by Dee, Bonnie
Candace felt bereft, as if the air she desperately needed to stay alive had been sucked from her lungs. “But…” she whimpered.
“Not like this,” Alain repeated in English. His rasping voice betrayed his hunger, but he shook his head and backed further away. “There will be time in the future for everything.” His gaze told Candace what everything meant—the private act which Rose had explained to her. “But my divorce is not yet finalized, and we should consider what comes next.”
She crossed her arms to hide the diamond points straining against her bodice. Her body hummed with invisible signals like a telegraph wire. Every inch of her skin tingled feverishly. “I believe talking is overrated, and I don’t care about the legality of our… union.
Alain frowned. “When we finally make love, I want it to mean more than a flash of heat in the blood. Naturally I am attracted to you, but I also… Je te tiens en haute estime. Esteem. Is that the right word?”
Candace nodded, although she could have done with a little less esteem and a more touching and kissing just then. “I feel the same. I admire you very much, Alain.”
“And I could easily say ‘I love you’ but we have known each other for such a brief time.”
Candace landed in reality with a thud. Pure lust turned to a quieter sort of joy at his words.
“That same feeling propelled me to France,” she said quietly. “Even fearing my trip would be in vain, I felt compelled to confess me feelings to you.”
He stepped toward her again as if he could not bear to have space between them. “Soon, ma chère, we will both be free to act upon our feelings. My solicitor tells me the proceeding should not take longer than a month. In the meantime, may I court you in a most old-fashioned and reserved manner?”
“Please do.” Candace recalled what she had meant to say when they met. “I am so happy your wife is no longer threatening to take Vivienne from you. And I pray it is not too improper to congratulate you on your impending divorce.”
Alain leaned against the edge of the counter, arms folded as if to keep from losing control again. “Will you be willing to risk society’s disapproval by linking yourself with a divorced man?”
“I don’t care that”—she snapped her fingers—“for society’s opinion.”
“Not even if scandal taints your business?”
“Does it bother you?” she asked. “For our fortunes are tied together in this shop.”
“Not at all. In fact, the only matter that gives me concern is that of distance.”
“Living in two different countries is no minor problem. My recent trip assured me of that.” Candace moved a small candy button around the countertop with her finger. She’d given hours of thought to how she and Alain might overcome this seemingly insurmountable hurdle and had yet to come up with a solution that would please them both.
Alain continued, “While we come to know each other better, I will rent a flat here in London. There is much reorganization I must perform at the factory just now, but I will visit whenever I am able and stay for as long as I can.”
“What about Vivienne? The interruption in her life could be upsetting.”
“I will bring her sometimes but not always. That is the best plan I could come up with to start with. Beyond that, you and I must overcome these difficulties together.”
Her spirits rose and flew like bright birds simply knowing he had pictured their future together just as she had. Surely they could surmount any obstacles in their path.
“Words cannot convey how much I appreciate the great effort you would go to for me. I will do everything I can to meet you halfway, even literally, in Paris.”
Candace regarded Alain across the counter top. “There will always be more to talk about, but right now we are alone, the shop is closed, and the entire evening lays before us. I am tired of pretending otherwise when all I want is you.” Alain frowned. “But you are—I would not wish to go too far with a woman inexperienced in lovemaking.”
“I am a virgin,” Candace admitted bluntly. “But there are other things we might do, which Rose told me about. We might go upstairs for a bit and become more… familiar.”
He grinned. “God bless your friend Rose.” He offered his hand. “If you’re sure…?”
Candace abandoned the candy button to take his hand. “I am.”
Chapter Eighteen
His knuckles brushed her back as he lifted her chemise over her head and tossed it aside. Candace quivered like a horse impatient to race at his touch. She breathed in little gasps. Her flesh felt sensitive almost to the point of painfulness as Alain slowly stripped her to the waist. Every whisper of fabric leaving her body was because she chose this and craved it. And when Alain stood before her, studying her bare body intently, Candace remained erect and proud, happy to receive the hungry approval she saw in his dark eyes. Here in her room, sitting on the edge of her own bed, she was in charge.
Alain had removed his shirt at some point but not the vest beneath it. The sleeveless undergarment gave an enticing view of his muscular arms, but she needed to see more of him.
“Take off your vest,” she commanded.
As he removed it, the lean stretch of arms and torso sent a fresh stab of arousal through her. The pulsing feeling between her legs grew more intense. This must be what Rose had referred to when explaining lovemaking. Usually one reaches a tipping point where the body rules the mind, and you either surrender to it or step back from the edge. Keep in mind the line you have chosen beyond which you will not step. Do you see?
She hadn’t at the time, but Candace realized now it might be quite difficult to stick to her borderline for her body demanded Alain’s body on hers—in hers—with every beat of her heart.
*
They should not have taken off so much clothing, Alain thought. It was one thing to fondle through fabric or even slip a hand under a blouse to feel the delights of her body. But once clothes were shed, his desire for Candace increased a thousand-fold. The beauty of her full breasts, rounded shoulders and the delightful curve into her hips was only part of the attraction. The lady’s unabashed desire was what turned his inner stove up to an unbearable heat.
Candace held out her arms and ordered as imperiously as a queen, “Come.”
Alain took a breath and exhaled slowly, steadying himself to focus on this woman rather than the basic needs of his long-starved libido. As wise Rose had pointed out, there was plenty of joy to be had in touching, stroking and… other things. He moved closer to Candace, enfolding her in his arms and holding her close. Mine, now and forever. His primitive mind claimed. “Let us lie on your bed. I will show you some things you might enjoy.”
She drew back the counterpane and positioned herself, then looked up at him expectantly.
As he stripped off everything but his drawers and lay down beside her, Alain vowed to be worthy of the precious trust Candace placed in him and to give her the greatest pleasure he could.
*
With her petticoat lifted over her hips, Candace shivered but not from cold. Anticipation of Alain’s next touch made every nerve ending vibrate like antennae inclining toward him, the source of pleasure. Each whisper of his hands across her bare skin was a revelation, every spot where he kissed her was branded by heat.
Her eyes would have drifted closed from the sheer pleasure of his hand creeping ever nearer the throbbing spot between her legs. But she could not look away from the play of muscles in his shoulders, arms, and torso. Her gaze raked over his hard masculine body, and the mere sight aroused her even more. The dark trail of hair from navel to the top of his drawers positively transfixed her. When she reached to trace a finger down that trail to the intriguing mysterious bulge below, Alain gently moved it away. “Someday, ma chérie, but not just now. I don’t know if I could hold back if you touched me there. Please, relax and allow me to tend to you.”
Then he bent to kiss her with an intensity that melted her like chocolate heated to drizzle over ripe strawbe
rries. When he had finished turning her bones to jelly, he moved lower to graze her neck, chest, and then her breasts. At length his lips encircled a nipple and he sucked it into warmth and wetness.
Candace gasped sharply and closed her eyes at last, engulfed in deep velvet blackness sprinkled with shooting stars.
*
Candace’s skin smelled like strawberries in the sun on a warm day—he must find out what perfume she wore—as Alain suckled one breast then the other. Her whimpers were his reward, and when he had collected enough of them, he glided his mouth down her ribcage and belly.
He sculpted the soft taper of her waist with his hands, then loosened the ribbon of her drawers and moved very slowly beneath, giving her time to acclimate to his touch on her private area.
When she made a small sound he interpreted as unease, Alain stopped. “All right? I will stop if you do not like it.”
Another strangled gulp and she replied, “Don’t you dare! Please, I beg of you, keep on.”
He lowered his head and hands to follow her bidding.
Many years had passed since he had performed this act. He’d known how to please Geneviève without receiving any of her customary suggestions for improvement. The bedroom had been the one place where she put her faith in him.
But that was years ago. He banished any memories of his ex-wife and immersed himself in all things Candace: her shifting and moaning, her hips lifting into his touch. Joy rushed through him as he made love to the woman he was quite certain was the true love of his life.
*
No wonder all of society worked so hard to keep girls ignorant and fearful of sexual acts. If word got out how absolutely delightful they were, all control over the pure white roses of feminine virtue would soon be lost. This thought darted through Candace’s mind just before she lost all rational, conscious thought.
Alain’s fingers and then his mouth caressed between her legs, at first brushing and then finding a particular point that radiated like sunrays through her entire body. It took very little of his stroking to engulf her body in explosive light. She bucked up off the bed as if she might fly away.
When she returned to herself, her fingers were threaded through Alain’s hair, gripping his head. She let go with a gasp. “Oh! I am so—”
His eyes twinkled as he moved to lay beside her. “Pleased?”
“Incroyable! I had no idea such things could…occur.” She pressed a hand to her chest and felt the rapid beating of her runaway heart. “Is it always that way? And how do you take pleasure from it?”
“My pleasure is your pleasure,” he proclaimed gallantly. “There are things I can do to ease my tension.”
She rolled to face him. “Show me how I might do for you what you have done for me. I am ready.”
“Are you quite sure?”
“Oh yes. What’s sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander.”
“You British have such odd sayings.”
“Let me show you what it means.” She slid her hand down his chest and over his stomach to the hard column beneath his drawers. “I will touch you now, and you must tell me if I’m doing it right.”
*
“You’re doing it right,” Alain proclaimed before she’d even gotten her hand under the fabric.
And when she grasped his cock, he announced with a gasp, “You’re really doing it right.”
He reached down to guide her hand up and down, demonstrating the strength and pace he liked. But his tension was already so great it did not take many strokes for him to climax. He grunted and unleashed a stream of curses in French.
“Oh, my!” Candace’s soft exclamation at the result of her effort prompted his laughter. Once started, Alain could not stop laughing until he was breathlessly gasping.
Alain regarded the charming woman who stared back at him with an expression caught somewhere between hurt and humor. “Is that… normal?”
“Laughing out loud? I assure you it is not.” He pulled her close and kissed the furrow in her brow. “Your technique was flawless. I am laughing at my lack of restraint. It has been many years so I was not able to hold back. You know how a steam engine may explode if the valve is not released now and then?”
“Ah. I see. Then I am glad I was able to release your, um, valve.” She emitted a snort of laughter.
Alain grabbed her and drew her close. “Miss Sweet, you are a wonder. Thank you for inviting me to your bed, and even more so into your life. I believe this is the beginning of a beautiful partnership.”
Candace settled against his chest. “I believe it is.” The last thing she recalled was the steady thumping of his heart in her ear as she drifted off to sleep.
Chapter Nineteen
Two weeks later
Vivienne tugged on Candace’s sleeve and whispered, “Miss Sweet, the bride isn’t wearing a white gown and doesn’t even have a long veil!” Vivienne looked up at Candace accusingly as if she had planned the affair and come up short.
“Miss Glover chose lilac and prefers a more tailored look without lace or flounces,” Candace whispered back. “Hush now. I want to hear the exchange of vows.”
She turned her attention to Hattie, elegant in the fitted peplum jacket and ankle length skirt. Her hat, unadorned by feathers or flowers, perched on the front of her head, revealing an elaborate coiffure in back. The lack of a veil afforded a view of her shining eyes as she faced her groom.
Beside her, Guy, well-dressed on his worst day, looked positively dashing as he gave a dazzling smile and placed the ring on her finger. During the exchange of vows, Candace physically felt their mutual admiration and depth of commitment to one another.
Candace regarded Alain, sitting beside her. His intent focus on the bridal couple gave her freedom to study his profile undetected. There was no denying his features were handsome, but much more physical attraction drew her to him. Perhaps she felt so in tune with Hattie and Guy’s mutual adoration because the same emotion flowered in her. She and Alain’s plan to take their time courting before coming to a decision about their future seemed like wasted time. She wanted him, and Vivienne, in her life now. Waiting a month, several months, a year, would not alter that feeling. But did Alain share her view?
That evening, after the wedding reception ended, Candace had decided she would share her thoughts and see how Alain received them. For the present, Candace returned her attention to the moment when everyone rose to celebrate the new Mr. and Mrs. Guy Hardy.
Guy and Harriet Hardy. Hattie’s voice reminded her. I will certainly not be addressed as if I were no more than an appendage, thank you very much.
When the minister made the same mistake in presenting the couple, Harriet quietly corrected him while Rose and Candace exchanged a grin.
Outside the chapel, a small party of witnesses—Rose and Will, Lord and Lady Carmody who were as dear to Guy as parents, Candace, Alain and Vivienne—showered the couple with rose petals from flowers grown in Will’s conservatory.
Rose elbowed Will in the ribs. “I suppose we’re next. Between the holiday season and spring weddings, I should think. Not much call for flowers in the dead of winter so we could take time to travel somewhere warm for our honeymoon.”
“I would marry you right now while the chapel is still warm and before the minister leaves,” Will declared. “My parents are on hand to witness the ceremony. But I suppose we must wait until yours are present as well.”
“Not on your bloody life will my mad family be invited to our wedding,” Rose vowed.
“We shall see.” Will pressed a kiss to her temple before whispering something in her ear that made Rose laugh.
Hattie and Guy took a moment to speak with their close friends prior to leaving for the reception; a larger one than Hattie had wanted, but smaller than Guy would have chosen.
A couple must always be willing to compromise, Candace thought. But honestly, how could one find middle ground concerning where one lived? Alain had secured a flat in London, but shuttling back
and forth between France and England was wearing on him and would not work in the long run. It would be easier for him and especially for Vivienne if Candace relocated to Marcoussis. She could sell her shop and perhaps open one in France.
“You’re looking thoughtful,” Hattie remarked as she accepted Candace’s well-wishes. “What is on your mind?”
“Nothing at all. I was simply thinking you make a beautiful bride and I’ve never seen Guy happier—which is saying a lot since he’s always a jolly fellow.”
“I like your gown, Mrs. Glover,” Vivienne complimented. “Lilac is one of my favorite colors, even if it isn’t really meant for brides. And your hat is very fetching. Will you make me one someday?”
“I certainly will. Perhaps a sailor hat with navy blue ribbons down the back. Would you like that?”
Vivienne squinted. “I don’t know. I was thinking of something red. When you are back from your wedding trip, I’ll visit your shop.”
“Oh, we won’t be going just yet. I’m far too busy this time of year.”
“No wedding trip!” Vivienne appeared horrified. “What is the point of marrying then?”
Hattie leaned close to share a secret. “I rather like the man,” she said in a stage whisper.
Guy had joined them, his hand lingering on Hattie’s waist as if he could not bear to be far from her. He glowered at Vivienne. “Are you telling my wife she’s made a mistake?” he challenged gruffly. “Now see here. I had a hard enough time pinning her down. Don’t make her doubt her decision.”
Vivienne looked uncertain. “I apologize, Mr. Hardy. I did not mean to be rude.”
His scowl turned to a grin. “Only teasing. Don’t mind me. Now, will you save me a dance later, Miss Vivienne?”
As charmed as anyone on whom Guy affixed his attention, she nodded. “I will. Only it must be early, for Nounou Bernard is taking me back to our flat after only an hour.”
He winked. “Perhaps we might get her to stay and enjoy a little dancing too.”
