An Eligible Stranger

by Tracy Sinclair

  When she looked up at him doubtfully, he smiled and kissed the tip of her nose. "My bride is too polite to say so, François, but I think she's getting hungry."

  "Thank heavens!" Monique exclaimed. "I didn't like to interrupt the toasts, but the chef is having a nervous breakdown in the kitchen. His soufflés are almost ready to come out of the oven."

  They all drifted over to the round tables that had been set up on the lawn. Each table was covered with an embroidered yellow organdy cloth, centered by a bowl of fragrant tea roses. The crystal compotes at each place setting, filled with strawberries, black raspberries and mango slices, made the tables even more colorful.

  It wasn't your average brunch, Nicole reflected— but nothing about her life was average since she'd married Philippe. Waiters continued to pour champagne, while more waiters served individual cheese soufflés, plus a number of other delicacies.

  Everyone was in a jovial mood. In the general hilarity, nobody except Philippe noticed that Nicole was unusually quiet.

  "I'm sorry this is such an ordeal for you," he said in a low voice. "We'll leave as soon as brunch is over."

  "It isn't an ordeal," she said quickly.

  "You don't have to pretend with me. I know you too well by now."

  "I wonder if a man and a woman ever really know each other?" She sighed unconsciously, thinking of their lack of trust in each other. His suspicion was unwarranted. Was hers?

  "People have a better chance of knowing each other if they talk things out instead of losing their tempers," Philippe said. "I'm referring to myself."

  She couldn't help smiling. "My temper is rather volatile, too."

  "You see? We have a lot in common." His laughter died as he said, "I did a lot of thinking about us while I was alone in Paris. We both—" He paused as Claudine gestured from across the table to get their attention.

  "We'll finish our discussion later," Philippe murmured to Nicole.

  After brunch, the guests wandered around the beautiful grounds while the tables were being cleared. Philippe's plan to leave early was foiled by their hostess.

  "The entertainment will start shortly," she announced. "You're all going to love this magician I found."

  "At least two of us aren't going to stick around to find out," Philippe muttered.

  "Be polite," Nicole scolded. "Monique went to a lot of trouble for us. We can't possibly leave now."

  "I suppose you're right." He took her hand and led her away from the others, into a patch of woods that bordered the lawn. "I'd like to clear things up between us as soon as possible, though. As I started to say at the table earlier, I'm sorry about our quarrel the other night. I said a lot of things I didn't mean."

  "People often tell the truth when they're angry," she said quietly.

  "The only truth is, it came as a shock to find out you still regard me as the enemy. That's why I overreacted. You should know I'd never try to cut you off from Robaire, no matter how our personal relationship turns out." He stroked her hair gently. "Even if we're not lovers, we can still be friends."

  Nicole fought against the spell Philippe could weave so easily. "Friends don't use sex to gain an advantage," she said harshly. "You said yourself it would have given you leverage."

  "That's just one of the many stupid things I've said to you." He framed her face in his palms and gazed deeply into her eyes. "You have to know how much I want to make love to you, chérie. When I kiss you and touch your exquisite body, do you honestly believe I'm thinking of anything except how blissful it would be to bury myself inside you?"

  Nicole's heart thundered in her breast as she remembered his seductive hands caressing her sensuously while his mouth drove her wild with desire.

  "We've had a lot of misunderstandings, but they aren't insurmountable. I'm willing to do whatever it takes to mend our relationship. I want you to be as happy as I've been since you came into my life," he said in a husky voice.

  She looked at him uncertainly, wanting to believe, yet afraid of being hurt again. "Whenever we're getting along, something always happens to spoil it."

  "Most marriages are rocky in the beginning, darling. It's only natural when two formerly independent people live together. But we have a special incentive to make our marriage work. We're raising a child together, a little boy we both love."

  Nicole could no longer doubt his sincerity. Budding happiness started to unfold inside her like a beautiful flower. "I'm willing to give it another try if you are," she said with a bubbly little laugh.

  "My darling wife!" Philippe folded her in his arms, but with tenderness rather than passion.

  As Nicole relaxed against him and inhaled the clean male scent of his skin, Monique called from the distance, "The show will start in about ten minutes."

  Nicole and Philippe drew apart reluctantly. When they started back, she noticed Claudine standing at the edge of the lawn, staring at them intently. Something about her fixed gaze made Nicole uncomfortable. She might have mentioned it to Philippe, but they were stopped by one of the male guests who wanted a word with him.

  While they were standing on the lawn, a light breeze sprang up, ruffling Nicole's hair. She discovered one of her earrings was gone when she brushed a strand of hair off her cheek. The earring probably fell off when Philippe was cradling her face in his hands, she thought, smiling in remembrance. With a murmured excuse, she left the men and went back into the woods.

  The piece wasn't valuable, but the earrings had been a gift from a dear friend. Nicole was determined not to lose it. After searching the path without success, she went into the denser underbrush. She was crouched down, examining the leaf-strewn ground when she heard Claudine's voice, followed by Philippe's.

  Nicole didn't intend to eavesdrop—at least, it wasn't a conscious decision. But their first words left her stunned.

  "Couldn't this have waited?" Philippe asked with a trace of impatience.

  "How can you be so insensitive?" Claudine exclaimed. "Haven't you noticed how miserable I've been all day?"

  "I'm sorry, chérie," he said in a softened voice. "I know what you're going through, but everything will work out."

  "You keep saying that, but nothing happens! When I saw the way you looked at Nicole just now, I wanted to cry."

  "Your time will come," he said soothingly.

  "When? I don't want to spend the rest of my life alone."

  "You won't ever be alone, my dear. I'll always be here for you."

  Nicole was in shock. Philippe had staged the whole reconciliation scene with her just a few minutes ago— right down to the same husky voice and soulful glances.

  And she'd fallen for it! She'd believed him when he said he'd do anything to make her happy. Of course he would, Nicole thought bitterly. If he kept her happy, she'd be content to stay married to him and wouldn't make trouble over Robbie.

  And all this time, the one he really cared about was Claudine. His only problem was convincing the other woman that patience was a virtue. But that was only a minor problem for a man like Philippe. He had awesome ways of convincing a woman.

  But not this woman, not anymore! Philippe had deceived her for the last time. Nicole's eyes were bleak as she faced a future without him. Then she squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. She would survive.

  Chapter Eleven

  After a sleepless night, Nicole made a wrenching decision. She had to go back to San Francisco and try to pick up the pieces of her life. It broke her heart to leave Robbie, but he would be better off in France. Philippe might not love any woman, but he loved his nephew. And the child had grown to love him. Philippe could charm the devil himself, Nicole thought hopelessly.

  She would phone and write to Robbie regularly. And maybe when the bitterness faded, Philippe would let him come visit her. She could never come back here.

  But she had the present to deal with right now. Her face was pale, yet composed when she went downstairs to talk to Philippe. It wasn't going to be easy.

  He'd k
nown something had gone wrong at the brunch yesterday. Nicole had pleaded a sudden headache, which didn't satisfy him. She did look drawn, though, so he didn't pester her with questions. She braced herself now for the coming battle.

  Philippe reacted with shock to the news that she was leaving. When she told him why, he was incredulous.

  "You can't still be jealous of Claudine! What does it take to convince you that there is nothing romantic between us? I thought you finally believed me."

  "Like I believed everything else you told me?" she asked bitterly.

  "What has happened to upset you, chérie? Tell me and I'll make it better," he said in a honeyed voice, moving toward her.

  "Don't touch me!" Nicole's body was rigid. As disillusioned as she was with him, Philippe had a way of melting the ice around her heart.

  "At least tell me what's wrong," he pleaded.

  "I heard your private conversation with Claudine at the party yesterday. I was in the bushes, looking for the earring you knocked off during that touching scene where you told me how much our marriage meant to you. You were so convincing that I didn't realize I'd lost it."

  "Not that convincing, evidently. You must have had some lingering doubts about my sincerity or you wouldn't have been listening in the bushes."

  "Don't try to make me the guilty party! You're the one who's been playing games from the moment you found out about Robbie. I might be able to condone that, but trying to make love to me so I wouldn't ask awkward questions about your private life was despicable!"

  Philippe looked at her impassively. "You've decided that was my motivation?"

  "Don't try to tell me it wasn't. I heard you tell Claudine that everything would work out and she wouldn't be alone."

  "Is that what this is all about?" he exclaimed. "You misunderstood completely! I was only—"

  "You needn't bother to think up a creative explanation," Nicole interrupted. "I wouldn't believe you even if you told the truth—which would be a novelty."

  His jaw set. "I can tell that nothing I say will change your mind. What excuse do you intend to give Robaire?"

  "I'll think of something." She steeled herself not to let her misery show.

  "You can really just walk away without a backward glance?" he asked slowly.

  Why would he mind? The answer was simple— because he wanted a stable home for Robbie and no problems over his custody. "I have to pack," she said. "Will you have someone drive me to the Paris airport?"

  He gave her a startled look. "You're leaving today? You don't even know if you can get a seat on such short notice."

  "If I can't get a direct flight to San Francisco, I'll go through New York. There are always a lot of planes leaving for there." Nicole was anxious to end the conversation. She didn't know how long her composure would last.

  But Philippe delayed her maddeningly. "What about your career as a dress designer? My offer of help still stands."

  Her few sketches weren't nearly polished enough to take to a couturier. She could tell herself that she'd been too busy with Robbie, but the truth was that her life with Philippe had been so full there was no room for anything else.

  As she hesitated, looking for an answer that wouldn't reveal too much, the doorbell rang. A moment later, Paul ushered Madame Galantoire into the den.

  "Don't worry, I'm not staying," she told Philippe sarcastically. "I just stopped by to pick up my jewelry case. I was so upset by your boorish behavior that I left without it."

  "I'm sure you had more jewelry at home," he drawled. "You didn't need to make a special trip."

  "You don't have to make it so insultingly clear that I'm not welcome in this house," she said angrily.

  "That wasn't my intention. I merely meant you could have saved yourself the long drive."

  "I had to be in the neighborhood anyway. I'm meeting a group of friends for a tour of the winery and luncheon afterward. I'm leaving as soon as I get my case."

  "You might want to spare a moment to say goodbye to Nicole before you go. She's returning to San Francisco."

  Nicole had hoped he wouldn't tell his mother until after she'd left. But Philippe was determined to exact revenge.

  The delight Catherine didn't bother to hide was tempered almost immediately by concern. "You're not going to let her take Robaire?"

  "Couldn't you be gracious just for once? Nicole has generously offered to give up custody of the boy. She and her sister have shown a lot more understanding toward the Galantoires than they've ever received from us."

  "I don't like your tone, Philippe! None of this is my fault."

  "No, I have to share the guilt," he sighed.

  "It's pointless to assign blame or indulge in recriminations," Nicole said impatiently. "At least we all want what's best for Robbie. That's why I'm leaving him with you. Just don't let him forget me." Nicole turned away abruptly as tears clogged her throat. "I have to pack."

  The other two were silent for a moment after she left. Then Catherine began hesitantly, "Perhaps I could have been more—"

  Philippe cut her off. "It's too late, Mother." His eyes were bleak.

  Nicole had put off telling Robbie she was leaving, knowing it would be traumatic for both of them. But after her suitcases were packed and she'd checked all the dresser drawers twice to be sure she hadn't forgotten anything, the ordeal couldn't be postponed any longer.

  Philippe was still in the den where she'd left him. He was simply standing at the window, staring out at the grounds. Nicole gazed at his taut body, cherishing this last glimpse of him. In spite of everything, she couldn't stop loving him.

  When Philippe turned and saw her, she looked away hurriedly. "I'll be ready to leave after I say goodbye to Robbie. Will someone be available to drive me?"

  "I'll take you," he said.

  "No!" How could she bear to be cooped up in a car with him, close enough to touch, yet forever beyond her reach? "I mean, you must have things to do. If you can't spare anyone, I'll get there somehow."

  "Do you hate me that much, Nicole?" he asked quietly.

  "I didn't say that! It's a long ride and you probably have appointments scheduled," she said carefully, not wanting their final parting to be contentious. "Don't feel you have to see me off."

  "Why not be honest? You can't even stand to look at me."

  It was true in a way. How could she look at his handsome face and know she'd never feel his seductive mouth on hers again? Nicole could feel her resolve weakening. Wouldn't it be easier to pretend to believe his lies so she could share at least a part of his life?

  She drew a deep breath, resisting the self-destructive temptation. "I don't want to argue with you, Philippe. I'd like to leave on a civilized note."

  Before he could answer, the front doorbell rang in a series of urgent peals. Philippe frowned and strode into the hall to answer it before Paul could get there.

  A workman in coveralls stood on the doorstep. "There has been an accident, Monsieur Galantoire. You must come immediately. Your mother has been injured."

  "How? What happened?" Philippe exclaimed.

  "The cellar master was giving Madame and her friends a tour of the winery. She slipped on a patch of wet floor and gashed her neck badly. A metal bolt was protruding from one of the wine vats. There was much blood."

  "Where is she now?" Philippe asked tautly.

  "An ambulance was called. It took her to the hospital. You should go there quickly, monsieur. Madame is very frightened."

  "I'll go with you, Philippe." Nicole had followed him into the hall.

  He paused for an instant. "You don't have to feel obligated. I know you're in a hurry to leave."

  "What kind of person do you think I am?" she asked indignantly. "I wouldn't leave you at a time like this."

  Emotion choked his voice as he said, "I continue to underestimate you."

  They spoke very little on the short ride to the hospital. Philippe was tense, and Nicole couldn't reassure him that everything would be all right. Cath
erine's injury sounded grave. The best she could do was put her hand on his sleeve sympathetically. He squeezed her hand hard and gave her a grateful look. It wasn't the emotion she wanted, but at least they were friends again, briefly.

  Catherine was in the emergency room when they reached the hospital. The doctors and nurses surrounding her looked grave. The doctor in charge came over to them and explained the older woman's condition. She'd sustained various minor bruises, but the gash to an artery was the one they were concerned about.

  "But she'll recover, won't she?" Philippe was very pale.

  "The problem is that she's lost a lot of blood," the doctor answered indirectly. "Your mother needs an immediate blood transfusion. Unfortunately, her blood type, AB negative, is very rare. Only one percent of the population has that blood type."

  "Are you telling me there is none available?" Philippe demanded.

  "Not here. We can get some from Paris, but it will take time. I'm not happy about the delay."

  Nicole had hesitated to interrupt but now she said, "I'm type AB negative. I'll gladly donate blood."

  "That's splendid!" the doctor exclaimed. "Nurse! We've found our donor. Take care of this young woman."

  While everyone was bustling around getting the equipment ready, Philippe clasped Nicole's shoulders. "You would do this for a woman who has caused you nothing but misery?"

  "I would do it for any human being in need," she answered simply. "When it's a case of life or death, you don't dwell on your grievances."

  "Oh, darling!" Philippe folded her in his arms. "It's no wonder I love you so much."

  Could she really have heard correctly? Nicole wondered. He was too distracted to be playing games here in the hospital—which had to mean he was telling the truth!

  Nicole was in a kind of daze as she followed a nurse into another room.

  After she'd given blood, the woman brought her a glass of orange juice and advised her not to get up immediately as she might feel a trifle unsteady.

  Nicole felt more than a little disoriented, but it wasn't from giving blood. She had to talk to Philippe and find out if he meant what he said. A sudden thought chilled her. Maybe it had been just an extravagant expression of gratitude.