Scent of a Woman

by Joanne Rock

  ADAM LISTENED TO Marcel’s sports car roar away into the night, then slumped down into a wrought-iron chair on the front terrace, not sure where to go next.

  He would be on Alexandra’s Dream tomorrow afternoon for his final meeting with Ahmed. He’d made sure the family’s pilot remained on duty nearby to take him to Marseilles, where the ship docked next.

  But should he leave now? Danielle obviously didn’t want to see him in light of her business problems, but at least he had uncovered the mystery about why she’d stood him up for their date in Villefranche earlier. She hadn’t been jet-setting around the globe for the hell of it. She’d been immersed in damage control.

  Which left him…where?

  He tipped back in the chair, balancing the wrought-iron seat on two legs while he breathed in the scent of the night. Flowers bloomed in shiny black pots around the front door, making the air fragrant. Thanks to Danielle, he appreciated the scents more than he would have in the past. He’d sent women flowers more times than he could count, never thinking of the smell or stopping to customize the choice for the woman.

  Still, he was nowhere near the expert that Danielle was. She would be able to identify every component of that floral blend winding its way around his senses at the moment. She was a connoisseur in her field, a professional with all the credentials he lacked.

  Perhaps that’s what made her predicament all the more unfair. No matter how much of an expert she was, she possibly wouldn’t land the International Markets account because Adam’s industry connections and marketing savvy could bring the retailer a fatter bottom line in a shorter amount of time.

  That wasn’t his ego talking, although he’d certainly let that run free often enough in the past. He simply knew Ahmed couldn’t afford to make the more edgy—and risky—decision.

  The fact only reinforced Adam’s concern that Danielle hadn’t faced her last professional hardship this week. On top of her brother’s betrayal, she would be dealing with the loss of a potential account. Of course, maybe she’d be relieved since her brother’s schemes might have reduced Les Rêves’s ability to fulfill the orders a large account would require.

  Whatever the outcome, it would be disappointing for her and might mean she wouldn’t be returning to the cruise ship. In which case, Adam figured he’d better make an effort to say goodbye to her tonight.

  He felt weight on his chest at the idea, but he wouldn’t leave without trying to thank her. Danielle Chevalier had done more than teach him about scents and the perfume business this week. After twenty years of keeping a frenetic pace in the workplace, Adam had learned the benefits of taking a little down time. Danielle had helped him see that pleasure wasn’t something frivolous.

  It was a vital way to recharge himself, and he refused to miss out any more.

  FROM THE GARDEN in the backyard, Danielle could hear someone walking through the house.

  Marcel? Or could it be Adam?

  She’d heard a car speed away half an hour ago, but she wasn’t certain if it was Marcel or Adam. Pausing between two pillars covered in bougainvillea, she sipped a cup of hot tea and listened as she wrapped her arm around herself in her silk pajamas and long robe that were her nod to comfort clothes. She told herself she didn’t care who it was walking this way because she didn’t particularly want to talk with either of them tonight. Her anger with Marcel wouldn’t dissipate for a long time after what he’d done.

  And Adam…

  She wasn’t sure how she felt about his arrival in Paris right in the middle of her professional crisis. Was he responding to Marcel’s call for offers from interested investors? Or had he come for less mercenary reasons?

  She didn’t know because she hadn’t given him a chance to explain himself. But then, her passionate nature had led her astray more than once in the past. She needed to learn to control her emotions better if she was going to pull her company out of this mess.

  “Wow.”

  The masculine voice on the other side of the garden startled her even though she’d known someone was coming, and across the shadowy shapes of overgrown plants and untended fruit trees, Danielle spied Adam’s outline in the moonlight.

  “You’re still here.” She walked a path of small mosaic stepping stones she’d made herself as a teenager. The brightly colored rock tiles had been gifts for her mother for birthdays and Christmases for five years, resulting in a path of ten brightly colored stones.

  Danielle wished all of life’s trails were marked so clearly.

  “I’ll head out soon.” He moved closer, his shadowy outline kick-starting something inside her despite the events of past few hours.

  What would it be like to have someone to lean on when life turned rough? That was one experience she’d never had as an adult. The thought made her as uncomfortable as it made her wistful.

  “I did not mean to be rude earlier.” She ducked under a low-hanging branch of an orange tree toward the center of the old garden. “I cut you off when you were trying to talk to me and—”

  “I don’t know all the details, but I gather you’ve had one hell of a day.” The low notes of his voice soothed her.

  “My brother seems to have been leading a bit of a double life.” She found the fountain at the garden’s heart and took a seat on the stone bench across from it, settling her teacup at her feet as she plucked a fragrant wisteria bloom. “I find it frustrating that he could take financial chances with Les Rêves’s assets, and yet his Italian sports car is still available for trips around town.”

  Leaning forward on the bench, she smoothed a hand across the edge of the fountain base, which was shaped like an open shell. A nude Venus reclined in the center, her hair cascading in waves of stone. It was one of her mother’s earliest pieces, before she had turned to painting for good. What it lacked in artistic merit, it made up for in emotional appeal and captivated garden visitors.

  “What will you do with the company? Did he leave you with enough to continue operations?” Adam joined her on the bench.

  The scent of his cologne had faded but she could catch a light hint of hyssop on the night breeze. The warm strength of him beside her bolstered her spirits even though she knew he had come to say goodbye.

  So much for having someone to lean on. She released the silly fantasy as surely as she let a wisteria bloom float away from her grip along the water swirling in the fountain.

  “I am unsure until I have an independent analyst come in and make some sense of the books. I will buy out my brother, however. We will never work together again, at least not in a partnership capacity.”

  Her life would change exponentially from here on. Marcel’s betrayal stung bitterly. He had learned about fragrances beside her at their mother’s knee. They had shared the same upbringing. The same unconditional love.

  “If it’s any consolation, I think your brother regrets what he did.”

  Such thoughts couldn’t make their way through the ache of Marcel’s betrayed.

  “Maybe one day that will comfort me. Today—it does not seem to help.”

  “I didn’t come here tonight because of your brother, by the way.” Adam scooped up a jasmine bough that needed trimming. Bending to the branch, he buried his nose among the flowers and breathed deeply.

  “You didn’t?” She hadn’t wanted to believe he’d come all this way to try to buy out her business. And yet, what other reason could there be?

  “No. I’d just been talking to Joe before I got your message and he’d been saying—” He released the branch, the jasmine leaves sliding along the ground. “The scent reminds me of you.”

  The simple compliment soothed her. He might not be here for long, but she couldn’t stop herself from soaking up what little time—comfort—she could from him for now.

  She broke off a sprig of flowers and tucked it in his jacket like a boutonniere.

  “I fell in love with jasmine while I lived in this house. It was my favorite scent until we took the country house and I found a few o
thers that I thought were fair rivals.” She backtracked to his earlier remark. “What did your brother have to say when you spoke to him?”

  “He’d been reading up on you after our photo appeared in the Italian press.”

  Things fell into place now, and she wasn’t sure she liked this new reason for Adam’s appearance any better than the one she’d feared. Her hands fell away from his jacket. Instead of coming to Paris to pick over the remains of Les Rêves, he’d come to test the truth of her party-girl reputation.

  “I see. I told you I had a wild side, but you did not believe it until you heard it from your brother. Yet we seem to share the ability to attract gossip. Is it possible you are a man who subscribes to the double standard?”

  She rose from the bench, her body tense from deflecting blows all day. She would not have thought that such a small thing as Adam doubting her word would hurt this much. She should be numb by now.

  “Absolutely not.” His conviction was admirable. “I told you I don’t buy half the crap that appears in papers and I meant it. But I had to wonder why you hadn’t really shared your own run-ins with the vultures of the society pages when I told you about mine. You didn’t tell me—Hell. You didn’t tell me.”

  Hadn’t she? Funny, she remembered things differently.

  “I told you I was often misjudged. And I told you I had a wild reputation, but you did not believe me since you saw a more sophisticated woman than your publicity-seeking actress.” She shrugged, some of the fire returning to her. She ignored the tiny voice in her head that told her she was using anger to cover a deeper pain. “I cannot help that you did not believe me, and I will not apologize for not trotting out every sordid little tidbit that’s printed about me every time I step into the social arena where I conduct most of my business. Now if that’s all, I’m going to bed and you can flag down your private pilot and tell him our business here is most definitely finished.”

  She had a head of steam and was ready to tear through the garden and into the house when his arms snaked around her waist, and preventing her from going anywhere.

  “Wait,” he said.

  “Let go.” She spoke through clenched teeth, holding back the anger. And yes, the hurt.

  “Listen.” His fingers tightened on her waist and she couldn’t deny an immediate, physical reaction that was anything but unpleasant.

  “Have I not heard quite enough?” She held herself stiff, so many emotions running through her she couldn’t tell what she felt anymore.

  “No. Because you don’t know that I realized I was thinking with my pride instead of my head.”

  He spun her around to face him, and when she saw the fire in Adam’s eyes, some of the stiffness slid from her shoulders.

  “Will you come back to the ship after all this?” His grip on her loosened and she realized she didn’t want to walk away.

  She hadn’t given much thought to the cruise, but it would probably be foolish to return to Alexandra’s Dream. “I’ve given my final pitch to Ahmed. There is no more I can do but await his decision, which I can do here as easily as there.”

  “The promise of darts won’t lure you back then?” His lopsided smile told her he was teasing and yet—

  Did he hope for more between them despite their carefully set ground rules?

  “The threat of my business going under is a strong incentive for me to stay. I am not the party girl I am accused of being. I care about Les Rêves.”

  He absorbed her words slowly, as if he were considering arguing with her. Or, perhaps, trying to change her mind. In the end, however, he simply nodded.

  “Then it’s a damn good thing I followed you.”

  “Oui?”

  “Yes. Because now at least I’ll get to say goodbye.”

  Her heart constricted at those words, then his lips met hers.

  Adam’s arms around her blocked out everything but the scents of the blossoms and warm earth. She tilted her head up to receive his kiss, the sweet stroke of his tongue breathing life into her when she felt so defeated. He stirred her as no other man ever had, and with only a kiss. She lost herself in that sensation, allowing the moment to spin out until they were both breathing hard.

  “Maybe I should come back to the ship just to gather my things,” she heard herself saying, drunk on kisses and the thought of the days she’d miss being with Adam. The nights.

  He cradled her face in his hands.

  “Then I won’t say goodbye yet.” His thumb caressed her cheek. “Good night, Danielle. And don’t worry about the business. You’re too talented to let Marcel’s mistakes pull you under.”

  She wanted to ask him more about that. She could have used a few encouraging words on a day that had all but sucked the life out of her. But when she pried open her eyes in the wake of that mind-drugging kiss, Adam had gone.

  AS A LIFELONG COMPETITOR in every area of his life, Adam understood that not every triumph tasted sweet. Some were tainted by coming too easily, and others—like this one—were disappointing because you knew you shouldn’t have won in the first place.

  Adam had received the call from Ahmed the day after he’d pitched his concept to the retailer. Ahmed had offered Adam the lead contract—a tidy sum that had Joe turning cartwheels. Adam’s supporters back in New York raked in a hefty sum from the naysayers who didn’t think he could close a perfume deal. Ahmed had told Adam he was awarding a secondary contract to Danielle for a lesser amount of money to distribute the Les Rêves brand in select high-end markets. Ahmed planned to call Danielle at her shop in Nice to seal the deal and fax over the contract.

  That was the last Adam had heard about her, since she hadn’t put in an appearance on the ship again. Adam hadn’t bothered attending the final conference banquet or the industry awards the last night of the cruise. His heart was no longer in the job.

  Now, as he sat in his office in New York a week later, he couldn’t stop thinking about her. Nor could he get rid of the bitter taste in his mouth left by his business victory.

  Sure he’d won the contract. Burns Inc. would be better able to handle his father’s retirement with a solid profit-generating account in place for their largest company. The Burns Foundation would profit, too, and had already received a check based on the retainer Adam had received to begin work. Two of the foundation’s recipients had called to thank him and their appreciation over the donation had been the highlight of winning the contract.

  But thinking about Danielle, and how the loss of the lead spot with International Markets had to have hurt her business even further, Adam couldn’t take much joy in his win. He couldn’t have pulled it off without her. She could have let him hang himself with Ahmed the first time they’d met in the wine bar when Adam hadn’t immediately realized who the guy was. Plus, Adam had gone on to do one of his most enthusiastic presentations based on the knowledge of perfume Danielle had given him. He hadn’t stolen a single idea, of course. But he’d absorbed some of her passion for the product thanks to her ability to describe the compelling aspects of scent so well to a guy who’d spent more time smelling sweat than fragrance.

  A banging on his office window hauled him out of his thoughts. Joe stood on the other side of the glass, his suit so damn crisp he looked like he’d just walked out of the tailor’s.

  At Adam’s nod, Joe let himself in the office and automatically turned down the overhead television in one corner that Adam kept permanently on ESPN.

  “What gives, bro? Every time I go by your office lately you’re out to lunch.”

  “Funny you should say that because I’ve ordered in every day for the last week just so I can catch up with the work no one helped out with while I was away.” Adam had slept in the office the first two nights, in fact. Life in the penthouse hotel suite was starting to wear on him.

  “You know what I mean.” Joe dropped into the wingback across from Adam’s desk and picked a pencil out of a cup decorated with tin foil given to Adam as a thank-you gift from a sick little girl he�
��d visited through the Burns Foundation a few months back. There was a picture of Adam and the girl in a cut-out heart with a lace doily around it. His walls were covered with photographs, handprints and paper chains he’d scored from visits to hospitals and orphanages over the years.

  “Hey, at least I’m doing some thinking, which is more than I can say for the man who bet against a sure thing.” He turned the conversation around, not ready to answer questions about what happened with him and Danielle. Questions he’d sensed on the tip of his brother’s tongue for days.

  “You think you can distract me from my purpose that easily?” Joe straightened his tie even though he’d sprawled himself sideways in the chair by now.

  Adam willed his phone to ring, but his office remained silent.

  “Come on. Spill.” Joe drummed his pencil on his knee. “What happened with the mademoiselle?”

  Joe did a pretty accurate French accent, but it lacked the appeal of Danielle’s.

  “She went back to work, same as me.” He shrugged even though it ticked him off not to have heard from her by now. Didn’t she know he wanted to find out how things were going with the business? He’d picked up the phone a dozen times in the past week, but never placed the call simply because they’d had a deal for good reasons. They lived on opposite sides of the Atlantic, and they were both committed to their careers.

  Except they’d made plenty of time for each other last week. Danielle seemed skilled at finding ways to relax and have fun no matter how much she loved her work.

  “Are you going to see her again?”

  “Since when do you interrogate me about women I date?”

  “Since you seem to do such a piss-poor job of dating in general when left to your own devices.” Joe grinned, picking up the tempo of his impromptu drum solo now that he’d a second pencil involved.

  “I don’t know if I’ll see her again. She’s busy pulling her company out of a crisis since her business partner—her brother, by the way—screwed her out of a big chunk of company assets.”

  Joe straightened.

  “Sounds serious.”