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CHAPTER 9

There was no place in the world that smelled quite like Provence. Nathanael was sure of it. He liked to think if the southern region as the flower capital of France, with its hundreds of hectares of fields covered in blossoms like lavender and jasmine, roses and camelias, endlessly striving to fulfill the growing demand for essentials by the country’s internationally revered perfume industry.

He enjoyed the excitement and activity of living in the States. It was where he did most of his wheeling and dealing, where he and Alex made most of their money. But being in France always brought a sense of returning, a feeling that he was back where he belonged.

Although his deceased father was Belgian, he and his mother were French by birth. He’d spent many of his early years in the colder north of France, in circumstances that weren’t as pleasant as what he had now, but still, this was his home country and he was glad to be here.

From the upper windows of their house, they could see William’s château. And he was sure that for Shaundra, that would be a bonus, because it meant she could visit with Jacyn or Naisha any time.

As soon as he’d bought the beautiful Gothic Revival home, he’d had it gutted. He was happy with the façade. It contained large windows and sloping slated roof, but the interior had to be redone. The paintwork, wallpaper, carpets and furnishings were decades out of style, and as for the kitchen, every single appliance had needed to be replaced.

Since their arrival a week ago, Shaundra had thrown herself into her remodeling duties with gusto, spending hours with designers planning the full revamp, and patiently interviewing and hiring the large number of employees that would be necessary to run a place of this size.

She’d begun, of course, with a live-in nursemaid for the baby, a young Algerian woman called Samia who was trained as a nurse and came with impeccable references. But Nathanael had had Samia thoroughly investigated by a private firm before allowing her to set foot in the baby’s nursery. The safety of his household was one thing he had no intention of neglecting.

He knew that in the days leading up to their arrival, even the way he convinced her to take him back, had been shitty to the max. But his goal had been to get Shaundra back into his life. And even though he still contended that fatherhood wasn’t for him, his purpose in life included being a good husband to Shaundra. And bringing her here was where it started.

He stayed in the background for the most part, allowing Shaundra to do as she pleased with the decorating, only offering an opinion when she asked for one. He was simply grateful that she’d agreed to come with him in the first place. He was cautious about doing anything that would rock the—

“Hello! Nathanael! Drowning here!” Shaundra’s voice cut into his thoughts.

He looked down, realizing with a start that his mind had drifted. He was standing in chest-deep water with his arms out, while Shaundra lay there, having yet another floating lesson. She’d never been able to swim, at least, nothing more than the doggy paddle, and throughout their marriage nothing he could say or do had managed to convince her to take lessons. However, now that they were here and there was a massive pool on the grounds, she’d mustered the gumption to do something more than splash around in the shallows, provided that he gave her nightly lessons.

She certainly wasn’t adhering to the definition of ‘floating’ right now. Even though he was holding her, her hips were well below the water line and her lower half was sinking like a rock.

He lifted her prone body back to the surface again, but reminded her, “You aren’t drowning, Shaundra. We’re in four feet of water. You can stand.”

She made a face and griped back at him. “Maybe, but you’re supposed to be holding me. You’re a terrible teacher.”

“And you’re a God-awful pupil. I keep telling you that if you go limp, the water will hold you. But you don’t trust me.”

“YouI trust,” she countered, wriggling and kicking so that he loosened his grip and she stood facing him. “Thirty thousand gallons of water in a hole in the ground? Not so much.”

He looked at her for a long moment, enjoying the way the water dripped from her curls, and ran down her face to her lips. Clinging to her eyelashes, settling on her skin like pearls. In the soft glow of the pool lights, she looked so beautiful.

This perfect beauty,he thought.This is why I married her.

She gave him a quizzical look. “Nathanael?”

“You trust me?” He heard his own voice catch in his throat.

She looked mildly put out, as if she was mad at herself for saying that. “Not to let me sink, at least.”

“I’ll take that.”

He looked down at her, taking in the plain black one-piece swimsuit, a simple garment that demurely covered her breasts and belly, although the sides were cut just high enough to afford him a glimpse of her delectable hips. When she’d first donned the garment a few nights ago, he’d almost felt cheated. This wasn’t the style of swimsuit he was used to seeing on her, back when it was just the two of them, and they spent months gallivanting in places like Aruba, Polynesia and Madeira. He wondered if motherhood had changed her, made her more modest. He resisted the urge to rush online and order her a dozen bikinis from her favorite store.

She was still looking up at him, her face dewy wet. Skin flushed from their nightly exertion, lips plump.

He couldn’t help himself. Didn’t want to, actually. He lowered his head and kissed her.

To his relief, she didn’t pull away. They’d barely touched each other since they’d arrived in France, and the moment she’d chosen two adjoining bedrooms so that she could be next door to the baby as she slept, he’d opted for a third, explaining that he didn’t want to keep either of them up when he worked late at night. He could see from her reaction that she didn’t buy that story for a minute, but knew he couldn’t bear to back down. The sound of the baby’s cries at night, he knew, would kill him. He wished he could be a father like his friends, but—

And so, with their hectic days and separate nights, they’d had no opportunity to touch each other more than the occasional good morning peck on the lips. And tonight he was changing that.

He pulled her closer and wrapped his arms around her, pressing her against his bare chest. Enjoying the feel of her, the rhythm of her breathing rising and falling, growing faster.

Even though it was almost ten, the heated pool was like bath water, engulfing and embracing them. A tall hedge surrounded the large patio where the pool stood, and all they could hear were the cries of nocturnal creatures. They were completely alone, with perfect privacy, observed only by the constellations in the crystal sky overhead—and Nathanael didn’t give a damn about them.


Tags: Niomie Roland French Conquests Billionaire Romance