Mystique (24 page)

"Yes, yes, I
am a coward!" she cried.

He didn't reply.
They stood facing each other like hostile opponents, their breathing harsh in
the stillness.

"Get
dressed. We have to fix dinner," Luc said with calm authority.

"I'm not
hungry."

"You're
eating for the baby," he reminded her. "And stop looking at me as
though you think I'm going to strike you."

"I don't
think that," Misty whispered, shivering. No, she knew he wouldn't ever hit
her, but his anger was almost as frightening as physical violence.

He regarded her
through narrowed eyes. "Damn it, do you think I'm going to attack you the
way your father did? Berate you? Unfairly accuse you? Cut you down with
words?" He inhaled a furious breath and exhaled it shakily. He studied
her for long minutes. "I freely admit I'm angry with you, but that does
not mean I don't understand how you feel. I don't agree with you, that's all.
And I intend to spend the next eight months or so proving that you can trust me
and yourself." His voice softened. "You
can
trust me, Mystique.
Do you hear me?"

"I think
they hear you on Long Island," she said dryly.

"As long as
you
hear me," he
replied with faint amusement. "Now, are you going to get dressed or shall
I do it for you?" His eyes went to her middle. "You
are
getting
bigger," he said with quiet satisfaction. "Are you well? There aren't
any complications, are there?"

"No
problems. I have to take vitamins and eat whole cereals." She shrugged.
"You know, the usual stuff for a pregnant woman."

Luc patted his
shirt pocket as though looking for something. "No, I don't know, but I'll
learn. Do you have paper and pencil? I want to get this down." He went to
her desk, found some paper, and began writing rapidly. "Didn't you get any
more details? Never mind, I'll call the doctor in the morning."

"Luc
..."
Misty reached into her closet for
a pair of velvet jeans in a soft rose color and a matching silk blouse.

"I made an
appointment with Dr. Mellon, the therapist I used to go to."

"When you
first began taking charge of your life. Now you want to see him, but you don't
trust your instincts."

"I do for
myself, Luc," she tried to explain, "but I can't take any chances
with our child. I just can't."

"Fine.
Neither can I. I'll go with you to see Dr. Mellon. I have a few latent
eccentricities he can begin to deal with. No, I am not laughing at you,"
he assured her. "I'm as serious as you are. I fully intend to be a very
good parent ... and a better husband." He held out his hand to her.
"If talking to a therapist will help me in any way, then I'll work with
him." Luc dropped his hand when she made no move to take it.

"I believe
you, Luc," she said.

He let out a deep
breath. "Well, that's a start." She pulled on soft rose-colored ankle
boots, then straightened. "You look very beautiful in that color," he
said. "Renoir would have loved to paint you. Your hair is red-gold. Your
eyes are far more luminous than your emerald ring." He gave her a half
smile. "I think I should be your PR man as well as your husband."

"Yes,"
Misty agreed softly, grateful that his anger had faded. She wanted back the
teasing, loving Luc who was hers alone.

He reached out to
pull her toward him. "I tossed a coin to see who'll make the salad. You
lost." Together they headed downstairs.

"Was it a
two-headed coin?"

"Why, wife,
how you talk!" he drawled, running the flat of his hand down over her
backside. "Ummm, you do have everything in the proper place, don't
you?"

Misty laughed,
leaning against him and daring to hope that, just maybe, they would find a
solution to her problem, that just maybe Luc was right and she wouldn't have to
give up her baby. She erased her thoughts of the pain and concentrated on the
man walking down the staircase beside her, their bodies bumping gently at every
step.

In the kitchen
Luc rinsed the fish in cold water, soaked it in fresh lemon juice, and let it
drain. Misty paused in tearing fresh spinach leaves for a salad and watched
him, delighted by his off-key whistling.

"Stop
goofing off," he chided her with a
grin,
wiping his hands on a towel he had thrown over one shoulder. "I'm doing
all the work."

"Poor
baby," Misty cooed.

He breathed in
sharply. "When you pout like that, my blood pressure goes up thirty
points. Love, your face is getting red. How far does your blush go?"
Chuckling, he reached for the belt at her waist and brought her close, her
hands still full of spinach leaves. "All the way down there," he
whispered, lifting the neck of her silk blouse so that he could look down.

"You should
be arrested," Misty declared, laughing. "You're a devil."

"Uh-uh, just
a husband."

"Do you
think all husbands are so interested in their wives?"

"They would
be if they were married to you. But no one except me is ever going to have that
privilege. You're mine for the next ninety years. After that you're on your
own." Luc kissed her open mouth.

"By the same
token, you're mine for the next ninety years."

"By George,
I think she's got it. Now finish that salad. I have to make a few phone
calls." He kissed her temple and left the room.

"Bossy."
Misty sighed, feeling free from worry for the first time all day. "Don't
get too comfortable," she muttered to herself. But her admonition didn't
dispel the happiness that filled her. She was here with Luc. They were
together!

"Daydreaming?"
Luc asked from the doorway. She looked up to see him lounging against the
frame.

"Never."
Forcing herself not to smile, she pretended to glare at him.

"Looked like
it to me." He ambled over toward her and leaned down to kiss her.
"I'll put the coffee on."

"You usually
do that after we've eaten."

"Tonight we
might be having guests before we're finished."

"Oh? You
didn't mention that anyone would be stopping by." Misty popped a spinach
leaf into her mouth.

"That was
before I informed my mother that she's to have another grandchild in
September." Luc licked the corner of her mouth. "Piece of spinach
there," he explained.

"Ah, Luc, do
you think you should—"

"Yes, I do
think I should inform the family. In fact, I'm thinking of putting an
announcement in
The New York Times."

"Luc!"
Misty laughed as he left her to check the saffron rice and the sole, which was
turning golden brown under the broiler.

They took their
food into the dining room and sat at right angles to each other. Misty tasted
the fish. "Ummm, good." She smacked her lips. "I've been so
hungry, lately."

Luc grinned at
her. "Expectant mamas have big appetites, but I intend to see that you go
on a very special diet. You and our child will have the best health care."

Misty stared in
awe at the gleam of determination in his eyes. "Dr. Wagner didn't say I
needed a special diet," she began, falling silent as Luc glowered at her.

"What does
she know?"

"She's the
doctor," Misty pointed out softly.

"I'll talk
to her in the morning."

Misty argued with
him, but nothing she said shook him from his stand. They were still discussing
the subject as they cleared the table and did the dishes. As they finished, the
doorbell rang.

"That must
be my mother and father," Luc said, smiling.

Misty turned to
him in astonishment. "You let them drive all the way in here from Long Island tonight?" she accused.

He shrugged.
"I only said they were going to be grandparents. I didn't tell them to
come."

"But you
didn't dissuade them either." Misty gave an irritated shake of her head,
but he just grinned, unrepentant, and followed her to the door.

"Darling!"
Althea Harrison burst into the foyer. "A baby! It's so exciting." She
hugged Misty and then her son.

"Congratulations,
my dear," Luc's father said more quietly but no less happily, if the
light in his eyes was any indication.

Althea sailed
into the living room, the others following in her wake. "I called
everyone, and, of course, they're all delighted. Alice insists that we make a
formal announcement at a special little party."

"There's no
need," Luc said, his laughing glance going to Misty, who was staring in
amazement in response to Althea's suggestion.

"But we must
do something," Luc's mother wailed.

"We could
put it in the morning's listings on the stock exchange. They go
worldwide," James Harrison suggested.

"Could we do
that?" His wife's eyes glittered.

"No, of
course not. Dad's teasing you." Luc laughed at his mother's crestfallen
expression.

"Well, I'll
think of something," she declared.

"No
doubt," her husband murmured, winking at Misty.

"Now, dear,
tell me how you're feeling. Who's your doctor? Will you go to a hospital or
have the baby at home? Are you going to continue to work?"

The last question
brought Luc's head up. He stared at his wife, waiting for her answer.

"I think
I'll work for a little while longer," she said hesitantly.

"All right,
darling," he agreed, "but I reserve the right to take you off the job
if I think you're getting too tired."

"Luc, I'll
be fine." She smiled at him, feeling even more relaxed in response to his
concern. She turned to her in laws. "You will stay the night, won't you?
It would worry me to have you travel back to the Island so late at night."

Althea glanced at
her husband, who nodded, "Of course, we will, dear. It's so kind of you to
offer."

"That will
be great, Dad," Luc interjected. "You can come to the office
tomorrow. You said you wanted to take a look at the Gennser plan."

"Good
idea." James grinned at Misty.

Althea rolled her
eyes. "I should have known he would insist on going to that foolish
bank."

"I could go
to that foolish bank every day if I wanted to, my dear. Have you forgotten that
there are branches all over New York State, including several near us?"

"Yes, but
it's always been the main branch that drew you. 'That's where all the action
is,' you used to say."

"Ummm. Did I
say that?" he mused, grinning.

Misty was
delighted to watch Luc's parents interact.

When his mother
described Luc as a boy, she had to laugh. "My dear, he was the original
enfant terrible.
He took a frog to
dancing class, and seven mothers called me to complain. Oh yes, you laugh now,
but you'll have to be on your guard with your own child. Those same awful genes
may be passed on," she pronounced in mock funereal tones.

For Misty, Althea's
teasing revived very serious fears. What if she
did
pass on bad genes
to her child? She caught Luc watching her and gave him a shaky smile.

He relaxed
visibly. "I like to see you smile."

James Harrison
set his brandy glass down on an inlaid rosewood table next to his chair. His
shrewd gaze remained on Luc for long moments before going to Misty.

Luc grinned at
his father. "She's beautiful, isn't she?"

"Yes,"
James Harrison agreed, nodding solemnly.

"Stop it,
both of you," Althea said tartly. "You're making Mystique
blush."

Luc rose from his
seat and pulled Misty to her feet, wrapping an arm around her. He sank back
into his wide chair and pulled her onto his lap. "Is my darling
blushing?" he asked softly.