IntheArmsofaLover (7 page)

She gathered up the clothes she’d strewn all over the room
and after a quick shower decided he had to get up. He was her lift back home
after all. Looking down at him, dark lashes brushing his tanned cheeks, she had
a sudden urge to yank back the bedclothes, take his soft and quiescent cock between
her lips and rouse him in the best possible way. But, she reminded herself, she
had to get to work and she needed him to take her there.

She settled for a kiss on his forehead and ruffling his dark
hair. It worked. “Good morning. Hate to wake you but I need a lift back into
Nice.”

“
Mon Dieu
! Poppy!” He was wide awake in seconds
peering at the clock. “I have to go too!” He leapt out of bed, giving her the
delightful view of a full frontal, and kissed her hard and well. “I must get
ready. Please, call down for coffee and whatever you need, I must shower and
then we must run.” As he crossed into the bathroom she took a moment to admire
his arse. Nice body. Nice man come to that. Would he prove to be a nice lover?
Time would tell.

She wouldn’t get too optimistic until they had a good long
talk. Meanwhile she ordered
café complet
for two.

“I ought to say thank you,” Poppy said as he emerged from
the bathroom, perfectly groomed she couldn’t help noticing, and downed a small
cup of black coffee and took a bite from a croissant.

He raised one dark eyebrow at her. “You’re thanking me?”

“Of course, for a fantastic dinner and a truly memorable and
unforgettable evening.”

“I’ll do my best to make sure you don’t forget it,” he replied,
as he set the cup back on the tray. “Come, we have to go.”

* * * * *

“You liked me holding you down?” he asked, as they headed down
the hill.

“Couldn’t you tell?”

“Yes, I could tell.”

“How did you guess?”

He hesitated as if unwilling to be direct. “I just knew but
I’d like to know what else you like. Do you like to be tied down?”

Better pick her words carefully here. “I did with Tommy, but
I knew him well and trusted him.” That was how it was and if he took umbrage
she’d no doubt thrown away a good chance.

“I will do all I can to earn your total trust, Poppy.” Fair
enough. “Meanwhile let us meet for lunch and talk about what you will permit
me.”

“Okay, where?”

He suggested Chez Freddy in the Flower Market, a place she’d
walked past often but never splurged on. “Wonderful, I get off for an hour at
two. “ It was late for lunch but as the newest employee, that was her luck.

“I will be waiting for you.”

* * * * *

That was nice prospect but maybe she needed a day or so to think
about last night. Not that she even had ten minutes as the shop was busy and in
the middle of a hectic morning, Helen texted her. Could she come by the estate
later that afternoon, if convenient? She wanted Poppy’s input over furniture
and some details about the house.

And if that wasn’t enough for one morning, who should stroll
into the shop about eleven but Didier?
He
wanted her to have lunch with
him and seemed prepared to hang around until she was ready to leave.

Stressed out with the
patronne’s
eyes on her, Poppy
told him not today and she’d call him later but perhaps they shouldn’t see each
other again.

He wasn’t happy at that and stomped out of the shop, deliberately—or
so it seemed—knocking over a display of postcards and lavender bags.

When Poppy finally broke for lunch, she headed down the
flower market with a torrent of mixed feelings. Feelings that switched to
delight at seeing Stéphane seated at an outside table, a large bottle of San
Pellegrino at his elbow.

He’d been watching, smiling the minute he caught sight of
her. He was gorgeous and the light in his blue eyes brought back the image of
him naked. She returned his smile, but felt herself blushing. Ridiculous! Women
her age didn’t blush.

“You came,” he said, rising from his seat and reaching out
to her to offer a nice, friendly French
bise
on each cheek. She’d rather
fancied more but that would come later. Please let it come.

“Of course I did. I said I would.”

“You have made me happy.”

“You did the same for me last night. It was pretty
marvelous.”

“Yes, it was.”

Apparently they were in complete agreement on that point.
Now what? Menus, it seemed. Of course, this was France and conversation took
second place to food.

“Are you hungry?” he asked, looking at her over the menu.
Who was he kidding? After their hasty breakfast her stomach was rumbling. “I
have a suggestion…”

She was listening but something caught her eye as she
scanned the menu. “
Moules frites
.”

He looked up. “Why not, and what shall we drink?”

“Not too much, I’ve got to go back to work.” And so, presumably,
did he.

He ordered a half-liter of rosé and, as he raised his glass,
said, “To us.”

“Yes, to us.” She put the glass back down. “You said we
needed to talk and I agree, but this is a bit in the open.”

“You think I cannot be discreet?”

Not precisely. “I think we need to be circumspect.”

“Very well, you like being restrained. I enjoy restraining
my partners shall we start there?”

Good enough point as any given just his words sent a
delicious shiver of anticipation down her spine. “I do. I did last night, but
tell me first, how did you know?”

He hesitated, taking a sip of wine before replying. “To tell
the truth, I did not know for absolute certainty but thought you might. If you
had objected, I would have released you immediately.”

Fair enough. “Well I do like it and did very much last night.
That was a lucky guess on your part.” Or was it? “Are you always Dominant in
bed?”

That had him almost choking on his wine. “You are direct.”

“You said we needed to talk. Let’s talk about what we like.”

“Very well. Yes, I do like to dominate but not all women are
willing to submit.”

“I am, up to a point at least. Assuming you want to
continue.” Although he’d hardly be here if he didn’t, would he?

“Most certainly, I do. I can picture you in chains.”

She had a few moments to think that over as two waiters
appeared bearing deep pans of mussels. Poppy had to try one. “Just a minute.”
It was fantastic, redolent of garlic and wine and herbs. She ate three, seeing
he’d tucked into his just as eagerly. “About chains,” she went on, once the waiters
were out of earshot. “Not now. At least not yet.”

“I understand. Last night I said I’d endeavor to earn your
complete trust. I will. You tell me when you’re ready. One day I hope you will
trust me enough to let me tie you down spread-eagle on the bed and flog you,
but until then we explore and experiment.”

Sounded fair enough to her. “I’d enjoy that.”

There was another pause as they devoured another half-dozen
mussels.

“One thing I do want to do most earnestly,” Stéphane said, “is
to spank you. Will you permit that?”

It was a good thing she hadn’t actually put the next mussel
into her mouth. Would she? Hell yes, her body responded in an instant to the suggestion.
“How would you go about it?”

“Ah! How would I?” “He paused to eat another mussel as she
watched him chew and his throat muscles undulate as he swallowed. “Administering
much-needed discipline can be so satisfying but for the first time between two
new lovers, it is important for it to be memorable. To imprint a memory that
will not fade. Unlike the redness of the buttocks that seldom lasts more than a
few hours.”

He was fucking good! No other way to describe it. He’d even
lowered his voice to a slow, sexy whisper.

“I think, out of all the many possibilities, it would be
best with you over my knee. I could sit on the end of the bed, or on a
chair—perhaps the latter—that way your head and shoulders will hang down,
making you even more vulnerable and helpless. On the other hand, across my lap
on the bed, I could be sure you’d feel my growing erection as the punishment
continues.

“I think,” he went on, “I will leave you clothed the first
time. Later I might make you strip for me, but this first occasion I think I
want the pleasure of raising your skirts over your head and revealing your
buttocks to my caress. And caress them I will. A sweet, untouched arse is a
beautiful sight. I will take your knickers down. All the way to your knees, to leave
you completely exposed and vulnerable and, you know what will happen next.” He
reached his fork and stabbed several pommes frites and ate them slowly. “Don’t
you?” he asked after he finished chewing.

Her nipples were hard and as for her cunt, well damn it was
shame she didn’t have a spare pair of knickers in her handbag. “You tease!”

“Of course.” He looked so smug she briefly considered
tipping wine down his shirt. “And you enjoyed it every minute of it.”

She’d be a fool and a liar to deny it. “Very much. I hope
the reality lives up to my expectations.”

“It will. I promise.” He topped up her wine glass. “How does
that sound for next time?”

Bloody fantastic but no point in sounding too utterly
desperate for it. “I think it sounds delightful, but where? I’d invite you to
my place but all I have is a little single room.” And what about when? She wouldn’t
say no to tonight. He had her primed after all.

“I will arrange that, Poppy. It will be something for both
of us to anticipate.”

“When?” All right, she was desperate. Her nipples were hard
and rubbing against her lacy bra.

He sighed. Not a good omen. “I had hoped to arrange this for
tonight or tomorrow evening but alas.” Alas what? Had he just intended to wind
her up and leave her hanging? “It will have to be Friday. I need to go out of
town for two nights. I am sorry. I had a call this morning. “

“So you’re going to leave me hanging for three days?” Might
as well go ahead and say it.

“Sadly yes, but I have something for you while I’m away.” He
handed her a box, wrapped in shiny black paper and topped with a silver bow. “Open
it when you get home. I don’t think the nice clientele in the shop need to see
what’s inside.”

“Okay. “ Good thing she carried a big handbag. “I look
forward to your return.”

He leaned across the table and whispered. “I look forward to
watching you squirm as you try, most ineffectively, to evade my chastisement.
You will feel every single well-aimed slap. I promise you.”

Poppy swallowed and downed most of her wine in an effort to
ease the dryness in her mouth. “I hope your return isn’t delayed.”

“So do I, Poppy, so do I.”

“And we still need to talk more.”

“We will, my dear, we will, but let us proceed slowly as we
explore each other’s needs and wants.”

“Perfect.” A pity the
pommes frites
had gone cold,
but really she didn’t need to eat them anyway.

* * * * *

She was almost back at the shop, when Didier accosted her. “You
had lunch with a man,” he said, making it sound as if the action was up there
with patricide or eating one’s young. “I asked you to have lunch with me.”

She might have been more patient if she’d wasn’t still
primed and aroused. “You did and I thanked you and told you I couldn’t do lunch
today.”

“You didn’t say you were lunching with another man.”

“Why should I have?”

“Why? We are lovers.”

She gasped, couldn’t help it. Talk about presuming, jumping
the gun, taking for granted. Darn it all, when they’d parted that evening, it
had been with a casual “see you” and he hadn’t even asked for her mobile number.
“No we’re not! We had a nice evening together, that’s all. Goodbye, Didier, I
need to get to work.” Since he didn’t budge, she walked to the side to pass him
and he grabbed her arm.

That self-defense course she’d taken twenty years ago in her
student days was still handy. She broke away and stepped back, ready to land
him one where it would hurt if he tried that again. “Don’t you dare touch me.”

“You were happy to have me touch you before.”

“Didier, we had a pleasant evening. I enjoyed myself, but we
made no promises.”

He drew himself up, eyebrows creased and face tinged pink.
Dear heaven what was she having to cope with, affronted male pride? Damn, he
did not own her. “You are a callous, cold woman! I thought we had a
connection.”

“‘Didier, this is ridiculous.” Quite the wrong thing to say,
or had she misspoken and told him he was ridiculous?

“Putain.” He turned and walked away, muttering.

One minute he was claiming they were lovers, the next
calling her a whore. Odd chap, to put it mildly. Not that she had time to worry
about him now. She ran the last few meters. Later, when she got home, she’d try
to sort things out in her mind. It she could be bothered. She hated they’d
parted on bad terms. On the other had he’d called her a whore! Not exactly the
action of a gentleman.

She smiled at that, she was sounding like her grandmother.

* * * * *

“Come on up tonight and have dinner,” Helen insisted when
Poppy finally returned her call. “You can meet the rest of the staff and
Adele’s a great cook.”

Sounded preferable to picking up a sandwich on the way home.

Helen’s directions were spot on, but nothing could have
prepared Poppy for
Les Santons
. All right, she’d already worked out that
Luc Prioux didn’t need to worry about money, but this was beyond her
imagination. The gates, standing open for her arrival, looked as if they’d been
nicked from Buckingham Place or perhaps Versailles. The paved drive curved
downhill, until it ended in a wide area beside a vast villa and several
outbuildings, including a block of four garages. Her old Mini looked a trifle
shabby beside the sleek Citroën but she didn’t waste time worrying about that
as she gaped at the immaculate gardens sloping down to a stone wall and the sea
far below.

Nice, hell, very nice. Maybe she’d get to stroll around the gardens
some time.

“Poppy!” Helen came out of a side door to greet her. “Glad
you got here, come on in.”

“You wanted to talk about furniture and so forth?”

“Luc told me to see to it but I thought you’d like to have
some say in it. Might as well get what you’d like.”

Made good sense. “There’s been a lot of work already.”

“You’ve been up there?”

“Yesterday. Stéphane drove me up. He wanted to look at the progress
I think. A lot’s been done already.”

“Stéphane?”

“The solicitor, I went in to sign my employment contract and
we went up afterward.” She hadn’t intended to cause shock, astonishment and a dropped
jaw but it appeared she had.

“We’re talking about the same person? Luc’s lawyer, Maître
Poulain?”

“Yes, that’s him.”

That earned her a strange look. Maybe letting his Christian
name slip had been mistake. Oh well, it was done now. “You know him too?” She
hoped not in the way she did. Oh dear, was that his modus operandi? Please no!

“I’ve been in his office a couple of times. And of course he
was involved back last spring, when…” She paused. “Oh hell, might as well tell
you. The previous cook we had was murdered. Horrible business and really sad,
and then we had a lot of back and forth with the police and Maître Poulain
earned his money… But you called him Stéphane?”

“Yes.” No point in denying it. “That’s between us.” That did
sound snippy but she was not elaborating. “About the furniture and so forth.
How do we do that?”

Helen took the hint not to press that line of questioning. “Come
on in. Would you like coffee or tea?”

They settled in a large airy office, presumably Helen’s, and
she handed Poppy a notepad. “Best make a list of what’s needed. We can order
online, go into Nice or even Marseille to look, if you want. “

“Is there a budget?” Best to know before she went wild with
enthusiasm.

Helen shook her head. “Anything within reason. Luc wants
this to work and part of that is getting you settled in. He doesn’t believe in
sparing expense where creature comforts are concerned.” Poppy only had to think
of the house she was sitting in to agree. “So what do you need?”

She’d been thinking this over on the drive up. “Right off,
not a lot. There’s a bed and mattress already. I’ll need pillows, bedclothes,
towels all that sort of thing and more storage. Include a table and chairs for
the kitchen and I’ll be set for a while. Most of all I need office furniture, a
computer, and good wifi connection. For the rest of it, I’d like to do it
slowly. Look in the
brocante
market on Mondays and local
vide-greniers
over the next few months. I’d rather pick up odds and ends I like as I see
them than buy a mass of new things in one go.”

“Makes sense. I might even join you. I love the market in
Nice and used to trawl garage sales and flea markets in the US. I’d love to see
the French version. We could do it together, if you like, Luc’s away for a
couple of days and I can get free or…”

Did she want that? Might not hurt to get on good terms with
a woman who called her employer by his Christian name. “Can’t be tomorrow, I
need to work.” And she was going to need to give notice. “I need to hire at
least a couple of workers to start clearing the fields.” This was becoming an
immense job. Had she bitten off more than she could chew?