An Eligible Stranger

by Tracy Sinclair

  Finally, he said, "All right, no means no, even though I don't agree." He walked her to the connecting door. "But you're just postponing the inevitable. Sooner or later we're going to make love, my beautiful wife," he said softly. "And it will be worth waiting for."

  Nicole left him wordlessly and got undressed in a daze. Was Philippe right? Would they make love eventually? And if so, why not now when her entire body ached for him? It was difficult to convince herself that she was doing the right thing.

  Sighing deeply, she reached up and turned out the bedside lamp.

  Chapter Nine

  Nicole's spirits were lighter the next morning. Her relationship with Philippe remained troubling, but there was no point in spoiling the rare day alone with him. Especially since it should be carefree and fun. He could scarcely get romantic at the winery.

  Nicole always made it a point to get up and have breakfast with Robbie even if she'd gotten in very late the night before. She felt it was important to start off his morning with a smile and a kiss. He was so involved with various activities that she saw little of him the rest of the day.

  Her bright mood dimmed when she and Robbie went downstairs and the butler told them Catherine had come for a visit.

  "Madame Galantoire is in the dining room," Paul said. "She is waiting for you and the young master to join her."

  "I don't wanna go in there. I wanna eat where we always do," Robbie said.

  They had breakfast and sometimes lunch, as well, in a lovely garden room that looked out over manicured lawns and leafy green trees, some of them bright with blossoms or berries.

  A child would naturally prefer that to the elegant formal dining room.

  "It's good to do something different now and then," Nicole told him. "Remember when you didn't want to have your hair cut in a barber shop? And after the first time, you couldn't wait to go back."

  Robbie wasn't convinced that it was the same thing, but he followed her to the dining room without further complaints.

  "There he is, my little bébé!" Catherine's face lit up when she saw Robbie.

  He stuck out his lower lip. "I'm not a baby."

  "She didn't mean it that way," Nicole said. "It was a term of endearment—you know, kind of like a compliment. Robbie is getting to be such a big boy, isn't he?" she said to Catherine, hoping to placate both of them.

  "I wouldn't know," the older woman answered coolly. "I missed his early years." Her smile returned when she looked at Robbie. "Come give your grand-mere a kiss, chérie."

  "I don't want to. She smells funny," he said to Nicole in a loud whisper.

  Catherine drew in her breath sharply. "That is incredibly rude! Didn't you ever teach the child manners? I'm absolutely appalled!"

  "I think he was referring to your perfume," Nicole said apologetically. "Children are sometimes blunt about what they like and don't like."

  "Is that supposed to make it all right?"

  "No, of course not." Nicole turned to Robbie. "I want you to apologize to your grandmother for hurting her feelings."

  "Why do I have to?" he asked rebelliously. "She said things about me."

  "That's no excuse. She's your grandmother, and you owe her respect. I don't ever want to hear you speak about her that way again."

  "Am I supposed to be impressed?" Catherine asked sarcastically. "I'm not. If you were fit to raise a child, you would have taught him respect for his elders a long time ago."

  "See?" Robbie said eagerly. "She isn't nice to you, either. Why do we have to be nice to her?"

  "I expect you to be polite to everybody," Nicole said firmly.

  "Even Sheldon Werby at play school? He put sand in my hair, so I pushed him hard."

  Before she could answer, the woman said, "I'm beginning to see why Philippe married you. He didn't trust you to raise Raymond's son the way a Galantoire should be raised."

  Nicole was so startled by Catherine's lucky guess that she was speechless for a moment.

  "That was your plan all along, wasn't it? To play on Philippe's concern for his nephew. He'd never marry someone like you unless he was forced into it."

  "You don't know your son very well." Nicole did her best to sound unruffled. "Nobody forces Philippe to do anything he doesn't want to do."

  "Not under ordinary circumstances, but once a woman lures a man into her bed, he stops thinking rationally."

  Nicole was aware of Robbie's anxious expression. "Perhaps it would be better if we postponed this discussion until a more suitable time."

  Catherine's face reddened unbecomingly. "You have the audacity to tell me what to do?"

  "If you're as concerned about your grandson as you profess to be, I shouldn't have to tell you," Nicole said bluntly.

  "I see what you're doing. You intend to tell Philippe that I'm a bad influence on the child. You've already turned my grandson against me. Now you're planning to alienate me from my son!"

  "I couldn't do that if I wanted to—which I don't." Nicole's anger lessened as she heard the thread of fear underlying the older woman's malice. "Whether you believe it or not, I'm hoping you and I can resolve our differences so we can get along like a nice, normal family. For Robbie's sake, if for no other reason."

  "How gullible do you think I am? You've taught the child to ridicule me, and you try to keep Philippe from even talking to me on the telephone. Is that your idea of a family?" Catherine rose and threw her napkin on the table, having worked herself into a rage. "Enjoy your little triumph while you can. You were clever enough to trap my son into marriage, but it won't last. You're not a Galantoire, and you never will be." She swept regally from the room.

  Robbie's eyes were enormous. "Why is she so mad at you, Aunt Nicky?"

  "She isn't really." Nicole smiled brightly. "Sometimes when adults have a discussion, they just appear to be angry. Your grandmother loves you a lot. It would make her happy if you could be a little nicer to her."

  "Do I have to?" he asked plaintively. "I don't like her."

  "You can't make up your mind about people until you get to know them better. Now finish your breakfast so you can go out and play." Nicole tried to appear unconcerned in order to minimize the nasty incident.

  Throughout the entire argument between the two women, Paul had served breakfast and poured coffee with a complete lack of expression on his face. They could have been speaking a foreign language he didn't understand.

  Nicole wondered if Catherine intended to tell Philippe about their disagreement. She certainly wasn't going to. It wouldn't be fair to ask him to choose sides between two warring women.

  Nicole was alone in the dining room, resting her head on one hand, when Philippe came to look for her.

  "Is anything wrong?" he asked.

  "No, everything is just dandy." She gave him a bright smile.

  "You looked troubled."

  "That was a look of concentration. I was dreaming up a new design. Would you like something to eat?" she asked hurriedly. "I'll have another cup of coffee and keep you company."

  "Thanks, but I already had breakfast. Don't you and Robaire usually have yours in the morning room?"

  "I like to vary his routine now and then." Nicole paused, reluctant to tell him they had a houseguest. She only hoped that Catherine wouldn't greet Philippe with all of her grievances. It would put him in a bad mood and spoil the nice day they had planned. Well, it couldn't be helped. Suppressing a sigh, Nicole said, "There's something I have to tell you."

  "You can tell me in the car," he said. "I want to speak to Paul about something before we leave. I'll meet you out front."

  Before she could delay him, he was gone.

  Philippe's meeting with the council had gone well. The zoning change meant he could make some long-anticipated improvements to his property, which he wanted to tell Nicole about. They were at least a mile from home before she managed to tell him that his mother was back at the chateau.

  Philippe frowned. "She didn't mention any plans for a visit when I spoke
to her on the phone last night. I wonder what prompted this sudden decision."

  "Maybe she came to see Robbie."

  "That's probably it." Philippe's face cleared. "Then she wouldn't have wanted to come with us today. I'm really looking forward to giving you the grand tour."

  The Galantoire winery sat on top of a hill, overlooking the picturesque countryside. A long driveway lined with shade trees wound through vineyards fragrant with grapes.

  As they approached the large, graceful building, Nicole remarked, "This isn't at all what I expected a winery to be. It looks more like a country estate."

  "Actually, it was a convent many years ago. The tasting room and executive offices are in the front. The real work is done in the back."

  The winery itself was dimly lit, cool and quiet. A series of large rooms were filled with huge vats, so tall they had metal ladders fastened to the sides. Philippe pointed out the spigots near the bottom of the casks and told her how the cellar master took samplings at regular intervals. He explained the entire wine-making process, from the crushing of the grapes through the fermentation and distillation.

  "You didn't expect such an in-depth lecture, did you?" he finally said with a slight laugh. "You've been such a good audience that I'm afraid I got carried away. Sorry about that."

  "Don't be. I found it fascinating," she said. "I'm especially impressed by how knowledgeable you are."

  "My father groomed Raymond and me from an early age. We started at the bottom and worked our way up. When Robaire is a little older, he'll follow in the family tradition so he can take over from me someday."

  "That isn't a certainty. You might have sons of your own."

  "Not unless you're a lot more cooperative." Philippe chuckled.

  Nicole didn't allow herself to think of how blissful it would be to have his child. "Our situation isn't permanent," she said carefully. "I'm sure you want a son. Most men do. You could marry again sometime in the future and have children."

  "It's possible, but Robaire will always have an important part in the business."

  Nicole felt chilled, and not just from the cool temperature in the fermentation room. Philippe had thought about the future—one that didn't include her. Well, what did she expect? They couldn't go on like this indefinitely.

  She was startled when Philippe put his arm around her shoulders. But the gesture wasn't personal.

  "Be careful of that puddle on the floor." He led her around a wet spot. "The workers try to keep the floors mopped, but spillage is difficult to see in this dim light. It's easy to slip."

  "Yes, it's certainly dark in here."

  "I'd explain why we keep it that way, but I think you've had enough technical information for one day."

  "I haven't been bored."

  "Look me in the eye and say that." He cupped her chin in his palm and raised her face to his.

  Nicole melted as she always did at any physical contact with Philippe, no matter how innocent. She stared at his firm mouth, longing to feel it move seductively over hers in a prelude to a passionate kiss that would set her on fire.

  Philippe's smile faded as he gazed at her dreamy face. His long fingers stroked her cheek and he murmured, "Sweet little Nicole, you're making it difficult for me to keep my promise. I want to make love to you right here, right now."

  She swayed toward him, unable to hide the fact that she wanted him with the same fervor.

  They were both too engrossed to realize they were no longer alone A worker's footsteps on the concrete floor finally alerted them.

  Philippe moved away from her with the poise she always envied. Did he snap back so effortlessly from their romantic encounters because he wasn't affected on the same level that she was? Nicole took a deep breath while he alerted the worker to the spilled wine on the floor by the vat.

  As they walked toward the door, Philippe said, "Now that you know how wine is made, I'll show you the final step before it goes to market."

  Nicole found the assembly line fascinating. The bottles marched down a conveyor belt in single file like little toy soldiers. They stopped briefly to have a cork inserted by a capping machine, then proceeded down the line to the spot where a different kind of machine applied a label.

  "It's like a toy factory!" Nicole exclaimed in delight. "Robbie would love this. We must bring him here."

  "That's a good idea, but we'll give him an abbreviated tour. He wouldn't be as polite as you've been."

  "I don't know why you say that. You had my full attention."

  "Shall I give you a pop quiz?" he teased.

  "No fair!" she said, laughing. "If I'd known you were going to ask questions, I would have taken notes."

  "All right, then, I'll take you to lunch instead. There's a delightful place near here that I think you'll like."

  Le Cheval Rouge was a charming little inn with checkered tablecloths and small shaded lamps that cast a soft glow, giving the dining room an intimate atmosphere.

  Philippe suggested several dishes that weren't on the menu, specialties of the house that proved to be delicious. He also ordered aperitifs before lunch and wine with their meal.

  "I'm not used to drinking this much at lunch," Nicole protested. "I'm afraid I'll fall asleep."

  "No problem. They have rooms upstairs. I'll carry you up to bed."

  "You don't give up easily, do you?" she asked lightly.

  "Do you want me to?" His eyes held hers.

  She could say yes, but Philippe knew how he affected her. What he must never know was the extent of her feelings for him. Nicole looked down at the table, concentrating on rolling some bread crumbs into a little ball.

  He reached over and covered her hand with his. "I won't try to convince you, chérie. I hope someday we'll make love, but only when you're ready—which I hope will be soon," he added with a grin. "Eat your lunch and don't look so serious. I'd hate to have people think we're having a lovers' quarrel when we aren't even lovers."

  Philippe dropped the subject after that. Nicole gradually relaxed as he told her amusing stories about growing up in Paris and some of the scrapes he had gotten into. The sexual tension was always present between them; nothing could change that. But they were laughing and joking together like longtime companions. It was an almost perfect relationship. Almost. What a difference that one little word made, she thought wistfully.

  Robbie was waiting impatiently for them when they returned home, which was a rarity. They usually had to go looking for him, then coax him to come inside. It was a pleasure to see him so involved and happy. That afternoon was an exception.

  "Jules had to go someplace with his mother, and I don't have anybody to play with," the little boy complained. "Where did you go?"

  Nicole told him about the winery and promised to take him the next time.

  "When you get a little older, you can work there like your father and I did," Philippe said.

  "What did you do?" Robbie asked.

  "We started out sorting the grapes before they went down the conveyor belt to the crushing machine. Raymond and I ate so many that we almost lost our jobs." Philippe chuckled.

  "I could do that," Robbie said eagerly. "I'm four already. That's pretty old."

  "You're right," Philippe agreed solemnly. "Well, we'll see when crushing season comes around." He paused as the butler entered the den.

  "Madame Galantoire said to tell you when you returned that she wishes a word with you."

  "I suppose I should tell her we're home," Philippe said with some reluctance after Paul had left. "Robaire, why don't you run upstairs and ask your grandmother to join us in the den?"

  The little boy looked at Nicole. "Do I have to?"

  Philippe frowned. "I wish you would be a little friendlier toward your grandmother. She came all the way from Paris just to be with you."

  "I don't care. I don't like her. She talked mean to Aunt Nicky."

  Philippe's gaze sharpened as he looked at Nicole. "You never mentioned it. Why didn't you tell me?"<
br />
  "It was nothing," she said dismissively. "Robbie just misunderstood."

  "No, I didn't," he insisted. "She got all red in the face, then she said Uncle Philippe doesn't trust you. And then she said you lured a man in your bed. I don't know what that means, but she looked like it was something bad."

  Nicole was appalled at how much of the nasty argument the child had understood. Maybe not completely, but too close for comfort.

  Philippe's square jaw set rigidly. "You should have told me about this," he said to Nicole. "My mother has stepped way over the line this time! I can only apologize and assure you it will never happen again."

  "See?" Robbie said triumphantly. "Uncle Philippe says I'm right!"

  "He didn't say that," Nicole corrected him hurriedly. "You gave him the wrong impression. I told you we were only having a discussion." Before the little boy could argue the point, she said, "Go upstairs and get ready for your bath. I'll be up in a minute to wash your ears."

  They both waited until he had left the room. Then Philippe said, "How could you keep something like this from me? You knew I wouldn't put up with it."

  Nicole shrugged. "What good would it do to start a big family row? It would only make your mother dislike me more—if that's possible," she added wryly.

  "She can damn well be civil to you!"

  "She's only here for a visit, so why start World War 3? Maybe she'll go back to Paris soon."

  "It wouldn't surprise me, not after the talk I intend to have with her," he said grimly.

  Nicole rose. "Robbie's waiting for me, so I'd better go. At least promise you won't lose your temper."

  "I'll try not to." That was as far as he would budge.

  Nicole felt flattered at Philippe's outrage on her behalf, but his mother would make things unpleasant for all of them if he was too blunt with her. She sighed and went into Robbie's room.

  Nicole usually hung up his clothes and put away his toys while he bathed, talking to him from the bedroom and looking in on him occasionally. But that day, she pulled up a stool and encouraged him to talk about Jules and the puppies, anything to erase Catherine's accusations from his mind.