by Risk, Mona
“Do you resent your parents?”
“Of course, I do. People shouldn’t have children if they can’t stick around to take care of them. Maybe one day I’ll change my mind and have a child. But when I decide.”
Was it all about control as far as Jeremy was concerned?
“Have you ever thought about marriage?”
“Yes. I dated married women along the way. A different fun.”
“Oh.” Luc frowned. That wasn’t what he’d meant with his question, but he played along to learn more about his patient. “Did you consider it a challenge?”
“Somehow. It was fun to get a woman to dump her husband or fiancé for me.”
Fun. Challenge. Two more words reported on Luc’s pad. “Have you ever considered getting married?” he asked, clarifying his original question.
“Sure. I did. But I like to be the one doing the asking. The one or two women I could have asked left me before I had time to seriously consider marriage.”
“Do you think of marriage as a permanent relationship?”
“Permanent?” Jeremy sneered. “Doctor, you are naïve for a Frenchy. Why d’you think God invented divorce?”
Luc arched his eyebrow but didn’t comment. “These two women you would have considered as prospective wives, why did they leave?”
Jeremy shrugged. “An argument. A fight.”
“Did you hit them?”
“Yep.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “Can’t remember exactly why. They must have upset me.”
“Did you throw them out?”
“Lord, no. I loved Laurie. I couldn’t get enough of her body. But she left me.”
“You didn’t try to find her?”
“Of course, I did. I hired a detective. He found her for me. I went to see her. She didn’t want to hear about coming back.”
“And?”
“I got upset and I hit her.”
“So you are usually calm and good to your women, but when you get upset you hit them.” Definitely control issues.
“Exactly.” Jeremy smacked the desk and smiled. “Doctor, I’m glad you understand me so well.”
“We have talked enough for today, Mr. Rutherford. We will continue the discussion next week.” The hour of consultation was finally over.
“Well, that wasn’t too bad. Glad you agree with me. If I have questions before my next appointment, I will drop by.”
“No, you can’t do that. I may be busy with other patients. We will discuss any questions you may have during our next session.”
“What if I want to talk to you before that?”
Luc handed him a card. “You can call this number. The receptionist will give me your message, and I will call you back.”
“I hope you’ll answer right away,” Jeremy said in a clipped tone. “I’m not a patient man.”
“Mr. Rutherford, I will do my best to get back to you as soon as I can.” Luc struggled to suppress his annoyance as he ushered Jeremy to the door. “Have a good evening.”
“See you next week, doctor.”
Luc breathed with relief when the door finally closed behind Jeremy. The arrogant bastard hadn’t shown an ounce of remorse for mistreating his former girlfriends. Good thing Olivia had refused to treat Jeremy. Luc didn’t doubt that Jeremy would consider her a nice challenge and try to lure her into his bed again, if only because he liked to coerce his women into submission.
After collecting his pad, Luc strode out of the Crisis Center. On his way to his office, he stopped at the cafeteria for a cup of coffee, then spent an hour typing on his laptop a detailed report based on the few words he’d jotted on his pad during the interview.
By six o’clock he headed home to the McMillan’s mansion, his mind shut to everything but the father-daughter dance of tomorrow evening. Tonight after a good shower, he’d put some CDs on and practice his dance steps.
He wanted Melissa to be proud of her temporary father.
CHAPTER TWELVE
“Can someone get the door?” Olivia called from the top of the stairs.
“Sure.” Both the teenager and her grandmother answered at the same time. Melissa glided across the marble floor of the foyer toward the front door, her burgundy velvet dress swaying around her knees. A pair of patent, two-inch heel shoes dangling from one hand, she opened the door.
“Oh my God.” Hearing her daughter’s squeal, Olivia leaned over the banister. She had trouble stifling her own gasp as Luc walked in, hugged Melissa and strolled into the parlor to kiss Mama on both cheeks. He was drop-dead gorgeous. A sight to behold in a black tux and pristine white shirt highlighted with a satin bowtie. She couldn’t afford to fail the elegance test.
Olivia looked down at her black silk dress, the epitome of discreet fashion, according to the sales clerk at Saks Fifth Avenue. It ought to be, considering its outrageous price, but it was so simple with its plunging V-neck, elbow-length sleeves, and straight narrow skirt. Olivia was glad she’d worn the pearl necklace and earrings her parents had given her for her med school graduation.
“You look stunning, my dear Luc. Absolutely dazzling.” Marianna had no qualms lavishing her favorite man with compliments. For a change, she was right. “Melissa, you lucky girl, you’ll have the most handsome man twirling you around.”
“Mom,” Melissa called toward the stairs as she slipped on her pumps. “Come on. I don’t want to be late.”
Luc raised his head. She’d expected him to chuckle or grin when he caught sight of her riveted in place, gawking at him. Instead, his eyebrows shot up, and he stared. She clutched her purse and shawl with one hand and the rail with the other.
As she started down the stairs, his eyes darkened, hot and sultry. His gaze roamed over her décolletage, skimmed her waist and slid along her legs encased in smoky pantyhose. Warm tingles spiraled from her throat down to her belly and her thighs.
Coming forward he extended his hand, palm open to help her down the last step, and bowed to brush a kiss on her knuckles. Her heart jolted.
“Bonsoir, Olivia.” He looked at her, a question in his eyes.
“Good evening, Luc. I’m going to the dance as a chaperone.” Olivia self-consciously touched her hair, wondered if her makeup were too obvious and fiddled with her shawl.
“Fantastic.” His gaze drifted to her face, eyes glittering with a new fire as he smiled. “Lovely dress.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “You look ravishing.”
Goosebumps dotted her skin at his appreciative stare.
He took the shawl from her hands, spread it over her shoulders and smoothed it slowly down her back, his fingers warmer than the wool of her wrap. Heat seeped into her bones, and her knees weakened.
“Thank you.” She wiggled free of his grasp and stepped forward.
Things were not going as anticipated. In her plan, she was supposed to conduct the seduction with a cool head and bring him back to the idea of marriage.
“I will be the luckiest man tonight with two beautiful ladies at my side.” Luc presented both arms.
Melissa picked up her coat from the back of a chair and daintily hooked her fingers around his elbow. Olivia hesitated, then threw him a lopsided grin and followed suit.
“Have fun.” Marianne stood at the door, beaming, a chocolate in her hand.
“Goodnight, Mom. Stop eating chocolate. Remember your cholesterol.”
“Bonne nuit, Marianne.”
“Night, Nana.”
“There’s no Cinderella curfew here. Take your time,” her mother said as she waved them on their way.
“We won’t be too late. I have to drive to my place tonight. I’m on call tomorrow and can’t afford to be far in case the hospital calls.”
Luc pressed her arm tighter against him. “Do not worry. I will drive you. It is a long way.”
Marianna nodded. “Luc dear, it’s a great idea to drive Olivia tonight. I’d be worried about her that late on the road.”
“Mom! What are you talking about? I’m used to driving at an
y time of the day or night.”
A wicked glint flashed in Marianna’s eyes as she dismissed Olivia with a flip of her hand. “Luc, you come to dinner on Sunday. I’ll make cannelloni with spinach for you and a duck à l’orange, dear.”
“My favorite. I will be here for sure. Thank you, Marianna.”
“Come on,” Melissa called from the driveway. “I don’t want to be the last one to get there.”
“I can’t believe it.” Olivia slapped her purse against her thigh as Luc led her toward Doc’s Mercedes, a hand at her back. “The woman is determined to push me into your arms.”
“Yes?”
She caught Luc’s wolfish smile and bit her tongue. She’d bet he was imagining a vivid picture of her literally falling into his arms. He cleared his throat. “Melissa is getting impatient.”
Luc helped her in the car and shut the door after Melissa. “Where should I go, ladies?”
“Turn right out of the driveway, left at the second light, then straight for five minutes,” Melissa instructed. “You’ll see the high school on your right.”
When they arrived, Luc dropped them at the entrance and went to park. They waited for him in the school lobby. A couple of girls joined them with their dads in tow.
Melissa bent toward Olivia and whispered, “Mom, see this girl in pink? She’s the one whose mother is French.” Raising her voice, she introduced her friend. “Christine will be going to France with me. She gave me those French magazines her mother receives to browse through.”
Olivia smiled at the pretty teenager. Actually, all the girls looked lovely in their finery, neatly set hair and light makeup. But my baby is one of the prettiest, Olivia thought with motherly pride as she admired her daughter.
Melissa turned toward her friend, her mane of blond hair floating around her shoulders. “Wait till you see the guy who’s my father tonight. A knock-out.”
Melissa was right. Although he seemed unaware of his charm, Luc could be a heartbreaker. Good thing the female crowd was under seventeen. Olivia didn’t want competition around as she launched into a thorough campaign to win Luc’s heart again. For good.
He came back and escorted them inside the gymnasium transformed into glitzy ballroom for the joyful occasion.
“It looks like a wedding reception.” Melissa couldn’t contain her glee. The cafeteria tables dressed with full-length pink tablecloths and the white-covered chairs tied with pink organdy ribbons had completely transformed the huge room. Melissa pointed to the basketball nets concealed under clusters of balloons.
“We’ll drop them at midnight.” Olivia mentally patted herself on the back for taking the time to study the schedule of events. “Now, I’d better start my duties.” She slid into her seat at a table lined with cards printed in black with a calligraphy number. She handed Luc one. “Here’s yours. Table five. You’re right on the dance floor.”
People filed in to get their seating arrangements, and Olivia stopped paying attention to her daughter and companion.
“May I get you a drink?” Luc asked, from behind her.
“They’re serving fruit punch and soft drinks tonight.” Olivia stifled a smile, wondering how her Frenchman would survive without wine.
“Punch is perfect. Come, Melissa.” He took her daughter’s arm.
Olivia followed them with a tender smile as they negotiated their way to the makeshift bar, received their drinks and returned with three glasses of punch filled to the brim.
“Mom, this one’s for you.”
“Thanks. Go have fun.” She smiled, then attended to the other guests.
Suddenly the lights flickered and dimmed. Dance music blasted through the room. To Olivia’s amazement, Luc pulled Melissa out of her chair. The first couple on the dance floor, they started swinging and shaking, soon followed by the crowd of girls and dads. An hour later, Melissa, laughing, her eyes bright, came toward her dragging Luc by the hand.
“Mom, I need a break. I can lend you my father for a dance.”
Her father. Olivia’s breath caught in her throat. If only it were true.
“I can’t dance. I’m on duty. Besides, this soiree is only for the students and their fathers.”
“Nope. See Jennifer’s mom is dancing with her dad, and my class room teacher, Miss Brown, is dancing with the principal.” Melissa took Olivia’s hand and put it in Luc’s large one. “Come on, Mom. Loosen up. Luc, go easy on Mom. I’ve never seen her dance. It’s her first time.”
“Melissa!”
Luc burst out laughing. “These children think their parents are ancient. Ready for a demonstration of my wonderful dance steps, Olivia?”
He pulled her to the dance floor just as rock music started. “Luc, I don’t want to attract attention to us. Some of the staff are here, and they all know me as a serious doctor.”
“So? You are entitled to have some fun.” He wrapped an arm around her waist, swung to the strong beat of the music, spun her into his arms and out again. Olivia laughed and followed his fast-paced lead as they moved and grooved to the music. He was a good dancer, and she delighted at being in his arms. When the rock music stopped, she felt flushed and disappointed it had ended so quickly.
Luc held her hand, preventing her from going back to her table. “Everyone is seated. Melissa is eating her dinner and talking to her friends. We can dance a little longer.”
Without waiting for her answer, he pulled her against him. As the band played a slow tune, they glided around with little steps. “Did I tell you how beautiful you look?”
She chuckled. “As a matter of fact you did.”
“And you smell divine.” His gaze drifted from her eyes to her mouth, then veered off to the ballroom where hundreds of teenagers and their dads ate and danced. He exhaled. “I guess we have to behave.”
“We’d better.” She sighed and closed her eyes, then snapped them open as she, too, remembered the age of the crowd surrounding them.
Luc tightened his hold on her back. “Melissa was wrong. You dance very well.”
“You too. Did you have a lot of practice in Paris?”
“Some. Although I would have rather been dancing with you,” he whispered against her hair.
“I haven’t seen you for ten years. No serious relationships during all that time?” She tilted her head, suddenly curious to learn everything about him, particularly his love life.
Luc captured her gaze and smiled. “None. I couldn’t find a single woman comparable to you, chérie.”
“Oh Luc, what a nice compliment.” Her heart hummed with the band, and a happy feeling danced deep inside her as their gazes locked. At that moment she knew without a shadow of a doubt that she had never stopped loving him.
She wanted him now. She wanted him forever.
Hope fluttered in the air, but she couldn’t stand the tension of being in his arms and not kissing him. If she’d so much as tip her face up, their lips would touch. Her cheeks flushed, and her fingers curled around the lapel of his jacket.
Stop looking at me.
When the music ended, Olivia glanced at the punch table. She was terribly thirsty but didn’t want to inconvenience Luc with a request for a drink. “Be right back. Wait a second.”
She sauntered to the table, ignored the two punch bowls and fetched a bottle of water. She poured herself a glass and drank half of it right away, then filled it again and carried it with her. When she walked back, Luc was conversing with one of the dads.
“Count Toulon-Chatel, what a surprise. I recognized you from your many pictures in the magazines. My wife was a college friend of Marie-Claire’s,” the dad said, his voice reaching Olivia in spite of the background noise of the room. “She showed me your pictures with Marie-Claire in Paris-Match and Vogue. Congratulations on your engagement, sir.”
Olivia stopped in her tracks. The man’s last word squeezed her heart like a pair of medical tweezers. Luc glanced at her from above the man’s shoulder and frowned.
“Enchanté, Mo
nsieur. Please excuse me.” Luc edged around the man and ushered her away.
“I have to help with the desserts,” she said, looking at the crowd.
“Olivia, please, do not pay attention to what he said. It is nothing.”
“Luc, don’t worry. I mean, I didn’t even know you’d show up in Cincinnati again. It’d be ridiculous on my part to question your private life.” She averted her eyes, unable to face him.
“Still, I want to explain.” His hand on her back, he led her to an empty table at the far corner of the ballroom, out of earshot.
“Marie-Claire?” The name stung, but she shrugged. “You don’t owe me any explanations. Remember you wanted simple fun between us. That’s it.”
That was not it. He had kissed her on three occasions, and she had hoped that tonight... Empty dreams. She slumped into a chair. Her insides twisted. Her blood roiled.
“Marie-Claire was nothing more than a companion for a few outings.”
“Sure. But I don’t believe a man can go that long without women.” She bit her tongue as soon as she blurted it. What an idiotic thing to say.
His eyebrow arched. “I never pretended I remained celibate for ten years.”
She blushed furiously. Did he have to be so blunt? Damn his honesty. “I understand.”
“No, you do not.” The left side of his mouth twitched slightly. He sat beside her. “Listen, Olivia. The paparazzi reported regularly about my public appearances. It is all gossip, trash. The bold ones announced my engagement twice a year to the latest lady hanging onto my arm.” He raised his hands and then clasped them together. “And I disappointed them regularly.”
“I see. The Count de Toulon-Chatel fed the gossip column with his many conquests.” So, he was a big shot in the social arena as well as the medical field. She couldn’t care less about the latest lady hanging on his arm, or the one before her.
She surveyed the room, trying to ignore the painful stab nudging her side. Jealousy? Never.
“You should go finish your dinner before it gets cold,” she said, her voice icy enough to freeze any meal. “I’m going to check if they need me at the buffet.”
“I will walk you to the buffet table.”
