by Abby Green
Now Nessa stood in her bathrobe on the small terrace outside the French doors, and pushed everything out of her head but this glorious magical view. Dusk was claiming the skies and the lights of the Eiffel Tower were just beginning to twinkle to life. As if someone had been waiting especially for her.
Nessa smiled and realised with a pang that it had been a long time since she’d felt such uncomplicated happiness. The minute she thought that, though, the smile slid off her face. How could she be feeling happy when her brother was still probably worried sick at the thought of ever showing his face again?
She’d tried calling him earlier but his phone had been off, as it was every other time she’d tried. And her other brother, Eoin, was equally hard to track down.
Just then there was a light knock on the main bedroom door. Nessa’s heart was pounding at the thought that it might be Luc, but when she opened the door, it was the housekeeper with two other women. Nessa breathed out.
‘Mr Barbier has arranged for these ladies to help you get ready for this evening.’
Nessa forced a smile, the thought of the function making her feel slightly ill. Dublin was one thing. This was Paris. She would definitely need help. ‘Thank you, Lucille.’
As the women set to work, Nessa tried to block out the insidious thought of all the other women Luc had had in this exact same spot, being preened especially for him.
* * *
‘Luc, it’s PR gold. They love her. The fact that she’s so naturally talented makes her even more interesting. There hasn’t been a buzz like this about a female jockey in years. The press have also discovered her family connection to Sheikh Nadim and his wife so now there’s even more heat. Invitations are flooding in—you’re officially accepted into the inner sanctum now. How does it feel?’
How did it feel? The conversation he’d just had with Pascal on the phone replayed in his head, as did that question. How did it feel to finally be experiencing a measure of the acceptance and respect he’d long since craved?
Curiously anticlimactic, if Luc was brutally honest. Even this view, which took in an exclusive slice of glittering Paris, left him feeling a little hollow.
Just then he heard a noise and turned around to see Nessa in the doorway of the room. And his heart stopped. She’d been beautiful before but now she was...stunning.
She wore a long, shimmering green gown. She was covered up from neck to toe and it had long sleeves, but it hugged every delicate curve of her body, highlighting her lithe sensuality. Her hair was up in a chignon and she wore simple diamonds in her ears.
She walked into the room looking nervous. ‘I’m ready to go.’
There was a quality to her this evening that made her seem very vulnerable. Luc could tell how out of her depth she was, and he felt a very alien need to say something to reassure her.
Far too gruffly he said, ‘You look very beautiful, Nessa.’
As she blushed and smoothed the dress at her hip, he noticed the slight tremor in her hand and it tugged on something very raw inside him. This woman could ride and master a thoroughbred horse, and yet this made her tremble?
‘I’m not beautiful. You don’t have to say that.’
He closed the distance between them in two long strides and tipped up her chin, searching her eyes. ‘If you were anyone else I’d say you’re fishing for compliments, but I think you really mean it. Who ever made you believe that?’
She pulled her chin free. ‘Growing up with two brothers makes it hard to explore your feminine side, and our mother died when I was eight, so I never really had that influence.’
‘What about your older sister, Iseult?’
Nessa shrugged. ‘She was a tomboy too. And she was always so busy.’
Luc tried to contain his surprise. He’d never known a beautiful woman to not make the most of her assets, until now. Nessa was all the more refreshing for it. He felt in serious danger of taking her by the hand and leading her back to the bedroom to undo all that pristine hair and make-up. He felt unmoored.
He stepped back. ‘We should go. The driver will be waiting for us.’
As they descended in the lift Nessa found it hard to douse the ball of warmth Luc’s words had created in her chest. He thought she was beautiful. She knew he wasn’t a man to make empty compliments, and for the first time in her life she actually felt something close to beautiful.
She took deep breaths to quell her nerves and tried not to be too aware of Luc in the small space. But he took up so much of it, effortlessly.
Their eyes met in the mirror of the door and any benefits of the calm breathing Nessa had been doing were gone in an instant. His eyes were like molten black pools, and there was a gleam so explicit that she couldn’t breathe.
Everything tightened inside her and she wished she knew how to react in this situation. She could imagine that his other lovers—the ones who had also chosen dresses from the vast array he had—would turn to him now and twine their arms around his neck and say something sultry and confident.
They would take control. They might even press the Stop button and initiate an X-rated moment. Maybe he was waiting for her to do that? Overcome with insecurity, mixed with arousal, Nessa gabbled the first thing that came into her head. ‘It was lucky that you’re so prepared for your...er...women friends. There were a lot of dresses to choose from.’
His brows snapped into a frown at the same time as the doors opened. She stepped out and he took her arm, stopping her in her tracks. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
Nessa felt inevitable heat climb up from her chest to her face and cursed her colouring and lack of sophistication. ‘The clothes in the dressing room. You obviously keep it stocked so your lovers aren’t caught short.’
‘Those clothes were for you. I had a stylist deliver them before we arrived. I don’t entertain women at my apartment and I certainly don’t keep a ready supply of clothes for them.’
Nessa was momentarily speechless. There was also a very dangerous fluttering feeling near her heart. He didn’t entertain women at his apartment and yet she was here. She finally managed to get out one word. ‘Oh.’
Luc looked grim, as if he’d just realised the significance of that too. He said nothing but just propelled her towards the entrance where the car and driver were waiting.
The journey to the hotel where the function was being held was taken in silence. Nessa was afraid of what else might come out of her mouth, so she kept it shut and drank in the view of Paris as they swept through the streets.
She had to remind herself that whatever overwhelming intensity she was feeling for Luc, it wasn’t remotely the same for him. He was interested in her for a relatively brief moment, for some bizarre, unknown reason. If she hadn’t burst into his life in such dramatic fashion out of a desire to protect her brother, there was no way she would have ever been sitting in the back of his car, dressed in a gown worth more than her annual income.
The sooner she kept reminding herself of that, the better. Because once Paddy sorted out this issue of the missing money, Nessa had no doubt she would be out of Luc Barbier’s life so fast her head would be spinning.
* * *
A few hours later, Nessa was waiting for Luc in the foyer of the hotel. He was a couple of feet away, conducting a conversation with a man who had just stopped him. Nessa was glad of the brief respite. Luc had been right by her side all evening and she’d been embarrassingly aware of him, and even more acutely aware of every tiny moment he’d touched the base of her back or her arm.
Just then an accented voice said close to her ear, ‘Isn’t he the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen?’
Nessa jumped and looked around to see an older but carefully preserved woman with blonde hair, her blue eyes fixated on Luc. There was something about the nakedly hungry gleam in her gaze that sent a shiver through Nessa.
‘I’m sorry, do I know you?’
The women dragged her gaze off Luc and looked Nessa up and down disparagingly. �
��You’re this new jockey they’re all talking about, I gather.’ Her eyes narrowed. ‘You’re sleeping with him, aren’t you?’
Nessa flushed. ‘I don’t think that’s any of your—’
But the women grabbed her arm in an almost painful grip. She hissed at Nessa, ‘He won’t be tamed, you know. A magnificent beast like him will never be tamed.’
Nessa pulled her arm free and looked at the woman, feeling a hot surge of anger and something far more ambiguous. A fierce protectiveness. ‘He’s not an animal. He’s a man.’
‘Celeste. What a pleasure.’
Nessa’s head whipped around to see Luc right behind her, looking sterner than she’d ever seen him, his glaze so black it was obsidian. Clearly it wasn’t a pleasure.
The woman all but thrust Nessa out of the way and stepped close to Luc. ‘Darling...it’s been so long.’ She laid a hand on his arm and a wave of revulsion went through Nessa to see the long red nails. It made her think of blood.
Luc picked off her hand and took Nessa by the arm, pulling her back beside him. ‘Good evening, Celeste.’
He turned and they walked out. Nessa resisted the urge to look back at the woman. She had to be one of Luc’s ex-lovers, but the thought of him with her made Nessa’s stomach roil.
* * *
The car pulled away from the kerb and Luc reeled. He didn’t like how it had made him feel to hear Nessa speak those words to that woman. He’s not an animal. She’d looked ferocious, disgusted on his behalf. She’d had a similar expression on her face when she’d defended her brother so vociferously when they first met.
It impacted Luc in a very visceral way to think of Nessa standing up for him. He didn’t need any of that.
He looked at her now and she was pale. His voice was harsh. ‘You didn’t need to say that. I can fight my own battles.’
She looked at him. ‘She was talking about you as if you’re not even human. How could you have ever been with her? She’s awful.’
Luc felt disgust move through him. ‘We were never lovers, even though she did everything in her power to seduce me. She’s Leo Fouret’s wife. I found her naked in my bed one night and she threatened to accuse me of rape if I refused to sleep with her. That’s why I had to leave the stables. Leo Fouret knew what she was like and he offered to pay me off to leave and say nothing. I refused his money but I did take a horse.’
And why the hell had he just let all of that slip out? He didn’t owe Nessa any explanations.
Nessa said slowly, ‘That’s why you reacted the way you did when you found me in your room.’
She continued, ‘I’m sorry I opened my mouth but I couldn’t help myself. You’re not just some object.’
No one had ever jumped to Luc’s defence before. A disturbing warmth curled through his gut. His anger was draining away. He said, ‘In the end she actually did me a favour. If I hadn’t had to leave Fouret’s stables I might still be working there. That horse became my fortune.’
Nessa shook her head. ‘I don’t think so. I think you would have always made your fortune.’
Luc looked at her intently. ‘You’re like a fierce tigress.’
Nessa’s cheeks got hot. She didn’t know how to respond to that. She regretted letting that woman get to her, but the relief she felt to know that he hadn’t been intimate with Celeste was almost overwhelming.
A thousand more questions were on Nessa’s lips but then Luc said, ‘You did well this evening.’
Nessa shrugged slightly, embarrassed. ‘I felt like a bit of a fraud, to be honest. A couple of well-run races does not merit all that attention.’
Luc shook his head. ‘You have a natural ability that anyone can see from a million miles away, and you’re a beautiful young woman. It’s quite a combination.’
She smiled wryly. ‘I’ve been riding in races for a few years now and no one has ever commented before. I think the fact that I’m riding for you is the key. People are fascinated by whatever you do.’
Luc’s jaw tightened. ‘Fascinated in that way that drivers are when they pass a crash and have to look at the carnage.’
Nessa instinctively wanted to deny that but she knew he wasn’t saying it for effect or sympathy. She’d seen how the guests had looked at him all evening. And no wonder, with that woman in their midst. It had to be exhausting, constantly having to prove himself.
Afraid he might see too much on her face, Nessa looked out of the window. They were driving along the Seine and Nessa noticed all the amorous couples. It tugged on a yearning inside her.
She couldn’t imagine Luc stopping the car and taking her by the hand to walk along the Seine, and it shook her to realise she’d even thought of that. Whatever was between them wasn’t about romance or emotions or love. But even as Nessa thought of that word, love, her heart pounded unevenly and she felt cold and clammy. Sick.
Oh, God. She was falling for him.
‘Have you ever been to Paris before?’
Nessa jumped at his question and looked at him. She wasn’t in love with him. She couldn’t be. She forced down the panic she was feeling, assuring herself that the romance of Paris had infected her brain momentarily.
She said, ‘Only once, a long time ago, on a school trip. I always wanted to come back some day—I’ve never seen anywhere more beautiful.’
Luc’s gaze narrowed on Nessa’s face. She’d been a million miles away just now, gazing wistfully out of the window.
His body was in an agony of sexual frustration after an evening standing by her side as countless people, mainly men, he’d noticed, had come and stared as if they’d never seen a woman before. He’d had to control the urge to snarl at everyone so he could pull Nessa into a quiet corner and muss up that far too tidy chignon and peel that dress from her luscious body.
And even though all he wanted right now was to drive straight to his apartment so he could do just that, he found himself leaning forward and instructing his driver to take a small detour.
Nessa looked at him when they came to a stop a few minutes later, after climbing the winding narrow streets as far as they could go in the car. ‘Where are we?’ she asked.
Luc was already regretting the impetuous decision even as he said, ‘Montmartre. Come on, I want to show you something.’
He got out of the car and came around to help her out. Her hand slipped into his, and he had to grit his jaw at the surge of desire even that small, chaste touch provoked.
They walked the small distance up towards Sacre Coeur cathedral. It was late but there were still small knots of people milling around. Luc opened his bow tie and the top button of his shirt. He noticed Nessa shiver slightly in the cool evening air. He took off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders and she looked at him. ‘Oh, thank you.’
They came around a corner and the full majesty of the iconic cathedral was revealed. Nessa stopped in her tracks. ‘Wow. I’d forgotten this existed. It’s so beautiful.’
‘You came here on your trip?’
Nessa nodded, her eyes gleaming. ‘Yes, but not like this. It’s magical.’
He led her around to the front and then down the steps to the lookout points. Nessa sucked in an audible breath. Paris was laid out before them like a glittering carpet of jewels.
Luc realised how long it had been since he’d been here.
‘This is stunning. Thank you.’
Luc was ridiculously pleased, which was ironic because over the years he’d presented women with far more tangible and expensive trinkets and had felt nothing when they’d expressed gratitude.
He gestured towards the view. ‘I used to come here when I was younger, around age ten, eleven. We’d come in from the flats during the summer, peak tourist season. We used to take advantage of people’s absorption with the view to pick their pockets, steal watches, that kind of thing.’
She turned to face him. His coat making her look even more petite, her hair a dramatic splash of red against the night sky.
‘Were you ever c
aught?’
He shook his head. ‘That’s why they sent us in at that age. We were small and fast, able to disappear in seconds.’
‘Who would send you in?’
‘The gangs, older kids. We’d bring the haul back to them and if we’d creamed anything off for ourselves they’d know immediately.’
‘So you grew up in the suburbs?’
Luc looked out over the city that had been witness to his single-minded ascent out of his grim circumstances. He nodded. ‘Where I grew up is about as far removed as you can get from this view. It was a basic existence in not very pretty surroundings. School was a joke and gang life on the streets was our education.’
He looked at her, expecting to see that gleam women got in their eyes when they spied an opening to invite further intimacies but she just looked at him steadily. ‘Is that when you got your scar?’
Luc’s insides clenched when he remembered the stinging pain. He nodded. ‘A rival gang surrounded me, and knives came out. I was lucky to escape with just a scar.’ That had been the moment he’d realised that if he didn’t get out, he might die.
‘You said before that you had no family—did you really have no one?’
Luc’s chest tightened. ‘My mother died of an overdose when I was sixteen, and my father appeared for the first and last time to get a handout once he saw that I had money. I had no brothers, no sisters. No aunts, uncles, or cousins. So, no, there was no one.’
‘Except for Pierre Fortin,’ Nessa said quietly.
The tightness in Luc’s chest increased. ‘Yes. Pierre saved me. He died shortly after I’d received the beating that led to the scar and I took his advice to get out and contact Leo Fouret. If I hadn’t done that, I think I might be dead by now.’
Nessa shivered at that. She could tell he wasn’t being melodramatic. ‘I’m sorry he’s gone.’ Her voice was husky.