One Night With You- April in Paris

by Taisha Demay

  He chuckled. “I don’t know about that. I think you put too much pressure on yourself. You just need to relax, and let things be what it’ll be.”

  “I know that now,” she agreed. She’d never been this happy in her life and hoped it would never end.

  Chapter 7

  His mouth explored her skin hungrily, trapping the pulse thudding at the base of her throat. His intensity half frightened and excited her. She could feel the clamorous response of her blood at his words. “Marry me, April—I want you to be my wife,”

  Jean-Luc whispered. “I want you, body, mind and soul.” Kissing the hollow of her neck again. “I didn’t tell you this, but, when I saw you with your ex, I wanted to kill him, to tear him apart limb from limb. That’s when I realized I truly and desperately wanted you with me, and I never wanted to let you go.”

  Then his mouth claimed hers, the feelings he’d described were those of an obsession,

  an intensity. She ached for him to touch and caress her, while she gave herself

  completely to him. She did love him with all of her heart. Soon, they did away with all

  barriers between them, and when she lay naked in his arms, his fingers began stroking

  while his lips trailed kisses along her thigh, caressing her until he reached the soft, female core, making her whimper the moment he touched it with his tongue, licking and devouring with his mouth, continuing until she cried out, and her body shook with orgasm.

  He slid into her warmth, moving slowly before increasing his pace, her body twisting and threshing sensually, trying to match the fierce rhythm of his; a wild storm rocked them both, and soon, pleasure exploded within them in convulsive waves and Jean-Luc cried out her name in primeval possession, his arms enfolding her as passion subsided, and she floated back down to earth. She couldn’t remember ever having felt so wanted, so loved before Jean-Luc, experiencing complete pleasure and satisfaction in his arms.

  Moving away from her briefly, he returned with something in his hand; she realized it was a small square box. Lifting the lid, it revealed a 14K rose-gold stacking ring. Removing it, he slid it on her finger.

  “Now, it’s official, we’re engaged.” Bringing her hand up to his lips, he kissed it.

  April gazed at the ring on her finger, whatever she expected to happen, it wasn’t this.

  Well, she expected it, but not this soon. “It’s beautiful,” she whispered.

  “I’m glad you like it,” he said while climbing back in bed beside her. “I wanted this moment to be special for you, but I couldn’t think of what until Madeline mentioned this cabin.”

  She nodded. “That’s when you decided to bring me here?”

  “Yes. And now, that you’re about to become my wife, we need to start preparing to get the license.”

  “How long will it take?”

  “Barring any issues, ten days. The process typically takes at least four weeks. But since both of us aren’t French, we may have limited choices as to which day we can get married; but prepare to be flexible, cheri.”

  Now that it was happening, she could admit to herself that it was real. She was engaged to a man she loved with her whole being. She gambled on remaining here, and she won, now a whole new life awaited her, and for some reason,

  she couldn’t quite believe it was real.

  The next morning, after finishing her coffee, April poured herself a second cup, returning to the bedroom. Jean-Luc was still asleep, she noticed he scowled in his sleep, thinking she had never seen a more beautiful sight in her life.

  Sitting the cup down on the nightstand, she walked over to the window and pulled the curtains apart to let in the morning light, such as it was. The sun was hidden under dark gray clouds heavy with the threat of rain. When she turned away from the window, she saw Jean-Luc was staring at her.

  “Is that coffee I smell, or is that wishful thinking?”

  “It’s on the nightstand next to you.”

  He levered himself up into a sitting position and leaned against the headboard, running his fingers through his hair, before reaching for the cup. After taking a swallow, he rested the cup on his sheet covered thigh and looked up at her. “You make good coffee.”

  “Why does that surprise you?”

  “It doesn’t, it’s just that most women don’t like it this strong.” He patted the mattress beside his hip. “Come and sit down. You’re too far away.”

  April complied, stepping back over to the bed, stopping beside it. “Is that better?”

  “No.” He took hold of her wrist and tugged, forcing her to sit down. “This is better.” His eyes never left her face as he brought the cup to his mouth again. Her hair hung in disarray around her face. The robe she wore was parted slightly in front, and he could

  see a glimpse of her breasts.

  Finishing the coffee, he set the mug on the table. He raised one knee and laid his arm across it as he continued to watch her. “I love you, April.”

  She smiled at him. “I love you too.”

  He reached out and touched the side of her face. “I love how your skin feels like hot satin. The soft sounds you make when I kiss you on your neck, the way you move against me while we make love.”

  “Mmm...” She shifted until she was halfway across his lap, her back against his knee. His hand applying pressure behind her head as his lips claimed hers. His tongue sought the essence of her moist mouth, fingers delving into her hair. The extent of his hunger was powerful and seductive, luring her into an immediate response. A soft moan came from deep inside her as he pulled her against him. His kiss, demanding and sweet, took her breath away, and she felt drowsy in sensuality.

  Pushing her robe away, he parted her thighs and thrust deep inside her, his breath ragged, their bodies fused together, and with one final thrust, their world splintered and shattered around them. It was a long time before either of them felt like moving. They just laid there listening to the soft, melting sounds of their breathing. Their love broke all restraints, and they were going to spend the rest of their lives together.

  “Oh my God. Congratulations!” Donna exclaimed the moment April announced she and Jean-Luc were engaged.

  “Thanks.”

  Donna frowned. “Why do you not sound happier? You’re supposed to be floating on cloud nine. What’s going on, don’t you love him?”

  “With all my heart,” she replied.

  “Then what’s the problem?”

  “While we were together I couldn’t help thinking it was all too good to be true,” April told her, anxiety coursing through her veins.

  “Of course, it feels that way, everyone experiences a little apprehension, I know I did. But, you have nothing to worry about,” Donna assured her.

  Banishing the thoughts, April decided to switch topics. “What’s going on there in town, any new gossip?”

  “Miss Jennings was caught in the broom closet with Principle Gordon. Now, his wife wants a divorce,” her friend informed her.

  April shook her head. “Wow. You do realize there was speculation about that since last year, but nothing concrete was ever proven.”

  “Until now.”

  “Obviously. Boy, I miss being there,” she sighed.

  “I don’t know why, you aren’t missing anything. We haven’t had much excitement since that serial arsonist three years ago,” Donna pointed out.

  Her mind went back to the time when the town was gripped in terror due to a man who called himself ‘Pyro’ was setting random fires around town. Every business owner including herself wondered if they would be his next target. Thankfully, the man perished in a fire he set himself.

  “That’s true.”

  “Getting back to the wedding. Have you set a date?” Donna asked.

  “We’ve talked about it, but haven’t decided on anything concrete.” Since returning from their trip they’d both been busy—he with the bakery and her with her shop. The grand opening was in less than a week, and her anxiety was at an all-ti
me high.

  “Have you made any new friends since you’ve been there?”

  “Are you kidding me? When have I had the time?” April replied. She’d been pretty much on autopilot since arriving over two months ago.

  “Well, you’d better make time, or you’ll go crazy.”

  A knock on the door interrupted her response. “Hold on Donna, someone’s at the door.”

  Getting up from the computer, April went to the door, twisted the handle and pulled it open to see a red-haired woman who looked to be in her mid to late fifties, dressed in

  a green and white floral house dress. “If you’re looking for Jean-Luc, he’s still at the bakery,” she said in French.

  “Oh no, I don’t want him. It’s you I need,” she replied, before shoving blue silky material at her.

  Furrowing her brow, April held it up and discovered it was a dress, homemade from the looks of it. She looked back at the woman and asked, “What would you like me to do with this?”

  That was when the woman immediately burst into tears, muttering something about wanting to surprise her granddaughter with a prom dress.

  “Um, it’s alright. I believe I can help you,” she replied, gently taking the woman’s hand, whose name she learned was Collette, and helped her over to the couch, before returning briefly to the computer to tell Donna she’d talk to her later.

  After brewing a kettle of tea, she sat down beside Collette and used what little French she knew to assure her there was nothing to worry about, and she would fix the dress. It was strange that she and Donna were just discussing meeting new people and making friends, and this woman appears at her door. It took longer than she’d expected; the dress needed a lot more work than she realized, but she managed nevertheless and made an old woman very happy.

  “I understand from Mrs. Benois that you’re a lifesaver,” Jean-Luc said, while they were settling down for the evening.

  “You heard about that, huh?” April replied, pulling the nightshirt over her head and down over her body. “She came to me in a panic, so I helped her. Trust me when I say, I’m used to helping folks in distress.”

  “Well, you certainly did her a favor. I believe you’ve made a friend for life.”

  April shrugged, before climbing into bed and into the circle of his arms. “So, how was your day? Was it as exciting as mine?”

  He chuckled. “Not quite. Although, I tried a new bread recipe.”

  She raised her head to look at him. “What kind?”

  “It was made with rosemary. I suppose it went off well; there were no complaints.”

  “Then that’s good, right?”

  “I hope so. We’ll see,” he replied, kissing the top of her head.

  They talked for an hour longer until April was the first one to drift off to sleep, and Jean-Luc cut the light off.

  After the initial protest from April which Jean-Luc and Nail ignored, the work was shared among them. When the delivery trucks pulled up in front of the store, Jean-Luc carried the crates and boxes to the storeroom, stacking them the way April instructed. He helped set up the bolts of assorted material along the wall, pricing each of them, refusing to let her carry anything remotely heavy, or climb a short ladder to put things on the higher shelves, seeming to enjoy helping her organize things.

  The day of the grand opening of One Stitch at a Time Un Point à La Fois was a warm sun-filled day and happened with very little fanfare. Although Jean-Luc couldn’t be present, he sent her a bouquet of roses and Aunt Madeline her best wishes. She had a total of four employees and hoped once the word got around that the shop was open, there would be plenty of customers. After a week, there wasn’t.

  “I don’t know what I did wrong?” April said sadly. “I had flyers printed and even placed an ad in the newspaper complete with coupons and still had no customers.”

  “Relax, you’re the new kid on the block, it'll take time. Just be patient,” Donna told her. “Remember when we opened here, it took us two months to build a steady stream of clients.”

  April smiled. “Our first customer was choir director, Mrs. Bixby, wanting us to make robes for over two-dozen members.”

  Donna made a face. “Yeah, and they were the most hideous things I’d ever seen, they were the color of slime.”

  “True, but at least the check cleared.”

  “Cheer up, things will pick up, you’ll see.”

  “I certainly hope so,” April sighed. “I don’t know how I’m going to pay back the money I borrowed.”

  “I’m sure Jean-Luc isn’t in the least bit worried about that. He knows you’re good for it, otherwise, he would have never offered to invest in it.”

  She smiled. “You always know just what to say to make me feel better about being a failure.”

  “Would you stop! You are not a failure,” Donna admonished. “You just need to concentrate on something else, like the wedding preparations. How are they coming along?”

  April groaned. “They’re not. I’ve been so busy with getting this shop off the ground I’ve done exactly zilch.”

  She and Jean-Luc had decided on an October wedding since it’s when they first met.

  “Then hire a wedding planner,” her friend suggested.

  “Please, my funds are down to a trickle. There’s no way I could pay anybody.”

  “You can always use the money we put away?”

  Hearing this, April frowned. “No! That’s for emergencies for the shop in case it’s needed.”

  Donna pursed her lips. “Isn’t making sure you can get married considered one?”

  “I suppose,” April conceded.

  “Then it’s settled, I’ll wire the funds to you first thing tomorrow morning. No argument, it’s my call.”

  “Yes, Mother,” she replied dryly.

  “Now, about the dress…”

  They talked for another hour before Donna had to go take care of her family. She enjoyed chatting with her friend. She cherished the degree of honesty and frankness they shared. She had always been able to talk to her friend, and could always count on her as a confidante. Her friend was right, business did finally begin to pick up a few days later.

  It was an ordinary day, and they had a steady flow of customers. Just when she thought it couldn’t be any more eventful than it was, someone April never expected to see in a million years walked through the door, it was Adrian Babineaux, the Duke of Candor. Immediately, she could see the resemblance between him and Jean-Luc. Except, instead of dark blond hair, the uncles was jet black. This must have been what his mother looked like. A tall, imposing-looking man, he was accompanied by two men, who she assumed were his security detail.

  “Puis-Je Cous aider, Can I help you?” she asked in French.

  “I can speak English,” he informed her.

  April breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m glad because my French isn’t that great; I’m just learning.”

  “You’re April Hill, Jean-Luc’s fiancée.” It wasn’t a question but a statement.

  “That’s right, and you’re his uncle,” she replied.

  Adrian took in his surroundings. “Nice place you have here.”

  “Thank you, I think so. What can I do for you?”

  “I think you know.”

  She furrowed her brow, confused. “No, I don’t.”

  He turned to face her. “I need you to get my nephew to talk to me.”

  “Now, how would I do that exactly?”

  “Is there somewhere private we can talk, away from all these witnesses?”

  “Yeah sure, we can go to my office.”

  Turning, April headed toward the back, once they were there, she gestured for him to have a seat on the tan leather sofa, while she sat behind her desk.

  “Alright, why don’t you enlighten me on how we can get a man, who obviously hates you, to listen to anything you have to say?”

  Leaning forward, Adrian spoke. “I was never an active presence in Jean-Luc’s life while he was growing up.
>
  She nodded. “You would like to change that?”

  “Yes. Can you help me?” his tone was hopeful.

  “I don’t know. I’ll see what I can do, but I’m not making any promises. But, I have one question, why now?”

  Adrian shrugged. “The loss of my wife for one, and two, I realize now that I’d like to rectify the mistakes I’ve made and one of them is getting to know my nephew.”

  “When I discovered the two of you were related, I asked him why he never mentioned it;

  he told me because you were never a constant presence in his life. And, I gotta tell you, Mr. Babineau—”

  “Adrian, please.”