An Eligible Stranger

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An Eligible Stranger Page 9

by Tracy Sinclair


  "So, why did he marry me?" Nicole asked in a brittle voice. "Is that what puzzles you?" If Philippe hadn't told Claudine the truth about their mock marriage, she certainly didn't intend to.

  "That wasn't what I meant. I can understand why he'd be attracted to you. What I'm trying to find out is if you love him," Claudine said bluntly.

  "You think I married Philippe for his money? That's what he and his mother thought when my sister married Raymond." Nicole was losing patience. "Is there any woman you people think is worthy of a Galantoire?"

  "Your sister received really shabby treatment from them. I told Philippe that."

  "A lot of good it did," Nicole muttered.

  "In his own defense, I have to say that Philippe wasn't necessarily against their marriage. He simply thought they should wait until they knew each other better."

  Nicole made a derogatory sound. "Next you'll tell me his mother is really a kind and gentle soul."

  Claudine laughed. "No, she's not what you'd call warm—or even perceptive. Catherine doesn't realize you have to give love to get it. I feel sorry for her."

  "You're very charitable," Nicole said neutrally.

  "I can't blame you for feeling the way you do. I've always thought it was a shame that Catherine never got to know your sister. It might have made a difference. Sandra was such a charming girl."

  "You knew my sister?" Nicole asked in surprise.

  "I met her once. Raymond and I were good pals. He brought her over to see me after the big blowup with Philippe and Catherine. I guess he needed somebody sympathetic to talk to. I offered to try to patch things up between Raymond and his family, but he was too angry with them. The whole thing was so sad. Philippe has gone through hell, blaming himself for what happened."

  "He didn't exactly keep an open mind," Nicole said coolly.

  "If you feel that way, how could you marry him?" Claudine's eyes narrowed. "For revenge?"

  Nicole realized she'd been too candid. She attempted some damage control, choosing her words carefully. "I never expected to fall in love with Philippe. We argued a lot in the beginning. But the chemistry between us was present from the first moment."

  "Yes, I know what that's like," Claudine said softly. "The right man can make you forget all the reasons why you shouldn't be together."

  Nicole had a feeling of hopelessness as she stared at the beautiful, poised woman across from her. Claudine had everything—charm, assurance, social position. No wonder Philippe was in love with her. The logical question was, what kept them apart?

  She asked the other woman directly. "Why didn't you and Philippe ever get married?"

  "And ruin our beautiful friendship?" Claudine grinned. Then her lovely face sobered. "Is that why you've been so reserved with me? You thought Philippe and I were lovers?"

  "It was a logical assumption. The first question everybody asked him was, does Claudine know you're married? And then when we met, you weren't overly friendly."

  "It was nothing personal. I wanted to be sure you married Philippe for the right reasons. I care very much about his happiness."

  Nicole was thoroughly confused. Claudine had indicated in so many ways that she was in love with Philippe. Could any woman be selfless enough to give up her lover and wish him happiness with somebody else? Or was it possible that she was telling the truth and they were simply close friends, as Philippe had said?

  Claudine was looking at her penetratingly. "You never really answered my question. Do you love him?"

  "Yes, I do." It was the only acceptable answer.

  But after the words were spoken, Nicole had a moment of panic. Was it really true? Philippe could make her nerve ends quiver with just that slow smile of his and the feathery touch of his fingertips on her cheek. It was so easy to pretend to be in love with him in front of his friends. They both gave a great performance. But what if only one of them was acting?

  "I didn't really doubt that you loved Philippe. I've seen the way you glow when you're with him," Claudine said. "But I had to be sure. Now that that's out of the way, we can be friends."

  Nicole wouldn't have thought it was possible, but she gradually unbent and started to enjoy herself. Before lunch was over, they were laughing and talking together like sorority sisters.

  Philippe was already home from his office by the time Claudine dropped Nicole at the chateau. He came outside to greet the two women, but Claudine merely waved and drove off.

  "Paul told me you'd gone out to lunch," Philippe said as he and Nicole went inside. "Did you have a good time?"

  "I had a lovely time," she said enthusiastically.

  "Claudine took me to L'Auberge de Soleil. The food was wonderful."

  "I told you she'd show you around." He opened a paneled door that concealed a well-stocked bar complete with a small refrigerator. "What can I fix you to drink?"

  "Perhaps just some sparkling water. I had wine with lunch, and we're going to that big party tonight. I don't want to fall asleep and miss all the fun."

  Philippe looked pleased. "I'm glad you're starting to enjoy yourself. Living here isn't so bad, is it?"

  "I'm not so sure. If this whole arrangement falls apart, it would be a terrible shock to have to live like a normal person again," she said, only half-joking.

  "Why should anything change?" He handed her a tall crystal glass with a slice of lime topping the bubbly water. "Robaire is extremely happy, and you're beginning to feel comfortable here. What could go wrong?"

  Just about anything, Nicole thought, considering their precarious relationship. But instead she said, "You might get tired of being married."

  "So far I find it very pleasant. It's nice to have somebody to come home to. You're the one who might get tired of the restrictions."

  "It's possible." If she really was falling in love with Philippe, their platonic marriage was going to get increasingly difficult. What a disaster it would be if he found out! She forced herself to smile. "Don't worry, though. As I told you, it would be difficult to give up the good life."

  "I'll admit I hoped that would influence you," he said slowly. "But I'm not as ruthless as you think. I blackmailed you into marrying me, but I won't pressure you into staying. No matter what you decide, I'll always take care of you."

  In other words, he'd rather she stayed, but he wouldn't be devastated if she left. The frustration that had been building in Nicole suddenly erupted. "That's insulting! I never wanted money from you! I want—" She stopped, aghast at what she'd almost revealed.

  Philippe's long body tensed as he stared at her impassioned face. "Tell me what you want, chérie," he said softly.

  Nicole's long lashes swept her cheeks as she avoided looking at him. "I'm sorry," she murmured. "That wasn't very gracious of me, was it? I know you meant well, but I'm quite capable of taking care of myself."

  "I don't doubt that for a moment." Philippe's light tone didn't reveal his inner turmoil.

  He wanted to take her in his arms and hold her so tightly that their bodies merged into one. She was so enchanting. Lord, how he wanted to make love to her! Philippe was knowledgeable enough about women to know that she'd be receptive. But Nicole wasn't the sort of girl who made love casually. She'd be sorry afterward, and that was unthinkable!

  "Well, I guess I'd better start getting ready for the party," she murmured.

  "You have plenty of time. Tell me what gorgeous creation you've whipped up to wear tonight."

  The charged moment passed thanks to Philippe's ability to smooth over any situation. Nicole relaxed as she described the gown she'd designed.

  But when she realized she was going into detail about bias cut and side draping, she said ruefully, "You're an awfully good sport to listen so patiently. I know none of this interests you."

  "I'll admit I don't understand all of it, but I like seeing the passion you bring to your work. I do know you're very talented. Claudine loves the gowns you've designed and she knows a lot about fashion."

  "She's everything
you said she is. I had a great time with her today."

  "I knew you would. Everybody loves Claudine."

  Nicole watched him obliquely. "You two have a lot in common. You come from the same background. You like each other enormously. It seems strange that you never married—each other, I mean."

  "Did you mention that to Claudine?"

  "Well, yes," she admitted reluctantly.

  He looked amused. "I can imagine what she answered." When Philippe saw the doubtful look on Nicole's face, he said, "I don't know how to make you understand the kind of relationship Claudine and I have. She's like a sister to me. There has never been anything romantic between us."

  He certainly sounded sincere. Nicole felt a great deal better. "She's such a beautiful woman. I would think she'd have a dozen men buzzing around her, but she came without a date to the last couple of parties."

  Philippe shook his head indulgently. "Claudine discards men the way other women change clothes. Her relationship with the latest one is stormy, so I don't know how long he'll last."

  Philippe changed the subject after that, but not abruptly, as though he was afraid of saying too much. They talked about other things until it was time to get dressed for the evening.

  Nicole was looking forward to the party that night, especially since she'd found out Philippe and Claudine weren't lovers. It had made her uncomfortable when she thought all of their friends were watching and waiting for her to find out. Everything was working out amazingly well, Nicole thought happily.

  The party that evening was a large formal affair, so she'd gone all out, using yards and yards of silver satin brocade. The full skirt swirled below a form-fitting bodice with tiny straps and a deeply scooped neck, front and back. The gown was so cleverly engineered that all she needed to wear under it was a pair of panty hose.

  After she'd applied makeup and brushed her hair until it shone, Nicole stepped into her dress. With an approving look at her creation, she reached for the back zipper. It glided up smoothly for several inches, then stopped. She tugged gently, then a little harder, but it wouldn't budge.

  Nicole slipped the straps off her shoulders so she could slide the dress around, back to front, to see what the problem was. In her effort to free the zipper, her elbow bumped a vase that was sitting on a slender pedestal. It fell to the floor and shattered with a loud crash.

  "Oh, no!" she cried out. It was probably a priceless heirloom! How could she have been so careless?

  Philippe came bounding through the connecting door. He had on trousers, but his dress shirt was unbuttoned. "What happened? Are you all right?"

  "No, I feel terrible! I broke your beautiful vase. Please tell me it isn't irreplaceable."

  Nicole was so upset she didn't realize she was nude from the waist up. The look on Philippe's face alerted her. His expression had changed in a flash from apprehension to desire. As she fumbled for the top of her gown, he continued to walk slowly toward her, devouring her with his avid gaze. She was rooted to the spot, mesmerized by the white-hot light in his eyes.

  "I knew your body would be this beautiful," he murmured, sliding his arms around her waist.

  She tried to remember all the reasons why this was unwise, but with his hands caressing her bare back and his lithe body only inches away, it was difficult.

  "Do you have any idea how much I want you?" His warm mouth slid down her neck. "Seeing you every day and not being able to touch you like this has been driving me wild."

  She tried desperately to resist him, but her own desire was racing out of control. "This wasn't supposed to happen," she murmured hopelessly.

  "It was meant to be, my darling." He kissed each corner of her mouth tantalizingly, making her long to feel his mouth take deep possession of hers.

  Nicole's legs felt boneless. She reached out and gripped Philippe's shoulders for support. The flames inside her burned hotter when his hands cupped her breasts and his thumb circled the rosy tips erotically. With a tiny cry of pleasure, she flung her arms around his neck and pulled his head down to hers.

  "My lovely, passionate beauty," he said huskily. Philippe's gray eyes were incandescent as he surveyed her enraptured face for just an instant before his mouth closed over hers.

  Nicole quivered as he parted her lips for a deep kiss that left her clinging to him. While his tongue explored the warm, wet recesses of her mouth, his hands caressed her body sensuously. She shivered but didn't object when he eased her dress over her hips.

  Philippe took a step back to look at her, holding her arms out from her sides. She was a provocative sight in only sheer-to-the-waist panty hose, with the gown forming a silvery pool around her ankles.

  "You're so exquisite," he said in a ragged voice. "I want to find out what pleases you and bring you more joy than you've ever known." He swung her into his arms and carried her to the bed.

  When he joined her there, molding her body to the hard length of his own, Nicole moved against him seductively, letting her breasts trail enticingly across his bare chest.

  Philippe caught his breath and drew her hips against his so tightly that she could feel the intensity of his desire. "You do want me, don't you, my angel?"

  "Can't you tell?" she whispered.

  He buried his face in the scented cloud of her hair and said in a muffled voice, "I've dreamed about this night after night, and now my prayers are about to be answered."

  Nicole smiled enchantingly. "We must be in heaven. I can hear bells."

  "They're ringing out in celebration." His mouth closed over hers for a drugging kiss.

  Gradually, she realized that the telephone was ringing in Philippe's room. When it went on and on, she stirred restlessly. "Someone is trying to get you. Maybe it's important."

  "Nothing is more important than you, chérie." He scissored one leg over hers and dipped his head to kiss her breast.

  Nicole wasn't inclined to argue with him. She was raking her nails lightly down Philippe's bare back when there was a knock at the door.

  "Monsieur Galantoire?" a servant said tentatively.

  Philippe raised his head and scowled. "I'm busy at the moment," he called harshly. "Whatever it is will have to wait."

  "Yes, sir. I wouldn't have bothered you, but your mother is on the telephone."

  "Tell her I'll call her back."

  The man hesitated, caught between a rock and a hard place. "I suggested that, sir, but she said she would wait on the line until I found you."

  Philippe swore under his breath. "All right, but tell her she will have to wait." He smoothed Nicole's rumpled hair and said tenderly, "I'm sorry, darling. I promise this will never happen again."

  "It's all right," she murmured, sitting up and pulling the bedspread over her body.

  "You're more forgiving than I am," he commented wryly. "I'll see what she wants and be right back."

  "No, don't. Don't come back, I mean." Nicole's lashes brushed her flushed cheeks as she avoided looking at him. "This wasn't a good idea."

  "You don't mean that." He sat on the edge of the bed, facing her. "I don't blame you for being annoyed, but you can't let one little mishap spoil something beautiful between us."

  "What just happened was a mistake. I'll admit I was as much to blame as you were, but that doesn't change anything."

  "You didn't feel that way a few minutes ago."

  How could she deny it? Nicole's cheeks burned at the memory of her unrestrained response to him. "You're very persuasive," she murmured.

  "I didn't seduce you, Nicole," Philippe said evenly. "Be honest. You wanted me as much as I wanted you."

  "We both realize there is a strong physical attraction between us," she said, choosing her words carefully. "It's a simple matter of chemistry. It can affect people who don't even like each other."

  "At least we've established the fact that our— exchange of affection, shall we call it?—was mutual," he said sardonically. "Are you also saying that only sex was involved?"

  "What else could it
be? The only reason we're married is for Robbie's sake." She glanced at him through her lashes. "It isn't as though either of us wants to make a commitment."

  He gazed at her impassively. "You feel we'd be committed if we made love?"

  "I'm saying it would change our relationship," she answered hurriedly. "It's never a good idea to let personal issues cloud a business deal."

  "Perhaps we should draw up a contract," he drawled. "Just so there won't be any further misunderstandings."

  "I think we understand each other," she said steadily.

  "Yes, I suppose we do." He stood and looked down at her. "You don't have to worry that I'll test your willpower again. Now that I know how you feel, I'll be sure to knock next time."

  Nicole remained motionless, watching as Philippe strode through the connecting door to his room.

  She wanted desperately to call him back; her entire body still ached for him. If they hadn't been interrupted, she would be in his arms making love this very minute.

  It didn't take much imagination to know what that would be like. She'd already experienced the rush of excitement when their bodies merged and she felt his smooth, warm skin against her bare breasts. Philippe's response had equaled hers. The strength of his desire made her pulse race.

  She never would have been able to resist him on her own. Who would ever have thought she'd be grateful to Madame Galantoire for anything? Nicole thought ironically. The woman had done her a favor, though. Yes, Philippe could bring ecstasy, but at what cost?

  He didn't pretend to love her. But when he was arousing her to a fever pitch it was easy to forget they had no future together. How humiliating it would be if he discovered she'd fallen in love with him. It was useless to deny it any longer. But she had to be doubly careful from now on and never, ever let herself get into a situation like this again, Nicole told herself.

  Chapter Eight

  Philippe was in no mood to listen to his mother's recriminations. He told himself not to overreact, but she made it difficult.

  "Where on earth have you been, Philippe? I've been sitting here holding this receiver for an unforgivable amount of time!" she complained.

 

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