Sarah Adams peered through a window of the baby blue jet as it broke through the clouds and descended over miles of vineyards tucked between the rocky hills of the Loire Valley. Their descent took them directly over an immense chateau as the little jet made a sweeping, low-level turn and circled down to a private airstrip surrounded by acres of forest.
Sarah continued watching as the plane rumbled across the tarmac and stopped next to a long, dark blue Mercedes limousine. Turning to the short man sitting across from her, she saw that he was staring directly at her with an unwavering gaze. Returning his unconcealed stare, she waited for him to say something, but he remained silent. This guy’s kind of creepy. “Are we in Italy?”
Emilio stood and retrieved his briefcase. “No, my dear. We’re in France.”
“France? I thought you said we were going to the Vatican.”
“Just a brief stopover. Unfortunately, one of our engines seems to have a slight problem, so we were forced to land here until they can repair it.”
Emilio immediately noticed the first signs of doubt beginning to cross Sarah’s face.
“I can assure you that there is no cause for alarm. A close friend of mine owns a beautiful chateau nearby. As you can see, he’s already sent a car for us. The pilots have informed me that we will be here overnight, so my friend has instructed his staff to prepare a lovely room for you. I’ve been told that their new chef is one of the best in all of France, so you’ll be able to enjoy a nice dinner and finally get some uninterrupted rest. Our plane should be ready in the morning for our flight to Rome.”
“Dinner at a French chateau?” Maybe this guy wasn’t so creepy after all. “That actually sounds pretty good right now. All I’ve had for the past week is hospital food, and I threw most of it in the trash can. It’s totally inedible. You would think they would feed their patients food that was nutritious and tasted good … like in a restaurant … something to stimulate your appetite and help you get well, but it just makes you feel worse.”
She saw that the man continued to study her in icy silence. He was obviously not interested in making small talk about hospital food. Sarah decided to probe him with another question.
“Must be nice to have rich friends who own the kind of place where you can just drop in on them at a moment’s notice in your private jet.”
“Yes, such things do seem to make life a little easier.”
This guy was a block of ice.
The two descended the aircraft stairs and entered the back of the limo. After a short drive along a narrow road shaded beneath a canopy of trees, the long car pulled up to the main entrance. Staring up at the front of an enormous French chateau that had remained virtually unchanged since it was constructed in the 16th century, Sarah noticed that its thick stone walls had taken on a golden hue from the slanted rays of the setting sun. Stepping from the car, she was wondering how many sunsets this Renaissance structure had seen over the years when the bark of a large dog startled her. Glancing to her right, she saw a man in a dark suit restraining a massive black dog at the end of a leash.
Sarah’s fear of large dogs caused her to wince as she stepped to the side and followed Emilio up the worn stone steps into the chateau’s grand foyer. Standing just inside the door, she instantly spotted a handsome, dark-haired man with eyes that seemed almost black. His appearance was striking.
Walking toward her, he carried himself with the assurance of someone who was used to getting his way, and an air of power seemed to radiate all around him. Bowing from the waist, he took her hand and bent to kiss it in the manner of a patrician gentleman, all the while watching her response, his dark eyes narrowing in an expression she had seen before on men’s faces-men she had quickly turned down when they had asked her out on a date.
“Good evening, Miss Adams. My name is Rene Acerbi. Welcome to my humble home.”
Before she could utter a reply, a shiver ran down her spine.