Snow drifted down and Cassidy shivered, regretting her loose button down shirt meant to slip off easily without ruining her hair or makeup when she donned her wedding gown. She’d trade every pearl in her hair for a pair of jeans and boots.

In the distance, she saw the orange red flickers of flames lit in organized rows. Fire meant heat, even just a little, so she turned into a field. The dampness of the grass soaked her tennis shoes. As she drew closer she noticed there were grapes on the vines.

A vineyard? She hugged her chest and prayed the house or some form of shelter was nearby.

It was dark already in the countryside though the sun had just gone down. She heard workers in the fields, but no one was close enough to see. She called out, “Help,” as she ran down the line—nobody answered. Finally, at the end of a long row of grapevines, she saw a simple white wooden house with lights on inside and one on the porch. She banged on the blue wooden door. “Please let me in. It’s cold.”

She heard the door unlock and shuffled her feet to stay warm—then a man with kind brown eyes opened the door wide. “Who are you, mademoiselle?”

Her teeth chattered as she focused on the fireplace behind him. “I’m Cassidy Bright. I’m really cold and I need help. I was kidnapped from my wedding and escaped the crazy woman who wanted to marry my fiancé.” Her teeth clacked together hard. “I need a place to be warm while Lord Sky comes from Avce to get me.”

“That’s a lot of information. Your lips are blue!” He motioned for her to come in and she inched her way toward the warmth of the fire as he said, “We’ve been up lighting fires to keep the grapes warm. I was putting my mother to bed as she took sleeping pills or I’d still be outside with my men tending the grapes.”

The fires had saved her from shivering to death while she waited for Remy. At least he was coming, but here she’d wait in warmth. Her teeth stopped chattering. “It’s how I found you.”

“What can I do for you?” He glanced down at her. “Other than offer you warm clothes. It’s cold out there.”

The man was sweet. She nodded. “Thank you so much. Can I use your phone? Mine died and I need tell my fiancé where I am. I’ll get out of your way and wait near one of your fires until he gets here.”

He motioned toward the table that still had platters of food. Chicken, and a bowl of green salad. “Yes, of course, call! Please share our dinner while you wait.”

Her face heated. Remy said he was close. She hugged her waist. “I don’t want to impose.”

“I insist.” He pulled out a chair for her.

Whoever he was, he was a gentleman—handsome in a light blue shirt and dark jeans. She took the seat and he walked into the other room.

The food smelled warm and inviting. The chicken was cooked with lemon butter and her mouth watered. The last thing she really ate was last night at the wedding reception. This morning she’d had water and finger foods she didn’t remember as she’d been so rushed to get her hair done.

The man returned and offered her a jacket, sweat pants and a sweatshirt. She stood and accepted. “Thank you.”

“Let me understand,” he pointed toward a bathroom where she could change. “You were in a car accident on the highway? And that’s when you escaped the crazy woman?”

Her heart stopped. How had he known about the accident? She hadn’t said anything. “Yes, how did you know?”

He shrugged and pointed to her chafed legs and wet sneakers. “How else did you get here on foot?” Snapping his fingers, he murmured, “I’ll get you a warm pair of socks.”

He walked away, and she went to the bathroom to put the dry clothes on over her thin men’s shirt. As she came out he handed her warm, thermal socks. She slipped them on and her toes began to thaw.

“Your fiancé is a lucky man, mademoiselle, for you to have gotten free. My mother already went to bed, or you’d have met her. I’m Alexandre Travers. And I’d like to welcome to our vineyard.”

“Travers?” She repeated the name as her eyes widened. This was Chelsea’s true love? Seriously? This guy was too kind for her sister.

He stared at her blankly. “Yes, have you heard of us?”

Again, she felt her cheeks were hot. She couldn’t tell him about her computer program that had chosen his name for her sister. She looked down at her borrowed thick, green socks and nodded. “Possibly, or at least your wine, Luegrille Piquant.”

“Oui?” He looked at her with renewed interest. “We just rebranded two years ago, and the locals still call us Travers Vineyard.”

Drat. Cassidy squashed the guilt rising for researching him to send Chelsea toward happiness. In order to follow through with what she’d started, she pointed to his wine rack. “Yes. May I have a try?”

He walked over to a cupboard and found a glass and an open bottle. He poured her a red and handed her the glass. She took a sip, which was surprisingly sweet and light. “I like it.”

A crashing sound came from outside. He turned with concern. “There will be no wine this year if we don’t keep the crops alive. Someone else is coming through the vineyard.”

“Wait. Is there a back door?” She put the glass down and searched for her tennis shoes drying before the fireplace. “And if it’s a blonde woman, please give me warning. Be careful.”

“Why?” He walked her to the other side of the house and a door that opened to a patio.

She swallowed her fear and said, “As I said in my ramble earlier, I was kidnapped, monsieur, on my wedding day. Lucinda poisoned me. All I want to do is go home to my fiancé.”

He showed her the door. “Wait inside until we know.”

“Thank you.” She followed him into the kitchen, but kept her distance and hid behind the cupboard. Alexandre opened the front door and she saw the blonde, blue-eyed Lucinda say hello.

The supermodel wore a pair of jeans and had donned a winter jacket. Blood stained her forehead but didn’t detract from her looks.

The floorboard underneath Cassidy’s feet creaked as she shuffled to get closer to the door in case she needed to run. Lucinda and Alexandre turned toward her. She froze on the spot, unable to move. And if she ran, where would she go? Remy would be here soon. Remy’s face was clear in her mind, so she stepped forward instead. “You’re still bleeding Lucinda.”

Lucinda’s hard expression showed her displeasure at having to chase her across the vineyard. She reached behind her back. “You left me to die.”

Thankfully she’d explained to Alexandre already. Cassidy’s hand went to her hip though a cold tremble raced up her spine, urging her to run. “You had me handcuffed, drugged me and stopped my wedding.”

“No, I didn’t.” Lucinda countered as if they were five-year-olds arguing semantics.

Cassidy walked closer to the door, her eyes on Lucinda for any sudden moves. “Yeah, you did.”

“I heard on the car radio that you married Remy anyhow. They had a proxy stand up for you.” Lucinda shook her head like she’d lost the battle and now hated Cassidy even more.

Proxy? Who? All that paperwork she’d signed had included century-old documents for aristocratic weddings that once included proxies though that law was medieval; no one in the twenty-first century had ever used a stand-in. She pushed her hair behind her ears out of habit, forgetting that most of her hair was in pins on the top of her head. She dropped her hands, oddly disappointed. “Impossible.”

Lucinda stepped inside the door next to Alexandre, the glimmer of black in her hand a gun.

Cassidy hurried across the kitchen to the backdoor, ready to bolt as she touched the handle. “Run!”

Instead, Alexandre reached for the weapon. “Put away the gun, mademoiselle.”

Thunder echoed across the room.

“No!”

Alexandre fell and blood rushed against his light blue shirt. She couldn’t leave. Not now. Cassidy ran forward and pressed against the wound—the bullet was between his shoulder and chest. “You shot him.”

The gun fell onto the floor as Lucinda covered her lips. “I didn’t want to shoot anyone on purpose. He scared me when he reached for it to take it from me.”

An accident? Cassidy wasn’t sure, but it didn’t matter—she had to stop the bleeding. In the TV shows, they usually pressed something clean against the wound and called 911. She rushed into his kitchen and found a towel. She pressed it against his chest and reached for the cell phone and dialed. “Lucinda, if you truly want to kill me, just do it. I can’t let this man die.”

Lucinda dropped to her knees beside her and picked up the gun again. “Why not? You don’t know him.”

Because she wasn’t a murderer, for one. Cassidy’s heart raced. “He tried to help me. Now either shoot me and get this over with or put the gun down and help me get him help.”

“You’re not a doctor.” Lucinda put the gun down and opened the door like she’d run.

“It’s freezing out there and the police will catch you, easy.” Cassidy said to her back as Lucinda began to leave. “You might as well wait inside where it is warm.”

With an exhale, Lucinda turned around and walked toward the wine glass. She took a swig and brought the bottle over to Cassidy. “Fine, but this doesn’t make us friends.”

“Kidnapping me proved that.” Cassidy unbuttoned the man’s shirt to see where he was shot exactly. “What was your plan anyhow?”

“I was going to drop you off in Paris where I had some friends to watch you for a month. Then once Remy married me, you’d be set free.”

“I’d have called the police on you first chance. This doesn’t sound well planned.”

“I couldn’t let Remy marry an ugly duckling like you. Not when we made such a perfect couple.”

Not very logical. If Cassidy intended to perform a crime, she’d at least have a fully fleshed out plan. She kept that thought to herself.

Lucinda stood and stared out the window. “Is that a car?”

Cassidy put the phone on the floor. The wound was in the fleshy part near the shoulder. Hopefully he’d live through this fine. She couldn’t let anything happen to Chelsea’s true love!

The lights of the car driving toward the house grew brighter. Cassidy’s skin warmed as if Remy was already beside her and holding her again. She pressed a dishtowel into the wound and said, “It’s Remy. It has to be.”

“You stole my phone.” Lucinda scooped it off the floor and pouted like that was the extent of her worries.

Clearly Lucinda wasn’t the brightest bulb in the pack, but Cassidy never blinked. “Yep. You can have it back.”

The door flew open and Marco Aussa grabbed Lucinda’s arms as she shouted, “Get away from me.”

“Cassidy, you’re okay!” Remy hurried past the prince and into the living room. Cassidy looked up and watched Prince Marco cuff her kidnapper with hands behind her back.

Lucinda had cuffed Cassidy in the front of her body, which had allowed her use of her hands so she was able to steal Lucinda’s phone. It proved her point that looks weren’t everything.

Cassidy could breathe as she stared into Remington’s familiar warm brown orbs. He’d come for her as he’d promised. She pressed again on the injury to stop the bleeding. “This man was shot protecting me. We need to get him to a hospital.”

“Let’s put him in the backseat and drive him to the hospital,” Marco said. “Cassidy’s doing a good job as nurse, but the hospital is less than a kilometer away.”

She nodded and turned toward one of her bosses at the palace. “Your Highness, I wasn’t expecting you. Thank you.”

He nodded. “I’ve already alerted the authorities that I have Lucinda in custody. They can meet us at the hospital.” Marco dragged Lucinda out of the house and out of sight.

Cassidy turned toward Remy and let his presence rush through her. She stood and shuffled closer. “I want to go home.”

“We’ll be back in Avce soon enough. But first let’s treat your hero.” Remy’s voice soothed her like warm honey in strong tea on this cold night.

She placed her hand on his back. “Remy, I’m grateful that I have you as my hero too.”

Remy, still in his tux, rubbed her back and neither said anything else until Marco returned. He lifted the Frenchman’s head and Remy had his feet to carry him to the waiting car.

Cassidy followed behind them, closing the blue door.

“Here, let me handle the Frenchman,” Marco said. “I’m trained in some EMT practices. You go speak to your wife. I’m sure she has questions.”

Her heart stopped, but she walked next to Remy, not far from the limo as the prince adjusted the Frenchman, still out cold, flat in the backseat. “Is what Lucinda said true? Are we married?”

Remy’s lips pressed together which was always his way of not admitting to something, but he wrapped his arms around her waist. “Yes, your mother stood in for you.”

It felt like her heart fell into her heels and she couldn’t walk. She couldn’t move, but couldn’t push him away either. She let out a sigh. “I always knew this was a business deal.”

His hands around her waist tightened. “Cassidy?”

“Yeah?” She shouldn’t have bothered with the trouble of any wedding—of hoping. This was her own mistake.

He pulled her close. “I want to kiss you.”

The tingle in her lips was immediate. She closed her eyes, held her head high, and accepted his kiss.

She melted right away. Remy was perfection. It wasn’t fair that his lips burned her soul and she physically craved more of him.

Without warning, Remy ended the kiss and let her go, though she’d felt the bulge between his legs. “There, now do you guess?”

Sex wasn’t on the menu right now, but she accepted a hug and that kiss. “Remy, I’m grateful you came for me. All I wanted was for you to hold me.”

“I’ll do far more than hold you, after you get checked out at the hospital.” He spoke softly into her ear. “Far more.”

“What?” She’d always known Remy had sex with his girlfriends throughout the years but right now, as he held her hand, she wasn’t ready to fall into that relationship. Her heart still ached that he wasn’t in love with her and that her love was one-sided.

They walked together toward the limo. “You were in a car accident too. It’s best to see a doctor.”

“I feel fine.” She took some solace in his care for her, even if it wasn’t love.

He held her car door open for her. “What if there was a concussion? I don’t want my wife hurt in any way.”

She took the passenger seat in the front as Alexandre took half the room on the bench seat. Lucinda was between the driver who acted like a nurse and Prince Marco. So Remy drove the limo to the hospital. She’d have to accept that she’d married Remy, just as she said she would. Love was never in the equation. She’d known that but her heart needed to accept the truth she saw so clearly now.