Love Story Next Door!: Cinderella on His Doorstep / Mr Right, Next Door! / Soldier on Her Doorstep

Dana hoped it was good and took a first bite. To her surprise it didn’t taste like anything she’d ever eaten before. She took another, but it needed something. Maybe a baguette would help.

Alex had already eaten most of his. “My compliments to the chef. Among your many talents you’re a superb cook, Dana.”

She put her spoon down. “No, I’m not.”

He flashed her a curious glance. “Why do you say that?”

“Because it’s awful. I—I wanted to make you something spectacular,” she stammered. “It’s not.”

“What do you call it?”

“See?” Tears threatened. “Even you don’t know what it is.”

“Isn’t it beef?”

“No.”

“If you’re trying to tell me this is pickled pigs feet, I’m surprised it’s this delicious.”

“Wrong animal.”

One dark brow lifted, giving him a sardonic look. “Cow?”

“No.”

“Horse?”

“No!”

“Frog’s legs?”

She shook her head. “You’ll never guess. I found the recipe in my mother’s French cookbook I brought with me.”

He cocked his head. “Then this could cover anything from brains to innards to tongues.”

“This is more of an ‘end’ thing. The marchand at the boucherie told me it was a great delicacy,” she confessed.

“An end thing…” She could hear his brilliant mind turning over the possibilities.

When nothing was forthcoming she said, “It’s oxtail. How can the French eat it? I think it’s disgusting!”

Chapter Seven (#ulink_b1b445a5-7bd4-50a8-9209-19965db06c46)

ALEX’S explosion of laughter echoed off the limestone walls. It was the deep male kind, so infectious her tears turned to laughter, too.

He reached for her hand and squeezed it. His touch shot warmth through her system. “I’m touched that you went to so much trouble for me.”

“I should have fixed you something I love. Because you’re the kind of man you are, you would never say anything to hurt my feelings, but even I can tell this would have to be an acquired taste. It’s too mild and fatty, a terrible thing to serve a hungry man.”

“Terrible,” he teased. His gaze slid to hers. It was alive with emotion. “Let’s have some wine with it.”

“No—wait—”

Her cry resounded in the room, wiping his sensual smile away. “Why? What’s wrong now?”

“Nothing. It’s just that I bought us a special surprise while I was in town. Since I didn’t think I’d be seeing you before tomorrow evening, I hadn’t planned on producing it yet, but under the circumstances I think now is the perfect time.”

“Do I get to open it?” He looked and sounded like an excited schoolboy waiting to tear away the wrapping on his long-awaited birthday present.

She nodded. “But please be careful.”

In a few swift strides he reached the counter. She got to her feet and moved closer to watch him. The carton encased an old green bottle of wine packed in straw. He drew it out to examine the magenta and cream label. She’d already had the privilege. In fact, she’d stared at it for a long time, hardly able to believe she’d been able to buy anything so precious.

His face paled. “Domaine Belles Fleurs Coteaux-du-Layon Cuvee D’Excellence, 1892, Anjou, France.” As he spoke the words, he sounded like a man who’d gone into shock.

Suddenly his eyes shot to hers. They were on fire. “Where did you get this?” His voice trembled.

“I went to an impeccable source. Madame Fournier was able to put me in touch with Monsieur Honore Dumarre, a wealthy businessman and wine connoisseur living in Angers. He had three bottles of Domaine Belles Fleurs from different vintages in his wine cellar. When I explained why I wanted one, he was gracious enough to sell this to me.”

She could see Alex’s throat working. Even his hand was trembling. “A bottle like this can cost upward of five thousand dollars. Even meeting his full price, he’d have an almost impossible time parting with it.”

Dana smiled. “Once in a while it helps that I’m Jan Lofgren’s daughter. The fact that he’s shooting his latest film on the Belles Fleurs estate went a long way to make up his mind for him. I threw in the fact that the new owner lived on the other side of the world until now and has never tasted his family’s wine before.”

Alex resembled a war victim suffering shell shock. “I have no words for what you’ve done,” he whispered, “but you have to return it and get your money back.”

She took a fortifying breath. “I knew you’d say that, but I did it for the pleasure it gave me. Do you know he wants to meet you? He’ll be phoning you to make the arrangements.”

Alex’s face darkened with lines, revealing the remote quality she sometimes glimpsed, the quality that made her shiver. “Didn’t you hear me, Dana? If you don’t return it, I will.” He’d already taken possession of the bottle and put it back in the carton. It sounded like he hadn’t heard anything else she’d told him.

Her chin lifted defiantly. “That was my gift. It came from my own savings, not the studio’s funds, in case you were worrying.”

“If your father knew about this…”

At the mention of her dad, her anger was kindled. “Do you intend to tell him?” she fired. “Go ahead. But if you think blackmail will make me change my mind, then you don’t know me at all.”

“Dana,” his voice grated. “This isn’t the kind of thing you give someone.”

“Well, pardon me, but I thought I just did. Some friends give cars—jewels—in the profession my father works in, I’ve seen it all. It pleased me to give you something of your mother’s history, the only tangible evidence left of a thriving estate. Where’s the romance in your soul?”

His hands knotted into fists. “We’re talking about your hard-earned money.”

She shrugged her shoulders. “There’s money, and then there’s money. I’ve never had anything I wanted to spend it on before. But I should have remembered that you’re in dire straits and need to get the taxes paid, so I tell you what. You go to Monsieur Dumarre. When you get the money back, you use it to make another installment to the bank so you can get out of here sooner and pursue your career.”

Blind with pain, she grabbed her bag and flew down the long corridor to the foyer. She didn’t need a light upstairs. Dana knew the place blindfolded. The second she reached her room, she threw herself on the bed.

“Dana—”

She might have known he’d be right behind her. Now she couldn’t sob into the pillow. “Come back downstairs so we can talk.”