Only With Your Love (Vallerands #2)(67)

The next day she stayed in the garçonnière. She occupied herself with her sketches and watercolors, but her artwork was not as calming as usual. In the middle of the cool, blustery afternoon she took a walk in the garden and encountered Justin, who was exercising his leg.

“I wondered when you’d come out of hiding,” he remarked. His blue eyes traveled boldly over her close-fitting gown of gray muslin and ruby velvet. Although the gown was high-necked it displayed the fullness of her br**sts, and it clung to her waist and h*ps as she walked.

“Hiding?” Celia repeated coolly, ignoring his masculine inspection. “I was not hiding.”

“Then why did you have breakfast and lunch in the garçonnière?”

“Because I wished to be alone.”

“You were hiding from me.”

“I was avoiding you. I do not happen to find your company enjoyable, much as that may surprise you! But I suppose you do not believe it.”

He smiled slowly. “Not entirely.”

“I suppose you think that when you leave I’ll throw myself into your arms and beg you to take me with you.”

“Not at all. You’ll stay here and be a tante to Lysette’s children until you’re old and gray. You’ll be a model of propriety. They’ll find it impossible to believe you were ever young. After a few decades have passed your misadventures with me will be nothing but a distant memory. You’ll be quiet and contented, respected by everyone who knows you.”

“It doesn’t sound like such a dreadful fate.”

“For you it would be.”

“Oh?” She gave him a haughty stare. “What kind of life do you think would be better for me?”

“I offered it to you once.”

He had offered to make her his mistress and take her around the world. He had thought she would jump at his promises of homes and jewels and fine clothes, as if she were nothing but an expensive whore. “Your offer was an insult!”

“You’re the only woman I’ve ever wanted such an arrangement with.”

“Are you making the offer again?” she sneered.

“As I recall, I never withdrew it.”

“You are mad if you think I would consider—”

“You’ll consider it,” he said. The amusement left his gaze, and his eyes flashed dark and blue. “Before I leave for good I’ll make certain of that.”

She froze as he walked toward her with his faulty steps. “No,” she whispered. His hands clenched at her waist.

“Little fool. You know there’s something between us that no one else would begin to understand. Something you never had with Philippe.”

She slapped his face and wrenched herself away from him, breathing choppily. Her palm was tingling from the force of the blow, and she saw that she had left a red mark on his cheek. She was shocked at her actions, horrified by how easily he had caused her to forget herself. They stared at each other for a moment, and then Justin’s intensity faded. He surveyed her with his familiar insolence. “All that fire,” he said softly. “That night at the lake you nearly burned me alive.”

“After what I’ve done for you I deserve better than your crude remarks!” She heard him laugh as she whirled and tried to leave, but then he caught her hand.

“Celia, wait—”

“Leave me alone!”

“You’re right, you deserve much better than that. Forgive me.” Faced with her glare, he enfolded her small hand in both of his. “I won’t mention that night again.”

“Bien! Now leave me in peace a-and take your offer with you!”

His blue eyes were remorseful. “I shouldn’t have teased you. I behaved badly.”

“You always behave badly.” But she stopped trying to pull away from him.

He smiled at her, and his gaze fell to their joined hands. When he looked back at her face, there was a new seriousness in his tone. “Let me walk with you.”

“Non, you should go inside and rest—”

“Please.”

Suddenly she was disarmed and flustered. His hands were warm and strong around hers. “Please,” he repeated quietly, and she could not resist.

They walked the length of the three-acre garden. Justin exerted himself to be nice, nicer than he ever had been to her before. He entertained her with stories of pranks he and Philippe had pulled, charming her out of her uneasiness and making her laugh. He glanced at her frequently, and in spite of herself she could not stop herself from comparing the way he looked at her to the way Philippe had. Philippe had been quietly confident and very certain of her. But there was a searching quality in Justin’s gaze, as if there were a thousand things about her that he had yet to discover. The reference he had made before to the night they had been together had truly distressed her…and yet, he was the only man in her life who had ever seemed to consider her a passionate woman. And somehow being thought of in that way was not altogether unpleasant.

“You’re beautiful when you laugh,” he told her when they were almost back at the main house, and she looked at him in surprise.

“I wonder if it is wrong to laugh, to enjoy anything, when I am mourning Philippe. Sometimes I feel guilty even for smiling when he is not here to share—”