An Eligible Stranger Page 5

  "But we'd have to pretend…" Nicole's voice trailed off.

  "To be in love." Philippe finished her sentence. "It wouldn't be a hardship for me," he said in a husky voice.

  When she looked at him warily, his expression changed. Had she only imagined the smoky desire in his eyes?

  "Don't worry, I'll only act the role of a loving husband when we're in public," he said mockingly.

  "I hate to rush you, Philippe," Marcel called. "But I have another engagement shortly."

  Nicole listened in a kind of daze to the solemn ceremony that bound her to a virtual stranger. She wanted to say no and end this charade when the judge asked if she'd take Philippe for her husband. But something stopped her. Sandra and Raymond were as clear in her mind as if they were standing there in the room. They were both smiling and nodding their approval.

  Nicole was so bemused that she hardly felt Philippe take her hand. She glanced down to see him slip a beautiful diamond wedding band on her finger.

  "You may now kiss the bride," the judge said, beaming.

  Philippe took her in his arms and his mouth closed over hers. Suddenly, Nicole's detachment vanished. She was acutely aware of this vibrant man and the way his lips moved sensuously over hers, coaxing a response.

  It was useless to remind herself that it was all an act put on to impress his friend. Philippe's warm mouth and lithe body seduced her will to resist. She wanted to clasp her arms around his neck and unleash all the passion underneath that iron control.

  When he finally released her and the spell was broken, Nicole was appalled at herself. This whole thing was a terrible mistake that would only get worse! The physical attraction between them had been present from the beginning—even though they disliked each other—but she was no match for this experienced man who would use sex to gain an advantage. It was crucial to remember that in the trying days ahead.

  Chapter Four

  Nicole struggled to regain her composure after Philippe's arousing kiss. He wasn't the slightest bit ruffled, she reflected bitterly. He was chatting with the judge as though the man had just dropped by to pay a social call.

  A few minutes later, Marcel said he had to leave. "I wish I could stay longer, but I'm sure you two can't wait to be alone." He said something ribald in French to Philippe, laughing knowingly. His expression changed to blandness when he turned to Nicole and kissed her hand. "Please accept my best wishes, Madame Galantoire. I know you and Philippe will be very happy together."

  After he'd left, Nicole said dryly, "Your friend has an earthy way of putting things. His remark to you was something I'd expect from a high school boy."

  Philippe's poise slipped for the first time since she'd known him. "You understand French?"

  "I speak it fluently."

  "Why didn't you ever say so?"

  "I was tempted to when you swore so colorfully in the airport." She grinned mischievously.

  "I apologize profusely! I hope you'll forgive me."

  She shrugged. "I've heard those words before."

  "It never occurred to me that you might be bilingual." Philippe was clearly embarrassed. "I'm afraid I bought into the common misconception that Americans only speak their own language."

  "We don't have much opportunity to practice what we learn in school. But when Raymond and Sandra returned to San Francisco, we spoke mainly French together so she wouldn't lose her proficiency. Robbie understands quite a bit of French, too."

  "I made the mistake of underestimating you."

  "That could be dangerous," she said lightly.

  "I'm well aware of it. From now on I'll watch what I say—starting tomorrow, since I don't want to spoil our wedding night." When she gave him a wary look, Philippe smiled faintly. "I was only suggesting that we suspend hostilities during dinner. I thought we'd go to Chez Martine after Robaire goes to bed."

  "I couldn't leave him alone."

  "He won't be alone. Heloise and Paul will be here with him. She'll sit in his room until he goes to sleep."

  Nicole knew that Robbie would raise a fuss. But after Philippe promised to take him shopping the next day for the toy car he wanted, the little boy went to bed without further protest.

  "You really have to stop bribing him," Nicole told Philippe after she returned from tucking Robbie into bed. "I realize you can afford to buy him anything he wants, but he's going to become terribly spoiled."

  "I'd prefer not to buy his love, but it's the only way I can get either of you to tolerate me. You see, money does have its uses," Philippe added sardonically.

  If he thought she could be manipulated as easily as Robbie, he was due for a big surprise, Nicole thought grimly. She intended to be on her guard, too.

  Philippe didn't act like a man with a secret agenda. The only thing on his mind seemed to be a relaxing dinner in pleasant surroundings.

  Chez Martine was one of those elegant multistarred restaurants where reservations had to be made weeks in advance. The atmosphere was urbanely dignified. The tables were set with the finest china and silver, and crystal chandeliers cast a soft light over the smartly dressed people who filled the room with a hum of conversation.

  The maitre d's hauteur vanished when he hurried over to greet Philippe. "Of course we can find a table for you, Monsieur Galantoire," he said, leading them to a choice spot by a window.

  After they were seated and the man had left them alone for a moment, Nicole remarked, "You either come here often or you're a big tipper. I've read that you need a favorable credit rating and three references to get in here."

  "It isn't quite that bad. Only two people have to vouch for you," Philippe joked.

  They were soon surrounded by an attentive waiter, a busboy and the wine steward. Philippe chose the wine, then dismissed all of them while he and Nicole glanced over the menu.

  "Why don't you order for me?" she suggested.

  "I don't know what you like." Philippe stared at her curiously. "It occurs to me that we know remarkably little about each other."

  "I wouldn't say that. I know you're rich and spoiled, and you know I'm not." She laughed.

  His face mirrored her amusement. "Will you admit to being headstrong and hot-tempered?"

  "Look who's talking about a bad temper!" she hooted.

  "If you're referring to my occasional outbursts, you'll have to admit I was provoked. I believe you do it on purpose."

  "You're just not used to anyone challenging your authority," she said lightly.

  "And you're used to men who will do anything to please you."

  "You might try it sometime."

  "It didn't get them very far. You said you're not involved with anybody." He gazed at her speculatively. "There must have been a lot of men in your life. Have you ever been in love with any of them?"

  Before she could answer, the wine steward came to pour the wine. Then the waiter came to take their order, and Nicole again told Philippe to choose for her.

  While the two men conferred over the menu, she thought about Philippe's question. The answer was no. She'd never met anyone who made her heart race and her body pulse with desire. Some of the men she'd dated had felt that way about her, yet she hadn't shared their passion. It would serve her right if the tables were turned and the man she finally fell madly in love with didn't share her feelings, Nicole thought wryly.

  "I ordered some of the dishes the chef is noted for," Philippe said, interrupting her reverie. "I hope you'll like them."

  "I'm sure everything here is delicious," she said vaguely. Her mind wasn't on food. "You said we don't know anything about each other, which is true. But at least you know a little about me. Tell me what your life is like."

  "It's fairly predictable, I suppose. I go to work every morning, like most people. I socialize with my friends. I lead a very normal life."

  "Scarcely." She glanced around the gracious room. "Most people don't dine at Chez Martine whenever they feel like it, or live in a mansion."

  "I might have more worldly g
oods, but I'm still a working man."

  That was technically true, yet it wasn't the sort of thing she wanted to find out. Since Philippe kept avoiding the subject of his personal life, she came right out and asked him about it. After all, he'd asked about hers. "Some of those friends you see must be women. Is there anyone special in your life?"

  "Not at the present time."

  Had he hesitated before answering? Nicole wondered. It didn't seem possible that a man like Philippe wasn't seeing someone regularly—or that he intended to forgo sex because of their sham marriage. He was much too virile for that.

  "I suppose it's fortunate that you aren't involved with anyone," she said. "You'd have trouble explaining your sudden marriage."

  "Luckily, that's no problem," he answered blandly.

  "Have you considered the other problems? Marriage is bound to interfere with your, um, normal lifestyle." Nicole gazed down at the small plate the waiter had unobtrusively set before her. "Perhaps you already have a solution. I've heard that some Frenchmen have what they call une petite amie, a little friend."

  "How very kind of you to be concerned about my sex life. That is what you're referring to so delicately, isn't it?" Philippe's eyes were dancing with merriment. "Are you giving me permission to have an extramarital affair?"

  "You don't need my permission, under the circumstances," she answered coolly.

  "There is a way to keep me from straying," he said mischievously.

  "Don't even think about it! I have no intention of sleeping with you," she said in a firm voice.

  "You might enjoy it. I would try very hard to please you." The flame from the candle was reflected in his eyes as he took her hand across the table.

  His low, husky voice sent a shiver up her spine. She could imagine all the ways this sensuous man could please her, from his first arousing kiss to his complete possession of her body.

  She pulled her hand away to break the magnetic contact between them. "This arrangement isn't going to work, Philippe," she said, taking a deep breath.

  "Because I was honest with you? I'm sure many men have wanted to make love to you. You're an enchanting woman."

  "If I thought you felt that way, I never would have agreed to marry you!"

  "I never heard of a woman being insulted because a man considered her desirable." Philippe chuckled.

  "You promised this would be a mock marriage."

  "It will be. Nothing is going to happen that you don't want to happen. I think we'd be sensational together, but only if you felt the same way."

  "I don't," she said, trying to sound convincing.

  The undeniable sexual attraction between them was baffling—and dangerous! Philippe would be a marvelous lover, but his deeper emotions wouldn't be involved. She wasn't foolish enough to think they ever would be, at least toward her.

  "I've never made love to an unwilling woman, so you have nothing to worry about. Eat your petite bouchée or the chef will take it as a personal affront and we won't be able to come here anymore."

  Nicole's attention focused on her plate for the first time. The fluted patty shell filled with crabmeat looked like a picture in a magazine. The crab mixture was topped with an anchovy curl filled with caviar and centered on a small slice of smoked salmon.

  "I hope you'll think it tastes as good as it looks. Next time we'll try Celestine's. It's a new restaurant that's gotten very good reviews. Perhaps we'll go there tomorrow night."

  "I can't leave Robbie again," Nicole protested.

  "Why not? He's in capable hands and he goes to sleep early. Surely you didn't stay home with him every night."

  "Actually, I did. It was usually late by the time I finished all the domestic chores, and we both had to get up early the next morning. I was happy just to crawl into bed after everything was done."

  "You gave up your entire personal life for the boy?" Philippe asked slowly.

  Nicole shrugged. "I just put it on hold for a while. No big deal."

  "I doubt that very many women would be willing to make that sacrifice. At least your life will be easier now," he said gently.

  "Not necessarily. I won't have to wash dishes or do the laundry but I simply traded one set of problems for another," she said ruefully.

  "I don't want to be a problem for you, Nicole."

  "It isn't you—although you're the main thorn in my side." Her smile took away the sting.

  "I want to make things better for you, not worse. Tell me what's bothering you and I'll fix it."

  "Does that include changing your mother's attitude toward me?" she asked ironically. "I don't think even you can perform miracles."

  Philippe sighed. "I realize that Mother is difficult. She can't accept the fact that Raymond chose your sister over his family. It's illogical to blame you when you had nothing to do with it, but she has to blame somebody besides herself. It must be hell to live with the fact that her last meeting with Raymond ended on such a bitter note."

  "I suppose I can understand that," Nicole said grudgingly.

  "Robaire is all she has left of Raymond. Mother desperately wants her grandchild's love, but she doesn't know how to talk to him. You'd be doing a real humanitarian service if you could convince Robaire to warm up to her, even a little bit."

  Nicole stared at him indignantly. "Isn't there any limit to what you expect of me? I can't perform miracles, either."

  "I know it's a lot to ask, but you're the only one who can change Robaire's opinion of her."

  "What makes you think she'd welcome my interference? I'm sure when your mother heard we were getting married, she made the eruption of Vesuvius seem like a puff of smoke!" Nicole noted the change in his expression. "Am I right about her reaction?"

  "She was a little upset," Philippe admitted. "But she'll get used to the idea."

  "I admire your optimism—even if I don't share it. You must have invited her to our wedding, but I notice she wasn't there."

  "I know all of Mother's faults, but I can't help feeling sorry for her," Philippe said soberly. "That doesn't mean I'll let her make your life miserable. If she gives you any trouble, I want to hear about it."

  "I'm more concerned about how Robbie is going to adapt. It was a good sign that he agreed to stay with Heloise tonight, but maybe I should phone to see if he's all right."

  "You can if you like, but she has this number. I'm sure Heloise would have called if anything came up that she couldn't handle."

  "I suppose you're right. It's just that this is the first time I've left him." Nicole laughed suddenly. "Listen to us! We sound like a typical young couple worrying about a new baby-sitter."

  "It's kind of nice. I think I'm going to like being a family man."

  "Wait until Robbie wakes you up in the middle of the night because he wants a drink of water. Or he just gets lonesome and climbs into bed with you and squirms around so you can't get back to sleep. That warm, fuzzy feeling gets cold fast," she said dryly.

  "None of those things would bother me." Philippe looked thoughtful. "We entered into this arrangement so Robaire would feel secure. Why not take it a step further? After he gets a little more accustomed to me, I think we should adopt him."

  A red flag went up in Nicole's brain. If the situation with Philippe didn't work and she wanted out, it would be almost impossible for her to gain custody of Robbie. Especially in a French court where she'd have to sue. Had Philippe thought of that? Was that the reason he made the proposal?

  "I think any talk of adoption is premature," she said coolly.

  "It's something to think about."

  "Don't push your luck." Her blue eyes flashed angrily. "So far, I've agreed to every one of your terms—against my better judgment and without getting anything in return except vague promises and vaguer reassurance. I don't blame you for thinking I'm a pushover, but I do have limits!"

  "I'm sorry you feel I've been manipulating you. I thought I was pretty straightforward about what I'd like from you." He smiled momentarily before beco
ming serious again. "I freely admit you've been more than generous, but I never made any empty promises. I'll take you to see Jacques, my friend the couturier, whenever you like. Just name the day— tomorrow if you wish."

  "I couldn't be ready that soon. I don't have my sketches with me. I didn't think there was any reason to bring them."

  "Can you duplicate your designs?"

  "Yes, but it will take time."

  "Well, just let me know. Whenever you're ready, I'll fulfill my part of the bargain." Philippe took her hand across the table and gazed into her eyes. "I'm not trying to take advantage of you, Nicole. I'll admit I tricked you into letting me bring Robaire here, but only because I thought he would be better off with me."

  "You still think so," she muttered, ignoring the warmth of his big, capable hand.

  "Yes, but you've shown me that he needs both of us. I might not have said it before, but I'm very glad you're here."

  Nicole couldn't help melting in the glow of his eyes and the huskiness of his voice. Was Philippe that good an actor, or did he really mean it?

  They were gazing at each other wordlessly when a group of people on their way to a table stopped beside them.

  "Philippe!" a woman exclaimed. "You didn't tell me you were coming here tonight. You just said you were busy."

  "He doesn't have to give you a detailed report of his activities like I do, my dear," the man with her— presumably her husband—said.

  "How nice to see you, Marie. It was a spur-of-the-moment decision," Philippe said blandly. "I felt like having chicken. You might try the roast truffled capon tonight. It was excellent."

  While the others made comments, a blond man was staring admiringly at Nicole. "Aren't you going to introduce your lovely companion? Or are you afraid of competition?"

  "I've already beaten out the competition," Philippe said. "I'd like you all to meet my beautiful wife, Nicole."

  Exclamations erupted all around. The consensus was that he was joking.

  "Not at all," he said. "We were married this evening."