"Of course, and why not?" Mischievously she added, "After all, Raoul is paying and I'm sure only wants the best." She reached for the phone and spoke in rapid French for several minutes then ended up in English. "Armand, you are a star. I owe you one." As she put down the phone she said to Kris, "Get your skates on girl, the great man will see you and PJ this afternoon! How's that for service?"
The salon was all gilt and plush carpets and the lady that came forward to meet them was reed-slim and immaculately groomed. Kris felt a little intimidated, but her awkwardness fell away as they were shown into Armand's studio and he greeted them with a naturalness she found surprising. First they discussed PJ's dress and an excited little girl was led away to have her measurements taken so the seamstress could make a beautiful, frilly, flounced dress that would delight her heart.
Kris told Armand about the traditional Chinese wedding dresses she had recently seen in Hong Kong and he instantly loved the idea. "Very saucy, very different and very sexy," he said when it was decided she would wear a flaming red silk, Chinese-style, sleeveless dress with a mandarin collar and a deep slit to the thigh. Its sleek fitting would show off her superb figure.
Although the women in China wore white dresses during the first wedding in City Hall, they would then change into a scarlet one for the traditional ceremonies and the wedding reception. Armand agreed that since this was also her second wedding, red would be an excellent choice.
She would pile her hair high and wear long flashy earrings with no other ornamentation, apart from her rings. It would cause a stir, of that she was certain, and it gave her a sense of rebellious satisfaction. Knowing that Isabella and her cronies would scrutinize her from every angle, she decided to wear something that wouldn't give anything away. She knew that she'd have to have Dutch courage to face some rather catty remarks that were bound to come her way because of her clothing choice. Besides, feeling and looking good would help her cope, and that was most important.
As The day dawned, guests began arriving in a continual stream. For a while, Kris felt a part of the proceedings as she received the congratulations and best wishes from everyone. She felt as if she were a part of a dream.
Nevertheless, whenever she had a moment to herself, a sinking feeling of disaster would hit her.
Raoul was polite enough and, of course, charming to his friends. He had arrived later than expected, and with all the comings and goings, no one noticed that he was hardly ever by her side. He even sent one of the staff to tell her he suggested they meet in their suite at about seven p.m. before they changed, so they could discuss any final plans before they made their entrance at eight that night.
Promptly at seven, Kris went into their suite. Raoul was already there, casually wearing a dressing gown prior to changing for their big night. His raw masculinity took her by surprise, but he misconstrued the expression that flitted across her face.
"Don't look like a startled rabbit -- this is supposed to be a celebration." He waved her to a seat by the window as he added sarcastically, "At your instigation, don't forget."
Kris closed her eyes and sighed. She didn't need this right now.
There was an open bottle of white wine and two glasses on the table before him. He didn't bother to ask if she wanted one, but poured it and handed it to her saying, "This should settle your nerves. I don't suggest you drink one as you get farther along, though." His eyes skimmed around the room, looking for something. "I hope you haven't gone over the top with your dress. I know how you women go crazy about weddings and all the frills."
Kris raised her chin, tossed her head and answered tartly, "You've had no cause to complain so far." A twinge of panic fluttered in her stomach when she thought of the red dress lying on her bed -- maybe it would seem over the top as far as he was concerned. But that was too bad. This was her day and she would do it up her way.
She hid her doubts by having a sip of wine and he started talking about some minor concerns about the evening.
Looking at his watch he said, "Well, the time has come to get ready." He stood up, and with his characteristic little nod of the head, he left the room.
At seven-fifty, PJ burst into Kris' room, dressed and excited.
"Darling, you look wonderful!" Kris exclaimed as Mrs. Cree followed behind the bouncing girl.
The old lady had immediately offered her assistance when she had heard of the wedding reception, and had been a tower of strength during the past days. "Thank you for helping her dress." Kris turned to see her wide-eyed with admiration at the sight of the beautifully poised-looking woman before her.
"Oh, Kris, you look beautiful. Raoul must be so proud to say you are his wife." Taking the younger woman in her arms, she hugged her tight then looked her right in the eye. "Love him, Kris. He desperately needs a woman like you. Be patient with him when he's difficult, and take time to know him because he's a good man. I knew you would be right for him from the first time I saw you. It won't all be plain sailing, you don't have to tell me. But time will make you both strong, and I know the two of you will be happy. You both deserve it. God bless you, my dear."
"Oh, thank you, thank you..." Kris became choked with emotion, but she tried hard not to let the tears start and ruin her perfectly applied make-up.
Mrs. Cree -- without instruction -- moved to the inter-leading door and knocked sharply. "It is time you had a minute with your bride, young man. PJ and I will be outside waiting for you. Hurry up now." She opened the door a crack. "Come on, then."
There was a chuckle from the other side. "Okay! Okay! You are a loveable old nag." He emerged and gave the elder woman a warm hug.
Kris stood tall, but apprehensive, suddenly wishing she had chosen something less conspicuous. As she watched the two of them, the impact of his appearance hit her. She had never seen him so distinguished, and he was her husband. Her husband! "Thank you, Mrs. Cree for those encouraging words."
Raoul peered at her over the top of the old lady's head and stared with wide eyes. "My, God!"
Mrs. Cree quickly and quietly took PJ by the arm and left the room.
The look on his face told her he was pleased with her choice of dress. A smile played around the fullness of his mouth. He cocked a brow and said quietly, "Very different, very attractive. It's time to get the show on the road, Kris. Are you ready?"
Numbly, she nodded her head. "Yes, I'm ready."
He stepped aside and allowed her to pass him.
Under different circumstances, she would have considered the evening a triumph, both for organization and glitter. Beautiful people moved about and conversation usually turned to the suddenness of Raoul's marriage. But since his bride was such a lovely, giving woman, they all felt sure why Raoul had been in such a hurry.
Isabella looked stunning in a black dress slashed cunningly in gold. She had been less than civil to Kris, but gushingly vivacious when Raoul was nearby. The gossipers had marveled that she had even shown up for the occasion.
The two women happened to be alone at the edge of the room when Isabella, with large innocent eyes said, "You look very pale Kris. You'd better get yourself together -- Raoul doesn't like wilting violets."
...x...
Most of the houseguests went to bed early, but the last of the visitors drifted off sometime after midnight. She noticed with surprise that Raoul had been drinking heavily. Her stomach churned as she decided to pluck up enough courage to tell him that she was going to bed. There was only a handful of men at the bar with him, and they wouldn't miss her.
When she approached him, his eyes raked her from top to toe. Kris expected him to wave her off to bed, but he surprised her by grasping her wrist in a vice-like grip. It didn't hurt, but she wasn't able to wiggle free either.
"Wait for me. I'm having one for the road." He ignored the ribald remarks from a couple of his friends and deliberately poured a stiff whisky, not relaxing his grasp. He also ignored the smooth feel of her wrist against the rough flesh of his palm. The contrast heig
htened the wild attraction he'd been fighting toward her all evening. Kris -- once more -- was twisting his insides into knots.
He took the drink in two gulps and said briskly, "Let's go."
Kris kept a steady eye on Raoul and her heart beat faster when his ushered her quickly to their room. He was intoxicated and she feared he would give in to his baser instincts.
After closing the door to their rooms, he cracked a smile when she nearly ran to the other side of the room. But a short distance wouldn't stop him from having her in his arms tonight. "Turn around, Kris." When she turned slowly to face him, he added, "Take that off. It fits you like a damned glove, so sexy and appealing. But it isn't the dress I wish to see. I want to see you in the moonlight." Raoul indicated she remove the dress with a wave of his hand.
"No, Raoul, please don't start this again. I'm too vulnerable to refuse you. And you're too drunk to really mean any of this. Please--"
"Take it off, dammit, or I'll do it! I'd hate to tear what no doubt cost me a fair bit." Raoul crossed the room, losing his balance once before reaching her. She stood her ground bravely and he admired the spirit she showed to stand up to him. His hand stroked up her flank and moved up to the top of the slit in her skirt. "Hmm, interesting...very sexy. Hurry or I'll do it myself."
Embarrassed, Kris undid the zipper and let the dress slowly fall down around her feet. The black lacy bra hardly covered her soft white breasts. The sheer black panties had a shimmer from the glow of her skin. Her long legs looked magnificent in the high-heeled sandals, and she was aware of what black stockings and suspenders could do to a man. She was afraid of his mood, unsure.
Then again, maybe this moment could work to her advantage. If she could bring him to his knees, maybe she could finally get him to listen to her. Though that might be easier said than done when he ran the flat of his palm down her throat, across her chest and down to the top of her leg.
"Take it all off, Kris. Every piece."
"Yes, Raoul, I will. But then you must undress too." The wicked gleam in her eye should have warned him, but his own gaze was focused on her rising and falling breasts.
His hands reached for her waist. "Me? I don't think so, Kris. I'm in charge here."
Laughing wouldn't have worked toward the mood she was trying to establish, so Kris kept silent. Undressing for him would be just the thing to help her be the one in charge, for a change.
Kris had to admit to a certain tingling sensation at him watching her so closely. His eyes opened wide and he blinked several times, licking his lips in anticipation of her kisses. She was only now understanding the power a woman could hold over a man. And Raoul wanted her, if only for this moment.
She put her hands to the bra clasp and noticed him watching it fall to the floor. Pushing her panties down over her hips, she wiggled until they also fell to the floor. He took a step back, his eyes dark and unfathomable as they skimmed over her smooth body from head to toe. His growing passion was visible in his tight fitting black trousers, and she couldn't help but notice his chest heaved in and out, as if he were gasping for breath. He watched her every move as she unclasped the suspender belt and slowly rolled down the black stockings. She felt totally exposed under his gaze and stiffened her resolve to see this through.
"Let your hair down," he murmured roughly.
As she lifted her arms, her breasts rose. He reached out and trailed his fingers across them sensuously then down to her waist, pressing low on her back to mould her against his hardening body.
Raoul couldn't resist the call of her mouth a moment longer. His lips caressed hers softly back and forth, then harder as his passion increased. With a hand in her hair, he pulled her head back gently and kissed her throat. The heat in his kiss branded her until Kris felt her body would go up in flames. He pushed up at the base of each breast in turn with his other hand, his mouth trailing down her chest to kiss the full soft flesh, his warm mouth teasing her hardening nipples. A drugged heavy feeling infused her lower limbs.
The sensation of passion cleared his head and Raoul realised he was being too rough, his savagery once more taking over. Cursing vehemently, he released her so suddenly, she fell away from him, nearly falling. With quick reflexes, he grabbed her by her shoulders to steady her, damning himself with every breath he drew into his passion-starved body.
His mind was groggy with drink, but not too much for his conscience to tell him this was not the way to handle things. His body wanted her desperately, but his desire didn't justify such rough behaviour and he felt disgusted with himself. I keep behaving like an animal when I am near her...why? Only now was he beginning to understand that deep within him were intensely passionate emotions that surfaced whenever Kris was near. New feelings had long ago formed in his heart and he discovered he wanted to earn Kris' heart. Behaving like a rutting animal was not going to do it.
"I swore I would never hurt you again, Kris, and here I am doing it. Damn it all to hell!"
Kris reached for him, but he backed away quickly, fear in his eyes. "Oh, Raoul...can't you see by now that I want you as much as you want me. I crave your touch and--"
"No!" Raoul crossed the room before the temptation of her words brought back the beast in him. "That is exactly what I'm talking about. I can see the fire in your eyes and all that does is allow me to release my own passions. It's you, Kris. Only you have ever had this affect on me. I see you, I feel you against me and I lose my mind. I can't let that happen again..." He glanced down at her stomach and his lips tightened. "Especially in your condition," he finished quietly.
"Here..."
Raoul bent and scooped up her fallen clothing, holding it out as if afraid she would touch him. God, but it hurt -- her heart, her soul.
Taking her clothing, she walked on numb legs until she made her way to the connecting door. The door shut softly and she flinched as if it had slammed. Kris cringed when the key turned to lock her out. He wanted her, yes. But he wouldn't allow himself to be with her in any way. She'd failed and knew that no matter what she told him in the future, he would never believe her.
Humiliated, angry and bewildered, she cried out her pain. Still naked, she dropped her clothes and fell onto the bed with her head buried in her pillow. Her body shook uncontrollably, the pillow muffling her sobs of pain.
Sometime later, she heard the key grate in the lock of the connecting door and she stiffened. Expecting Raoul to enter, she sat up half-afraid of what he might say or do. But no one entered and the silence eventually made her drowsy. Within a few minutes, she drifted off to sleep.
As expected the next morning, Raoul was his charming self to the remaining guests. When the last one left, though, his manner changed abruptly. She missed the joy of seeing him smile and laugh.
"I am apologising for last night," he began abruptly. "You are my wife and deserve my respect. You shall have it. Last night will never be repeated, Kris. I vow on my deceased wife's grave. You should know, I've decided to leave, too. Everyone knows we have honeymooned overseas already, and I hope they will find other things to think of besides you and me. I have a heavy business schedule coming up and I want to prepare for it. If you need me for anything, you have only to call me."
Her red-rimmed eyes were hidden behind dark glasses. "Thank you. Isabella has already told me how busy you were going to be." Busy with her arms surrounding you, her gorgeous body in your bed.
"I had planned to tell you, but if she's done it, then there's no need." Her real meaning had gone right over the top of his head. "Whenever you are ready, phone the office and they will arrange for the plane to take you back to Portugal. I suggest you and PJ go as soon as possible. The atmosphere will, no doubt, be better for you there."
In a low, warning voice he added, "Though the father of your child will also be interested in your return, I believe I've made it quite clear that you are my wife and I will break him if he lays a hand on you again.
"I intend to carry on with my business life as usual. I'll keep y
ou informed as to my movements, in case PJ needs me. I'll come to the house when I can to visit her. Understand, nothing has changed between us. All I ask is that you keep PJ's interests at heart and behave accordingly. If you do, things should work out fine for all of us."
Kris flushed at his presumptions about their baby. Nearly in tears, she tried once more, "Raoul, if you would only let me speak, I can explain so much, but you cut me off every time. All I wanted to say is that Carl and I are--"
"I will cut you off, Kris, again and again, for there is nothing I wish to hear about that man. I am giving that baby of yours a name, and I will treat it as my own. Don't forget who deserted you and who is willing to raise your child! All I want is discretion on your part. You are Mrs. Metier and eyes are upon you all of the time."
His voice softened noticeably when he added, "You did a good job yesterday -- by the way -- for which I must thank you." He smiled a little and nodded, guilty when he saw tears forming in her eyes. "I must go, Kris. Where's PJ?"
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