Gastien: From Dream to Destiny: A Caddy Rowland Historical Family Saga/Drama (The Gastien Series Book 2)

by Caddy Rowland

  Women loved it when he dressed bizarre. They seemed to be even more attracted to him when he was. Perhaps they thought he might be gay and wanted to see if they were woman enough to change him. That was fine with him. It gave him even more sex partners to choose from. If they thought they were special and had some power over him, great, as long as they gave him entrance. He dressed simply about half of the time, and the other half he experimented. It was also a way of thumbing his nose at his father, who would have shat his trousers had he seen his son in capris carrying a small tote over his shoulder, sporting a gold hoop earring, and hair halfway to his ass.

  A few men had made the mistake of calling him feminine, catcalling to him when he walked by. Once they picked themselves up off the street and went to their dentist to get a few loose teeth pulled, it was quickly decided Gastien was not feminine after all. The locals knew he wasn’t, it was visiting bourgeois and gentry who at first made that mistake. Word got around quickly that not only was the long haired man that dressed flamboyantly not feminine, he had a powerful punch to prove it. Soon men kept their mouths shut. It irked them, though, that women paid more attention to Gastien than to them. They could never quite figure out that they looked boring and unimaginative in their dress, while Gastien’s style promised experimentation in other areas.

  Other artist’s dressed oddly, too. Although part of it was self expression, an awful lot of it had to do with poverty. They grabbed whatever they could cheaply. Even in poverty, artists do have a sense of style, so Gastien did not stick out as badly in Montmartre or certain parts of Paris as he would have elsewhere.

  His favorite place to hang out was Au Lapin Agile. It seemed that any night he could find groups of artists there: laughing, talking, drinking, getting high, and sometimes fighting. Most often when he went out he either started out or ended up there. When it was nice weather there was an outside area for the café, but the singing and hard drinking happened inside. In a back room, drug use, sex with a willing woman, many things happened. Gastien went in that room many times to get high, but did not partake in the sex. He had no desire to put his bite inside someone who had likely just been with another man.

  One spring night, he and Mic were eating outside there. Gastien was enjoying a whiskey while Mic was drinking vin. It was crowded with groups from all walks of life. All of a sudden there was a loud crash a couple of tables down. Gastien turned to see that a server had just dropped a tray full of drinks on the cobblestones. The men at the table were laughing. The tiny waitress looked horrified. Her eyes filled with tears as she stood rooted to the spot, the embarrassment climbing from her neck to her face.

  Sophie

  I

  As Gastien looked at her all sound and motion stopped. She was new, he had not seen her there before; and she definitely did not fit in. Mon Dieu, she had the biggest, most expressive eyes he had ever seen! They were a greenish gold, and – her hair! It was a riot of curls that sprang out every which way, refusing to be tamed into any sense of style. She wore it loose with the curls ending slightly below her shoulders, framing her small face with a halo of browns and golds. He wondered how she ever managed to get a brush through that hair. What was a woman so obviously out of place doing serving at Au Lapin Agile?

  She was so little! He had never seen such a petite looking female who could at the same time look so womanly. And that mouth! Just the sight of it made him start to become hard. The lips were ripe, wild berries waiting to be plucked. She licked her lips in fear, and Gastien’s heart jumped in his chest. She was sunshine; she was a violent summer thunderstorm, a gentle spring rain. She was nature in all of its beautiful, wild glory. He blinked. Surely she was not real. His heart was hammering.

  Feeling lightheaded, Gastien decided that it had to be the whiskey. He recognized the group at the table she was serving as some artists he knew. As he watched, one of the men reached out and brushed his hand across her breast. A tear fell down her face. Before he knew it, Gastien was out of his chair and into the man’s face.

  “Leave her alone, Phillipe! Can’t you see that she is scared? Just leave her alone!”

  Phillipe stared at Gastien, shocked. What was it to him? She was just a serving girl. They came on to servers all of the time.

  “Gastien, come on! Calm down. If she can’t take a little flirting she does not belong here!” Phillipe laughed.

  Gastien, however, did not. “I said to leave her alone! You were not flirting. You rubbed your hand against her breast. Apologize!” He looked murderous. The girl just stood there, staring up at Gastien.

  “Oh come on, Gastien…you of all people – ”

  “APOLOGIZE!”

  Phillipe saw how angry Gastien was, and had no wish to fight him.

  “Jeeezzus. Ok.” He looked at the girl. “I am sorry.” She nodded mutely.

  Gastien hissed, “Don’t ever touch her again!” He bent to help her pick up the broken glasses.

  “It is ok, Monsieur, it is my job, I will get it,” she said quickly, bending down to get the glasses.

  Her voice! It was like music. Gastien stared. He could not look away.

  “I said I will get it,” she said again.

  “Non, non, I will help. Oh, look! Now you have cut your finger!” Gastien said softly. “Go get it taken care of. Here comes another server to clean things up. By the way, what is your name?”

  She stared into his eyes, sucking her cut finger.

  “Sophie. It is Sophie. And yours is Gastien?”

  Staring at that finger, with those ripe lips wrapped around it, Gastien found that he was hardly able to enunciate.

  “Oui.”

  Mon Dieu, he thought, she has no idea what she is doing to me.

  She smiled shyly. “Gastien, merci for stepping in for me. I am afraid I am not used to serving yet. Merci beaucoup for asking him to apologize.”

  “Oui. You, um, you should go take care of me. I mean, it.” Now Gastien was red. How could I say something so stupid, he thought. She must think I am a complete dolt!

  Sophie reached out, tucking back a few strands of hair that had gotten in his eyes. Then she turned and walked away.

  Phillipe and the others were enjoying the spectacle.

  “Gastien, why don’t you just fuck her and get it over with, so we can all relax?” Phillipe asked casually.

  That was usually what Gastien would have done, after all.

  All of a sudden, Phillipe was on the ground, his chair overturned. As he held his hand to his chin, Gastien glowered above him.

  “Don’t ever talk like that about her again. Do you understand?”

  The whole area was quiet. “Oui, fine; but what is she to you, anyway?

  Gastien turned red. “Nothing. She is nothing to me at all! I just don’t like to see someone so obviously uncomfortable made sport of.”

  Phillipe just continued to look at him.

  “I said she is nothing to me, just drop it!” Gastien walked back to Mic and threw enough money on the table to cover their food and drink. “Let’s go.”

  As Gastien hurried out, he turned to look back at her one last time. Sophie was already inside. Not realizing how close he was to a tree, he quickly turned his head forward and walked right into it! Oh Sweet Jesus, he thought, as he turned an even darker shade of red than he had been earlier. Just let me die now!

  He hurried away, the men’s laughter ringing in his ears.

  Mic looked helplessly back at Phillipe, shrugging his shoulders. Phillipe smiled, pointing to his heart and then his groin. It appeared that their ami Gastien was finally going to fall.

  And all indications showed he would be falling hard.

  II

  As for Sophie, she was shaken. She needed to get her composure. Sophie had not seen him walk into the tree.

  Gastien. The name played over and over in her head. When she had looked into those huge, brown eyes she was instantly captivated. Her head told her non! Not an artist! You need to think about security! But h
er heart quietly stated, “this has always been the one. You just had not met yet.”

  He reminded her of a panther, moving with a confidence and grace that spoke of a hunter stalking prey. The gold flecks in his eyes flashed dangerously when he had demanded an apology on her behalf. They glittered with a hardness that left no doubt that he would get what he wanted.

  And yet, when he looked at her, that hardness died. Gazing into his eyes, she had felt like she was falling into the warm depths of soft, dark brown suede. Those dangerous eyes had changed to sadness, held a longing; yet spoke of quick humor and wit. She was mesmerized looking into those eyes. Embarrassed, she had fought to pull her gaze away from his. What had he thought, her standing there staring at him like an idiot?

  She knew from those eyes, that mouth, and the way he carried himself that he was confident in his sensuality. No doubt he used that sensuality to get what he wanted from a woman and moved on.

  A man like that expected a woman who also knew her way around the boudoir[33]; a woman who would know how to please him back. The way he moved, the sound of his voice…everything about him promised that he was a man not lacking in experience.

  What made it appealing was that he did not put it on. His sexiness was a natural part of him. She doubted he even realized how overpowering his sexuality was.

  Gastien.

  Gastien.

  The name, the face, the voice, all seared into her mind. She held onto a counter inside, forcing herself to calm down. Picking up her tray and the new drinks, she walked back outside, promising herself not to look for him.

  He was gone.

  She was surprised with how disappointed she was; how that disappointment hurt. It is just as well, she told herself. You are nothing like what he looks for in a woman. You would seem like a child in his eyes. Still, she felt like crying when she realized he really was no longer there.

  Phillipe watched her look around and smiled to himself. It looked like Gastien may not be the only one falling. Strange…she was unlike anyone he had ever seen Gastien with.

  Phillipe knew of Gastien’s reputation, his penchant for the fancy wives and daughters of the wealthy. If he was attracted to silk and perfume, elegance and sophistication, what in the world did he see in the little server? Her hair was untamed, her body so little. It spoke nothing of elegance or expertise between satin sheets.

  Non, she looked like she would be a ride in a wild windstorm. She would know nothing about how to channel that passion into pleasures a man would appreciate. Ah, well. If anyone could ride her, it would probably be Gastien. But why would he want to, when he had smoother to choose from? She was cute, sure; even quite pretty. Regardless, she was definitely not glamorous.

  It would be good to see Gastien smitten for once, though. Gastien was so cynical about love. He always seemed to hold a certain distain when one of his amis fell. It would give him a taste of reality to see how strongly falling in love could challenge convictions.

  Phillipe smiled at the girl.

  “Did you say your name was Sophie?” he asked gently.

  She looked at him in surprise. She did not expect him to be kind after being forced to apologize.

  “Oui, I am Sophie,” she said quietly.

  “Well, Sophie, don’t look so disappointed. He comes here all of the time. You will see him again soon enough.”

  Sophie’s face flamed red. “I don’t know what you are talking about! I am disappointed that I am failing as a server that is all.”

  Phillipe chuckled. “Ah, Sophie! It is almost as obvious on you as it was on him.”

  She jerked her face back to his in surprise.

  Then she said, “If you are talking about that man, that Gastien, I want to tell you that you are mistaken. I am not his type, I am sure.”

  “Is he your type?” Phillipe questioned.

  Her face turned even redder, and she turned to walk away. Phillipe put his hand on her tray.

  “Sophie, I am just saying, I know Gastien quite well. He is interested, or he would not have stood up for you. Be careful, though. He is no novice in regard to women. I would wager that about half of the wealthier children born in Paris in the last four years have a good chance of him being their father. They just won’t know it, because the mother is someone else’s wife.”

  She turned on him then, saying heatedly, “What a cruel thing to say about someone you call an ami! I am sure he would not appreciate you spreading rumors about him in his absence!”

  Phillipe laughed, but not unkindly. “On the contrary! He would confirm it. Gastien is not a liar. He owns up to what he does. Hell, most of us would like to be in his shoes! There is no shame in it, for a man. I am just saying if you decide to play, you need to know the player.

  “Well, merci for the warning. I am sure he has as little interest in me as I do him.”

  Sophie hurried away. Mon Dieu, she thought, he sleeps with the wives of wealthy men? She could really pick ‘em couldn’t she? What chance did she have against women like that? She promised herself to forget about him.

  Gastien.

  Gastien.

  The name refused to go away.

  III

  As Mic and Gastien walked home, Mic glanced over at his ami. He was unsure if he should even bring up the subject.

  Finally he said, “That was a nice thing you did back at the restaurant.”

  Gastien snorted. “I doubt Phillipe feels that way. I hit him fairly hard.”

  “Still, to stand up for a woman you want is a chivalrous thing to do,” Mic persisted.

  “I don’t want her! Merde, what is wrong with everyone? Just because I feel sorry for someone obviously inept does not mean I am interested. It does not mean anything at all, I simply defended her. She is not my type.”

  Gastien knew his words sounded as false as they felt on his tongue.

  “Really? Because I think she was interested in you, too. Perhaps I can’t see so well, I don’t know.”

  “Well, if she is interested, that is her problem. She should not make a big deal out of me defending her.”

  Mic smiled knowingly.

  Gastien glared. He snapped, “I have no use for an untamed, unruly looking peasant who has about as much experience as a twelve-year-old! No matter how big her eyes are or how ripe those lips looked!”

  Mic continued to look at him, grinning. “You sure noticed a lot of detail for a man having no interest!”

  Gastien blushed. Then he protested, “I am an artist! I paint portraits! Or course I notice the details of people!”

  “Fine. You aren’t interested,” Mic said holding up his hands. “You sure acted interested enough when you walked into that tree!”

  “I wasn’t looking where I was going. That is all! Merde!”

  Mic persisted. “Oh, you were looking at where you are going all right. You just won’t admit that you are going there yet.”

  “Mic, back off!” Gastien warned.

  “Or what, you will hit me, too? That won’t change the fact that you are interested, ami.”

  Mic could not help himself. Gastien falling for someone was just too tempting.

  “Mon Dieu!! I don’t want to go into this! Leave me alone!”

  Gastien and Mic walked in silence for a minute.

  In spite of himself, Gastien continued, “She is not at all like the women I bed. Why would I be even mildly interested?”

  “You just answered that, Gaz. If you can’t figure that out yet, then I am sure clarity will come soon enough. You are crazy about her! You are just too scared to admit it.”

  “Fous le camp!” Gastien growled.

  Mic put his arm around Gastien.

  “Love is a kick in the ass, Gaz. Get used to it.”

  Mic handed Gastien the hash he had lit. Saying nothing, and refusing to meet Mic’s eyes, Gastien took a good, long hit.

  Once home, Gastien started going inside his studio. At the last second, he turned to look at Mic, panic in his eyes.

 
; “Fils de pute! Ah, Mic…Je suis foutue!”

  Mic just smiled. “Exactly. Welcome to my world.”

  Laughing to himself, Mic went upstairs.

  IV

  Gastien went to bed, hoping to escape through sleep. Refusing to cooperate, sleep eluded him. Whenever he closed his eyes the scene at Au Lapin Agile replayed in his mind. He could not believe how shook up she had made him! What was wrong with him? She was just a female, and not a very alluring one at that.

  He corrected himself. Oui, she was alluring; but not in the way most of the women he desired were. She was cute, very pretty…but in a different way. Then he realized what it was. Compared to the others, she was fresh air. Every detail of Sophie was vivid. He could taste those lips. He could feel them on his, could sense their tenderness as his teeth grabbed and gently pulled while he sucked.

  Covers thrown off, he lay in bed sweating and cursing to himself. He had never, NEVER wanted a woman the way he wanted her! He pounded the pillow with his fist in frustration. Oddly enough, as badly as he ached for her, he found himself thinking more of her face and hair than of things he would like to do with her body.

  “Foutre! I am acting like a school boy with his first crush!” he muttered scornfully.

  What on earth was wrong with him? He remembered how he had told her to “go take care of me” instead of her cut finger. And how he had walked into that tree. Sweet Jesus! He hoped she had not seen that from inside! She already thought he was incapable of forming a sentence. There was no need to add “clumsy oaf” to his charms.

  What did he care anyway? It was obvious she was inexperienced. He was not in the business of breaking in virgins. Nor did he need a peasant girl in his bed. She would be just like the others. Needy. Hoping to drain him of all of his creativity, so that she could domesticate him.