Stallion Magic

by Deborah Fletcher Mello

  “If you go try the foie de veau,” Natalie said. “It’s divine.”

  Noah raised an eyebrow. “Calves liver?”

  “It’s really good. And after you can walk the side streets of the Left Bank where all the boutiques and shops are. There’s the Rue de Bac, Rue de Sèvres, Rue des Saints-Pères, Rue de Grenelle, Rue du Four, Rue de Cherche-Midi, and the most exquisite lingerie in the world is at Sabbia Rosa. It’s located on Rue des Saints-Pères. It’s an amazing array of silk and lace like you’ve never seen before.”

  Naomi laughed. “She would know where the best shopping is.”

  Noah shook his head.

  “So, what’s the show schedule?” one of Noah’s twin brothers asked.

  Natalie nodded. “I’m walking Christian Dior tonight, Jean Paul Gaultier tomorrow, and of course, Tinmen on Thursday. We have tickets for everyone for every show. And of course you’re invited to all the parties where all the pretty people will be.”

  “I’m here for the parties,” Nathaniel said. “Beautiful models are right up my alley.”

  “I second that,” Nicholas exclaimed.

  “You better leave those women alone,” Naomi said, skewering them with her expression.

  “Do we have to do all the shows?” John questioned, looking to the other men for support. “I mean, we wouldn’t miss Tinmen but I don’t think I need to see what the other two designers have to offer. Marah picks out all my clothes now, anyway.”

  Marah rolled her eyes. “Really, John Stallion? This is the first time we’ve been to Paris together in ages and you want to go hang out with the men?”

  “No, baby, I just don’t want to go to a fashion show.”

  Mark nodded in agreement. “I was hoping we’d have some time to hit up the Christophe Pund classic car dealership. He’s got some rare rides that I’d like to check out.”

  “Ooh, I want to do that, too,” Michelle intoned.

  Matthew laughed. “Sounds like someone is buying another car.”

  John shook his head. “You are not buying any more cars,” he said, eyeing his brother.

  Mark tossed Noah a look. “See how they treat me!”

  They all laughed.

  Tinjin interjected, “The girls are going to the Dior show. I thought we’d all head over to the Westminster Hotel to the Duke’s Bar. It’s this great little cigar club and it has an old English pub feel with live entertainment.”

  “I’m in,” Luke said. He tossed his wife, Joanne, a wink of his eye.

  “Well, I love all of you,” Marah said, “but I fully intend to spend some quality married-people time with my husband since we don’t have a child with us for a few days.”

  “I second that,” Michelle chimed.

  “I’ve got plans for my man, too,” Katrina interjected.

  Matthew laughed. “All right now.”

  Naomi tossed up her hands as if surrendering. “Too much information, people. Way too much information.”

  Chapter 13

  Catherine and Noah both were in awe of the five-star boutique hotel that was modeled after an Italian opera house. Just minutes away from the Place Vendôme and the Palais Garnier, it sat in the heart of one of Paris’s most beautiful districts. It boasted a magnificent smoking lounge and wine bar. It all made a striking first impression.

  “And your cousin John owns this hotel?” she questioned, tossing Noah a look as she spun in a slow circle, taking it all in.

  He nodded. “Mason, my cousin Phaedra’s husband, actually built a successful hotel company that he sold to Stallion Enterprises a few years ago. That’s actually how he and Phaedra first met. This was one of the original properties. I’m not quite sure how many hotels there are now but I know there’s a lot.”

  Catherine nodded, still eyeing the exquisite surroundings. It was an exaltation of all her senses. The Stallion family had taken over the entire twenty-room property for the week, wanting their stay to feel like a family reunion. At the end of the week, in time for Tinjin and Natalie’s runway event, they were going to be joined by the children and their nannies and other extended family members from New Orleans.

  “Now, explain to me again how you’re related to the Boudreauxs?”

  Noah nodded and smiled. “Cousins by marriage. Mason and his sister Katrina married Stallions and then of course you’ve already met Kendrick. And they’ll all be here later in the week because both families invested in Tinjin’s company. They never miss any opportunity to support each other.”

  Noah opened the door to their suite. Inside, their luggage had already been delivered and someone had lit a fire in the brick fireplace. The space was decorated with heavy tapestries, sumptuous fabrics and elegant wooden furniture custom-designed by famed artist Jacques Garcia. An exquisite velvet sofa was nestled into an alcove, which looked like the perfect place to crawl up with a good book. There was an elegant marble bathroom and the toiletries were all by Hermès, the emblem of French luxury.

  Like a kid in a candy shop, Catherine rushed from room to room, her excitement abundant. Her enthusiasm made Noah laugh. Catherine stepped out onto a charming private terrace that was shaded and landscaped with flowers. The atmosphere was intimate, romantic and sensuous. The design esthetic of the entire hotel combined the best of contemporary comfort with a lyrical romanticism. It was a haven of exoticism, quiet and dreams and she thought it absolutely magical. She felt her heart flutter with anticipation.

  Stepping out onto the terrace with her, Noah studied the program his sister had left for them. There was a map, contact information for every imaginable need and a schedule of the planned events.

  “I know this is your first trip to Paris so whatever you want to do is fine with me. From here we have some impressive neighbors. The royal Place Vendôme, which is a showcase for top luxury jewelers and the Second Empire Palais Garnier, home to the Paris Opera. If you want we can go for a walk and look around. And Tinjin said there are some art galleries and secret passages nearby. We’re not far from the Palais-Royal gardens, too, which were built in the early seventeenth century. I’ve never seen them but I’m told they’re beautiful.”

  Catherine shook her head. She turned to face him, a seductive stare blessing her face. She pulled the program from his hands and dropped it to a table adorned with a bouquet of white roses. She led him back inside and closed the glass doors behind them.

  “We can do all of that,” she said, “but why don’t we save it for later. There’s something else I’d like to do with you right now.” Her voice was low, the rich alto tone a seductive breeze against his ear.

  Rising desire seeped from Noah’s eyes. “What did you have in mind, Ms. Moore?”

  Catherine wrapped her arms around Noah’s neck. Rising onto her toes, she kissed him, her mouth dancing eagerly over his. Her lips were heated. The kiss was intense, their tongues performing a slow, sensuous drag from one to the other.

  The light of the fire lit the room and shadows from the flames danced over their faces. The soothing crackling of the firewood mixed with the soft lull of the opera La bohème playing through the speakers was all that could be heard.

  Catherine was feeling toasty from the champagne they’d shared at brunch, and the look in Noah eyes melted her body into soft putty. He looked at her with such intensity, his love fueling his stare, that it made shivers course through her soul and take her breath away.

  She guided his hands to her hips, stepping against him until her body was hugged tightly to his. He was panting softly, and she dropped her head to his chest to listen to the beat of his heart, the gentle thump beginning to sound like a heavy drum. Her knees suddenly felt weak. She imagined that if Noah had not been holding her in his arms, she would have dropped easily to the carpeted floor.

  Noah’s hand trailed over her curves, his fingers teasing each dip and valley. She took a step back as he fiddled with the buttons on her white blouse, slowly exposing inch after inch of warm brown flesh. He slipped the silk garment off her should
ers, tossing it to the floor behind her. He slowly caressed her skin, trailing his fingers across her stomach, along the curve of her breasts until he reached the curvature of her neck. He gently traced her profile, still staring into her eyes, and then he leaned forward to kiss her again.

  Her lips parted in invitation, and his tongue tipped slowly in. His touch was exquisite and soft and warm. He tasted like the fresh berries he’d eaten. Catherine gasped softly, a low purr spilling past her lips. His mouth moved from her lips to her neck as he planted damp kisses against her skin.

  He drew back, still staring at her intently. It was an out-of-body experience as he swept her up into his arms and carried her into the bedroom, easing her onto the lace-draped bed. He dropped his body against hers, his mouth now reconnecting, their tongues danced against each other’s.

  Catherine felt lost in ecstasy as Noah’s fingers teased her throat, caressing her collarbone and each shoulder. Where his fingers led, his mouth and tongue followed, and her skin tingled more and more with each touch. He gently palmed her breasts, and she couldn’t begin to remember when he’d loosened her bra. Her nipples blossomed like full, ripe berries, dark chocolate nubs of candy beneath his tongue. His breath was hot and each kiss the gentlest touch. She was writhing with pleasure as he teased her sensibilities, everything about the moment like the sweetest dream come true.

  Noah loved her. If Catherine was certain of nothing else, she was certain of that. He loved her with every ounce of his being. Wrapping her arms tightly around him, she knew that every breath, every touch, every kiss, every murmur and tremor through her body was telling.

  “I love you, I love you, I love you,” she chanted over and over again, the words spun between the soft moans he was eliciting from her. “I love you!”

  With an ease and grace that awed her, Noah had stripped the both of them naked, clothes scattered across the floor. Catherine moaned loudly, her skin feeling like she’d been lit on fire. Noah settled himself between her thighs, his member sheathed. He pressed his mouth to her ear, lightly suckling the lobe between his lips, and then he plunged his tongue into the canal and his body into hers, whispering those words back to her.

  They made exquisite love, their two bodies moving as one. It was the sweetest give and take, both reveling in each other’s touch. The sensations were sweeping and heated until they were drunk with wanting, the need insatiable. They made love, every touch soothing and necessary, the desire so intense that Catherine couldn’t imagine ever wanting anyone else. Tears fell from her eyes and from his. Hand in hand, hip-to-hip, mouth to mouth, they took their loving to new heights and it was extraordinary.

  He stroked her slowly, over and over again, his body circling in and out of hers. The intimate dance grew in its intensity, a personal two-step that they were choreographing as they went along. When Noah suddenly cried out with pleasure, wrenching his body hard against hers, the gut-deep sound startled her out of the erotic trance she’d fallen into. He cried out as he fell off the edge of ecstasy, and then she fell with him, orgasmic bliss claiming them both.

  The revelry after was a quiet celebration that only they shared. It was slow caresses and easy touches and gentle, sweet kisses. Everything about the two of them together was like the city of Paris: rich, majestic and opulent. Their love a testament to time and a future both were eager to share.

  * * *

  Two days later, Catherine and Noah joined his family for dinner. For the past few days they’d wrapped themselves around each other. Their loving had covered every square inch of the suite, the outdoor terrace and some places that had come as a surprise to them both.

  Without a doubt, there wasn’t a dimple, mole, birthmark or any strand of hair Catherine wasn’t aware of on Noah’s body. They had both explored each other’s bodies until there was no further flesh to be found. They’d rested in the quiet of each other and had played as if they didn’t have a care in the world. Opening the door only to accept the room service they’d ordered, there had been no interest in anything outside the four walls of their room, both totally focused on each other.

  The family was all gathered at Le Coq, mentioned as one of their favorite haunts. Le Coq reminded Catherine of an East Village bar in New York City. It was nicely populated space, neither empty nor packed, with several different seating options throughout the room. It had an element of darkness, was a bit dilapidated but it was also sexy and spacious with good music. Catherine imagined it would be a great spot to do some serious people watching.

  As Catherine and Noah entered the private dining room, a heavy silence fell over the room, everyone turning to stare at them. Catherine could feel her cheeks flush with color, suddenly embarrassed by the attention.

  “It’s about time you two came up for air,” Naomi said as she turned her attention back to an oversized platter of pan-fried poultry livers, hearts, fried wings and spiced cromesquis with foie gras.

  Everyone in the room laughed heartily.

  Noah shook his head. “I didn’t ask for comments from the peanut gallery,” he said as he pulled out a seat for Catherine. He then took the seat beside her.

  On her other side, Katrina leaned in, whispering softly. “I want some of whatever you’re giving him,” she said, her eyebrows raised. “All my alone time was spent watching Matthew review contracts and sleep.”

  Catherine laughed as she whispered back, “If I could bottle and sell it I’d make a mint.”

  Noah could feel his cheeks turning a brilliant shade of red. A line of sweat beaded across his brow.

  Mark Stallion slapped him on the back, a wide grin across his face. “Don’t pay anyone here any attention.” He reached out to punch fists with Nicholas, the two men laughing heartily.

  “And we remember when you use to be awkward around beautiful women!” Nathaniel exclaimed, giving him a thumbs up.

  Catherine laughed, leaning to kiss his cheek. “You take your bow, baby. Your girl is a very happy woman. Don’t pay them any mind.”

  Noah brushed a hand across his face. “So, how was the fashion show?” he asked changing the subject. He looked around the table, noticing how each of the men suddenly hung their head. He laughed. “Looks like I’m not the only one who missed out!”

  “All of you make me sick,” Natalie said rolling her eyes. “Not one of you boys showed up for my show. My own husband didn’t show up!”

  “And it was a beautiful show!” Joanne exclaimed.

  Tinjin tried to wrap his arms around his wife’s thin shoulders but she pushed him away, glaring at him. “I’m sorry,” Tinjin said. “You know I wanted to be there, though, right?”

  “You wouldn’t like it if I didn’t show up tomorrow for your show, would you?” Natalie dropped her hands to her hips as she stared Tinjin down.

  Tinjin shook his head. “Don’t play, Natalia!” he exclaimed, calling her by her professional name. “You’re the face of Tinmen International. There would be no show if you didn’t show up.”

  “Ohhh!” Natalie chimed, her expression smug.

  Tinjin shook his head. He reached into the breast pocket of his blazer and pulled out a long, velvet box. “Would this make it up to you?” he questioned, passing the gift to her.

  A round of ohhs and ahhs rang around the table as Natalie flipped open the lid to expose an eighteen-carat white gold, white sapphire and diamond mesh bracelet.

  Natalie squealed with excitement as Tinjin tightened the clasp around her wrist. Throwing her arms around his neck, she kissed his cheek. “Thank you, baby. I love you.”

  Noah shook his head, a wry grin on his face as he met the look his brother-in-law tossed over his sister’s shoulder.

  “Take notes, family,” Tinjin exclaimed, a bright smile filling his face. “This is how you make your woman happy.”

  Catherine couldn’t remember ever laughing so hard with her own family, but the Stallions had her doubled over in tears. The love between them was magnanimous, the joy deeply contagious. The teasing and b
anter between them was only exceeded by the many heartfelt moments of endearment that only loved ones understood.

  They closed the doors to the restaurant, John and his brothers buying an extra two hours of the staff’s time. As they stood to leave, Natalie waved her hands excitedly.

  “Okay, everybody. And this is for you two specifically,” she said pointing a finger at her and Noah. “We pull out at exactly nine-thirty tomorrow morning so please be in the lobby by nine-fifteen. The bus is going to take us to the Eiffel Tower for a family photo shoot then we’re heading to the Carrousel du Louvre for the show. So I really need everyone to show up on time, and Noah—” she narrowed her gaze on her brother “—I need you and Catherine to just show up. None of that monkey business you two have been pulling for the past two days.”

  Noah tossed up his hands in jest. “I thought I was the big brother? I’m the one who gives orders, not takes them.”

  John laughed as he tossed an arm around his baby sister’s shoulder. “It happens to the best of us. They grow up and suddenly we don’t know anything. Isn’t that right, Phaedra?”

  His sister laughed. “Do what you need to do, girl,” she said, eyeballing Natalie. “They’ll get over it.”

  Catherine laughed. “No worries, Natalie. I promise we’ll be there on time.”

  As they all exited the building, climbing into their chauffeured vehicles, Noah winked at his sister and she smiled at him.

  * * *

  Catherine was sleeping soundly when Noah’s cell phone vibrated for his attention. He’d been up for over an hour, waiting on the call that signaled for him to go down to the lobby. Crossing the floor on his tiptoes, he carried his shoes in his hand, waiting until he’d closed the suite’s door behind him to put them on.

  Minutes later, he sat anxiously waiting, nervous energy reeling with a vengeance. As the limousine pulled up in front of the building, he stood, the concierge tossing him an easy smile as he waved.

  Charles and Hazel Moore looked travel-weary but excited as they stepped through the hotel’s doors. Their son, Charles Moore Jr., nicknamed CJ, followed on their heels. They were a distinguished family and their resemblance to each other ran deep. Catherine had her mother’s good looks, but her complexion was all her father’s. Despite the difference in their ages, CJ and Catherine could have easily passed for twins.