Sudden Legacy (8 page)

Mr. Martin was at the table with Pops when we got back to the house. He graced us with a rather annoyed expression. “Was I not very clear about the conditions of our agreement? You are to stay within the designated area.”

Julien’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “I have. I never left the property.”

Martin paused a moment before answering, as if trying to gather patience for a slow pupil. “Our associates ask that you remain in the
immediate
area. You should confine yourself to the house and yard. I don’t relish a hike through the woods to collect you. Do you think you can handle that? It shouldn’t be more than two more days or so.”

I had forgotten that Julien’s time here was limited. I didn’t like Martin putting an expiration date on it. Two days. What would happen at the end of those two days? Would Julien want to stay involved with Alex? I couldn’t silence the small voice in the back of my mind that dared to ask... would he want to stay involved with
me
?

“Of course. My apologies for the misunderstanding.” Julien seemed rather accommodating and I couldn’t help but wonder if perhaps Martin was more dangerous than I originally assumed. He left after a few terse exchanges in their special pidgin language. Julien shrugged off my questioning expression and turned to Pops. “Where has Alex gotten off to?”

Pops hadn’t failed to notice the tension between Martin and Julien either. “Nan has taken him to run a few errands. I didn’t know how long you two would be gone.”

Nan had cleaned the kitchen in our absence. I felt a little guilty about that, remembering the spectacular mess we had left behind. We stood in the kitchen awkwardly shifting our weight from one foot to the other. I didn’t know what to do with my hands, so I crossed my arms, then I felt self conscious about looking too ‘closed off’, so I uncrossed them and tucked my thumbs in to the front pockets of my jeans. Julien rested his hip against the counter, equally unsure of what to say. Would this awkward tension between us ever end?

Pops shook his head in regrettable resignation. “I have to run over to the Johnson’s and help Bill clear some brush from the firebreak. If the wind shifts, that fire will be heading our way.” He looked from me to Julien and back again. “Can I trust the two of you to stay out of trouble while I’m gone?”

I thought I felt myself blushing at his obvious meaning, which only made me all the more mortified, causing me to blush even deeper. My affinity for blushing in this never-ending cycle would surely end with me bursting a blood vessel in my face at some point. Was that even possible? Probably.

Pops pursed his lips at my scarlet hue. “Your grandmother should be back any minute.”

I nodded my understanding and walked him to the door, watching as his truck rumbled down the drive and out of sight. We were alone, if only for a minute. I tried not to acknowledge the increase in my heart rate.

Julien cleared his throat in an attempt at sounding casual. “What does Alex like to do for fun?”

Fun. There was that word again. Suddenly I was annoyed.

“He’s two. Everything he does, he does for fun,” I said.

Julien was taken aback by my sharp tone and sudden change of mood. “I only meant... What do you like to do together?” He looked so confused and wary. I couldn’t help softening towards him. My hormones were on a roller coaster and I felt a pang of guilt at forcing Julien along for the ride. I took a deep breath. “I’m sorry,” I said as I crossed back into the kitchen. “I guess I’m a little sensitive. He likes the usual stuff; cars, trains... Anything that moves, really.”

The phone gave a shrill ring, startling me.

“Hello?”

“Hi sweetheart.” It was Nan. “I just wanted to give you guys a head’s up. I ran in to Margie at the market and we’re going to stop for a bite of lunch. There’s sandwich fixings in the fridge when Pops gets hungry.”

“Oh. He’s over at the Johnson’s clearing the firebreak.”

I could hear the giddy smile in Nan’s voice. “Oh is he? Well, I guess you’re on your own for a while then. I wont be back until Alex’s naptime. Maybe later – you know how excited he gets playing at Margie’s.”

Nan was incorrigible.

“You are subtle as ever, Nan.”

I set the phone back in its cradle. “That was Nan. She’s going to be longer than expected.”

Julien nodded slowly. He looked contemplative, as if he were weighing something in his mind. I could feel the atmosphere changing in the room. “Uh... Are you hungry?” He shook his head, slowly closing the distance between us. He moved with a feline grace.

“We have unfinished business, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Our issue with Marla?” I felt my hackles rise as I said her name. His eyes hardened and his mouth tightened. “No. Not that. She has no business here with us, right now. I will deal with her later.” He stopped right in front of me. He was standing way too close for me to pretend I didn’t know what he was intending. “I am referring to our conversation of last night. Before we were interrupted.” He gently tucked a stray curl that had fallen from my ponytail behind my ear with his index finger. I shivered at the light touch.

I backed up, but only made it one step before coming up against the counter. He followed me, keeping so close I had no choice but to breathe in the air he was breathing out. Every cell in my body was chanting
yes yes yes!
But somehow, as if operating of it’s own accord, my hand came up and settled firmly on his chest. “Julien. We shouldn’t... We have a lot of things to work out.”

“
Oui
, we do.
This
is not one of them,” he said huskily as he took my hand from his chest and kissed the inside of my wrist. His tongue licked a searing streak across my pulse point, inexplicably causing my knees to begin to quiver.

He set my hand atop his shoulder as if I were half embracing him, and then he cradled my jaw in his warm hand. “I am going to kiss you now, Lara.”

My lips parted in a tiny gasp as butterflies invaded my stomach. If he kissed me I was lost. What would become of me when he left in two days? I didn’t think I could bear the heartbreak of losing him again. Last time I had anger to quell the hurt. This time I would have nothing; nothing but the knowledge that I wasn’t enough for him.

“Julien...” I could only manage a whisper.

Leaning down, he slowly brushed his lips back and forth across mine. The feather light touch robbed me of breath, and sent fireworks off in every one of my nerve endings. He pressed closer, deepening the kiss. His hand slid around to the back of my head and he threaded his fingers into my hair, loosening my ponytail. His other hand wrapped around my waist to the small of my back.

Suddenly, I was alive again. Without realizing it, I had been a zombie, going about my daily life half numb. Only now was I truly awake for the first time in nearly three and a half years. I had forgotten how amazing this could be. I remembered it being good, but even my most generous memory paled in comparison to the reality.

Julien ran his tongue across my bottom lip, urging me to open for him.
“S'il te plaît, ma chérie, laisse moi dedans.”
I had no idea what he said, but I knew exactly what he meant. I couldn’t deny him access to my mouth any more than I could deny him access to my heart, and I parted my lips, knowing full well that this very moment would be the moment I would lament later. The moment I let my hard earned armor drop, and I allowed myself to indulge in the fantasy that Julien wanted me again. Not just as a distraction. Not just as a tool with which to make his lover jealous. Just for himself.

He moaned, sliding his tongue against mine and sending shock waves reverberating through my lower abdomen. I think I whimpered. I’m not proud of that, but there it was. A whimper; a loud proclamation of weakness. He sagged against me in apparent relief, mumbling in French and dropping kisses on my closed eyelids. “You see? You feel this too. Your body cannot lie to me,
Chérie
.” He pressed his forehead to mine and held me against him, our breath mingling. At first his eyes were closed, then he opened them and stared straight into mine. He was so close that he looked like a Cyclops. I pulled back a fraction of an inch until his face came into focus. His gaze never left mine. His eyes were unnaturally bright. He looked confused and sorrowful and maybe just a little bit smug.

“Why?” he asked. “Why did you leave me?”

My brows knit.
What?
What was he talking about? Reading the confusion on my face he elaborated on his question. “In France. I begged you to stay. Why didn’t you?”

I shook my head. “Julien. I couldn’t. You knew I couldn’t. I had to get back home-” He cut me off with another heated kiss. This one was more demanding. This time he was relentless - teasing, and coaxing a response from my more than willing body. Just as I was losing all ability to form a coherent thought he pulled away quickly and held my face between his hands, forcing me to look at him. We were both panting with arousal.

“I ask again, why? Why did you leave?”

I just stared at him, trying to catch my breath. Then, finally, “Julien, it wasn’t that simple. I-” He growled and kissed me again. My heart was slamming against my chest. My stomach flipped as I felt his hand run under the fabric of my shirt. He cupped my breast over my bra and swallowed my moan as my nipple hardened against the palm of his hand. I pressed against him, craving the solid feel of his embrace. “It
is
‘that simple’” he said against my lips. “What could be more simple than this?”

His hands clamped down on my hips and he lifted me onto the counter, never breaking our kiss. I scooted forward till I was perched on the edge, wanting to be as close to him as possible. He trailed kisses down my neck, licking and nipping along the way until he reached the hollow at the base of my throat.

Then he stopped.

He stayed perfectly still, his head resting against my chest, no doubt listening to my racing heartbeat. We stayed that way for a long moment, neither of us moving. Finally I broke the silence. “Julien?”

He answered me without moving. “
Sí?
”

I needed to see his eyes. I felt at a great disadvantage not being able to see his face. “Will you look at me please?”

Slowly he raised his head until we were face to face. He looked defeated. Tired. “What is it?” I asked.

“I am conflicted.”

I waited for him to continue. He pushed away from the counter and paced to the center of the kitchen, then turned to face me again, running his hands through his hair in a show of frustration. “You have hated me for three and a half years, yes?”

I nodded and started to defend myself but he stopped me with a gesture. “I understand. You thought I had willingly abandoned you along with my child.” I nodded again. He narrowed his eyes in thought, as if trying to decide how best to phrase his next question. “And now that you know the truth - well, in so much as I didn’t even know about Alex - How do you feel about me? Do you still hate me? Is there still anger there?”

I opened my mouth to say of course I didn’t hate him, but nothing came out. I closed my mouth again and frowned. He was right. Under all of the crazy things jockeying for shelf space in my brain, I still felt anger toward him. I had been carrying these feelings around for so long, it was second nature.

He smiled in understanding. “It is all right,
Chérie
. I understand. I have anger too.”

He was angry? With me? “Why?” My voice was so soft it was almost a whisper.

“For leaving. For keeping my son from me...”

I was quick to point out to him, “But I didn’t keep him from you! I told you I was pregnant-”

He held up his hands to placate me. “I know, I know. You tried to tell me. And you thought you had been successful in relaying that information. But you weren’t. You weren’t, and because you weren’t, I missed out on the first years of my child’s life. It is upsetting, yes, but it isn’t your fault any more than it is my fault you thought you had been abandoned. So I am conflicted, you see.”

I nodded, not because I understood, but rather to encourage him to continue.

“We are both angry about things neither of us had any control over. So even though
rationally
we know it doesn’t make sense, still, those feelings of anger are there. That is why trying to apply rational thought to matters of the heart is so futile.”

“So how is it that you are conflicted?” I asked. I could hear the edge in my voice. I wasn’t as calm as I seemed.

“Because even through my anger, I want you. There is still this... passion between us. This chemistry. It is like nothing I have known before. You feel it - don’t try to deny that you feel it. It is obvious even to the casual observer.”

I started to shake my head. His eyes flashed and he stilled my denial with three words. “Marla saw it.”