Mistress for Hire (13 page)

She curled her hand around his, holding him close. Turning her head, she kissed his palm. “You’re not too bad yourself.”

He gave her a wry smile. “Even with this battered thing?”

“I like your nose. It gives you character. What happened?”

“Believe it or not, I had a bit of a temper as a youth.”

“No!” She teased him, running her finger from his forehead to the tip of his nose.

He captured her hand in his, taking her finger into his mouth, gently sucking the tip as he watched her.

With her quick intake of breath, a line of heat pulsed from her finger tip to between her legs.

Pinioning her arms beside her head, Gérard loomed over her before he kissed her. The world stopped with one kiss. He dipped down to her breasts, shoving the fabric back with his nose as he captured her breast with his mouth. Her lungs heaved for air as hard sucks brought her to the point of exquisite pain and pleasure. She whimpered and arched against him, but he wouldn’t release her. She spiraled tighter and higher as he moved to her other breast, blowing on the tight peak after laving it to a tight bud.

Nikki struggled against him, wanting to touch him, hold him. But he held her tight, mastering her, and it excited her all the more. His eyes glittered as he moved over her, switching his hands so he held both her wrists over her head with only one of his. The other hand pushed up her skirts and slid up her thigh in one swoop.

She gasped as he caressed her belly, dipping down further and further until his fingers tangled in her curls, stroking her moist cleft. Her head pushed back into the pillow as her legs opened.

“Look at me,” he demanded.

She met his storm-gray gaze as his thumb circled against her sweet bud and his fingers entered her. She cried out as she bucked against him, falling into his eyes, swirling in the love she saw there and soaring, open to him, body and soul.

Gérard loved watching her, the way her skin flushed and her peridot eyes flashed in the lamp light. The eyes that loved him, despite his brutishness. He wanted to do everything for her. Releasing her wrists, he pushed her skirts up farther, settled between her legs, and kissed her luscious essence.

“What are you doing?”

“What I’ve wanted to do for hours,” he replied as he pleasured her with his mouth, his tongue, his nose. Her legs trembled against his ears and he soothed them with his palms until she cried out again, bucking against him, grasping at his hair to pull him on top of her.

He sheathed himself inside her in one mighty stroke, both of them groaning at the beauty of it. The beast in him roared as he drove into her, needing all she could give him. She met him, stroke after magnificent stroke, each time fusing their bond tighter and tighter, moving as one being. On the very edge, he stopped, leaving her panting under him. He caressed her cheek, kissing her as their eyes met, letting her know how much he couldn’t say out loud.

“Don’t stop.”

I never will.
The thought rocked through him as he thrust his hips against hers. She cried out, her inner muscles rippling around him, and he tensed, holding himself back to absorb the amazing pleasure of the feel of her skin against him, the sweet smell of vanilla and musk, and the salty taste of sweat on her shoulder.

“Oh, Gérard.” She held him tight as he released into her, claiming her.

Chapter 15

Nikki rolled across the cold sheets, burrowing under the duvet. Loud purrs rumbled in her ear making her jump. Joan Jett’s yellow eyes blinked at her. The other side of the bed was empty.

Had it been a dream?

No, the inside of her thighs were wet.

Oh, God. Once again, they hadn’t used a condom.

“What is wrong with me? Do I have a death wish?” She directed her comments to the cat, who simply stretched and yawned. She threw back the covers and gasped at the spot of bright red blood on the stark white sheet. Regret and relief washed through her in equal measure. No pregnancy.

A knock sounded and before she could say anything, Gérard strode in, dressed and showered for the day. She pulled the sheet up, feeling at a clear disadvantage. Gérard’s face did not portray adoring lover. More like misused mogul. Her back stiffened.

He tossed a small velvet-covered jewelry box on the bed.

“It’s not a diamond, but it’s enough to fool McGowan when he noses around. And I’m sure he will.”

“Fool him into seeing what?” She opened the box to reveal a gold ring, topped with a large peridot, wreathed in pearls. Stunning. She shut the box and held it.

“That you’re mine and not to be trifled with. Don’t talk to him.”

“I understand.” She fingered the soft velvet under her fingers. She certainly
did
understand. He had put her in her place. Her instincts had been correct. The ring was not a token of commitment. Despite their connection last night, she was still someone to be manipulated according to the rules of Gérard Beauvais. And now he dared entangle her in the cover-up of the Milk for Africa business.

She held it out to him. “It’s not necessary. You’ve already announced I’m your fiancée. That should suffice.”

He sighed.

“Consider it an engagement ring.”

“Are you out of your mind?”

“Apparently so, as once again I failed to use a condom last night.” He stepped forward, gripping her shoulder.

She winced, unable to meet his eyes. She was just a mistake—a burden to be shouldered.

She shrugged away from him as she slid off the bed, displaying the stained bottom sheet. “You have nothing to worry about.”

He gripped the back of his neck as he stared at the blood stain. She fled to the bathroom and locked the door behind her.

Gérard paced the aisle of the private jet, his thoughts in a jumble. He couldn’t eat. He couldn’t sleep. He’d been gone three weeks, jetting to London, New York, Atlanta, and several points in between. He’d stopped by Sanford’s farm and they’d hammered out their problems, without the benefit, or hindrance, of lawyers and translators.

“I thought you were going to bring that gal with you. It was good to talk to her last week.” The toothpick in Sanford’s mouth bobbed as he spoke.

His head went up. “Last week?”

“Yep. When she called to smooth things over. I was ready to sic the dogs on you, until she straightened things out. Gotta give her credit. Maybe ya oughta give her a raise or somethin’.”

Or something, he thought. He shook his head, figuring how she’d maneuvered the meeting. And saved a bundle of money. And his reputation in the States.

He needed to get back home. He needed to see her. His gut had felt like stone ever since he’d left Paris. He’d been lying to himself all along that it was just sex. It was so much more.

Damn it
.

When he’d seen her blood on the bed, anger had surged within him. An irrational anger that he no longer had any tie to her. Nothing tangible to bind them together. He hadn’t used a condom and he hadn’t thought about it, because deep down he wanted her bound to him in a way that could never be broken. He stopped, staring out the tiny windows into nothingness.

He loved her.

Nikki boxed up four
macarons
in a little white pastry box and tied it with a string. One each of the four flavors she had helped make. She hoped Gérard enjoyed her first baking effort from the shop. He had returned a week early. Her heart had soared on seeing him exit the car in the dark courtyard. Her Viking, battle weary, with bleary eyes and heavy morning stubble.

“How did it go?”

Gérard’s hand ran through his already mussed hair. “Thanks to you, Sanford is back with us. Why didn’t you tell me?”

She shuffled her feet. “I had to do something. Louisa called and said Sanford wanted to straighten things out. Since I’m the one who’d worked so closely with him, besides you of course, she called me. So I called him.” The words tumbled out of her mouth. The bakery felt like an outpost after the international bustle of the office. And unfortunately, Gérard had been right. The mass production of pastry was like being on the factory floor back at Gorman’s Fine Foods. She missed the excitement and stimulation of Beauvais Investments. And, oh, how she had missed Gérard.

He gave her a tired smile. “Thank you. And the company thanks you.”

She puffed up, feeling inordinately proud of herself.

“Where are you going at this hour?”

“To the pâtisserie, remember?”

“Ah, the garden of earthly delights.”

Their gazes locked and the air seemed suddenly redolent with musky flesh and hints of vanilla. He stepped forward and brushed the back of his knuckles across her temple.

“Do you want me to stay?” She would have cast aside her whole day at one word from him.

“No.” He gave her a faint smile. “I need some sleep, and with you here . . . that wouldn’t happen.”

The hesitation in his voice told her how exhausted he truly was. She stretched up on tiptoes to kiss his cheek, but he turned his head, capturing her mouth with his. The kiss was soft, sweet, and dare she think, loving. How wonderful it would be to snuggle up and sleep the morning away, something they’d never done.

His fingers grazed her cheek as he whispered against her mouth. “Bring me back a treat.”

Now, with the sun casting a feeble warmth over the chilly sidewalk, Nikki practically skipped toward home. No, Gérard’s townhouse. How easily she thought of it as home now. She would sit on his lap and feed him the
macaron
morsels. And he could show his appreciation. She giggled. They could start over. Put this whole contract/mistress/pregnancy stuff behind them and start fresh. Making love and talking about their days, like normal couples did.

Her cell phone vibrated in her back pocket, startling her and making her stumble over the curb. She stared at the incoming number, then reluctantly answered it.

“Nikki. Sweetie.”
Jessica
. Finally, they could get down to the bottom of this mess and she and Gérard could truly have a clean slate between them.

“Where are you? I’ve been trying to find you for weeks.”

“Here! In Paris. I hear congratulations are in order.”

“About what?”

“You and Gérard! Your engagement. It’s been three weeks and you didn’t tell me?”

“How could I?” Nikki’s whole body went cold. The picture of Nikki and Gérard kissing, plus the gossip of their engagement, had made every tabloid in the city, along with several websites. The lie seemed to be circling the globe, as the last time Nikki checked Jessica’s blog her sister was in Australia protesting the expansion of the coal industry.

“Well, come tell me about it, now.” After quickly giving her a restaurant name and directions, Jessica disconnected.

Nikki’s head reeled as she made her way to the Metro. Colin McGowan had called her yesterday. And she’d hung up on him. After all the messages she’d left on her sister’s voice mail, now she called her—after a reporter’s probing. Something was definitely going on.

She debated phoning Gérard to go with her, but decided against it. He’d been very tired, and she needed to give Jessica the benefit of the doubt. Maybe this had absolutely nothing to do with Milk for Africa. Her gut told her otherwise. And if it did, she would have a better chance of convincing Jessica not to talk to the press if she were alone. Unless Jessica already
had
talked to McGowan and they’d concocted something.

Her stomach rolled and she clenched her fingers against her mouth as bile rose in her throat. She took deep breaths to calm down. She would get this all sorted out and let Gérard do what he thought best in the end.

She dug the peridot ring out of her jeans pocket and put it on her finger where it sparkled in the dim light of the subway. As she twirled the gem back and forth with her thumb, she wondered at Gérard’s motives. He’d left the ring on her bed the fateful morning her period started. As if it were a gift—for services rendered or relief from responsibility, she wasn’t sure.

He had left instructions with Marco to take her to
Madame
Guiscard’s, who had put her to work. Salary Euros appeared in an envelope in her bedroom every week. After the first week of hard, back-breaking work in a heat-filled kitchen, Nikki realized she wasn’t living her dream—but Mimi’s. The dream Mimi had created with all her stories of working at the pâtisserie alongside Emmaline Guiscard. Nikki enjoyed it, but didn’t feel the calling, the longing she’d had before she came to Paris. She thought more of Gérard and how she could help him feed the world.

She sighed, her breath fogging the window. He didn’t need her help anymore, except maybe with this stupid mess her sister had created. Once that was solved, he would probably have nothing to do with her. She closed her eyes and leaned her head against the glass. Romantic fantasies of Gérard sweeping her up in his arms and twirling her across a ballroom danced in her head. A rose withering under glass, only to be refreshed when the young lady declares her love for the beast. Nikki snorted and a matronly passenger shot her an odd look.
Get the fairytale out of your head.
She stepped off the train into the damp, fetid atmosphere of the underground station.

Jessica waved her over with black-polished nails and flashes of silver rings on every finger. Her sister had dyed her natural blond hair to flat black and cut the waves into chunky spikes. With the odd hair and green eyes rimmed in kohl, Jessica looked like a fading pop star. The creature jumped up and hugged her hard, smacking each cheek with a loud kiss. She hugged her back. As aggravating as her sister could be, she still loved her.

“Man, I’m glad to see you.” Jessica immediately poured her a glass of wine from a bottle already half empty. “You look good, sis.”

Nikki avoided the wine and asked the passing waiter for water. “And you look strange,” she said as she turned her attention back to her sister. Before Jessica answered, Nikki blurted out, “You were supposed to meet me six weeks ago. At the train station.”

“Oh come on, baby sister. You’ve been able to take care of yourself since you were nine.” Jessica waved a dismissing hand at her. “I told you I might not be able to make it.”

“You told me you might be late. I figured a couple hours, not six weeks.”

Jessica shrugged. “Something important came up.”

Nikki leaned across the table, clenching the edge so she wouldn’t strangle her sister. “Don’t you think family is a little more important than one of your causes?” She didn’t know why she was getting so upset. It had happened so many times before, including no-shows at Christmases and birthdays, with the explanation somebody else needed her more. Mimi had always given her a hug and said, “She’s right, you know. There’s a lot of suffering in this world and she’s helping alleviate a little of it.” Nikki sat back at the sudden memory, tears springing to her eyes.

“Hey, that’s not fair. Don’t cry. Oh, come on, Nikkers.” Jessica looked miserable and Nikki immediately regretted her selfishness.

“It’s okay.” She dabbed at her eyes with a paper napkin. “I was remembering Mimi and how she would console me when you didn’t show up.”

“I’m sorry, baby. I really am.” Jessica reached over and gave her a light punch on the arm. “Hey, if I had shown up, you wouldn’t be sitting pretty with Gérard Beauvais. You’re engaged, right?”

Nikki shook her head, but the word
Yes
popped out of her mouth. Jessica looked puzzled and Nikki didn’t blame her, but she suddenly realized admitting the truth would make Gérard look bad. “I’m still having trouble getting used to it.”
No kidding.

The waiter returned with her water and took their order, even though she wasn’t a bit hungry. When the waiter left, she gestured to her sister’s outfit. “Why in heaven’s name are you dressed like a punker?”

Jessica gave her a big smile, making her look like herself again. “I’m undercover,” she whispered.

Nikki felt her eyes go wide. “What? How could you get a job with the French police?”

Jessica batted her question down. “No. No. With a non-profit organization. We’re investigating child kidnappings and child pornography around the world.”

“I thought you were in Australia?”

“That’s just a ruse to put people off the trail.”

“Are you out of your mind?” Her voice rose in a screech as Jessica made shushing noises. “It’s one thing to stand in front of a Japanese whaling ship for the rights of dolphins, but this is just nuts.”

“I know what I’m doing. We’re very organized. Safe houses and all that sort of thing.”

“Jessica! This is for the professionals.” Nikki’s mind raced, trying to think of what she could tell her sister to dissuade her from this foolishness. “Let me talk to Gérard about this. Surely, he knows organizations you can get involved with where you’re in the thick of things. Legitimate organizations that leave the dirty work to the police.”

“He’s the one who got me into this.”

“What?”

The waiter appeared with their soup and both women waited tensely until he went away.