French Fling to Forever

by Karin Baine

  ‘She says not—goes mad at the suggestion I pay her teachers a visit—but it’s getting to the stage where I might have to.’

  Lola could imagine him going in, that feisty French temper at full blast, making things much worse for the young girl. Her brothers hadn’t improved matters for her when they’d gone storming in with their fists flying.

  ‘I’m sure she’ll confide in you when the time’s right for her. It’s not easy for teenage girls to talk to anyone—especially their daddy.’

  There’d been absolutely no point in Lola going to her daddy at the height of the bullying—he wouldn’t have coped when he’d barely been able to hold himself together. Lola’s relationship with her father now was somehow more distant than the one with her estranged mother. He was still around, but he’d never been the parent she’d needed. If Lola ever had children of her own she hoped they’d have a man like Henri in their lives to genuinely care for them.

  Just as she was getting carried away by the aww factor of Henri looking out for his baby girl, she caught sight of his raised eyebrow and lopsided smile.

  ‘What? I’m forbidden to voice an opinion? Trust me—you’ll do her no favours by storming in and ignoring her wishes. Be there for her...let her know she can come to you when the time is right.’

  Her speech had been a long time coming, and it was one meant for her own family, but it was as relevant to this situation as it had been then. Henri and Angelique needed to open the lines of communication with their daughter before things got any worse.

  The adrenaline rush of speaking out left Lola dizzy and a little breathless.

  Henri tilted his head to the side and gave her a grin that sent shivers through her very core. ‘You think I’m Gabrielle’s father?’

  She didn’t want to say yes and compound her mistake, since he was making it very apparent he wasn’t. ‘Father, stepfather, whatever... You’re still her guardian.’

  ‘I’m her uncle.’

  ‘Oh. Oh.’ The implications of that new information slowly filtered through to Lola’s brain. If she was his niece, that meant—

  ‘Angelique is my sister.’

  He put an end to her struggle to put the pieces together and garnered another performance of her goldfish impression.

  ‘I just assumed... You’re clearly a very close family.’

  She must have been blinded by their combined beauty not to notice the now obvious resemblance between them. Beautiful people always gravitated towards each other, so Lola had never imagined either one of the Benoits as singletons. If they were. For all she knew there could be more Model Trons stashed away—robots disguised as physically perfect humans whose mission on Earth was to make everyone who wasn’t a perfect ten seem like a frump in comparison.

  ‘Are you telling me you thought Angelique and I were a couple?’

  A deep, rumbling laugh reverberated around the room and reduced Lola back to that bumbling rookie who knew nothing.

  ‘I put two and two together—’ She shrugged her shoulders as she chalked up another nomination for the Idiot of the Month award.

  ‘And you came up with five. I guess we are closer than most since our parents died. When Angelique left Paris to be with the kids’ father I decided to come and do my studies here and keep what was left of the family together.’

  A sadness settled over Henri, stealing the twinkle from his smile as he spoke of his loss. It explained the close bond he had with his sister and her children. Hadn’t Lola clung to her brothers, too, when their parents had bailed?

  ‘And Angelique’s partner is no longer on the scene?’ It wasn’t really any of her business, but if he was in a sharing mood it was better to find out the exact circumstances before she put her foot in it again.

  Henri shook his head. ‘Sean’s been in and out of her life, but I think she’s better off without him.’

  ‘At least she has you to help out with the children and broker her cake deals.’

  It was Lola’s turn to have some fun and lighten the atmosphere before she was expected to reveal personal information in return. Although she no longer saw him as her arch nemesis, neither was he a friend. At least not one whom she was ready to trust with her deepest, darkest secrets.

  ‘There is that.’

  Henri’s frown evened out into another smile and Lola was able to appreciate the beauty of it guilt-free now she knew he and Angelique weren’t romantically involved.

  ‘Well, I guess I’ll see you at eight o’clock, then.’ Lola cleared her throat and brought an abrupt end to the conversation. Today had been full of revelations, and she saw no need to explore any more. Henri was attractive and single. No big deal.

  ‘I’ll be there at eight to pick up the cake. You know—the one for my sister?’ He teased her one last time before she left the office.

  With the door firmly closed behind her, Lola rested her head against it and tried to regulate her heartbeat. There was bound to be a logical explanation for the flutter of her pulse every time Henri reminded her that he was unattached, and as a qualified doctor she was determined to find a cure.

  CHAPTER THREE

  HENRI TOOK THE slip road off the motorway and followed the now familiar route to Lola’s apartment block in the Titanic Quarter. Next to Belfast Lough, and just a stone’s throw away from where the Titanic had cast off her moorings, this area was highly sought after. He’d been surprised, after he’d followed the sat-nav here previously to collect the cake, to find a junior doctor could afford such luxury.

  ‘We’re here,’ he announced, pulling on the car’s handbrake.

  Gabrielle remained slumped in the passenger seat next to him, staring out through the rain-splattered window.

  ‘What about my chicken?’ a small voice piped up from the back seat.

  Henri saw Bastien in the rearview mirror with his arms folded and lips pursed, ready for a full-on tantrum.

  ‘Don’t worry. We’re just here to thank the lady for making your cake and drop off her dish—then we’ll get a bucket of secret chicken as soon as we’re finished.’

  Their ‘secret’ chicken had nothing to do with a recipe and everything to do with not telling Angelique. She would kill him if she found out he was filling her children with fast food, but he didn’t want to deal with dinnertime dramatics tonight. Not when he was under strict instructions to make amends for not inviting Lola to Bastien’s party.

  If he hadn’t spent most of the day before the party wrapped up in department meetings he might have saved himself the trouble of a house call now, but he hadn’t seen her since taking delivery of the fabulous cake-osaurus.

  ‘Can we get ice cream, too?’ The six-year-old bounced in and out of view.

  ‘We’ll see.’

  Henri didn’t give a definitive answer, but these kids knew how to wrap their uncle round their little fingers. If only Gabrielle would show similar signs of enthusiasm. She was quiet and withdrawn, and it scared the hell out of him.

  Angelique had tried talking to her before work, but other than another ‘I’m fine’, there had been no progress. Henri hated watching his niece’s pain from the sidelines when it was his job to help others, his duty to care for his family. But all he could do for now was heed Lola’s advice and stay by her side.

  Gabrielle unclipped her seat belt and exited the car without the usual coaxing it took to get her out in public. The eager exit boded well. Perhaps Lola’s company would be enough to put a smile on her face.

  Henri knew he should have phoned ahead when Lola answered the door wearing a pig-patterned fleecy all-in-one.

  ‘Dr Benoit!’ Her cheeks turned the same shade of cute pink as her nightwear. ‘I...er...wasn’t expecting visitors tonight.’ She dropped her eyes to her matching pig-shaped slippers.

  ‘So I see.’

 
The endearing sight turned his frown into a smile. He hadn’t realised how much he had looked forward to seeing her until she’d opened the door in that ridiculous outfit and immediately lifted his mood.

  ‘I wanted to give you your platter back and thank you again for helping us out. I’m in the doghouse for not inviting you to the party, but I really didn’t think a room full of children on a sugar high would be your scene. Anyway, Bastien loved the cake.’

  He ruffled his nephew’s hair and hoped the cuteness factor would get him off the hook.

  Lola took the plate from him with a smile. ‘There’s no need to worry. As long as the birthday boy was happy, that’s all that matters.’

  ‘I loved it!’ Bastien piped up to give his expert opinion.

  ‘There you go—you’ll not get a better recommendation than that.’

  There hadn’t been much left to clean off the plate. The sumptuous chocolate sponge decorated with colourful sugar dinosaur figures had been delicious as well as a visual feast. Henri had enjoyed two slices and an orange brontosaurus in between games of pass the parcel and musical chairs.

  ‘Did you really make it all yourself?’

  Gabrielle hovered beside him, apparently as enthralled by Lola’s talents as he was.

  ‘I really did. It’s not that hard. All you need is time and patience.’

  ‘Not for me, then?’ He didn’t have the time to spare on hobbies and had absolutely no patience for sitting still, and he made no apologies for it. His no-nonsense approach to life had got him to the top of his field after all. But it didn’t mean he couldn’t appreciate a creative spirit such as Lola, whose imagination and eye for detail had put a smile on so many faces.

  ‘Probably not.’ Lola peered out at him from beneath lowered lashes, failing to hide her amusement at the very idea.

  There was something very endearing about her standing there in her PJs, scrubbed clean of make-up and giving him that shy Princess Diana look. She was the typical girl next door—sweet and innocent, and completely in contrast with the sexy siren he’d seen writhing in that chair at the club. Against his better judgement, he was becoming more and more intrigued by his new member of staff.

  ‘I’d love to try some time.’ Gabrielle scuffed her boots on the floor and avoided eye contact with anyone as she voiced her interest.

  Unfortunately Henri knew nothing about baking and even less about sugarcraft to be of any use to her. Still, if there was a chance this could improve her mood he’d find a way to make it happen.

  ‘You’re welcome to come over any time and I can show you the basics. If that’s okay with Henri and your mum?’

  Regardless that Lola was saving his bacon for a second time, she was obviously waiting for him to confirm this as a good idea. In terms of avoiding further entanglement with a colleague it was probably the worst thing he could do, but Gabrielle’s welfare took priority. What harm could there be in letting her ice a few cakes if it took her mind off whatever ailed her for a few hours?

  He held his hand up in surrender, refusing to be an obstacle to his niece’s wishes—as per Lola’s advice. ‘Hey, it’s fine by me. I’ll run it by Angelique later, but I don’t see a problem if it means there’s one member of the family who can at least turn the oven on.’

  That earned him a chorus of giggles from both children, and he could have hugged Lola for giving Gabrielle something to look forward to. However, throwing his arms around her when she was in her nightwear could be viewed as a tad inappropriate, so he settled for a subtle nod of the head in gratitude instead.

  She nodded back. They understood each other. This was for Gabrielle’s sake.

  ‘I’m hungry. Have you got any ice cream?’ Apparently the moment was lost on Bastien, whose impatience had sent him walking on in to the apartment.

  ‘I’m not sure...’ Lola watched, bemused, as he barged past her.

  ‘Sorry about this.’ Henri made a grab for his wayward nephew.

  ‘No problem. It’s too cold to keep you standing out there anyway. Come in and we can sort out a time for Gabrielle to start her baking masterclass. I’ll just put this plate away, then go get changed into something more...mature.’

  Lola opened the door wide for him and Gabrielle to enter. If she was inconvenienced by their sudden invasion, good manners covered her tracks. He didn’t think he’d be so accommodating if she turned up at his door with two inquisitive children when he was ready for bed. Although since he slept in the nude that could prove even more awkward.

  ‘Not on my account,’ he murmured, quite enjoying this injection of humour into his evening.

  It brought another flush of pink to her cheeks before she scurried out of sight.

  By the time Henri reached the living room Bastien had already discovered the games console and was busy setting up his favourite racing game.

  ‘Look what she’s got, Uncle Henri!’ The child’s face lit up as he expertly flicked through the set-up screen.

  ‘Her name is Dr Roberts, Bastien, and it’s very rude of you to come charging into a lady’s house uninvited.’

  ‘But she did ’vite us in.’

  ‘Only after you’d made yourself at home. Oh, never mind. Just don’t do it again.’ Children were exhausting. It was as well he’d decided a long time ago not to have any of his own. Angelique’s were a full-time commitment.

  Henri took a seat on the leather settee next to Gabrielle, who sat on the edge with her arms wrapped around her knees. He wished he could wave a magic wand and make her worries disappear.

  Lola returned wearing conservative jeans and a fitted floral blouse. Her hair remained the same, though: loose, wavy and free of its ponytail restraint.

  ‘Right. Now that I’m dressed for company, can I get you guys anything to drink?’

  ‘Can I have cola?’ Bastien pushed his junk food limits even further.

  ‘You know you’re not allowed that. You can have water.’ Henri had discovered the after-effects of giving his nephew fizzy drinks before bedtime to his cost. That had been one long night.

  ‘We have fruit juice, too. Gabrielle, would you like some?’ Lola came up with a timely alternative, which kept Bastien from further whining.

  ‘Yes, please.’

  ‘Let me give you a hand with the drinks.’

  He followed Lola into the kitchen. Whatever spell she’d cast on Gabrielle, he thought they might be able to capitalise on it. If a friendship developed between the pair, there was a chance she might trust Lola with her secrets. All he had to do was convince her to relay any information back to him.

  * * *

  ‘The glasses are in the top cupboard,’ she told him as she yanked the fridge door open.

  ‘Tell me, Dr Roberts, are you moonlighting as an exotic dancer? Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure you’re worth every penny, but you know the rules about taking paid employment outside of the hospital.’

  ‘Ouch!’ Lola banged her head on the top shelf of the fridge. ‘Pardon me?’

  She lifted out the carton of pure orange juice which had been pushed to the back in favour of Jules’s bottle of Pinot and closed the door.

  ‘I just assumed you must be making extra money somewhere to pay for all this.’ He motioned towards all the mod cons Lola took for granted now she wasn’t tied to the family’s kitchen sink.

  ‘This is Jules’s place. I pay rent.’

  It seemed she would never be allowed to forget that one night of abandoned dancing at Angelique’s burlesque class.

  ‘Ah...’

  The devastatingly handsome grin made Lola rue the less-than-flattering bed wear she’d been sporting on his arrival even more. Some people effortlessly exuded sex appeal in their nightwear, while others had all the sophistication of a cartoon pig.

  In hindsight, perhaps she should have
taken heed of Jules’s countless attempts to persuade her to swap her jammies for something more enticing to the opposite sex. She’d resisted those little silk numbers that clung to every curve in favour of shapeless comfort in the belief that no man would ever get close enough for it to matter.

  Since Henri had shown up uninvited, and practically stared through her fleecy protective layer, she might have to change her view. Especially when that appreciative gaze had warmed her insides rather than freaked her out.

  Lola shooed away the mental image of standing before him in one of those provocative outfits that mocked her every time she walked through the lingerie department on her way to Matching Separates. She didn’t want to associate him with a need to feel attractive. He was her boss, Gabrielle’s uncle, and a man in whom she couldn’t afford to invest any feelings.

  Perhaps all this confidence-building was starting to pay off and she was beginning to function as a warm-blooded human, no longer tied to her victim roots. She hoped so. Not because she had any intention of fostering an attraction to her boss, but because she wanted to feel like any other twenty-five-year-old single woman, who could engage with a good-looking man without having a meltdown.

  ‘Okay, so there’s no more confusion, I can categorically state I’m not a stripper.’

  ‘And I’m not father to a teenage girl—or anyone else for that matter. What age did you think I was anyway?’

  Henri let his ego peek out at the idea that he could be perceived as anything other than a young, eligible bachelor. It was an invitation for Lola to get her own back.

  She screwed her face up, as though she was really struggling with the idea that he wasn’t an old fogey. ‘Umm...eighty-five? Eighty-six?’

  ‘Very funny.’

  ‘Seriously, though, you have such a good way with the children, I’m sure I’m not the only one to have made that mistake. Obviously, it would’ve made you a teenage dad...’