Kristi Gold - Hotel Marchand 04 (8 page)

She closed her eyes and absorbed the surroundings, the sultry sound of the sax, which didn’t drown out Pete’s voice when he said, “I’ll never forget what you said to me that first night we met. You were hell on wheels.”

Renee raised her eyes to his. “I was rather brazen, wasn’t I?”

“You were beautiful.” He tightened his hold on her. “When I saw you coming toward me, I expected you to walk right past me. Then you stopped and propositioned me.”

She leaned back and scowled. “It was a
business
proposition.”

“True, but I knew right then you were special. That you had a sharp mind to go along with that angel face and great body. You also had guts.”

If he only knew how twisted her nerves had been during their first introduction, he probably would have sent her on her way. He also hadn’t known how captivated she had been by him. She still was. “I was determined to convince you to direct the movie.”

“You were amazing. By the time you took a breath, I didn’t know what hit me.”

She could relate because she’d felt the same about him. “But you made me work for the deal. At first I thought you weren’t going to agree to it.”

“Honestly, I knew I wanted to do the film the minute you told me about it. I just liked watching you in action.”

She smiled. “I knew exactly what you were doing. It was all part of your game plan.”

“Oh, yeah? I remember you playing right along with it.”

“This is true.”

The conversation suspended as they continued to dance in place while other couples passed by. Renee couldn’t remember a time when she’d felt so content, so happy to be with someone, despite the danger in that.

When the band took a break, they returned to the table and reminisced about the times they’d spent together, the pitfalls of the business, the direction Pete’s replacement had taken the movie. Pete wasn’t critical, but Renee sensed he would have done things differently. With every passing moment, every snippet of easy conversation, it was as if the years had dissolved. And when they again returned to the dance floor, they held each other closer, his hands roving down her back, hers tightening around his neck.

Renee rested her cheek against his chest for a time until he lifted her chin with gentle fingertips. “I want to kiss you so damn bad right now, it’s driving me crazy.”

As much as Renee wanted that, too, she’d never been one to engage in public displays of affection. “Not here.”

“Then let’s go to your place.”

How easy it would be to tell him yes. But reason led her to say, “We can’t do that.”

He stopped and framed her face in his hands. “Tell me you don’t want to be with me again. That you don’t want me to touch you.”

She stared at him through the haze her mind had become, and when she didn’t respond, he said, “That’s what I thought. You want it as badly as I do.”

Yes she did, but at what cost? “We have to pick up Adam soon,” she said, even though she’d lost all track of time.

Pete glanced at the clock hanging over the bar and uttered a curse. “It’s eleven forty-five.”

Renee looked to her right at the glass door and saw the limousine parked at the curb. “Luc’s here,” she said, her voice laced with disappointment. Even Cinderella had been granted midnight.

When Pete continued to look at her, a host of questions—along with undeniable heat—in his eyes, Renee tried to pull away, but he wouldn’t let her. “We have to go now,” she said with little conviction.

“I know. I have a responsibility to my nephew. But God help me, I want to be with you tonight. All night.”

“We don’t have a choice, Pete. Even if we did, I’m not sure I’m ready to take that step.”

“I know.” He let out a long sigh of resignation and stepped back, leaving Renee feeling strangely bereft.

After Pete paid the bill, they left the club, keeping a wide berth between them. Luc opened the limo’s door and offered a quick greeting before they slid inside and took opposing seats.

The door closed, the lights dimmed, Pete pressed the button to raise the partition once more, and the curtain came down on any control when he muttered, “I can’t fight this anymore.”

He was out of his seat and at her side before Renee could object. Without formality, he tugged her into his arms. Without the least bit of hesitation, he pressed his lips against hers.

The soft insistence of his mouth, the gentle glide of his tongue incited more memories, more heat, and had her surrendering to the power he continued to have over her. She felt light-headed, almost dizzy. She wanted to be strong but instead she was weak. Weak with wanting him, wanting more.

When he pulled back, a strange, needy sound drifted from Renee’s mouth, prompting Pete to kiss her again, his hands drifting up her sides, coming perilously close to her breast. Even if she gave it her best effort, Renee doubted she could stop him.

“How much time before we’re there?” he whispered, his warm breath playing over her ear.

Surely he wasn’t suggesting… “Ten minutes, tops.”

“Damn. That’s not even enough time for foreplay.” He toyed with her hem, which had crept up above her knees. “Or maybe it is enough time.”

She was so on edge, if he dared to touch her, two minutes would be more accurate. “Luc would know what we’d been up to the minute we got out. Worse, my mother would know, too.”

He inched his palm a little higher. “You could fake it.”

She laid her hand on his to stop his upward progress, proud that she still had that much presence of mind. “What would be the point in that? If you have to fake it, you might as well not bother.”

His laugh sounded almost pained. “That’s not what I meant. You’ve been around enough actors to know how to put on a good show.”

After she removed his hand, she inched over to provide some much-needed space. “Nothing’s going to happen between us, Pete.”

“Is that in reference to right now, or never?”

Heaven help her, if she told him never, she’d be lying. Honestly, she ached for him. Ached for one more time, one more night. One more memory. “Why don’t we just see what happens?”

He tipped his head against the seat and let out a long draft of air. “Okay. We’ll see what happens.” He sounded as if he knew exactly what would happen.

“We’re here,” Luc announced, disturbing the momentary silence.

When Pete didn’t bother to move, she shifted toward him and frowned. “Are you coming?”

His smile was wry, and incredibly sexy. “Bad choice of words, Renee.”

She felt her face fire up like a backyard grill. “I meant are you ready to go get your nephew.”

He drew both hands down his face. “I need a few minutes. Otherwise, I might make a lasting impression on your family, and not a good one.”

Renee leaned out the car to find Luc standing by the hood, staring at the night sky. “We’ll be out in a bit,” she said, then pulled the door partially closed.

Renee couldn’t imagine what Luc was thinking. She really didn’t want to know what he was thinking. On the other hand, she could barely think at all.

She took the seat across from Pete, who seemed determined not to look at her. “Do you want me to go get him?”

He leaned forward, lowered his head and forked both hands through his hair. “No. I’m okay. Let’s go.”

“Just one thing you need to be aware of. Or maybe I should say
someone
you need to be aware of.”

He lifted his gaze to her. “Let me guess. Your grandmother owns a pit bull.”

“My grandmother
is
a pit bull. We refer to her as ‘The Queen,’ behind her back, of course. She’s in her eighties, and she’s rather blunt.” That was an understatement of the first order.

Pete didn’t look at all concerned. “I can handle blunt. Besides, how bad could she be?”

I
F LOOKS COULD KILL
, Pete would be taking one right between the eyes. The frail-framed elderly woman delivering the near-fatal visual shot looked as if she could hold her own in any given situation, in spite of her age. Maybe even wrestle a few Louisiana alligators. Or men she saw as a threat to her granddaughters, and he figured he fell into that category.

“It’s about time you returned,” she said as they moved into the foyer. “You’re five minutes late.”

Looking uncomfortable, Renee said, “Your watch is fast as always,
Grand-mére
. And I’m surprised you’re still up at this time of the night.”

“When I’m not able to remain awake to see that my grandchildren are safe, then I will be ready to be put out to pasture.”

“And I’m sure that won’t be happening anytime soon.” Renee’s smile looked stiff. “Pete, this is my grandmother, Celeste Robichaux.
Grand-mére
, Pete Traynor.”

“I’m pleased to meet you, Mrs. Robichaux.” Pete held out his hand to her and for a moment thought she might actually ignore the gesture. Hell, he thought she might even toss him out on his ass. He honestly believed she could do it, too.

After a brief handshake, she said, “I assume you’re the boy’s uncle.”

Considering her less than friendly tone, Pete questioned what he was in for after he confirmed that fact. It didn’t matter. He had no intention of denying his nephew. “That’s right. Hope he wasn’t too much trouble.”

Her expression softened somewhat. “He has a definite
joie de vivre,
and for the most part, he’s well-mannered. I admire that in a child.”

As close to a compliment as she got, Pete guessed. “Where is he now?”

“In the den, asleep in front of the television,” Celeste said. “They both tired out not long after dinner.”

“And where’s Mother?” Renee asked.

Celeste rolled her eyes. “She disappeared some time ago. Most likely she’s packing her things in preparation to desert me.”

“Mother’s moving back to her quarters at the hotel,” Renee explained. “She’s more than ready to be on her own again.”

Obviously intent on ignoring her granddaughter’s comment, Celeste waved a thin, careworn hand at Pete. “Come sit with me, Mr. Traynor, while Renee retrieves your nephew.”

Renee sent him an apologetic look. “I won’t be long.”

Pete hoped not, because when he followed Celeste into the nearby parlor, he felt as if he’d entered the queen’s court, with the queen serving as judge and jury, and he was about to be sentenced to the gallows.

He grabbed the first chair available, a stiff, wing-backed thing that wasn’t the least bit comfortable, which was fine with him. He didn’t plan on staying any longer than necessary. Celeste seated herself on a settee across from him and folded her hands in her lap. He found it kind of strange she was still dressed in a pantsuit instead of a robe, although he shouldn’t be all that surprised. She was the kind of woman who probably stood firm on decorum, and dared anyone to challenge her on that. Pete wouldn’t make the mistake of crossing that line.

He surveyed the room, trying to appear casual when he’d really prefer to get the hell out of Dodge. “Nice place. How long have you been here?”

“Many years.”

Short and sweet, but that was okay. He wasn’t necessarily in the mood for deep conversation. And she’d probably coldcock him if she knew what he was in the mood for—spending the night with her granddaughter. “I haven’t had time to explore the Garden District, but I plan to do that before I leave.”

“When exactly are you leaving?” she asked.

Now wouldn’t be soon enough, at least when it came to sitting in this room with a woman who apparently held him in gutter-level esteem. “End of the week. I’m here scouting locations for a movie.”

She didn’t look at all impressed. “Then you’re from Hollywood?”

“Yeah. That’s where I met Renee a few years back.”

She stiffened even more. “I see.”

He had a sneaking suspicion she did see—right through him. “We’re friends.”

“Of course you are,” she said, not bothering to hide the sarcasm. She leaned forward and nailed him with her sharp gaze. “Mr. Traynor, what are your intentions in regard to my granddaughter?”

Man, he hadn’t had this kind of interrogation since he was sixteen and he’d tried to date the preacher’s daughter. “I want to spend some time with her before I go back to California. Maybe have a couple of dinners. Have her show us a few more sites.”

“You and your nephew?”

“Yeah.”

“As a friend?”

Time to lie. “Yes.”

Seemingly relaxed, she sat back on the sofa. “All right then. I only have one more question.”

What the hell. “Fire away.”

“Do you always wear lipstick?”

A
FTER SEARCHING FOR HER MOTHER
and oddly not finding her anywhere, Renee made her way to the den. She leaned against the doorframe and surveyed the scene—one dark-haired little boy, stretched out on his belly on a blanket, a hand curled beside his face on the miniature pillow. And next to him, a redheaded little girl sprawled out on her back, her limbs askew and her eyes closed against the light. A cartoon played on the television, the volume entirely too loud, yet obviously not loud enough to disturb them.

Renee hated to wake Adam since he looked so peaceful, but she owed it to Pete before he suffered much more of the queen’s wrath.

A touch on her shoulder startled her so badly she spun around, only to find her mother, not Pete, standing behind her. Renee gathered enough composure to signal her into the hall. “You nearly scared me to death.”

“I’m sorry,
bébé
. I was trying to be quiet so I wouldn’t wake the children.”

“Where have you been? I looked everywhere but I couldn’t find you.”

“I was helping a neighbor find his dog.”

Renee suspected she knew the identity of said neighbor, but she had to ask anyway. “Would the dog’s owner happen to be the dashing William Armstrong?”

“As a matter of fact, yes. And I prefer you not mention that to your
grand-mére
.”

“Why not? I thought she liked William.”

“She does, but she doesn’t need to know what I’m doing every moment of the day. Her overprotective behavior is driving me insane. And she might make more out of my relationship with William than it is. We’re only friends.”

“Are you sure about that, Mother?”

Anne looked incensed over the conjecture. “Don’t you start, too.”

Renee eyed her mother, searching for any signs that she’d been engaged in questionable activities with her neighbor, and found none. No smeared lipstick, no glassy love-struck look in her eyes. “Did you find the dog?”

Anne frowned. “Excuse me?”

“You said the dog was lost.”

“I meant we went to walk the dog.”

“At midnight?”

“Give it a rest, Renee.”

Renee couldn’t suppress her smile. “I’m sorry. It’s just so unlike you to do that sort of thing.” Very unlike her mother to keep company with a man since her beloved husband’s death. But she deserved some happiness, and companionship.

“Again, William’s only a friend,” Anne said with a good measure of defensiveness. “A very good friend. And a good listener. He’s been very helpful when I’ve told him about my concerns with the hotel.”

Renee patted her mother’s cheek. “You shouldn’t worry about that. Things are picking up. We’re going to be fine.”

“But I do worry, especially after everything that happened last weekend with that horrible blackout. I’m afraid we might not recover if people don’t believe the hotel is prepared for emergencies. Or if they think it’s not safe to stay there.”

“Just let me handle it. That’s my job. But right now I need to get Adam back to the hotel. And rescue Pete from the queen’s clutches.”

Her hazel eyes went wide. “He’s with her now?”

“Yes. Didn’t you see them when you came in the front door?”

Anne didn’t bother to hide her chagrin. “Actually, I came in the back door.”

Renee pointed at her. “Aha! You’re afraid of
Grand-mére
.”

“I told you, I’m tired of her watching over me like a warden.”

Nothing Renee hadn’t experienced herself. “
Grand-mére
is so overbearing. And she’s always been too stubborn.”

Anne pushed Renee’s hair away from her shoulder. “I hope that one day you and your grandmother will finally get past your rift. It’s been almost twenty years,
chère.
It’s time.”

Renee wasn’t certain she could ever forget how her grandmother had insisted she wouldn’t make it in California when she’d decided to attend college there, and eventually remain after obtaining her marketing degree. Celeste had belittled her for even trying. “Maybe someday, Mother.” A prospect Renee didn’t embrace just yet.

In order to avoid any more talk of the past, she strode back into the room and knelt at Adam’s side. When she lifted him into her arms and stood, his eyes drifted open and he yawned. “Where’s Uncle Pete, Renee?”

“Just down the hall, sweetie. Let’s go find him.”

Once in the hall, she found her mother still hanging around. “You look so natural, holding that little one, Renee.”

Which interpreted meant, “You should have a baby,
chère
.” At one time Renee had wanted that, but several years ago, she’d begun to believe being a mother wasn’t in the cards. Yet spending time with Daisy Rose had resurrected a deep-seated longing, one she’d tried desperately to ignore. But with Adam in her arms, his cheek resting on her shoulder, his tiny arms circled around her neck, that yearning tried to make itself known again.

She reminded herself a baby wasn’t in her future. Neither was a life partner. Not unless someone came along who could treat her as an equal, respected her for who she was. Loved her with everything in him.

“Should we go see about your young man now?” Anne whispered.

“He’s not my ‘young man’,” Renee said a little louder than she’d intended, causing Adam to stir.

“Whatever you say,
bébé
. Whatever you say.”

P
ETE COULDN’T HAVE
been happier to be back in the limo than if he’d just been liberated from a POW camp. Run by a hundred hulking guards. With beefy arms, big guns and bloodlust. They’d be nothing compared with Renee’s menacing granny.

Adam was stretched out on the seat, his head on Renee’s lap, his legs draped over Pete’s thighs. “He must’ve played hard today,” Pete said as he watched Renee stroke his nephew’s hair, thinking he’d enjoy a little bit of that himself.

“I’m sure he did,” she said. “Daisy Rose can be a handful, but somehow my mother manages her fine, although I do worry about her taking care of a three-year-old in light of her health.”

“I don’t think you should underestimate your mother’s strength.” A strength that Renee obviously inherited.

She sighed. “You’re right. She’s one of the strongest women I know. And she has raised four children. I guess that’s something you never forget how to do.”

“No, you never forget.” Pete never would.

Adam lifted his head and looked around, his eyes still heavy with sleep. “Where are we?”

“Almost at the hotel, sweetie.”

Adam worked his way up into a sitting position between them. “Are you sleeping over at the hotel, Renee?”

Pete stifled a laugh when Renee sent him a helpless look. “It’s that ‘from the mouths of babes’ thing,” he said.

“No, Adam,” she said. “I have to go to my apartment. But I’ll probably see you tomorrow at the hotel since I have some work to do.”

The woman was more fanatical than he’d realized. “You’re not even going to take Sunday off?”

“I’m already behind.”

“I want you to show me the cruise ships,” Adam said.

“We’ll see.”

That wasn’t exactly a refusal, and that pleased Pete. Having her “sleep over” would please him even more. Ain’t gonna happen, he decided, for several reasons, including the one sitting between them.

When the limo stopped in front of the hotel, Pete acknowledged he would have to let Renee go without even a good-night kiss. Probably just as well. Otherwise, he’d have one helluva time going to sleep tonight.

But right when Luc opened the door, Adam climbed into Renee’s lap. “Will you come tuck me in like Uncle Pete does, Renee?”

She shot another forlorn look at Pete. “I wouldn’t want to take away your uncle’s job, honey.”

“Uncle Pete tucks me in all the time,” he said. “I want you to do it tonight.”

Pete could see a war waging in her expression, and right when he was about to step in and run interference for Renee, she said, “I guess I could do that.”

Adam kissed her cheek. “Will you carry me like you did at the house?”

Score another heart won by Renee Marchand. “She doesn’t need to do that, kiddo. If you can’t walk, then I’ll carry you.”

Adam scooted off her lap. “I can walk. I’m a big boy.”

He sounded so adultlike, Pete almost laughed again. “Good. Let Renee go first, then you and I can get out.”

Once they climbed from the limo, Adam took his place between Pete and Renee, holding both their hands as they headed toward the entry. Several people still walked the streets and Pete was only mildly aware of the group of men hovering at the front door. Then one of them yelled, “Hey, man, it’s Pete Traynor,” before countless cameras began to flash, sending Pete into action.

He scooped Adam into his arms and took Renee’s hand, practically hauling her into the hotel. Fortunately, one of New Orleans’ finest and a few security guards stopped the small throng of paparazzi before they moved in behind them.

“This way,” Renee said, guiding them up the wide staircase centered in the lobby. By the time they reached the appropriate floor, they were both winded.

Pete set Adam on his feet, retrieved the card key from his wallet and muttered, “Damn them.”

Adam looked up at him, his expression as stern as a headmaster’s. “You’re not supposed to say damn, Uncle Pete.”