Wronged (Book 1) Page 28

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  Marian looked around the dinner table and watched her children chatting with Louis about their recent baseball game. For the first time in years, a man presided at the dinner table and a strange feeling had taken up residence in the pit of her stomach.

  She gazed at the dark-haired man, her eyes lingering on his mouth as she reflected on the brief kiss he’d given her. That kiss had left her sleepless for several nights as she remembered the feeling of his lips covering hers. His drugging, demanding kiss had left her knees trembling, her stomach fluttering, and her mind rioting with questions.

  “Momma, can we stay up until Mr. Fournet leaves?” Renee asked, bringing Marian back from the memory of Louis’s kiss.

  Marian glanced at Louis, wanting him all to herself.

  “We need to discuss some business after dinner, Renee, so I think you had better go up after dinner.”

  “But I’m not sleepy,” the child said.

  “Tonight is bath night, you will certainly be sleepy after that,” Marian said, knowing the child would be in bed asleep within minutes of getting out of the tub.

  “We’ll play ball again another day, Renee,” Louis said, soothing her daughter.

  “Do you play dolls?” she asked.

  Louis smiled. “I’ve never played dolls. You’ll have to show me.”

  “It’s not hard,” Renee informed him. “Even boys can do it.”

  “It’s a girl’s game and men don’t play with dolls,” Philip said, exasperated, clearly embarrassed by his sister.

  “You don’t know that!” Renee said, her voice filled with irritation.

  “Don’t forget your manners,” Marian said quietly. “You are at the dinner table.”

  Both children hushed, but when Renee thought Marian wasn’t looking, she stuck out her tongue at her brother.

  “Renee, one more and you’ll leave the table,” Marian warned.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  When they finished eating, Marian sent the children upstairs to the maids to help them with their baths, while she and Louis retired to the sitting room.

  “Would you like a brandy?” she asked Louis.

  “Thank you, yes,” he replied taking a seat on one of the small settees in the room.

  Marian poured him a brandy and herself a sherry and handed him his glass.

  She sat in a chair across from him, quietly studying him, knowing she needed to apologize for her outburst the other day, but not wanting to spoil the cozy atmosphere. She twisted the glass in her hand, suddenly feeling quite nervous. For the first time that day they were alone and she knew she could no longer postpone the apology.

  “Louis, before we start going over the figures, I need to apologize for my behavior the other night. I’m sorry for my outburst. I was wrong to accuse you of—of not telling me...”

  She ran out of words and sat back against her chair watching the way his eyes seemed to warm as she’d spoken.

  Louis’s mouth pulled taut and he shook his head. “No, Marian. I should have told you everything regarding the business. That’s why I brought over the newest figures tonight for you. I wanted you to see I’m honoring my promise to you.”

  She nodded and couldn’t help but smile. “You said you would do better, so I promise that I too will work harder to make our partnership succeed.”

  Louis leaned toward her, his hand reaching out and grasping hers. Just as he started to say something, Renee knocked on the door and called. “Momma, I’m all ready for bed.”

  Marian jumped up, startled by her daughter’s voice. There was no doubt that Renee had just taken the quickest bath ever for a small child. Marian took a deep breath, gazing at Louis, and then slowly rose. “I’ll return in just a few moments.”

  As she went out the door she took Renee by the hand, leading the child up the stairs, wishing somehow that her daughter hadn’t chosen that moment to come into the room. Wishing that Louis had finished his sentence. They walked into the child’s bedroom and Renee crawled into her bed. Marian leaned over and tucked her in.

  “Goodnight, Renee,” she said, kissing the child’s cheek.

  “Do you like Mr. Fournet?” Renee asked, hugging her mother close.

  “He’s my business partner, honey.”

  “Oh. Could he be our new Daddy if we asked him to?” she asked.

  “No, dear,” Marian replied, not wanting to go into any other details.

  “Why not? Doesn’t he like children?”

  Marian tried not to feel frustrated by her daughter’s questions. “Mr. Fournet likes children. But usually when people marry they're in love.”

  “Don’t you love him? Aunt Claire said we're supposed to love everyone.”

  “There are different kinds of love. Marriage requires a special kind of love. Now it’s time for you to go to sleep.”

  “Oh, all right. Night, Momma.” The little girl turned over and snuggled deeper into the covers.

  “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

  Next, Marian went to her son’s room and knocked on the door before she opened it. “I came to say goodnight,” she said, as she glanced at her boy.

  “Goodnight Momma,” he said, lying in bed, reading. “Go to sleep soon,” she reminded him.

  He nodded. “That was fun today with Mr. Fournet. Ask him to come back soon.”

  “I’ll ask him. Now get some sleep.”

  “Okay, goodnight.”

  “Goodnight.”

  She closed his door. Her children liked Louis and that gave her a warm feeling, but not warm enough to marry him, she thought with a smile. She hurried back down the stairs to her waiting guest.

  “Sorry; they’re in bed now. We shouldn’t be interrupted again.”

  “I’ll just go over these figures and then I’ll be on my way,” Louis said.

  “Would you like some more brandy?” she asked.

  “No, thank you.”

  She wanted to resume the atmosphere they had before she left the room. Somehow she wanted to hear what he had been about to say. She sat down in the chair, wishing she had the nerve to sit beside him on the settee.

  Her eyes lingered on his lips, remembering the feel of them against her own, wanting to taste them once more. She glanced away, trying to clear her head of her exciting thoughts. Their relationship was a business one, and yet her fantasies of him were more intimate and revealing than her dreams had been for many years. She had to stop this nonsense. If she continued she would be like a wanton woman for thinking of Louis this way.

  “Here are the latest numbers that I have,” he said handing her a balance sheet that showed a listing of debts and credits.

  The figures seemed to blur before her eyes as she breathed in the musky male scent of Louis as he leaned close. The image of him rolling up his shirtsleeves to play baseball with her children this afternoon came to mind and she blinked to clear her vision.

  “As you can see the new business is still down, but I’m confident that should correct itself soon,” Louis said.

  With a resigned sigh she leaned her head back against the chair. “I’m sorry for putting you through all this just to prove to me that everything is going well with the business. My worries have kept you from entertaining one of your lady friends tonight.”

  He sat back against the settee. “I don’t mind. I enjoyed playing with you and your children today.”

  “Well, I know that’s all they talked about while I was tucking them into bed. Renee was falling asleep as I closed the door. And Philip—I’ve been so worried about him—he told me he had a good time today.” She paused. “That’s twice you’ve done something really nice for my children. Thank you.”

  “I like kids.”

  “Then why aren’t you married with a couple of your own?” she asked.

  He shrugged and appeared ill at ease. “Just haven’t found anyone since my first wife died; I wanted to be with her forever.”

  Marian stared at Louis, not quite sure he was what he appeare
d to be. Yes, he reminded her of Jean, but he was different. Any man who truly wanted children like Louis proclaimed, would marry the first woman he found, would he not? What was the real reason he avoided marriage?

  “Tell me what was so special about your wife that you cannot find in another woman?” she asked. As soon as the words were out of her mouth she regretted them. “I’m sorry, it’s really none of my business, and I shouldn’t be asking you questions like this.”

  Louis gazed at her with a curious look upon his face. “No, I’m simply surprised. You’re the first woman who has ever asked.” He took a deep breath. “My wife and I grew up together. She was my best friend, and when I returned from college, I knew I wanted to marry her.” He reached for the brandy decanter that sat on the table between them and for a moment Marian feared he’d said everything he had to say about the subject. But then he continued.

  “We had a traditional wedding and lived at Belle Fournet, our family’s plantation. Six months after we married, Anne found she was expecting our child. We were so happy and she spent her time redecorating the old nursery.”

  As he sipped from his glass, his eyes became distant and filled with pain as he reminisced.

  “Anne was a small woman and when it came time for the baby to be born, she labored for two days before the baby came, stillborn.” He paused, glancing down at the amber liquid in his glass. “She never recovered. Eight hours later, I lost her too.”

  He took a big gulp of brandy. “I lost them both.” Marian sat there stunned, her heart aching for him, knowing his clipped speech was a result of the pain he still felt.

  He shook himself and sat up straighter on the settee. “I’m sorry, that wasn’t what you asked. You wanted to know how Anne was different from most women I meet.” He shifted around restlessly on the settee and then stood up. “Can’t really say.”

  “I shouldn’t have asked. It’s just that if you want more children, you should marry.”

  Staring at her over his brandy glass, his brows rose and he released a deep sigh.

  “Now you sound like my father. I don’t need someone else encouraging me to find a wife,” he said, his words resigned.

  Marian smiled, trying to ease the seriousness of their conversation. “I like your father. As for finding you a wife, I am the last person who would push or encourage anyone into marriage.”

  Louis laughed. “No, I think not.”

  The clock chimed nine o’clock and Louis drained the rest of his brandy and sat the glass down on the table. “It’s getting late, I’d best be going.”

  Marian felt a sense of disappointment. She’d enjoyed his company, though the hour was late.

  “I’ll walk you to the door,” she said.

  The afternoon had been fun and the time spent talking about the death of his wife had been revealing. She couldn’t remember a more enjoyable time spent with a man. She couldn’t remember a man who intrigued her more than Louis.

  They walked through the house, the ticking clock echoing through the stillness almost in rhythm with the sound of their shoes against the wooden floor.

  When they reached the door she glanced at his lips, so full, so inviting. If they kissed again, would it be the same as before or more breathtaking?

  She licked her lips, her mouth seeming to go dry, her lungs feeling as if they wouldn’t expand. She wanted him to kiss her. She wanted just once more to test if that wondrous feeling had been a mistake or if she really could experience passion once again. Maybe she wasn’t as immune to sexual ardor as she originally thought?

  “I enjoyed today,” he said gazing at her, his blue eyes dark.

  “Me, too. Thank you for helping Philip, and for bringing the beignets and the report.”

  He nodded. “My pleasure.”

  Louis took her hand and Marian felt dizzy with expectation. But then he touched his full lips to the back of her hand in a pleasant kiss that left her disappointed and tense with longing. She wanted so much more.

  Clearing her throat, she raised her chin in a haughty manner, so he wouldn’t realize her disappointment at the simple press of lips to the back of her hand.

  Her face felt stiff as she smiled.

  “Well then I guess I’ll see you back at the office tomorrow?” he said raising to his full height.

  “Yes, tomorrow,” she said breathlessly. “Yes. I’ll see you then.”

  He walked through the door and she closed it behind him with a lonely click.

  She leaned against the door and touched the back of her hand to her lips. What was wrong with her? The man was her partner and she had no business wanting to explore sensuous desires of the flesh with him.

  But then never before had she gazed deeply into a man’s eyes and wanted to feel his hard body beneath her hands. Or imagined how a man looked beneath his clothes and dreamed of him carrying her up the stairs and taking her.

  This fluttery breathless feeling of anticipation whenever Louis was around, she’d never experienced before. Frankly, it frightened her.

  She wanted to cry, but the tears had long ago dried up. Jean had obviously been repulsed at sharing her bed. What made her think Louis would find her any different?