Honeymoon in Paris

by Juliette Sobanet

  I plopped onto a bench facing the river, hung up my phone, and plunged my head into my hands. I adored my teaching job at the language school. How could this really be happening right now?

  Plus, with all of the financial ambiguity between me and Luc, the last thing I wanted to do was start off our marriage jobless and completely dependent on him for money. After witnessing my parents’ divorce and my mother’s subsequent undoing, I’d vowed I would never be dependent on a man. I would always have my own career, my own way to support myself. And despite Luc’s apparent savings from his days working in finance, he was still a professor with a young daughter, and potential future legal battles ahead of him with the One Who Shall Not Be Named.

  Thinking back to my conversation with Lexi the day before, an idea popped into my mind. It was a long shot, but I figured anything was worth a try. As I sat facing the banks of the sparkling river, I drafted a quick e-mail on my phone to a contact back in New York. Then I picked myself off the bench, took a deep breath, and headed home.

  It was time to tell my husband about my sudden lack of employment, deal with the tabloid mess, and find out why he never told me about his father going to prison. These were not exactly the topics I imagined we’d be discussing during our first week of marriage.

  ELEVEN

  Luc was comforting an extremely distraught Adeline when I walked into our little French apartment in the heart of Vieux Lyon.

  His bloodshot eyes were weary as he lifted them to mine. “Look, Adeline. Charlotte’s home,” he said in French as he swiveled his daughter’s tear-stained face in my direction.

  “Hi, sweetie.” I left my bags in a heap at the door and crossed the living room to where Luc was rubbing Adeline’s tiny back as she sobbed into his shoulder.

  My four-year-old step-daughter took one peek at me and cried even louder. “I want my mommy!” she howled in French.

  Luc raised a brow at me, exhaustion seeping through his pores. “It’s been an interesting day,” he whispered. “I’m going to put her down to sleep… then we can talk.”

  I watched as Luc carried his little, crying girl into her bedroom and closed the door behind them. Besides her tears and the desire to see her real mommy, the thermometer and bottle of medicine that sat on the kitchen counter proved to me that at least Luc hadn’t been lying about Adeline’s fever.

  Her cries grew softer as I quietly carried my bags back into our bedroom. But when I spotted a familiar French tabloid placed purposefully in the center of our bed, our honeymoon disaster and my girls’ night out with the Boucher brothers once again staring me in the face, I felt like I could cry myself.

  Obviously Luc didn’t live in a cave. I just thought that with Adeline being so sick, there was a slight chance he wouldn’t have gotten wind of this tabloid mess. And I certainly didn’t think he would’ve left the incriminating evidence on our marital bed, but then again, what did I expect him to do?

  So much for day six of supposed honeymoon bliss.

  I’d just finished unpacking when Luc joined me in the bedroom. He sat on the edge of our bed, ran a hand through his messy brown hair, and gazed up at me with a look of complete exasperation.

  “Is Adeline okay?” I asked, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I’ve never seen her like that before.” In the short month that I’d known Luc’s daughter, she’d never screamed for her mom, and she’d never turned away my comfort.

  “She barely slept last night, and her fever was still high this morning, so I took her to the doctor. It’s going down now, but she still doesn’t feel well, as you can see. There’s something else that’s upsetting her, though.”

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “Brigitte came over this morning.”

  My hand dropped from Luc’s shoulder as I sat across from him on the bed. “She was here? In our apartment?”

  Luc sighed. “Apparently she took the first train down from Paris this morning and decided she would show up on our doorstep unannounced. She claimed to be in town for work, and of course she wanted to see Adeline.”

  “Is she allowed to do that? She doesn’t have visitation rights, does she?”

  “Because of her past drug usage, she’s not allowed to be alone with Adeline. But, she can spend time with her if it’s supervised. And if she can prove to the courts that she’s clean now, after her apparent month in rehab—which I have yet to receive proof of—it’s possible that she could be granted regular visitation rights.”

  I tried not to sneer. “Do you believe she’s fit to watch Adeline on her own?”

  “Not as long as she has Vincent Boucher in her life. I told her as much this morning.”

  “I’m sure she loved that.”

  “Speaking of Vincent…” Luc nodded toward the magazine that had been lying between us on the bed, waiting to sabotage our brand-new marriage.

  “Looks like you’ve become more acquainted with both Vincent and his sons,” Luc stated dryly.

  “I suppose Brigitte gave you that little gift this morning?” I guessed. “The photos don’t exactly prove her newfound sobriety, do they?”

  “No, they don’t. But it is not so much Brigitte I am concerned with. It is my wife. What happened last night, Charlotte?”

  I gazed down at the magazine and felt like ripping it to shreds, but instead I took a deep breath and looked at my new husband, the man I loved, and proceeded to lay down the law.

  “I’m sorry about this, I really am. I clearly have some explaining to do. But so do you, Luc.” I reached over and placed my hand in Luc’s lap. “I promise I will tell you everything that happened last night, but in return, I need you to be honest with me too. We haven’t even been married for a full week, and I find out that your ex-wife is the Brigitte Beaumont, that she’s still in love with you, and that your father was in prison for embezzlement. It’s a lot to take in, especially when it’s not coming from your mouth.”

  “Which one of the Bouchers told you about my father?”

  “Well, Vincent started the story at the bar, and Nicolas continued it later that night. Is it true?” I asked.

  “Yes, back when I was in high school, my father and Vincent were in business together. My dad was found guilty of embezzlement and went to prison for a year. That is why my parents got divorced, and that’s when Vincent moved in on my mother.” Luc sounded annoyed, as if he’d repeated these exact words one hundred times before. My only question was: why hadn’t he said them to me?

  “The reason I agreed to talk with Nicolas inside his car yesterday is because he said he had something really important to ask me,” I said. “He wanted to know if I could put you in touch with him.”

  Luc’s jaw tightened before he spoke. “The ties between our families are forever broken, and there is nothing left for me to talk about with Nicolas.”

  “Nicolas said that your dad didn’t deserve to go to prison, and that if you’ll give him a chance, he can prove your father’s innocence.”

  A long, heavy pause followed. Luc stared out the window for a few moments and finally turned to me. “That is impossible. Nicolas is just trying to find a way to get back into my life. Why? I do not know. But what he says about my father, there is no way it is true.”

  “What if he’s right, though? What if he could prove your father’s innocence? It could help your family heal. You could be in touch with your dad again. Maybe your mom would change her mind—”

  “You have no idea what you’re talking about, Charlotte. You need to stay out of this.”

  I really didn’t want to lose my cool so early in our blissful honeymoon period, but the tone of his last comment sent me over the edge. “You’re right, Luc. I have no clue what I’m talking about because you won’t tell me anything! I have to learn it from a family of rich and famous sleazebags instead! In fact, Marcel gave me a similar warning this morning. He told me that I needed to stay out of it if I wanted to have any chance of keeping my marriage intact. Could you please tell me what is going on
here?”

  “The Bouchers are a toxic family, Charlotte. They ruined my family, and I will not let them ruin our marriage. But by the look of those trashy photos, it looks as if they’ve already infiltrated us. Am I right?”

  “Are you asking if I cheated on you last night?”

  Luc’s silence was my answer.

  I thought back through the random, spotty memories I had of the night before, and despite the fact that I couldn’t remember certain key moments, like walking into Marcel’s apartment, or anything that had happened once we arrived there, I was certain it hadn’t been me kissing one of the Boucher brothers on that balcony. It didn’t matter how many glasses of champagne I’d had, I would never betray Luc. And judging by the scene in Marcel’s bed this morning and the underwear in his living room, I knew it had, unfortunately, been Fiona.

  “No, Luc, I didn’t cheat on you. I only called Nicolas last night because you wouldn’t answer any of my questions when I came back up to the hotel room. I wanted to find out why you’d never told me about your father going to prison, but instead all I found was my husband hiding in the bathroom taking some sketchy call.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Please don’t lie about this. I admit I was eavesdropping, but can you blame me after the events of that insane day? I heard you say that I wouldn’t know the truth until ‘it’s finished.’ That it would only put me in danger. The truth about what, Luc? What needs to be finished? And why on earth would I be in danger?”

  Luc didn’t deny anything this time. Instead he gazed at me apologetically and slid his hands up to my shoulders.

  “I’m so sorry you’ve been dragged into this mess, Charlotte. That is exactly what I didn’t want to happen. I never told you about my father or about Brigitte because I was hoping that my mistakes and those of my family wouldn’t touch us. I wanted a fresh start for me, for us. It was wrong of me not to tell you those things, though, and I’m sorry. I understand why you went to Nicolas last night. You just wanted to know the truth, and I wasn’t giving it to you.”

  “Who were you talking to on the phone, Luc?”

  Luc hesitated, his eyes once again avoiding my gaze. “Just an old friend. Nothing you need to worry about, mon amour. The truth is that there is more to this whole Boucher family situation than I’ve told you, and unfortunately these are things that I am not able to tell you just yet. I know that is going to be hard for you to accept, but I’m asking you right now to trust me. Trust that I love you and that I will protect you, always. You must believe me, Charlotte.”

  “You’re scaring me, Luc. I just want to know what’s going on. I mean, how bad it could be that it would put me in danger?”

  Luc ran a finger down my cheek and smiled. “It’s not that bad. Just some unfinished business that you don’t need to be involved in, that’s all. Nothing for you to worry about. Now that we are back in Lyon, we can start our lives together. And I want nothing more than to make you the happiest woman on earth. I don’t ever want you to regret marrying me. You are the love of my life, Charlotte. Do you believe me?”

  “Yes, Luc, of course. I love you too. More than I can even express. Which is why I don’t want us to have secrets from each other. That’s not how a marriage should be. After all, both of our secrets were what caused so much trouble for us last year. I don’t want to repeat the same mistakes.”

  Luc squeezed my hands, the look in his chestnut eyes sincere and full of love. “We won’t, chérie. We won’t. You just have to trust me, okay?”

  I ignored the uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach and nodded. “Okay, but what about Brigitte? We have to set some ground rules. She can’t stop by unannounced and upset Adeline. I’m just beginning to build my relationship with your daughter, and I know Brigitte is her mother, but I don’t want to lose the momentum.”

  “I will handle Brigitte. That is not your job. I didn’t think she would return to France permanently, and I certainly didn’t think she would try so hard to see Adeline. She was a neglectful mother, and while I hope for our daughter’s sake that she can change, I honestly don’t think it is possible. Only time will tell, though.”

  “You can’t be so naïve to not see that she’s still in love with you, Luc. That’s why she’s storming back in. She can’t stand that you’re remarried already. That you’ve moved on. Women are very jealous creatures—take it from one who knows—and a girl like Brigitte who’s always used to getting her way… well, let’s just say that she won’t go down without a fight.”

  Luc kissed me on the forehead. “You will not be the one doing the fighting, though, ma belle. You understand?”

  “We’re married now, Luc. You don’t have to fight these battles on your own. We’re a team. I want to be here for you. I want to help.” What I didn’t say was that I wasn’t about to let that raging little actress steal any more time away from my twenty-nine days of honeymoon bliss than she already had, but I figured that was implied.

  “Merci, Charlotte. You see, this is why I married you.” Luc leaned in and brushed his lips over mine, instantly making me remember all of the reasons why I married him too.

  After his tingle-inducing kiss, he raised a flirtatious eyebrow. “I have something for you. Wait here.” He walked over to our closet and pulled out a pretty white bag tied with a pink satin ribbon.

  “Hmm, I think I know where that’s from,” I said.

  Luc grinned and handed me the bag. “I was going to give you this on our last night in the hotel. Adeline is sound asleep… so if we’re quiet, maybe we can make up for it tonight?”

  “If you’re lucky,” I said with a smile. “But there are still a few things we need to talk about.” It was time for me to come clean about my less-than-desirable employment situation, and I needed to ask him why he hadn’t told me about paying the guests’ hotel tab at our wedding.

  Luc sighed, leaning his forehead into mine. “Chérie, to be honest, I’m exhausted after staying up most of the night with Adeline, and after all of this ex-wife business, I don’t think I can handle one more thing.” He pressed his lips to mine once more, his kiss lingering as he ran his hands down to the small of my back. “Except seeing you try on your lingerie. That is something I can handle.”

  “Oh, you can handle that, can you?” I lifted a brow at my adorable husband and couldn’t help but laugh. If I was being honest, the last thing I felt like doing right now was discussing finances or the loss of my job.

  “Open it, chérie,” Luc prodded.

  I opened the dainty gift bag from my favorite lingerie store in Lyon, Chez Isabelle. Inside, I found a delicate, silky pink slip that opened down the front. Three lavender bows tied across the opening, and a beautiful pattern of matching lavender lace trimmed the hem. Two sparkling amethyst-colored jewels studded the silky straps.

  It was gorgeous, sexy, and exactly my style.

  “I love it,” I whispered back before giving him another kiss.

  He wrapped his arms around my waist and trailed warm kisses up my neck. “Perhaps I can help you try it on?”

  I pushed away all of the fears and doubts that had consumed my mind in the past twenty-four hours, and instead allowed my sweet husband to wrap me up in his warm embrace. Despite everything that had just happened, I felt so comfortable in his arms, so safe. If Luc couldn’t divulge the details of this bizarre Boucher family business, I simply had to trust that he had his reasons, and that he was capable of handling it on his own. In the meantime, I was looking forward to making up for our missed night of honeymoon bliss.

  “I’d love some help trying on my new lingerie,” I said, squeezing his thigh.

  He grinned as he slipped my shirt over my head and ran his strong hands up the length of my torso and over my breasts. He quickly unfastened my bra, stood me up in front of him, and unbuttoned my jeans.

  “Tu es magnifique, ma beauté,” he whispered, kissing my navel and pulling my jeans down to my ankles.

  I ruffled my hands
through Luc’s hair as he pulled me in closer and slipped his fingers in between my thighs.

  “Luc, if you keep this up, I don’t think you’re going to see the lingerie on me. I won’t be able to wait that long.”

  A sultry laugh escaped his lips as he stripped me completely naked, then slipped the silky nightie over my head, running his strong hands over my hips as he did so.

  The smooth material felt cool on my skin in contrast to Luc’s roaming hands, lighting a fire in my abdomen. I pulled him closer to me and ripped off his T-shirt. “One night without you was too long. Let’s not make that mistake again.”

  Luc responded with a deep growl as he unbuttoned his jeans and let them drop to the floor. I fell backwards onto our cushy bed and let him have a look at me in my new lingerie. His sexy grin gave way to an even sexier dimple as he swiftly removed his underwear, then climbed over top of me and plunged his warm mouth onto mine.

  My hips surged upward, melding with Luc’s pulsing, toned body. I suddenly didn’t care about anything that had happened over the past day and a half. Luc was my husband. He loved me unconditionally, and I loved him the same. I always would. Nothing would ever change that.

  “Mon amour, j’ai envie de toi,” Luc’s husky voice whispered in my ear as he knelt in between my legs and ran his hands up the inside of my thighs, making me squirm in anticipation.

  “I want you too, Luc.” I grabbed his hips and pulled him back down on top of me. “Now.”

  “A woman who knows exactly what she wants—there is nothing sexier.” He hovered over me, his broad shoulders, ruffled brown hair, and lust-filled gaze almost too much for me to bear. “And what will you do if I don’t give you what you want?” he teased.

  I dug my nails into his back and pulled him closer. “I don’t think you want to find out.”

  Luc laughed as he pulled a thin pink strap off my shoulder and ran his lips across the tops of my breasts. “I’ll take my chances.” He traced the outline of my nipple with his thumb, while his other hand slipped underneath the lace, his fingers immediately finding the spot that made me go insane.