by Loyd, Sandy
She eyed him for a quick moment. Her memory hadn’t done him justice. He cut a dashing figure in his formal attire. Tall and broad shouldered with chiseled features and dark brown hair, he stood out in a room among other men.
Despite his claim that he saved her, Giselle’s good sense returned instantly. She took a step back in another attempt to leave.
Her spine stiffened when his vice-like grip kept her in place. She could only sputter, “You, monsieur, are rude and insufferable.”
He tipped his head. “Guilty as charged.”
Unable to tamp down her irritation, she snapped, “I do not want to dance with you, so please unhand me.”
“Stay still, you’ll cause a scene.” He continued waltzing as if she hadn’t spoken. “You wouldn’t want to scare away all the other fishes, now would you?” He paused until she glanced at him. “I’m in awe of your talents.”
His amusement only annoyed her further and she flashed daggers of ice with her stare, in hopes of chilling him.
Yet all he did was raise an eyebrow and say, “How do you do it? How do you keep them all waiting to be ensnared? And then, when you throw one back after catching another, how do you keep him circling, waiting to be caught again? ’Tis truly a skill.”
As quickly as it erupted, her anger died, and laughter bubbled up to replace it. She knew what she was and had no qualms when someone pointed it out to her. That it was Simon doing the pointing shouldn’t interest her. But it did.
“Oui, so I like parties and dancing, and of course I love the attention of so many men. Who would not?” She paused and peeked up at him. “I am sure you have just as many admirers.”
The man’s genuine smile transformed his face. He was still rugged and dangerous looking, but now there was a devilish quality about him that played havoc on Giselle’s tummy. His amused gaze seemed too knowing and sent a thrill down her spine that spread to all of her extremities.
Mon Dieu! He was more than dangerous and she needed to be wary.
“No, Giselle. I’m never in one place long enough to gather admirers.”
Giselle couldn’t help but return his smile, unconcerned that he’d used her given name. She was enjoying the exchange, as well as the dance. Too much. “That is because their fathers probably cautioned them about men such as you, just as my father warned me.”
Simon’s face took on a stunned expression. “Really?” His arrogance slipped a notch.
Not wanting to hurt his feelings, she quickly added, “He was just trying to sway me from acting foolish.”
“There’s more to this story,” he said, his smile returning. “Isn’t there?”
“It is not nice to point out one’s follies.” Giselle gritted her teeth and admitted, “Apparently special agents such as yourself do not make the best suitors. I was instructed to forget about you.”
“And did you?”
The heat in his voice warmed her insides. So did the look in his eyes when his gaze landed on hers after taking a brief trip to her bodice.
“Of course.” She quickly averted her eyes to glance at the dancers around them. He’d never know that she compared every man she’d met since to him. They all came up lacking. Everyone except Bradford Tyler, who’d caught her attention earlier. She smiled.
Her stiff posture relaxed and she allowed Simon to spin her around the room. He danced divinely, never stepping on her toes as too many had already done.
“What brings you to Louisville,” she asked, too curious to contain the bold question.
“My, aren’t we nosy?” He seized her gaze once more.
“Pardonnez-moi. That was rude of me.” She cleared her throat as heat rushed to her cheeks. Her father had always encouraged her to speak her mind, much to her mother’s dismay. Since coming to Kentucky, she’d had a hard time with the strictures of the local culture, so different from Paris. She cared little for public opinion. Most of the women who might chastise her were also intent on having her family money gracing their coffers, which is why they tolerated her boldness. They might not be so quick to do so if they knew Giselle wasn’t enamored with any of their sons and was in no hurry to marry. Funny, but she did care what Simon thought. “Am I forgiven?”
“That depends.” His warm, silky voice wafted past her ears.
“On what, monsieur?” She kept her tone even, hoping he wouldn’t pick up on the way her heart skipped beats.
“On whether you’ll let me escort you in to dinner.”
“Non, I shouldn’t,” she said quickly, shaking her head. “You ask too much.”
Simon’s lips turned into a devilish grin. “Don’t you want my forgiveness?”
The seductive whisper traveled all the way to her insides, which along with the accompanying gleam in his eyes, spread heat throughout her being. Somehow that look made her feel as if he were a cougar on the hunt and she was his prey.
“I think I can live without it,” she murmured breathlessly, working to still her racing heart.
“Why? What can it hurt?”
Not expecting the disappointment in his tone, she offered one of her best coquettish smiles and answered honestly, not wanting to hurt his feelings. “Because you are much too dangerous for someone as simple as me. Non, I think it would be very foolish indeed to have dinner with such a dangerous man.”
Simon’s bark of laughter rang in the air, causing other dancers to turn and stare. He ignored them. “Oh, and you’re not dangerous? Surely you can give me some small reward for swimming these waters, trying very hard to avoid your hook.”
“Come now,” Giselle said in a voice full of merriment. “Such a silly statement. As if someone like me could hook a fish such as you.”
“You doubt I find you attractive?”
“Non. Let us just say you swim in deeper waters and I recognize the fact. After all, I am but a simple country girl, n’est-ce pas?”
“Country girl, maybe, but simple, no.” Not bothering to bank the heated fire in his eyes, he lowered his gaze to her mouth as his lips curled into a devilish smile that only added to his daring appeal. “I see nothing simple about you. And as far as swimming goes, my dear, you invented the game.”
Having no reply, Giselle remained silent.
“How ’bout it, chérie?” Seductive tones floated in her ear and sent another thrill through her. Goose bumps appeared. “Sit with me during dinner. There is no risk to you and I guarantee you won’t regret it.”
She smiled. “Well, Monsieur Harrington, when you invent such a creative offer, how can I refuse?” Besides being a divine dancer, this man intrigued her. She would love nothing better than to spend a little more time in his company, despite her father’s warning.
“Simon,” he said softly.
“Qu’est-ce que c’est? What was that?”
“My name is Simon. I want to hear it spoken from your lips.”
Giselle sighed. The man was definitely trouble. She nodded. “Simon it is.”
Just then, the music died. They broke apart.
“Thank you for the dance, Simon.” Giselle turned and started in the direction of the waiting males, but his hand on her arm held her back.
“Dinner will be served momentarily. Why not walk in the garden with me beforehand?”
Torn, Giselle bit her lip, debating his request. “Non,” she finally said. “I do not think that is wise.”
“Surely the master of the game isn’t afraid of me?” Simon countered, giving her a challenging look. “What can happen with all these people around?” He let go of her and held out his arm. “Come, it’s a little stuffy in here. Besides, you don’t want to go back to fishing just yet. After dinner will be soon enough.”
“You are incorrigible.” Giselle could only shake her head and stifle the urge to grin.
Then she put her gloved hand on his sleeve and allowed Simon to lead her out of the French doors.
~~
Simon led her to a fairly secluded area, glad to have Giselle to himself for a bit
. They were hidden from view, but the band playing another waltz was still audible.
While he had no desire to entangle himself in a tryst with her, there was no denying she attracted him. He’d leave Louisville tonight and maybe meet his goal of making a lasting impression. Yet after spending the past few minutes in her company, he had no doubt that the impression, complete with the gaslight shining over her face that highlighted her lovely features, would be forever etched in his memory. Giselle Franklin was a beautiful, desirable woman. Simon understood her game. Unfortunately, he was no more immune to her allure than any of the other men she’d been working to charm.
“I imagine you are still working for President Grant,” Giselle said, drawing Simon’s attention.
He chuckled and eyed her speculatively. As bold as the statement was, he expected nothing less from her. “Is that so?”
“I may be female, but I am not stupid.” She shrugged. “I know all about men such as you. My father was one. He was content in Paris to work behind the scenes, but I heard the stories about when he was younger. He was very good at what he did.”
Their gazes locked as he considered her words. “Just what do you know about men such as me?”
“Besides being dangerous, you crave excitement. That is why you do the things you do.”
Simon was taken aback by her insight. She seemed to be able to look into his core and see him so clearly.
When she smiled up at him with an expression much too perceptive, his focus landed on her lips. He couldn’t look away. Those lips begged to be kissed and he wanted nothing more than to comply.
Unable to control the impulse, he slowly pulled her into his arms and lowered his head. When their mouths finally connected, he savored the feel of such soft and yielding lips, holding him spellbound. Blood pounded through his body. He caught a whiff of her floral scent at the same time she gave a low moan, opening her mouth and placing her hands on his shoulders.
Pressing his advantage after that small encouragement, he gently nudged her mouth wider. Of its own volition, his tongue invaded and she obeyed its urgent demands.
Simon never imagined a kiss could spiral out of control so rapidly. He certainly never meant to become lost in her mouth, become lost in a sea of sensation.
Yet when he felt Giselle’s tentative touch—her soft hands reaching up, wrapping around his nape, and bringing him closer—his passion ignited. All rational thought emptied from his mind, replaced with thoughts of having her naked and writhing beneath him. Simon desperately wanted more. His tongue laid siege, increasing its assault. His hands found her breasts.
And still, it wasn’t enough.
He stroked one breast through the silky material of her gown and she shuddered with obvious pleasure. When his hand brushed her dress off her shoulder, baring one perfectly round breast to the night air and he began stroking it, she stiffened and jerked her mouth away.
“Monsieur, you forget yourself.” Wide-eyed, she stared at him while placing a hand over her bare bosom.
The horror in her voice and her actions registered, and fighting for control, Simon closed his eyes. It took supreme effort to rein in his warring emotions. He couldn’t believe how easily this flirting coquette had caused him to lose his sanity. It angered him now that desire for her still ran at a fevered pace throughout his body. The urge to grab her, subdue her, and have her pliant as she was but a few minutes ago was hard to tamp down and left him even angrier. How was it this bit of fluff could elicit such strong reactions from him?
Once the battle was won, he gave a mental shake of his head to clear it and opened his eyes. Irritation replaced anger, but it was directed more toward himself than the enticing woman who stood before him with a wounded expression. Her look as she unsuccessfully attempted to straighten her gown annoyed him. Hell, it wasn’t as if she didn’t invite his kiss. He didn’t bother to keep his annoyance out of his voice when he spoke.
“If you don’t want my attention, then I suggest you cover yourself faster.” He roughly pulled up her dress.
Giselle’s eyes flashed fire. She slapped at his hand and lowered her gaze. “I am sorry. The situation got ahead of me.”
His annoyance vanished after watching Giselle assume full responsibility for her actions. Damn, if his admiration of her spirit didn’t climb a notch after witnessing the apology. Suddenly he felt lower than the pebbles beneath her feet.
“No, Giselle.” Simon sighed, letting out a slow breath. “’Tis I who should apologize.”
It was just as much his fault the situation got ahead of her, more so in fact. Even though she was an outrageous flirt, she was obviously an innocent one. That piece of information changed the rules of this game. Deflowering young virgins and then leaving them the next day wasn’t his style. He wasn’t about to travel that route, no matter how enticing the girl was.
“You have no reason to apologize. I was acting like a cad. I’m sorry.” Regret spilled out in his words. Simon kissed the top of her head and grabbed her gloved hand, pulling her slowly along. “We should go inside. It looks as if dinner is about to be served.”
~~
Giselle’s heartbeat slowed to normal and she wondered at how easily he had swayed her into that heated kiss. Surely she was playing with fire. Her cheeks still burned from the memory. It was as if no time had passed since their last meeting two years ago, when she had thought him the most exciting man on earth. Touching her mouth, still a bit swollen, she was now certain of that fact.
She chanced a peek at Simon’s handsome, determined profile. He was no boy she could lead around with sweet words and empty promises. At that moment she realized exactly how dangerous the man truly was. That in itself was a lure, hard to resist.
As he stopped to pull out a chair, she glanced at his hands—glorious hands that had roamed over her breasts just moments ago. She sat, remembering he had been involved in the kiss as much as she. He was no different from other males, which meant she could handle him.
Giselle’s gaze sought the main table and she smiled. Libby was engaged in a lively conversation with Colin. Just as she suspected, her friend really didn’t need any help in socializing. Talk at the table centered on the new thoroughbred racetrack. She exhaled a pleased sigh, sat back, and decided to enjoy herself.
“What brought on such a beautiful smile?” Simon asked, pulling Giselle out of her daydreams.
“Oh, I love watching thoroughbreds race,” she answered dreamily. “I am so excited about all the news. We used to go to the track in Paris quite often and I miss it.”
“Do you miss Paris?”
“How can one not miss Paris?” She lifted her shoulders. “Such a lovely city and so alive.”
“So, why are you here? Why have you never married? Surely there are young swains everywhere, including Paris, who have fallen under your spell.”
“Maybe, but I have not fallen under anyone’s spell, and certainly have no plans of allowing such a fate.” Most of the marriages of her peers in Paris were arranged. Very few actually ended in happily-ever-after for women in her position. Thankfully, her mother and father wanted what they had for their two daughters. To marry for love.
“Oh, Giselle. If I but had the time, I bet I could make you fall under mine.” Simon grinned.
“Oui, I am sure you could,” Giselle countered, presenting a coquettish smile. “But I am smart enough to know my father’s words spoke volumes. You will be gone soon, and I will be back to fishing, non?”
Simon sat back in his chair and roared with laughter. Eyes glistening with merriment, he picked up her gloved hand and kissed it. “I can’t remember when I’ve enjoyed someone’s company as much as I’ve enjoyed yours tonight. Thank you for allowing me to escort you to dinner. It has truly been my pleasure.”
Non, she thought. The pleasure was all hers. No man had ever captured her attention as he had tonight, the same as he’d done so long ago. Such a genuine pity he was precisely the kind of man her father warned her away fro
m.
~~
In another part of the ballroom, Caroline Hillier stood talking with a well-dressed man. Her attention roamed to Simon Harrington, who led the woman he’d been with during dinner to a group of people that included Colin Thorpe.
Finally she turned to the gentleman beside her. “Your plan sounds intriguing, but I have no use for your money. I don’t need or want it.” Caroline’s gaze refocused on Simon, who was now talking with another man. “Sorry, old boy. I’m not interested.”
The man standing in the shadows chuckled. He’d followed Caroline’s gaze as Harrington escorted Giselle Franklin across the room.
“Good-looking couple,” he finally said.
Caroline met his stare with an interested lift of her eyebrows.
He smiled. “Harrington and Giselle Franklin. It’s been awhile since the heiress has graced our ranks.”
“I suppose so. She’s of no concern, but he’s definitely an attractive man.”
“I can see he’s caught your eye.”
“Yes.” She sighed. “It’s really too bad he’s leaving tonight.”
“Well, you never know. Maybe he’ll be back.”
“When hell freezes over. He has no ties here.”
He let out a soft laugh. “Like I said…” His voice was whisper soft, almost menacing. “You never know.”
Caroline watched the gentleman wind his way through the crowded room, wondering why he seemed so amused. Then turning her attention back to Simon Harrington, she smiled wistfully, thinking it a shame he was leaving so soon. How she would love to have the man within her grasp, especially considering all her attempts to lure Colin Thorpe into her web had failed miserably.
Chapter 3
“What a beautiful day,” Libby said, drawing Giselle’s attention the next afternoon.
“It is perfect,” Giselle murmured, sitting on a blanket with Libby and Colin, enjoying the rare cool July breeze and waiting for hot air balloons to take off. She put up a hand to block the sun. Her focus landed on the happy couple as a bit of envy rose up.
