The French Aristocrat's Baby. Christina Hollis
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fly straight to the door, desperate to know what was happening. That would make a bad situation worse for her sophisticated guests. Instead, she had to wait along with everyone else. Minutes passed in silence. Then suddenly Etienne was there among them again. Breathing quickly, his dark curls tousled, he acknowledged the spontaneous applause with a diffident smile.
‘Your cheek is bleeding,’ Gwen said faintly, transfixed by the sight of a thin seam of blood trickling over the otherwise perfect surface of his sun-bronzed skin.
He stopped adjusting his clothes and looked at her.
‘There’s no need to sound so worried, mademoiselle,’ he murmured, as though not quite able to believe what she had said.
The strange way he spoke made Gwen think this man wasn’t used to being worried about—not on a personal level, at least. People might bow and scrape before him, but she had a shrewd suspicion they were only out for what they could get, like the countess. A surge of empathy kicked her into action. She knew what it was like to put on a brave show, and she might never get a chance to see such a gorgeous guy at close quarters again.
‘Of course there is, monsieur. Health and safety would never forgive me for standing by while one of my clients bled all over the place!’ she rallied. With a smile, she gestured towards the back of the restaurant. ‘Would you mind stepping into my office?’
Her heart was thundering loudly as she spoke. She was amazed he couldn’t hear it, and still more amazed at the devastating way he smiled and said, ‘Nothing would give me greater pleasure, mademoiselle.’
And with that he headed straight for the door marked ‘Mlle G Williams—Private.’
CHAPTER TWO
GWEN was busy wondering what she was going to do, now she had persuaded one hundred and eighty pounds of handsome hunk into her office.
The sight of Etienne standing outside on the balcony almost robbed her of the courage to go in. Silhouetted against the setting sun, his broad shoulders and tall, erect frame looked magnificent.
‘Entrez,’ he commanded.
Etienne Moreau was unlike any man Gwen had encountered before, but hearing him speak to her like that came as a shock. Her reply was instant and instinctive. ‘I was going to, monsieur. It’s my name on the door, isn’t it?’
He whipped around, as fast as her retort. Gwen didn’t have time to be alarmed. Astonishment became amusement as he focused on her face, and laughed.
‘Of course. What was I thinking of?’ he said with a winning smile.
Gwen had no idea. He was filling her mind with so many disturbing thoughts. It was all she could do to stop her legs trembling as she walked through the room towards him.
‘I’ve retrieved your wine, monsieur. And can I thank you for dealing with that drunk? It was so brave. You didn’t deserve to get hurt,’ Gwen said as she stepped through the French doors and joined him on the balcony.
‘Ordinarily I wouldn’t have done. He was wearing one of those cameo rings idiot boys have taken to wearing. That’s what did the damage.’
As he took the glass of Bordeaux from her the town below exhaled a warm breath into the evening air. It lifted the curtains behind her. Light flooding out from the office illuminated the ragged cut to his cheek. Gwen was transfixed.
‘Merci’, he said softly.
‘What about that cut?’ she managed eventually, her mind whirling with the tiniest details of it. ‘I’ll fetch the first-aid kit—’
‘That won’t be necessary.’
The same commanding tone that had summoned her into her own office drew her hand up to his face.
‘Oh, but you must at least let me clean it up for you—’ Unable to resist, she touched the spot lightly. Her fingers came away dark with blood. With a little gasp of dismay she swayed, accidentally brushing against him. ‘I’m sorry, monsieur,’ she muttered.
Etienne Moreau knew an advantage when he saw one. A smile spread across his face with all the promise of a new day dawning.
‘Are you, mademoiselle? I’m not. It’s brought us together.’
‘H-has it?’
Her eyes were wide and very blue, he noticed. It occurred to him that shock must have thrown the sophisticated chef-patron off her stride. The delicate fragrance of roses shimmering around her aroused something primitive in him. There was only one thing to be done. He decided to make everything all right for her, in the way he knew best. After months of growing discontent, this evening was turning into something memorable for him. He glanced at the wine in his hand. The last thing he needed now was alcohol. It might bring him back to earth.
He put the glass down.
A furious tide had engulfed him when he saw that lecherous drunk hassling her. Seeing such a man getting so close to this lovely girl was an outrage. She deserved much better. And now he was alone with her. Desire flamed within his body, fuelled by the purity of her clear blue eyes and those soft, slightly glossed lips. He hungered for her with a raw, naked need that would not and could not be denied.
‘Is there anything else you need, monsieur?’
Her voice was a whisper, her eyes full of anticipation.
‘Yes,’ he breathed. ‘You.’
She gazed up at him. Her eyes were large and full of questions Etienne could not wait to answer. His body took control, pulling her into his arms and holding her tightly against him. Gwen was in the grip of feelings so powerful that she simply melted against him. His hands went to her hair, his fingers digging through its thick tumble of soft, caramel-coloured curls. Tipping her head back, he feasted his eyes on her face. Uncertainly, she mirrored his movements, raising her hands to the lush darkness of his hair. It was short and silky, tempting her fingers to explore him with the same overpowering need that fuelled his desire. When his beautiful mouth took possession of hers it was with a passion that powered straight through her body.
Gwen had never experienced anything like it. Etienne Moreau overwhelmed her with such fire and urgency that she felt like a leaf in a hurricane. Her heart pounded, while her mind became a perfect storm of images—his tongue penetrating her mouth, his hands luring her onwards until he withdrew, teasing her. Gwen was left quivering from head to foot, at the mercy of so many sensations her brain could hardly cope. Hungry for his kisses, she rose on tiptoe, desperate not to lose contact with his body for an instant. Teased into peaks of excitement, her nipples thrust against the lacy restraint of her bra until it hurt. He was filling her senses so totally she barely noticed. She no longer knew or cared what was right or wrong.
Suddenly the wail of a police siren tore through the streets below, startling them both, and they jerked apart. Once she was deprived of the hard temptation of him, arousal flooded Gwen’s brain until speech was almost beyond her.
She looked up at him, still dazed, as he allowed his hands to drop lightly onto her shoulders and gently eased her away from him. Then he stepped back and looked down at her. His lips were slightly parted. She could see from the quick rise and fall of his chest that he was breathing fast. The arms that had held her so tightly now hung loosely by his sides, his hands and their long, strong fingers slightly curved. Her eyes took in every detail of him, from his hawk-like profile and the glint of perfect white teeth against the pale gold of his skin, to his easy stance. Here was a man who took women in his stride. As she slowly returned to earth after their paradise of a kiss a sudden increase in the clatter of silver and china from inside the restaurant dealt the final blow to her dreams. Dinner was being served. She had abandoned her staff when they needed her most. Kissing a man when she should have been supervising them was bad enough. When that man was also a guest and probably a friend of her landlord, her guilt became a real wall of worries.
Gwen had brothers. She knew what men were like.