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An Eligible Stranger

Page 12

by Tracy Sinclair


  She needn't have worried. A four-year-old's memory is fleeting at best. Robbie was more interested in telling her about a birthday party he was invited to and showing her how his rubber duck popped up when he submerged it under water.

  By the time his bath was over, Nicole was glad she'd made a quick change into jeans and a T-shirt. She was soaked to the skin. While Robbie was playing in his room, she went into her own room to put on dry clothes.

  Nicole was just about to strip off her wet T-shirt when there was a knock at the door. "Who is it?" she asked warily, not wanting to go another round with Catherine.

  "It's Philippe. May I come in?"

  She hesitated. "Can you come back in about five minutes?"

  "This won't take long. I just want to verify something before I speak to Mother."

  Nicole stopped worrying about her disheveled appearance and went to the door. This was more important than how she looked. Was Philippe going to disregard her advice?

  He didn't seem to notice at first that she'd changed clothes. Striding restlessly around the room, he said, "I was thinking about what Robbie said. Did Mother actually tell you that I don't trust you?"

  "Not exactly. She said you didn't trust me to raise Robbie like a Galantoire should be raised." Nicole smiled ironically. "You can't be angry at her for that. You said the same thing when we first met."

  "And I was just as mistaken." Philippe came over and put his hands on her arms. "That was before I knew what a kind, caring person you are."

  "I kept telling you, but you wouldn't believe me," she joked.

  "I had to find out for myself." His fond expression changed to something more intense as he gazed at her.

  Nicole suddenly realized that her wet T-shirt was plastered to her breasts, leaving nothing to his imagination. The pink tips were almost as clearly visible as if she were nude.

  Trust Philippe to show up whenever she looked unintentionally sexy. This was the way he'd seen her the first time they met—and it was still just as embarrassing!

  When she started to cross her arms over her breasts, Philippe's hands tightened, preventing her from concealing herself. "Let me look at you, darling. Your body is so beautiful."

  "I have to change clothes and take Robbie downstairs for his dinner," she murmured, trying to sound convincing.

  "It's still early." His hands slipped under the hem of her shirt and caressed her waist before moving up with tantalizing deliberation.

  Nicole made a tiny sound of delight when his fingertips stroked her breasts sensuously and circled her taut nipples.

  "I can't stay away from you," he groaned. "I know I'm only torturing both of us, but when I see you like this, I can't help myself."

  "I can't, either," she whispered. Every erotic en-counter was fueling her need for this man, chipping away at her resolve.

  "I shouldn't be doing this to you." But instead of moving away, Philippe drew her close and buried his face in her hair.

  The heat he was generating burned away her inhibitions. She dug her fingers into his rigid buttocks and pulled his hips even closer to hers. He uttered a hoarse cry and arched his back, making her even more aware of his raging desire.

  While his mouth hungrily possessed hers, he slid both hands inside her waistband and cupped her bottom, lifting her into the juncture of his hardened loins.

  "We can't stop now," Philippe said in a ragged voice.

  "I know," she whispered, pulling his shirt out of his slacks.

  "Darling girl, this is like a dream come true," he murmured as he unzipped her jeans.

  They were so engrossed in each other that at first they didn't hear the sounds coming from Philippe's room. The peremptory knocking became insistent and Catherine's voice could be heard, muffled but unmistakable.

  "Philippe? I know you're in there. Open this door!"

  "I don't believe it!" Philippe exclaimed, raising his head and staring at Nicole. "This is the second time she's done this to us."

  Her body protested against the intrusion as strongly as his. Every instinct told her to ignore it. Then sanity returned, and she took a deep breath.

  "These interruptions aren't accidental." She fastened her jeans with shaking fingers. "Your mother is trying to keep us from making love." Nicole laughed bitterly. "That's kind of funny when you think about it."

  "It's also unrealistic. She can't check on us all night."

  "Maybe the servants told her we don't sleep together—in the same bedroom, I mean. She might think our marriage is in trouble and she's trying to make sure we don't repair it."

  "I know she hasn't become reconciled yet to the fact that we're married," Philippe said slowly. "But I don't think she'd try to break us up."

  "I'm sure she thinks it's in your best interests, but it's time you made your mother face some hard facts." The frustration that filled Nicole made her more caustic than she would normally have been. "If our marriage falls apart, Robbie's custody is once more up for grabs. I realize you have unlimited wealth to fight for him, but don't think it will be a slam dunk. I'll play the sympathy card and every other trick I can think of."

  Philippe's expression changed. "He's really the only one you care about, isn't he?"

  "Robbie's welfare is the reason we got married," she answered indirectly. "I agreed to your terms because I didn't have any choice."

  "But you had no intention of getting further involved." He smiled mockingly as he headed for the door. "I almost slipped under your guard a couple of times, including tonight. Too bad you recovered in time. It would have given me a great advantage."

  Nicole felt as though he'd slapped her. She'd managed to keep her true feelings hidden, but he was being honest. Philippe wouldn't have passed up a chance to make love to her, but not because of any deep longing. His secret agenda was to make her emotionally dependent on him.

  How could she continue the mockery of their marriage? But what else could she do?

  Chapter Ten

  Nicole forced herself to go down to dinner that night although she dreaded having to face Philippe and his mother. For once, luck was on her side. Paul informed her that Philippe had gone out and—equally good news—Catherine had returned to Paris.

  He must have had a frank discussion with his mother and told her to lighten up or else. It didn't give Nicole any satisfaction. Philippe hadn't done it for her sake.

  The next few days were easier than she expected because Philippe left for Paris, ostensibly on business. That meant they didn't have to attend the endless round of social events. Nicole was urged to come without him, but she made up various excuses.

  Surprisingly, Robbie missed his uncle. He'd grown accustomed to Philippe by now, but Nicole hadn't realized how much a part of the little boy's life Philippe had become.

  "When is he coming home?" Robbie asked. "He was gonna take me and Jules fishing."

  "Maybe Jules's father can take you," she suggested.

  "No, he has to work. Besides, I want Uncle Philippe. He tells me all kinds of neat stories about stuff he did when he was a little boy."

  "I'll tell you stories."

  "I already heard all your stories."

  Nicole had the bleak feeling that she was being edged out of Robbie's life. Philippe could provide everything the child needed. Once he realized he'd gained Robbie's affection, her usefulness would be over.

  Nicole told herself she was indulging in self-pity. Robbie depended on her for a lot of things. A child needed both a mother and a father figure in his life.

  All the same, it was time she got on with her own life. She should have been working harder on her designs. What with one thing and another, she'd completed very few sketches since they moved to the country. If her marriage unraveled—as all the signs indicated—she needed a career to fall back on.

  Philippe returned in time for the weekend, which delighted Robbie, at least. He and Nicole were sitting on the terrace playing Go Fish when Philippe arrived. The adults greeted each other politely, in co
ntrast to the little boy, who raced over to hug his uncle's legs enthusiastically.

  "Did you bring me something?" he asked eagerly. "Mommy and Daddy always brought me a present when they came home from a trip."

  "Paul took my luggage inside. Ask him to give you the shopping bag I brought." Philippe ruffled the child's hair fondly.

  "Oh, boy!" Robbie tore into the house.

  Nicole rose and prepared to follow him, not wanting to be alone with Philippe.

  "Don't go," he said. "I have a present for you, too."

  "That wasn't necessary."

  "I couldn't let our one-month anniversary go by without some recognition."

  "Has it only been a month?" she exclaimed.

  "I know it seems much longer," he said mockingly.

  It did seem longer, but not the way he meant. The past seemed very distant since Philippe came into her life and gave it color and excitement.

  "Consider this a consolation prize," he drawled, taking a blue velvet box out of his breast pocket and handing it to her.

  Inside was a diamond-and-sapphire pin in the shape of a bird. Its eyes were cabochon sapphires, and the wings were a combination of the two kinds of jewels, only these were faceted, so they sparkled brilliantly in the sunlight.

  "It's gorgeous!" she gasped. "But you really shouldn't have. I mean, under the circumstances…" Her voice trailed off.

  "Because of our difference of opinion the other night? You simply reminded me of the reason you married me. The chemistry is so strong between us that I tend to forget that on certain occasions. Even you, the steel butterfly, were guilty of a lapse of memory." His mouth curved derisively.

  "Please, Philippe," Nicole murmured. She couldn't bear to be reminded of the paradise that kept eluding her.

  "I could tell our desire was mutual," he continued in spite of her protest. "So I couldn't understand your reluctance. I'm glad you were finally honest with me."

  "You act as if I was guilty of some kind of deception. You married me for the same reason I married you."

  "That's true. You're a lot more pragmatic than I am. It's a mistake in any business relationship to get emotionally involved."

  "I agree," she said stiffly.

  "Now that we've cleared the air, you don't have to worry about any future incidents. Unfortunately, we still have to act like a loving couple in public, but that shouldn't be difficult since we both know it's just a necessary evil."

  Nicole didn't think she'd ever been more miserable. They weren't even friends anymore. Philippe considered her a business partner—one he'd get rid of in a heartbeat when the time was right.

  Fighting for composure, she held out the velvet box. "I can't accept this."

  "You deserve it after all you've had to put up with."

  "I never expected this job to be easy," she answered coolly.

  "Then consider it a prop in our little playlet. You can wear it to the brunch on Sunday."

  Nicole was momentarily distracted. "What brunch?"

  "Surely you haven't forgotten," he said sardonically. "The Clermonts are giving a champagne brunch in honor of our one-month anniversary. We have to go. We're the guests of honor."

  "Will your friends ever stop celebrating our marriage?" Nicole asked hopelessly.

  "Not until somebody else gets married or makes the news another way. They need some reason for their endless round of parties. I thought you were enjoying them."

  She was, until things went so wrong with Philippe. In the beginning, it had been merely an annoyance when he teased her by hugging and kissing her in public, knowing she couldn't object. Now it would be torture.

  Robbie returned carrying a gift box filled with brightly colored, but unidentifiable, pieces of a toy. "I tried to put this together, but the pieces don't fit. I didn't break it," the little boy said anxiously as he handed the box to his uncle.

  "Let's see what we can do about it." Philippe sat cross-legged on the flagstone and took the pieces out of the box.

  "What is it supposed to be?" Nicole asked.

  "I hope it will be a fire truck." He was reading the instructions. "How do they expect kids to assemble these things? You need an engineering degree."

  "You can do it, though, can't you, Uncle Philippe?"

  "Certainement." Philippe grinned at the little boy. "In English that means you can count on it."

  Robbie's worried expression eased as he brought the box over to show Nicole the picture. "Uncle Philippe is really neat! He can do anything," he said confidently.

  Philippe raised his head and gazed at Nicole for a moment. "Well, almost anything."

  After the toy truck was assembled, he showed Robbie how to activate the siren and make the ladders go up and down.

  Robbie was ecstatic. "I wanna show Jules. Will you come with me? I mean, right now!"

  Nicole had a lump in her throat as she watched the tall man and the little boy walk away hand in hand. This made it worth all the pain. Her sister's son was the important one after all.

  Nicole wore narrow white silk pants to the brunch, topped by a powder-blue cashmere sweater to match the diamond-and-sapphire pin Philippe had given her. She'd pinned it to the sweater. It was easier than arguing about it. What difference did it make anyway? It wasn't as though the pin had any sentiment attached.

  Philippe noticed it instantly, but he didn't comment. All the women at the party did, however.

  "I adore your brooch," Monique, their hostess, exclaimed. "It's absolutely gorgeous!"

  "Thank you." Nicole managed a smile. "Philippe gave it to me for our one-month anniversary."

  "That's so romantic! I hope you know how lucky you are to have a husband like Philippe."

  "Nicole expressed her feelings, I can assure you." His eyes sparkled with hidden amusement as he urged her rigid body close to his side.

  "A diamond pin would bring that reaction from any woman," one of the men observed cynically.

  "Not Nicole," Philippe said. "Her reactions are always unexpected."

  "That's supposed to be the key to a happy marriage," François, the host, commented. "Always keep your mate guessing."

  "Philippe knows exactly how I feel about him," Nicole drawled, turning her face up to his. Two could play at that game!

  He retaliated by holding her closer and kissing the corner of her mouth. "Very few marriages are like ours."

  Claudine arrived, creating a merciful diversion. As always, she looked stunning in a designer outfit that showcased her excellent figure.

  Philippe left their group immediately and went over to say hello. So much for his idyllic marriage, Nicole thought sardonically. He and Claudine had a short private conversation before a couple of the other guests joined them.

  Some time later, Nicole met up with Claudine in a summerhouse on the grounds. The brunch was being held outside on the vast manicured lawns of the Clermont estate.

  "You look terrific," Claudine told her.

  "You do, too. Is that an Escada you're wearing?" Nicole asked.

  "You really know your designers."

  "That was the business I was in. I recognize their work even if I can't afford their prices," Nicole joked.

  Claudine looked surprised. "You can now."

  "Well, uh, yes, that's true. But I guess I pinched pennies for so long it got to be a habit. Is Justin here with you today?" she asked quickly to change the subject. "I haven't seen him."

  "No, and you won't. Justin is history."

  "That's too bad. He was very good-looking."

  "It isn't enough," Claudine said dismissively. "Justin has too many hang-ups for me. I guess Philippe spoiled me for other men."

  Nicole was speechless. For the first time, Claudine was admitting that she and Philippe had been more than friends.

  "You don't know how fortunate you are," she continued.

  "That's what everybody keeps telling me." Nicole tried for an amused tone but didn't quite succeed.

  Philippe approached without either
of them noticing. He came up in back of Nicole, put his arms around her waist and kissed the soft skin in back of her ear.

  "What are the two most beautiful women at the party talking about?" he asked.

  "You should have been here," Claudine told him. "I was telling Nicole that I'm looking for a man exactly like you."

  "Did she offer to hand me over?" Philippe asked lightly.

  "That would be too much to hope for," Claudine answered in the same jesting tone.

  François approached, holding up a jeroboam of champagne. He was followed by a servant carrying a tray of glasses.

  "Everybody gather around," François called. "We have to toast the happy couple before brunch is served."

  People drifted over to form a circle around Philippe and Nicole and their hosts. After all the glasses were filled, François made the first toast, a nice tribute to love and marriage. Then the guests joined in. Some of the toasts were sentimental, some slightly ribald..

  Finally, François said, "Now it's time to give the guests of honor a chance. Philippe?"

  Philippe looked deeply into Nicole's eyes and said, "I want to thank my lovely bride for making me realize what I've been missing all these years. I will always owe her a debt of gratitude for enriching my life."

  Someone took the glass out of his hand as he folded Nicole in his arms. She responded instantly and without conscious thought. When his mouth closed over hers, everyone else ceased to exist. She was in a magical world where Philippe loved her, only her, and they would live happily ever after.

  Her compliance brought a low sound of pleasure deep in his throat. Philippe was as oblivious to the others as she was. Sliding his mouth across her cheek, he murmured in her ear, "You're so sweet and natural. You make me ashamed of myself."

  There was applause after Philippe's toast, then some joking comments when they showed no signs of drawing apart. Finally, Philippe, at least, became aware of their audience. He released her reluctantly.

  While he fended off the good-natured teasing, his murmured words finally registered with Nicole.

  Why was Philippe ashamed? For trying so relentlessly to seduce her? Or because he'd never broken off his affair with Claudine? Was Philippe taking advantage of both of them?

 

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