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Three
An extravagant arrangement of two dozen long-stemmed red roses awaited Noelle in her office at the back of her small dress shop in Sherdana’s historic city center. Coffee in hand, she stopped dead just inside the door and sucked in the rich, sweet scent of the enormous blossoms. She plucked a small white envelope from the bouquet, but didn’t need to read the card to know the sender. The scarlet blooms signaled Christian’s intent to stir up her quiet, perfectly ordered world.
Knowing she would get nothing accomplished with the roses dominating her efficient gold-and-cream space, Noelle called her assistant.
“Please get these out of here.” Noelle waved her hand dismissively. When curiosity lit Jeanne’s eyes, Noelle realized she’d let her irritation show.
Jeanne scooped the vase off the low coffee table. “Should I put them in the reception room?”
Noelle wanted to tell Jeanne to drop them into the trash out back. “Why don’t you put them in the workroom? That way the seamstresses could enjoy the flowers.”
“Are you sure you don’t want me to leave them here? They’re so beautiful.”
Noelle’s temper flared, sharp and acidic. Lack of sleep and frayed nerves were to blame for her reaction. She shook her head and strove to keep her voice calm as she tried to put a positive spin on her request. “Everyone has been working so hard. The flowers are for all of us,” she lied, feeling only the mildest twinge of guilt at deceiving her employee.
Once the flowers were gone, Noelle opened her office window to the beautiful morning and let in the fresh air, but after an hour she could swear the scent of the roses remained. Restless and edgy, Noelle slid her sketchbook into her briefcase. She would go to her favorite café and work on the designs for next winter’s collection.
The bell on the front door jangled, announcing a visitor. Because of her location among the quaint shops in the historic district, occasionally someone passing by would pop in, stirred by curiosity. Noelle’s shop carried no ready to wear wedding dresses, but because her wealthy clientele could often be difficult to please, she had several bridal gowns on hand that had been rejected for one reason or another.
Jeanne’s greeting carried down the hall as she approached whoever had entered the shop. Noelle gathered several pencils and froze in the act of dropping them into her briefcase. A deep voice rumbled in response to her assistant’s inquiring tone. The pencils clattered as they fell from Noelle’s nerveless fingers. Strong footsteps rang on the wood floor of the narrow hallway leading to her office. Feeling much like a cornered cat, Noelle glanced up and saw Christian’s imposing shoulders filling the doorway.
Cross that he’d followed up the flower delivery with a personal appearance, she spoke with unusual bluntness. “You were supposed to call me at ten not show up unannounced.”
“I came to see if you liked the roses.” He took in her pristine office and frowned. “Didn’t you receive them?”
“Yes. I put them in the workroom for my employees to enjoy.”
Not one muscle twitched in his face to betray his reaction, but she could tell her answer displeased him. She hated the way guilt rushed through her.
“I sent them to you.”
All the time they’d been together, he’d never once given her flowers. She’d understood her role in his life. First as a sounding board for all his frustrations and woes. Eventually, she’d become his lover, a convenient one that he could drop in on whenever he was feeling lonely or in need of comfort. She’d made no demands, expected nothing, and he’d given her mind-blowing sex in return. To be fair, while they’d been physically intimate she’d also enjoyed a great deal of emotional intimacy, as well. But out of bed, Christian donned the charming persona he maintained to keep people at bay.
The roses had reminded her how susceptible she’d once been to his charm. What if nothing had changed in the past five years? She needed to determine if she could trust her head to guide her. He mustn’t be allowed to think he could sway her with romantic gestures. For gestures were all they were.
“You’re not going to make this easy for me, are you?” He crossed the threshold, crowding her office with his powerful presence.
“Why should I?” Noelle liked having her elegant desk as a buffer between them, but didn’t want her entire staff hearing this conversation. Stepping out from behind the desk, she gestured Christian away from the door and closed it, trapping them together in the small space. “Five years ago you wanted nothing more to do with me. Now, you’re desperate for an heir and you want my son.”
“You forget that I came to see you last night knowing nothing about Marc,” he grumbled in his deep, beguiling voice. His intent was clear. He intended to throw every trick in his abundant arsenal at her. “I saw you at the wedding and knew I’d made a mistake letting you go all those years ago.”
His claim was so ridiculous she should have laughed in his face. But the words made her chest ache. How many nights had she lain awake, praying for his knock on her apartment door in Paris? Dreaming that he’d burst in, sweep her off her feet and declare he’d been a fool to let her go and that he couldn’t live without her. Too many. In fact, she hadn’t given up all hope until Marc’s first birthday.
“I don’t believe you.”
“If you give me a chance, I’ll prove it to you.” His dark gold eyes glittered with sensual intent.
A hysterical laugh bubbled up in her chest. She clamped her teeth together and fought to appear unflustered. No easy task when the masculine scent of the man awakened buried memories. A tingle began between her thighs as she relived the joy of his hands on her body, his lips on hers.
Last night she’d stood up to him, an alarmed mama bear protecting her cub. Today she was a woman confronting a man who intended to persuade and seduce. Heat bloomed in her cheeks. She scowled, angry with herself and taking it out on him.
“If you want me to take your interest in Marc seriously, you’d be better off demonstrating that you have what it takes to be a father.”
“I agree.” He nodded. “Which is why I sent a gift to Marc, as well.”
Noelle bit back a groan. “What sort of gift?”
“A small thing.”
