[The Sons of Lily Moreau 02] - Taming the Playboy

by Marie Ferrarella

  “That goes for all of us,” Georges told her, leaning in as his mother moved away. His eyes held hers for a moment. “Especially me.”

  Taking the tray back from him, she pressed her lips together and nodded. “I know.” “Do you?” he questioned. She looked at him, confused. It was a simple enough statement that she had uttered. Why was he challenging it? Challenging her? “Do you realize that you’re not alone?” he pressed. “That you don’t have to be alone?”

  Viennatried her best to smile, to really smile because he knew the difference, but it was a halfhearted effort.

  “Oh, but I am,” she whispered. The next moment, she hurried away, to see to the tray, to see to a thousand and one tiny details that mattered to absolutely no one, but the execution of which kept her sane for a minute longer.

  It was how she managed to string together her day and all the days that had come between her grandfather’s death and now. One scrambling minute after another until an hour faded and then another and another, forming a day.

  Viennaleaned against the door, sighing as her eyes fluttered shut for a moment.

  It was over. The people who had attended her grandfather’s funeral and the ceremony at the cemetery were finally gone from the house as well. A wave of relief and fear washed over her at the same time. Relief because she no longer had to pretend for anyone that she was all right, and fear for the same reason.

  Because she no longer had to pretend. Because the rest of her life was staring her in the face and she felt so completely, so devastatingly alone. All these years, ever since her parents had died, it had been just her grandfather and her and in her heart, she’d always hoped to expand those numbers. To fall in love, marry, have children and all the while, have her grandfather there as part of the whole.

  She wanted him to know how much she appreciated what he had done for her taking care of her all those years. She wanted him to be proud of the way she’d turned out and to know how grateful she was that he had loved her all those years and been there for her whenever she needed him. And sometimes, during her rebellious years, when she’d insisted that she didn’t.

  Those were the times when she’d needed him most of all, she thought.

  Except for now.

  Now she needed him. God, but she needed him. Needed something to block all this emptiness dwelling within her. But he was gone.

  Busy, get busy, she silently ordered herself. She’d keep busy until she’d drop from exhaustion and fall asleep. It was the only thing that gave her hope.

  Feeling like a sleepwalker,Vienna began to pick up the empty paper plates from the table, gathering them from the various surfaces where they had been left.

  Janice and Lily had offered to stay and help. She had politely but firmly refused. She wanted to be alone, she’d said.

  She’d gotten good at lying,Vienna thought.

  “So where would you like me to start?”

  A scream escaped her lips as she swung around. The paper plates she’d been holding slipped from her fingers, landing facedown, dirty side against the carpet.

  “I guess there,” Georges decided, bending down to pick up the plates and the forks she’d dropped.

  Viennapressed her hand over her heart to keep it from breaking out of her chest. It was pounding hard enough to mimic adrumroll .

  “What are you doing here?” She could have sworn there was no one in the house. “I thought you’d left with the others.” “Really not all that memorable to you, am I?” he quipped, continuing to gather together the discarded plates. “So much for having an ego.” And then he smiled at her, his eyes softening. “I thought you might need some help—”

  “I already told your mother no—”

  “—and some company.” Georges meandered through the living room and the small dining room beyond, stacking plates and cups wherever he found them.

  She raised her chin, the lone defender of an abandoned fort. “I said no to that, too.”

  He paused for a second to pick up a glass that had been left under her grandfather’s baby grand piano. “Yes, I know you did.”

  She circumvented the piano, following him through the room. “So why are you here?”

  He placed the stack he’d made on the buffet table. “Because I don’t believe you.”

  She wasn’t going to get pulled into a duel of words. Everything was meaningless, anyway. “It doesn’t matter what you believe. It’s what I want that matters.” Georges turned from what he was doing to look at her. His eyes seemed to hold hers prisoner. “Exactly.” His intonation indicated that he was seeing past the barricade of words she’d thrown up and instead, delving into her soul.

  Her eyes narrowed. A surge of anger, red-hot and completely out of the blue, with no rhyme nor reason, overtook her. “You’re telling me you know my mind better than I do.”

  If she meant to get into a fight with him, she failed. He looked completely unflappable. “In essence, yes.”

  Marching over to the front door, she pulled it open, then stood, waiting. “I want you to leave.”

  He crossed to her, then caught her off guard by slamming the door shut. It vibrated as it settled into its frame. “No, you don’t.” “Yes, I do.” But when she tried to pull the door open again, he put his hand over hers, preventing her. Her eyes were shooting angry sparks as she looked at him. “Damn it, why are you doing this to me? You know you don’t want to be here.”

  Where the hell had that come from? And then he knew. She was referring to the last time they’d been together, just before she’d discovered her grandfather. But he no longer wanted to swim the waters he’d been testing then. She needed to know that, he thought.

  “I’ve never wanted to be anywhere so much in my life,” he contradicted.

  No, she wasn’t going to believe him. It was a ruse, however well intended,Vienna thought. “You’re saying that because you think I’m hurting.”

  But Georges slowly shook his head. “No, I’m saying that because without you, I’m hurting.”

  She began to turn away but he caught her by the shoulders, holding her in place. Needing her to listen. “I won’t deny that I wanted to run. That’s been the plan all along. Whenever things looked as if they might get serious, I left.” She tried to jerk out of his hold, but he only tightened his hands on her shoulders. She needed to hear all of this.

  “But a funny thing happened to me on the way to my next escape. I kept putting it off, until I didn’t want to go at all.” He searched her face to see if she believed him. “You’ve taken me prisoner and I don’t want to leave.”

  She blew out a breath, wishing he’d let her go. Wishing he’d stop touching her. Her strength ebbed and she needed him to leave before it did. “You’ve just described the Stockholm syndrome.”

  He grinned at the mention of that. “I’ve always wanted to go visitStockholm ,” he confessed. “Maybe we can do it together.”

  “Sorry, too busy.” This time, she did manage to break his hold. Turning her back on him, she retreated into the living room.

  He kept up, moving faster so that he got ahead of her. “Not if it’s a honeymoon. You’d clear time for a honeymoon, wouldn’t you?”

  He saw her eyes widening in dazed confusion. He had her, he thought. Georges pretended to consider the matter as if this hadn’t already crossed his mind three times over today. “Can’t be right now, but we could schedule it for the summer. They take the shackles off me at the hospital in the summer.”

  “Wait, wait,”Vienna pleaded before he could continue, leaving her gasping in the dust. “What honeymoon?”

  He looked at her as if he couldn’t understand her confusion. “Our honeymoon.”

  “Our…” Her voice trailed off. She stared at him as if he’d lost his mind. “You can’t have a honeymoon unless you’re married.”

  If his grin had been any wider, an extra mouth would have had to be pressed into service to accommodate it. “Exactly.”

  All right, he was pulling her
leg, having fun at her expense.Vienna crossed her arms before her. “And when did we get married?” she asked sarcastically.

  “We didn’t.” His eyes met hers. His were infinitely warm, teasing. “Yet.” Okay, enough was enough. “Look, if this is some off-the-wall plan to get me to break down and cry because you think I need closure or some such nonsense, it’s not going to work.”

  He stopped her before she reached the kitchen, blocking her way in. “No, it’s some off-the-wall plan to get you to say you’ll marry me. Does that work?”

  Her mouth fell open. “You’re asking me to marry you?” Very slowly, Georges nodded. “Yes.”

  He didn’t mean that—did he? Oh God, did he? “Seriously?”

  “Well, I’m smiling,” he allowed, then was as serious as he could be, “but yes, seriously.” The next minute, she realized what had to be going on. “Is this a pity proposal? Are you asking me to marry you because you feel sorry for me and this will snap me out of whatever it is you think I have?”

  Damn, this woman could come up with more weird road blocks, more excuses to stop him in his tracks than anyone he’d ever known. But then, like Philippe had said, she was a once-in-a-lifetime woman, and women like that were unique in every way.

  “The only pity that’s involved is if you say no and then I should be on the receiving end of that pity, not you. But yes, I do want you to snap out of this invulnerable, iron wrap you’ve spun around yourself.” Because otherwise, he was never going to get through to her, he thought.

  Georges tried to take her into his arms, but she shrugged his hands away. But he refused to be put off. He’d stood by, gave herher space for these last four days, and that hadn’t worked. Now he was doing it his way, the way his heart told him to. And he wasn’t about to back off until he’d won her over.

  “Your grandfather wouldn’t want you to be like this,Vienna . And he wouldn’t want you to turn me down.” Georges raised his eyebrows, doing his best to look innocent and affable. “He liked me, remember?”

  “You’re doing this because of Grandpa?” It all suddenly came together for her. “Because he asked you to take care of me.” The look he gave her said she should know better. “I liked that old man a great deal,Vienna , but trust me, I wouldn’t marry someone just because a man I admired asked me to. There’s such a thing as free will.” He let the words sink in before continuing. “And I’m laying down my free will at your feet.” He slipped his arms around her. This time, she didn’t push him away. It gave him hope. “Marry me,Vienna .”

  “Why?” she asked. “Give me one good reason why.”

  Georges didn’t say anything for a moment. Instead, he placed his hands on her face, framing it. “Because I love you.” The moment he said them to her, the moment the words penetrated the armor around her heart,Vienna ’s eyes welled up. The tears she’d been holding back since her grandfather’s death, the tears that had gathered in her soul when she believed that she and Georges were through, broke out.

  Viennabegan to cry. “That’s the reason,” she whispered.

  His hands were still framing her face and he looked intently into her eyes. “Are those tears of joy, or tears of frustration?”

  “Will you stop asking me questions?”Vienna raised her mouth to his. Her lips were so close, he brushed against them as he said, “Just one more.”Vienna drew back her head and looked at him, waiting. “Will you marry me? You haven’t answered me yet.”

  “Yes,” she cried. “Now shut up and kiss me.”

  “I can do that.” And he could. And very, very well, too.

  ISBN: 978-1-4268-0681-0

  TAMING THE PLAYBOY

  Copyright © 2007 by MarieRydzynski-Ferrarella All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the editorial office, Silhouette Books, 233 Broadway, New York, NY 10279 U.S.A.

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