Chapter Thirteen
Monday morning and Louis had not shown up for work. No one knew where he was and though Marian didn’t want to admit it, she was beginning to worry. And that made her angry with herself for worrying about him.
How could she forget that he wanted to marry her just to gain control of Cuvier Shipping?
The clock in her office struck twelve and she glanced again across the hall at the empty office. Never known for his promptness, Louis had never blatantly not shown up for work. Could he be hidden away plotting his next attempt at taking over the business? Or could he be hurt, lying in a ditch somewhere?
Oh, where was he! She couldn’t help but worry.
Outside in the hallway, a creaking noise drew her attention and she cocked her head to listen. There it was again, that same squeaky noise getting closer.
Marian stood and walked around her desk, going to the door. Tentatively, she poked her head out and glanced down the hall. The sight shocked her and made her want to laugh, yet a sense of relief filled her. With a grin on his face, Louis strolled down the hall, pulling a little wagon filled with packages.
“Hello,” he called cheerfully, making her want to wring his neck for causing her to worry needlessly.
She frowned, not ready to let him forget she was still angry and suspicious of him. She moved to go back into her office.
“Marian, wait,” he called. “I brought us lunch.”
She stuck her head back out the door, wondering where he’d been all morning, still not ready to put their conversation from her mind. “Whatever for?”
A cocky grin appeared on his face as he shrugged his shoulders. “I hoped you would give me a second chance. I knew you would refuse an invitation to lunch, so I brought the party to you.”
Not ready to be alone with him, she shook her head. “You’re wasting your time. I’m not having lunch with you. I have plans.”
He glanced at her sheepishly. “If you’re referring to your lunch with Drew, he had to cancel.”
Her eyes widened. “What? You cancelled my lunch?”
“No. Something came up with Layla. Don’t be mad at him. Layla’s life is on the line,” he said, a serious look on his face. Then he smiled and she felt the ice around her heart begin to melt. “In an effort to reconcile with you, I promise I’ve brought a very special lunch.”
She raised her brows. “What, you’re going to propose yet again?” she asked. “Have you forgotten I’m angry at you?”
He stared at her, his gaze unwavering. “If I thought your answer would be yes, then I would propose. But that last time, you pretty much crushed my pride and I’m not ready for a second go just yet”
She tossed him a dubious stare. “Your pride could survive being flattened by a train, so don’t try to make me feel bad.”
“Perhaps, but I hoped we could at least return to the way things were between us.”
“That’s doubtful.”
“Well, I’m at least willing to give it a try.” He grinned at her. “So will you have lunch with me?”
“You think you can just come in here and say a few charming words, bring me lunch, and everything will be all right?” She took a deep breath, though her fury seemed to be dying. “Well, you’re wrong. I’m still mad that you thought you could try to marry me to gain control of the business. Do you think I’m stupid?”
“I have never considered you less than intelligent,” he said standing in the hallway holding the wagon handle, not denying her accusations, which intrigued her. “Forget the proposal, forget about the business. Just have lunch with me.”
“So you admit you were trying to marry me to gain control of the business?” she asked.
“I’m admitting nothing. I just want to have lunch with you and forget this damn business for a while.”
The smell of hot fresh bread wafted through her office, tempting Marian. Her stomach growled, the sound loud in the silent room.
“You’ve got to eat,” he insisted.
“I am hungry,” she admitted. She looked at him to see his reaction. He smiled and she felt a moment of intense longing, followed by anguish. She wanted him even more today than before their night together. His smile was so disarming she needed to remember that what lurked behind those curled lips was a great deal of fun, not to mention emotional danger.
He waited, not saying anything, his face an innocent mask, his eyes giving her that promising gaze again that seemed to make her body come alive. Their liaison had been for one night only, she reminded herself. Not a lifetime, not even two or three nights. One night only and now that was over.
“I...” she hesitated. “All right. But it has to be quick. I have a lot of work to accomplish today. And I’m still upset with you.”
He nodded, his eyes warm and understanding. “You can be mad at me as long as you eventually get over it.”
Marian raised her brow. “That could take until the Mississippi runs dry.”
“Yes, it could,” he acknowledged, and pulled the little wagon into her office and shut the door behind him. “But I hope not.”
She felt a moment of unease at the sight of that closed door, with just the two of them all alone together. She ignored him, determined not to let her guard down in his presence again.
When she glanced up, she gave him her best hostile look. “Why the closed door?”
“We need privacy for lunch,” he said, with a shrug. “We could be discussing serious business issues or I might try to steal a kiss.”
“And come back with a broken arm.”
He laughed. “I’ll keep that thought in mind.”
“You do that,” she said.
“Where do you want me to set up our picnic?” he questioned.
“Picnic?”
“Yes, we’re having a picnic without the bugs.”
“What did you bring?” she asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.
“I brought a feast.” He smiled at her and then turned to the wagon and pulled out a blanket, which he spread on the floor in her office. Next, he took out a large picnic hamper. He lifted the lid and pulled out napkins, silverware, dishes, and champagne glasses.
“Champagne?”
“Yes, champagne,” he said.
“But we’re working,” she protested. “Alcohol is not going to take away my anger.”
“We’re having a picnic,” he reminded her.
“Which is in an office,” she replied.
He took a deep breath. “No, we’re no longer in this office. We’re out under a shade tree somewhere along the river, just the two of us. There’s a warm breeze blowing and the heat makes us feel lazy. You put your head in my lap and we lay there talking all afternoon. Sometimes kissing, sometimes just holding one another.”
She rolled her eyes. “Yes, we’re under a shade tree somewhere along the river all right, but you’re on one side of the blanket and I’m on the other. I’m still furious with you and you’re asking for my forgiveness. I tell you, not until the sun rises in the west.”
“I think I like my scenario better.”
“You would.”
He reached into another box that lay in the bottom of the wagon, covered until just this moment. He pulled the ribbon on the box, yanked off the lid and the smell of carnations permeated the air.
Stepping within inches of her, he handed her the flowers. “While we’re gazing out at the river, I surprise you with flowers, hoping they will ease your disappointment in me and show you my intentions are sincere.”
She glanced briefly at the bunch of flowers, struck by their beauty. He was definitely making it harder for her to stay angry with him. She gazed at the spread laid out on the floor before her. He’d gone to so much work just to make her happy. Never before had any man done so much for her and she could feel the ice slowly melting from around her heart. No wonder the man had women flocking around him.
This was his ploy. He was a master at seduction. He was a talented lover, a shrewd bus
inessman. But what if she had been wrong about him? What if he’d been serious that morning when he’d asked her to marry him? After all, most women would have wanted a marriage proposal. They would have gladly said yes.
No, she couldn’t have made that big a mistake. Louis wanted the business. She had to be on guard at all times. “Thank you, they’re lovely, though...”
“Don’t say it I know, you’re still mad at me.”
She smiled and laughed. “No, I have no vase to put them in.”
Louis perked up. “Oh. Well, we’ll find something.” He jumped up and found the water pitcher to put the flowers in, then hurriedly finished setting everything up. When the food was all set out the champagne on ice, pillows for her to sit on, and the dishes all arranged, he took her by the hand and helped her to the oasis he had created.
“My, this is really nice,” she said, and glanced up at him with suspicion. What was he up to besides trying to convince her to marry him?
Definitely, he knew the way to make a woman feel cherished. “Thank you.”
He poured her a glass of champagne and handed the flute to her. He tore off a piece of fresh bread and put it between her lips, feeding the soft warm bread to her. It all but melted in her mouth, so fresh and moist that she almost moaned.
Next he fed her some fruit, followed by cheese. She sat there and let him feed her bites of food as she gazed deeply into his eyes. There was something about being fed by another person who cared about you, that left you feeling special. And Marian at this moment felt very treasured.
Finally they ate the sandwiches he’d included in the basket.
“This is really good. Where did you get all this food?”
Louis shrugged. “I ran all over town this morning, finding it. I’ve also arranged for us to take the children for a boat ride on Saturday.”
She turned and stared at him, doubts causing her suspicions to raise their ugly heads again. “Why?”
“Because your son told me the day I bought him the Italian ice that he wanted to go and it’s also part of your training, my dear. Captain Paul is available and I thought it would be a good time to go.” He frowned. “If you’d like to think of this as a business trip that would be fine.”
She stared at him, not knowing how to respond, but feeling more confused than ever. She recalled Philip’s request to ride in one of his father’s boats and her heart warmed at Louis’s thoughtfulness toward her son.
He is a shrewd businessman. A master at seduction. The words echoed through her head.
“Why are you doing this? Why not just let us remain as partners?”
“What do you mean?”
“Why are you still trying to seduce me?”
His mouth was so close and she tried not to stare at his full lips, so moist, so tempting, and so delightful before her.
“Seduction is not the word I would use. I want to marry you and I intend to show you just how serious I am.”
His lips covered hers and though she’d threatened to break his arm, she could not resist the touch of him any more than she could deny her thirst. How could one man be so tempting and maddening, all at the same time? His kiss felt wonderful, his lips full and luscious. And the lunch he’d gone to so much trouble over was a treat. No one else in her life had ever arranged something like this.
Louis was a shrewd businessman. A master at manipulation, the voice inside her head taunted. A skillful lover who could make her melt, who could make her forget that she’d ever been angry.
She broke off the kiss and gazed at him, her stomach all fluttery. The velvety softness of his eyes made her want to throw herself into his arms and forget about the business and all the suspicions that clouded her thinking. But she couldn’t.
“This doesn’t mean that I’m no longer mad at you,” she finally said, her breath coming in short little gasps.
“As long as you kiss me like that when you’re mad at me, then everything will be all right.”
She frowned. “I’m serious, Louis. I’m not going to marry you for any reason, so you can quite trying so hard to convince me that you want me.”
“Well, I had thought of us just living together, but I don’t think that would set a good example for the children. And I don’t particularly want my children to be referred to as bastards.” He paused for a moment “You aren’t against having more children are you?”
“No,” she said without thinking and then shook her head. “What are you talking about?”
“Good, because though I promise always to treat your children as my own, I still would like to have a few more.”
“Oh,” she said staring at him as his words sank in surprising her. “Damn it, Louis!” she said jumping to her feet. “I’m not going to marry you, now or in the future. So quit this farce of trying to convince me you’re serious.”
This man was trying to trick her into believing that he wanted to marry her. She pushed him away and rose to her feet. “It’s after one, lunch is over and so is the picnic.”
He reclined on the blanket, his head resting on one elbow, one knee propped up, watching her as she flitted around the room loading the picnic things into the wagon.
“Did I say something wrong?” he asked.
“No,” she said putting their plates into the picnic basket. “You’ve said everything just right. Every calculated word has been said at just the correct moment and I almost fell for it a second time.”
“What do you mean a second time? I haven’t proposed yet.”
She looked up from putting away the dishes and glared at him. “And you’re not going to either.”
“No, I wasn’t, not today.”
“Good.” She closed the picnic hamper put it in the wagon, picked up the pillows and would have folded the blanket if she could have gotten Louis to move. But he just sat there watching her.
“I guess you’d like me to leave now.”
“Yes, that would be nice.” She stood gazing down at him, feeling so nervous. She’d almost succumbed to him a second time. Was she crazy? “Thank you for the lovely lunch. The flowers are beautiful and I enjoyed the picnic.”
Louis gave her a lazy smile and she knew he recognized her nervousness. “You’re welcome. But we didn’t get to spend any time with your head in my lap, talking about our future.”
“Our future should be discussed not under a tree, but in the office with our banker and our ships’ captains.” Louis rolled to his knees and then to his feet. She watched as he dusted off his fine trousers and then glanced at her.
“Thanks for having lunch with me. If you’re free for dinner...?”
“No!” she said with an emphatic shout and then lowered her voice. “I promised the children we’d play games tonight.”
“All right I’ll be right across the hall.”
“If I need you, I’m sure I can find you.”
“You want me. It’s only a matter of time.” He smiled and walked out, pulling the little wagon behind him. Though she fought the impulse, the sight tickled her, to see a big strong man pulling a child’s toy.
Marian sank down into her chair and picked up her pencil. She tried to concentrate on the journal spread before her. Her hands began to shake badly.
God, yes, she wanted him. His touch was more potent than the strongest liquor, more intoxicating than the finest wine and somehow she had to resist the temptation he presented.
Wronged (Book 1) Page 37