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“I honestly don’t have a clue. That’s what makes this such a risk. There’s extensive damage on the second floor. And that’s what’s obvious. There’s just no way of knowing an accurate cost until we get someone in there. Then there are the furnishings, textiles, and amenities.”

“Do you have a number for those?”

“Well…” I hedged. “I created several levels. A budget reno, a middle level, and a dream level.”

“How much for the dream level?” he asked.

“If I had to guess…” I blew out a breath. “And bearing in mind that this could change based on whatever issues we find with the interior…twenty million,” I finally said, knowing he wouldn’t let it go.

It was a pie-in-the-sky dream renovation that would restore the château to her glory and modernize it for guests. It also, hopefully, gave me some padding in case something unexpected came up. Which, at the château, it always did. But the number made me sick to my stomach.

“How many rooms does it have?”

“Forty-five,” I said. “Though not all of them will be guest rooms.”

He let out a low whistle. “Quite expensive for a boutique hotel.”

“It’s worth it,” I said, trying not to sound too defensive. “I’ve done the market research. I’ve done the math. As long as I can get it up and running quickly, the investment will pay off. The location is great for a weekend getaway or a longer stay. It’s nestled outside this small village in the Loire Valley about two hours from Paris, and it’s idyllic. Perfect for weddings. And the type of clientele who will be attracted to it won’t bat an eye at the cost-per-night.”

An emotion passed through his eyes, something I couldn’t name. Something like pride. Admiration. Respect.

Or maybe that’s just what I wanted to see.

I broke eye contact, dropping my head. It was something I’d been guilty of in the past. Believing what I wanted about a situation with my family. With guys I’d dated. Imagining that their feelings were stronger than they were. That things were more serious.

I was done with that. Auntie Jackie had always said that people showed you who they were through their actions, not their words. She’d always shown me her love and support, as had Jo. The rest of my family, not so much.

“And what’s the projected timeline until completion?”

I was surprised that he was so interested in my project, though I supposed I shouldn’t have been. Graham loved the development phase.

“At this point, completely unknown.” Despite the fact that I’d worked my ass off for the past year. That I’d invested my blood, sweat, tears, and my entire inheritance, plus most of my life savings, into the building, and I might never recoup it. My stomach churned. “Mostly because I don’t have the necessary funds.”

“I assume you’ve reached out to lenders?”

“Yes, but no one wants to take on the risk.”

“Mm.” He rubbed a hand over his jaw. “It is one hell of a risk. What made you decide to take on such an enormous project?”

“Owning a boutique hotel has always been a dream of mine. It’s why I got my degree in hospitality, why I worked for you, why I started my blog.” I could feel my skin growing warm, but I kept talking, my words coming faster. “I know I’m young. I know I’m in over my head. But I’d rather risk everything than always wonder…what if?”

I recognized his expression as his deep-thinking mode. He was contemplating something, so I remained quiet, giving him the space to work out whatever it was. I knew Graham needed time to process his thoughts. He was conscious of his words and the way he wielded them. So I sipped my whiskey and curled into my robe.

Graham turned to me. “I could do it. I could take on the cost of the restoration.”

My jaw dropped. Surely I’d misheard him. I’d assumed he was asking questions because he was curious. Not because he was considering investing. Or maybe he wasn’t interested in investing. Maybe he wanted to acquire it.

“I appreciate the offer.” More than he could ever know. “But I don’t want to sell the château. I don’t want the Huxley brand to take it over.”

“I figured as much. And I wouldn’t want you to relinquish it.”

I frowned. “Then what do you want?”

There was no way Graham—or anyone in their right mind—would give up that kind of money without expecting something in return.

“Marry me.”

“What?” I choked on my drink. “Are you okay?” Maybe I needed to call the resort doctor for him.