HER SECRET HUSBAND

by Andrea Laurence

  Heath looked down and noticed that Julianne was tightly clutching her sculpting tool with white-knuckled strength. “No one here will find out,” he added.

  Finally, Julianne nodded, dropping the tool and stretching her fingers. “I haven’t seen you look this uncomfortable since Sheriff Duke rolled onto the property.” She laughed nervously and rubbed her hands clean on her pants.

  He doubted he had looked as concerned as she did now. “I can probably get Wade to step in and help while we’re gone. Things are in pretty good shape around here. So can I interest you in an all-expense-paid weekend in Paris? We leave tomorrow. My personal discomfort will simply be a bonus.”

  Julianne nodded and came out from behind her work table. “I get to be a witness to your personal discomfort and experience Paris for free? Hmm...I think I can stand being in love with you for a few days for that. But,” she added, holding up her hand, “just to be clear, this is all for show to protect your business. Nothing we say or do can be considered evidence of long-suppressed feelings for one another. By the time we get home, the clock will be up on the two of us. Consider this trip our last hoorah.”

  Nine

  “Did you remember to bring your wedding ring?”

  Julianne paused in the lobby of J’Adore and started searching in her purse. “I brought it. I just forgot to put it on. What about you?”

  Heath held up his left hand and wiggled his fingers. “Got it.”

  Julianne finally located the small velvet box that held her wedding band. The poor, ignored gold band had been rotting in her jewelry box since the day they returned from their trip to Europe. They’d bought the bands from a small jewelry shop in Gibraltar. With a reputation for being the Las Vegas of Europe, there were quite a few places with wedding bands for last-minute nuptials. They hadn’t been very expensive. They were probably little more than nickel painted over with gold-colored paint. Had they been worn for more than a week, the gold might have chipped off long ago, but as it was, they were as perfect and shiny as the day they’d bought them.

  She slipped the band onto her finger and put the box away. It felt weird to wear her ring again, especially so close to the finalization of their divorce. Part of her couldn’t help thinking this ruse was a mistake. It felt like playing with fire. She’d been burned too many times in her life already.

  “Okay, are you ready? This is our first public outing as a married couple. Try to remember not to pull away from me the way you always do.”

  Julianne winced at his observation. She did pull away from him. Even now. Even with no one here having the slightest clue who they were. It was her reflex to shy away from everyone who touched her, at least at first. He seemed to think it was just him instead of a lingering side effect of her attack. She just didn’t care to be touched very much. She wanted to tell him that it wasn’t about him, but now was not the time to open that can of worms. “I’ll do my best,” she said instead. “Try not to sneak up on me, though.”

  Heath nodded and took her hand. “Let’s go and get this over with.”

  They checked in at the front desk and were escorted to the executive offices by Marie, Madame Badeau’s personal assistant. The walls and floors were all painted a delicate shade of pink that Heath told her was called “blush” after the company’s first cheek color. When they reached the suite outside Madame Badeau’s offices, the blush faded to white. White marble floors, white walls, white leather furniture, white lamps and glass and crystal fixtures to accent them.

  “Bonjour, Monsieur Langston!”

  A woman emerged from a frosted pair of double doors. Like the office, she was dressed in an all-white pantsuit. It was tailored to perfection, showing every flawless curve of the older woman’s physique. This was no ordinary woman approaching her sixties. There wasn’t a single gray hair in her dark brown coiffure. Not a wrinkle, a blemish, or a bit of makeup out of place. This woman had the money to pay the personal trainers and plastic surgeons necessary to preserve her at a solid forty-year-old appearance.

  Heath reluctantly let go of Julianne’s hand to embrace Madame Badeau and give her kisses on each cheek. “You’re looking ravishing, as always, Cecilia.”

  “You charmer.” The woman beamed at Heath, holding his face in her hands. She muttered something in French, but Julianne hadn’t a clue what she said.

  And then the dark gaze fell on her. “And this must be Madame Langston! Julianne, oui?”

  At first, Julianne was a little startled by the use of the married name she’d never taken. She recovered quickly by nodding as the woman approached her. She followed Heath’s lead in greeting the woman. “Yes. Thank you for allowing me to join Heath on this trip. We haven’t been back to Paris since he confessed his love for me at the base of the Eiffel Tower.”

  Cecilia placed a hand over her heart and sighed. “Such a beautiful moment, I’m sure. You must have dinner there tonight!” The woman’s accent made every word sound so lovely, Julianne would’ve agreed to anything she said. “I will have Marie arrange it.”

  “That isn’t necessary, Cecilia. I’m here to work on the spring J’Adore campaign. Besides, it would be impossible to get reservations on such short notice.”

  Cecilia puckered her perfectly plumped and painted lips with a touch of irritation. “You are in Paris, Heath. You must enjoy yourself. In Paris we do not work twenty-four hours a day. There must be time for wine and conversation. A stroll along the Seine. If you do not make time for that, why even bother to be in Paris at all? Non,” she said, dismissing his complaint with the elegant wave of her hand. “You will dine there tonight. I am good friends with the owner. Alain will make certain you are accommodated. Is eight o’clock too early?”

  Julianne remembered how late Parisian evenings tended to go. Eating dinner at five in the evening was preposterous to them. “That would be lovely,” she responded, before Heath could argue again. The last time she was in Paris, they couldn’t even afford the ticket to the top, much less dining in their gourmet French restaurant. She would take advantage of it this time, for certain. “Merci, madame,” she said, using two of the five French words she knew.

  Cecilia waved off Marie to make the arrangements. “Quickly, business, then more pleasure,” she said with a spark of mischief in her dark eyes. “Heath, your art director has made the arrangement for a second photo shoot today. It should only take a few hours. While we are there, perhaps your belle femme would enjoy a luxurious afternoon in the spa downstairs?”

  Julianne was about to protest, but the wide smile on Heath’s face stopped her before she could speak. “That’s a wonderful idea,” Heath said. “Jules, the J’Adore spa is a world-famous experience. While I work this out, you can enjoy a few hours getting pampered and ready for dinner this evening. How does that sound?”

  She thought for certain that Heath wouldn’t want to be left alone with Cecilia, but this didn’t seem to bother him at all. Perhaps her appearance had already made all the difference. “Très bien,” Julianne said with a smile.

  Cecilia picked up the phone to make the arrangements and she and Heath settled at her desk to work on some details. Julianne sat quietly, sipping sparkling water and taking in the finer details of the office. A few minutes later, Marie reappeared to escort her to the spa.

  Remembering her role as happy wife, Julianne returned to Heath’s side and leaned in to give him a passionate, but appropriate kiss. She didn’t want to overdo it. The moment their lips met, the ravenous hunger for Heath she’d become all too familiar with returned. She had to force herself to pull away.

  “I’m off to be pampered,” she said with a smile to cover the flush of arousal as one of excitement. “I’ll see you this evening. Au revoir,” she said, slipping out of the office in Marie’s wake.

  They returned to the first floor of the building, where a private entrance led them to the facility most customers entered from the street to the right of the J’Adore offices. Marie handed her over to Jacqueline, the manager of
the spa.

  “Madame Langston, are you ready for your day of pampering?” she said with a polite, subdued smile.

  “I am. What am I having done?”

  Jacqueline furrowed her brow at her for a moment in confusion, and then she laughed. “Madame Badeau said you are to be given all our finest and most luxurious treatments. You’re doing everything, madame.”

  * * *

  Heath hoped everything went okay with Julianne. Had he not sent her to one of the finest day spas in the world, he might have been worried about working and leaving her alone like that. He’d thought perhaps that he would need her to stay with him all the time, but the moment Cecilia laid eyes on Julianne, the energy she projected toward him shifted. He knew instantly that she would no longer be in pursuit of him, although he wasn’t entirely sure what had made the difference.

  It wasn’t until they were going over the proofs of the photo shoot several hours later that she leaned into him and said, “You love your Julianne very much, I can tell.”

  At first, he wanted to scoff at her observation, but he realized that he couldn’t. Of course he would love his wife. That’s how marriages worked. He tried to summon the feelings he’d had for her all those years ago so his words rang with an authenticity Cecilia would recognize. “She was the first and maybe the last woman I’ll ever love. The day she said she would marry me was the happiest and scariest day of my life.”

  That was true enough.

  “I see something between you two. I do not see it often. You have something rare and precious. You must treat your love like the most valuable thing you will ever own. Don’t ever let it get away from you. You will regret it your entire life, I assure you.”

  There was a distance in Cecilia’s eyes when she spoke that convinced Heath she knew firsthand about that kind of loss. But he couldn’t see what she thought she saw in his relationship with Julianne. There might be passion. There might be a nostalgia for the past they shared. But they didn’t have the kind of great love Cecilia claimed. A love like that would have survived all these years, shining like a bright star instead of hiding in the shadows like an embarrassing secret. Perhaps they were just better actors than he gave them credit for.

  The conversation had ended and they’d finished their day at work. Julianne had texted him to let him know a car was taking her back to their hotel and she would meet him there to go for dinner. Cecilia had booked them a room at the Four Seasons Hotel George V Paris, just off the Chámps Élysées. He arrived there around nightfall, when the town had just begun to famously sparkle and glow. Perhaps they could walk to the Eiffel Tower. It wasn’t a long walk, just a nice stroll across the bridge and along the Seine. The weather was perfect—cool, but not too cold.

  He opened the door of their hotel room, barging inside. He found Julianne sitting on the edge of their king-sized bed, fastening the buckle on the ankle strap of her beige heels. His gaze traveled up the length of her bare leg to the nude-colored lace sheath dress she was wearing. It hugged her every curve, giving almost the illusion that she was naked, it so closely matched the creamy ivory of her skin.

  Julianne stood up, giving him a better view of the dress. She made a slow turn, showcasing the curve of her backside and the hard muscles of her calves in those sky-high nude pumps with red soles. The peek of red was the only pop of color aside from the matching red painted on her lips. “What do you think?”

  “It’s...” he began, but his mouth was so dry he had difficulty forming the words. “Very nice.”

  “When I got done a little early, I decided to go shopping. It’s a Dolce & Gabbana dress. And these are Christian Louboutin shoes. I honestly can’t believe I spent as much money as I did, but after all that pampering, I was feeling indulgent and carefree for once.”

  “It’s worth every penny,” Heath said. In that moment he wanted to buy her a hundred dresses if they would make her beam as radiantly as she did right now. “But now I’m underdressed. Give me a few minutes and I’ll be ready to go.”

  Heath didn’t have a tuxedo with him, but he pulled out his finest black Armani suit and the ivory silk dress shirt that would perfectly match her dress. He showered quickly to rinse away the grit and worries of the day and changed into the outfit.

  “I was going to suggest we walk since it’s so nice, but I’m thinking those shoes aren’t meant for city strolls.”

  “Even if they were, Marie arranged for a car to pick us up at seven forty-five. Perhaps we can walk home.” Julianne gathered up a small gold clutch and pulled a gold wrap around her shoulders.

  Heath held out his arm to usher her out the door. In the lobby, a driver was waiting for them. He led them outside to the shiny black Bentley. They relaxed in the soft leather seats as the driver carried them through the dark streets and across the bridge to the left bank where the Eiffel Tower stood.

  The driver escorted them to the entrance reserved for guests of the Jules Verne restaurant. The private elevator whisked them to the second floor in moments. Heath remembered climbing the over six hundred stairs to reach this floor eleven years ago. The lift entrance tickets were double the price, so they’d skipped it and walked up. The elevator was decidedly more luxurious and didn’t make his thighs quiver.

  They were seated at a table for two right against the glass overlooking Paris. Out the window, they could see the numerous bridges stretching over the Seine and the glowing, vaulted glass ceiling of the Grand Palais beyond it. The view was breathtaking. Romantic. It made him wish he’d been able to afford a place like this when they were kids. Proposing from the lawn had been nice, but not nice enough for their relationship to last. Caviar and crème fraîche might not a good marriage make, but it couldn’t have hurt.

  They both ordered wine and the tasting menu of the evening. Then they sat nervously fidgeting with their napkins and looking out the window for a few minutes. Pretending to be a couple in front of Cecilia was one thing. Now they were smack-dab in the middle of one of the most romantic places on earth with no one to make a show for.

  They’d spent the last few weeks together. They shared a bed nearly every night. But they hadn’t done any of that in Paris, the city where they fell in love. Paris was the wild card that scared Heath to death. He’d done a good job to keep his distance in all of this. Julianne’s remoteness made that easier. He liked to think that in a few short days, he would be divorced and happy about that fact.

  But Paris could change everything. It had once; it could do it again. The question was whether or not he wanted it to. He shouldn’t. It was the same self-destructive spiral that had kept him in this marriage for eleven long years. But that didn’t keep him from wanting the thing he’d been promised the day they married.

  As the first course arrived, he opted to focus on his food instead of the way the warm lighting made her skin look like soft velvet. He wouldn’t pay attention to the way she closed her eyes and savored each bite that passed her lips. And he certainly would ignore the way she occasionally glanced at him when she thought he wasn’t looking.

  That was just asking for trouble and he had his hands full already.

  * * *

  “We have to stay and watch the lights.”

  Julianne led Heath out from beneath the Eiffel Tower to the long stretch of dark lawn that sprawled beside it. The first time they had been here, they’d laid out on a blanket. Tonight, they weren’t prepared and there was no way she would tempt the fabric of her new dress with grass stains, so she stopped at one of the gravel paths that dissected the lawn.

  “We’ve seen them before, Jules.”

  She frowned at him, ignoring his protests. They were watching the lights. “It’s five minutes out of your busy life, Heath. Relax. The moment it’s over, we’ll head back to the hotel, okay?”

  With a sigh, he stopped protesting and took his place beside her. It wasn’t long before the tower went dark and the spectacular dance of sparkling lights lit up the steel structure. It twinkled like something out of
a fairy tale. Heath put his arm around her shoulder and she slipped into the nook of his arm, sighing with contentment.

  Heath might be uncomfortable here because this was where their relationship had changed permanently, but Julianne was happy to be back. This had been the moment where she was the happiest. The moment she’d allowed herself to really love Heath for the first time. She’d been fighting the feelings for months. Once he said he loved her, there was no more holding back. It had been one of those beautiful moments, as if they’d been in a movie, where everything is perfect and romantic.

  It was later that everything went wrong.

  The lights finally stopped and the high beams returned to illuminate the golden goddess from the base. Julianne turned and found Heath looking at her instead of the tower. There was something in his eyes in that moment that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. She knew what she wanted to see. What she wanted to happen. If this had been a movie, Heath would have taken her into his arms and kissed her with every ounce of passion in his body. Then he would have said he loved her and that he didn’t want a divorce.

  But this was real life. Instead, the light in his eyes faded. He politely offered her his arm and they turned and continued down the path to the sidewalk that would lead them back to the Seine. Julianne swallowed her disappointment and tried to focus on the positives of the evening instead of the fantasy she’d built in her head.

  As they neared the river, the cool night air off the water made Julianne shiver. The gold wrap was more decorative than functional.

  “Here,” Heath said, slipping out of his coat and holding it for her. “Put this on.”

  “Thank you,” Julianne replied, accepting the jacket. “It’s quite a bit cooler than it was when we went to dinner.” She snuggled into the warm, soft fabric, the scent of Heath’s skin and cologne comingling in the air surrounding her. It instantly brought to mind the hot nights they’d spent together over the last few weeks. The familiar need curled in her belly, urging her to reach for him and tell him to take her back to the hotel so she could make love to him.