by Tracy Reed
“Why?”
I dropped my head and then looked up. “I like you, a lot. And I’m scared you’re going to discover you can’t live without the things I’m not giving you.”
He brushed the side of my face, and I felt tears welling up in my eyes. He cupped my face in his hands and pressed his lips against mine. The kiss was gentle, sweet…filled with compassion.
“If I didn’t respect your honesty and decision not to have sex, we wouldn’t be here.”
“It’s only been…”
He kissed me again. “I know how long it’s been.” He smiled. “Granted, I think sex with you would be incredible.” I smiled. “However, I agree. I think making love would be so much better.”
“But what if…”
“We aren’t going to talk about what ifs. We’re only going to talk about what is.”
“What is?” I teased.
“Oui. Like how is it possible for such a virtuous woman to kiss so passionately?” My face felt hot. “I’m serious. I want to know. Because I have never kissed a woman that kisses like you do. The way you seduce me with your mouth is overwhelming.”
“Very funny.”
“You don’t see it, do you?”
“What?”
“You my sweet, possess a sex appeal and passion so intense, it is indescribable.”
I started to get up and he pulled me back down and cupped my face in his hands. “You’re right. I think it’s best that you don’t make love until you are married.”
“You do?”
He looked at me smiling. “Oui. Because I heard the way a woman kisses is the way she makes love.” He smiled and raised an eyebrow.
* * *
phillippe
* * *
After my conversation with Gabriella today, my thoughts were confirmed. She has no clue as to how she effects me. More specifically, she hasn’t got a clue as to how sexy she is, or the amount of passion she possesses.
It was excruciating, yet very pleasurable, having her nestled between my thighs. It took every ounce of self control I had to keep myself in check. Then she started squirming and shifting against me until she found a spot she liked. Thank God, she couldn’t see the agony on my face.
It wouldn’t be so bad if she was aware of what she was doing and playing a game, but she is genuinely naïve to her body language. I tried not to touch her, but I couldn’t resist slipping my hands around her waist and kissing her neck. The soft giggle she makes when I nuzzle her neck makes me laugh.
I understand her reasons and desire for saving herself, and I think it’s sweet. It made me think back to my first time with a woman. To be honest, I don’t remember much about it. Of course I won’t forget it, but I don’t have any impactful memories. Maybe that’s what Gabriella was talking about.
Her theories on making love verses just sex made me think. I want that. I want to know that kind of love. Part of me envies her, in that when she does make love, it will be impactful…probably very romantic. Now I sound like a school girl.
I read an article about a man who said that his love for God allowed him to make love to his wife on an intense and highly erotic level he had never experienced before. Maybe that’s why Gabriella kisses so intensely and is so full of passion. Whatever it is, I want it. I want that kind of passion in my life.
Chapter Twenty
gabriella
* * *
“Bonjour Monsieur Tony.” I got up and double air kissed him.
“Bonjour, Mademoiselle Gabby.” He sat down in one of the chairs in front of my desk. “How was your trip?”
“Très magnifique.” The smile on my face more than answered his question.
“You look very French.”
“Merci.”
“Did you and Phillippe get any work done?” He teased.
“Oui.” He shook his head smiling. “I’ll have the reports finished this afternoon. How is everything in Seattle?”
“We’re moving everything this weekend. I’m only here for the day. I go back in the morning.”
“I’ll get to work clearing Phillippe’s schedule for the rest of the afternoon and the weekend.”
“Thank you…merci.”
“Avec plaisir.”
“You look different.”
“I do?”
“Oui.”
“Marie is teaching me how to be a proper French woman.”
“So you met Marie?”
“Oui. I like her.”
“Elle est très douce et maternelle.”
“Bear with me, I’m still learning… what did you say?”
“She’s very sweet and motherly.”
“Exactly.”
“Did you go to the Louvre?”
“Oui. And the Moulin Rouge, the Eiffel Tower, Notre Dame. We took that dinner cruise on the Seine and wine tasting in Bordeaux.”
“Wow! Did you go shopping?”
“Yes, and the food! I ate so much. I can’t wait to go back!”
“Go back?’
“Oui. Phillippe wants to meet with the design team once the lease is signed.”
“Was the apartment comfortable?”
“Yes, it was amazing waking up every morning with the Paris sunlight warming my face.”
“Really. So you…”
The door opened and Phillippe walked in. Phillippe walked over and hugged his best friend. “Hey man, what’s up?”
“Mademoiselle Townsend was filling me in on your trip.”
He looked at me and smiled. “She was?” Phillippe rubbed my shoulder. “Would you order lunch and…”
“Clear your day…already working on it. And lunch is in your office.”
“Thank you.” He leaned down to kiss me and I leaned back. “I’m sorry, I forgot.”
“What’s going on?” Tony asked.
“During business hours, it’s hands off.”
He laughed. “Since when, because…”
“I told Phillippe, when we’re in the office, we have to remain professional.” Tony laughed. “Don’t laugh. I’m serious.”
“Come on, fill me in.” Tony walked into Phillippe’s office. “Have a seat. I’ll be right there.” He came back to me. “Gabriella…”
I looked up. “Yes?”
He crushed his lips against mine and I fell back in my chair as he kissed me. He pulled back and winked at me.
* * *
phillippe
* * *
I walked into my office, closed the door, and joined Tony at the conference table.
“What was that all about?”
“What?”
“The kiss.”
I sat down. “We agreed to keep things professional in the office.”
“Uh-huh…I don’t think that kiss was exactly professional.”
I smiled and rubbed my finger across my bottom lip. “No, it wasn’t.”
“I’m not going to even ask how your trip was.”
“What does that mean?”
“It’s written all over your face. Not to mention the way Gabby is glowing. Did something happen?”
“If you’re asking did we make love, the answer is no. Not that it’s any of your business.”
He leaned back in his chair tapping his pen on the desk. “Something happened.”
“Will you give it a rest? We had a good time, did a little sightseeing, some shopping, worked and came home.”
“Uh-huh…and she stayed in your apartment.”
“Who told you that?”
“She did when she mentioned the view.” He raised one eyebrow. “I’m very familiar with your place in Paris. I know firsthand that the bedroom in the guest apartment doesn’t get any morning sun. That’s why I like staying in it.”
“Yes, Gabriella stayed in the guest room in my apartment.”
“If I’m not mistaken, she’s the first woman to do so.”
“Is there something you want to ask me?”
He was silent. “Was the trip a success?”<
br />
“Yes, I found some spaces that could work. I’m still waiting on Gabriella’s report before…”
“You know that’s not what I mean.”
I looked at my best friend wondering how much to reveal. Gabriella and I had every intention of keeping our personal relationship private. However, that’s a little difficult seeing we work together. Couple that with the fact that my best friend can read me like a book. I had no choice but to answer him.
I filled two glasses with sparkling water and put one in front of Tony. I took a sip and thought carefully about what I was going to say.
“Uhm…it started off a little tense. I really wasn’t sure if she was still on board with us.”
“I thought you guys were doing this thing?”
“You know how crazy things were before I left. I barely spoke with her and the few times I did, all she wanted to talk about was work and I wanted to talk to her like…”
“Her man.”
“Exactly.” I sipped my water, wishing it was something stronger, but it was too early in the day. “The days leading up to our trip, she kept brushing me off.”
He sipped his water. “Then what happened, because she’s all smiles and speaking French.”
“We talked. More like she went off on me when I offered to take her shopping.”
“What?”
“I should have known better after the suit incident.”
“Back up. What suit incident?”
“When I stopped at Brockman’s, Cameron gave me a message for her about a suit she wanted. It was on sale, and I got it so she wouldn’t miss out on it.”
“She chewed you out for buying her a suit?”
“Yes. She has this thing about accepting gifts from me.”
“I don’t understand.”
“She said she doesn’t want things from me.”
“So, you bought her a suit?”
“Yes.” He still looked confused. “I knew she wanted it. So I got it.”
“You know what? I’m just going to pretend I understand what you’re saying so we can get to work.”
“I thought I was being a good boyfriend by buying her something she wanted.”
“Uhhuh.”
“Strange girl. You know, she offered to pay me back over time. She said we needed to work out a payment plan.” He started laughing.
“Are you kidding?” He laughed.
“No, she was serious. I told her to look at it as a bonus.”
“Did that work?”
“Yes. But when I told her I wanted to take her shopping at Chanel, she freaked out and said she wasn’t a whore or a cliché.”
“What?”
“It all has something to do with her mother and why she doesn’t want me to meet her parents yet.”
“You lost me.”
“Her mother doesn’t like me. Can you believe it? I haven’t even met the woman, and I’m at the top of her hit list.” I sipped my water.
“Are you serious?”
“Not to brag, but I’m a great guy.”
“You’re kidding me, right?”
“Am I missing something?”
“You my brother, are most women’s fantasy, every mother’s dream, and every father’s nightmare.”
“Excuse me?”
“Just look at you. If I didn’t know you, I wouldn’t let you near my daughter.”
“Are you serious?”
“When a parent sees you coming to pick up their daughter, they want to close the door and put their baby girl under lock and key.”
“And what about you?”
“Me? Parents just think I’m a well-dressed thug…the proverbial Bad Boy. Trust me, they aren’t too excited to see me either, but I do get invited inside.”
“So, it’s my fault I haven’t met her parents?”
“No. It’s theirs. Once she figures out the best time to introduce you, she’ll invite you for dinner. Until then, keep doing what you’re doing, following her lead.”
“Hello, Mother.” She turned around, and her smile reminded me of the days when I was a little boy coming home from school, excited to share my day with her. She hasn’t aged a bit. In my mind, she will always be that beautiful, young mother always dressed for a fancy lunch. Part of me wishes she would find a nice man to date, but the protective son cannot stand the thought of any man other than my father kissing her.
“Phillippe.” I walked over, wrapped my arms around her waiting on her gentle kiss on the cheek. “When did you get back?”
“Day before yesterday.”
“And why am I just now seeing you?”
“Work?” I posed it as a question hoping she would accept my excuse.
“I think not.” She returned to clipping her beloved yellow roses. “I think it has more to do with the young lady you took with you.” She looked at me with a raised eyebrow.
“Aunt Hilarie.”
“Oui. She said I must be delighted to see you have finally found a suitable companion.” She looked at me with a slight smirk. “Imagine my surprise when I couldn’t really comment seeing that I have yet to meet the young woman.”
“It was purely coincidental that Aunt Hilarie met Gabriella.”
“Is that her name?”
“Oui.”
“Hilarie says she’s very pretty. What does she do?”
“She’s part of my team.”
She stopped clipping, and turned to face me. “Am I correct in understanding that you are dating your employee?”
“Not exactly.”
“Then what exactly?” I turned away. “Phillippe, look at me.” I looked at her and suddenly felt like a five year old boy being chastised for not eating his vegetables.
“It’s not what you think.”
“How do you know what I am thinking.” She put her gloves and shears in the basket along with her roses. I linked her arm through mine and we started walking. “Son, I know your grandfather is putting a lot of pressure on you and…”
“I’m not…”
“Listen to me. I love your grandfather. But he can be a little overbearing, especially when it comes to you.”
“I know.”
“I appreciate your stepping in at Morgan Grant. However, I don’t want you to feel obligated to also take on a wife because he said you should.”
I stopped walking. “Where is this coming from?”
“I know he told you he wouldn’t make you CEO unless you had a wife.”
“I’m not with Gabriella because of grandfather’s request.”
“You aren’t?”
“No.”
“Then why the rush?”
“I’m not rushing.”
She looked at me and then gently stroked the side of my face. “I’m sorry. I just thought…”
“My relationship with Gabriella has nothing to do with grandfather’s request. In fact, she doesn’t know about grandfather, or the details of my involvement with the company.”
“What did you tell her?”
“I told her the chairman and I met at a party which led to his offering me the position.”
“So she thinks…”
“I’m just a guy who inherited a little money from his father.”
“And how long do you think that story will hold up?”
“I hope long enough to see where this relationship is going.” She nodded and threaded her arm around mine, and we continued walking.
“Tell me about her.”
I felt like a nervous teenager talking about his crush. “She’s nothing like Chantal.”
“I already like her.”
“Mother…”
“I’m sorry, but I did not like that brat.”
“Seems no one liked her.”
“No one?”
“Oui, Marie, Tony, Aunt Hilarie…even Gil and Marcos. Oh, and Cameron.”
“That should tell you a lot.” I looked at her. “I’m sorry. Continue.”
“Gabriella is…I can’t quite exp
lain it. All I know is I feel calm and peaceful whenever I’m around her. She excites me in a way no other woman ever has.”
“Marie said she stayed in your apartment.”
“Oui”
“And that you are not sleeping with her, yet you bought her a new lingerie wardrobe at Madame Beatrice’s and took her shopping at Chanel.”
“Oui.”
“So what are your intentions?”
“My intentions?”
“Qu’est-ce que tu préviens?”
“I’m not sure. Right now, my plan is to follow her lead.”
“Excuse-moi? Did my son say that?”
I smiled. My mother has a tendency to shift between English and French when she’s excited and shocked.
“I can’t believe it either.”
We stepped up onto the patio and I waited for her to sit down. She poured each of us a glass of wine. She took a sip and looked at me. “I hope I get the opportunity to meet Mademoiselle Gabriella.”
“In time.” I sipped my wine and noticed an old cardboard box on the chair next to me. “What’s that?”
“Ah, Charlotte was cleaning out a closet and said this belonged to you.”
“I don’t recall leaving a box in a closet.”
“Open it.” I stood up and opened the box. Sorting through the contents nothing looked familiar until I got to a photo. “Is this father?” I handed her the framed photo.
“Yes. Where did you…”
“When was that taken?”
“I took this photo on my first trip to Paris.”
“Are you kidding?” I smiled.
“I remember the day I took that photo. I was sitting at a cafe and spotted this beautiful man and felt compelled to take his picture. I remember he came up to me right after I snapped it. He said, ‘I hope you got my good side.’ I remember his accent was incredibly sexy. I looked at him, and trying to be coy, replied, ‘All you have are good sides.’”
“Mother, I can’t believe you were that forward.”
She took the photo and brushed her finger across the glass. “He was a very handsome man.” A sad smile covered her face then she looked at me. “You look so much like him.”
I looked deeper into the box and pulled out a black leather book. “What’s this?” I took it out, opened it up and handed it to her.