“Just a minute, Andre.”
“Don’t take too long or our food will get cold.”
Food?
Without hesitating another instant, she undid the lock and opened the door. He stood there with a large bag in one arm. Her eyes traveled up the slate-blue polo shirt covering his well-defined chest, to the features of his arresting male face. When they reached his eyes, their gazes locked.
She’d never seen him look more attractive or beguiling. The impact of his presence robbed her of breath. If she hadn’t backed out of their wedding at the last second, they’d be married now, enjoying their honeymoon.
Mortified by the way she must look to him, she told him to come in and put the food on the coffee table. “Give me a minute and I’ll be right out.”
“Take all the time you need. I’m not going anywhere.”
If only that were true.
If only he could say that and mean it for the rest of their lives. No doubt her father had said it to her mother in the early stages of their marriage. Everybody said it, but not everybody meant it.
Her hands shook as she brushed her hair. She found a couple of combs and arranged it in a French twist. A little lipstick added some color. Maybe now he wouldn’t recoil when he saw her.
By the time she went back to the living room, he’d turned on the TV and was watching a football game. He’d brought Chinese. It looked and smelled delicious. This morning she’d thought she’d never eat again, but twelve hours later she found she was hungry.
Stop lying to yourself, Fran. It’s Andre’s unexpected presence that has brought you back to life. Enjoy the moment for as long as it lasts because there won’t be many more of them.
When she entered the room, his black eyes swept her body from head to toe. It caused her stomach to flutter. He had a way of making her feel beautiful even when she knew she wasn’t looking her best.
“I like the way you’ve done your hair. You have lovely bones, Francesca.”
She knew he was being sincere. Warmth seeped into her body. “Thank you, but I take no credit. They’re one of my mother’s many contributions.”
“I’m looking forward to meeting her.” He levered himself from the chair. “Come and sit down. I’ve made a plate for you. Since I don’t know your taste in Chinese yet, I brought us a little of everything.” He handed her the food and a can of Coke.
“Thank you.” She took them from him, but couldn’t eat. He spoke as if they were a couple with a future ahead of them. How could he behave like this after what she’d done to him?
“Andre— About last nigh—”
“Last night was my fault,” he interjected in a forbidding voice before swallowing some of his drink. “I take full responsibility for coercing you into something you weren’t ready for.”
Her chest heaved. “I thought I was ready to marry you. I’m so sorry for hurting you.”
His dark eyes impaled her. “Francesca— No apology is necessary. Because of my impatience to be your husband, I rushed you off your feet. I wanted you so badly, I didn’t listen to you in my study when you said you couldn’t make a decision about marrying me in a matter of minutes.
“The fact is, last night I relied on the strong physical chemistry between us to win you around. But it was wrong of me. We need time to get to know each other like this before we marry.”
She shook her head and got to her feet. “You don’t understand, Andre. Time isn’t going to make any difference.” Spending more time with you is going to make me fall deeper in love. I can’t afford to let that happen.
While they’d been talking, she’d watched him consume all his food including the last egg roll. “That’s your fear talking. We’ll just take it a day at a time. Right now that’s about all I can handle.” His words sounded slightly slurred.
“Andre? Are you all right?”
His eyes had closed. “I haven’t been to bed since night before last. Would you mind if I just sat here on your couch for a minute before I go?”
Before Fran could fathom it, he’d gone to sleep. She could tell by the deep, even tenor of his breathing.
It didn’t really surprise her. Not only had he given a huge party, he’d done all the driving last night. Combine that with the emotional trauma they’d both been through and it wasn’t surprising that he would suddenly collapse in her living room.
With her compassion at the forefront, she went in search of bedding for him. “Come on, Andre,” she whispered seconds later. “Lie down.” With a gentle nudge he did as he was told, and she covered him with a quilt. He made a contented sound and stretched a little as if to find a more comfortable position.
She could see he was so far gone he had no idea what was happening. Unable to resist, she sank to her knees to look at him. He appeared more vulnerable in repose. His long black lashes curled at the tips against the slight flush of his hard-boned cheeks. She could detect the shadow of his beard around his firm jaw. If she touched it with her fingertips like she was longing to do, it might waken him.
His mother had bequeathed him all that black, curly hair and olive skin. With a straight nose and compelling mouth reminiscent of the Abbot’s, there wasn’t anything about him that wasn’t perfect to her.
If she were his wife, she would have the right to lie there with him this very instant. She yearned to kiss him until she’d aroused his passion. Just watching him like this kindled the ache inside of her to know his possession.
Her gaze traveled over his strong, virile body. One bronzed, sinewy arm lay loose on top of the quilt. He’d done a lot of hard physical work in his life to be in such amazing shape. Though Andre felt his life was so different from his father’s, Fran could see many similarities.
The monks were renowned for performing hard physical labor from early morning till nightfall. When they weren’t active, they studied. Andre had purchased books on every subject imaginable. He’d obtained a university education she still wanted to hear about.
When she thought of the many places all over the earth he must have visited, she longed to hear about his adventures, especially those at sea. In truth, she wanted to know about every fascinating detail of his life before they’d met.
He was so different from other males of her acquaintance. Men like Howard were blessed with a constant male role model from the cradle. Andre had no masculine influence to teach him who he was, no siblings. Yet in spite of it all, he had grown into a spectacular man of superior intellect and sophisticated tastes.
His aunt had everything to do with that. As far as Fran was concerned, she’d done a superb job. Andre’s kindness to Gerda, his faultless manners spoke of a priceless education which had to have been learned at his aunt’s knee.
But when a boy grew into his teens, he needed other men. It was no mystery why Andre had gone to sea. He’d been in Turkey of all places when he’d first heard his aunt was dying.
If he hadn’t made it to her sickbed in time, he would never have known that his father was alive and living in Salt Lake. Andre wouldn’t be lying here on the couch right now where Fran could feast her eyes on him to her heart’s content.
How strange that it had been Paul’s assignment to go out to the monastery, yet circumstances had forced Fran to conduct the interview instead.
That fateful meeting with Andre had changed her whole life. He was her whole life. But if she married him and then he left her, it would destroy her.
As if she was suddenly too close to a roaring fire, she forced herself to get up and back away from him. Needing something physical to do, she took all the mess out to the kitchen.
Though she hadn’t been hungry before, now she devoured what was left of the tasty food. After she’d eaten and brushed her teeth, she turned out lights and went to bed. She had no idea when Andre would wake up, probably not until she’d dressed and left for work in the morning.
But in that assessment, she was wrong. When she emerged from her bedroom at seven having enjoyed a surprisingly good sl
eep, she saw the folded quilt on the table with the pillow. Evidently Andre had awakened some time during the night and had slipped out of the apartment before her alarm had sounded.
She hated the hollow feeling that always attacked her when she knew he’d gone off. In an effort to counteract the sensation, she went into the kitchen to make toast and pour herself some orange juice. Thank goodness it was a Monday morning. She could wish this one would be hellishly busy so she wouldn’t be tortured by thoughts of him.
Forty-five minutes later she walked into the office. Something was different the second she started back toward her desk. Her eyes zeroed in on a breathtaking arrangement of long-stemmed red roses which dwarfed her desk….
“Three dozen of them,” Paul quipped. “I counted.”
They had the largest heads and were the most beautiful, fragrant flowers she’d ever seen in her life. Her pulse went crazy.
“Hey—don’t just stand there like a zombie. There’s the card.”
“D-Did you see who brought them?”
“A delivery man.”
“But it’s too early for floral deliveries.”
“Evidently not this time.” He grinned. “Come on, Frannie. Don’t keep me in suspense, or do you want me to open the card for you?”
She bit her lip and looked away. “I think I know who sent them.”
“Everyone around here is betting on the monk.”
“That’s not funny, Paul. For one thing, he’s not a monk.”
“Hey—I was only kidding. You must really be wacko about this guy to be so touchy this morning.”
I almost married him night before last. That’s how wacko I am.
She saw that Francesca had been written on the outside of the envelope. No one called her by her full name except Andre.
When she picked it up, she realized it wasn’t flat. Something was inside it besides the card. With pounding heart, she slit the top with her letter opener, then gasped when the gold ring fell onto her desk pad.
Paul let out a low whistle. “Ladies and gentlemen. Will you look at that.”
She picked it up and folded it in her palm. What was Andre thinking?
Gingerly, she drew out the card and read it.
My darling—
Forgive me for falling asleep on you last night. Was I mistaken or did an angel watch over me while I slept?
Wear this ring around your neck until you’re ready to let me put it on your finger. Perhaps if my father had asked the same thing of my mother, they would have spent their lives together instead of apart.
I love you, Francesca.
Andre.
Paul thrust a box of tissues under her nose. “Go ahead. Use as many as you like. Just tell me one thing—Can I announce that you’re officially engaged now?”
“No, Paul!” she cried in fresh anguish. “You don’t understand. Please don’t say a word about this ring to a soul.”
He sobered. “All right. My lips are sealed.”
“Thank you.”
“But you love the guy. I know you do.”
“I don’t deny it,” she whispered heatedly. The ring seemed to burn a brand into her skin.
“Frannie— Not every man out there is a freak of nature. It might surprise you to know that a lot of men are monogamous by choice!”
“I know. You’re one of them.”
“It looks to me like the sailor man has heard your siren’s call. Now he has washed up on your shore. Is it going to be to his doom, Frannie baby?”
“Oh, Paul.”
She shook her head in exasperation and despair. The tears won out. Her shoulders started to shake.
“Uh-oh. Here comes Barney.”
She grabbed another tissue and wiped her eyes.
“Well, well, well. What do we have here?”
Slowly she turned around to face her boss. Without looking at him she said, “Roses from a friend.”
“Anyone I know?”
“They’re from Andre.”
“I would say so. They have his stamp written all over them. You’ve pulled off a major coup. It’s too bad I’m going to have to send you on that assignment to Washington D.C. today. But the rest of us will enjoy his gift while you’re away.”
“What assignment?” She forgot not to look him in the eye.
“You remember the issue we’re doing in the spring about Utahans away from Utah?”
“Yes, of course.” It was a lie. She’d forgotten all about it. Andre’s advent in her life had turned everything upside down.
“I’ve just received permission for you to interview our congressmen. They want you to come this week while they’re still in legislative session. Next week it will be adjourned for Christmas. Now’s our opportunity.”
A week away from home… Would Andre still be here when she got back?
“This won’t be a political piece. We want to give the readers a close-up look at our elected officials going through the daily grind in our nation’s capitol. Most people have no idea what the insides of their offices look like, let alone their hourly schedules. I’m convinced personal interviews with their secretaries and aides will give you the kind of copy we’re looking for.
“Since this is such late notice, you’re free to go home now and get ready. Stop by Emily’s desk on the way out. She has your airline tickets and hotel reservation. Your flight leaves at eleven.”
So soon?
“Hey—’ Barney smiled. “I was only kidding about keeping the flowers here.”
“I’ll help her out with them,” Paul offered “Come on, Frannie. You’ve got to hustle.”
Like a sleepwalker, she put the ring in her purse, then followed Paul through the office to Emily’s desk for her travel documents.
For the first time she could remember, she didn’t want to go on assignment. She didn’t want to go anywhere. But business was business.
The second she got home she put water back in the vase and placed the roses on her coffee table. They were so breathtaking she couldn’t take her eyes off of them.
She phoned her mother to tell her about her plans and ask her to check on her apartment while she was away.
After she put down the receiver, she debated what to do about Andre. She couldn’t leave Salt Lake without acknowledging his gift. Since she had no intention of keeping the ring, she decided she would drive by his house and give it to him in person. That way she could thank him for the flowers at the same time.
When he answered his door twenty minutes later, fresh-shaven and dressed in jeans and a charcoal turtleneck, she had to fight with herself not to stare at him like she’d done last night while he was asleep.
“Good morning,” he murmured huskily, his eyes playing over her upturned features with heartthrobbing intensity. “I’d hoped to see you later in the day. To find you on my doorstep this early is a pleasure I hadn’t anticipated. Come in.”
“I-I can’t, Andre. I’m on my way to the airport.”
Lines darkened his face as he straightened from a lounging position. “You’ve been sent on an assignment?”
“Yes. Washington D.C. I just stopped by for a minute to thank you for the magnificent ros—”
“Why don’t we talk about that while I drive you to the airport in my car. I’ll keep yours here in the garage where it will be safe until you get back.”
She protested on a small moan. “Much as I appreciate the offer, I don’t want to put you out, Andre. You’ve done more than you should already.”
“If you recall,” he reminded her with an edge to his tone, “you told me when we got back from Elko that you wanted me to do what I wanted to do. Did I misunderstand you?”
She averted her eyes from his piercing regard. “No, but I didn’t mean that you should wait on me hand and foot either.”
“I like doing things for you. It fills my life with purpose. Come in for a moment while I grab my keys and wallet from the bedroom. Then we’ll go.”
Against her better judgement, she s
tepped inside and once again found herself awed by the charm of his home, not to mention the fabulous furnishings he’d purchased throughout his many travels.
He slid his arm around her shoulders and drew her close. “Let’s go in the living room where you’ll be more comfortable,” he whispered against her temple.
As they walked, their hips and thighs brushed intimately together. She feared he could feel the quaking of her body.
“Oh—” Fran let out a hushed cry when she caught sight of Natalie Cairns walking toward them. She had no idea he had company. “Hello, Mrs. Cairns.”
“Good morning,” the other woman said brightly.
“Look, Andre— Obviously you’re busy, so—”
“Not at all,” he said in a smooth tone, still holding her fast. “Natalie is here to see Gerda. Darling, did I tell you the Richters have bought a house and will be moving into it before Christmas?”
“No. I didn’t know that.” It meant Andre would be alone again. Her heart sank to her feet. How long would he stay in Salt Lake once Gerda and her family were settled elsewhere? “That’s wonderful,” she muttered because something was expected of her.
“I can hear Gerda coming down the stairs now,” Natalie said. “Nice to see both of you again.”
CHAPTER NINE
ANDRE LISTENED FOR their footsteps until he heard the front door close. “I don’t know about you, but I have to have this, or I won’t be able to function.” He pulled Francesca into his arms, needing her kiss like he needed air to breathe.
“No, Andre!” she blurted, trying to avoid his mouth while she pushed her hands against his chest. “We don’t have time. Besides, I-I can’t think when you touch me, and there’s something I need to talk to you about.”
He continued to rain kisses along the side of her neck, his arms still holding her. “I don’t want you to think. That’s when you get into trouble,” he whispered the words in a teasing tone.
She hid her face from him. “Please, Andre,” she said, her voice trembling. “This is serious. It’s about your ring. I can’t accept it.”
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