SMITTEN (Paris Après Minuit)

by Juliet Braddock

  January continued to look out the window as Nigel made his way across the manicured lawn with the dogs following behind him. They’d made their escape when he opened the door, but he didn’t seem to mind their company. January, on the other hand, couldn’t take her eyes off his perfect ass in those riding pants. All that was missing was the crop in his hand, but she had high hopes for later.

  “So, I thought we’d start with something simple but very French…”

  Clarissa must have been talking, but January hadn’t heard a word. In response, she spoke through her toothy grin. “French toast?”

  “Well, it’s almost as easy as French toast,” Clarissa said, “I hope you like crepes?”

  “Love them…”

  Somehow, January had to make it through the next hour, but everything Clarissa said made her think of Nigel. Mind on overdrive, she just kept imagining their conversations.

  When they were mixing ingredients, January’s thoughts shot to him.

  “Alright, darling, add a pinch of salt to that batter and beat it thoroughly.”

  “Well, speaking of pinching and beating…did I tell you that your son has a talent for spanking? Why, he cracked my bare ass last night in the back of his car!”

  When she didn’t whisk away all the lumps of flour, January had even bigger problems.

  “Let’s strain that mixture…”

  “No, Nigel didn’t restrain me yet, but I hope we’ll get to that this evening.”

  January’s cooking skills were basic, at best. She felt like an amateur under the tutelage of Julia Child, but Clarissa tried her best with her student.

  “Now, dear, work your wrist with that pan—you really want an even spread…”

  “Oh, your son spread me just fine last night…”

  And if that wasn’t bad enough, January had to flip the damn thing over.

  “That’s it. Now, take your spatula and turn your crepe over…”

  “Spatulas make great paddles in a pinch! And he’s already quite good at flipping me over...”

  When January finished her first lesson without burning down the kitchen, she wondered what Clarissa thought of her progress. At that point, she was just relieved that her time was up.

  “You’ll get this. It’s not so hard, right?”

  Yes, it is, and so was your son when we fucked last night, January’s mind raged, but instead, she said simply, “Oh, no. Not at all.”

  After eating up and thanking Clarissa profusely for her time, January decided to take a little walk. She just needed to step away from everyone and clear her cluttered head. Clarissa directed her toward some hiking trails that snaked through the property, and January chose the path farthest away from the stables.

  The sky wasn’t its usual bright, blinding blue, but a little storm was always nice. January actually thought that thunder and lightning were romantic. She decided, though, not to wander too far away just in case the weather turned on her.

  Far too much had happened in such a short time, and she hadn’t had the chance to take stock. She dumped Etienne, went on vacation and met Nigel. Now, she had no idea where to even begin in her attempt to sort through the chaos.

  One constant, though, was Nigel. He was such a smart, sweet guy, and she didn’t understand what the hell he saw in her. She was seven years his senior, and she led a crazy life. He seemed to need the quiet simplicity in which he’d immersed himself, and January wondered if she’d disrupt his orderly world.

  She liked him, and she enjoyed their lovemaking—perhaps more than she should have on both fronts. However, they hadn’t had the chance to discuss the important things yet—like figuring out how they might continue when she left Provence if he even wanted to pursue her—or the fact that she gravitated toward relationships of Domination and submission.

  Now, though, she even found herself questioning her own sexuality. She considered if she really needed a Dom to please her. Nigel seemed to have some fun playing around with the concepts of BDSM, but would he ever completely take command of her? She didn’t have that answer.

  The attraction between them, though, was undeniable. Nigel seemed to care about her life and her thoughts, just as she wanted to know more about him. Etienne only cared about what unraveled in January’s life to an extent, usually only when the situation involved him directly.

  There were also things Nigel hadn’t told her yet, and she hoped he’d find the courage soon. Admittedly, she was already losing her heart over him. She could only hope that her head would remain clear enough to figure this whole mess out.

  Just to complicate her life further, her phone began to ring. It was Etienne.

  January almost sent him straight to voicemail, and perhaps, he expected her to do just that. However, against her better judgment, she answered.

  “J-Janny? Janny…”

  Although she expected his anger to bellow against her ear, Etienne’s nervous voice trailed over the line. She could envision the sad, long look on his face with his lips pouting and his brown eyes drooping.

  “Yes…”

  “How are you?”

  “I’m doing well, Etienne.” She hoped he believed her—things weren’t so bad in her life. “I don’t have much time, though.”

  “Listen, can I see you for dinner tonight? I’m leaving on Friday again, and…I’d really like to talk to you before I go.” His voice, fraught with emotion, garnered him no pity from January. “I…I miss you, Janny.”

  As usual, things always had to be on his terms. He had to travel again, so she should run to him. She couldn’t believe that only three days had passed since she dumped him. “Etienne, I’m not even in Paris right now,” she said quickly. “And there’s no way I can make it back before Friday.”

  “You’re…you…left?” he asked.

  Rather than explaining to him that she was on a journey to find herself, she decided to keep things short, just to make him wonder. “Yes.”

  “Are you in New York? Will you return before you start filming? I can fly you to wherever I am…”

  Once again, she noted, it didn’t matter where she was or what she was doing.

  “I don’t know that it would be possible.” Convinced that he had nothing new to say, she couldn’t exhibit any interest in his proposition at this time. “I’m busy. You’re busy. I can’t imagine finding the kind of time we’d need to really have a conversation.”

  “Janny, I will make the time.”

  “Oh, Etienne…I have to go. We’ll talk another time.”

  And they would talk. She just didn’t want to disturb her fleeting glimpse of happiness. She left Etienne for good reason, and he couldn’t just repair the damage with another round of empty promises. She needed him to show her that he was serious through his actions, and until he managed to pull that off, January didn’t trust him.

  “Janny, wait…”

  However, she’d hung up before he had the chance to finish. When the phone rang again, she didn’t answer. Sadly, there was just nothing left to say.

  # # #

  Getting away was going to be tricky.

  Since January already had plans with Nigel, she decided to remain at the manor house for dinner, while Xavier headed into town. She had to admit that she enjoyed her nightly meals with the other guests. So far, no one went to the press with the story of her whereabouts.

  However, January couldn’t sit on that patio all night. She just hoped that she and Nigel timed their tryst appropriately—to avoid his parents and the torrential downpour that had been forecast for the evening. So far, the rain held off, but those ugly clouds continued to linger overhead.

  She’d just finished dessert when Nigel texted. If all went according to plan, he’d leave his cottage and text her when he reached the curve in the driveway where his parents wouldn’t see his car. January just had to get herself from the house to his Jag without Clarissa and Lawrence taking notice.

  Of course, things were always easier in theory than in practice. />
  No sooner than she read his text, the storm began with the usual flickers of lightning and cracks of thunder. Everyone rushed inside, and Clarissa directed her guests to the formal living room—which also afforded a view of the foyer.

  By that time, the rain fell in steady streams, and the heavy drops tapped at the window panes. Always the gentlemen, Nigel’s text warned her that he planned to tempt fate.

  Don’t want you to get drenched.

  Will pull in front of the house.

  Just hurry.

  The problem, of which Nigel was not aware, was not the matter of January getting wet. First, she had to get out of the house without raising too much suspicion from his parents.

  I’m here.

  “And I’m fucked,” she mumbled to herself and stood up.

  Decidedly, it was better if she made her way to the foyer before announcing her departure. For a moment, she considering lying and telling everyone she had to use the bathroom. However, that would only incite worry when she didn’t return.

  “I’m heading out now. Forgot to tell you—I have a friend picking me up. Thanks again for dinner tonight. I’ll see you at breakfast!”

  January blew kisses as she backed out the door and into the rain. Immediately, Lawrence looked to his wife. “What the devil is that girl doing?”

  As he moved to get up, Clarissa followed. “She didn’t say anything about going out…”

  When Clarissa stepped up beside him, Lawrence jumped as if she’d frightened him. “No—don’t look!”

  “Oh, come on, Lawrence, it’s probably one of her rock star boy—” Suddenly, she cut herself off. “Is that our Nigel’s car?”

  Pulling the curtain and sheers together at once, Lawrence scowled. “Oh, Clarissa…”

  # # #

  “Oh, my darling lady, you’re soaked!” Nigel tried to speak as he made a quick U-turn on the driveway. Her kisses didn’t make his life any easier. Nor did the fact that she happened to be wearing a very wet white dress. “Are you alright?”

  “Well…”

  “What’s the matter?”

  With obvious nervous energy, she fidgeted. “We might have been caught.”

  “Oh, dear…” His breath quickened as if he were about to have a panic attack. “Oh, dear…what happened?”

  “Well, your mother invited everyone into the living room the second it started to storm, and I had to get out the front door,” she explained. “I hadn’t mentioned that I had plans, and I left rather abruptly. But I’m pretty sure I saw Daddy Hereford-Smyth, looking out the window just now.”

  “My father?” He stopped the car suddenly just to bang his head on the steering wheel. “Bloody hell, my cover’s blown!”

  “What? You’re not allowed to have sex until you’re thirty?”

  Cocking his head sideways, he looked at January with a trace of humor. “I just…they don’t need to know every move I make.”

  “You do still live at home,” she reminded him. “Sort of.”

  “January! Stop, please…” However, his expression softened when he turned to her again, and he hurried to raise the heat in the car. “Are you cold? We’ll have to get you out of those wet clothes.”

  “Well, I was hoping…”

  Nigel just shook his head and laughed. She could see that he was blushing, and she just wanted to pinch his cheeks. “You are such a sex kitten.”

  “I do Kitten Play, too,” she said proudly.

  “Kitten Play?” he questioned her. “It seems I have a lot to learn.”

  “I think you’re already catching on,” she told him. “And I’m a very good teacher.”

  She couldn’t see much in the darkness, but now, she understood why Nigel insisted on picking her up. There were so many back roads and trails right on the land, and she would have never found his cottage on foot, even in the daylight.

  As they traveled along a gravel driveway, which seemed like the road to nowhere, Nigel reached for her hand. “We’re almost there,” he assured her. “And you haven’t left my mind since I dropped you off in the middle of the night.”

  “Same here.” Her thoughts drifted to his scar again, and she wondered if he planned to reveal its origin to her that evening. However, she wouldn’t push him. “We had an adventure.”

  “I have a feeling that every day is an adventure with you.”

  Off in the distance, the shadowy figures of crumbling buildings loomed in the midst of the storm. As they approached, January realized that there were two houses built next to each other. She could only guess that the buildings were part of the expansion that his parents planned.

  In the driving rain, he pulled as close to the first cottage as he could. “Welcome to Chez Nigel,” he said as he turned off the ignition. “I will warn you that we’re still working on renovating. We’ve fixed up a few rooms on the ground floor. And the furnishings are pure Clarissa Hereford-Smyth castaways.”

  January thought it was sweet that his mother decorated for him. “Oh, Clarissa has exquisite taste,” she insisted. “I’m sure it’s lovely.”

  Nigel just shrugged. “It serves a purpose for now.” With a sigh, he gazed out the windshield into the stormy night. “Alright. I’ll come around and get you, and we’ll run for those blue double-doors.”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  Nigel did his best to try to cover her with his body as he hustled her down the cobblestone path. The stinging raindrops pelleted her skin. He’d left the door unlocked, and shoved January inside while he fumbled to find the light switch.

  Now, they were both a sopping mess, but he held her close for a kiss while the thunder and lightning continued to roar outside. “Let me get you some clothes and a blanket and a cup of tea.”

  Sometimes, Nigel was so stereotypically English, hurrying to make things better with a hot pot of tea. January grinned over his frenzied rush. “You’re awesome.”

  “So are you. I’ll build us a fire, too—in case the lights go out.”

  “Oh, I love blackouts!”

  With a cordial nod, he smiled. “I’ll be right back.”

  Rubbing her arms for warmth, she took a look around while Nigel gathered what they needed. So far, she loved everything about this place—from the post-and-beam ceiling to the weathered stone mantle that surrounded the old cast-iron fireplace. On the coffee table sat a thick, antique book on gardening. January wondered if Clarissa might have had hopes that her son might join her in her planting and pruning.

  When Nigel returned, his arms were filled with towels, clothes and blankets. “The bathroom is right off the living room if you want to wear one of my sweatshirts. I’ll finish making the tea and get that fire started.”

  She couldn’t resist caressing his cheek as she moved toward him to retrieve the stack. Despite their crazy night of loving, Nigel’s shy side emerged again, and he wanted to afford her privacy while she changed. With one sweet kiss on his lips, she headed off to shed those wet clothes.

  “Oh, January…” she groaned at her reflection in the mirror above the bathroom sink. Her hair and make-up didn’t survive the downpour. So much for waterproof everything. She had to start over, but she had to get into some warmer clothes first.

  He’d given her one of his Oxford sweatshirts and a pair of shorts that tied at the waist. As she pulled the shirt over her head, she nearly drowned in the fabric, but she loved the feel of something Nigel had worn against her skin. She gave it a sniff, but it smelled like fabric softener. She wondered if Clarissa washed his clothes, too.

  After brushing out her hair, washing her face and touching up, she hopped into the shorts just as the power flickered and then went out.

  Two seconds later, the knock came at the door. “You alright in there?”

  She opened the door and let the sleeves drop beyond her hands. Nigel wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head. He had also changed into flannel pajama bottoms and a t-shirt. It was the perfect night for snuggling.

  �
�You look adorable right now.”

  “Perfect fit, don’t you think?” She turned around so that he could get the full view. “Red carpet ready.”

  “Well, come on, you glamorous star.” Nigel took her hand to guide her back to the living room. “Before our tea gets cold.”

  Without thought, he pulled January close on the couch. Nigel just had a way of making his affections seem like the norm—not something for which she had to beg. His fingers caressed her shoulder as they watched the fire flicker, casting dancing shadows around the darkened room to the tune of the thunder that continued to boom outside.

  Just as January closed her eyes to relax for a moment in his embrace, Nigel’s trembling words took her by complete surprise.

  “I promised I would tell you everything tonight, January.” Arms tightening around her, Nigel needed her assurance. “And I have a lot to tell you.”

  “Nigel…” Unsure now whether she was actually prepared for the night ahead, she sighed. She didn’t want to pressure him to open his soul to her. “You don’t have—”

  “Yes, January, I do…”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Taking his hand, January turned so that she could look into Nigel’s eyes. “Are you sure?”

  “I have to tell you.” Detachment shaded his stare. “And for the sake of honesty, I want to do that…tonight.”

  A foreboding tug pulled at her thoughts, but she couldn’t stop him. Holding on to her breath, she waited. “Whenever you’re ready.”

  “Well...here goes…” Speaking the words he’d been rehearsing to himself all day, Nigel relayed his thoughts as if reading straight from a script. “Not long after graduation, I took a job in Paris,” he began. “I had just received my MBA from The London School of Economics. And I was so excited. I found a flat with one of my friends from Oxford. And I’d still be close to Mum and Dad in case of emergency. That’s why I didn’t go to New York. They had me later in life, and I didn’t want to leave them…but I didn’t want to be on top of them either.”