Husband Potential

by Rebecca Winters

  Natalie broke into a full-bodied smile. “Another year or two and I’ll be happy to find you something equally beautiful. In the meantime, let me give you my card before you leave the party, and we’ll get together this week. My purse is upstairs. If you’ll excuse me for a minute, Dr. Barker. I’ll be right back.” She whispered something against Andre’s cheek before dashing off.

  Her familiarity with him was almost more than Fran could bear. She needed to be alone to get some composure back.

  “Howard? While you’re waiting for her, why don’t I go in the dining room and fix us a couple of plates.”

  “Good idea. I’ll join you in a minute.”

  Without looking at either man, she hurried through the tall French doors off the foyer leading to the dining room. It had an old-world, medieval charm with its high ceiling and arched beams. A tapestry hung over one wall.

  She sucked in her breath at the beauty of the standing candelabras and tapers, the magnificent table with its centerpiece of flowers and greenery. A Christmas tree stood in one corner, covered with tiny red lights and adorable hand-painted, wooden ornaments.

  With such fabulous furnishings and food, it was no wonder everyone lingered to talk and eat. Andre had provided a veritable feast. She’d come to the party with an appetite, but it had deserted her the second she’d seen him.

  “Gerda made all these dishes. Try her apple and cinnamon strudel. It’s an old family recipe to die for,” Andre murmured near her ear.

  At the sound of his low voice, Fran almost dropped the plate she was preparing for Howard. Without conscious thought she lifted her gaze to his.

  “What’s going on, Andre?” she cried in a tremulous voice. “The last time we were together, you led me to believe I would never see you again. I presumed you had gone back to sea.” She bit her lip in an effort to tamp down her emotions. “N-Now I find you here, ensconced in this beautiful home with Gerda and her family as your houseguests.”

  “Do you like the things I’ve acquired over the years?” he asked in a smooth tone. “I thought why not uncrate my treasures and find a permanent place for them. They go well in this house, don’t you think?”

  Fran had trouble catching her breath. “You don’t need me to answer that question,” she said, her voice trembling. “Please, Andre,” she begged. “Tell me the truth. Why have you done all this?”

  He studied her through shuttered eyes so she couldn’t read their expression. “You know damn well why.” His voice carried the sting of a whiplash. “You’re the only reason I’ve settled in Salt Lake.”

  Her eyes widened at his bald honesty. “But—”

  “But—” he interrupted before she could say anything else “—I didn’t tell you everything on my mind the last time we were together because, if you recall, you intimated you had come to the monastery to end things with me on a civil note. You also said there was an important man in your life. Dr. Barker is that man, isn’t he?”

  Like lightning, he’d changed the subject. Her heart raced faster. She would be a liar if she said no. “I’ve known Howard since I was a little girl.”

  “You two look good together. He has the right family, all the right credentials. I can see in his eyes he’s crazy about you.”

  Stop, Andre.

  “When you’ve been at sea with as many different kinds of men as I have over the years, you learn to read them very well. I like Dr. Barker. I think you’ve met your match, Francesca. If I were a betting man, I would wager he’ll be faithful to you to the end of your days.”

  She was shaking so hard, she had to put the plate down.

  “Does he know I’m the man he was worried about?”

  “After tonight, I’m sure he does.”

  “How so?”

  “You know why,” she whispered heatedly. “Until I saw you standing behind Gerda, I had no idea this was your house, or that Barney and I had been invited to your party. Howard couldn’t have helped but notice my shock.”

  “He handled it admirably.”

  “Please, can we stop talking about him.”

  “Of course,” he said with enviable quiescence. “What would you like to talk about?”

  She averted her eyes. “W-We don’t need to talk about anything. You have dozens of guests whom you’re neglecting.”

  “I’d rather talk to you. If the truth be known, I’d rather do a great deal more to you than talk. It’s been a long time, Francesca,” he said, his voice grating.

  Dear God.

  “How can you say that to me?” she muttered furiously because he’d touched upon the one subject that kept her awake nights.

  “I may be many things, but I’m not a man to lie about my feelings. I wanted you from the moment you walked in the monastery gift shop. I still want you.” By now her whole body was trembling. “In my gut I know you want me too,” he said huskily.

  “So does Natalie Cairns,” she fired at him because she was in so much pain.

  “I needed a real estate agent. She was invited to this party as my way of repaying her for her hard work. After tonight, I won’t be seeing her again. You’re the only woman I’m interested in.”

  “For how long?” she cried, hugging her arms to her waist.

  A palpable tension leaped between them. “I could ask you the same question. Do you honestly think women have the monopoly on that fear? Do you have any idea how many married sailors who’ve been true to their wives have hurried home to them after a long stint at sea only to find them in their own bed with another man?”

  His question was one she’d never given any real thought to before. Her head reared back so she could look at him. “You think I could be capable of doing that?”

  A grimace marred his attractive features. “I have no idea,” he said in all solemnity.

  They stared long and hard at each other until she admitted, “I-I realize there are no guarantees.”

  “A man and a woman who are strong enough, come together willing to take the risk. My parents slept with each other one last time knowing full well they would never see each other again.

  “My father’s heart was torn because he loved her, yet he felt called to the priesthood. My mother knew this and unselfishly kept the knowledge of her pregnancy to herself. Because they risked, she died giving birth to me.”

  “Oh, Andre—” she cried softly, her heart melting for the little boy inside him who’d grieved for the parents he’d been denied. “I don’t know how you’ve been able to bear your father’s death as well as you have.”

  “It’s because we made our peace with each other before he died. Would that you and your father will be able to do the same one day, no matter what he did to you.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t want to see him.”

  “I felt the same way when Aunt Maudelle confessed on her deathbed that my father was still alive somewhere in the world. It means putting your feelings at risk once more.”

  “You’re obviously stronger than I am.”

  “Don’t be deceived,” he warned in a grave voice. “I’ve been living for the moment when you walked through my front door. If you touched me right now, you would feel me trembling. That’s how much I desire you.”

  Heat flooded her face. Her emotions were so traumatized, it was impossible to articulate with any coherence. “Andre— I thin—”

  “Fran?”

  At the sound of her name being called out with some urgency, she jerked around with a guilty start. Howard walked swiftly toward her. “While I was discussing condos with Natalie, I got a call on my beeper and have to leave for the hospital. My patient’s about ready to deliver. Barney will run you home.”

  Afraid of being left alone with Andre she said, “I’m coming with you.”

  He shook his head. “I have no idea how long I’ll be. I’d rather you stayed here and enjoyed the party.”

  Though he would never have let on, she could tell Howard was upset. He extended his hand to Andre. “Thank you for your hospi
tality. Sorry I have to rush out.”

  “I understand. Thank you for coming,” came the bland reply.

  “Fran?” Howard gave her an enigmatic glance. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  She would have asked him to phone her later tonight, but with Andre standing there hearing every word, the tension was so palpable she had a feeling Howard would rebuff that suggestion as well.

  “I’ll be waiting. I hope everything goes well.”

  He nodded to both of them before walking off.

  As soon as he’d left the dining room she heard Andre say, “Being an obstetrician’s wife will have its challenges, but then every worthwhile relationship requires sacrifice.”

  Fran’s jaw hardened. “If you’ll excuse me—”

  “Where do you think you’re going so fast?” In the next instant, he had caught hold of her wrist.

  “Please let go of me,” she cried in panic because his touch had ignited her senses. “People will notice.”

  “They won’t if you don’t make a scene. Now tell me why you’re so angry.”

  “Because you planned all this!”

  “You can lay a lot of blame at my feet, but I don’t have the kind of power to send a woman into labor on cue.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “If you’re referring to this party, then you’re right. I gave it to help Gerda and her family feel more at home. They’re people in a strange country who want to belong. I know the feeling well.”

  There he went again, trying to arouse her compassion.

  “But if I’d known it was your house, I would never have come,” she said through clenched teeth.

  “You knew Gerda was a dear friend of mine,” he inserted sinuously. “Can you honestly stand there and tell me you didn’t hope I might be here too?”

  Her breath caught. “If I did, then it was subconscious,” she admitted with reluctance. “Otherwise I would never have invited Howard to come with me. He’s the last person in the world I would want to hurt.”

  “If there were nothing between you and me, he couldn’t be hurt. But as we all learned tonight, the truth can no longer be ignored.” He seemed to be holding his emotions barely in check. “I’m taking you home later.”

  Her legs started to shake. “No, Andre. I’m leaving with Barney.”

  “You do that and I’ll follow you in my car.”

  “You can’t abandon your guests!” she cried out aghast.

  “Watch me.”

  “Andre— Please—”

  “Say that to me when we’re alone, and I’ll put us both out of our misery. Now I suggest you go in the other room and let your boss know you have another way home. Or shall I do it for you?”

  All the while he was talking, he smoothed his thumb over her palm before letting her hand go. She didn’t know if it was deliberate or not, but it sent a message her body couldn’t ignore.

  With her heart tripping over itself, she practically ran from the dining room in her haste to put distance between them.

  By the time she found Barney standing in Andre’s living room talking to a group of people, she was out of breath.

  As soon as her boss saw her, he started toward her and chuckled. “I wish you could have seen the look on your face a little while ago. It would make a great front cover.”

  Barney saw too much.

  She cleared her throat. “Where’s Reba?”

  “In the ladies’ room. She spilled punch on her dress and wanted to get the worst of it out before it dried. Since we’re alone for the moment, why don’t you tell me why you allowed that lovely thing in red to corner Howard before he left for the hospital.”

  “I didn’t allow anything!” she retorted defensively. “After he learned she was a Realtor, he was the one who wanted to discuss business with her.”

  Barney appeared to ponder her response before he said, “As soon as Reba comes back, we’ll leave together and I’ll drive you home.”

  “Actually, I’ve already been offered a ride, but thank you anyway,” she said in a small voice. There was no use lying to Barney. He knew everything anyway.

  After a pause, “Mr. Benet’s methods are unorthodox to say the least, but they produce results. He has accomplished what I didn’t expect to see happen in my lifetime.”

  “What are you talking about?” she snapped.

  “Why don’t you tell me at the office on Monday morning, if you dare. Good-night, Frannie.”

  He gave her a peck on the cheek before leaving her alone to contemplate the rest of the night ahead of her with fear and apprehension.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  IN A KIND OF DAZE, Fran found herself staring at a photograph placed next to the one she’d given Andre of his distinguished father.

  The young, dark-haired woman in the picture had long black hair and dark-fringed black eyes, identical to Andre’s.

  His mother was breathtaking. Just like her son.

  Seeing her likeness helped Fran to imagine how hard it must have been for Andre’s father to give her up. But give her up, he did, thus denying both mother and son the joy of family.

  How sad that she had died without being able to raise her perfect little boy and watch him grow into such an incredibly attractive man.

  Drawn to everything about Andre, she moved to the other end of the room to look at a grouping of small photographs on an Italian provincial credenza.

  Andre, her heart cried out as she recognized the promise of the man in his boyish features. He’d probably been nine or ten when the picture was taken. In shorts and a shirt, he stood hand in hand with an older woman who was probably his aunt. He appeared tall for his age.

  She picked up the other two photographs both taken at the same time. Neither he or his aunt smiled in any of them. Fran ached for the pain he and his entire family had been forced to endure.

  Afraid the tears would start, she put the pictures back and hurried from the living room, anxious to find a place to be alone. As the far end of the hall she glimpsed a library through the French doors which were ajar.

  Consumed by her need to know everything about Andre, she peeked inside. To her relief, no one else was there. With relief, she closed the doors and went over to the closest bookshelf which stretched from floor to ceiling.

  Among other things, Andre appeared to be a history buff. She pulled out a tome on the Romans. From the Gracchi to Nero.

  Unlike some nouveau riche who created a room in a home like this for show, he’d spent many years at sea and had probably read every book in sight. His choice of reading material was one of the differences she could see about him from his father.

  While Fran had been doing some research on Abbot Ambrose in the archives at Catholic church headquarters, she’d discovered that he’d been a scholar who, in addition to having written many treatises of his own for publication, had built up an enviable library of religious texts for the monastery.

  Losing track of time, she thumbed through the book in her hand, then reached for another, fascinated by this treasure-trove of information.

  Without having sensed that anyone was in the library with her, she suddenly felt masculine hands slide on to her shoulders and knead them with gentle pressure.

  “Andre—” she cried out softly. In the next instant, the book she’d been holding slipped to the parquet floor.

  “I’m glad you found a subject to interest you,” he whispered as his lips kissed the side of her neck. “But now that we’re finally alone, I can think of something infinitely more satisfying for both of us. Lord—to finally have you in my arms like this—”

  His hands moved down her arms to her hips, then slid around to her stomach, molding her to his strong, hard body. This time there was no car door separating them.

  Moaning her need, she turned helplessly in his arms and lifted her mouth to find the scorching ecstasy of his. The second it closed over hers she was once again lost in an explosion of desire that rocked her to the very foundations.

&
nbsp; Without conscious thought she wrapped her arms around his neck, desperate to get as close to him as their clothes and bodies would allow.

  “I want you, Francesca,” he murmured huskily, kissing her eyes, her nose, her ears, her neck and mouth over and over again, until they were moving and breathing as living extensions of each other.

  “These months of seeing you for only a few minutes at a time, unable to do anything about the ache growing inside of me, have driven me out of my mind. I want you more than anything I’ve ever wanted in my life.”

  Fran had no defense against that kind of admission because she felt the same way. Something told her he wasn’t lying. “I-I want you too, Andre,” her voice trembled, “But—”

  His deep groan of satisfaction ignored her protest. Caressing her arms he whispered, “Stay the night with me, darling. The guests and the help have left the house. Gerda and her family have gone upstairs to bed.”

  The temptation to do whatever he wanted took her to the very edge of sanity. But at the last second she cried, “Much as I want to sleep with you, Andre, I-I couldn’t!”

  “Why?” he demanded, staring down at her out of dark eyes glazed with passion while his hands still held her in place. “I realize you’re an innocent. I would never do anything you didn’t want me to do. Don’t you know I would never hurt you?”

  Fran knew that. “You don’t understand. That’s not the reason, Andre.”

  “Then it’s because you’re afraid I’ll be gone again when you wake up in the morning.”

  “No!” She averted her eyes, trying unsuccessfully to hide the truth from his probing gaze.

  “You’re lying, Francesca, but I have a solution, one I’ve been thinking about for some time. We’ll drive to Nevada and get married tonight.”

  Fran gasped as her heart turned over. She lifted her head and gazed up helplessly at him. “Married—”

  He kissed her astounded mouth with a hunger to match the clamoring needs of her body. “I would have proposed first. But knowing of your distrust of men, I thought you would tell me that the only way you would come willingly to my bed was to have a short-term affair with no promises or expectations.”