"If you're really serious, why weren't we invited?" Marie demanded.
"It was only a small wedding," Philippe said.
She looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "Another spur-of-the-moment decision?"
"I like to think we were destined for each other." He reached over and took Nicole's hand, gazing at her meaningfully. "We knew from the moment we met that we shared a common bond."
"How did you two meet?" a woman named Helene asked.
"It was totally unexpected," he answered vaguely. "Nicole is…was…Raymond's sister-in-law."
Their faces sobered for a moment. Raymond had been universally liked. Nicole's connection to him made her all the more intriguing.
After they had all offered belated congratulations, Marie said, "Does Claudine know?"
"Not yet." His expression was unreadable. "We haven't had a chance to tell anyone yet. You're the first to know."
Nicole wondered who Claudine was. Somebody significant in Philippe's life, judging by the looks his friends exchanged. Wasn't it strange that he hadn't mentioned the other woman when she asked if he was involved with anyone?
The group was crowded around their table, creating a traffic jam. The waiters and busboys were having trouble serving and clearing away.
"I guess we should sit down," Marie said reluctantly. "I do want to hear all the details, though. Perhaps the four of us could have dinner tomorrow night."
"We'll join you," the others said in a chorus.
"I'm afraid tomorrow won't work out, but we'll get together soon," Philippe promised.
"I'll call you in the morning after you've had a chance to look at your calendar," Marie said, not letting him off the hook.
After they left, Philippe said wryly, "I'd hoped the news wouldn't get around for a few days, but I should have known we'd run into somebody here."
"It isn't something you can keep secret for long. You must know scads of people in Paris. Why don't you want anyone to know about us?"
"I'm thinking of you. You'll have to pretend to be in love with me. I know how difficult that will be for you."
"You'll have the same problem," she answered dismissively. "We'll manage because we both know it's a charade. We can laugh about it afterward."
"That's the right attitude. It will be our private joke." Philippe paused as the waiter set a soufflé Jeanette in front of them, a puffy creation of both chocolate and vanilla. He waited until the man had served them and left. Then he continued, "A lot of my friends will want to give parties for us so they can take a look at you and find out everything about you. I don't want you to have to go through that over and over again. It might be easier if we gave a reception and satisfied everybody's curiosity at once."
"I suppose you're right."
"It won't be so bad. They're really nice people. I think you'll like them when you get to know them."
Nicole wasn't convinced that all of them would like her. "Who's Claudine?" she asked directly.
"Claudine Duval. She's an old and dear friend of mine. She'll be a big help to you. She's knowledgeable about hairdressers and where to shop, all those things you'll want to know."
"Assuming she wants to be my friend, too," Nicole said skeptically.
"I'm sure you two will get along famously. Everybody loves Claudine. She's smart and interesting, great fun to be with."
It was becoming more apparent by the minute that Philippe had a special attachment to this woman. The question was, why hadn't they ever married?
"What does she look like?" Nicole asked.
"She's a natural redhead, with the green eyes and creamy skin that often go with red hair. Also, a charming little sprinkling of freckles across her nose."
He certainly sounded like a man in love. Whatever made him think Claudine would accept her? "Maybe you should tell her the truth about us," Nicole said slowly. "You can ask her not to tell anyone else."
"The only way to keep a secret is not to tell anybody," Philippe said firmly. "Don't worry. After the reception, people will lose interest in us and start talking about someone else."
"I hope you're right."
"Trust me. I'll have my secretary send out the invitations right away. As soon as the party is over, we can get back to normal."
"Whatever that is. Nothing about my life is normal," Nicole sighed.
"It will be," he said soothingly. "Life will just be a little easier for you. For the past few months, all you've done is work and take care of Robaire. You deserve to have some fun, especially at night after he's asleep. I'm going to show you Paris after dark."
Nicole was reminded that she didn't have the proper clothes for an extensive social life. She mentioned the fact to Philippe.
"No problem," he said. "Claudine will take you out to buy a new wardrobe."
"I can't afford the places I'm sure she patronizes," Nicole said bluntly.
"I'll pay for everything, naturally."
"I couldn't let you do that."
"Why on earth not? I'm your husband. I'm legally responsible for your bills. Did you expect to pay for your room and board, as well?"
"That's different."
"I don't see it that way. Please explain it to me."
"I just wouldn't feel right about letting you pay my personal expenses under our present arrangement," she said uncomfortably. "I told you that when you offered before."
"I remember. Would it make it all right if we slept together? I suppose we could change the terms of our agreement," he teased. "I think I could force myself to comply."
"Be serious, Philippe!"
"My dear Nicole, you're being foolish. I'm simply trying to spare you embarrassment. As far as I'm concerned, you would look lovely in a flour sack, but I'm sure you'd prefer to be suitably dressed at our reception and all the other affairs that will come up."
Nicole had to admit he was right. She frowned in concentration. "Do you think I could rent a sewing machine? I don't suppose you have one."
He gave her a wary look. "You want to make your own clothes?"
"Don't look so shocked." She couldn't help laughing. "I did make my living as a seamstress and I do plan to be a designer. It would be wonderful exposure. I'd have a chance to show off my original creations."
"If that's what you want," he said reluctantly.
"Don't worry." She grinned, echoing his earlier advice. "They'll almost have to be better than a flour sack."
The house was quiet when they returned home. The servants had left lights on downstairs so it felt welcoming, but the household had retired for the night.
"Would you care for a nightcap before turning in?" Philippe asked.
She shook her head. "I've already had more to drink than usual. Thank you for the wonderful dinner. I had a very nice time."
"You sound surprised." He chuckled as they walked up the stairs together. "I told you I'd grow on you."
"That's because we didn't argue all evening," she said lightly.
"We did, but you won all the arguments."
"Only the last one, which you didn't really care about." When he stopped in front of her door, she said, "I'm going to check on Robbie."
"I'll go with you."
The little boy was sound asleep, curled up with a teddy bear in his arms. Nicole straightened his bunched-up covers before bending down to kiss his cheek.
"Could I…?" Philippe asked hesitantly.
"Of course." She was touched by the yearning on his face.
He gently brushed back the child's silky hair, then kissed his forehead. Nicole felt reassured. She and Philippe had perhaps irreconcilable differences, but they shared one bond. They both loved their nephew.
After they'd tiptoed out of the room and paused to say good-night, she could feel the mood between them change. They were suddenly very much aware of each other.
"Well, uh, I guess I'll go to bed," she said. "It's been a very eventful day."
"Cheer up, the worst is over. Who knows? You might even find you like b
eing married." Nicole tensed as his head dipped towards her, but Philippe merely cupped her chin in his palm. "You look tired. Get some rest, chérie." He kissed her cheek and went down the hall to his bedroom.
Her skin still tingled from his warm mouth as she went into her own room. The situation was provocative; they were married, yet not married. That was the only reason her nerves were jangled, she told herself. It was only natural to imagine how different her wedding night could have been if she indulged in sex as casually as she was sure Philippe did.
He would be here with her now, undressing her slowly, arousing her with tantalizing caresses as he unzipped her dress. She could almost feel his long fingers stroking her breasts, his wet tongue curling around her aching nipples.
Nicole drew in her breath sharply, trying to blot out the erotic image. She was playing right into Philippe's hands! This was what he was counting on. That the chemistry between them would flame out of her control. But he was wrong. She was never going to let that happen!
Chapter Five
Nicole was enjoying the luxury of sleeping late the next morning when Paul woke her to say she had a telephone call.
It had to be Philippe; she didn't know anybody else in Paris. Nicole picked up the phone with a strange rush of anticipation.
A furious female voice greeted her. Without any preamble, the woman said, "Did you think I would let you get away with this outrage? I'll have the marriage annulled! We both know you're only after Philippe's money, but I'll see to it that you don't get one sou!"
"Madame Galantoire, I presume," Nicole said tightly. "I didn't expect congratulations, but you're angry at the wrong person. Take it up with your son. Philippe was the one who insisted on this marriage."
"That's a lie! You trapped him the way your sister trapped my Raymond. You're both cheap opportunists. I've heard about your kind of woman. You tease and tantalize a man until he has to have you at any cost."
Nicole's eyes narrowed dangerously. "You can call me any names you wish, but you can't talk about my sister like that. She gave Raymond more love and happiness in their short time together than he'd ever known before. If you really cared about him, you'd be grateful to Sandra instead of vilifying her."
"How dare you talk to me like that?"
"Somebody should have a long time ago," Nicole muttered.
"What do you know about a mother's love? Your sister stole Raymond from me, and now you're trying to take Philippe and my grandson." The older woman's voice was anguished.
This spoiled, intolerant woman didn't deserve consideration, but Nicole did feel a twinge of pity. "I'm not trying to come between you and your son," she said more gently. "You have nothing to worry about."
"If you really mean that, you'll go back where you came from and leave us alone. I'll give you money," Catherine said eagerly. "Just stay away from my loved ones and you can name your own price!"
"Do you honestly think I'd sell my sister's child to the highest bidder?" Nicole asked disgustedly. "You must be a very sick woman."
"Don't be a fool! You'll wind up with nothing. When Philippe gets tired of you, he'll turn you out without a penny."
"Then save your money. All you have to do is wait," Nicole drawled.
"You're confident now, but time is on my side," Catherine said furiously. "I'm going to be watching and waiting for you to make a mistake. Greedy women like you always do. And when I catch you, you'll be sorry you ever heard of the Galantoires."
"I already am. Goodbye, Madame Galantoire," Nicole said firmly, cradling the receiver.
She'd kept her voice level, but she was shaking after the ugly confrontation. Nobody had ever hated her before or been that abusive. Nicole's first angry impulse was to confront Philippe and suggest he put a muzzle on his mother. Then she had second thoughts.
He would be caught in the middle and it wouldn't change anything. He already knew his mother was difficult; talking to her wouldn't help. It might even cause a rift between them, which would be sad. Philippe was all the older woman had left. She was a flawed human being, but even disagreeable people had feelings. Nicole sighed.
That wasn't her only problem as the day progressed. She was having trouble keeping Robbie amused. Philippe had bought him the car he promised, then he dropped him at home and went off to work. Robbie was ecstatic with his new toy—until the novelty wore off. Then he trailed after Nicole, complaining that he had nothing to do. She didn't have a moment to herself.
When Philippe returned from work that evening, he took one look at her set face and sighed. "I'm sorry about Mother's phone call today."
Nicole was momentarily startled out of her annoyance. "What did she tell you?"
"Enough to know that she was inexcusably rude to you. We had a long talk and I took care of the matter," he said grimly. "She won't bother you again."
"I'm sorry she told you. I hope you didn't say anything you'll be sorry for."
He gave her a puzzled look. "My mother's behavior was unacceptable. From what I gather, she was thoroughly unpleasant. Why should you care if we argue?"
"Nothing you say will change her opinion of me. We'll never be friends or even like each other. But I can imagine how terrible it would be to lose a son, especially one you were estranged from. And on top of that, to have to worry about losing your remaining son, which is what she's afraid of."
Philippe stared at her in silence for a moment. When he answered, his voice was husky. "That's remarkably understanding. I'm afraid the Galantoires haven't been as generous toward you."
"It's never too late," she said lightly to hide her pleasure. She hadn't expected Philippe to be this solidly on her side.
"Just tell me what I can do for you."
"Nothing for me, but I need to talk to you about Robbie. He doesn't have anybody to play with or anything to do all day. It's not a healthy atmosphere."
"I've been thinking about that. I realize a town house isn't the best place to raise an active boy. He needs fields to run in and pets to romp around with."
"That would be ideal. Where do we find them?"
"At my chateau in the country. We'll pack up and move there. We have horses and dogs, and I have friends with children on neighboring estates. It's a youngster's paradise."
Nicole felt a slight pang at leaving Paris. She'd caught only a glimpse of the exciting city. But Robbie's needs were more important. "That sounds like a perfect solution, but what about your work? Will you be able to come visit on weekends?"
"Do you think I could be separated from you for a whole week?" As Nicole felt a glow of pleasure, Philippe continued, "What would people think? We're newlyweds. I'll simply work out of my office at the winery."
"That's convenient. How soon can we move?"
"Right after the reception."
It was more than two weeks away! "What will I do with Robbie for that long?" Nicole asked despairingly. "I had trouble keeping him busy for one day!"
"Let me worry about that." When she looked doubtful, Philippe said, "I want you to relax and enjoy yourself. You've given up enough for Robaire."
"I never considered it a sacrifice."
"I know. That's what makes you so special," he said in a husky voice.
Nicole was surprised—and disturbed—by the happiness his compliment brought. Philippe was expressing gratitude, nothing more, she told herself. Underneath that handsome, charming exterior was the same hard-as-nails man she'd first met. It was important to remember that.
Philippe put his hands on her shoulders. "Let me share some of the responsibility, chérie. You aren't alone anymore."
She hadn't had anyone to lean on for so long, not since her parents died many years ago. It was a nice feeling to have somebody to share with. She gazed into his eyes, almost wishing he'd put his arms around her and hold her close.
Philippe drew in his breath sharply as he gazed at her softly parted lips. His head dipped toward hers and Nicole was powerless to move away.
But at the last moment,
his hands dropped to his sides and he moved back, murmuring, "I'm sorry."
She felt as if she'd been doused with a pail of cold water—something she needed, Nicole told herself bitingly. How many more ways could this man tell her he didn't want to get involved? Courtesy wasn't the same as caring.
Philippe had recovered his poise almost immediately. "I'll locate a good nursery school for Robaire, and Paul can drive him there and pick him up. Robaire will be happy, and you'll finally have some time to yourself."
"I would like to rent a sewing machine and go shopping for fabric," she admitted. "I have to make a dress for the reception, and there isn't much time."
Philippe had a wonderful ability for getting things accomplished swiftly and seemingly without effort. He contacted some of his friends who had children and found a nursery school that met with Robbie's enthusiastic approval.
Nicole didn't have to rent a sewing machine. Philippe took care of that, as well. He bought one for her and had it delivered the next day, then turned an upstairs bedroom into a sewing room for her.
She was hard at work on her dress a couple of days later when Philippe came home unexpectedly at noon to take her out for lunch and shopping.
"I already bought some fabric and I don't need anything else." She showed him a length of champagne-colored silk. "This is for the dress I'm making. Do you like it?"
"Yes, it's lovely. You do need something else, though. We have to pick out your engagement ring."
"Is that really necessary, Philippe? It seems like such a needless expense."
"It's all part of the window dressing. My friends didn't notice you weren't wearing a ring the other night because they were too surprised at the news of our marriage. But they'll certainly notice at the reception."
Nicole was getting tired of being reminded that she was merely a useful prop to Philippe. Not that she wanted theirs to be a real marriage, but it would be nice if he realized she was a person, too.
"You don't need me to go with you. Whatever you select will be fine."
He slanted a look at her, alerted by her tone. "Choosing an engagement ring is something a man and a woman should do together," he said in a voice like melted honey.
An Eligible Stranger Page 6