by Nalini Singh
“You sound breathless. What have you been doing?” Amusement lingered in the seduction of Alexandre’s voice.
She almost answered him, caught by the undertone of command. “Is something wrong with the arrangement?” she forced herself to ask.
“Non. It’s perfect. I called to say that I left you something of a thank-you gift.”
“There was no need,” she began, painfully aware that nothing would make up for the hollow feeling in her stomach. With her own words, she’d destroyed whatever might’ve grown between them. The quickness with which he’d moved on to another woman should’ve had her thanking her lucky stars. Then why did she want to cry?
“There was every need,” he said, his voice that low purr that always made her want to curl into his lap and rub herself against his body. “It’s on the doorstep. I hope you like it.” He hung up.
Charlotte stood for a second, debating whether to go and see what he’d left her. More than likely, it was a bottle of wine or chocolates, she thought, indulging her need to sulk.
He’d probably put no more thought into her gift than he would for any other employee. After all, she wasn’t a lover whose flowers had to be perfect, had to show that he thought her unique, beautiful, elegant and utterly lovely.
In the end, her curiosity got the better of her. She headed toward the door, uncaring of her state of undress. After all, who was going to see her way out here? Pulling open the door, she looked down. Her eyes widened. Tremors shivered through her entire body, starting from her heart and traveling through every nerve she possessed.
Disbelieving, she went to her knees. Hardly daring to touch what she’d handled so easily earlier, she reached out and stroked the silky soft petal of a tiny white blossom so beautifully perfect, it was almost impossibly real.
What had he said?
She is a bud of perfect beauty…
A single tear rolled down her face.
…my gift must show that I understand her need to go slow, to take pleasure in every moment of her awakening. It must convey my apology for pushing her too fast, rushing her in my desire for her.
“Ah, Charlotte, this was to make you smile, not cry.” Sounding like he couldn’t bear to see her tears, Alexandre was suddenly crouching on the other side of the flowers, wiping them away.
She should’ve been startled at his appearance, but she wasn’t. Not when her body had known all along that he was nearby. She tried to speak but couldn’t, shaking her head instead and reproaching him with her eyes. In the space of a single day, he’d shattered her heart and rebuilt it with a fatal flaw. And that flaw was him.
“I’m sorry, chérie. I thought you’d like them.” He sounded so genuinely distressed that she began to smile. She’d never thought to see cool, elegant Alexandre Dupree out of his element.
“They’re perfect,” she repeated his judgment. “But you’re an impossible man.”
“So does this mean you are ma petite again?” That charming smile blazed back to life.
She didn’t point out that she’d never agreed to be any such thing. The light in his eyes was too entrancing to dim. She had the feeling that despite his easy charm, Alexandre rarely smiled with such simple delight.
At that moment, he touched her cheek. “Will you not return inside? You must be cold.”
Startled, she looked down at herself—to her intense relief the towel had stayed put. Holding the bouquet protectively in her arms, she rose and backed into the house. “You can come in.”
Every nerve in her body went wild with warning. If she let this wild wolf into her house, he’d corner her until she was completely at his mercy. The thing of it was, she didn’t want to resist.
To her surprise, he shook his head. “You make me forget my vows when you stand there looking so very lovely. I meant what I said. I won’t rush you. But, I’m man enough to ask you for a kiss—I’m not quite sure you’ve forgiven me.”
She realized he didn’t intend to come to her and claim his kiss. He truly was asking. Swallowing, she put his gift on the nearby coffee table. Then, heart thudding, she took two steps toward him.
His smile died. “Am I so distasteful to you, chérie, that you must screw up your courage to kiss me? If that is so, I withdraw my request. Hurting you is the last thing I wish to do.”
Charlotte found herself almost running to him. “How can you think that?” she asked, pained at the bleakness in his eyes. “I…I’m just not…good at this,” she admitted. “Help me.” It was the first time in a long, long time that she’d asked anyone for help.
Alexandre felt his sophistication shatter under her whispered words. Tenderness that was almost savage in its intensity took hold of him, the passion in him merging with protectiveness such as he’d never before felt. Reaching out, he touched one golden cheek, stunned that a woman with her sensual nature would be so unaware of the sway she held over him.
“Charlotte,” he whispered, sliding his hand slowly around her nape. He tugged gently, until she was standing on the edge of the doorway, while he remained outside.
“You smell delicious—can I have you for dessert?”
She responded as he’d hoped, her nervousness buried under amusement. “Stop misbehaving.”
He felt a smile light his eyes at her mock-stern expression. “Your wish is my command.” On her nape, he moved his thumb, stroking the softness of her skin, the sheer temptation of her. “Tu es très belle.” Bending his head, he touched petal-soft lips as alluring as any one of her fragrant blooms.
At first, she was still. When he continued to barely brush their lips together in the most gentle of seductions, her body softened and her lips parted on a breath. Moving the hand curved around her nape to the golden skin bared above the towel, he rubbed his thumb along the dip of her collarbone. She gasped, her mouth opening fully under his. Then she finally touched him, pressing those fine, competent hands against his chest.
The urge to crush her sweetly welcoming body against his was almost inescapable—he fought it because he did indeed intend to savor and relish every moment of her awakening. However, he accepted the invitation of her lips, the well-hidden primitive in him starving for a taste of her lush sensuality.
Her soft moan caught him unawares. His hand tightened on her shoulder for the barest fraction of a second before he forced himself to release her, breaking the kiss before he broke his promise. The newly awakened possessiveness flaring through him wanted nothing more than to rip that towel from her body and indulge.
Her lashes lifted and liquid dark eyes met his, half-shocked, half-delighted. “I never knew a kiss could be like that.”
“Neither did I.” It was no lie. He’d never been so affected by a simple kiss, so hungry that he was hard and ready, more than willing to take any invitation she offered. It disturbed him, the power she had over his body, but not enough to make him stop his pursuit.
“Go to sleep, ma petite. Dream of me.” Meant to be a tease, it came out an order. He decided he liked giving her that order, particularly when her eyes widened even further.
“Alexandre, you…” She just shook her head and stepped back into her fairy-tale cottage, the princess retreating from the marauder at her door. Just when he thought she’d close it, she smiled just the tiniest bit and said, “Unique, beautiful, elegant and utterly lovely?”
Leaning forward, he picked up her hand and brought it to his lips, placing the softest of kisses on the tender skin of her inner wrist. “I forgot to add something.”
“What?” It was a breathy question, her pulse jumping under his touch.
He released her before she seduced him absolutely. Stepping back into the shadows, he allowed himself a smile at having finally breached her defenses. “Luscious.”
Five
Long after Alexandre had prowled off into the darkness, Charlotte sat wide-awake. She kept touching the flowers, smiling for no reason and then shivering. Not in cold. Not in fear. In desire.
Luscious.
That divinely s
exy man thought she was luscious. She knew she shouldn’t believe him, not when he had that dangerous charm. He probably said things like that all the time to get women into his bed. Of course he probably didn’t have to try very hard. A man that tempting could seduce with nothing more than a glance.
Did she want to be seduced into his bed?
Charlotte gulped and stroked a glossy red leaf, accepting the truth. Since the moment she’d seen him, want had become her constant companion. Her hands fluttered to lips still throbbing from the barely restrained passion of Alexandre’s kiss. Hunger had thrummed through that lithely muscular frame, but he’d kept it under rigid control, giving her the tenderness she needed. She wondered if he’d be just as tender in every other step of their dance.
Could she take a chance on him?
Her wariness of rich, sophisticated men rose from her knowledge that sometimes, the core of them was rotten. Witnessing Spencer manipulate Lilah all these years had left her with a healthy disrespect for the type. Yet, something defied her to think of Alexandre in the same breath as Spencer.
Her hands clenched and frown lines marred her brow. She wanted Alexandre but to her, the sharing of bodies was special, a gift to be cherished. It wasn’t something she’d ever take lightly. Then again, what she felt for Alexandre was in no way light or easy.
He made her feel fiercely female, a sensual being who hungered to learn of passion and heat. More than that, he made her feel proud of herself, of her worth as a woman. When he looked at her, he saw beauty.
Luscious.
Blushing, Charlotte finally made her way to bed, sliding in between the cool sheets dressed only in her skin. It was one of her secret indulgences, a concession to the sensual core of her, a core that most people would never see. As the sheets whispered over her heated skin, she couldn’t help remembering Alexandre’s command.
Dream of me.
He needn’t have given the order. She’d been doing that since the moment she’d laid eyes on him.
The next day, Charlotte rose before dawn to put the finishing touches on several completed arrangements, her mind on a man with dark chocolate eyes. A shiver ran through her at the memory of those eyes full of barely controlled hunger. What would it be like to have all that hunger focused on her? Could she cope?
Shaking her head, she sprayed some flowers with water and fiddled with the placement of a spray of baby’s breath. The arrangements were for the reception that would follow a wedding taking place on the grounds today. The only thing she had to prepare for the wedding itself was a floral arbor, leafy vines and delicate white roses twisting around a metal frame. She planned to do that on the spot, before she organized the arrangements in the reception hall.
The sound of a golf cart arriving interrupted her fussing. Smiling, she walked out and supervised the loading of her precious flowers onto the three carts that had turned up, driven by staff Megan had hired to help with the wedding. She caught a ride up with the flowers, having the men drop her off at the winery with her roses and vines.
The arbor’s frame was already in place to the side of the winery, where the actual wedding would be taking place. After sending the drivers to the estate house with strict instructions to place her arrangements gently on a couple of the tables, she spent the next hour and a half on the arbor. Once complete, it nicely complemented the crushed lengths of white silk that marked out the aisle in lieu of ropes.
Megan walked over from where she’d been overseeing the placement of chairs. “Didn’t want to interrupt you while you looked so serious,” she teased.
Charlotte smiled. Megan had definitely mellowed since her marriage to Simon—she seemed far more at ease with herself these days. “What do you think?”
“Gorgeous as always. I wish I had your artistic ability.”
“I’ll leave you to it. I have to set up the flowers for the reception.”
“At least with you, I know the work will be superb. It’s the other idiots I have to worry about.”
Laughing, Charlotte hitched a ride on one of the carts going back and forth from the estate house to the winery grounds. As she ran up the four steps into a house which had always intimidated her, she kept an eye out for Alexandre. However, he didn’t make an appearance.
Feeling oddly deflated when she finished at around 10:00 a.m., she hopped on her bike, having had it brought up on one of the carts. A sleek black Ferrari purred down the estate drive as she was about to take off.
Curious about the occupant, she took her time pushing off her kickstand and arranging her small backpack. Though she wasn’t a woman impressed by material possessions, she was human enough to appreciate the sleek lines of a car that looked like a crouching hunting cat.
To her surprise, the car changed direction and circled around the reflecting pool to head straight for her, stopping inches from her bike. Scowling, she wondered if she’d have to fend off the advances of some playboy guest who’d arrived early.
Then the door opened and a man who looked even more like a predator than his car, stepped out. “Ma chérie, do not tell me you have been here all morning?”
“Yes, setting up for the Harrington wedding.” She wanted to ask him where he’d been but her throat closed up as he neared her, his big hands going to her own. Startled, she let him pick them up, balancing herself using her feet.
“You’re scratched,” he accused.
She laughed. “Happens all the time. Flowers are pretty but they do occasionally have thorns.”
“Take better care of yourself.” It was a command.
“Alexandre,” she began, intending on telling him to stop with the orders. After the way he’d kissed her so tenderly last night, after the precious words he’d given her, she was no longer tongue-tied in his presence. This man wanted to hear what she had to say.
Lifting her hand to his lips, he kissed one long, angry scratch. “I like that.” He began to nibble teasingly on her knuckles.
She wanted to moan. “What?”
“My name on your lips.” The way he was staring at those lips made her want to go up in flames.
“I have to go.” She didn’t know why she’d said that, when she’d planned this day off weeks in advance. Maybe she wasn’t completely over being tongue-tied in his presence.
“Do you have time for dinner with me, Charlotte?” He was all sexy male appeal, deep masculine dimples creasing his cheeks.
Her heart melted. “You’re too charming for your own good.”
He didn’t laugh as she expected. Instead, that coaxing smile faded. “Charm is not all I am.”
The fleeting darkness in his eyes took her mind back to their other meetings. Alexandre, she realized, always kept a distance between himself and the rest of the world. He was so charming, she didn’t think most people ever noticed that he never revealed his emotions.
But she’d noticed because she was the same. She didn’t trust easily. Walker was the only person who was close to her. She adored her elder brother despite her concern about his loyalty to a man like Spencer, but even he didn’t know her innermost thoughts and feelings.
Knowing how alone it could feel to hurt inside where no one could see, she ached to soothe the scars hidden beneath Alexandre’s sophisticated elegance. Would he ever trust her enough to share his secrets?
Would she one day trust him enough to share her own?
“Dinner? Yes, I’m free,” she found herself saying, taking a chance on this man who’d so suddenly, so quickly, touched her in the most well-guarded part of herself.
“I’ll come by for you at nine.” He released her hands, which he’d been gently stroking the whole time they’d been talking, creating havoc with her senses.
Her eyes widened. “Isn’t that a bit late?”
He grimaced. “I’ll be closeted with your winemaking staff and then with Trace. Can you wait?”
That he wanted her company that much was something she couldn’t resist. “I’ll ride up here to meet you.”
> “It will be dark.” His brows gathered.
“It’s safe.” Watching Lilah had taught Charlotte that women who let men have all the say in a relationship ended up doormats. No matter how beautiful and pampered a life she lived, Lilah was Spencer’s puppet. When he jerked, she moved. “I’ll meet you by your car at nine.”
Still scowling, he muttered something dark in French. “Yes, I think my maman would like you very much, ma petite.”
She wondered what he meant by that. “You’re very busy.”
“Never too busy for you.” A small smile flirting with his lips, he laid a final kiss on the pulse of her wrist. “Until tonight, my lovely, luscious Charlotte.” He grinned at her uncontrollable blush. “Definitely luscious.”
Alexandre watched Charlotte ride off, his eyes on her sweet body but his mind on her dreams.
Lover Mine,
Do you know what I’d like tonight?
I’d like to be taken on a picnic in the moonlight, under the spreading branches of some majestic tree. I’d like to be treated like a treasure—adored with your eyes, seduced by your flattery, kissed by the touch of your fingers on mine.
I want you to take my hand and dance with me to the music of the leaves in the swaying trees, not a word said between us that isn’t a murmur of desire, a temptation of the senses.
But, nothing more.
I want you to give me this moment of romance without asking for anything physical in return. Just my company. And my smile.
Alexandre smiled throughout the day, accompanied by thoughts of Charlotte. She believed that her longing for romance would be a hardship for a man. In truth, charming her in the moonlight would be his distinct pleasure.
Some men didn’t understand the value of loveplay, the delight that came from romancing the woman you adored. Alexandre had never been that kind of man. Not even as a youth had he rushed.
He’d always known that seducing a woman’s body wasn’t enough. A good lover gave just as much attention to his woman’s mind, her heart and her soul. He’d always known that but never before had he paid it such heed.