Part 26 (1/2)

”Oh, Mademoiselle la Comtesse, how good to see you.” She tried to curtsy again, but Angelica quickly secured an arm around Madame Blanche's shoulders, halting her intent.

”So good to see you too. My, what a lovely dress, Madame.” Angelica peeked up at Simon.

He watched and smiled, yet she noted, disheartened, that the smile on his lips didn't reflect in his eyes.

”Why, thank you. It's so kind of you to say so. You know, I've made gowns for many important women in France. Women of the aristocracy, just like yourself, wo-”

”Madame Blanche.” Angelica abruptly stopped the woman's flow of words and grabbed Gabriella's hand. ”Madame Dragani is in need of new gowns. Isn't that so, Gabriella?”

”Ah...yes! Yes, it is.” She wanted to kiss her friend for her a.s.sistance.

”Madame Dragani?” Madame Blanche looked around as though noticing the others for the first time. ”Oh my, forgive my manners.” She was quick to greet Simon, Sabine, and Gabriella. ”How wonderful, Madame Dragani! Please, come this way. I shall attend to you.” The older woman gestured toward her shop.

Angelica and her two friends exchanged knowing nods. She was happy to see them walk away with the dear dressmaker.

Madame Blanche turned. ”Oh, Mademoiselle la Comtesse, you must come too. I have set aside my finest fabrics for you.” She raised a hand, halting Angelica's response. ”Now, I know Suzette has made you lovely gowns. She is indeed talented with a needle, but I would ask for the honor of making you a gown. My gift to you.” The woman curtsied low.

Angelica briefly closed her eyes, wis.h.i.+ng Madame Blanche wouldn't continue to stand on unwanted ceremony. She felt Simon place his hand at the small of her back. The thrill of his touch made her insides dance. She wanted to be alone with him. She didn't want to discuss gowns, and she certainly didn't want the constant references to her cla.s.s-a cla.s.s she'd never really belonged to-in front of Simon. She couldn't leave dear Madame's presence fast enough.

”Madame Blanche, you are too generous, but-”

”Oh, I insist! A lovely gown for our island's exalted citizen,” she gushed. ”An Aristo!”

Dear G.o.d, could the woman not be silent? She felt Simon remove his hand from her back. She stiffened, not wis.h.i.+ng to see what was reflected in his eyes. Then he brushed his fingers against the nape of her neck before he rested his warm palm there.

Leaning in, he said softly in her ear, ”It is just a gown. Let her make it for you. It will make her very happy.”

He was right, of course. Why was she refusing? It was only making matters worse, and Madame Blanche had only good intentions.

Angelica smiled. ”I accept your lovely gift. Thank you, Madame.”

”Oooh!” She clapped her hands with glee. ”Come. I shall take your measurements.”

”Not today, Madame.” Simon surprised Angelica with his answer. She looked up at him questioningly. Returning her gaze, he said, ”Perhaps tomorrow.”

Angelica seized the opportunity of escape Simon had just created for her. ”Yes! Tomorrow would be better.”

Madame Blanche looked slightly disappointed. ”Certainly. Tomorrow it is, then. I shall make you the finest gown-”

”You shall make her four fine gowns,” Simon interjected.

”Four?” Angelica and Blanche asked in chorus.

”Yes. One will be a gift from you, Madame, and the other three, gifts from me. Only the finest fabrics are to be used 'befitting her station of birth.'”

”Oh, Captain, of course. Until tomorrow!” She curtsied for Angelica one last time before rus.h.i.+ng back to her shop.

Angelica turned to Simon, frowning.

”I don't require gowns 'befitting my station of birth.' I don't desire excesses. Nor do I need pampering. n.o.bility and its trappings do not hold importance to me.”

The last thing Simon wanted was to argue about this now. He simply smiled, indicating a state of cheerfulness he didn't feel. ”What if I wish to pamper you for the simple pleasure I would derive from it? I am hardly poor. I can afford to buy you some gowns.”

He saw she was about to protest further and cupped her cheek. Drawing his thumb lightly over her lips, he quelled her words. ”Angelica, although you would be stunning barefoot, wearing sackcloth, I enjoy seeing you in finery. Allow me to buy them for you. Like Madame Blanche, it would make me happy.” But that was not the entire truth. He wanted her to have gowns just as an Aristo would. She would need them when she returned to her proper life.

And there was a part of him that wanted her to have something from him. He couldn't help wondering if she'd think of him years from now. It shouldn't matter whether she did.

He shoved the thoughts away, unsettled by them and the emotions warring inside him. He had to be detached-reminding himself why he'd agreed to her arrangement in the first place. To purge her from his system.

He had to believe what he felt for her was no more than a mere infatuation. Eventually, as with the others, he'd have his fill. Then he could go on with his life. And she could do the same. In France. Within her rightful social circle.

”I shall accept your gift only because it makes you happy,” she said, ”but there are things I seek that would please me.”

He shouldn't ask; the warm look in her eyes gave him pause. ”What do you seek?” The words left his mouth nonetheless.

She stepped forward and surprised him when she slipped her arms around his waist-right in the middle of the village for everyone to see. Rising up onto the b.a.l.l.s of her feet, she brought her mouth close to his ear and said, ”You.”

The single word and her display of public affection left him feeling as if warm, sweet nectar had just melted over his insides.

Before he realized it, his arms had encircled her, and his cheek rested against her silky curls. He couldn't bring himself to ask if she meant his body or...more. Either way, he didn't want to know the answer.

Noticing a number of onlookers, remembering himself, his plan, and his lunch arrangement, Simon murmured near her ear. ”I have a surprise for you. I've cleared my commitments for the rest of the day, and if you are free, perhaps I can interest you in sharing a picnic with me.” Dieu, he needed this time with her. Time and overindulgence. That was the remedy for breaking this fever.

She pulled back instantly. Delight danced in her eyes. He fought back the urge to pull her to him again.

”How wonderful. Where?”

Her smile was contagious. ”Somewhere special.”

”More surprises, Simon?” She took his hand in hers. ”If you keep this up, I shall become spoiled and unbearably demanding.”

A soft chuckle escaped him. ”I have no problem indulging your every carnal whim,” he felt constrained to say, forcing himself to keep their involvement within the boundaries that were comfortable for him-s.e.xual in nature only.

He was glad he had the entire afternoon and into the night to spend with her. Most of all, he was grateful for the weeks that still lay ahead before he'd return to face France and Fouquet.

Time would be his greatest ally. It was time to focus on decadent pleasures, to focus on his plan and indulge in this delectable woman.

Chapter Twenty.

The sound of rus.h.i.+ng water pouring over gray rock mingled with their quickened breaths and soft moans. Lying on a blanket near the natural pool, their lunch now forgotten, his doublet and some of her clothing scattered around them, Simon realized he was a drowning man.

Drowning in the woman under him.

He sat up abruptly, his breathing labored, overwhelmed by the intensity between them. And the foreign, unrelenting emotions overtaking him.

He dragged a hand over his face. Dieu. He needed a moment.