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Wronged (The Cuvier Widows Book 1) Page 6
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Louis stepped around the desk, took her chair and whirled her around to face him. He grasped her forearms and roughly pulled her to her feet and toward him until she stood just inches away. Her lips glistened, tempting him not to hesitate, but to do the deed.
“Really, Louis, I’m not falling for this ridiculous attempt to persuade me not to come back,” she said, her voice breathy and tremulous.
He smiled. “Good, because this is not an attempt, Marian. This is for real.”
He’d only meant to scare her away, but when she called his bluff, he reacted by covering her mouth with his.
Yet the moment he planted his mouth over hers, all thoughts of frightening her disappeared. The sensation of her mouth pressed against his, her breasts crushed against his chest, sent delight spreading through him. Right where he hadn’t anticipated feeling anything for Marian Cuvier.
He sampled her warm, soft lips, suddenly intent on exploring this surprising new sensation. She didn’t resist him as his tongue began a careful exploration of the fullness of her lips. The sweet taste of her mouth left him craving for more than just the taste of her. And as the reason for the kiss vanished from his mind, he was tempted to further his study of her mouth as he savored Marian.
She sighed the sound deep in the back of her throat, just before she pushed him away. She leaned away from him, her eyes wide with dismay as she covered her mouth with her hand.
“Oh,” she gasped.
Then before Louis could recover from the kiss and gather his wits about him, she jumped up from the desk. She grabbed her reticule.
“I... I must go. Edward ... is waiting,” she said, her voice breaking up.
“Marian,” he called, still a little stunned by the impact of her kiss.
“I ... Goodbye!” she said, and ran out the door.
Louis stood there, shocked. What just happened? He’d kissed her, but somehow something more than just the pressure of their lips had taken place. Marian’s response confused him, but even more his own reaction shocked him. He liked kissing Marian. He liked it so much he wanted to do it again. But Marian was his business partner, not someone you wanted to play with and then send away.
A heavy sigh escaped him. Maybe kissing the widow wasn’t such a good idea after all. Maybe she just reversed the situation and he should be the one running scared.
Chapter Four
Marian returned to the office the next morning, although with some reluctance. Louis’s kiss the night before awakened all kinds of thoughts and images. Things that she hadn’t thought about in years. Feelings she had buried, once it became evident that Jean would no longer be frequenting her bed.
The pleasure that burst inside her at the touch of Louis’s lips against hers had surprised and frightened her. She sat behind her desk and touched her fingers to her mouth, the memory of his kiss still fresh in her mind. So many years had passed since a man kissed her, let alone made her feel passion. Surely her response yesterday had been an accident. If he were to kiss her again, she would probably feel only the texture of his lips and nothing of the pleasure. Whatever reaction he’d evoked yesterday afternoon had been a mistake.
An enjoyable mistake, but doubtful it could happen again or should. Certainly he’d resorted to trying to frighten her away and when she saw him today she would act as if the kiss meant nothing.
“Good morning,” Louis said, standing in her doorway.
Her heart leapt within her chest at the sight of the man who kept her dreams troubled last night. How long had he been standing there watching her?
He leaned against the doorframe looking like temptation ... with a hangover. Dark shadows circled his bloodshot eyes, his complexion a pasty shade of white.
“Someone mentioned you brought croissants and coffee,” he said, with a weak smile.
She blushed, not quite meeting his gaze, unable to look at his full lips without remembering how they felt.
“They’re on the table. Help yourself.”
He moved slowly to the food, poured himself a cup of coffee and picked up a hot croissant. Seeing a chair beside her desk, he sank down, making himself cozy, like he wanted to settle in for a nice long chat.
How could he just come into her office sit down as if they were old friends, after he had behaved so brazenly toward her the night before?
Marian kept working hoping he would get the hint and go away. He sipped his coffee and moaned.
“The brew is strong, but it didn’t have that effect on any of the other men who stopped in this morning,” she said, not looking up.
“My head is killing me,” he answered solemnly.
“I noticed you don’t appear your usual chipper self this morning. What’s wrong?” she questioned innocently, knowing he suffered.
“I was bit by a malt-bug last night,” he replied.
“Never heard of the little beast. Must be pretty bad,” she said, not feeling any sympathy for the handsome man.
He shook his head at her and tried to smile. “I can tell you don’t go out very much. It’s not a real bug. It means I had too much to drink.”
“From the looks of you, that wasn’t hard to discern. I just don’t have any sympathy for you.”
Furtively she glanced at his mouth, trying not to stare, wondering again why his kiss had aroused her long- denied body. The memory of those luscious lips covering hers and the feel of his tongue running along her outer lips caused her to jump up and walk to the coffee pot. With shaking hands she poured the hot brew into a cup.
He acted as if nothing had transpired between them yesterday, like it was just another day at Cuvier Shipping. She had wanted to be the one who acted so nonchalant about their kiss. But somehow she felt like he was doing a better job and that left her frustrated. He had started this, not she.
“I usually don’t do this,” he said.
“Do what?” she asked, returning to her seat behind the desk. “Have coffee and croissants?”
“No. Drink to excess,” he grumbled.
“What changed?” she asked bluntly. “Did you have a case of bad conscience that you were trying to rid yourself of? Or did you need a dose of courage to come back and face me this morning? “
He stared at her, his eyes growing wide with surprise at her less than subtle attack. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could reply, they both heard a female voice calling, “Mr. Fournet, where are you?”
“Damn!” he said, spilling hot coffee over his trousers as he jumped up at the sound of his name.
He glanced around the room, and then slipped behind her office door, just as the woman came into view.
“What are you doing?” Marian softly hissed at Louis, stunned by his behavior. “Are you insane?”
“What does it look like? I’m hiding,” he whispered. She shook her head. “Aren’t you a little old to be playing hide-and-seek from women?”
“That’s easy for you to say. You don’t know Jane,” he said motioning her to lower her voice.
Marian leaned forward across her desk, so he could hear her better. “If you don’t want to go out and see the woman, then why don’t you tell her, instead of acting like a child and disappearing?”
“Jane can be ... clinging.”
“Please! Mr. Fournet, a man with your experience with women should know how to handle this type of situation by now.”
“My experience?” he questioned. “I’m no Lothario. I admit I like women, but no more than any other normal man.”
“Normal men don’t hide behind office doors when they have a visitor,” she admonished, resisting the urge to laugh at him.
He shook his head. “Just do me a small favor. Go out there and tell her I had to leave for a while and that I won’t be back until the year 1900.”
She stared at him from her desk, the cup of coffee in her hand. He wanted her to lie for him after he had refused to help her learn the shipping business. After he’d made it very clear she was not wanted in this office. After he’d kisse
d her, clearly trying to scare her away and then acted as if nothing had happened?
“Why should I?” she asked.
He paused and smiled at her, turning on the charm that came so naturally to him. “Just do this as a favor to me.”
Charm had little effect on Marian. Jean’s charm had left Marian immune to the effects, but Louis hadn’t recognized that fact yet.
She gazed at him over the rim of her cup, wanting to refuse but realizing there were other ways to handle his request. Standing, she pushed her chair away from the desk and walked around it
“All right I’ll help you. After all, you’ve been so welcoming and helpful to me since I came here,” she said, hurrying out the door trying to hide her smile.
Louis frowned suspiciously, sudden realization making him nervous.
“Wait” he hissed.
He peered through a crack between the door and the frame and watched Marian approach Jane, who stood looking in at his office.
“May I help you?” she asked the young woman.
Tall and graceful, Jane Fitzwilliam was on the prowl for a husband and she’d decided Louis was her mate of choice. The grand prize was to be a trip to the altar, but Louis had already visited the inside of her bedroom and had no desire to go to church with her.
“Do you work here?” the woman asked.
“Yes, I’m Marian Cuvier.”
The woman’s eyes grew wide at she recognized Marian’s name. “I’m looking for Louis Fournet”
“Is there anything I can help you with?” Marian asked.
“No. I need to speak with Louis.”
“Didn’t the men up front tell you?” Marian asked her voice filled with concern.
“Tell me what?” Jane questioned.
“If you’re a friend of his I’m sure he would want you to know,” Marian said with sympathy.
“What are you talking about?” the woman said, beginning to look worried.
“Well, I don’t know how to say this. It’s rather an indelicate subject that normally I wouldn’t discuss, but since you’re his friend, you should know,” Marian said, taking Jane’s elbow and drawing her closer to the door.
Oh God, what was she doing? he wondered.
“What’s wrong? Is it Louis?” she asked.
“There’s been an accident,” Marian said, a solemn look on her face.
“Accident? What kind of accident? Is he hurt?”
How could he stop her? She intended to ruin him. Yet if he went running out there, he would look like a fool. But if he stayed behind the door he feared what Marian’s next words would be.
The woman had a mean streak in her!
Marian leaned closer to the woman. “I only know because I overheard the men talking about—what happened. And even then I didn’t get all the details. They hushed when they saw me listening.”
Jane leaned forward, closer to Marian, whose voice was just loud enough that Louis caught every word.
“Seems like he was hurt,” she said, pausing, her face a frown. “You know ... down there.”
How could this get any worse? Louis thought as he watched Marian ruin him.
“No,” Jane gasped. “How bad is he?”
Marian half closed her eyes and shook her head. “Bad.”
He was going to wrap his hands around her throat and slowly choke her. The liquor had obviously dulled his brain for him to ask Marian to speak with Jane!
“The men said that the doctors don’t know if he’ll ever be the same. It’s doubtful he’ll ever have children.” She paused, stumbling with her words. “Because ... because, well, these things can be so uncertain.”
Oh God! It was bad enough his head was splitting, his mouth tasted like cotton, and his stomach was riding the high seas, all because he’d gotten drunk trying to forget the feel of her lips against his. All because watching her every day for the last three weeks was driving him to distraction. How could such a simple plan to drive her from the business have gone so wrong? And now look what she was doing to get even.
She had just told one of the biggest gossips in town that he had been—damaged. Up to now he’d enjoyed a very active sexual life, which now seemed to be ending.
The brunette backed away from Marian, her hand on her mouth. “Oh, dear! What a shame!”
Marian nodded her head. “I didn’t want to say anything, because it’s just something you don’t talk about. But I thought you would want to know.”
The woman blinked her eyes rapidly and shook her head sadly. “You’re right, it’s certainly something I could never discuss with him.”
“No. We just need to remember him in our prayers.”
Louis almost groaned as a bout of nausea gripped him. If the sickness from his hangover hadn’t held him in its grip, he would have come around the door and strangled Marian.
“Oh yes,” Jane said. “I’ll be sure to put his name on the prayer list at church.”
Oh God, what kind of illness would she list by his name? Eunuch?
How could he get out of this mess? How could he prove to Jane that he was a complete man? And did he want to go to the trouble?
“Should I tell him you came by, madame?” Marian asked.
Jane glanced around the office uneasily. She wrinkled her forehead in a frown. “Maybe it would be better if he didn’t know that I visited.”
Marian nodded her head. “Good idea. It’s such a shame.”
“I’ll say. Thank you so much for telling me.”
“You’re welcome. Shall I walk you to the door?”
“Please.”
The two women disappeared from sight and Louis banged his head against the wall behind the door. He must not underestimate this woman again. Marian didn’t get even, she got ahead. And, worst of all, she’d done it at his expense.
She returned a few moments later, a satisfied smile on her face.
“I did everything that you asked,” she said, at his look of pure frustration.
“Yes, I heard what you did,” he said. “I’m certain that Jane won’t be returning to the office again.”
Marian shrugged. “Pity, I rather enjoyed talking to her.”
“Maybe you can tell her when I’m healed,” he said taking a deep breath to calm his annoyance.
A blush spread across Marian’s face. “Oh, no that’s a delicate subject that ladies don’t discuss.”
“I can see that,” he said, his voice rising until his head throbbed.
“Any time you want to hide in my office, I’d be happy to speak with your lady friends for you,” Marian said, with a wicked smile.
He gave her a look that would have halted a sensible person, but not Marian.
“Don’t worry, you won’t be here,” he said, his voice low and irritated.
She smiled. “We’ll see who lasts longer, Mr. Fournet. It’s going to take more than a kiss to send me running out the door.”
“And more than rumors of an accident for me,” he said, and walked out the door, slamming it behind him.
***
Several days later, Marian laid the morning paper down on her desk and wanted to cry. Another sensational story about Jean’s murder appeared on the front page of the newspaper. Since his death, there were few days that went by that an article did not appear regarding his murder or the other Cuvier Widows, as they were called.
Now the papers were saying that the arrest of Layla was imminent and alleging she murdered Jean.
The police claimed they had found a motive, though Marian doubted the girl had had the courage to kill Jean. She didn’t know who killed her husband but Marian felt relieved Jean was gone.
Jon rapped on her door. “Mrs. Cuvier?”
Marian glanced up. “Yes?”
“There’s a young boy here who says he’s your son,” the man said. “He’s bleeding, Ma’am.”
She jumped up out of her chair, pushed past Jon and ran out of her office, down the hall. This week was Philip’s first week back in school and when s
he’d sent him off, she was afraid that newspapermen would hound him.
She saw her son standing at the front door, his head down, his knees skinned, and his left eye swollen. His clothes were tom and dirty as if he’d been rolling in the dirt. Who had done this to him?
“Philip,” she cried. “What happened? Are you hurt?”
She knelt down beside her son, her black skirts billowing around her and the boy.
Philip glanced at her, his face dirty and tear-streaked.
He blinked, trying to hold back the tears. “I ... I got in a fight at school. They sent me home.”
“Oh son! Are you hurt?” she asked, as she pushed the hair back away from his forehead to check the area where he received the blow.
“No,” he said dejectedly. “My eye aches, but that’s all.”
Noticing for the first time that everyone in the office was watching them, she stood and took him by the arm. Not releasing him, she proceeded to walk him back to her office. Once there she sat him in a chair. She walked over to the bowl and ewer she’d brought from home and poured water onto a small towel, which she used to dry her hands.
Walking back to her son, she knelt in front of him and glanced at his face. Gently, she washed the scrapes and bruises on his knees and elbows.
“Why were you fighting, Philip? You’ve never been one to cause trouble,” she said, as she gently washed his face.
He looked away and shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know.”
She folded the towel and wiped his face, her heart aching for the boy she loved with all her heart
“Philip, I know you wouldn’t get into a fight without a good reason. You can tell me. What happened?”
He wouldn’t look at her. “I guess I got mad at what some kids were saying.”
Marian’s heart ached as she gazed at her boy. “What kind of things were they saying, Philip?”
The boy shrugged, trying so hard to hide his pain. Restlessly he kicked his feet. “It's okay, Mother. I took care of them.”
She swallowed, he was trying to protect her, and afraid he would hurt her feelings. “Were they saying things about your father?”
She walked over to the bowl and rinsed the towel out and then came back to her son.