The next morning dawned with sunlight streaming against Grace's eyelids. For a moment she was disorientated, blinking at her surroundings and wondering what it was about this morning that felt so different from all the others.

Staring up at the pale cream ceiling, Grace smiled slightly as she realized it was due to two things. One, this was the first time in many weeks that she had slept the entire night through. The strangely effervescent feeling in her body was simply the return of strength because she had finally given herself the proper rest she needed. Secondly, she wasn't in Minnesota. She was in Wales...with Duval

Throwing back the pale rose sheets decorated with pretty little ivory flowers, Grace swung her feet over the edge of the bed and hopped down. The clock on the antique wood stand next to the bed announced that is was already almost noon. It was hard to believe that she had actually slept right through the morning. But she couldn't feel bad about being such a slug when she was feeling so great.

Humming a little, Grace walked over to her bathroom. A five minute shower and two minutes of blow-drying her hair before throwing on a casual blue t-shirt with a faded pair of jeans was all it took to get ready.

Grace looked at herself in the mirror and what she saw gave her some confidence that had been missing the night before. Although she was no knock-out, she looked quite presentable.

Coming out of her room, she almost ran into Adrian who was slumped moodily against the wall of the wide hallway.

His hair had been long enough to brush his shoulders the day before, now it was trimmed short in thick coal black waves that brought out the beautiful bone structure of his face. Eyes following her gaze, he reached up a hand and tugged on the shorter locks with a slight grimace.

"Jack thought my long hair wasn't appropriate for my age. He chopped it last night when I was too drunk to stop him."

"He's a skilled barber." She said, scooting around him to get a better look. "It looks good actually."

"You think?"

His wolfish eyes followed her from beneath half-lowered lids. A thick ceramic mug of something that smelled faintly of black coffee was clasped between his hands.

"Grace?"

"Yes?" She stepped back and peered curiously at him.

Although the sunlight streamed through the windows in abundance, Adrian had found himself a small patch of shadow to rest upon. His brilliant blue eyes seemed to glow as he observed her small form from head to toe.

Grace shifted a bit and frowned at him, suddenly uncomfortable. Why was he looking at her like that?

Because she had found him to be oddly comforting to be around and easy to talk with on the way down to Castle La Mer; she had begun to think of Adrian as almost a friend. She didn't like the veiled look in his eyes.

"Can you smell this?" He asked innocently.

Huh?

Grace blinked in confusion at his strange remark. He held up the white mug in his hands. She noticed his knuckles were red and raw.

"It's Jack's hangover remedy. You're a doctor right? Tell me if it's really poison meant to kill me because this stuff smells vile."

"Jack's hangover remedy?" She repeated, looking from the mug and back to him.

He didn't look too bad actually for having spent the night drinking. Other then the slight smudges under his eyes, Adrian looked as disgustingly alert and handsome as he had the day before. It seemed he had landed more blows than his brother did.

"I don't want to drink it if I don't have to." He sounded so forlorn that Grace had to laugh.

"All right, I'll take a whiff."

Deciding to humor him, Grace leaned over and smelled the contents of the mug. Almost immediately she made a face that had Adrian chuckling.

Grace pushed the mug away and waved her hand in front of her nose to dispel the odor. "What is in Jack's Hangover remedy?"

"Probably everything the old fart could find in the kitchen mixed in with a little bit of espresso and vodka. It's a form of punishment he gave to me and Duval more then once when we were teens and thought partying was the best way to pass a weekend."

Propping one finger thoughtfully against her chin, Grace pretended to be deep in thought. Adrian had relaxed and was leaning against the wall again.

"My diagnose is that the remedy won't kill you, but you probably won't want to drink it anyway. Much as you might deserve the punishment."

He tilted his head. "Is that all the advice you can give little doctor?" A smile she was beginning to recognize as teasing appeared, drawing twin dimples on each lean cheek.

Grace's own grin faded away. Duval used to call her that. The sound of Duval's affectionate nickname for her coming from Adrian's drawling voice was jarring.

"What's wrong?" Adrian asked quietly. Grace shook her head and managed to give him a small smile.

"Nothing's wrong." Her nose still twitching from the slightly acidic smell of Jack's remedy, Grace took the mug from Adrian's hands. "Here, come with me to the kitchen. I'll pour this stuff down the drain and make you a less toxic remedy for that hangover of yours."

Inclining his head, Adrian followed behind her as she made her way to the kitchen.

Grace poured the remedy into the sink. Efficiently she made a jug of cold sparkling iced tea with lemon, club soda, a bit of honey and her secret ingredient; a teaspoon of salt.

Pouring a tall glass for Adrian and one for herself, she sat down at the table across from him and grinned. She took a long gulp and gave a satisfied sigh then slid him his.

"It's good. Try it."

"Did you learn this in medical school?" He gave the glass a suspicious look.

"Yep. I had to make it quite a lot for my roommate in college. She drank her way half through med school before dropping out to become a model."

Adrian looked doubtful but then he took it with a grin. "Lucky roommate."

Grace shrugged, her smile becoming wry. Her roommates had also thought that Grace was the biggest bore in the world. She wondered if Adrian thought that about her too.

After taking a sip, Adrian took a moment to study Grace. She didn't seem to notice. Right now she seemed a little lost in thought. Probably Duval. Her face was so very expressive. She couldn't hide anything even when she was trying.

Adrian wasn't an idiot. It had taken him about two seconds of seeing Grace around his brother to know that Grace was head over heels in love with Duval. The real question was, how the hell had Duval been blind enough to have missed that fact?

But that wasn't any of his business. Adrian had come back to La Mer to deal with his own demons. Not to take on more.

"Adrian?"

Grace's tentative voice made him look up. She looked so earnest that he fought back the urge to tease her. Could this woman really be his age? She was thirty-one, yet no sign of the wear and tear of living showed. Her face was as smooth and untroubled as a child's clear conscience. Although there were faint shadows of sadness in her gray eyes and an uncertain set to her mouth, Adrian could detect no hint of the cynical lines he saw in the mirror every day.

"Are you feeling better?" Her soft question made him laugh.

Grace frowned uncomfortably at Adrian's response. She was only trying to be a concerned friend.

Adrian's laugh relaxed into a lazy smile. He raised his glass and touched it lightly to hers. A faint musical clink sounded.

"I'm feeling much better. Thank you." He waited until she had raised hers as well before drinking. Setting his empty glass down he told her, "You know what? I could use a friend like you. Your remedy worked, I feel better already."

Grace gave him a wry smile. "Thanks. But I'm a pretty lousy friend."

"Well, so am I. So that should work out, right?" Grinning with his arctic eyes looking as warm as they possibly could, Adrian was a devilishly handsome man.

Grace sighed silently and wondered if it was her fate to be friends with all good-looking men and never anything more. It wasn't that she was interested in Adrian in a romantic way but it would have been nice if for once a man looked at her and saw a woman instead of a—friend.

Perhaps it was because she was putting out the wrong signals. Once she was over Duval, she would make sure that she stopped putting out 'friend' signals and started putting out 'sexy' signals.

"Correct me if I'm wrong but generally, don't friends talk?" Adrian's casually worded remark drove her gloomy thoughts away.

"Probably." She said shortly.

Adrian crossed his arms. Wearing only a thin gray tee-shirt and crisp navy cotton pajama bottoms, his rather impressive biceps were very apparent. She rubbed her eyes and looked down at her empty glass.

"So talk." Adrian commanded.

"About what?" Grace couldn't sit still as sudden restless energy ran through her. She stood up and cleared away their glasses.

"About you."

"Me?" Grace started washing the cups. "No thanks. I'm pretty boring. And glum too. Think Eeyore the mule and that's me."

"I thought Eeyore was far more interesting then Winnie or Tigger or any of the others."

Adrian came to stand next to her. Gently he took the glasses from her and rinsing them, put them away.

"But if you don't want to talk about you, I'll talk about me. How's that?

Grace looked up at him with surprise in her eyes. She couldn't help but appreciate the easy way he had around her. It relaxed her and she nodded.

"I'm about six foot two or three, two-hundred pounds. Did a short stint as a male model when I was seventeen. At twenty-one, started a travel business, just sold it for a nice chunk of change and so now at the old age of thirty-five, maybe I'll buy a nice island somewhere in the south Pacific and retire."

"So you're not poor?" She asked in confusion.

"You thought I was poor?" He raised a brow. "Whatever gave you that idea?"

"You!" Shaking her head she glared at him. "At the airport—you gave me the impression you were too poor to find a ride to La Mer. That was the only reason I agreed to have you ride along!"

"Ah. Yes, I'm sorry about that." He apologized insincerely. "But I didn't want to drive down alone. And I could tell you were a big old softie."

"Unbelievable." She crossed her arms.

"Forgive me?" He laughed.

Grace frowned even though she wasn't really angry. "Maybe. Not yet though."

"I won't lie to you again." His voice was solemn.

She bit her lip and nodded. Then she laughed.

"I can't believe I thought you were poor."

He smirked slightly. "I know. That was an Armani tee-shirt and Gaultier cargos I was wearing you know. It's expensive to look that shabby."

"So was any of what you just said true?" She asked.

He grinned. "Yep."

"Which part?"

"Everything except for the retiring part."

Grace wanted to ask more but he shook his head.

"Nope, no more questions. It's only fair that for everything I tell you about me, you have to tell me something about yourself in return."

"Fine. Don't blame me if you fall asleep."

"I promise I won't be bored."

"My parents died in a car accident when I was fifteen and I was raised by my older sister Elizabeth. I went to med school and now I'm a doctor." She gave him an apologetic look. "That's about it—oh wait, I own a small home in Minnesota. Now, I'm done."

"You're right, that is boring." He grinned.

"I warned you." She knew he was just teasing but she flushed anyway even as she smiled. He shook his head.

"I was only joking. That wasn't boring Grace. It sounded like the life of someone who has worked hard, has known pain and loss, and now is at a good place in her life."

She stared at him and slowly nodded. "Maybe you're right."

"I'm always right." He teased.

Grace laughed half-heartedly. "I wish I had even a drop of your self-assurance." She stood backed away and stuck her hands into her back pocket. "Well, I'd better get going."

Adrian nodded. His gaze caught hers momentarily and she felt a tiny skip in her chest at the expression in them. It was friendly and yet intent at the same time.

"I'll see you later." He murmured softly.

"Sure." She left the kitchen, unsure why she had felt suddenly so off balanced around Duval's brother.

After spending a bemused five minutes wondering about the enigma that was Adrian, Grace decided to leave to go shopping in town.

But before she left the house, she came across a tired looking Jack Lowery as he walked by with a tray. He gave her a nod and a smile.

"Good afternoon, Miss Madison."

"Hi Mr. Lowry." Grace peered at the covered tray he was holding. He saw where her gaze was and his smile became rueful.

"It's for Master Roussiard."

"Master Roussiard?" She teased gently. "You are so delightfully old-fashioned and British Mr. Lowry. I'll bet Duval just loves being called that—and having breakfast brought to him on a tray—Elizabeth used to tell me how she got pampered whenever she was here."

It was strangely easy to say Elizabeth's name to Mr. Jack Lowery. In the past five years, she hadn't been able to even think about Elizabeth without feeling her spirits take a dive.

The butler nodded and said gravely, "Elizabeth was a delight to have here—as are you."

"Thank you." Grace told him, her voice a bit thick. She changed the subject. "So what's in the tray?"

In answer, he uncovered the tray revealing a single mug filled with familiar looking black liquid.

The smells coming from the sludge was as disgusting as the stuff that Adrian had been attempting to drink earlier that morning. Grace couldn't help taking a step back and clearing her throat.

"Isn't that the famous Jack Lowery Hangover remedy?" She asked grinning.

"Yes, how did you know?" He asked.

"I've heard it's a form of punishment, right?"

The butler's face got a bit red. "Err—yes." He replied gruffly. "I supposed you saw Master Adrian this morning?"

"Yep." She said cheerfully and he got redder. He cleared his throat.

"Trust me, Ms. Grace, they deserve it."

"Oh, I completely agree." Grace told him earnestly.

Mr. Lowry's rueful smile disappeared and was replaced with weariness. For the first time, Grace noticed that the man's usually rose-tinted cheeks were grayish and pale in color. Faint smudges under his eyes and more pronounced wrinkles on the sides of his nose and mouth made the butler look far older then he was.

"Are you feeling okay, Mr. Lowry?" Grace asked in concern.

The whites of his eyes were cloudy, displaying dull gaze due to a lack of sleep that she could clearly recognize, being a recent victim of that particular ailment as well.

"I stayed up for most of the night with the two boys. As a peacemaker of sorts."

It was a testament of how tired the butler must have been that he slipped and called Duval and Adrian 'boys' instead of his usual 'Master Roussiards'.

"Not that it helped all that much, I assure you." He told her with a shake of his head. "But at least they are no longer at each other's throat and agreed to settle their fight with words rather then fists."

"How did you manage that?"

"Two extremely expensive bottles of a rare vintage."

"Ah, right. Drinking." She noted with a slightly disapproving look she had cultivated to perfection as a doctor. "Do you know how much damage alcohol does to your liver?"

He looked worried. Impulsively, Grace took the tray from him. "I'm just teasing you. Here, I'll take this to Duval. You go and get some rest, Mr. Lowry."

He clearly wanted to argue but the older man must have sensed the steel behind her kind words because he simply nodded. Then a small smile lifted his lips again.

"You go and take care of him then." There was a slight nuance to the butler's innocent words that made Grace's eyes narrow.

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing, Miss Grace. Just that you are a doctor so you should be able to help fix him up better then anybody else could."

Looking suddenly less tired, the butler walked away. Grace was left standing in the hallway holding the tray as she pondered what Jack Lowry might have meant with his comment.

Shrugging, she carefully balanced the tray and made her way down the hall. A part of her brain noted that Duval's room was basically next to hers, separated only by a large towel closet.

Pushing that stray thought from her mind, Grace quietly knocked on Duval's door. She waited a bit but didn't hear anything. Deciding that he was probably still asleep, she opened the door and walked in.

Her purposeful steps halted and only by the purest force of will did Grace prevent the contents of her tray from spilling all over the place.

"Ohh—!" Her voice came out in a shocked squeak.

Grace's eyes snapped shut.

But although she could no longer physically see him, the image was burned into her cornea now and impossible to remove. Her face felt on fire and somehow it didn't matter that she was a doctor of thirty-one who had seen more then her share of naked bodies during the course of her professional career.

The image of Duval's magnificently nude body sprawled with careless abandon over the white sheets of his king sized bed was far more intimate and shocking then anything else she could remember. His arms and chest had been a study of heavy masculine strength, smooth muscles sliding under golden skin and a sharply ridged flat abdomen that men, ten years younger, would have been jealous of. And the hard taut lines of his strong thighs led up to....

"How long are you going to keep your eyes shut?"

The gruffly amused male voice made her face burn even hotter. Grace just shook her head. It was all wrong. All wrong. She wasn't ready yet. She hadn't prepared what to say to him, what to do—

"Grace?" Although Duval was definitely amused, there was an underlying huskiness to his voice and a carefulness to the volume at which he spoke that reminded Grace of why she had came into his bedroom in the first place.

She made her voice brisk to cover up her embarrassment.

"Are you decent now?"

"I'm not sure." He gave a weak laugh. "Depends on what you define as decent I guess."

Grace's stern expression did not change even if it was rather ineffective since it belonged to such a flushed face.

"You know what I mean." She said quietly.

There was some rustling as sheets were moved about and a slight groan—probably his head taking an internal pounding from last night's excess. Grace didn't have too much sympathy at that moment.

"Okay, you can open your eyes now."

She did and found that Duval had pulled the sheets up far enough so that only his bare torso was showing. The sight of so much tawny flesh contrasted with the pure white of the bed sheets was gorgeous. Grace lowered her eyes to the mug on her tray.

"Is that what I think it is? Good god." He muttered. "Take it away, I'm not going to drink that stuff."

Grace forgot her embarrassment. With the return of her professional detachment, her eyes moved over his face and chest with a clinical eye. Other then a slightly battered appearance and the shiner of a black eye, there was nothing wrong with Duval that taking a shower and some aspirin wouldn't fix. There was no need for him to drink the bad-smelling contents of the mug since it wasn't really going to help.

However... Grace gave him a sweet smile. When she was younger, her sister Elizabeth had used to say that she was as mischievous and naughty as a wild imp. Although most of that frenetic energy had long disappeared, enough of it remained so that once in a while, Grace had the urge to do something just a little bit evil.

"You look terrible Duval."

She set the mug down on the nightstand next to him and sat on the bed. He inched away as she suddenly leaned close and peered into his red-rimmed eyes.

"You had better drink this. It should make you feel better."

"I know it won't make me feel better." Duval shook his head. "I'm not drinking that crud."

"I'm a doctor. I know best." She crossed her arms. "Drink it."

He laughed and then groaned clutching his head. Suddenly he stilled. Lowering his hands, he reached out with one and gently grasped her hand.

"Did I tell you how glad I am that you're here?" He asked quietly. "I wanted nothing more then to have my best friend here with me at this important time."

Grace jumped up, dislodging his hand and rattling the nightstand next to the bed and almost knocking the drink over.

Pointing inanely at the hangover remedy, she blurted, "Drink that—and I hope you feel better. I've got to go—do some shopping for the wedding if I'm to attend! Yes. I don't have a dress yet so—."

She spun around and left, almost running out in her haste.

* * *

Duval watched her leave with surprise at the abruptness. But a part of him was also relieved.

Because it was all wrong.

Last night he had almost kissed her and even now he couldn't understand it. Why? The easiest explanation, even if it made him sound like a jackass, would be to attribute his sudden attraction to Grace was due to the fact that he was getting married soon. Maybe he was really only trying to cling on to something that reminded him of the only woman he had ever loved. Elizabeth.

But then he would be lying to himself.

With his head pounding hard enough to split apart into two, Duval made himself think about other things. Like Jack's remedy for hangovers.

It had never worked once when he was a teen and logically he knew that it probably would never work. However—Duval grimaced and thought about the pain that had flashed briefly in Grace's face before she had fled from him. He hoped to hell that she hadn't seen the desire in his eyes for what it was. Because he knew that it would disgust her and drive her away forever. And that was something he couldn't bear thinking about. Life without Grace.

They needed to have an honest talk soon. No matter how disagreeable it was doomed to turn out to be.

Facing the mug of Jack's remedy, Duval gave a resigned sigh. He lifted the mug and drank down his punishment.