Was I finished? I nodded and studied his face for a clue into how much I’d just offended or upset him.

He looked thoughtful. “I have made a mistake in not taking Arriette’s things from the boat. Last summer, it was … it was the first time Dauphine and I had come to the boat without her maman. We did not stay too long. It was difficult. I should have done it before now. But I got busy. And then I worried perhaps I should wait until Dauphine wants to look and see what she wants to keep. But she seems so young for such a difficult task. And so, I waited. Or perhaps I avoided it. I did not expect to have someone … to bring … a lover here.” He swallowed heavily, his tone had grown thick.

“Then you should wait.”

“I’ve waited long enough. I spoke to Dauphine last week about it. I’ll be moving Arriette’s things—”

“I’m sorry.” I laid a hand on his forearm and squeezed gently. “You don’t need to share this. Or explain anything. You don’t owe me that.”

He took a long breath. “Perhaps we can talk about it later?”

“If you want.”

“Thank you.” He gazed at me then leaned forward, pressing his lips to mine in a brief, soft kiss. “Perhaps you should come with me today.”

I bit my lip. “To your meeting?”

“Why not?”

“I—I don’t know.”

“Come. You will like where I’m going. It was rebuilt in the eighteen hundreds on a fifteenth century foundation. And it’s not open to the general public.”

“Mmmm,” I moaned in pleasure. “You really know a lot about seduction, don’t you?”

He burst into a warm laugh. “Is that why I finally have you? Because I promised you history and architecture?” he teased. “I should have figured that out sooner. Come. Let’s get you downstairs so you can get ready.”

“A church?” I exclaimed. “You never did tell me exactly what it is you do. Who are you meeting with? Do you have business with God himself?” We’d wound up the mountain in a taxi, past the ancient citadel walls we saw from the boat, and through some rocky scrubland until we came to a chapel perched on a hill. A small sign told me it was called Notre Dame de la Serra. It was cream stucco and framed on a rocky hilltop with more stunning mountains around it.

He smiled, amused.

We climbed out of the taxi and walked through a small gate in a stone wall.

“Here she is now,” he said, looking past me across the small limestone cloistered courtyard. “Soeur Maria,” he greeted a tiny nun hurrying toward us.

Her lined face lit up with an excited smile. She was adorable.

“She doesn’t speak English, I apologize,” he said quietly to me.

“Oh. That’s okay. You’re meeting with a nun?”