Читать книгу Latin Lovers: Seductive Frenchman: Chosen as the Frenchman's Bride / The Frenchman's Captive Wife / The French Doctor's Midwife Bride - Эбби Грин, Fiona Lowe - Страница 17

TWO weeks later Jane was trying to contain herself as she felt an increasing sense of panic threaten to overwhelm her. Lisa and her mother fussed around her as she got ready to go to the register office, their chatter skimming over her head:

‘… and poor Dominic is heartbroken, but he happened to mention that Xavier is gorgeous …’

‘Oh, he is, dear—wait till you see him …’

‘And he really owns a whole island?’

‘That’s nothing … his hotel chain …’

‘Still waters, eh, Mrs V? Who would have thought our little Janey had it in her? And to think of all those holidays spent with him under my nose—the time I wasted on those waiters …’

Jane cut in with wry exasperation. ‘You know, I am here, guys.’

‘Yes, dear, don’t mind us … now, let’s have a look at you.’

She was wearing a fitted cream silk jacket and a matching skirt that was cut on the bias and fell in soft swinging folds to her knees. The material clung to her curves, and the buttons on the jacket closed under her bust, with a lace camisole just visible in a slightly darker shade of off-white. An effective camouflage for her thickening middle.

Her mother hadn’t grilled her too much since her revelations and announcement. She assumed she and Xavier had had some sort of lovers’ tiff, and was blithely unaware of the circumstances—which Jane was quite happy with.

She contemplated the rest of the outfit—sheer tights, and high heels covered in the same material as the suit. It wasn’t bad for the last minute. Lisa had secured her hair with a flower, and stood back to regard her subject, resplendent herself in a vibrant hot pink dress that clashed magnificently with her red hair.

‘Janey, you look like a model … Honestly, what I wouldn’t give for your height and figure … When I get pregnant I’m going to be the proverbial whale from day one.’

Right now Jane would have given anything to switch places with Lisa. But of course she couldn’t. She had to do this, for the baby and to ensure her mother and Arthur’s future. And if she was honest she had to acknowledge the dark part of her that wanted to go through with this—wanted to tie herself to Xavier, whatever the cost.

When she saw him standing at the table in front of the registrar she faltered for a moment, her nerve failing her, but in that instant he turned and saw her. They hadn’t seen each other since that morning in her flat. It all fell away. Some intensity in his eyes held her. Didn’t allow her to break contact. She looked neither left nor right, just went towards him as if he was some kind of homing beacon in a fog. Then she was next to him. It was only the voice of the registrar that brought her back into room and their surroundings.

The words were meaningless. She hoped she made the appropriate response at the right time because she felt disembodied from everything. Before she knew it Xavier was taking a ring from his pocket and placing it on her finger, his hands cool and steady. Then, remarkably, Lisa was handing her a ring—where had that come from?

Jane put it on his finger, it slid on effortlessly. He didn’t let go of her hand until the end of the ceremony.

Once it was over they went outside. Xavier told her that he had arranged for a celebratory breakfast to be held at his London hotel. He led her to a waiting chauffeur-driven Bentley. She could see that there were more people than she had initially noticed, and that there were cars lined up for everyone. He had organised all this?

In the back of the car they were alone once he indicated to the driver to raise the partition. He brought a couple of glasses from a hidden compartment and poured them both some sparkling water. She couldn’t help but be aware of his huge frame encased in the dark grey morning suit. The material stretched over hard thighs only inches from hers.

‘A poor replacement for champagne, but necessary.’

Jane didn’t want him to guess how her insides were churning, the confused anger and frustration she felt at his matter-of-fact tone.

‘Let’s drink to us.’

‘A bit of a lie, don’t you, think? There’s no one around to fool.’

‘Let’s drink to a truce, then, because we’re sure as hell not going to last one week if you stay in that filthy mood. You’ve looked like you were going to your own funeral since you arrived.’

Hot tears threatened. She clinked his glass and took a sip, feeling like a fraud.

‘I’m sorry … it’s just a little overwhelming … Within weeks of seeing you again I’m married and about to emigrate …’

He surprised her by taking her hand in his and lifting it to his mouth. The heat of his lips pressed to her skin made her insides melt. Along with the look in his eyes.

‘Don’t think about it now … let’s just get through the next few days. It’s not exactly been easy for me either, you know.’

For a moment they shared an intense communication. There was something in his face … but then it was gone. A bland expression replaced whatever it was, and Jane couldn’t help but feel he was talking about being forced into a marriage he didn’t want. She reminded herself how single-minded he was. He hadn’t even made an attempt for them to talk about things, get to know one another again. He’d taken off as soon as he knew she’d comply with his demands, spent the last two weeks in New York, and come back only at the last minute. Arrogantly sure of her response.

The car drew to a smooth halt outside the hotel, and they were ushered out and into the melee.

Jane was introduced to so many people that they were soon blurring into one, and her cheeks ached from smiling. Her feet ached too, and for the first time since becoming pregnant she felt exhausted. She was ever conscious of Xavier, and where he was. Whenever she caught his eye he held it for long moments, until she began to get flustered and looked away.

She had just seen off her mother, Arthur and Lisa, whose own parents had come too. Jane had been delighted to see Lisa’s dad, looking so well after his scare. Her friend had promised to visit soon, and her mother was planning on coming when the baby was born.

Standing alone in the doorway of the function room, she felt awkward with all these unknown people. Some of them were friends of Xavier’s and seemed perfectly nice; others were business acquaintances.

Suddenly he materialised at her side, slipping an arm around her waist, and for once she sank gratefully into him, glad of the support.

‘Let’s get out of here,’ he murmured into her ear.

‘Yes, please.’ She couldn’t disguise the relief in her voice.

He brought her up to the penthouse suite. The staff had left out a bottle of champagne and there were rose petals all over the bed.

What a waste …

She turned to face Xavier as he closed and locked the door. He came towards her, pulling off his bow tie and opening his shirt. She could see his eyes darkening and saw the intention in them. It reached out and caressed her across the room, and she could feel every part of herself respond. It was too much. Her feelings were too raw. She backed away.

‘Xavier … please. I’m tired … I want to go to sleep.’

He kept coming. ‘So do I. With you.’

‘No!’ She hadn’t meant for her voice to come out so strident. ‘Just … I need a little space, and I am exhausted.’

She had been exhausted earlier, but now an excess of energy was causing her body to hum, making a lie of her words. Since seeing him again an ache had settled into every cell, an ache that she knew only he could assuage. He stopped in his tracks and she wanted to throw caution to the wind, throw herself at him with an animalistic instinct … rip off his clothes, have him take her right where they were. The strength of her reaction shook her.

‘I don’t know what you’re playing at, but I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt for now. I’ll go back downstairs for a while. You take the bed … I’ll sleep on the couch.’

‘Xavier, there’s no need—’

‘Save it, Jane. If you think we can share that bed tonight without anything happening then you’re lying to yourself.’

The door closed ominously quietly behind him.

Jane began to get ready for bed, feeling even more miserable. As if she had somehow cut off her nose to spite her face. Her body still hadn’t cooled down since that electrifying look.

She sped through her toilet in record time, and was soon under the sheets, breathing harshly and feeling very silly. After waiting as long as she could, she finally gave in to her exhaustion and slept, not hearing her bedroom door open or Xavier come in and spend long moments looking at her.

The next day on Xavier’s private jet, as they flew to Paris, she tried to control her conflicting emotions. She studied him covertly from under her lashes, and twisted the slim white-gold band on her finger as he looked through some paperwork in the seat across the aisle from her. He looked totally at ease, with not a care in the world. Unlike her. She looked out of her window and tried to force herself to relax.

What seemed like only moments later she felt someone shaking her gently. It was Xavier. His face was very close to hers. She could see the darker flecks of green in his eyes. It brought back a vivid image of his pupils dilating as his head descended to hers before he took her mouth with his. She hunched back in the seat to escape the potent memory.

He frowned at her movement. ‘What … what is it?’ she asked, her voice strained.

‘We’re here … in Paris.’

She looked out of the window. Sure enough they were on the Tarmac; she could see a waiting limo just at the bottom of the steps. None of the usual Customs or red tape for Xavier and his wife.

Once in the limo, it wasn’t long before they were in the thick of traffic in the city. Jane looked out with undisguised awe.

‘Have you never been here before?’ Xavier asked incredulously.

She shook her head. ‘Never had time … or the money. When I left school I worked straight away through college. I wanted to start paying Mum back for all the years that she’d worked her fingers to the bone.’

‘If I didn’t already know you I’d say that was a line …’

Jane looked at him, shaking her head. ‘So cynical … how can you bear it?’

‘Not everyone sees the world through rose-tinted glasses.’

‘Well, mine are rapidly turning more opaque.’

She could feel his sharp look of enquiry, but didn’t elaborate.

She picked out the Eiffel Tower, Notre Dame … and before long she could see that they were going over an ornate bridge on to what looked like an island in the middle of the river.

‘Wow …’ she breathed.

‘This is the Île St-Louis—one of a few islands on the Seine … it’s mainly residential.’

I’ll say, Jane thought to herself. Chic, immaculately made-up women walked their beautifully coiffed dogs. And she had thought that image of Paris was such a cliché!

They drew to a smooth halt outside one of the buildings and were effusively greeted by the doorman. Jane was fast becoming accustomed again to the bowing and scraping people did in Xavier’s vicinity. In the lift she wasn’t surprised to see that they went all the way to the top floor. Nothing but the best.

The doors opened straight into a hall with one door, which Xavier opened.

‘This is where I come and stay when in Paris on business or for stopovers on long haul journeys—have a look around.’

Jane tore her eyes away from his and did as he asked. It was the quintessential bachelor pad. The age of the building meant that the shell and windows were still of a certain period, but the whole of the inside had been remodelled. The colours were dark, and it was full of sharp corners, with abstract art on the walls, state-of-the-art sound and TV systems. The kitchen was worse, all gleaming steel and not a hint of homeliness in sight. She hated it.

He stood back, arms folded, and watched her face with amusement. She couldn’t hide a thing. He felt a sharp, uncustomary burst of pleasure, remembering her refreshing honesty, and became aware of just how much he had missed it …

‘You hate it, don’t you?’

‘I’m sorry …’ She blushed. ‘It’s just so cold and characterless.’

And he became aware of how he’d missed her blushes.

‘I suppose I’d be offended if I’d actually had a hand in the decoration, but thankfully for my ego I didn’t. I allowed a friend who was trying to build up his interior design portfolio the run of the place. I’m here so infrequently that it doesn’t really bother me.’

He thought of the women that he had brought here. He couldn’t remember one who hadn’t oohed and ahed delightedly over every room. Either they had all loved it or, more realistically, said what they thought he wanted to hear. Now he could see it through Jane’s eyes he hated it too, and vowed to rip it all out and do it up again.

Her heart hammered when he suddenly took her hand. He led her to a bedroom, where he faced her again.

‘What … what are you doing?’ she asked desperately, hating the effect just holding his hand was having on her, but determined not to pull away and reveal the extent of her discomfiture.

He indicated with his head round the room, starkly decorated in creams and browns. ‘This is your room.’

The relief on her face was comic. ‘Thank … thank you.’

He rested heavy hands on her shoulders. ‘Your hands-off signals are loud and clear. Rest assured, Jane, I’ve never forced myself on a woman and I’m not about to now … but you know you’re fighting a losing battle, don’t you? This scared virginal act is wasted on me. We both know you’re no virgin.’

He brought his face down to hers, his mouth close to her ear, and she closed her eyes weakly. His breath tickled the sensitive part of her neck just below her ear. The fine hairs standing up.

‘But if you think for a second that you can hold out for ever … then you’re very, very mistaken. It’s only going to be a matter of time. It’s there, vibrating between us like an electric current, and it’s not going to go away. Do you know what happens when you suppress something? It just gets stronger and stronger.’

He straightened up, his eyes taking in her flushed face, the bead of sweat on her brow, the pulse hammering against the base of her neck, and he had to use every ounce of his will-power not to pull her into him, mould her body to his and make her acquiesce—which he knew he could do.

He would wait until she was shaking with longing, weak with desire. Until she could barely look at him because of it. He wanted her. Badly. But that was all it was. Sheer, unadulterated lust. Nothing else. This was why he’d been unable to get her out of his head the past few months.

‘Settle in, and I’ll get lunch ready.’

He walked out of the room. Jane pressed her hands up against flaming cheeks. That was her reaction after mere words! What would she do if he kissed her? Or if she lost control and grabbed him? Which seemed more likely right at that moment. She’d go up like tumbleweed to a lit match on a dry day.

All the more reason to be strong.

And what then …?

One day at a time. That was the only way she was going to handle this.