An Eligible Stranger

by Tracy Sinclair

  "I might have misled you about Robaire's citizenship, but I have the same claim to him that you do. Your consul can't award custody. That's something for the court to decide—the French court, since the case will be heard here."

  Philippe's message came over loud and clear. The Galantoires were rich and influential in this country. The likelihood of a decision in her favor was almost nil. Nicole was beginning to feel like a small trapped animal.

  She eyed the passport on the desk as a solution came to her. Philippe would be going back to work, perhaps as early as tomorrow. When he did, she'd retrieve the passport and search his desk for her own.

  Then she'd take Robaire to the airport and catch the first flight home.

  As though he could read her mind, Philippe reached over casually and picked up the passport. Dropping it into his pocket, he said, "I'm sorry it was necessary to deceive you, but you left me no choice. In a way, I'm glad it's out in the open. There won't be any subterfuge between us from now on."

  "Do you think I'd ever trust you again! As soon as you can get Robbie to tolerate you, you intend to cut me out of his life."

  "I'm not the demon you think I am. I've seen how deeply you care for the boy. I just wish you showed the same understanding toward me."

  Nicole realized she'd have to compromise or lose her nephew completely. "I'll admit Robbie is related to you, too," she said with difficulty. "I don't want to prevent you from getting to know him, but neither of us wants him to be unhappy. So why don't we try to work out an agreement? What if he comes to visit you for perhaps a month every summer?"

  "That's unacceptable," Philippe said flatly.

  She hadn't thought it would be that easy. "Well then, let's split his custody—six months with each of us." Nicole hoped she'd find some loophole once she got Robbie home.

  "You can't bounce a little boy back and forth across the world like a tennis ball. He needs a stable home, with people willing to take the place of his parents."

  "Unfortunately, he will have to settle for less," she answered somberly.

  "Not necessarily." Philippe was looking at her speculatively. "You're not going to stop scheming to get Robaire all to yourself, and I don't intend to let you do it. The discord between us could go on for years, which would be very upsetting for a child."

  "That's all true, but what other solution is there?" she asked helplessly.

  "We could get married. Strictly for convenience," he added when she stared at him in amazement.

  "Is this some kind of bad joke?"

  "Not at all. It would solve our conflict—unless you're involved with somebody at home."

  "No, there's no one special," she answered, still in shock.

  "Then there's no problem. If we were married, Robaire would have the security of two parents who care about him. Instead of fighting over him, we'll raise the boy together."

  "I can't believe you're asking me to give up my independence, my job, my whole way of life, just to make your life easier!"

  "I doubt if even a real marriage could make you give up your independence," he remarked dryly. "You'll still be able to do pretty much whatever you want. All you're giving up is a modest apartment and a mediocre job. As my wife, you'll live a life of luxury and privilege. All of your bills will be paid and you'll have a generous allowance."

  "There are names for women who agree to that kind of arrangement," she said sardonically. "Kept woman is the most polite term."

  "My proposal differs in two important respects. First, we'll be legally married. Second, no quid pro quo is involved—in other words, no sex," he drawled.

  "That's understood. It never entered my mind," she lied. Of course she'd thought about it! What woman wouldn't be affected by that lean, powerful body and wicked charm?

  "I believe I could make it enjoyable for you." His gaze was sensuous as it moved from her face to her softly curved body.

  "You're not going to get the chance," she snapped. That part was true. This man could be habit-forming!

  "Foolish little Nicole." His voice was pure velvet. "Don't you know it's dangerous to challenge a man? It makes him feel the need to prove his manhood." For an instant, Philippe's eyes glowed like a stalking tiger's. Then his expression changed to indifference and he said matter-of-factly, "But it would only complicate matters needlessly if we made love. You have my promise that I'll stick to our bargain."

  "We don't have one!" He was doing it to her again. Taking her acquiescence for granted. But this was more important than being bullied into a trip to Paris. "I was completely satisfied with my life until you came into it! You don't know anything about me. Yes, my job was mediocre, but it was only a means to an end. I took the job so I could learn every aspect of the dress business from the bottom up."

  "You want to be a dress manufacturer?"

  "No, I want to be a designer. But you need to know how to do more than just design clothes. Those were the things I was learning. I hoped that when I had a little more experience, somebody at the place where I worked might look at my designs." Why was she telling him all this? Nicole wondered. This arrogant man couldn't care less.

  Philippe was gazing at her thoughtfully. "Would you like a professional opinion of your work?"

  "Who did you have in mind?" she asked skeptically. Her eyes widened when he mentioned a famous couturier.

  "He'll give you an honest opinion, perhaps even some advice on how to get started."

  A wave of excitement made her heart beat faster. She'd never even dreamed of a chance like this! If such a famous man liked her designs, it could mean the start of her career!

  Philippe gazed in bemusement at her sparkling eyes and softly parted lips. If a simple favor could produce such rapture, how would she react in the arms of a man who could give her more tangible pleasure?

  Nicole forced herself back to reality. Philippe's offer was too good to be true. "Why would you do a thing like that for me?" she demanded.

  "My motive is purely selfish," he answered calmly. "If you make a new life for yourself here, you'll be content to stay and raise Robaire with me. I'll throw in an added incentive. If you prove to have talent, I'll back you in your own business. I'll even recommend you to all my female friends to get you started."

  "You'd do all that for Robbie?" she asked slowly.

  He shrugged. "I told you, I don't like to lose."

  She didn't believe that explanation. Philippe must care more for his nephew than she thought. As she stared at his strong face, Nicole couldn't help wondering if he could ever care that much about a woman.

  "So, do we have a deal? I don't know what else I can add." He gave her a mischievous smile. "You ruled out any of my personal services."

  "I haven't noticed that you ever take no for an answer."

  "You're a very beautiful woman. Any man would consider it a privilege to make love to you. But neither of us wants to get involved. A platonic marriage will give us both what we want. You can count on me to keep my end of the bargain, for selfish reasons if no other." He gave her a charming smile. "Will you marry me, Miss Trent?"

  Her immediate answer would have been a flat, unequivocal no! But once the shock had worn off, she began to consider her options. If she refused his offer, Philippe could—and would—make her life miserable. Whereas if she accepted, Robbie would certainly benefit.

  Nicole would never admit it to Philippe, but she realized he could give Robbie things she couldn't, like a secure environment and a good education. She would have done her best, but she could never provide all the child was entitled to. That didn't mean she intended to give up her sister's son, but if she accepted Philippe's offer, she wouldn't have to. No war was won without some compromise. It was either that or lose Robbie completely.

  Once her decision was made, it didn't seem so dire. With an impish gleam in her eyes, she said, "Shouldn't a proposal be delivered on one knee?"

  "I think a handshake would be more appropriate in this case." Now that she'd accepted, Philipp
e was all business. "I'll make the arrangements. Tomorrow might be cutting it a little close, but I think we can be married the following day."

  "That's so soon!" she gasped.

  "There's no reason to wait. It isn't as if we were having a big wedding with bridesmaids and ushers and all the hoopla."

  "That's true. This is just a business arrangement," she said in a brittle voice to cover a nagging sense of disappointment.

  Philippe looked at her closely. "I realize this isn't the wedding you dreamed about," he said gently. "If you'd like a big ceremony and all it entails, you can have it. I just thought this might be easier for you since you wouldn't know any of the guests."

  "You're right. This is a lot more appropriate under the circumstances." She turned to leave. "I'd better prepare Robbie for the news that he's going to have a new father. I don't think it will be an easy sell."

  "Perhaps you can wait until after I tell my mother."

  Nicole smiled mirthlessly. "I don't know which of them will take it harder. We'd better postpone our visit until after she's gotten over the shock."

  "Mother is very anxious to see Robaire. I'll tell her later this evening, in private."

  Nicole wasn't looking forward to meeting Madame Galantoire, and Robbie had to be coaxed into going. The unfamiliar surroundings and the disruption of his normal schedule had changed the sunny-tempered little boy into a cranky rebellious child.

  Madame Galantoire lived in an apartment rather than a town house, but it covered one entire floor of the building. Like Philippe's house the apartment was filled with beautiful and costly things.

  Catherine Galantoire was an imposing woman with beautifully coiffed gray hair and a reserved manner. She greeted Nicole with chilly courtesy, leaving no doubt that her opinion of the Trent family was unchanged.

  Her austere expression altered when she turned to her grandson. "He looks like Raymond," she said softly. "What a beautiful child! Come give your grandmother a kiss, chérie."

  Robbie looked up at Nicole, ignoring the bejeweled hand she extended to him. "I don't wanna kiss her," he whispered. "Can we go home now?"

  "She's just trying to be nice," Nicole told him in a low voice without looking at either Galantoire. This wasn't her fault, but she knew they'd hold her responsible. She was right about the older woman, at least.

  Catherine's cheekbones were flushed with anger. "Don't believe what you have been told about me, Robaire. Come over here to me. I am your grandmother!"

  Philippe intervened hastily. "Perhaps the boy would like some refreshments."

  He used a bellpull to summon a maid, who responded almost instantly by wheeling in a tea cart covered with an enticing array of food. A fine porcelain platter was covered with tiny sandwiches, and a chafing dish held little puff pastries filled with lobster in a rich sauce. Various petits fours and cookies, all frosted and decorated, filled the three tiers of a silver cake stand.

  Robbie was intrigued by the lavish display. He left Nicole's side for the first time and wandered over to the tea cart.

  Catherine was delighted. "Here, mon ange, let Grandmother help you." She piled a small plate with the seafood puffs and sandwiches and handed it to him along with a napkin.

  Robbie took the plate but not the napkin, then bit into a puff pastry that he immediately spit out. "Yuck!" he said, wiping his mouth on his sleeve.

  "No, no, chérie," Catherine admonished him. "A gentleman does not spit out what he does not like. You must also use your napkin." She gave Nicole an indignant look. "Is this how you are raising my grandson?"

  "This particular situation never came up. It would never have occurred to me to serve him lobster in a sherry cream sauce."

  Philippe defused the sticky moment by offering Robbie a miniature eclair. "Try one of these. They were my favorites when I was your age. Remember, Mother?"

  A confrontation between the two women was averted, but it wasn't a successful visit. Catherine tried to make up to Robbie, but she hadn't a clue about how to treat a small child. If she ever did know, she'd forgotten. Not surprisingly, he refused all of her overtures.

  Nicole was thankful that Philippe had decided to tell his mother in private about his wedding plans. Would he explain to her that it was going to be a marriage in name only? It would take more than that to placate the older woman, Nicole thought mockingly.

  She mentioned that to Philippe on the way back to his house. "I don't know how I ever agreed to your proposition. Can't you see it will never work? Your mother detests me, and I have to admit she isn't my favorite person, either."

  "It isn't necessary for you to be friends," he said dismissively. "We're doing this for Robaire." He lowered his voice. "You'd better have a talk with him when we get home. I made some preliminary phone calls this afternoon and I think we can have the ceremony tomorrow in the early evening."

  "Even you couldn't arrange things that fast!"

  Philippe smiled faintly. "Don't ever make the mistake of underestimating me."

  Nicole felt like a leaf being swept over a waterfall. She made an effort to regain control of her life. "Don't think you can make all the decisions and just expect me to go along with them. I should have some input. Who is going to marry us and where? I don't intend to leave Robbie at home alone."

  The little boy glanced up at her in concern. "Where are you going, Aunt Nicky? I want to go with you."

  "She isn't going anywhere," Philippe answered. "We're having a little party at my house and you're invited."

  "Is it your birthday? Are we gonna have cake and ice cream?"

  "If that's what you want. I thought we'd have the wedding at home," Philippe said to Nicole. "A friend of mine is a judge. He's agreed to perform the ceremony. If you'd like flowers and music, or anything else, I'll gladly provide them."

  "No, that would be foolish since this won't be a real wedding."

  "Mommy and Daddy took me to a wedding once when the baby-sitter didn't show up," Robbie said. "I had fun. It was like a great big party. Can I have a birthday party when we go back to our real home, Aunt Nicky?"

  "I think this would be a good time to tell him," Philippe murmured. When she couldn't bring herself to make it official, he said, "You're going to live here with me from now on, Robaire. Your aunt and I are getting married."

  The little boy gave her a puzzled look. "Mommy said people get married when they're in love. Are you in love with him?"

  "Well, uh, if we live here, you'll have lots of things you don't have at home," she said evasively. "I'll bet your uncle will even buy you that little car you saw at the toy store. The one you sit in and pedal."

  "Wow! Would you really?" Robbie looked at him with shining eyes.

  "We'll go shopping for it together," Philippe promised.

  Robbie talked excitedly about the car for a while before his attention returned to the intriguing subject of marriage. "Are you gonna sleep in the same bed like Mommy and Daddy?" he asked Nicole.

  "No," she answered shortly.

  "Why not?"

  "Because Uncle Philippe has such a big house that we can each have our own bedroom."

  "Nice return," Philippe said with a grin.

  "Then how are you gonna have babies?" Robbie persisted. "My friend Kevin says that's how married people get babies. They sleep together."

  "I'll let you field this one," she told Philippe.

  "I don't suppose you'd approve of giving sole credit to the stork?" he asked.

  "No, and kids don't believe the cabbage-patch story, either."

  Nicole felt her tension lift for the first time as she and Philippe joked together. Maybe their marriage wouldn't be such a disaster after all.

  Nicole's apprehensions returned in full force as the day and time set for the wedding approached. Had she made a pact with the devil? Philippe had an uncanny knack of getting his own way. He was even making progress with Robbie!

  It had started when they returned from Catherine Galantoire's and found Robbie's room filled w
ith child-size furniture and toys. Philippe knew just what carrots to dangle before which noses, Nicole thought cynically. A career for her and lavish gifts for Robbie.

  He was downstairs now, carrying a new stuffed toy and anticipating a party. He couldn't be pried away from her side before this.

  Nicole left her room and went slowly down the staircase, hoping she was doing the right thing.

  Voices were coming from the den. As she approached, she could see a distinguished-looking older man talking to Philippe while Robbie was happily eating ice cream and cake. He'd had his dinner earlier.

  The two men turned when Nicole appeared, and both registered admiration. She just happened to be wearing a white dress although she certainly wasn't trying to look like a bride. It was the only thing suitable in the limited wardrobe she'd brought with her.

  The classic A-line dress wasn't new, but Nicole had always liked its simple lines and versatility. For casual affairs she'd often added a cardigan with bright appliquéd flowers. Tonight she wore a short strand of pearls instead. Was the effect too bridal? she wondered nervously.

  The two men didn't seem to think so. "You look lovely," Philippe said before introducing the other man—the judge, presumably—as Marcel Lavoire.

  He lifted her hand to his lips. "Philippe has always had an eye for the charming ladies. It is no surprise that he picked the most beautiful one to be his bride."

  She gave Philippe a puzzled look. The other man seemed to think this was a normal wedding.

  "Will you excuse us for a moment?" Philippe said to his friend. He took Nicole's hand and led her to the other side of the room.

  "Didn't you explain the situation to him?" she asked in a low voice so they wouldn't be overheard.

  "I thought it would be better for Robaire if our bargain wasn't common knowledge. People would be sure to discuss it, perhaps in front of their children, his future playmates. How would we answer him if he asked if we were really married?"

  "I guess we could truthfully say yes."

  "Are you prepared to answer the rest of his questions? Why we don't share a bedroom, what a business agreement means? If he thinks we don't have a real marriage, he might worry that his life would be disrupted again."