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“Better than the chocolate-filled?” he asked.

“For breakfast yes. The chocolate are luscious for dessert.”

They were seated on the terrace of the charming stone cottage he shared with her mother. “I’m so happy you could come for a visit. Your mother has worried herself sick since your accident. She was certain you weren’t telling us all you should.”

Reclining on a chaise longue, she gestured toward her cast. “It’s only a broken leg and a scar everyone tells me barely shows. I wanted to come visit you.”

Claude studied her closely. “There’s something in your eyes, a sorrow you’re not revealing.”

“I hate being unable to work, that’s all,” she lied smoothly.

Claude was in his sixties with thick gray hair he wore smoothed back. He described himself as merely plump, and he had such a charming personality no one ever remarked on his weight. “There is a musician who plays at the café on Sunday afternoons. You might find his company entertaining.”

From the day he’d married her mother, he’d been seeking the perfect Frenchman for her. She smiled at his latest effort. “I’m sure he’s a nice man, but I’ll be gone soon.”

“You’re too pretty to be alone. Your mother is so happy with me. You must give a nice man the chance to please you.”

Restless, she shifted her position but still couldn’t get comfortable. “Claude, enough, please.”

“Forgive me, but I must try. Now it’s time for me to go to the café.” He stood and leaned down to kiss her cheek. “Your mother is thrilled you’re here.”

Ana had outgrown a need for a mother to manage her career in her late teens, and while they still shared a love of fashion, they hadn’t remained close after Carol had remarried and moved to France. Carol was tall and slim despite Claude’s butter-laced cooking, and had swiftly taken on a Frenchwoman’s elegance. Ana smiled as her mother joined her on the terrace.

“What would you like to do today?” Carol asked. “We’ve toured the cathedral, and it would be difficult to do again with your crutches. I’ve been meaning to buy some new lingerie. Why don’t you come with me, and we’ll have lunch at Claude’s café.”

Ana wanted to do absolutely nothing, but her mother would keep proposing activities until she gave in. “My lingerie is a bit ragged, so let’s go.”

“Your lingerie is never ragged, my sweet, but a woman always needs something new.”

Ana had been to the shop with her mother on an earlier trip, and again posed for a photo with the owner, a Madame Cotillard, who often posted ads featuring her from French Vogue. The shop held a delicious lavender fragrance from the sachets hidden among the satins and lace.

“I’m so glad to see you looking well,” Madame Cotillard exclaimed. “When I read about your accident, I feared the worst and said many prayers for you.”

“Thank you. Clearly they were effective.” She sat in the pink damask chair men used when accompanying their wives and girlfriends there. It was discreetly placed at the rear of the shop so they’d not be seen through the window. Alejandro would have loved the place and insisted she buy lingerie in every color of the rainbow. She shut her eyes tightly to force away his image, but he stubbornly lingered in her thoughts. When her mother had made her purchases, she bought the blackest lace bras and panties Madame Cotillard carried and folded the pink bag into her purse.

Claude’s café overlooked the Seine and was popular with tourists and locals alike. Ana liked the tables out front but today asked for something inside.

“Of course, you do not wish to be troubled by admirers,” the chef replied. “I have the perfect cozy table for you and my bride.”

Ana had always thought his devotion to her mother was sweet, and clearly her mother thrived with his loving attention. She had to remind herself she was only twenty-four and had plenty of time for true love to find her too. For today, she’d satisfy the longing with a dozen escargot, dripping with garlic and butter.

Alejandro stood with Carlotta beside his father’s bed. She had wept continually since her

husband had entered the hospital, and he marveled at how anyone could hold so many tears. The doctors had yet to recommend they take his father off life support, but he knew it had to be coming. He’d prepared himself for it, but Carlotta would never agree. They had the resources to maintain his father in a coma forever, but that wouldn’t be what Orlando would have wanted. He’d been far too ambitious and active a man to welcome a vegetative state for even a day, let alone the years he might live on the edge of twilight.

“I need to check in at the office,” Alejandro told her.

“I’m sorry everything has fallen on you when you wanted another life,” Carlotta whispered between sobs.

Amazed by her unexpected sympathy, he hugged her shoulders and left rather than agree. He’d worked for his father before returning to the university and knew exactly what was expected of him. His father had a responsible staff, but they were in a daze along with his stepmother, and no one had stepped forward to oversee things. He’d train someone himself if he had to, but he wasn’t going to devote the rest of his life to the Ortiz Line. Although his father had tried to trap him, he’d broken free, and he’d do so again at his first opportunity.

When he returned home that evening, the cats were asleep in the middle of his model village. They hadn’t swatted the little cubes onto the floor, just curled themselves around them. They lifted their heads and focused their yellow eyes on him. “I hope your day was better than mine.” He hung his coat on the peg by the door and went to them. Romeo pushed against his hand while Juliet sat up and watched. He dropped Romeo to the floor, and Juliet jumped down by herself.

“I thought you two liked your bed.” Before he left in the morning, he’d pack up the little houses to keep them safe, and maybe put their bed on the table. He’d be spoiling them, but why not? He filled their bowls and went into the kitchen to see if he had anything he could possibly eat for dinner. Sorry he hadn’t bought something on the way home, he ate a cheese sandwich, leaning against the counter.

No matter how he added up the days, Ana had to realize she was pregnant soon. He needed to work on how he wanted to respond, but the words wouldn’t come any easier than his so-called proposal.

Ana was chopping chili peppers when she made the mistake of touching her eye. “Oh damn,” she cried.


Tags: Phoebe Conn Bullfighter's Daughter Erotic