Nicole had always known Philippe was rich, but she hadn't realized just how wealthy he must be. The chateau was probably hundreds of years old, so it must have cost a fortune to modernize the interior like this. And how beautifully it had been done, without losing any of its old-world charm.
Nicole smiled as she glanced again at the sunken tub. Robbie wouldn't have to be coaxed to take a bath anymore. That reminded her that she didn't know where his room was located.
She went back into the bedroom and across to the connecting door. The door was closed, but the latch hadn't caught, so when she knocked, the door swung open. Nicole was frozen to the spot as Philippe came out of the bathroom stark naked!
He was drying his hair vigorously with a bath towel, so he didn't see her at first. When he did, Philippe was as startled as she was. They stared at each other for a quivering moment that seemed to last an eternity.
Nicole was aware of every inch of his lean, totally masculine body. It was as perfectly sculpted as a classical statue of a Greek athlete. But Philippe was very human. His body radiated virility. Her eyes were riveted to his narrow hips and long, muscular legs.
Then he wrapped the bath towel around his waist. The spell was broken and her cheeks turned as red as American Beauty roses.
"I'm sorry…I didn't…the door wasn't…" she stuttered.
Philippe was amused rather than embarrassed. "You seem so shocked. Is there something about me that's different from other men?"
"No, I…" If he didn't know he was a sublime specimen of manhood, this was certainly no time to tell him! She turned away, mumbling, "I'll let you get dressed." To her consternation, he followed her into her room.
"What did you come to tell me?"
"It can wait," she said with her back to him.
Philippe put his hands on her shoulders and turned her around to face him. "Aren't you making a lot out of nothing? I'm sure you've seen a naked man before."
Not one who made her feel like this, she could have told him. His close proximity and the warmth of his hands on her shoulders were making her legs tremble.
"It's one of those little anecdotes we'll laugh about," he said, coaxing her to share the joke.
She managed a smile. "Maybe you will. I'd appreciate it if you didn't remind me."
"Actually, it's a good thing this happened. It adds to our credibility as a married couple. You can work it into the conversation that I have a secret birthmark."
"I didn't see one."
"It's a little crescent-shaped mark here on my groin."
As he reached for the towel, Nicole's hands closed over his. "I'll take your word for it!" she said breathlessly.
"Does that mean you're starting to trust me?" he asked softly.
The situation couldn't have been more provocative. The back of her hand was resting on his warm, smooth skin in an erogenous zone that was dangerously inviting. Nicole knew she should take her hand away, but she seemed unable to.
Philippe drew in his breath as he gazed at her softly curved mouth. "Sweet Nicole," he murmured. "You're so adorable."
He slipped an arm around her waist and drew her slowly toward him. Nicole could have resisted, but she was mesmerized by the light in his gray eyes. She wanted him to hold her close and kiss her without restraint.
For just an instant, Robbie's voice calling from the hallway didn't register. They drew apart as the little boy stuck his head in the door.
"I've been looking in every room for you, Aunt Nicky," he complained.
She gave him a shaky smile. "Well, now you've found me. Did you have fun with Jules?"
"Yes, he's my new best friend. His mother gave us cookies and Jules showed me some neat puppies. Can I have one for my very own, Uncle Philippe?"
"I don't see why not, as long as you take care of it."
"Oh, I will, I promise!" Robbie gave Philippe a closer look. "You're only wearing a towel. Did Aunt Nicky give you a bath?" The little boy laughed uproariously at his own joke.
"No, but it's something to think about." Philippe slanted an impish glance at Nicole. "I'll see you both later. I'm going to get dressed." He turned at the door. "By the way, Robaire's room is at the end of the hall, next to his playroom."
When they were alone, Robbie chattered on about all the things he'd seen and done with Jules. But for the first time, Nicole didn't give him her full attention.
She was still confused and disturbed by her torrid response to Philippe. It would be different if it was an isolated incident. What woman wouldn't be affected by a real-life Adonis she could reach out and touch?
But she reacted this way under ordinary circumstances. She could feel the excitement when he just entered a room. It was almost as though she was falling in love with him—which would be a disaster! Philippe had only married her to get custody of Robbie. It was a practical decision, nothing more. He would enjoy making love to her, but his emotions wouldn't be involved.
Nicole almost wished she had his lack of scruples. Philippe would be a masterful lover, she thought wistfully. He could rouse her passion in so many ways, with tantalizing caresses, with just the brush of his hard body against hers, with— She was abruptly yanked out of heaven when Robbie tugged on her arm.
"You're not listening to me, Aunt Nicky!"
"Yes, I am, darling." She tried to blot Philippe out of her mind. "Tell me again about the puppies. How old are they?"
Nicole might have felt better if she'd known that Philippe was facing his own dilemma. He puzzled over it as he pulled on pale-gray slacks and a black turtleneck sweater.
His loins tightened as he recalled how he'd stood before her in full male revelation. A smile tugged at his mouth when he remembered the shock on her face. But there had been something else, too. She'd felt the same desire he had.
Lord, how he'd wanted her! It was a good thing Robaire had interrupted them, because it would have been a colossal mistake for them to make love.
He'd forced Nicole to marry him, and she hadn't stopped resenting him for that. Was she only biding her time, waiting for any excuse to take the boy back to the States? He couldn't afford to become too relaxed with her—which could very well happen if they became lovers.
Sex was out for them, Philippe decided regretfully. He'd like to kiss her everywhere and bury himself in her enticing body, but it would have to remain a forbidden pleasure.
Nicole was self-conscious with Philippe after their traumatic encounter—at least, it had been traumatic for her! But he was so completely natural that she soon got over her embarrassment.
He spent a lot of time showing her around for the first couple of days, starting with the chateau itself, which was vast. Besides numerous bedrooms and reception rooms, there was a grand ballroom on the third floor. All the rooms were beautifully decorated, with pictures in heavy gilt frames on the walls and exquisite art objects on tables and mantels.
As they walked down a corridor that intersected with another hallway, Nicole remarked, "A person could get lost in this place and never be heard from again."
"Don't worry, we send out search parties on Wednesdays and Fridays," Philippe joked.
He also mentioned a tour of the winery that was close by, but that trip never materialized. After allowing the newlyweds a couple of days to get settled, invitations from Philippe's friends on neighboring estates started pouring in. Everyone wanted to entertain them.
Nicole realized she'd need a complete new wardrobe. Her sewing machine had been sent to the country, but the nearby village didn't have the elegant fabrics she required. Philippe had a ready solution, as he did to most of her problems. He drove her into Paris for the day.
Nicole didn't have to worry about Robbie. He enjoyed playing with Jules. They were always supervised by Maurice or one of the many other chateau workers, but the boys had a sense of freedom and self-reliance. Nicole had to admit the estate was a wonderful place for a child to grow up.
Philippe drove them into Paris instead of taking the limo and
chauffeur. Once they reached the large metropolis, he knew exactly where the shops she wanted were located.
When she commented on his knowledge of the city, he said, "You'll be equally expert at getting around after you've been here for a while."
How long would that be? she wondered. Philippe sounded as if he expected their arrangement to be permanent. Could they really go on living a lie indefinitely?
The troubling thoughts were pushed to the back of her mind as she looked in the window of a fabric store. The bolts of cloth inspired her as a blank canvas inspires an artist. Nicole couldn't wait to go in and start browsing.
"Why don't you wait for me at one of those chic sidewalk cafes where you can look at all the pretty girls passing by?" she suggested. "You'll be incredibly bored trailing after me in the fabric store."
"I'm never bored when I'm with you." Philippe's eyes lit with laughter. "Aggravated, perhaps, certainly frustrated a lot of the time, but never bored."
"I don't know if you meant it to be, but that's a nice compliment."
"I meant it to be," he answered warmly.
After convincing Philippe to meet her later, Nicole wandered through the shop selecting linen, lace, chiffon and much more. Enough yardage for an entire wardrobe. The time flew by unnoticed. Nicole gasped when she finally looked at her watch. She was terribly late! Philippe would be furious and she couldn't blame him.
She was out of breath when she arrived at the outdoor cafe where they'd agreed to meet. "I'm terribly sorry!" she apologized. "I completely lost track of time."
"I figured you would," he said with an indulgent smile.
She gazed at him uncertainly. "I thought you'd be angry. I think I would be if someone kept me waiting this long."
"This is your day, chérie. I want you to be happy and enjoy it."
"That's awfully nice of you." Even if he was only placating her so she'd be easier to get along with, it was very thoughtful of him.
"The next time you're angry at me, I'll remind you that I do have some good qualities." He looked at her quizzically. "Didn't you buy anything?"
"I got some wonderful fabrics! They were too heavy to carry, so I told the saleswoman we'd pick them up later."
"Then why don't you decide where you'd like to have lunch?"
"Could we stay right here?"
"You just want to ogle all the handsome men passing by," Philippe teased. "I don't know if I like the competition."
Not many men could compete with him, Nicole thought, studying his handsome face as he lifted a hand to summon a waiter. Philippe had everything— looks, charm, grace and great wealth. It was difficult to believe he was her husband—even if it was in name only.
"What would you like to do this afternoon?" he asked while they were finishing lunch.
"Don't you have to get back to work? You've been spending all of your time with me."
"We're on our honeymoon. How would it look if I went right back to work?"
Whenever she started to forget they were just playacting, Philippe never failed to remind her. "I didn't think of that. You're so good at keeping up appearances," she said mockingly.
He directed a wary glance at her. "I thought we agreed it was necessary for Robaire's sake."
"You're right—as usual."
He took both of her hands in his. "I know this isn't easy for you, Nicole. You miss your friends and your old way of life. That's understandable. If I didn't think this was best for Robaire, I wouldn't ask you to make such a sacrifice."
Nicole realized that very few people would sympathize with her. Here she was in Paris, one of the world's most exciting cities, with Philippe, one of the world's most exciting men. She had a fortune in jewels on her fingers, and she lived in a gorgeous French chateau, waited on by an army of servants. It was time to stop being difficult.
"You gave up a lot, too," she said. "I guess I can put up with the situation if you can."
"It's a lot easier for me." He raised her hands to his lips. "I get to look at you every day."
An elegantly dressed older couple stopped at their table. They had been sitting nearby and were now leaving. "Excuse us for intruding," the woman said. "We just had to tell you how wonderful it is to see a young married couple so much in love."
"Is it that noticeable?" Philippe asked, smiling.
"You both positively glow when you look at each other," she assured him.
Nicole wondered how the couple knew they were married, then realized they must have spotted her wedding ring.
"I hope you'll be as happy as we've been for the past thirty years," the man said, glancing fondly at his wife.
"You can tell they will be," she said confidently. "They were made for each other. Enjoy your life and have lots of babies," she told them with a twinkle in her eyes. "They'll be absolutely gorgeous!"
When the older couple had moved on, Nicole said, "Imagine being married for thirty years. That's a life sentence!" For once, she was going to make a derisive remark before Philippe did.
His bemused expression hardened. "I guess you can get used to anything." He beckoned the waiter over with the check.
The edgy little exchange between them was baffling. One minute they were getting along, if not like lovers, at least companionably. The next minute they were like racehorses, determined not to let the other get ahead. Why was there always this tension between them? Nicole wondered hopelessly.
It dissipated a short time later in the Louvre. Who could worry about petty problems in the midst of such masterpieces? They wandered through the halls of the stately museum, pausing in front of priceless paintings and epic statuary. Nicole didn't notice when Philippe took her hand; or maybe she took his. It just felt right.
They walked in the Tuileries Gardens afterward and stopped for meltingly delicious pastries and coffee before visiting Notre-Dame Cathedral to look up in awe at the inspiring stained-glass windows.
"You're an awfully good sport," Nicole said on the drive home. "I'll bet you hated doing the whole tourist bit."
"You want me to deny it."
"It would be nice, but I'd know you were only being polite."
"I don't expect you to believe this, but I actually had a very good time today."
"You sound surprised." She laughed.
"Everything about you surprises me. That's what makes you such fun to be with."
Nicole didn't try to analyze the satisfaction his compliments brought. She decided just to enjoy them.
Her pleasure lasted only until they got home. A servant told them Robbie was playing in the garden at the rear of the chateau, so they went outside, anticipating his excitement at the toys they'd brought back.
An idyllic scene greeted them. Claudine Duval was seated on the grass, holding Robbie on her lap. The sunshine warmed their laughing faces and turned her hair to flaming red, a stunning contrast to the lush green lawn surrounding them.
Robbie called out excitedly when he saw them. "Come on over here! Aunt Claudine is telling me a story."
Nicole felt a pang at how easily the other woman had won his affection. Evidently, no man was immune to her charms, no matter what age he was.
"This is a pleasant surprise," Philippe said. "Why didn't you tell us you were coming?"
Before she could answer, Robbie tugged at her sleeve and said, "You have to finish the story. She was telling me about this French guy that lived a long time ago," he told the other two. "He rode a horse and saved people from the mean guys that wanted to cut off their heads."
Philippe raised an eyebrow at Claudine. "I remember The Scarlet Pimpernel as being more adventurous than gory."
"I wanna hear the end," Robbie insisted.
"I'll tell you the second installment next time." When he started to protest, Claudine said, "If I told you the end now, the story would be over. This way, you have something to look forward to."
Claudine was a modern-day Scheherazade. She knew how to keep a male interested. Although in Philippe's case, her metho
ds were undoubtedly more sophisticated, Nicole thought cynically.
Chapter Seven
Nicole just assumed that Claudine would be staying at the chateau, but fortunately her parents owned a neighboring estate. Claudine was included in all the parties for the newlyweds, of course, so Nicole still saw a lot of her.
One day, Claudine surprised her by dropping over unexpectedly. "I thought we might go out to lunch together, just the two of us," she said. "There's a cute little bistro near here. We can have a leisurely lunch and get to know each other better."
Nicole could think of things she'd rather do—like walking barefoot over broken glass. But she couldn't come up with a graceful way to get out of going. Philippe had gone back to work. Robbie was so busy she scarcely saw him, and Paul's staff took care of the house. All she could do was accept the invitation as graciously as possible.
If Claudine had an ulterior motive in asking her to lunch, it wasn't immediately apparent. She kept up a running conversation about inconsequential things like clothes and parties on the drive to the restaurant.
Then when they were seated at a table overlooking a charming little pond, they discussed various choices on the menu. Philippe's name didn't come up until after they'd given the waiter their order.
"I suppose everyone has told you how surprised they were that Philippe finally got married," Claudine said.
"Yes, and I imagine you were the most surprised of all," Nicole answered in an equally casual tone.
"I was furious! I couldn't believe he'd do a thing like that just out of the blue. Philippe and I have always told each other everything."
"You must have a very close relationship."
"We do. I hope that won't be a problem between you and me."
"I imagine you and Philippe have discussed that and worked it out," Nicole said with distaste. Did the woman want her to approve of their affair?
"Our friendship is important to both of us. Philippe is very special to me." Claudine paused for an instant. "I don't have to tell you that he was a tremendous catch. Besides being drop-dead gorgeous, Philippe is very wealthy. A lot of the single women in Paris would have liked to be his wife."
An Eligible Stranger Page 8