"I told you before: Claudia doesn't allow people to smoke in her apartment," he enunciated each word slowly and carefully.
Marcheline opened her mouth, then closed it abruptly, apparently having second thoughts about going head to head with Andrew on the matter smoking indoors.
She rounded on him, in full attack mode.
"Are you so naïve as to think Claudia is the right woman for you?" she asked incredulously. "She's not good enough for someone like you. You are from two different worlds!"
"Gates really did a number on you, didn't he? He's called you trash so many times that you believe it, don't you? Let me tell you something. There's more to life than money and pedigrees. You've spent your whole life rubbing up against rich men and what has it gotten you? You've used people -- what has it gotten you? You're a desperate woman, whose stock in trade is no good anymore. Your marriage is over, your beauty is fading, Marcheline and you've got nothing!" Andrew hammered the final nail in the coffin.
Marcheline drew back in shock, "How dare you! You have no right to judge me. You and Claudia might just be perfect for one another -- your high horses are the same height!"
"It's not a judgment, Marcheline. You've used her since the day she was born. She was your meal-ticket, not your daughter."
"Claudia is a lucky girl; I gave her everything!"
"Oh, really? Is every girl lucky enough to get the gift of being molested by one of her mother's perverted lovers? How about a young girl being so lucky that she gets trotted out like a trick pony to serve drinks and hors d'oeuvres to the men her mother is fucking for money? Should she feel lucky that her mother absolutely delighted in telling her how worthless she is? I think you're right Marcheline, she wasso lucky to have been brought up in such a wholesome environment!" he finished sarcastically.
"I don't know what you are talking about! Claudia has a tendency to see things in the worst way possible. What you described never happened!"
"Having spent a few very informative minutes with you, I know who I believe. At any rate, I don't have time to argue with you; I've got a plane to catch. I can drop you at one of the hotels at the airport, if you'd like. They're sometimes a bit cheaper if not quite as nice as the ones in town," Andrew said, going to the closet to retrieve Marcheline's hat and coat.
"I will not stay at a dingy airport hotel!" she objected hotly.
"Suit yourself, but you're not staying here either," he plopped her fur hat crookedly atop her head and steered her to the door. Marcheline spluttered ineffectually, tried to fight against Andrew's forward momentum.
"You can't do this -- you have no right! This is my daughter's home -- not yours! And what is between me and my daughter is none of your business!"
Andrew opened the door, gently pushed her out of it and handed her her coat. He stepped back inside and grabbed her luggage, put it on the landing next to her.
"I am making it my business to see that you never hurt Claudia again," Andrew said. "That means seeing that she doesn't come home to a house that reeks of cigarette smoke and to find that her privacy has been violated or that she's been stolen from."
"You bastard. You will not get away with treating me this way," Marcheline was flustered, short of breath.
"I'm shaking in my boots," Andrew said dismissively, going back into the apartment. "Wait there."
He went down the hall to Claudia's office and opened the top drawer of her desk. He withdrew her leather-bound address book and found Marie-Josée's Paris address and phone numbers. He entered the information into his BlackBerry and put her book back where he had found it.
He rejoined Marcheline on the landing and locked the door to the apartment. He took the larger pieces of luggage and started down the stairs without a word to her, leaving her to carry one medium-sized bag and a hefty-looking makeup case. Marcheline clattered down behind him muttering Creole curses under her breath. It wasn't lost on Andrew that the proper little 'lady' could get as down and dirty with her language as any common street whore. Andrew knocked on Mrs H's door.
"Hi. I just wanted to let you know that Marcheline has decided to stay at a hotel. She doesn't agree with Claudia's smoking policy."
"I thought I smelled smoke coming from up there!" Mrs. H said with open disapprobation.
Marcheline huffed and rolled her eyes. Andrew thought he heard her say something about meddling old biddies under her breath.
"I'm going to keep the key to Claudia's apartment, Mrs. H, just to ensure that you won't be exposed to any awkward situations that might arise," he said with a speaking glance at Marcheline, nipping in the bud the possibility that she might return and somehow manipulate Mrs. H into letting her back into Claudia's apartment.
"Oh, I see. By all means, keep it!" Mrs. H said, nervously gripping the strand of pearls she always wore. Underneath his outward politesse, Andrew was clearly angry. Mrs. H had never seen him in anything other than a good mood and she was disconcerted by the thinly veiled menace he projected.
At that, Marcheline huffed and stormed out of the building. Andrew followed with her luggage.
"Which hotel will it be?"
"The Ritz."
"It's not the Ritz anymore, it's called the Taj now. Do you still want to go?"
"Whatever. I don't care what it's called," she gritted out.
He loaded her bags and drove her the few blocks to the hotel. The valet opened her door and Marcheline stepped out of the car without a word and stalked into the hotel in a swirl of dark fur. Andrew popped the trunk and the bellman removed her bags from the car and loaded them on a brass luggage rack. Andrew idled the car for a moment, shaking his head in amazement, wondering who would wind up paying for her stay at the hotel. Probably Gates, he smirked, the two of them were welcome to each other.
He understood Claudia's idiosyncrasies a lot better after meeting Marcheline in person; she was worse than he could have ever imagined. He was more in love with Claudia for the fact that she had survived, even flourished, with parents like Gates and Marcheline. Looking at the dashboard clock, he realized he had just enough time to clear airport security and make his flight to Paris. Another few hours, he thought with anticipation, and he'd be that much closer to having her back for good.
*****
Claudia went to bed early and lay awake in the darkness, exhausted, enervated but unable to sleep. She longed for Andrew, missed him with a ferocity that surprised her. She hadn't realized until that moment that he had gotten so completely under her skin. Reflexively, she cursed herself for having relaxed her guard, for having allowed herself to feel, to hope.
Still, she wondered if Marie-Josée was right. Had she mistaken Andrew's reaction? Had she been so convinced that he would recoil from her, horrified by what she told him, that she had only been able to see what she had been expecting to see? She didn't know, couldn't recall the events clearly, and couldn't examine them objectively.
But what if she had misjudged him? What she had told him clearly would have come as a shock to him. If she viewed things from his perspective, she had to admit that discovering that she was Gates's biological daughter would be difficult to digest. She groaned softly when she thought of how vicious she must have sounded when she had attacked him, assaulted him. She had gone on the offensive without giving him a chance to really absorb what she had told him.
Dare she harbor hope that he wasn't disgusted and fed up with her, that she had misunderstood him? She conceded that even if that was the case, she had made a big mistake by leaving town. If he hadn't been angry with her before, he must certainly be now. With all the negative things she had said to him, both the day before and since they had been involved, about the viability of their relationship, she honestly couldn't blame him if he gave up on her. The knowledge that she had possibly thrown away her only chance at happiness stabbed into her. Cynically, she thought that the misery she felt was nothing more than what she deserved. She had botched things up royally.
Her train of thought was broken whe
n the front door to the apartment opened. Claudia tensed where she lay, her senses heightened. She heard someone moving with surety through the darkness, his or her footsteps muffled by the thick carpet on the floor, the quiet swish of clothing the only sound. Claudia stole out of bed and peered through the cracked door of her room. Through the gloom, she made out the figure of a man. Tall, thin and dressed in a dark overcoat, he slipped into her cousin's bedroom. Her heart thudded with terror as she wondered if she could call the police and perhaps improvise some sort of weapon to use in subduing him without betraying her presence.
She grabbed one of the decorative walking sticks, one of the many items Marie-Josée collected, from the stand in the corner and was in the hallway outside of Marie-Josée's room when she heard her cousin murmur a sleepy greeting to the prowler who apparently wasn't a prowler. She heard what sounded like clothing being removed and dropped to the floor. Marie-Josee was speaking, but her voice was so low that Claudia couldn't make out what she said. What surprised her was the softness, the affection, that warmed her cousin's voice as she spoke to the man. She heard the sound of sheets rustling, the quiet groan of the mattress springs as Marie-Josee's lover joined her in bed. Marie-Josée giggled suddenly and the man cautioned her, Shhhhhh.
Claudia knew she should return to bed, to allow the couple their privacy. She didn't. She stood in the dark of the hallway outside her cousin's room, listening, hearing the intimate sounds of lovers reunited. The moist sounds of open-mouthed kisses, soft sighs and the rustling of bedclothes. She heard the quickening of the lovers' breathing even as she felt the atmosphere grow tense, thick, with sexual need.
More shifting about, then the sound of a muffled moan, a greedily whispered, Oh, yes. Whatever was happening in the room so absorbed the participants that they forgot that their liaison was to be kept silent. Their voices came louder, more urgently now. Claudia heard wet sucking sounds and Marie-Josee's lover whispered huskily, That's it, take my cock in your mouth. A hot twist of desire curled low in Claudia's belly and she placed her hand there, not knowing whether she sought to still or preserve the feeling. She knew what her cousin must be feeling: the arousing sense of power that walked hand in hand with the supplication that was required when one pleasured his or her lover orally.
There was a juicy popping sound as the suction between lips and cock was broken. Claudia heard her cousin's teasing, husky laugh. She heard them shifting again and she imagined they had repositioned themselves to fuck, wondered which pose they would have chosen. Him on top, her on top, doggie-style? Or had they adjusted themselves to facilitate soixante-neuf?
She ceased to wonder when she heard Marie-Josee's sharp gasp, then the rhythmic melding of flesh as they began to move. She couldn't see them, but had the distinct impression that her cousin and her mystery lover were far beyond a casual relationship. She sensed that each of them was very knowledgeable about what would best please the other; there had been no awkward fumbling and they had slid easily, immediately, into a matching cadence as they began to fuck.
Claudia listened, growing feverish, as passion overtook the couple. They whispered lurid words of love and sex amidst their torrid lovemaking; words that clearly spurred them on, made them burn hotter and brighter. Marie-Josée broke first, letting loose a guttural moan, then a chorus of Yes, yes, yes... Her secret lover was swept along with her and he thrust two, three, four, five more times, grunting with each thrust until finally he stilled with a muffled roar.
Claudia's heart was racing as she recalled how Andrew always looked at the moment of climax, saw in her mind's eye the transparent joy that was always on his face, mixed with the pleasurable agony of a soul-wrenching orgasm. Andrew gave himself over unstintingly when they made love. She hoped Marie-Josée was equally blessed and would wish her the best at the first opportunity, despite the fact that Marie-Josée hadn't told her that she was involved with anyone at all. Interesting, Claudia thought distractedly, wonder what she's hiding?
The lovers had subsided, crooning to and soothing one another. Claudia's mouth dropped open when she heard the man say, Je t'adore, chérie, je t'aime. She was further shocked when Marie-Josee replied, Moi aussi, mon chér. Je t'aime aussi. As she had suspected, this man and her cousin were not casual lovers.
Creeping silently back to her room, Claudia marveled over the ease with which her cousin had said the words. I love you. Three simple words that tangled in her mind and in her throat when she contemplated the saying of them. As she curled up in her solitary bed, she regretted that she'd never given Andrew the gift of the words. She turned toward the wall and whispered with heartbreaking feeling, "I love you, Andrew"and hoped that, somehow, the universe would deliver the message to him where he lay in his own bed across the ocean.
Chapter Ten
Claudia had slept poorly and was grateful when the sky outside turned pearly gray with the light of dawn. She got out of bed and dressed quickly in her running clothes. It felt good to be up and about after a night of tossing and turning; at some point during the night, the bed had begun to feel like a prison. Had she been in her own home, she would have gotten out of bed and found something to occupy her mind until she felt sleepy again. She had been loathe to do that while visiting Marie-Josée, especially in light of the mystery lover she had discovered stealing into her cousin's room.
She crept out of the apartment and once on the street, began to warm up with a brisk walk. The streets were free of traffic, the only people about were street cleaners and shop owners going to work baking bread and pastries, readying their stores for the morning's influx of customers. She walked down Rue des Pyramides, crossed Rue de Rivoli and entered Jardin des Tuileries where she began to jog.
It felt good to move after several days of no activity. Though the morning was misty and chilly, Claudia was enjoying her run. As she ran through the garden, she blanked her mind, purposely steering her thoughts away from Andrew. For Claudia, running was akin to meditation; she had learned to focus her mind on her body and how it felt as she put it through the paces. When she was successful, she felt oddly rested, calm and peaceful afterwards.
Leaving the garden, she ran down the Avenue des Champs Élysées toward the Arc de Triomphe. The store window displays along the way glittered with glamour and opulence; she found herself window-shopping. She relaxed her focus on the meditative run and her mind wandered. Its journey was short and led directly to the one subject she had purposely avoided thinking about: Andrew.
She couldn't help but wonder what he had been doing to pass the time since she had left. She hoped that he missed her at least a little bit and that he had had trouble finding 'normal' without her. She certainly hadn't felt normal. Her world seemed a few shades dimmer without him in it; even Paris, her favorite place on the planet, had lost its luster.
Her mindset vis à vis Andrew had changed this morning. She had begun to entertain the idea that she might try to convince him to continue their relationship when she got back to Boston. She hoped to persuade him that they could endure the strain that had been placed on them by the Patrick Gates quagmire if they were smart about it. She would promise to keep her feelings about Gates to herself and that she would never force Andrew to choose between her or Gates. She would advise him to compartmentalize his life: her in one section, his family, including Gates, in another. She knew it would be difficult for them both, but the alternative seemed worse. Not being with him in any capacity would be more awful than bore thinking about.
She was unaccustomed to being the person appealing to another for a second chance. Usually, she was the one who created distance in relationships, distance that left the other person feeling unsettled. Andrew had been in just that position for most of their time together and he had always pursued her and urged her to see that they had something special. Now it was her turn. She hoped that he had not forgotten the very persuasive arguments he had presented; it would be much easier for her to win him back if he remembered how hopeful he had previously been.
It would not be easy for her to follow through on her plan. Objective as always, even when she would be shown in a bad light, she knew that her pride would take a heavy blow. But I would rather lose face than lose Andrew, she told herself. If the way she had felt the last couple of days was any indication, she would be miserable without him. Maybe the hurt would fade in time, but she knew she would always want him. Anybody she met and became involved with would be compared to Andrew and, she was sure, be found wanting. Claudia just didn't think she would achieve anything close to happiness without Andrew.
Being with him, but set aside from his family would be difficult. She had liked his parents and his brother immensely and she was sure they had liked her equally as much. She acknowledged that it would be strange to be involved with Andrew but not see his family. They meant a lot to him. Staying away from them seemed the best thing to do, though, because who knew when Gates would show up? If Iain and Maggie were around, Andrew had told her, Gates and his wife were never far behind. So, the best thing to do would be to avoid seeing his parents. She would of course tell Andrew that he should feel free to spend time with them as he normally would, that she would gladly occupy herself with something else when he visited them.
The one thing that would complicate her self-imposed prohibition on mingling with his family would be children. Claudia didn't know what would happen if they married and had children. She was certain that she wanted a child with Andrew somewhere down the line and he had once told her that children were a part of his vision of the future, too. She knew that Maggie and Iain would be enthusiastic, doting grandparents. She also knew that she would have a hard time with being excluded from family events that Andrew and their child attended.
She shoved the thought from her mind. She was getting way ahead of herself. She needed to talk to Andrew first, see if he would even be willing to resume seeing her. If he agreed to her terms, she would gladly adhere to the rules she had put in force. Not being part of every aspect of Andrew's life would be a sacrifice, but she would take what she could get. Claudia hoped -- prayed -- that he would see the reason behind her plan and that he still thought she was worthy of his affection.
The Seduction Of Claudia Page 22