Wronged (The Cuvier Widows Book 1) (19 page)

Her eyes lingered on his lips, remembering
the feel of them against her own, wanting to taste them once more.
She glanced away, trying to clear her head of her exciting
thoughts. Their relationship was a business one, and yet her
fantasies of him were more intimate and revealing than her dreams
had been for many years. She had to stop this nonsense. If she
continued she would be like a wanton woman for thinking of Louis
this way.

“Here are the latest numbers that I have,” he
said handing her a balance sheet that showed a listing of debts and
credits.

The figures seemed to blur before her eyes as
she breathed in the musky male scent of Louis as he leaned close.
The image of him rolling up his shirtsleeves to play baseball with
her children this afternoon came to mind and she blinked to clear
her vision.

“As you can see the new business is still
down, but I’m confident that should correct itself soon,” Louis
said.

With a resigned sigh she leaned her head back
against the chair. “I’m sorry for putting you through all this just
to prove to me that everything is going well with the business. My
worries have kept you from entertaining one of your lady friends
tonight”

He sat back against the settee. “I don’t
mind. I enjoyed playing with you and your children today.”

“Well, I know that’s all they talked about
while I was tucking them into bed. Renee was falling asleep as I
closed the door. And Philip—I’ve been so worried about him—he told
me he had a good time today.” She paused. “That’s twice you’ve done
something really nice for my children. Thank you.”

“I like kids.”

“Then why aren’t you married with a couple of
your own?” she asked.

He shrugged and appeared ill at ease. “Just
haven’t found anyone since my first wife died; I wanted to be with
her forever.”

Marian stared at Louis, not quite sure he was
what he appeared to be. Yes, he reminded her of Jean, but he was
different. Any man who truly wanted children like Louis proclaimed,
would marry the first woman he found, would he not? What was the
real reason he avoided marriage?

“Tell me what was so special about your wife
that you cannot find in another woman?” she asked. As soon as the
words were out of her mouth she regretted them. “I’m sorry, it’s
really none of my business, and I shouldn’t be asking you questions
like this.”

Louis gazed at her with a curious look upon
his face. “No, I’m simply surprised. You’re the first woman who has
ever asked.” He took a deep breath. “My wife and I grew up
together. She was my best friend, and when I returned from college,
I knew I wanted to marry her.” He reached for the brandy decanter
that sat on the table between them and for a moment Marian feared
he’d said everything he had to say about the subject. But then he
continued.

“We had a traditional wedding and lived at
Belle Fournet, our family’s plantation. Six months after we
married, Anne found she was expecting our child. We were so happy
and she spent her time redecorating the old nursery.”

As he sipped from his glass, his eyes became
distant and filled with pain as he reminisced.

“Anne was a small woman and when it came time
for the baby to be born, she labored for two days before the baby
came, stillborn.” He paused, glancing down at the amber liquid in
his glass. “She never recovered. Eight hours later, I lost her
too.”

He took a big gulp of brandy. “I lost them
both.” Marian sat there stunned, her heart aching for him, knowing
his clipped speech was a result of the pain he still felt.

He shook himself and sat up straighter on the
settee. “I’m sorry, that wasn’t what you asked. You wanted to know
how Anne was different from most women I meet.” He shifted around
restlessly on the settee and then stood up. “Can’t really say.”

“I shouldn’t have asked. It’s just that if
you want more children, you should marry.”

Staring at her over his brandy glass, his
brows rose and he released a deep sigh.

“Now you sound like my father. I don’t need
someone else encouraging me to find a wife,” he said, his words
resigned.

Marian smiled, trying to ease the seriousness
of their conversation. “I like your father. As for finding you a
wife, I am the last person who would push or encourage anyone into
marriage.”

Louis laughed. “No, I think not.”

The clock chimed nine o’clock and Louis
drained the rest of his brandy and sat the glass down on the table.
“It’s getting late, I’d best be going.”

Marian felt a sense of disappointment. She’d
enjoyed his company, though the hour was late.

“I’ll walk you to the door,” she said.

The afternoon had been fun and the time spent
talking about the death of his wife had been revealing. She
couldn’t remember a more enjoyable time spent with a man. She
couldn’t remember a man who intrigued her more than Louis.

They walked through the house, the ticking
clock echoing through the stillness almost in rhythm with the sound
of their shoes against the wooden floor.

When they reached the door she glanced at his
lips, so full, so inviting. If they kissed again, would it be the
same as before or more breathtaking?

She licked her lips, her mouth seeming to go
dry, her lungs feeling as if they wouldn’t expand. She wanted him
to kiss her. She wanted just once more to test if that wondrous
feeling had been a mistake or if she really could experience
passion once again. Maybe she wasn’t as immune to sexual ardor as
she originally thought?

“I enjoyed today,” he said gazing at her, his
blue eyes dark.

“Me, too. Thank you for helping Philip, and
for bringing the beignets and the report.”

He nodded. “My pleasure.”

Louis took her hand and Marian felt dizzy
with expectation. But then he touched his full lips to the back of
her hand in a pleasant kiss that left her disappointed and tense
with longing. She wanted so much more.

Clearing her throat, she raised her chin in a
haughty manner, so he wouldn’t realize her disappointment at the
simple press of lips to the back of her hand.

Her face felt stiff as she smiled.

“Well then I guess I’ll see you back at the
office tomorrow?” he said raising to his full height.

“Yes, tomorrow,” she said breathlessly. “Yes.
I’ll see you then.”

He walked through the door and she closed it
behind him with a lonely click.

She leaned against the door and touched the
back of her hand to her lips. What was wrong with her? The man was
her partner and she had no business wanting to explore sensuous
desires of the flesh with him.

But then never before had she gazed deeply
into a man’s eyes and wanted to feel his hard body beneath her
hands. Or imagined how a man looked beneath his clothes and dreamed
of him carrying her up the stairs and taking her.

This fluttery breathless feeling of
anticipation whenever Louis was around, she’d never experienced
before. Frankly, it frightened her.

She wanted to cry, but the tears had long ago
dried up. Jean had obviously been repulsed at sharing her bed. What
made her think Louis would find her any different?

M
arian sat at her
desk trying to focus on the customer files she had pulled, unable
to think of anything but the man across the hall.

The last two nights she’d spent tossing and
turning in bed, restlessly, her dreams filled with his image. She’d
gone over every detail of the afternoon they’d spent together. Her
imagination must be playing tricks on her to think he gazed with
more than just friendship in his eyes. Yet something in his looks
left her hot and restless.

Sighing, Marian glanced blindly at the
scattered papers before her. With little experience with men and
unable to perpetuate Jean’s interest in their marriage, she doubted
her ability to discriminate between a flirtatious glance and a
friendly hello. Her observations of the other sex could not be
trusted. What made her think any man would be sending her
flirtatious looks? After all, sitting behind this desk, few men
would think of her as a woman, let alone an attractive one.

Creole women had run businesses in New
Orleans for hundreds of years, but the Americans frowned on their
women doing anything other than taking care of the family. Yet in a
way she was taking care of her family by preserving the business
for her son and supporting them.

And though Louis’s family was Creole, he made
it clear that he had adopted the American way of thinking that a
woman’s place was in the home. Perhaps he viewed her behavior as
too masculine to find her attractive?

Footsteps alerted her that someone
approached. Henry came into view, but turned toward Louis’s
office.

“Excuse me, Mr. Fournet, you have a visitor
up front”

Marian stared across the hall at the man her
thoughts centered on. Another visitor? Another woman?

Louis glanced up from the papers on his desk.
“Who is it?”

“A Mrs. Evette Simone.”

Marian gritted her teeth hearing the name of
the well-known widow, renowned for her flirtations. Rumors said she
often took a lover, though Marian didn’t know if this were fact or
just gossip. Still she couldn’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy
at the woman’s daring courage to live the way she wanted, without
the restrictions of propriety.

Louis laughed and shook his head. “Bring her
back to my office, Henry.”

“Yes, Mr. Fournet,” he said, and trotted off
to do his boss’s bidding.

Louis looked up and caught Marian staring at
him. He smiled and nodded in her direction. She tilted her head in
acquiescence and then quickly returned to her papers.

Another woman. She wasn’t jealous. She
wasn’t—just irritated.

“Louis!” the widow called when she saw
him.

He came out of his office to greet her in the
hallway, their bodies turned toward each other, giving Marian a
clear view.

Mrs. Simone’s voice seemed cheerful, her
pouty lips turned up in a come-hither smile.

Marian couldn’t resist watching as the widow
greeted him taking both of his hands in her own. She pulled him
close as she pressed her lips to his cheeks. She leaned back, not
releasing his hands and gazed at him.

“
Mon cher,
I’ve missed you. What woman
has stolen you away from me?” she said, her voice velvet huskiness.
“I will have my servants toss her to the ’gators if she’s stolen
your heart away from me.”

The woman flirted with Louis in a confident
and coquettish manner. A stylish hat sat at a flirtatious tilt on
her head, her dark hair hidden beneath the wide brim. Her clothes
were the latest fashion and prominently showed off her curvaceous
figure. Marian felt a twinge of envy.

“Evette, you know that if my heart were
available, it would belong to you. But, alas, I have no heart,”
said Louis.

She reached up and patted Louis’s cheek with
her hand. “You lie, Monsieur, too easily. Don’t think that you fool
me. I hear how easily you break women’s hearts.”

Louis shook his head, taking her hand and
placing it in the crook of his elbow. He gazed down at her upturned
face. “It’s all untrue. These women make up stories about me. I
would give all women up for you, if I could.”

“Oh please, I know better,” she said as they
walked through the door.

He shut the door behind him, effectively
cutting off the rest of the widow’s response. Marian turned back to
her papers and sighed.

How would it feel to be able to greet men as
if you were bestowing your presence upon them like a gift? To look
them confidently in the eye and flirt with them in an obvious
manner? Why couldn’t she be so confident?

Perhaps because no man had ever wanted her in
such a fashion.

She wished she were in Louis’s office and
could watch their interaction. She wanted to see how the widow
flirted with Louis, take notes, and practice coquettish behavior on
Louis, to see if he would react to her the same way.

Was she crazy? She needed less of Louis
Fournet and his rakish personality, not more. She must never fall
in love or marry a man like him again. Too much charm with so
little substance had proved detrimental when she had been foolish
enough to give her heart away before. Yet he was someone she could
practice her attempts at flirtation on.

The sound of laughter drifted through the
door and she felt a stab of envy. Right here in the office he
flirted with one of his many women friends, while she sat across
the hall straining to hear like a pathetic old maid living
vicariously through others.

How would it feel to have a man respond to
her the way Louis had responded to the widow? How powerful to know
that she could tempt men and banter with them in such a way that
they tripped all over themselves. Was there a school where women
learned the art of social banter and flirtation? Could Marian
attend special classes that taught her the art of seduction and
temptation? Would she graduate with a degree in enticement?

Could any of this have helped keep her
marriage from deteriorating to the point that her husband had
sought other women?

She sighed. Maybe if Jean had stayed home
enough for her to attempt seduction and charm, their marriage would
have lasted. Or maybe his lack of desire for her would have brought
the end quicker.

She frowned at the closed door. What
were
they doing behind that door?

It was none of her business!

With that thought, she jumped up and slammed
her own door. She didn’t want to think any more about what Evette
and Louis were doing. She didn’t want to think about how the widow
might be seducing Louis. Marian had a business to run and a family
to support and she didn’t need any of the distractions Louis’s
women presented. After all, he wasn’t her man.