The French Aristocrat's Baby

by Christina Hollis

  ‘I’d rather you left your staff to deal with that side of things. As I said, I’ve got something far more interesting on offer for you, Gwen.’ He paused. ‘I was going to wait till tomorrow, so that I could have all the financial documents for you to look at, but I want to offer you a business proposition—nothing more. I have visited Le Rossignol often enough to know that your restaurant would benefit from serious investment, and I have been thoroughly impressed by what this place has to offer.’

  Gwen’s mouth fell open. ‘Are you offering me money again?’ she said faintly.

  ‘Not in that way!’ He laughed. ‘This would be a strictly business arrangement, binding on both sides. I don’t waste money, Gwen. You have made your feelings clear earlier, and now I’m making mine clear. I’d like to invest in Le Rossignol.’

  If anyone needed financial help, it was Gwen. Etienne Moreau was clearly more than just sex on legs. He knew how to use all his attributes to the best effect, and not simply his body. She was tempted instantly. How could she not be? This might be a solution to all her problems. Her first reaction was to reach out and hug him. She stopped herself just in time. This was just business! Any kind of physical contact with him might push her over that precipice of temptation again. Instead, she pressed her hands to her cheeks in delight.

  ‘Etienne…are you really sure you want to do this?’

  ‘I’ve told you—when it comes to my best interests I look to the future, rather than dwelling on the past.’

  Gwen let her breath go in a great gasp.

  ‘Wait until you see my offer before you commit yourself,’ he warned, but his smile had a playful twinkle she had never noticed before.

  Gwen’s world was spinning. A few bittersweet hours ago this man had stripped her of all her inhibitions. She wasn’t going to show him how he could still affect every fibre of her being.

  Gwen set off early for work next morning. Her car’s interior was already baking. She was so distracted by thoughts of her meeting with Etienne, she started fiddling with its air-conditioning straight away. It hadn’t worked for months, but within seconds a cool breeze was rippling around the car. Etienne had worked a miracle. But then her core temperature began to rise. It looked as if she would have to fight on several fronts to stop him filling her mind completely, but he was proving to be as useful as he was charming. She smiled. Lounging around on a yacht while he talked business sounded close to heaven. She would have to keep her professional hat jammed well down over her eyes to stop the seductive Monsieur Moreau feeding her emotional candyfloss. She was going to make this work! He’d respected her decision not to become his mistress, and now he was treating her like a professional.

  She impressed on everyone that she was determined to take the afternoon off, for once. It worked like magic. Lunch was cleared away in record time. After that, all she had to do was wait for the car Etienne had promised. That was the worst part. Each time she checked the time, the hands of her watch had hardly moved. Desperate that no one should see who was picking her up from work, Gwen let her staff leave early. Only minutes after she let the last one out the back door, a chauffeur arrived at the front.

  Suddenly her whole body was alight with fear. What would happen when she was alone with Etienne again—on a yacht?

  Slinging her bag over her shoulder, she strode out into the sunlight. She wasn’t carrying much, but it gave her something to do with her hands. It was hard to look confident when her nerves were stretched to breaking point. The chauffeur swung the car door open for her. She was faintly alarmed to find Etienne seated inside. This was a test, but it wasn’t as worrying as it might have been. She had been scared of making a fool of herself by trying the wrong door, or failing to get it open. Now she could step inside with confidence.

  ‘You were ready and waiting?’ He sounded impressed.

  Gwen relaxed a little more. This might not be such an ordeal after all, she thought, trying to forget the last of her fears. She settled back in the expensively fragrant seat.

  ‘Of course. How long is this meeting likely to take?’ she said briskly. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Etienne raise his eyebrows.

  ‘That depends—although as you’ve already broken my rule about answering back, the prospects don’t look good.’ He shot a sideways glance at her—full of mischief.

  Gwen steeled her resolve and ignored his teasing. ‘Why don’t you outline your idea to me now? That would save time. It’s a shame we didn’t discuss it fully yesterday in my office, as I suggested.’

  ‘No, it isn’t. That’s your workplace. People are in and out all the time, asking questions and dragging you away at irregular intervals. If I took you to a rival establishment for lunch you’d spend more time dissecting their menu than listening to me. Also, I have the yacht—why not mix business with pleasure and take you out to sea?’

  Gwen gave him a calculating look. ‘As long as you aren’t taking me for a ride as well.’

  A familiar wicked smile spread over his face. ‘Oh, no,’ he said, adding after a suggestive pause, ‘Not this time.’

  There was hardly any time to enjoy the sensation of riding in Etienne’s luxurious car. In only a few minutes it drew to a halt outside the Hotel Splendide and the chauffeur leapt out to help her from the car.

  ‘You’ve changed your plans already, Etienne? I didn’t think you’d really take me onto your yacht, but this makes up for it!’ She gazed up at the magnificent building, trying to take in every aspect of the luxurious hotel and its hordes of uniformed staff.

  ‘Make the most of it. We’re not staying here. There’s a helicopter waiting for us on the roof.’

  Gwen was horrified. ‘Etienne! You can’t just walk through a place like this and expect to use their helicopter!’

  He was dismissive. ‘Of course I can. It’s my hotel, and my helicopter. The Windflower is moored offshore, well away from prying eyes and long lenses.’

  They were wafted up to the roof in an elevator that was as silent as it was smooth. Etienne escorted her out onto the roof. Gwen was nervous as the pilot helped her into her seat and fastened the seat belt. Nothing like this had ever happened to her before. However, after a moment of fear as they lifted off, she slowly began to relax. The bustle of the world below faded away as they zoomed towards the sea. She had no sooner decided she liked the sensation of flying in a helicopter than they began circling in to land on the deck of an enormous ocean-going yacht, moored far out in the bay.

  ‘I didn’t think it was possible for your eyes to get any bigger, Gwen!’ Etienne smiled. He moved as though he was about to lay his hand on her shoulder, but pulled it away at the last moment.

  ‘It’s enormous—and so beautiful!’ She sighed, gazing down into the perfect blue of the on-board pool. ‘However much must it have cost?’

  It would have been an obvious comment to make to any of her friends from the valley back at home, but the worst sort of social gaffe in the circumstances. Her hands flew to her mouth.

  ‘Oh, Etienne, how rude was that! I’m so sorry!’

  He chuckled indulgently. ‘Don’t be. Your honesty sends a real breath of fresh air through my life, Gwen. Any other woman would have pretended to be gazing into my eyes while her mind calculated my net worth. Business associates would assume it was leased. The truth is The Windflower is all mine. But when it comes to how much she costs—well…’ he gave another of his characteristic shrugs ‘…it would be rude to discuss it. As I’ve told you before, I value my privacy highly. When I discovered that there are a thousand tiny, uninhabited tropical islands scattered around the world, it was a challenge I couldn’t resist. I contacted a designer and asked him to build me a vessel that provided sevenstar accommodation. He did the work, all I did was sign the cheques. Whatever she cost, she’s worth every cent. Whenever I get some free time, I head out to sea. For those occasions when my companion doesn’t feel like sharing a hammock slung between two palm trees, I can whisk them back to my ship on the launch or b
y helicopter, depending how far out she’s moored. As a floating pleasure palace, she’s invaluable.’

  As he spoke he leaned across her, so close she could feel the warmth of his face next to hers. A mad impulse made her want to kiss his cheek, but she resisted. He kept his eyes resolutely fixed on his beautiful yacht, but Gwen guessed he was waiting for her to make a move. He was so sure of himself, it made her even more determined not to let herself be swept away by the rip tide of her desire. The half-smile sculpting his beautiful mouth dared her to go back on her word and give in to his every temptation. After stalking out of his house in such fury, she couldn’t possibly back down. She drew in one long, slow, lingering breath. It was filled with the high notes of his cedar-fragranced aftershave. That was delicious enough, but beneath it simmered the warmer, darker temptations of vital maleness.

  ‘I’ll bet your lifetime list of islands has a column for women, too,’ she murmured, finding it hard to sound sarcastic when he was so very close.

  ‘It’s a hobby,’ he said with a mischievous grin.

  The helicopter drifted into land exactly on the target painted in the middle of its upper deck. As the rotors slowed to a halt a long procession of Etienne’s domestic staff emerged. They greeted her with smiles as he introduced each of them by name. Gwen had been nervous. Now she felt much more relaxed as Etienne showed her down from the deck. The contrast between hot bright sunshine and the cool silence of the luxurious living conditions was like chilled champagne.

  ‘This is lovely,’ she sighed. Her sleeveless T-shirt was no protection against the midday sun. She was glad of the cold kiss of air-conditioning on the tender pink skin of her shoulders. ‘It’s even better than your hotel.’

  ‘I should hope so. And this is only the offices and boardrooms. The suites are situated where they get the best views.’

  Everything had a brand-new sheen about it. Gwen wanted to run her fingers over the polished, turned wood of handrails or the sleek chrome and glass fittings. Each time they passed an open door, she couldn’t resist peeking in. Etienne clearly did a lot of entertaining. There were several lounges and public areas, all decorated with restrained good taste. Everything had the look of money well spent—a lot of money. The only thing the place lacked was people.

  ‘Where is everyone? You’ve got dozens of staff on here—I’ve seen them. Where are they now?’

  ‘In a ship this size it is easy to disappear. That’s why I like it so much.’ He ran his hand along a polished rosewood rail. Gwen saw real pride in his movements, and satisfaction in his smile. ‘I can slip away from the largest party, and everyone will assume I’m merely circulating in some other part of the yacht.’

  ‘It sounds like you enjoy socialising about as much as I do,’ she joked.

  ‘No, I hate it.’

  He was deadly serious. So was Gwen.

  ‘Snap.’

  ‘I can’t believe that.’ His expression eased, as though the ice had been broken and he was glad neither of them had fallen through. ‘You were born to entertain, Gwen, if anyone ever was.’

  His voice was like satin now. With blinding insight, Gwen knew he was calling to mind the way she had pleased him in bed. Her mind filled with unforgettable images, too, but she wasn’t going to fall under his spell again. Her first experience had given him the impression she was his mistress for the asking, and that made her wary. She wasn’t going to let him take advantage of her so easily this time. Her self-esteem depended on it.

  ‘Your staff didn’t turn a hair when you introduced me. I suppose they’re used to you bringing an endless procession of women on board,’ she said, reminding herself that spectacular skills like his weren’t honed over one night, or even a thousand.

  Etienne had an easy answer. ‘The reason for that is simple. They know you’re here on business.’

  Gwen laughed. ‘When their boss has your taste for the ladies? The staff here must have seen a thousand different ones. I’ll bet they’re all discussing exactly what sort of “business” we’re up to right now!’

  ‘Gwen!’ Etienne looked shocked as he showed her into a boardroom and flipped the sign outside to ‘In Conference’. ‘They wouldn’t dream of it, if they wanted to keep their jobs. I hope you don’t allow that sort of gossip in your kitchens at Le Rossignol!’

  ‘Of course I don’t. My staff don’t have time to look up from their work. Nattering about anything is right out of the question.’

  Trying to forget all the gossip she had heard about the Countess Sophie’s plans for Etienne, she followed close behind him. He led the way into a light, airy room furnished with high-tech screens and projectors. A long, highly polished table stood in the centre, surrounded by chairs. A crystal carafe of iced water and two glasses stood beside a blotting pad placed at the head of the table. Gwen also noticed a small collection of official-looking documents. Etienne strode towards his place and pulled out the grand carved chair nearest it. He gestured for her to sit down. As she did he poured a glass of water and placed it on a coaster beside her.

  ‘I thought you would be too sensible to allow chit-chat to distract your staff. It’s another sign of a good businesswoman. The other night I saw how much you hate to disappoint your customers.’

  That wicked smile was dancing around his handsome mouth again. Gwen stared at him, willing herself not to blush. It didn’t work.

  Taking his seat at the head of the table, he opened the file that lay on top of the pile before him. She watched his eyes scan the first page, wishing he would look at her. When he did, she was unprepared for the effect it would have. Her blush returned with increasing heat. The urge to move in her seat with the memory of squirming beneath his hands fired her with a desire she knew she could never risk tasting again.

  ‘It’s true: any visitor to Le Rossignol can be sure their privacy will be respected,’ Gwen said, trying to settle herself. Despite everything, the amusement in his eyes was infectious. Her façade of disapproval cracked with a smile, but she was determined to keep this business meeting on track. ‘Any secret is totally safe with me.’

  ‘I knew it would be. That’s good. I’d prefer our discussions here today to remain confidential,’ he said, and then dropped his voice to a seductive whisper. Leaning forward, he smiled at her with a warmth that threatened to melt the core of her resistance.

  ‘The fact is, I’m hoping to make you an offer you can’t refuse, Gwen Williams.’

  Her eyes widened with alarm. If he was making a move on her, she would be powerless to resist. They were miles out to sea. There could be no escape this time. Terrified he would trample all over her feelings again, Gwen knew she must resist. She also knew it would be far too great a test of her will power. Her body was urging her to stay, and melt into his arms again. It was left to her mind to try and save her self-respect. Dropping her hands flat on the boardroom table, she tried to spring to her feet. Quickly, Etienne dropped his hand over hers. It was a heavy, decisive movement with no trace of seduction or romance. She froze, and looked into his eyes. They were glowing, but with nothing more than cold reason.

  ‘Relax! I’ve told you before. It isn’t that sort of offer, Gwen.’

  Slowly, she sank back into her seat. His message was received and understood. She looked down at her reflection in the mirror-like sheen of the boardroom table. For some time Etienne didn’t move a muscle. Then slowly he withdrew his hand, dragging his slightly roughened palm across the smooth, delicate skin of her fingers. Picking up his pen, he switched his attention to a report on his blotter. While Gwen waited in silence, he made some notes. The sound of his gold nib inscribed the silence. When it seemed he had forgotten her, she lifted her palms slowly from the table, ready to put them in her lap. She was mortified to see they left prints behind on the polished surface. They lasted only as long as the pressure of his hand had done on her skin. His memory of our night together must have vanished in the same way, she thought.

  Etienne continued to study the open file bef
ore him. When he sensed she had settled again, he looked up from his notes. His expression had all the integrity of jet. It combined beauty and inescapable darkness in one irresistible look.

  ‘I’ll come straight to the point, Gwen. I need to broaden my investment portfolio. The hospitality industry is exactly the type of diversification I need. Le Rossignol has been my favourite restaurant from the moment Nick bought it. I’ve since discovered its success is entirely due to your flair in the kitchen. I’d hate to see it close through lack of working capital. That’s why I want to inject some money into your business.’ He paused minutely as Gwen opened her mouth to interrupt. The look on his face dared her to disagree. Taking her cue from his expression, she said nothing, but smiled instead.

  Etienne looked back at his notes and reconsidered. Clearing his throat, he rephrased his last words. ‘I want to ensure I can dine there whenever I like, safe in the knowledge that you are going to be the hostess and head of the kitchen. In short, Le Rossignol needs money, and I have plenty of it. Funds would be the only thing on offer—it’s no good expecting me to lend a hand with the washing-up,’ he coaxed her with a smile.

  Gwen tried to respond, but she could barely form a reply. ‘If you know so much about the money side, I’m amazed you aren’t ready to employ someone for little details like that,’ she said faintly.

  ‘Talking about the work is the extent of my skill in the kitchen,’ he replied with dry humour. ‘That’s why you will remain in complete control. I’ve had my experts draw up a legal document—this is your copy.’ He closed the file he had been working on and slid it across the table to her. ‘Where they’ve been too pompous I’ve added a few footnotes so that you and I both know exactly what they mean.’

  Gwen stared at the orange file as though it were a snake ready to strike. How could anyone put money into a business without wanting to control it?

  ‘Th-thank you, Etienne. That’s very kind of you,’ she said slowly, hoping she really could believe that. She had been brought up by hard-nosed business people. She knew what business life did to people, and couldn’t bear to think of Etienne being similarly underhand. ‘But I have to ask—what’s in this for you?’