedged in.

“Fine.” Charlotte clamped her mouth shut.

Jack nodded across the room at their father. “You going to say hello?”

“I’m not in a rush.” If she could avoid it, she would. Her emotional state was better if she simply avoided her father altogether.

At the moment, David was working on a martini-no surprise there. He was also watching his brother, Markus, through squinting eyes, his lips pursed in obvious annoyance. She knew the two brothers didn’t get along. She might be out of touch, but that much family gossip had come her way.