by Risk, Mona
“Chérie.” He lowered his head and molded his mouth to hers.
She closed her eyes and laced her fingers behind his nape. Feeling, tasting, enjoying.
His tongue slipped between her parted lips and met hers in a wild dance. She pressed herself against him, not wanting to let him go. She was on top of the world in Yves’s arms. Warm and secure, and kissing him.
He released her mouth and rained kisses on her forehead, cheeks and throat. “Yves, the Eiffel Tower is more beautiful than I ever imagined.”
The breeze fluttered her hair over her face. He smoothed it back with a gentle caress. “Tonight, I, too, find it unique.” He captured her mouth and lavished her with kisses, and she responded with all her pent-up passion, her heart beating against his in the same rhythm.
She pulled back and snatched a breath, her whole body still clutched with want. Far below, the city sparkled like a black velvet cape sprinkled with millions of diamonds.
Yves waved his hand. “Paris by night.”
She turned around, her gaze encompassing the unending view. “Wait. One more picture with the flash.”
He asked a guard to shoot the picture. “This one is for me.”
Mary-Beth nestled in his arms and smiled. “I’ll keep a copy.”
He thanked the man and took back her camera. “Let’s go down. We still have more things to do.”
She didn’t ask where they were going. As long as she was with him, she was in paradise. When they reached the ground, Yves led her to the riverbank of the Seine and escorted her to a boat docked against the bank. “How about a dinner cruise? The bateau-mouche will take us down the Seine and back while we dine.” He helped her over the gangplank and into the boat.
“A table for two, please.”
They sat at a table against the window. Yves ordered the wine. “Would you choose the menu for me?” he asked with a smile. “I trust your selection will be healthier and more delicious than mine.”
She chuckled and obliged.
“A ta santé, chérie.” He raised his glass.
Darling? She flinched, afraid to ask risky questions. Afraid to see the evening end. She didn’t want to go back to the chateau, the hospital, and her dull reality. Tonight was out of this world with her special friend. Too special. She shivered as the inner thought opened a whole world of implications she couldn’t afford to consider.
“Are you cold?” Yves covered her hand with his.
“No, I’m fine. Did you notice it’s raining?” She glanced at the window where heavy drops pelted against the glass.
“Don’t worry. It will soon stop. Enjoy your dinner.” The waiter brought their plates and they chatted while eating.
“It’s already eleven o’clock. Will we spend the night in Paris? I mean isn’t it too late to drive back?”
He gave her a strange look.
She bit her tongue and blessed the dimness of the restaurant that hid her blush. “I mean I know you have an apartment…huh...I didn’t mean…damn it. I’m making a mess of what I want to say. I’m just worried about you driving at night during a storm.”
He squeezed her hand and brought it to his lips. “Thank you, chérie. I can drive without problem. And I won’t take you to my apartment.” He let go of her hand and cupped her cheek. “You’ve heard enough gossip about it, although I haven’t been there in a long time.”
“I didn’t mean—”
“I know you didn’t.” He leaned across the table and kissed her lightly on her lips. “I can’t afford to lose your friendship. The temptation would be too strong there.”
I want the temptation. She lowered her head so he wouldn’t read the depth of desire in her eyes. Couldn’t their friendship survive one night in his arms? Just one time before she went back to Boston. She swallowed her wine in a big gulp.
Frustration gnawed at her belly. She was afraid to acknowledge the strong but subtle feeling insidiously invading her heart.
“Why the frown?”
“Nothing.” She kept her voice cheerful and warm in direct contrast to the fearful roiling in her stomach. “I had a great day.” She immediately smiled, asked for another glass of wine to smother her insecurities.
His fingers caressed her cheek. “We both had an incredible time.”
Incredible was the word. She would never forget her first visit to Paris. What more could she ask for?
God, she was afraid to answer her own question. She wanted so much more now.
The boat docked against the bank. Yves led her to the exit, a warm hand pressed on her back. As they reach the deck, a blast of wind and rain hit them in the face. “It’s pouring. We don’t even have raincoats.”
“Don’t worry. We’ll take a taxi to the garage.”
The restaurant’s receptionist opened an umbrella and walked them out of the boat to the sidewalk where a line of taxis waited. After they settled in the backseat, Yves gave the address of the garage where he’d parked his car.
As they sat in the Ferrari, thunder exploded. Mary-Beth jumped. “Oh God, it’s getting nastier by the minute.”
Yves wrapped a reassuring arm around her shoulder. They buckled up, and he started the engine, but she grabbed his arm. “You can’t drive to the chateau in this weather. Seriously, it’s not safe.”
He arched an eyebrow. “The alternative is to stay at my apartment tonight. It’s only a ten-minute drive from here.”
“Well, let’s go. It would be crazy to hit the roads now.”
“You don’t mind?” He tapped the steering wheel as he considered her anxious frown.
“Why take a risk when we don’t have to? We’re not on call.”
“True. The apartment has two bedrooms anyway.”
As they left the garage, he turned the windshield wipers on at full speed and concentrated on his driving. Mary-Beth suppressed a smile. A moment ago, her overactive senses wanted temptation. It was coming at her head-on. She almost giggled.
A thought hit her. She sobered and tortured her bottom lip. She had initiated their two kisses. Not Yves. By now she knew him well enough to understand he enjoyed the challenge of conquest but never took advantage of a woman. Yet other than the three kisses of greeting he distributed indiscriminately, he didn’t seem to see her as a challenge or a conquest. More like an agreeable pastime because no one else was around. Her heart sank and she slouched in her seat.
During the past month, she’d matured and learned that life should be lived to the full. Not evaded. With only a few weeks left on her training in France, she wanted more keepsakes than a bunch of pictures. She wanted wonderfully hot memories only Yves could provide.
His eyes on the road, he drove carefully while the rain pelted against the window. He would have driven all the way to Marancourt so she didn’t have to stay at his love-nest.
“You’re awfully quiet.” He glanced at her as they arrived in front of a five-story building and entered the garage.
“I was just…thinking.” Her heart twisted with mingled distress and expectation.
“And worrying probably.” He squeezed her hand and gave her a kind reassuring smile. “Well, don’t worry. We’ll wait until the rain stops, then drive back to the chateau.”
“Sure.”
He’d shove her in the guestroom and would gallantly close the door behind her until the weather improved. Disappointment spiraled through her. Her whole body still reeled from his kiss. She wanted to be with him. She wanted to experience a night in Yves’s arms.
“Easy on the car. You don’t have to stomp on the floor.” He put a restraining hand on her knee. His touch ignited tongues of fire along her thigh and an incandescent ball in her belly. Her tapping redoubled and he chuckled. “I know the rain is getting on your nerves.”
She studied his handsome features and the twinkling in his eyes. Just take me in your arms.
But he’d already turned his head and opened the door of the car to get out.
Either he had more will power than she
gave him credit for, or…
Oh my God, he was used to more experienced women who could please him while she…
Tears of frustration prickled her eyes. She blinked them back, climbed out, and slammed the door of the car behind her. His jaw slackened as he stared at his precious Ferrari.
“Sorry.” Without adding another word, she followed him to the elevator and rode to the fourth floor.
He unlocked the door of his apartment and let her pass in front of him. “It’s not big but comfortable. I don’t really live here.”
Sure. He made love here. Her nerves as jittery as a hot wire, she scanned the white leather sofas and glass cocktail tables and bar, so different from the antique luxury of the chateau. “It’s nice.” The words squeezed out of her mouth with effort.
Did he always have to be the aristocratic count? Why couldn’t he ignore his ingrained politeness and be really interested in her?
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Yves smiled and helped her out of her blazer. She was so cute with her mussed up hair framing her face and the sexy dress molding her perfect figure. He squirmed, growing hard, and walked to the bar. “A liqueur, perhaps?”
“No, thank you.”
When they were at the Eiffel Tower, she had shed her icy don’t-mess-with-me attitude and sought his kiss. Big progress he fully appreciated and enjoyed. Since then she’d seemed to regret her bold move and had often frowned. Even if it killed him, he’d tread carefully around her until she loosened up.
Setting back the bottle of Cointreau on the bar without filling a glass, he opened a door to reveal an elegant bedroom. “Here is the guest room. It has its own bathroom.”
Mary-Beth crossed her arms and eyed him.
Merde, she was upset all right. He knew it was almost sacrilegious to bring her to his love-nest where so many women had visited over the years, but he was doing his best to behave properly.
“Go ahead.” He led her to the guest room. “Make yourself comfortable.” He clasped his hands behind his back, hoping his perfect behavior would compensate for the reputation of his apartment.
“This room… The guest room.” She jerked back, visibly offended.
Yes, he shouldn’t have brought her here. He respected her too much for that. This respect would surely kill him. Shoving his hands in his pocket to keep from reaching to her, he glanced at the bar. He could use a drink.
He stared at her, for once at a loss about what to do. “Mary-Beth, if you want us to leave right away, we can go.”
Her mouth puckered and she averted her gaze. “No. It’s still pouring.”
“It’s not a problem, I can dr—”
“No.” She spat the word without looking at him.
What was wrong with her? He took a step toward her.
She backed up, her mouth set in a stern line and her eyes flat, giving him nothing.
He cursed under his breath and slammed his arms against his side. For a connaisseur de femmes, he’d grossly failed to understand the woman he valued above others. Mon Dieu, she was the only one he wanted to hold in his arms and cherish. “Mary-Beth, something is bothering you.”
She twitched her lips and frowned.
“I thought you had a wonderful day. I know I did.”
“Oh yes, it was a wonderful day.” She sighed and faced him with regret and hope in her eyes.
“So?” It wasn’t like Mary-Beth to remain tight-lipped when something upset her.
Her shoulders slumped. “An out-of-this world day.”
This was going nowhere. Crossing the space between them, he cupped her shoulders and steeled himself not to pull her into his arms. “Mary-Beth?” he gently probed. “Is it so difficult to tell me what is bothering you?
“Yves, I know you can choose any woman you want. I mean you only had beauties in the past. Except once… I mean I want... Oh damn… I’m blabbering. Please, forget what I said… You’ve already been the perfect host today. Thank you.”
Her beautiful eyes glistened with tears and with the fire he’d seen when he kissed her. Hope burst into his heart. Earlier, she’d asked him to kiss her but then withdrew. Could it be possible she wanted him as much as he wanted her?
“You don’t have to thank me. I enjoyed every moment as much and more than you did.” He pulled her against him and stroked a soothing hand over her head. “Especially our kiss.” How long could they ignore the chemistry sizzling between them?
“Please, don’t pretend.” Pain rippled beneath the ice in her voice.
“Pretend what?”
His body hardened. His pulse raced. Forget respect, forget friendship. She was free and he wanted the dazzling woman he had in his arms. Now.
“That … I am not your type of—” Tears of frustration tickled her eyes.
“I never pretend. I never lie. And right now I want you more than any other woman.” His lips covered her mouth, brushed, tasted, devoured and demanded she believe him. In the silence of the room, their hearts drummed against each other in a joyful echo.
He released her suddenly and peered into her eyes. “Mary-Beth, I’m not good enough for you and I don’t like strings. You would resent me forever if I gave in to temptation.”
“No, I won’t resent you.” Her face brightened with a lovely smile. “Yves,” she breathed against his mouth. “I just got rid of my own strings.” She squirmed. “In the past—”
“Stop thinking about the past.” He wouldn’t let her inhibitions destroy their present. “You were a cute virgin then. Now you are a stunning woman, a man’s fantasy. I can’t keep away from you in spite of my efforts. I need you. I need to feel your face, your hair, your body, even your smell,” he added as her perfume enveloped him and he inhaled the delicious scent that had tantalized him for a month.
****
Mary-Beth tried to read his eyes. Yves didn’t give her time to answer. His mouth took hold of hers before she collected her thoughts.
To hell with thoughts. Having coherent thoughts when Yves kissed her was impossible. She played with the silky hair at his nape and allowed him to take control of her senses. His tongue did its crazy dance inside her mouth. His burning hand closed over her breast and gently fondled. Warmth spread to her chest and belly while she melted against him.
He scattered kisses over her cheeks, along her jaw and down her throat. “I want you,” he murmured against her skin as he swiftly unzipped her dress.
“I want you too.” With shaking fingers, she slid her dress down her legs and tossed it away.
His eyes burned her as he slowly appraised her breasts, overflowing the lace bra— the only part of her that had never lost weight over the years. She hid them with trembling hands, worried he wouldn’t like what he saw.
“Don’t,” he ordered, his voice husky. He drew her hands away. “Don’t deprive me of the pleasure. I have waited long enough.” His fingers trailed over the lace that covered her. “Your breasts are the most beautiful I have ever seen.”
Her heart beat a joyful tremolo against her ribs. “Oh, Yves,” she murmured. Inappropriate words of thanks lumped in her throat.
“Let me honor them as due.” His smile sent searing heat to her face and her chest. He unclasped the bra, peeled it away and bent his head to trail kisses over her quivering flesh. When he sucked on a nipple, she moaned and combed his hair with her nails, pressing his head against her. He savored her other breast with the same fervor until her knees buckled.
Attentive to her reactions, he tilted her chin up with a finger to peer into her eyes.
“Chérie, be patient. We have all night.” His gaze glittered, carrying a promise of pleasure she was eager to feel.
She shivered in anticipation. “All night? I can’t wait.”
“No waiting required, my dearest Mary-Beth. We enjoy each other. I caress and taste you, and you feel.”
“But I want to caress and taste, too.”
He burst out laughing. “Always assertive and thorough, Dr. Drake. I like that.”
“I like it, too.” She reached unbuttoned his shirt, slowly, concentrating on the task, and pulled it open to reveal tanned skin over toned muscle. “I mean I like your chest.” She grazed his abs with delight, raking her fingers through the soft hair.
She would have her night of love, of passion and fire. A night to last her a lifetime. Her stomach clenched with desire. She gulped a breath, unbuckled his pants, glanced up at him, hesitating, her hand frozen on his zipper.
He watched her intently and caressed her cheek. “Need help?”
“Nope. I can do it.” She bit her lip while she lowered the zipper and pushed his pants down his legs.
“I know.” He chuckled. “You’re a temptress. A good one, and I want to be tempted.” The bulge in his briefs confirmed his words. Her breath lumped in her throat.
He wrapped his arms around her waist and squeezed her with so much strength she couldn’t breathe. His lips glided over her mouth, her closed eyes, her cheeks, her throat. “Oh, ma chérie. It’s my turn again now.”
He laid her down on the bed and slipped off her high-heels, rubbed her toes, and stroked her ankles. Goose bumps sprouted over her skin. She shut her eyes and reveled in his erotic massage of her feet. He drew a fiery path of kisses along her legs and thighs. When she shivered with delight, he slipped her thong off and got rid of his briefs.
Lying down beside her, he played with her breasts and laved their hard peaks with his tongue. Blazing sensation singed her skin. Tension built. He was too slow, deliciously slow, and she was on fire. She bent over him, licked his nipple, and sucked on it until he tensed and pulled her face away from his chest.
“Enough,” he groaned. “Let me take care of you first.”
“See. I want more…I mean less…” she cried her frustration. “You’re too kind, too slow, treating me like a virgin.” She clamped her mouth shut not to tell him she was about to explode with need.
Turning to her side, she threw her leg over his hip, and cupped his buttocks, trying to pull him hard against her. He captured her mouth and kissed her deeply. Their tongues tangled as his finger slid into her moist heat.
“Yves.” She shuddered and wrapped her fingers around his erection, stroking fast as her own pleasure escalated.