Mother's Day Babies (Holiday Babies Series) (6 page)

“What you see here is a shame,”
she told her granddaughters. “Don’t ever desecrate a landmark monument, sweetie
pies. Even if you don’t have a weenie.”

Grinning at her outrage, Lou
whisked her away before she chastised the boy’s mother.

In the evening, Roxanne hired a
baby-sitter for her daughters. After dinner at a prestigious restaurant with
three TV executives and their wives, Barbara gave Lou his kiss on the cheek. He
managed to rain a few more on her temple and she left him with a quivering
smile and a puzzling look. But Lou had to soak his overheated and rigid body
under another cold shower.

Their first week in Paris was
almost at an end after a string of visits to monuments and museums during the
day with the company of Julia and Lucia who now adored him and insisted on
hanging on his neck or bouncing on his knees. The delicious lunches at various
sidewalk cafés turned into bottle feeding time. At night, their succession of
business dinners was followed by Lou’s eagerly awaited reward. The kisses
turned hotter and his showers colder.

Chapter Five

“Tomorrow we’ll attend the opening
of the TV Network Conference,” Lou announced as they settled for their first tête-à-tête
dinner in a simple restaurant in the
Quartier St-Michel
, the students’
neighborhood around the
Sorbonne
.

“It’s a fun place. Look at the
decorations. Like an old library,” Lou pointed to the wall painted with
bookshelves and leather-bound books.

Her gaze riveted on the young
people necking around them and she forgot to answer. An aura of sensuality
hovered in the dimness. Lou observed her.

Her flushed cheeks gave her away.
Ill at ease, she lowered her eyes to her plate and played with her food.

Lou repressed a grin. “They are
young, enjoying life.”

Well she was a bit old-fashioned
and holding onto her moral values. “I’m so glad I never allowed my daughters to
spend time in France during their college years.”

“If you’re finished with your
dinner, we can go,” he suggested, although he hated to see their evening end too
early.

“Yes, let’s go.”

The night was cold and the rain
pelted their raincoats. Lou hailed a taxi.

At the door of her room, he
gathered her against him and she touched her lips to his cheek. Lou didn’t kiss
her back. Yet his body throbbed with the need to hold her.

“Stay with me tonight,” he begged.

Like a scared dove, she shivered
in his arms, and then spun and opened her door. “Please, Lou, be reasonable.
Stop that game.”

“Game?” He groaned. He’d thought
he’d manage to seduce her with patience and persistence. And here she used her
soft, sensual voice to ask him to be reasonable when he was on fire. “Barbara,
my darling, you’re very special to me.” He grabbed her arms and peered into the
turquoise eyes that were becoming his universe.

“You too, Lou, but I don’t want
to be treated like your many girlfriends.” Her warm breath fanned his face and
fueled his ardor.

“Never, Barbara. Believe me, I
have the utmost respect, and friendship, and regard for you, but I want you,
more than I’ve ever wanted any woman.” Damn it, he’d never had to beg before. Women
usually raced him to his bed.

“Don’t push, Lou.” She dropped
her forehead on his shoulder and he kept her pressed against him.

Afraid to lose her with his
insistence, he released her and sighed. “I’m sorry, my darling. Have sweet
dreams.”

She cupped his cheeks and caught
his gaze. “I want you too, Lou. But I may hate you after. I’m not ready for
that yet.” She gave him a quick kiss on the lips, and closed the door in his
face.

Dumbstruck, he smacked his
forehead. All he’d wanted when he invited Barbara to Paris was a good friend
who could share with him the nice family atmosphere he’d never known, make him
forget about the heartache Monica had sown into his life.

Why had he suddenly decided he
wanted Barbara in his arms? He knew all along that she’d been a faithful wife,
a widow loyal to her husband’s memory, and a dedicated mother who lived and
breathed for her children. Why had he let her get under his skin?

****

Eyes closed, Barbara leaned
against the door of her room and wrapped her arms around herself. How long
would she be able to resist the onslaught of his charm? Her body tingled all
over. Would it be so bad to taste his kisses and lay in his arms?

Oh David, why did you leave
me?
More than seven years had gone since the last time they made love.
She’d never missed him as much as tonight. But he would never come back.

She thought she’d have some
innocent fun visiting Paris with Lou who’d really become her best buddy. They
trusted each other. They chatted together, really talked and listened. They
knew everything about each other. True, he never revealed details of his social
life, but she’d heard a lot of gossip from her daughter. When he invited her, he’d
only insisted he wished to share her family joys.

She couldn’t label him a selfish
womanizer. Never. With her, he’d been anything but...

He still had to reveal the
reasons for his prolonged bachelorhood. Had a woman badly hurt him in the past?
Probably. Lou was too much of a decent guy.

Her head ached and she pressed
her palms to her temples.

If she ever wanted to remarry,
she would choose Lou without hesitation. But he’d never mentioned any desire
for commitment. And frankly, she would never consider marrying again. Not when
she’d gotten used to her freedom.

But darn, she wanted to feel a
man’s warm body against hers.

Her dry throat hurt. She rubbed
her neck and reached in the small refrigerator for a bottle of water. Still
every part of her body could use a massage, a gentle stroke, a caress.

Oh God, I’m losing my mind
.

She should try to sleep and
forget her crazy needs. With shaking hands, she removed her clothes and underclothes
and threw everything on a chair. The crisp temperature of the air-condition
setting cooled her overheated flesh. Stark naked, she glared at the mess, she’d
just created, she, the accomplished housewife. Even though no one would see it,
she picked up her things and padded to hang them in the closet.

A knock on the door startled her.

“Yes?” Her voice shivered as her
gaze skated over her own nudity.

“Barbara, it’s me.”

Panic vibrated through her body.
“Lou, what’s wrong? Has something happened to Roxy?”

“No. I just need to talk to you.
Please let me in.”

“Just a minute.” She yanked her
robe from a hanger, knotted the belt at her waist, and wobbled to the door. Her
hand froze on the knob. She couldn’t receive him like this. She needed underwear,
a bra, and more clothes. “Just a minute,” she repeated while twirling around to
face the room.

Her mind blanked. What to wear
now? She rushed to the dresser, opened the drawers one after the other. Her bra
was in the middle drawer, her undies in the bottom one. She jerked the belted
robe over her head, slipped her undies on and hooked her bra.

“Barbara, please.”

“Yes, yes, coming.” She ran back
to the closet, grabbed a dress, and slid it over her head. Darn, it was upside
down. She pulled it up and reached for the next hanger. Her satin nightgown. Oh
what the heck. She donned it and dropped the belted robe over it. “I’m here.
With a deep sigh, she plodded to the door.

“Barbara.” Lou stepped forward
and squeezed in the room, wearing sleeping shorts. The unbuttoned top revealed
a shag of black hair tapering toward the elastic band of his shorts.

Her jaw sagged and her cheeks
flamed. Stunned, she stared at him and then glared. “You mind telling me what
this is all about?”

His mussed hair and haggard face
attested to his unsettled mood. “Barbara, I haven’t slept for four days. I stay
awake in bed thinking of you, yearning for you. Why can’t you come to me? Am I
that awful? Do I scare you?”

 She averted her gaze. “It’s not
you. It’s me. I can’t betray David’s memory.”

“Your husband loved you. He’d
want you to be happy, with a good man to take care of you.”

 Her eyes widened. “Take care of
me? How?”

“Let me show you.” He pulled her
against him and covered her face with kisses. His masculine delicious scent
swirled around her and fogged her thoughts.

“Lou, I’m not a one-night
person.” She struggled to breathe, but a vacuum seemed to engulf her.

“Not just one night. An eternity
with you.” His heavy breathing burned her neck.

Trying to be understanding, she
murmured. “Oh Lou, you just miss you latest girlfriend.”

He backed up and held her at arm’s
length. “Barbara, I haven’t been with any girlfriend since I met you. I kept
comparing every woman to you. None had your class, your kindness, or your
beauty.”

“Still we’ve been together for
only a week.”

“I know you better than any woman
I’ve dated for months. My dates never bother to talk to me. We go out, have
dinner, and end in bed.”

“Isn’t that what we’ve been doing?
Only I haven’t agreed to the last part of the deal.”

“No, Barbara. Don’t compare our
relationship to that. Don’t degrade our special feelings for each other.”

“Which feelings, Lou?”

He wiped his forehead with a
tired hand. “I don’t know yet. I’m trying to understand myself.”

Was he feeling the same irresistible
attraction that tormented her? Was he scared by the depth of that attraction as
she was?

“I’m trying to understand too.”
She smiled. “But let me reassure you. You’re far from awful, and you don’t
scare me.” To prove her point, she cupped his cheek. He grabbed her hand and
blazed her palm with a kiss.

Fire burst in her belly. She knew
she was lost. He must have realized it too.

“Darling, trust me,” he whispered
against her hair. “You won’t regret it.”

His palm cradled her face and his
lips captured her mouth.

Their first proper kiss.

She melted against him, her
fingers hooked on his shirt. His tongue slipped between her lips, invaded, and
caressed. Her own tongue met his timidly and careened joyously. All thoughts fled
her.

She moaned, her chest heaving.
His lips roamed over her face, and trailed blazing kisses across her cheek and
along her throat. “Darling, I think I’m falling in love.”

Happy bells chimed in her ears.
She heard them loud and clear.

Lou raised his head and scowled.
She flinched. Was that his phone ringing?

Their eyes met. He shoved his
hand in his shorts pocket and glanced at the id. “Damn. We’ll let it ring.”

“No. What if it’s Roxanne?”

He exhaled loudly. “It’s not.” He
stomped to the chair next to the desk and took his call.

Barbara sat on the bed and tried
to calm her erratic breathing.

“What’s going on now?” he barked
in the phone with a tone she’d never heard him use.

“I sent you the money. What
now?... I said I can’t come... Call 911. Go to the ER.” His voice rose with
every word.

Barbara gasped. Someone was hurt.
She concentrated on his words.

“Don’t try to make me feel
guilty... Who’s the father? ... What do you want to do Monica? Get an abortion?...
Stop crying, I can’t hear you.”

Horrified, Barbara pressed her
hand on her mouth. Who was Monica?

Was she pregnant? By Lou?

It was one thing to have a string
of short-term lovers and another to use a woman and reject her when she needed
him.

Nauseated, her heart thumping
against her chest, Barbara wanted to throw up. Her tongue cleaved to her palate
and she couldn’t utter a word. She remained slouched on her bed and wiped her
mouth to erase the taste of his lips and tongue—a taste that had delighted her
a moment ago.

“You can’t throw your problems on
me now. I’m three-thousand miles away... Stop crying, Monica. Go to the
hospital... Yes, I’ll call you tomorrow. I promise.”

He shut his phone and rubbed both
palms over his temples.

“I’m sorry for the interruption.”

“You’re not going to help your
girlfriend?” Barbara snapped, her voice chilly. “She maybe pregnant with your
child and you’re abandoning her?”

“My child?” His eyes narrowed.
“What are you talking about?”

“This Monica. She’s pregnant from
what I heard. She was begging you to help her. And you ignore her. You’re
despicable. To think...” Barbara covered her face with her hands. To think she
was about to fall in his arms, to sleep with him when his former lover writhed
in pain.

“You don’t understand.” He
extended a hand to her. “Barbara—”

“Get out of here.” A shudder
raked her and she bounced off her bed, pointing to the door. “Now.” Tears
rolled on her cheeks. She was crying for herself and her broken dream that
hadn’t even sprouted, and for the poor woman he’d just ignored.

He groaned. “Let me explain.”

“Explain what? That Monica is a
former girlfriend bothering you at the wrong moment.”

His face hardened. “You really
don’t trust me.”

“I heard it with my own ears.”
Her breathing echoed his.

He heaved a deep breath and
fisted his hands. His lips thinned. Anger carved his chiseled features, but his
gaze didn’t waver from hers. “Monica is my daughter.”

“Your what?” The room spun around
Barbara. Her heart stopped beating for a second.

“My daughter,” he repeated with
dejection.

Chapter Six

“How come Roxanne never mentioned
you have a daughter?”

“Because I never talk about Monica.
I haven’t seen her in years. Heck, she’s not even sure she’s my daughter.” He
averted his gaze and stared far away, at images from his past probably. His
fingers clutched his chest.