Page 82 of Frankly, My Dear

Selene needed to change the subject, and fast, before the bourbon and James’s even more intoxicating closeness turned her brain to putty. She was supposed to be the one in control of this seduction.

“I came down here to talk to you about Etienne,” she said huffily, setting down her empty glass. Her lips felt numb as she spoke, and she wondered if that small smile on James’s wonderful lips was an indication that she’d slurred her words.

“What about Etienne? Has he been tormenting you in some way? He hasn’t been playing his snake pranks again, has he?”

Snakes! Selene shuddered at that horrid possibility. “No, I’ve got his tricks under control.”

“And what tricks did you use to manage that great feat?”

She ignored his question. “He’s gifted, James. You need to know that Etienne is a gifted child, and you must do everything you can to nurture his talents.”

“Gifted? What the hell is gifted?”

“He’s exceptionally intelligent. He reads at a level twice his age. He grasps complex concepts with ease. I’m not an expert at these things, but I believe his I.Q. is extremely high. You have to plan for his future.”

“I won’t even ask what an eye-cue is. But, oui, I have noticed his brightness.” He shrugged. “What would you have me do? There isn’t much call for a scholar sugar farmer.”

Selene raised her chin indignantly. “There isn’t much call for a dumb sugar farmer, either.”

“Touché,” he said, flashing that damn dimple at her again. “So what are you suggesting? That I keep you here to steer Etienne’s education in the right direction?”

Selene brightened. “I hadn’t thought of that, actually, but now that you mention it—”

He laughed. “Selene, ma chérie, you are as transparent as that outrageous garment you are flaunting. What is it anyway? The mosquito barre from your bed?”

“No, you brute. And this is not transparent,” she said, looking down to check just in case she’d missed something. “And I’ll have you know it was a gift from your mother.”

His chin almost dropped to the floor with that news. “My mother? My mother?” he sputtered. “Now you drag my mother into your schemes.”

“I did no such thing,” she retorted indignantly.

“You are leaving here on Sunday, and that is final.”

Don’t be too sure about what’s final or not final, my good friend. I haven’t begun to fight, Rhett, baby.

“What else is on your mind?” he asked, and at first Selene worried that he might have read her thoughts. “You look as if you’re ready to engage me in a bout of fisticuffs.”

“Someone ought to knock you silly.” She counted to ten silently to get her temper under control. “I wanted to know if I could include some of the other children in Etienne’s classes. Cain, Abel, whoever might be interested. It wouldn’t be any harder to teach ten children than one, in my opinion. And it seems a shame to…What? Why are you looking at me so funny?”

“You would be willing to teach the children from the quarters? That wouldn’t bother you?”

“Why should it?” she asked in confusion.

“Because they’re colored.”

“Oh, good Lord!”

He stared at her strangely, swallowing hard several times as if struggling with some internal turmoil. “I just don’t understand you,” he said finally in a low voice.

“That’s okay,” she said with a smile, the buzz in her head turning into a roar. Somehow she’d forgotten her original plan—to make the jackass suffer for sending her away. She slanted him a saucy, under-the-lashes look, intended to be seductive. “Do you like what you don’t understand?”

He grinned. “Oui. I think I like it a whole hell of a lot.”

“Well, that’s encouraging.”

“Why?”

She fluttered her eyelashes at him in an exaggerated demonstration of her supposed coyness. She only hoped she wasn’t looking at him cross-eyed with drunkenness. “A girl’s got to have a few secrets. Let’s pretend I’m just like any other person in the world who likes to be liked.”