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Authors: Shirlee Busbee

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BOOK: Deceive Not My Heart
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Leonie stiffened and Mrs. Dobson had barely disappeared with Justin in tow before she rounded on Morgan.
"How dare you Slades!
How dare you and your mother go behind my back this way! We do not need your charity, monsieur! Give me my dowry and we shall be gone and you will not have to be embarrassed by our appearance!
Mon Dieu,
but you Slades are arrogant and overbearing!"

Morgan regarded her thoughtfully. If she was acting she was giving a magnificent performance, and almost idly he asked, "Why should the gift of a few gowns for yourself and breeches for the boy distress you? I am a rich man, as you well know, and as you've admitted money is your one reason for being here, why should you object if I choose to spend some of it on you?"

Leonie drew herself up proudly. "We want nothing from you, monsieur, except what is rightfully ours—my dowry!" she spat furiously.

"Why not consider the clothes part of the dowry?" Morgan countered, conscious of both the desire to shake her silly and kiss her senseless.

"Clothes!" Leonie said with loathing. "You think I would waste the money on clothes?" she asked incredulously.

"What would you use the money for?" he demanded. "Jewels? A larger carriage than all the other ladies possess?"

"There is only one thing that money will be used for," Leonie replied fervently. "Chateau Saint-Andre!"

Sardonically Morgan said, "Ah, yes, the ancestral acres. How stupid of me to have forgotten."

Leonie flinched at his words and, turning away from him, she said tonelessly, "You do not believe me, but it is true."

"As true as that marriage certificate you've thrust under my nose?" Morgan inquired cynically.

Her eyes flashing, Leonie spun around to face him. Approaching him, she snapped, "You, sir, are despicable! I wish I had never laid eyes on you!"

His own temper fraying, Morgan grasped one of her wrists and jerked her up next to him. "You no more than I," he snarled.

She was too tempting that close to him, and throwing caution to the winds, with something between a curse and a groan, his mouth captured hers in a kiss which punished and promised heaven at the same time. It had been unwise to touch her, he realized immediately, to feel her soft lips under his. The intoxicating nearness of that slim body which had haunted his dreams unleashed such a flood of achingly sweet desire that Morgan forgot everything but the woman in his arms.

The effect of that kiss was just as devastating to Leonie. Helplessly she fought to deny the rising tide of desire his touch evoked. Without volition her body pressed itself ardently to his, and when Morgan's arms tightened around her, she gave a small sigh of satisfaction, her lips responding to the hungry demand of his.

As Morgan deepened the kiss her breasts seemed fuller, more sensitive, and she was conscious of the sweet swirl of desire in her loins. Eagerly she returned his kiss, all of her passionate nature aroused; hungry for him, her fingers grasped his dark hair; unconsciously she moved her hips against his groin, excited and pleased to feel proof that he was as aroused as she was.

But even as Leonie gave herself up to the pleasure of his caress, the reality of the fact that she was blindly responding to the man she had the most reason in the world to distrust burst upon her, and with a choked little cry, she tore herself out of his arms. Putting several feet between them, she looked back at him with self-loathing and disgust. Her breath coming in short little gasps, she said fiercely, "You are not to touch me, monsieur! You promised and I shall not allow it! Touch me again and I will do something that will make you sorry you every laid a finger on me!"

Morgan froze and regarded her as the desire that had swept through him so urgently only a moment ago began to die. His breathing was uneven and there was a glitter in the blue eyes which made Leonie distinctly uneasy. "You little bitch!" he snarled. "Is it part of the plan to tempt and tease me too? Am I to be brought to my knees by desire for your little golden body? Is that the next step?"

Her expression puzzled and angry at the same time, Leonie snapped, "I do not know what you are talking about, monsieur!"

Morgan gave a mirthless laugh, his lips twisting into an ugly sneer. "Now why do I have trouble believing that?" The blue eyes swept over her. "You knew exactly what you were doing when you responded to my kiss. But be careful playing that particular trick, sweetheart. We might not be in such a public place the next time and then, you can be sure, I won't let you take back what you were so generously offering."

Leonie's bosom swelled with indignation. Holding onto her temper with an effort, she said tightly, "You will take me back to Le Petit
immediately,
monsieur! I do not want to stay here and certainly I do not want gowns that
you
have bought!"

His own temper hardly better held in than Leonie's, Morgan's face set in a hard line. "No," he said. "You're my wife, remember? And as my wife you will dress appropriately."

Leonie lifted her head proudly. "Bah! You care so much for what people will think?"

A grim little smile curved Morgan's mouth. "No, cat-eyes. I don't give a damn what people think, but I think that you do."

"What do you mean?" she demanded with a frown.

Morgan shrugged carelessly. "Just that you hope to use your lack of attire to your own advantage." His voice like steel, he added, "But you're not going to, my dear. You're going to try on the gowns that Mrs. Dobson has ready and we're going to select several more." Leonie's mouth opened in heated protest, but Morgan sent her a freezing look. "And if you don't cooperate," he finished savagely, "I'll take you in the fitting room and strip you myself."

The expression on his face made Leonie swallow.
Mon Dieu, but he would,
she thought. Knowing when she was beaten, with a nonchalant air that didn't fool him, she said, "Very well, monsieur, I will do it. If you wish to soothe your conscience this way, it is no concern of mine.... And it makes no difference as far as the dowry is concerned. You still owe me the full amount."

A mocking smile on his mouth, Morgan bowed. "We'll just have to wait and see about that, won't we?"

Leonie would have liked to continue the argument and she would have been delighted to find fault with everything that Mrs. Dobson had done. Unfortunately, she couldn't; the work was exquisite and Leonie was much too feminine not to appreciate the lovely garments.

Undergarments frothing with lace and ribbons were displayed for her selection, in addition to several nightgowns which made her catch her breath in pleasure. Noelle had commissioned only two ball gowns, one of an ever-changing amber-bronze silk that made Leonie feel like a queen, and another of a beautiful hue of moss green satin, that intensified the color of her eyes. Several day gowns had been selected and, while there were still many which were incomplete, six of the gowns could be made ready by the next day, Mrs. Dobson said cheerfully. The amber-bronze ball gown needed only an adjustment to the hem and then it too, would be sent along with the others to Le Petit. Looking at the moss-green gown, Mrs. Dobson remarked regretfully, "I'm afraid it'll take a few days longer for this one. Even as fast as my girls ply their needles, it will be next Wednesday before I can have it delivered. Will that be all right?"

When Leonie didn't answer, her gaze held spellbound by the gorgeous array of clothing, Morgan answered, "I think that'll be just fine."

Leonie tried to resist the appeal of the beautiful things laid before her, but she was only human. Like a starving waif at a feast, she sat and stared with hungry eyes as the lovely garments were shown to her, almost dazedly agreeing with every suggestion Mrs. Dobson made. Several more gowns were selected from the fashion plates and swatches of material. Numb with pleasure, Leonie could only nod her head in stunned accord with the various trims, laces, and embellishments which Mrs. Dobson recommended as finishing touches to the gowns. The question of shoes and slippers was discussed, Mrs. Dobson measuring Leonie's small foot and saying that she would see that several pairs of footwear were purchased and sent along.

It was only when she tried on the different gowns and, under Mrs. Dobson's friendly eyes, had been forced to parade in front of Morgan that Leonie's enjoyment faded. Justin's presence helped and, though he got rather bored, his enthusiasm for the amber-bronze ball gown was almost as great as Leonie's.

"Oh, maman!" he cried. "You are very beautiful,
oui?"
Turning to look up at Morgan he demanded, "She is, yes, papa?"

A peculiar expression in his eyes, his gaze never leaving Leonie's face, Morgan said huskily, "Yes, she is. Incredibly lovely."

Morgan was not just being polite; Leonie
was
incredibly lovely as she stood there before them. Her shoulders rose beguilingly from above the low-cut bodice, and the excellent fit of the gown cupped her small breasts lovingly. A high waistline, just beneath the bosom, hid her slender waist, but the fashionably slim skirt cunningly, yet discreetly, revealed the gentle swell of her hips. There was an added glow to her skin, the amber-bronze color intensifying the golden flecks in her eyes, even making the tawny hair shine like warmed honey as it tumbled about her shoulders.

Staring at her, Morgan was aware of his quickened breathing, but even more than that, he was aware of the sharp stab of pain in the region of his heart. She was so damned lovely, and he wanted her desperately... regardless of the game she was playing.

Leonie's face was the picture of bemused pleasure as she reverently touched the skirt. Her intense delight in wearing such a beautiful gown pushed Morgan's hateful presence from her mind, and watching her, seeing her enjoyment of the gown, Morgan felt a queer tenderness sweep through his body. He'd buy her hundreds of gowns just to keep that look on her face, he vowed, then laughed with silent mockery at himself.

And yet... The look on her face troubled him and he suddenly had the unsettling thought that she had never before in her life possessed anything quite as lovely. Perhaps those old gowns she and Yvette wore
were
the only gowns they had, he mused. Then, angry with himself for allowing himself to be moved by what must be a clever act, he glanced away and said to Mrs. Dobson, "Your work is to be complimented. And if the other gowns and fripperies are of this quality, I'm certain my wife will be most pleased."

* * *

Leonie was silent during the journey to the house and even Justin seemed disinclined to chatter away with his usual ebullience. Morgan was busy with his own thoughts and consequently there was little conversation as they drove home.

Once they reached the house, they went their separate ways. Morgan took the gig to the stables; Justin scampered off in search of his dinner, and Leonie sought out the quiet sanctuary of the summerhouse to sort out her thoughts.

Curled up in one of the woven-cane chairs of the summerhouse, she stared blankly through the wisteria-draped lattices, wondering at Morgan's inexplicable behavior.
He has changed again,
she thought with angry perplexity.
He was so hard and ugly to me before he left to visit Thousand Oaks and now...
Her little face was wistful.
And now he is being so charming... so... so... kind.
She frowned at that idea, her fierce pride wanting no
kindness
from Monsieur Slade.

Moodily she broke off a clump of the purple wisteria and unconsciously began to strip off the tiny clusters of flowers. Why hadn't he been angry about her visit to Judge Dangermond? she wondered again. And why, dear God, she thought erratically, do I find him so attractive?

She knew the answer to that particular question and she didn't like it one bit!
Mon Dieu, but I will not be in love with him!

But telling herself not to be in love with him was easier than actually doing it, and Leonie was grimly aware of that fact.
I am a fool,
she finally decided.
I have let my emotions become involved in what was and is purely a business transaction. I shall not,
she
vowed
,
make
that
mistake
in
my
future
dealings
with
Monsieur
Slade.

Feeling more confident within herself than she had in days, Leonie left the summerhouse and walked slowly toward the house, her thoughts busy with plans for the straightforward, practical, businesslike manner she would now display toward Monsieur Slade.
I shall treat him with cool, polite disdain,
she concluded firmly.
Certainly I shall not allow him to maneuver me as he did today.

Reaching her rooms, after a visit to the nursery where Justin had been installed in regal splendor, Leonie ordered a bath, and it was while she was emerged in the warm frothy water that she decided there would be no more of this polite dining together and the semblance of a happy marriage.
Non!
she would no longer take part in this ridiculous facade.

Rising somewhat abruptly from the rose-scented water, she brushed aside Mercy's offer of help and said, "I will not need you further tonight. I have decided to remain in my rooms for the evening. Please have Mammy prepare a tray for me and have one of the servants bring it up in an hour."

Mercy's black face was puzzled, but recognizing the stubborn expression, she shrugged her shoulders and did as she was told.

When Morgan entered the dining room that evening he was surprised to find Yvette, Robert, and Dominic the only occupants besides the servants. Cocking an eyebrow he asked, "Is Leonie delayed?"

BOOK: Deceive Not My Heart
12.77Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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