To My Senses The Nicci Beauvoir Series Book 1 (41 page)

“
Yes, I expect you to
believe that! God, you’re impossible! You are the most difficult
woman I have ever known. I will never know why I fell in love with
you.”

“
There you are!” a familiar
voice intruded behind us.

I wheeled around to see
Michael. I tried to think of something to say, but my mind went
blank.

“
I don’t believe we’ve
met.” Michael walked up to David and extended his hand. “I’m Dr.
Michael Fagles. Nicci’s fiancé.”

I watched anxiously as the
two men shook hands.

“
David Alexander. I’m so
glad to meet you.” David eyed Michael up and down. “I’ve been very
curious about the man who won Nicci’s heart. Although I must admit,
I always thought she would marry someone more like an artist than a
doctor.”

Michael cocked one eyebrow
at David. “Really, and what do you do, Mr. Alexander?”

David grinned. “I’m an
artist.”

“
I see.” Michael’s eyes
were all over David. “Have I ever seen your work
before?”

David nodded to the house and raised his
eyebrows playfully.

“
You did—” Michael stopped
himself. “I mean, you’re the one who painted the portrait of Nicci
in the bathtub?” I could see Michael was starting to get the
idea.

David gave me a knowing
smile. “Yes. That’s one of my favorites.”

I glared at him.

“
Then you did the portrait
over the fireplace? The present for Nicci’s father?” Michael turned
to me, scowling.

David inquisitively tilted
his head to the side.

“
The going away picture you
did,” I clarified.

David’s face lit up with
recognition. “Yes, Nicci was quite an inspirational
model.”

Michael stood with his lips
pursed together, looking like he was constipated again. He moved
over to me and extended his arm. “It was nice meeting you, Mr.
Alexander. Come, Nicci, we have to return to the party. Our guests
are asking for you.”

Giving David one last
scowl, I took Michael’s arm.

“
Nicci?” David called.
“Congratulations on your engagement.”

“
What was that about?”
Michael hissed, right before we went inside to join the
party.

“
Nothing,” I said, ignoring
his enraged countenance.

He squeezed my arm, hurting
me. “I do not want you seeing that man again.”

I wrenched my hand free of
his grip. “Michael, don’t tell me what to do.” I went inside the
patio doors alone.

The moment I arrived in the
living room, Uncle Lance, Val, and my father were waiting for me.
They were each grinning from ear to ear.

I looked sternly from one
conspirator to another. “I will not even begin to comment on what
the three of you have done. Michael won’t be speaking to me for
days and his family—God knows what they think.”

“
Who cares!” Val
cackled.

“
Why don’t you break up
with the silly little bastard?” Uncle Lance suggested.

“
We all felt you needed a
swift kick in the pants,” Val commented. “We just decided it was
time we stepped in and helped fate out a bit.”

“
It’s not that easy to
forget about what David did to me.”

Uncle Lance stepped
forward. “Give the man a chance, sweetheart. Don’t let him get away
again.”

My father was standing
behind Val and my uncle with his arms folded across his
chest.

“
You don’t have anything to
add?” I asked him.

“
You know how I feel. I
don’t think I could have put it any better than your uncle, or
Val.”

A tap on my shoulder made
me spin around to find Michael, still looking constipated. I was
not sure how much of our conversation he had heard.

“
I need to speak with you,
alone.”

My father, Uncle Lance, and
Val went off snickering. Michael waited until they were out the
way, and then he dragged me up the stairs to the left of the living
room. He pulled me into one of the bedrooms and slammed the door
closed. I plopped down on the king-sized bed and made myself
comfortable. I figured this was going to be a long and tedious
argument.

Michael started pacing in
front of me. He never once glanced at me, as he walked back and
forth on the beige-colored carpet. It was some time before he
eventually spoke.

“
Nicci,” he began, still
pacing. “I know that this painting stuff took place before we met,
and I realize now that this man was someone you once cared for.
But…you could have told me, Nicci. You should have told me about
everything!”

When he finally faced me, I could see the
hurt in his blue eyes.

“
There was nothing to
tell,” I calmly assured him. “David left and I met you. What I did
with him should have nothing to do with us.”

“
Nothing to do with us?
Jesus, Nicci, your naked ass is downstairs for the whole town to
see. How do you think that makes me feel? Having everyone see my
fiancée…my future wife, naked!” He sat down on the bed next to me.
“Christ, my mother is going to need months of therapy to get over
the shock. She kept telling me she thought you were such a nice
girl. What do I tell her?”

I remembered how she had
reacted when she saw the nude. I tried to hide my smirk from
Michael.

I put my hand on his
shoulder, “I’m sorry, but I never thought the painting would come
back to haunt me. I should have been more responsible, but so what?
Who cares what everyone thinks? Some men might enjoy having their
wife ogled over.”

He stumbled away from the
bed, glaring back at me. “I can’t believe this. You’re going to be
the respectable wife of a prominent psychiatrist. You can’t go
around being displayed naked in public.”

I shook my head, dismayed
by his reaction. “Why is what everyone thinks so important to you?
If you had enough confidence, you could tell the world to go to
hell. Then you would be successful on your terms, not
theirs.”

He mouth fell open. “What a
childish notion. The real world is made up of people, Nicci. To
survive in it you have to know how to play their games. You have to
play on their terms to win.”

“
Does all this make you
happy, Michael?” I stood from the bed, waving my hands about the
room. “I mean, all the games and trying to impress your friend and
clients. Doesn’t all the pressure of trying to please everyone else
get to you?”

“
What, are you analyzing me
now, Nicci?”

“
Life is only a series of
trophies for you, isn’t it? For you it’s all about the best car,
the biggest house, the classiest friends, and the socially
prominent wife. You’ve been so busy grabbing for trophies, I don’t
even think you ever stopped to consider if you were
happy.”

He snickered at me. “You’re
not serious!”

I patted my hand on his
jacket lapel. “Michael, I haven’t been honest with you. Hell, I
haven’t been honest with myself. But you need to know
something.”

Michael’s eyes were two,
wide blue marbles. Then, I saw his anger take hold.

“
Tell me he doesn’t
matter!” he snarled, shoving me back on the bed. “Tell me you don’t
love him.” Without waiting for a response, his lips crashed into
mine.

I grabbed his hair and
pulled him off me. “Stop it.”

“
Make me believe you’re
mine,” he begged, trying to kiss me again.

I avoided his lips, not
wanting to taste their coolness on me again. I pushed him aside and
got up from the bed.

“
We are guests in my aunt’s
house. I will not make out in her bedroom like some teenager. You
are confusing anger with passion.” I studied his infuriated
features and felt as if I were suddenly seeing a whole new side of
him. “You’ll never be a passionate man, Michael, just an angry
one.” I went to the door. “I’m going home.”

He got up from the bed and
straightened out his jacket. “I’m sorry. I’ll take you home.” He
reached for the door in front of me.

“
No.” I stepped away from
him. “My father can take me home. Go take care of your mother.
We’ll talk tomorrow.” I walked out of the bedroom and headed to the
stairs.

I had just made it into the
living room, when I spotted Uncle Ned and Aunt Hattie standing with
Colleen around the portrait.

“
Hello,
Colleen.”

Colleen turned and briefly
eyed my gown. “Boy, you got some guts to pose for this thing, or
was it done from a photograph?” She pointed to the
picture.

Uncle Ned nodded to the
painting. “Very talented artist.”

Aunt Hattie was winging her
hands and pouting. “Oh my dear, what did Michael say? Was he
terribly upset?”

I smirked. “He’ll get over
it.”

Colleen started waving
someone down from across the room. A tall, handsome man stepped to
her side and handed her a drink.

“
Nic, you remember Parker
Roy.” Colleen was beaming as she took the glass from Parker’s
hand.

“
I ah, love your picture,”
Parker said, blushing.

Parker was a slim fellow
with sandy brown hair and blue eyes. His dark tailored suit
contrasted loudly against Colleen’s pink and purple satin dress.
They were gazing into each other’s eyes and smiling contagiously.
He was the man Colleen never thought she would be good enough to
interest at the Myra Chopin’s tea party so long ago.

“
Parker is my date,”
Colleen explained.

“
What about
Eddie?”

She shrugged, making her
dress dip suggestively about her cleavage. “He’s in Italy. I can’t
be expected to attend all of the best parties alone.”

I left Colleen and Parker,
but couldn’t help noticing that Hattie had kept
uncharacteristically tight-lipped during the entire conversation. I
doubted she approved, but Parker was from another wealthy,
well-established New Orleans family. So she might not balk at the
relationship too badly.

I made my way back into the
den to search for my father and my uncle. I was more than ready to
go home. I wanted to get away from the people and the noise. It had
been some time since I’d had a quiet night at home.

I found Uncle Lance against
the bar, deep in conversation with a pretty, well-built
blonde.

“
Hi.” I forced myself
between him and his friend. “Where’s Dad?”

“
He left,” he casually
disclosed.

“
How are we supposed to get
home?”

“
Well, the fair…Linda, is
it?” He motioned to the blonde. “She is giving me a ride. Your
father thought the moron was going to bring you home. Why? Break up
already?”

“
No. Michael has to take
his parents home and I really…never mind.” I kissed his cheek.
“Have fun,” I whispered in his ear.

I stepped outside and took
a seat at one of the black wrought-iron tables scattered about the
patio. There was no one around, and I reveled in the solitude.
Through the glass patio doors, I unexpectedly spotted Michael
escorting his mother and father to the front door. I was about to
jump up and ask for a ride home, but I stopped myself.

“
I’d rather take a cab,” I
mumbled.

“
Talking to yourself is a
sure sign of insanity. You should see a shrink.” David came
alongside me and took a seat in the chair next to mine.

“
Why are you still
here?”

“
Never left. I was hoping
to continue our conversation.” He reclined in his chair and scanned
the twinkling night sky.

“
We have nothing to
discuss.”

“
This seems to be a pattern
with us.” He gestured to the empty tables and dimming candlelight,
then veered his eyes back to me. His gaze slowly glided down my
figure. “You look beautiful in that dress. I remember the last time
I saw you in it. We danced the night away.”

I could feel the rage
inside of me losing ground. “Not the whole night. We spent some of
it at your cottage, painting. Are you still painting?”

“
Only pictures of
you.”

“
Nudes?”

He leered at me. “I need
the original model for that. To make sure I get the details
right.”

I shifted nervously in my
chair. “Maybe you should find something else to paint.”

“
Everything else bores me.
I tried, when I was first in New York, to paint other things.
Buildings, landscapes, a few trees, but nothing ever looked quite
like you on the canvas. Painting you was my therapy.” He raised his
eyebrows. “No pun intended. It helped me work out all the things I
wanted to tell you.”

A twinge of curiosity
nibbled at my anger. “What things did you want to tell
me?”

He tilted closer to me. “I
love you and nothing will ever change that. You could marry another
man, but I will still love you.”

I retreated from his
advance. “It’s not that easy, David. The night of the wedding, when
I heard you talking to Sammy, you changed me. I don’t know if I can
ever trust you again. That Nicci is dead.”