Jean-Marc was unhurt and on his way home in the police limousine. When he stepped out in the cool morning sunlight, Alicia was waiting on the steps to meet him.
'Dominique's in hospital under police guard,' he told her wearily, striding up to her and bending his dark head for a kiss. 'Pierre is with her. He ought to be treated for shock himself. He was in a bad state.'
'How was Dominique?' Alicia followed him as he strode into the hall. 'The police rang, told me she was bruised. How badly... ?'
'A black eye,' Jean-Marc said flatly. 'And cuts on her face. She tried to escape twice, apparently.'
'What a brave girl,' Alicia said huskily. 'I don't think I would have had the courage to do that in her position.'
'It was idiotic of her,' he said flatly, then with a harsh sigh, 'But very brave.'
Alicia saw the tired lines around his mouth. 'Do you want some coffee? Something to eat?'
'I just want to go straight to sleep,' he said, running a hand through his black hair.
'Of course,' she said, smiling gently.
'Alicia.' His hand slid to her wrist. 'I don't want to sleep alone.'
Her heart missed a beat.
'I'm too tired to make love to you.' His grey eyes rested on hers. 'I just need to hold you. Will you sleep with me?'
She thought of the ordeal he had just been through, and then her voice said softly, 'Yes, Jean-Marc,' and he stared at her for a second, then gave a cool nod and began to lead her up the stairs. She tried to go into her room as they passed it, saying she had to get her nightdress, but he shook his head, pulling her away, saying,
'I bought you a new one in New York.' They reached his bedroom door, and he opened it. 'I was going to give it to you as a present when I got back. Of course, I didn't get round to it.'
The bedroom was vast, fit for a king, with a carved oak four-poster hung with dark burgundy curtains. The walls were carved oak, too, with the Brissac crest worked into them. The windows were hung with long floor-length heavy curtains.
Jean-Marc strode to the curtains, drew them, shutting out the light. The bedroom was pitch-black until he walked to the bed, bent to flick on the bedside lamp.
Alicia closed the door; her heart thumping. Dry-mouthed, she stared at him, acutely aware that they were finally here, in his bedroom, and that she was about to sleep with him. She believed him when he said he was too tired to make love to her. But nevertheless...
'Here.' Jean-Marc took a large white-gold box from his vast oak wardrobe and handed it to her. 'You can put it on in the bathroom. Through there.'
'Thank you,' Alicia said huskily, and moved towards the open bathroom door.
'I'm just going to ring Switzerland,' Jean-Marc told her wearily as she left. 'Cancel that money order. I'll be in bed when you come back, so turn out the light for me, would you?' He slumped down on the bed, picked up the telephone.
Alicia closed the bathroom door. Her heart was fluttering with nerves. She opened the white box, and caught her breath at the beauty of the long scarlet nightdress. Stripping off her clothes, she laid them carefully in the box and closed the lid, then washed and cleaned her teeth before slipping the red silk and lace nightdress on.
Alicia felt so nervous that she hesitated, dry-mouthed and heart palpitating, before she opened the bathroom door and went back into the dimly lit bedroom.
Jean-Marc was fast asleep.
A smile curved her mouth as she tiptoed to the bed and gazed down at him. His mouth was slightly parted as he breathed, his face exhausted, and his broad bare chest and arms were flung out as he lay on his back, wearing nothing but black pyjama trousers.
Alicia tucked him in, slid into bed beside him, and flicked off the light. As she lay close to him, she realised her own deep excitement, and a wry smile curved her mouth as she recognised her disappointment, too.
But within minutes she was fast asleep, too.
While they slept, their bodies met and his arms came around her in unconscious possession. Alicia's face was cradled against his warm chest, and he slept with one long leg flung over hers.
It was seven o'clock at night when they both woke up. Jean-Marc woke first, and when he began to kiss her warm white throat she stirred, her eyes flickering open.
He sensed her wakening, and drew his dark head back to look into her eyes. There was a warm, intimate silence between them, their bodies relaxed and refreshed in the big oak bed, the duvet cradling them as if they were birds in a nest.
'Good morning,' Jean-Marc said deeply, and his grey eyes smiled.
Alicia's hands were warm, splayed on his broad chest. 'What time is it?'
'Nineteen-fifteen!' he said softly. 'My body clock is totally out of sync. How about yours?'
'I lost control of it a long time ago.'
His lashes flickered, he was looking at her full warm mouth, and suddenly the atmosphere tilted as their hearts began to beat in deep thudding unison.
'We're in bed together,' Jean-Marc said under his breath.
Dry-mouthed, she stared at him. 'I know.'
Slowly, taking his time, he lowered his head and when his mouth met hers she opened to him, kissing him back with that slow, unhurried sensuality, feeling the blood begin to move around her body as the sweet, drugging power of love took hold on her.
His hands slid through her hair. Alicia moved her fingers up over his broad, hair-roughened chest, up to his strong throat and into his hair, and the kiss deepened as Jean-Marc's mouth grew more demanding, his eyes closed as tightly as hers, pushing her deeper into the pillows, his arms around her.
It seemed so natural to feel his breathing quicken, to feel those strong hands slide over her bare shoulders, fingering the silky straps of the red nightdress, and when they slid over her full, warm breasts Alicia shivered with a soft moan, arching unconsciously towards him. ;
The kiss deepened further. His fingers were sliding the bodice aside, baring her breast, and her erect nipples shivered with pulsing excitement as he stroked them, and the hot torture of his kisses made her dizzy with sensation, exchanging love by mouth, her eyes closed and her tongue merging with his, feeling the hard thigh moving slowly, restlessly between hers.
When he started to pull down the red silk nightdress, his heart was thundering as he stroked it to her slender waist, his mouth possessive on hers, and as he stroked it down over her naked hips Alicia started to shake with deep agonising excitement, her whole body trembling in his arms as he slid the nightdress off and found her naked.
'Mon Dieu...!' he whispered hoarsely, sliding his hands over her bare thighs, his heart hammering. 'Je te desire! Cherie.. .je t'adore...' His mouth closed over hers in a passionate, demanding kiss.
Alicia moaned against his mouth, her breathing hectic and her body flushed with pink colour as arousal spiralled inside her, a tense clutch of agonising tension in the centre of her stomach, her naked thighs brushing against the black pyjama trousers he wore, gasping as she felt the fierce pulsation of his male hardness pressing against her.
'Alicia!' he said raggedly, stroking her breasts. 'I want you! I want to take you... will you fight me, my darling?'
'No...' Alicia looked into his hard, handsome face, her mouth quivering and her inhibitions obliterated by love, knowing that he needed the release lovemaking would bring him, and that she could not deny it to him after the ordeals of the last forty-eight hours. 'No, Jean-Marc... I won't fight you!'
He caught his breath, staring at her. There was a long, tense silence. She could hear his heart beating as he lay against her, and suddenly his mouth hardened. 'Why won't you fight me, Alicia?' he asked under his breath. 'Because my ring is on your finger? Because you feel safe, knowing I will marry you?'
Frowning, she said huskily, 'No...'
'Then why?' His grey eyes were angry. 'I've just asked you to make love with me. But I've asked plenty of times before. What makes this time different?' His mouth went white. 'The Brissac sapphire?'
'No!' She stared up at his ha
rd face. 'You've just been through an ordeal and I --'
'And you are a martyr?' He gave a harsh laugh. 'I think not!'
'Does it matter why I won't fight you?' she asked, hurt and beginning to feel angry.
He looked at her, his eyes furious. 'Yes!' he bit out. 'It matters very much to me!'
'But why?' she demanded, dark eyes flashing. 'I thought it was what you wanted! I thought it was what you needed!'
'It is what I want!' he said harshly. 'And what I need! But Alicia, if I wanted an accommodating wife to submit to marital duties, I could have had my pick of the beauties of Europe!' His eyes flared. 'I want a passionate woman in my bed who wants me—not some pretty blue bauble on her finger and the promise of matrimony!'
She caught her breath, fury in her eyes. 'You don't need to explain, Jean-Marc! I can see only too clearly why you suddenly don't feel like taking what I've so foolishly offered!' Her voice rose, shaking with emotion. 'You moved mountains to get me here in your bed, and now that I've finally given in you suddenly feel bored by the whole idea!'
'It's not like that!' he bit out forcefully, grey eyes flashing with rage. 'Don't be such a --'
'Don't add insults to your list of crimes!' Her mouth shook with violent emotion, and she tore the ring from her finger, shouting hoarsely, 'There! There's your Brissac sapphire! Take it and give it to the next girl! I won't hold you to your "promise"!'
'I don't want the damned thing!' He was suddenly very still, staring at her, his heartbeat unsteady. 'Put it back on your finger!'
'No!' she said, hot tears threatening to fall. 'Let me go!'
'Put the ring back on your finger!' he said thickly, dark colour filling his hard face. 'Do you hear me? Put the --'
'It's over, Jean-Marc!' she cried, a tear slipping over her cheek as her mouth trembled betrayingly. 'I was a fool ever to come back here! I knew you'd hurt me! I knew it would end with --'
'I didn't mean to hurt you,' he said under his breath. 'Now put the ring back on your finger and --'
'I can't,' she said bitterly, shaking her head. 'I can't marry you, Jean-Marc! Not feeling like this! I should have known better than to trust my own emotions.' She gave a pained laugh. 'I'd begun to kid myself that you wanted more than sex, more than just another mistress. Now I can see I was fooling myself, and it hurts too much, Jean-Marc, it just --'
'It won't last,' he said grimly, his face white as he held her. 'Now, calm down. Don't walk out just because I behaved like a fool. We'll marry, just as we planned, and you'll forget all about this.'
'No, Jean-Marc,' she whispered, staring at him, her eyes blazing with emotion. 'I won't forget about it. Not for a long, long time—maybe not forever.' She drew a shaky breath. 'I can't turn my feelings off once they're engaged. I know you can, but I can't.'
He tensed, staring at her, his eyes darting over her face. 'Your feelings... ?'
'What's the point of lying about it any more?' Alicia said, closing her eyes. 'You've made it clear from the beginning that you would never offer me love. I can't blame you if you stick to that.'
'Love isn't a possibility with me,' he said thickly, flicking his gaze away, his mouth a white line. 'I just can't...'
'I know,' she said with hoarse bitterness. 'But it was always a possibility with me, Jean-Marc! I didn't know it, and maybe neither did you, but it's happened, and I can't turn back the clock!' Her mouth shook as she said, 'I just fell in love with you somewhere along the line, and now I'm --'
'What?' His hands gripped her slim shoulders, grey eyes fierce as he stared down at her. 'Say that again, Alicia!'
She gave a bitter smile. 'I fell in love with you, Jean-Marc,' she said with a choke in her throat. 'I'm in love with you.'
'I fell in love with you the minute I saw your face!' Jean-Marc said unsteadily, staring at her. 'I can't believe we've wasted so much time! When did you realise?'
Stunned, she stared at him, her heart thudding crazily. 'I...' She couldn't speak, her mouth parted and her eyes wide as she stared up into his hard, handsome face.
'I'd given up hope!' Jean-Marc said thickly, and caught her in his arms, holding her close, his hand pushing her face into his strong neck as he stroked her hair.
'Jean-Marc...!' she whispered.
'I can't believe you didn't guess how I felt!' he said under his breath. 'Even when I asked you to marry me, you still believed me when I said I would never love you.' He gave a rough laugh, holding her close. 'It was incredible. I was actually putting the ring on your finger and talking about weddings and you still thought I only wanted your body!'
'You made me believe it!' she whispered, staring at his chest. 'You were so convincing! When you speak in that hard voice I really see the cynical tycoon in you, and he blinds me because I love that part of you as much as this...' Her hand stroked his throat, his dark hair. 'You're as tough as you are passionate.'
'And romantic,' he said with a wry twist of his hard mouth as he drew back to look at her. 'I always knew I'd hear bells ring when I fell in love, and I heard them that first day! I looked at you across the lawns at that stupid garden party, and felt a rush of adrenalin shoot through me like wildfire.'
'You felt it then... ?' she asked, incredulous.
'Le coup defoudre, cherie!' he said sardonically. 'And I was absolutely knocked for six. I asked who you were, and when they told me you were Alicia Holt, one of the most successful women in Europe, I thought, Yes, she would be, wouldn't she?' His hand stroked her hair as he continued speaking rapidly. 'I saw you go into the house, so as soon as I could I followed you. But you looked at me with such hatred, such rage. I couldn't move. I just stared back at you, thinking, This can't be happening. Doesn't she know how I feel? Then you walked past me, cut me dead, and I wanted to pull the house down around your ears.'
'I had no idea...' she said huskily against his throat.
'I hated you,' he said under his breath, 'but I couldn't stop thinking about you, and when I saw you at the Ritz that day I just went up in flames, watching you walk to the lifts with that man. My woman—and you didn't even notice me watching you. I was so violently angry, I blew a fuse, came to your room and deliberately insulted you.'
Alicia lay against his chest, staring at his skin, overwhelmed by what he was saying, love flooding her, making her heart beat with excitement as she recognised the truths he told.
'But when I saw you...' Jean-Marc went on thickly '... so soft and vulnerable and defenceless. No make-up, your hair loose and wet, your eyes staring at me with that obvious sexual fear...'
'I was shaking when you left,' she said huskily, looking up at him through her lashes. 'I remember it vividly. I could barely stand up.'
He laughed under his breath, kissing her mouth. 'My darling, that makes it all worthwhile, because I was shaking too. I wanted so badly to just kiss you until you fell to pieces in my hands, but you looked so vulnerable, and I couldn't bring myself to put you under attack in that state. So I went away and had another little think. But this time I thought about your relationship with David. I saw him in the bar, you see, and I realised how ordinary he was. How completely unlike you. He didn't fit in at the Ritz and he was aware of it. The only person he spoke to was the barman, and then he treated him as a friend. I watched him, and I began to realise what was going on between you. You were so at home there. So obviously accustomed to that lifestyle, and I knew for a fact that you had earned it, not inherited it. So I figured you must have come from a nice, ordinary family. And your powerful rise to prominence had left you straddling two worlds. David represented the old world, didn't he?'
'Yes...' she whispered against his chest, closing her eyes, weak with love.
'And that was why you wanted to marry him,' Jean-Marc said softly, lifting her face to look at him. 'Because he made you feel safe, even though he patently did not love or understand you.'
'He looked on me as someone from another planet,' she said huskily. 'I realised it in the end. But only because of your intervention
.'
'Is that how your family treated you?' he asked gently.
'Yes,' she said, eyes tracing his strong face. 'I guess I'm a throwback to another generation, because the rest of my family is and was very different from me.'
He nodded, smiling as he kissed her mouth. 'So was mine. The Brissacs have always been a family of dilettantes, cherie. I didn't fit in with that. I always wanted to race about putting rockets under banks and opening new ones all over the world.' He laughed, grey eyes gleaming. 'My father found me rather alarming, and my mother.. .well, she just used to shrug and say, "I can't think where he gets it from".'
Alicia laughed, pressing her face into his throat. 'My darling, I love you so much! I can't bear to think how nearly I lost you!' Her smile faded and she stared into his hard, handsome face. 'I only came back because of the kidnap. I was worried about Dominique, of course, but I knew you might need me, and --'
'And I would have come after you,' he said with a rueful grin. 'Pride or no pride. I knew you were everything I wanted by then, darling. I would have been tough and uncompromising and I would have cut my throat before telling you how I felt, but I would have got you back.'
Alicia's eyes shone with love. 'You're so determined...!'
'Yes,' he said softly, 'and so insanely in love with you.'
'Then,' she asked carefully, 'Isabelle Janvier really is not your mistress any more?'
'Isabelle hasn't been my mistress for months,' he said deeply. 'We split up because she was pushing for marriage, and I knew I couldn't marry her. I didn't love her, Alicia. I like her and see her as a really good friend. But she doesn't understand me. And she wasn't in love with me. She just wanted marriage.'
Alicia nodded. 'She's very beautiful, though. And very successful.'
Last of the Great French Lovers Page 14