By Request Collection April-June 2016. Оливия Гейтс
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looked from one to the other, her intelligent glance veiled.
‘We’ll discuss it again,’ Shari told her, cheeks blazing. ‘I’ll let you know.’
‘Bien sûr,’ the doctor said easily. ‘I will write it in and we can always eliminate it if we decide to.’
They would decide to, Luc thought, pierced by Shari’s blush. Somehow he would persuade her out of it. He thought guiltily back to the day he’d snapped at her in the café. He’d planted that seed of insecurity in her himself with his own careless tongue. Added to the Rémy effect …
Was it any wonder she believed he didn’t trust her?
It was a delicate balancing act, keeping a woman happy and secure without making her feel as pinned as a butterfly. How did guys achieve it? With a cold anxious burr it occurred to him that if he wasn’t careful she’d be on the next plane to Australia.
And then what?
A flash of his life before she came into it chilled his soul like a sudden arctic breeze. He wouldn’t let her go. Not without a fight.
‘I wish I didn’t have to return to work,’ he said thickly out in the street, pausing to shower her face in kisses. ‘I want to be with you. I could have you right here against this lamppost.’
‘Flattering, but would it be wise, monsieur? I’d rather not be arrested.’
He laughed, but, surrendering to her protest, escorted her to the car with his arm around her waist, brimming with positive energy that communicated itself to Shari.
‘Now we know we are safe we can begin to tell our friends, n’est-ce pas?’
Shari nodded excitedly. ‘Good. I can’t wait to tell Neil. He and Em’ll be over the moon. But …’ She shot him a glance. ‘I think it might be best for your mother to hear it from us first.’
His dark eyes shimmered with some mysterious knowledge. ‘Ah, oui. Maman will like you to tell her. And we must start some serious planning. We need to research the schools. And you’ve never said … Do we want a nanny? And I’m wondering if we need to hire a dietician to prepare your meals from now on. What do you think?’
She stared incredulously at him.
‘No?’ He burst into an amused laugh. ‘But I am thinking of hiring a car with a driver for you. You shouldn’t be travelling on the métro. It’s too much of a risk. Anything could happen.’
‘Now just hold on there. I like catching the …’
Luc stiffened momentarily and the words died on Shari’s lips.
A taxi had drawn in behind their car and a woman got out to help another alight. When the second one straightened up Shari saw she was heavily pregnant, moving with the changed gait brought about by the redistribution of body weight. She was in jeans and heels, her enormous bump lovingly outlined by a tightly fitted shirred top. Her hair had been cut in a short, sleek, very chic bob, and she wore minimal jewellery, apart from some bangles and hoops in her ears.
Noticing Luc, she teetered backwards on her heels for an instant, and Luc lunged forward to steady her. He barely had time to touch her elbow before her companion stepped in and took a firm steadying grip of her other arm.
With a sharp pang Shari recognised that face. Who else at her advanced stage of pregnancy could manage to be so elegant? And she was, Shari acknowledged. Truly elegant. With a glowing, luminous beauty.
Luc smiled, though there was a hard glint in his narrowed eyes.
‘Ah. Manon. What a magnificent surprise,’ he said in French.
The beauty inclined her head. ‘Luc.’
‘Imagine meeting you here, of all places.’ How could such suave and graceful words be so punishing? ‘And looking so—robust. Not bored with America, I trust?’
Manon glanced quickly at her friend, then pushed back her sunglasses. Her gorgeous amber eyes were defiant. ‘I could never be bored with America. But where else does one go at this beautiful time of life?’
Her glance flicked sideways to Shari for a bare instant, then back to him.
There was a screechingly silent abyss when no one said anything, then the other woman tugged at Manon and hustled her into the clinic.
On the trip home, the atmosphere in the Merc had a certain explosive fragility. It crept in upon Shari that her situation was really very precarious. It was terrifying to think, but there was a horrible possibility about the man she loved she needed to take into account.
If he was still fixated on Manon, how long would he be likely to stay with her? Until the birth? Until the babe was a week old? Three months? And if he left her, would he be content to leave his baby behind?
A familiar claw caught her entrails in a death grip. She knew nothing of French law in the matter of child custody. But how likely was it that a mother—who wasn’t even a citizen—would take precedence over the father who was?
In one swoop the excitement of the fantastic visit to the clinic was wiped.
‘She’s very beautiful,’ she said, fluttering her lashes to draw his attention to the fact that hers were at least as long as Manon’s. ‘More beautiful than her pictures.’ He made no answer, but she persevered. ‘Did you know she was pregnant?’
His dark eyes were cool and veiled. ‘I may have heard.’
‘It’s—quite a coincidence.’
‘How is it a coincidence?’
‘Well … you and she were together. Now she’s pregnant, and here you and I are …’
‘Life goes on. And …’ He turned his head, and said softly, ‘You are beautiful.’
Really? If he hadn’t been so angry with Manon, she might have let herself believe him. ‘Was that her sister with her—some relative?’
‘I can’t say. I barely looked to see.’ He glanced at her, his dark eyes softening. ‘Chérie, don’t allow this accident of timing to bother you.’
She smiled. ‘It’s not. Why would it? I wish you had introduced me, though.’
‘Ah. I’m sorry.’
‘You could have said, “Allow me to present my pregnant friend, Shari.”’
He flushed. ‘Yes, I should have, but it was a shock, you know, coming upon her so—unexpectedly.’
‘Mmm. I sensed that.’ She compressed her lips.
‘This is the first time I’ve seen her in seventeen, eighteen months. The last time I saw her we were … she and I were engaged in mortal combat.’
She could just imagine it. The drama and the passion. Especially the passion. ‘Who was the victor?’
‘Oh, Manon, bien sûr. A man has no chance against a woman with claws extended.’
Her heart pained. How he must have loved the beautiful woman, to feel so bitter. She wished she’d never asked.
‘You must miss her,’ she observed coldly.
‘Shari.’ His gentle chiding tone made her feel ashamed. Advertising her neediness was hardly the way to inspire a man to love her. She felt her throat thicken, but held back the tears for all she was worth.
The rest of the journey seethed with an unbearable silence. When they drew up in the street before their apartment building, he turned to her, his intelligent eyes alert and at the same time grave.
He hesitated, then took her hand and said firmly, ‘I don’t miss her, mon amour. I’m with you now. I’ve moved on. We all have.’
‘Sure.