Page 201 of Boss of the Year

The combination was undeniably attractive.

“I’m surprised you wanted another job that forced you to wake up like this,” he said as he followed me into the kitchen. “I would have thought you’d be finished with early mornings.”

I frowned. “I never minded the early mornings. It was the late-night ordeals that got me in the end.”

The mild friendliness on his face shuttered. “So they did.”

We stared at each other for a moment.

“Marie—”

“I have to get started,” I said. Apparently, I wasn’t quite done avoiding things. “I told you, we can talk after breakfast.”

I could feel Lucas glowering from the other side of the room as I marched around the island. Part of me wished he would shout at me to stop, or just say whatever it was he wanted to say. Do whatever he came here to do instead of studying me and waiting to determine how he should respond.

But he didn’t.

And honestly, maybe his lack of action was part of the problem here.

Maybe if Lucas actually said what he really thought, was honest about what he wanted, acted a little more on instinct instead of improvising so much based on others’ thoughts and feelings, we wouldn’t be in this situation to begin with.

“Like that would ever happen,” I muttered as I went to examine the pastries where they had been safely covered with flour sacks overnight. “Oh,shit.”

“What’s wrong?”

“The viennoiseries haven’t risen.”

“The what?”

“Pastries,” I snapped. “They won’t be ready in time to bake for breakfast. Damn it. It must have been too cold last night.”

“Is there anything I can do?” Lucas looked completely helpless, like he knew there was absolutelynothinghe could do to manipulate a tempestuous leaven into doing what he wanted.

“Not unless you have a magic wand.” I put the flour sacks back over the pastries. “I’ll have to run to the bakery in town. Camille and Georges will be up, if they ever went to sleep last night. If anyone gets up early, tell them I’ll be back in a few with croissants and bread.”

I swept around him and back out to the front hall, only realizing he was still following me when I grabbed my vintage Barbour jacket off the coat rack.

Lucas followed suit with his own coat.

I paused. “What are you doing?”

“Coming with you.” He answered like going with me was the most normal thing in the world.

“That’s really not necessary,” I said as I put on my coat. “It’s just a short walk from here, and I won’t need much to feed four people.”

I left before he could respond, stepping into the crisp, surprisingly bright morning air. The light of a pending sunrise was seeping through the barren trees, touching the earth and frost-tipped boughs with warmth. Tourists flocked to this part of France in the summer for the sunflowers, castles, and hot weather. I found I preferred the area at this time of year, when the fluctuations of the weather created a new story daily for anyone willing to stay still and watch.

I strode through the south end of the property, planning to take a trail along the river that cut up to the village.

I made it perhaps fifty feet toward the water before I heard footsteps behind me.

“Marie, stop.”

I kept walking, my boots crunching over fallen leaves. “Go back to the chateau, Lucas. I’ll be back in an hour.”

“Not until we talk.”

“There’s nothing to talk about right now.”