by Pamela Yaye
It was a challenge walking across the room without stepping on anything, but Marcel made it over to the walk-in closet without wiping out. His gaze flickered between the two dresses, and when he caught sight of the price tags, he almost toppled over. “You spent one hundred and ninety dollars on each dress! Why would you do that when you have a closet overflowing with designer gowns?”
“Nothing fits anymore. In case you haven’t noticed, my waistline’s expanding by the minute.” Her voice carried from inside the bathroom. “Moms-To-Be was having a sale, and I decided to pick a few things up. It’s not like I planned on spending five hundred dollars. It was a spur-of-the-moment decision.”
“Well, next time you feel an impulse to blow money you don’t have, give me a call.”
“I’m not going to call you to ask permission to spend my money.”
Frustrated by her superior, high-and-mighty attitude, he pushed open the bathroom door and strode inside. When Marcel saw Dominique standing in front of the mirror, clad in nothing but a silk robe and black high heels, his mouth fell open in silent appreciation. He didn’t mean to stare, but he couldn’t help himself. His fiancée was a perfect ten, and the sight of her frilly lace pink bra made him harder than a steel pipe. To keep from losing the thread of his argument, he fixed his gaze on the studio lights. “You promised to stick to the budget.”
“Marcel, I’m a bank supervisor, not a minimum-wage-earning teenager flipping burgers.” Dominique pulled her brush through the ends of her hair. “I meet with people in financial distress every day. Trust me, I’ll never be one of them. When money’s tight, I simply pick up an extra shift at the spa or work a Saturday afternoon bachelor party.”
“Those days of you working private parties are over!” Anger made his shoulders quiver. “You’re pregnant, and I don’t want you on your feet for hours on end rubbing on men who have the hots for you. I don’t care how much they’re paying!”
“You’re being unreasonable.”
“And you’re being selfish.”
“Marcel, can we discuss this later?” Her tone was filled with warmth, and the smile on her lips was sweet. “I hate when we argue, you know that.”
“From now on, no more outrageous spending. We’ll discuss all major purchases in ad—”
Dominique turned around, and his voice faltered.
“See anything you like?” she asked, moving toward him. “This is one of the sets you bought me from Discreet Boutique a few months back. What do you think?”
His head was in the clouds when she slipped her hands around his neck. Her robe was open for his viewing pleasure, and Marcel more than liked what he saw. He couldn’t believe how sexy she looked—five months pregnant, and she still had the ability to take his breath away. One whiff of her perfume melted away his stress, and when they kissed, he was overcome with desire. “You’re as beautiful today as you were the day we met.”
An anguished groan tumbled from Dominique’s lips. “Oh, no, please don’t mention Will’s bachelor party!” She covered her face with her hands. “I acted like such a snob when you told me you were a graduate student. You must have thought the worst of me.”
“I thought you were the most gorgeous woman I’d ever seen in the flesh.”
Her kiss aroused him, and when Dominique rubbed a hand over his shirt, Marcel knew they didn’t have a hope in hell of making it to dinner on time. “Get up on the counter,” he instructed, moving toward the sink. “Or would you be more comfortable on the bed?”
“Baby, we can’t.”
Marcel unhooked her bra, then roughly cupped her breasts. His eyes remained locked on hers as he flicked his finger across her nipple. Desire showed on her face as she released a series of moans. “Are you sure I can’t convince you to stay in tonight?” He replaced his hand with his tongue. “It’s your call. I’ll go along with whatever you decide.”
“I can’t…skip out on dinner…” Dominique broke free. “Honey, go wait for me in the bedroom. I’ll be right out.”
“Who did you say these people were again?” he asked, gliding his hands down her hips.
“Mrs. Tomlinson owns Destination Wellness, and her husband does all of the accounting. She offered me a managerial position and suggested we go over the specifics at dinner.”
“So why do I need to go?”
Dominique kissed his cheek. “Because you’ll do anything to make me happy.”
“Tell me about it,” he deadpanned, trudging out of the bathroom with his head down. “Let me know when you’re ready. I’ll be in the living room watching golf.”
Chapter 23
Dominique felt Marcel’s touch on her leg and shot him a cheeky smile. He’d been feeling on her ever since the hostess at the seafood restaurant seated them at their corner table. Turned on by his sly, uncharacteristic grin, she laid her hands on top of his, and moved it up to her thigh. He didn’t speak, but desire shone in his eyes. Marcel was a simple, low-key guy who liked perusing used bookstores and pondering the meaning of life over a glass of wine, but he was always in the mood for sex. Dominique never would have guessed that someone so astute would have the sexual appetite of a seventies rock star, but her fiancé did.
“I want you,” he whispered, caressing her inner arm.
Marcel gestured toward the public bathrooms, and Dominique smothered a giggle with her hand. Pregnant women didn’t do the nasty in public, and although she was craving his touch, she wasn’t about to indulge in his risqué fantasy. Besides, what would Ms. Tomlinson and her husband think if they left the table within seconds of each other?
“Have I persuaded you to accept the position, or will it take another expensive dinner to win you over?” Mrs. Tomlinson’s joke drew laughter from around the table. “Seriously, Dominique, I couldn’t think of anyone more qualified for the job. The clients at Destination Wellness adore you, and you have the most incredible work ethic.”
“My mind’s overrun with wedding details right now, but I promise I’ll make a decision after we come back from our honeymoon. Is that okay?”
“No problem,” she said, waving her hand dismissively. “I remember what it’s like to be pregnant. If you think you’re memory’s bad now, just wait until you’ve had a couple more!”
Marcel chuckled. “How many kids do you guys have?”
“Four.” Mr. Tomlinson said with a proud smile. “Three girls and a boy.”
“I was done having kids after our second child was born, but Mr. Man just had to have his boy,” Mrs. Tomlinson teased, pointing at her husband. “Do you guys know the sex of the baby?”
“We’ll find out at our next ultrasound if this little one cooperates.” Dominique ran a hand over her stomach. “But it really doesn’t matter what the gender is as long as he or she is healthy.”
“You guys must be really excited. Only a few more months left to go, huh?”
Dominique nodded. “Marcel’s been over the moon since the moment I told him, which was shocking, since we hadn’t known each other long when I found out I was pregnant.”
“It takes a special kind of man to readily accept fatherhood,” Mr. Tomlinson said, raising her glass to her lips. “Most guys would have bailed, but Marcel proposed. Consider yourself lucky, Dominique. I know plenty of single moms who’d give their right arm to be you.”
“Can I interest anyone in dessert?” The waitress loaded their empty dinner plates onto her tray. “We have a new menu and several award-winning additions.”
Everyone at the table declined, and Mr. Tomlinson requested the check.
The waitress placed it on the table. “Take your time. There’s no rush.”
“Tonight, dinner’s on me,” Dominique announced, snatching up the bill.
Mrs. Tomlinson frowned. “I can’t let you do that. After all, I’m the one who suggested we have dinner in the first place.”
“You can pick up the check next time, because I have a feeling this is going to be the first of many double dates!”
> The couple laughed.
“At least let us leave the tip,” Mr. Tomlinson said as he reached into his wallet. “You guys have a baby on the way, and believe me, they’re not cheap!”
Underneath the table, Marcel squeezed Dominique’s thigh. This time, she ignored him. Disappearing into the men’s room for a quickie was out of the question. Once the bill was paid, she’d think about giving him a taste—but not a second sooner. “Honey, do you have fifty dollars I can borrow?” she whispered, shielding her mouth with her hand so the Tomlinsons wouldn’t hear her. “I’m just a little bit short.”
Marcel didn’t answer.
“Are you okay?”
The terse expression on his face told her he wasn’t. “You can’t afford to pay for dinner. You’re trying to clear your debt, remember?” he whispered.
“How can I forget when you keep reminding me?” she hissed.
“I wouldn’t have to keep reminding you, if you’d stop spending money you don’t have.”
“It’s my money, and I can spend it any way I want. You’re not my financial advisor, so just stay out of it.”
“What you do affects the both of us. How many times do I need to tell you that?”
Dominique started to speak but stopped when she heard dishes clatter behind her. The waiter returned, but instead of giving the brunette the bill, she set it aside. “I think I’ll have some dessert after all,” she announced, ignoring the angry looks Marcel was shooting at her. “Can you please bring me a dessert menu?”
The waitress took one out of her pocket, then left.
“If it’s okay with you guys, we’re going to get out of here,” Mr. Tomlinson said, slipping on his suit jacket. “I promised our youngest daughter I’d be home in time to read her Hansel and Gretel, and if I’m late she’ll hide the remote from me again!”
After hugs, and promises to have dinner again soon, the couple headed off to the coatroom.
“What the hell was that about?” Dominique ragged, turning to face Marcel. “Why were you trying to embarrass me in front of my boss and her husband?”
“Why did you offer to pay the whole tab? Don’t you get it? You can’t afford to do those things anymore. You have a substantial amount of debt, and you’ll never be able to pay it off if you keep ordering things from the shopping channel, blowing money on dinners, coffees and other crap you don’t need!”
Dominique clamped her lips together to keep from cursing. This is all my fault. I shouldn’t have told him about my debt. One night after making love, she’d told Marcel the truth about her finances. Confident he wouldn’t judge her, she’d admitted to spending impulsively, taking cash advances on her credit cards and giving her sisters money she didn’t have. “I told you about my debt because I thought I could trust you. If I knew you were going to be on my case every time I spent a dollar, I wouldn’t have confided in you.”
“The bottom line is you need to get your spending under control—”
“No one asked you, so why don’t you just stay out of it!” Fighting back tears of frustration, she forged on, giving voice to all the thoughts crowding her mind. “You know what your problem is, Marcel? You think life will fall apart if you’re not the one calling the shots. Relationships don’t work that way. You can’t be the one to make all of the decisions all of the time. You’re not always going to be right, and it’s time you realize it!”
Marcel gestured to her glass. “If I hadn’t been sitting here all night, I’d swear you’d been drinking something a hell of a lot stronger than mineral water.”
“I disagree with you, so I must be drunk, is that it? You have some nerve.”
“This conversation is going nowhere.” Marcel stood, and pushed back his chair. “I don’t have time for this. I’m taking my final exam next week, and I need to study.”
“Do what you have to do. Don’t let me stop you.” Dominique picked up the dessert menu and perused the front page. “Bye. See you later.”
“Aren’t you coming with me?”
“Nope.”
“You know what? You’re acting childish and—”
“I’d choose my words carefully if I were you,” she warned, slicing her eyes across his face, “You have to study, and I’m not ready to leave, so I’ll call a taxi when I’m finished eating my very expensive, very decadent dessert.”
“I don’t like the idea of you taking a cab by yourself.”
“I’ve only been doing it for the past ten years,” Dominique grumbled, shaking her head. “Go home, Marcel. I don’t need you to babysit me.”
“Phone me as soon as you get in. That way I know you’re safe.” He glanced at his watch, then back at her. “I’ll be expecting your call within the hour.”
“Sure, dad. Whatever you say.”
Marcel stared at her for a long moment, and then he was gone.
Dominique pretended to be playing with her cell phone, but she was secretly watching Marcel. He spoke briefly to the waitress before disappearing through the lounge. It annoyed her to hear him complain about her debt. He made her feel stupid and irresponsible, as if she’d purposely racked up forty thousand dollars on her credit cards. What is Marcel’s problem? It’s not like I’m his spending his money or asking him to pay my bills, she thought, seething inwardly. Four hours ago, they’d made out in her bathroom, and now she was sitting alone at the corner table at the Blue Water Grill. How can one man can make me the happiest I’ve ever been and angry enough to kill him all in the same night?
To pass the time, she phoned Taryn. As expected, she didn’t answer. Dominique left a message and hung up. These days, her sister was too busy dating to check in with the family, and her lack of availability was starting to drive a wedge between them.
“Are we all set?”
Dominique smiled as she handed the waitress her credit card. “Thanks for everything.”
“Ma’am, your boyfriend has already paid the bill,” the waitress explained, handing her back the gold MasterCard. “He also paid for your dessert.”
A frown filled her lips. Marcel paid for dinner? Was this his way of saying sorry? Dominique knew it wasn’t. Her fiancé had paid the bill because he was a gentleman. Guilt slammed into her chest. Damn him. He’d done it again! Made her feel loved and cared for when she didn’t deserve it.
“Have you decided on a dessert?”
“Yes, I’ll have a slice of the three-layer velvet cocoa cake.” Wetting her lips, she cast another glance at the menu. She was going to need a whole lot of time to think about what to say to Marcel. “On second thought, just bring the whole cake!”
Chapter 24
The only seat left in the examination room was next to the noisy, water-dripping heater. Like I don’t have enough problems, Marcel thought, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He’d overslept and missed breakfast with his academic advisor and Dominique’s ultrasound appointment. That burned him the most.
Things had been tense with Dominique ever since last Thursday’s dinner with her boss, and even now, a week later, the tension between them remained. Apologizing for missing her doctor’s appointment was the right thing to do, but Marcel couldn’t bring himself to call. Maybe it was because he wasn’t in the mood to argue with her. That was all they seemed to do these days, and he needed a break from all the drama.
His cell phone chimed, drawing stares from everyone in the room. Marcel slipped back into the hallway. Lowering his bag to the floor, he felt around in his pockets to retrieve it. Dominique’s name showed on the screen. Staring down at the phone, he carefully weighed his options. Should he answer? Or let his voice mail pick up? He was about to take the biggest exam of his life, and he needed to stay focused. He had no plan B. This was it. If he failed the certification test, he could kiss all his hopes and dreams goodbye.
Unanswered questions filled his mind. What would that mean for his relationship with Dominique? Would she still love him if he didn’t become a successful engineer? Could she be happy without the luxury ho
use, cars and designer clothes?
Tension formed giant-size knots in the back of his neck. He couldn’t worry about that now. He had to keep his eye on the prize, had to stay positive. This was the moment he’d been waiting for, the moment that would define his future, and if he blew the certification exam— Marcel struck down the thought before it took shape. Failure wasn’t an option. He lifted his head and straightened his shoulders. His confidence returned. He could do this. And when he scored the top mark in his class, he’d have his pick of engineering jobs. The largest, wealthiest companies would be pursuing him, and not the other way around. He’d have a lucrative position and finally be able to care for Dominique the way she deserved. They’d stop arguing about money, she wouldn’t perceive him as controlling and they could get back to doing what they did best—loving and caring for each other.
His phone stopped ringing but started up again seconds later. It was Dominique again. Beads of sweat broke out across his forehead. Something was wrong. Why else would she be blowing up his phone? Had the ultrasound revealed something troubling? He jabbed the Talk button and raised the phone to his ear. “Dominique, is everything okay?”
“Yes, of course. Everything’s fine. How are you?”
Marcel could tell by the lightness of her tone that she was in a good mood. “When you called back, I assumed something was wrong.”
“Are you screening my calls?”
“No, I just,” he began, stumbling over his words. “I’m sorry for missing your appointment. I studied all night, and I didn’t even hear my alarm go off this morning. You have every right to be angry, and I promise we’ll talk about it later, but I can’t get into it over the phone.”
“I missed you at the appointment, but everything went great. When you come home tonight you can look at all the pictures on DVD. But that’s not why I called. I wanted to wish you luck. Not that you need it. You’ll ace this exam, just like all the others.”
“Thanks, babe. Having you in my corner makes a world of difference.”