“Never knew him. He died long before I was born, when my mother was still young. He was a prisoner for a time during the war. His health suffered afterward.”

“And your grandmother never remarried?”

“Nope.” She put her hands on her hips. “‘You only meet the love of your life once,’ she said to me on the rare occasions when I asked. ‘And if you’re fool enough not to recognize that sort of love and treasure it for what it will become, then you never deserved it in the first place.’”

“That sounds tragically romantic.”

Lia inclined her head. “Dramatic, at any rate.” She gestured out toward the sea. “This is breathtaking. If I had to get married, I’d get married here.”

“If you had to? I didn’t take you for another romantic, Mademoiselle Leclaire.”

She arched a brow and glanced at him. “Is that sarcasm I detect?”

“You make the institution of marriage sound like an incarceration.”

“Have you been?”

“Incarcerated or married?”

She laughed. “Either.”

“No. And no.”

“Engaged?”

“No.”

“Ever been tempted?”

The leaf tore between his fingers.

“Sorry. That was a personal question and none of my business.”

“No, it’s all right,” Gabriel replied. “The truth of the matter is that my work has always been a priority.”

“Now that I can completely understand,” she said, “and endorse. Though I suspect you get far fewer well-meaning admonishments about your ticking biological clock than I do.”

“Jesus.” He tossed the shredded leaf away. “I’m sorry. People can be utter prats.”

She gave one of her very French shrugs. “I ignore them. Not worth my time or energy.”

“Have you? Ever been tempted?” He had no idea why he was asking this, other than that she had asked him first.

“No. I’ve never stayed in one place long enough for a serious relationship.”

“Would you?”

“Would I what?”

“Stay. Would you stay if you met the love of your life? If you recognized what it might become, like your grandmère said?” He was veering into dangerous territory here, places he had no business going with Lia—a client. Yet for some reason, he wanted to know what Lia the woman would say.

Her hands dropped from her hips. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

He met her eyes, his mouth suddenly dry. He stepped back. “Come,” he said, hoping his voice sounded smoother than it felt. “Let’s go inside, and I’ll introduce you to my grandfather.” He took another step back for good measure. “He may ask you a million questions about your job and where you’ve travelled but I can guarantee that he will not inquire about your biological clock.”

Lia laughed, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Lead the way.”