An Eligible Stranger Read online

  An Eligible Stranger

  By

  Tracy Sinclair

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  "As my wife, you'll live a life of luxury and privilege," Philippe told Nicole. "All of your bills will be paid and you'll have a generous allowance."

  "There are names for women who agree to that kind of arrangement," she said sardonically. "Kept woman is the most polite term."

  "My proposal differs in two important respects. First, we'll be legally married. Second…no sex."

  "That's understood. It never entered my mind," she lied.

  "I believe I could make it enjoyable for you." His gaze was sensuous as it moved from her face to her softly curved body.

  Tracy Sinclair began her career as a photo-journalist for national magazines and newspapers. Extensive travel all over the world has provided this California resident with countless fascinating experiences, settings and acquaintances to draw on in plotting her romances. After writing over fifty novels, she still has stories she can't wait to tell.

  First published in Great Britain 2001

  © Tracy Sinclair 2000

  ISBN 0 263 82528 0

  Chapter One

  Nicole Trent's eyes were shadowed as she shuffled through the pile of bills on the kitchen table. How did other single mothers manage to get by on a meager salary? She'd never realized how much it cost to raise one small boy. Especially in an expensive city like San Francisco. Not that she regretted the time and money involved. Robbie was the most precious thing in her life.

  Nicole's face softened as she thought about her nephew, asleep in the bedroom. After the accident that had claimed both of his parents that terrible rainy night, she'd made a vow that Robbie would still have all the advantages other children had, no matter what personal sacrifices she had to make.

  When the telephone rang, she reached for it without any premonition of the trouble that was approaching like a juggernaut.

  A deep male voice with a musical French accent said, "This is Philippe Galantoire. I wish to speak to Miss Nicole Trent."

  The name sent a shock through her. She'd informed this man of his brother's death, out of common courtesy, but she hadn't expected any acknowledgment. Nicole's deceased brother-in-law, Raymond Galantoire, hadn't had any contact with his family for years. She hadn't even known how to contact his brother until recently, almost a month after the accident when she finally got around to disposing of Raymond's things. A scrap of paper with Philippe's address was tucked carelessly among some unimportant papers.

  Whatever Philippe Galantoire wanted now, it was too little and too late. Nicole tried to keep the dislike out of her voice as she identified herself, but it was difficult.

  "Thank you for notifying us of Raymond's tragic death," Philippe said matter-of-factly.

  There was no emotion in his voice, she thought indignantly. He could be thanking her for showing him to his seat at the theater. The man had ice water in his veins! "I realize you hadn't spoken to your brother in five years, but I still thought it was the proper thing to do," she said evenly.

  Philippe Galantoire didn't react to her barely concealed hostility. His voice was equally cool when he said, "You mentioned in your letter that my brother left a son. How old is he?"

  "He's four," she answered in the same clipped tone.

  "What is his name?"

  "It's Robaire, although everybody calls him Robbie."

  "Where is the boy now? Who is taking care of him at present?"

  "He's living with me, but not just temporarily," Nicole said curtly. "He'll be here permanently."

  She wondered about all this belated interest. Was this cold, unfeeling man going to offer to contribute to Robbie's support? She could certainly use some help, but not from a person who had considered her sister unworthy to be a member of his family. The Galantoires were fabulously wealthy. They owned vineyards in the French countryside and a winery that produced premium wines and vintage champagne. The money would mean nothing to them. It would simply ease their guilty conscience.

  Nicole's jaw set. "I intend to raise Robbie, so you needn't worry about him."

  "You are the one who need not worry, Miss Trent. I would never permit such an arrangement. The boy is a Galantoire. He will be raised by me and my family."

  "I'm not going to let you take my nephew! You're a total stranger! You didn't even know Robbie was alive until I told you." A fact that she was rapidly regretting.

  "Unfortunately that's true, but it isn't solely my fault. How could I know? Raymond simply dropped out of sight not long after his marriage."

  "What a surprise!" Nicole said mockingly. "All you did was say insulting things about his fiancée and threaten to disinherit him if he married her. Who could take offense at that?"

  "I don't have to justify myself to you," Philippe said icily. "Just tell me how soon you can put Robaire on a plane for Paris. I'll make the arrangements and send you an airline ticket. When can he be ready?"

  "How about two weeks from never?" she snapped.

  "I had hoped we could settle this amicably, but if you're determined to be difficult, I'll just have to—" He paused when he heard a child's voice in the background.

  Robbie had come into the kitchen and was looking doubtfully at Nicole. "Who are you hollering at, Aunt Nicky? Is something wrong?"

  She put her hand over the mouthpiece and gave the little boy a reassuring smile. "Everything is fine, honey. I wasn't hollering. I guess I didn't realize I was talking so loud. Scoot back to bed, and I'll be there in a minute to tuck you in again."

  "I wanna drink of water first."

  "I'll bring it to you," she promised. "Just let me get rid of—I mean, let me finish this phone call."

  "Okay, but I want it in the glass with Barney on it."

  As he left the kitchen, Philippe's voice in her ear said, "Was that Robaire? What is the child doing up at this hour? It must be nine o'clock at night there!"

  "It's nine-fifteen, actually," she answered in a flip voice, not bothering to tell this annoying man that she'd put Robbie to bed over an hour ago.

  "I don't have any personal experience with children, but I do know little ones should be in bed before now. If this is how you take care of my nephew, it's a good thing I'll be relieving you of the burden," he said coldly.

  "In your dreams, pal! Robbie is my nephew, too— and unlike you, I don't consider him a burden. Forget about taking him back to France because it isn't going to happen!" Without waiting for a reply, she slammed down the receiver.

  Nicole pinned a smile on her face while she gave Robbie a drink of water and a kiss. But when she returned to the living room, her fury erupted.

  The colossal nerve of the man! How could he possibly think she'd hand Robbie over to him? After the way he'd treated his own brother, she wouldn't trust Philippe Galantoire with a puppy! The Galantoires only wanted Robbie because he bore the family name. They still thought Sandra was beneath them.

  Sandra and Raymond had met the summer she graduated from college. It was in a bistro in Paris frequented by young people. In spite of what the Galantoires believed, Sandra didn't know Raymond came from a wealthy family.

  She didn't find out until he asked her to marry him and took her home to meet his mother and brother. Philippe had run the family enterprises since their father died many years before.

  Nicole wasn't naive enough to think Philippe would simply drop the matter. His
macho pride wouldn't permit a mere woman to make him back off. There was nothing he could do, however. She had as much claim to Robbie as he did.

  After a few more harassing phone calls, he'd realize that, think of some excuse to save face and go back to running his empire and chasing girls. According to Raymond, his brother was wildly successful with the ladies.

  By the next morning, Philippe Galantoire was only a vague, unpleasant memory. Nicole's days and nights were too hectic for her to dwell on nonessentials.

  She could barely remember those evenings after work when she used to take a leisurely bath and dress in something glamorous for dinner and a night on the town with her choice of escorts. No wonder she'd had more money then. She'd spent almost nothing on food or entertainment and she'd gotten her wardrobe at a discount.

  "Look on the bright side. You don't need new clothes every few weeks, even discounted ones," Nicole told herself, grinning wryly as she glanced at her jeans and old, shrunken T-shirt. The front of it was wet where Robbie had splashed her, but it wasn't worth taking the time to change. Nobody was going to see her.

  "Who are you talking to, Aunt Nicky?" Robbie called from the bathroom.

  "Some overprivileged woman I used to know," she called back. "Don't forget to wash behind your ears." The doorbell rang as she was walking to the kitchen.

  "Who's that?" Robbie called. "If it's company, I want to see them."

  "Finish your bath. It's probably just Gracie from next door, wanting to borrow something." Nicole opened the door and stared in surprise.

  A tall, broad-shouldered man stood in the hall. He was wearing an elegant suit that must have cost a fortune. His thick, dark hair was slightly windblown, but other than that he was impeccably groomed and rather imposing. He had a strong face—high cheekbones, a square jaw and a firm mouth that managed to be severe and sensual at the same time.

  They stared at each other for a moment before he said, "I'm looking for Miss Nicole Trent."

  She recognized his voice immediately. Philippe Galantoire looked as haughty as he'd sounded. That didn't surprise her, but she hadn't expected him to be such a hunk. Not that it mattered to her.

  "I'm Nicole Trent. How did you get to California so fast?" she asked, pulling self-consciously at the hem of her T-shirt. It stopped short of her hip-hugging jeans, displaying a strip of smooth midriff.

  Philippe barely heard the question. He was staring at the taut fabric molded to her breasts like a second skin. The wet T-shirt not only outlined her breasts graphically, but her nipples, as well. Sacré bleu! The girl had the body of a love goddess.

  "What are you doing here?" Nicole asked impatiently. "I thought I made myself crystal clear on the phone. You aren't getting Robbie."

  Her curt voice broke the spell. He trained his eyes on her face, deliberately ignoring her sexy appearance. "Did you really think I'd leave it at that?"

  "No, I expected you to harass me, but I didn't think you'd be dumb enough to fly halfway around the world on a wild-goose chase."

  "You don't know me very well, Miss Trent. I go after what I want. And I don't give up until I get it," he added softly.

  "Too bad your winning streak is about to end." Her blue eyes sparkled with anger as she tilted her chin at him defiantly.

  "Don't count on it."

  They were glowering at each other when Robbie called from the bathroom, "Where are you, Aunt Nicky?" His voice had a quaver in it. "Did you go away and leave me?"

  "No, darling, I'm right here!"

  She left Philippe standing in the hall and ran to her nephew. Robbie was adjusting well, but he still got anxious at times when he didn't know where she was. Who could blame him? His parents had disappeared without warning. Nicole was all he had left.

  Philippe watched her go, running lightly on her bare feet. She was so graceful. With that long, pale-blond hair falling around her heart-shaped face, she looked irresistible.

  Philippe took a deep breath. What was wrong with him? Nicole Trent was undeniably sexy and enticing, but he'd known many beautiful women. This one was his opponent. It was crucial to remember that. If she was as smart as she was gorgeous, he couldn't afford to let down his guard.

  Setting his jaw, he went inside the apartment and followed the sound of Nicole's voice.

  "Bath time is over," she was saying gaily, kneeling beside the tub. "You're going to wrinkle up like a little raisin if you don't get out of the water."

  "I wanna be a raisin." Robbie giggled, holding up his arms to be lifted out of the tub. "Then I wouldn't have to take baths anymore, or eat broccoli, or—" He paused, looking past Nicole. "Who's that?"

  She glanced over her shoulder and tensed. "Will you kindly wait in the living room?" she said to Philippe. "Or better yet, phone me later on. As you can see, this isn't a convenient time."

  He ignored her, continuing to stare at Robbie with strong emotion. "You look like your father," Philippe said softly. "He had dark-brown hair like yours, but his eyes were hazel instead of blue."

  "Me and Aunt Nicky and Mommy all have blue eyes. Only Mommy is gone now." The little boy stared at him curiously. "Did you know my mommy?"

  "Not very well," Philippe answered in a muted voice. "But I knew your daddy. He was my brother. I'm your Uncle Philippe."

  Robbie looked at Nicole doubtfully. "Is he really?"

  "I suppose so," she said grudgingly.

  "You know so!" Philippe said explosively. "First you try to keep the boy away from us, and now you want to deny the very existence of Raymond's family!"

  Robbie put his arms around her neck and whispered, "I don't like him."

  Join the crowd, she thought sardonically, but she gave the little boy a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, he won't be here long." She lifted him in her arms and turned to face Philippe. "I hope you won't mind showing yourself out. I have to put Robbie to bed."

  "I'll wait," he said grimly.

  "It might be quite a while. I'm going to read him a story—a long one."

  Their eyes dueled as Philippe answered, "Take your time. I'm not going anywhere."

  Nicole was careful not to let Robbie see her anger because it would only have upset him further, but it took effort not to tell Philippe how obnoxious he was. He had no right to come here and disrupt their lives. No way would she let him get his hands on Robbie! He didn't even know how to talk to a child without scaring him silly.

  Nicole kept her voice light as she tucked Robbie into bed and discussed what story he wanted to hear. The little boy lost his apprehension once they were alone, and his eyelids started to droop. He fell asleep very soon, unfortunately for her. She wanted Philippe to cool his heels in the living room, getting more bored by the minute. It would serve him right!

  After tucking the covers around the sleeping child, Nicole took a moment to change into a dry T-shirt before returning, reluctantly, to the living room.

  Philippe seemed to dwarf the small room—as much by his dominant personality as his considerable height. He was standing in the middle of the floor, gazing around disapprovingly.

  Nicole was slightly embarrassed as she realized how the apartment must look from his point of view. The dinner dishes were still on the dinette table, and there was a pile of laundry on the couch, waiting to be folded and put away. Robbie's toys littered the floor, and magazines and newspapers were stacked haphazardly on the coffee table.

  "I haven't had a chance to tidy up yet," she said defensively.

  "Yes, I can see that," he drawled.

  Nicole's spine stiffened and she thrust out her chin aggressively. "It's all your fault for barging in unannounced."

  He raised one dark eyebrow. "I'm responsible for the state this place is in?"

  "Exactly! You probably have servants to keep your house spotless, but most of us don't. I worked all day, then picked Robbie up at preschool and came home and made dinner. I usually wash the dishes, do the laundry and pick up his toys while he's having his bath. Thanks to you, I'm behind schedule. Cal
l me inhospitable, but I don't have time for uninvited visitors."

  "This isn't a social call. If you hadn't hung up on me, we could have concluded our business by telephone."

  "As far as I'm concerned, we did," she said flatly.

  "You know better than that. Robaire is a Galantoire. We intend to—"

  "So was your brother Raymond." Nicole cut him off. "But you threw him out of the house. What do you plan to do with Robbie if he doesn't live up to your high standards? Put him in an orphanage?"

  "Don't be absurd! Besides, you're wrong about Raymond. He was the one who walked out."

  "That's what any decent man would do if someone insulted the woman he loved. Sandra was a wonderful human being. She didn't have a devious thought in her head."

  "How could we know that?" Philippe's austere manner lessened for the first time. "They'd only known each other for a short time. Marriage is a big step. We asked Raymond to wait until they were sure of their feelings for each other. Is that so terrible?"

  "You did more than advise them to wait," Nicole said grimly. "You told him Sandra was only interested in his money."

  "It's not a unique situation between a girl of moderate means and a rich young man."

  "Except that Raymond didn't have any money of his own, yet Sandra stuck by him. Do you have any idea of what a struggle it was for them? Raymond didn't know how to do anything except make wine. The only job he ever had was in your family winery."

  "It wasn't busy work for a rich man's son as you imply," Philippe said. "Raymond worked there since he was a boy, learning the business."

  "That was actually a hindrance because he didn't know how to do anything else. And Sandra couldn't get a job to help out because of your stringent work rules against foreigners taking jobs. They were reduced to counting pennies—literally!"

  Deep lines were carved in Philippe's face. "Raymond could have come to me for money. He must have known I would never have refused him."