When Strangers Marry (Vallerands #1)(85)

She bit her lip and looked at the hothouse. The door opened, and Alexandre stuck his head out. His hair was wildly mussed, and his lips were suspiciously moist. “Lysette? I thought I heard—” He froze as he saw Max. They were all silent.

Max was the first to speak. “You have one minute to say good-bye to Henriette. Make it meaningful. Your separation may be permanent.”

Alexandre disappeared inside the building.

Lysette decided to explain as quickly as possible. She spoke without pausing for breath. “Max, they only wanted five minutes together, and I had already promised them I would help, so I couldn’t go back on my word, and if you had only seen how happy they were when I brought Henriette here, you would have understood why I had to—”

“When we get home, I’m going to take you over my knee and ensure that you will not be able to sit comfortably for a long time.”

Lysette blanched. “You wouldn’t.”

“I’m going to enjoy it immensely,” he assured her.

Her arms dropped from around his neck. “Max, let’s discuss this….”

She paused as she realized that Max was not listening; he was gazing into the distance, his eyes alert. “What is it?” she asked.

Max yanked her against his body without warning, fitting his mouth over hers. Lysette squeaked and wriggled in surprise, but his arms were too tight, and his mouth absorbed all sound. He angled his head more deeply over hers, his tongue plunging into her mouth. His hand moved down to her bottom, cupping the soft flesh and pulling her high against the swelling bulge of his sex. Her vision blurred, and her struggles died away. Convulsively she swallowed and strained to press even closer to him. Suddenly he lifted his head, ignoring her soft protest.

“Ah… good evening, Monsieur Clement,” he said thickly.

Lysette’s head snapped around, and she saw Dion Clement’s craggy face not five feet away. His subdued glare seemed to bore right through her.

“I was told my daughter Henriette was with you, Madame Vallerand,” the old man barked. “Where is she?”

Lysette turned back to Max, glancing at him helplessly.

“It seems that we are unable to help you, sir.” Max’s thumb brushed lightly over the top of Lysette’s spine. “I came here with my wife to share a private moment.”

“Then you have not seen Henriette tonight?”

“I swear upon my honor that I have not.”

Lysette closed her eyes, hoping fervently that Alex and Henriette had the sense to stay inside the hothouse.

Chapter 14

Clement considered them both carefully, noting Lysette’s flustered expression and disheveled gown, Max’s unreadable face and obvious state of arousal. They had not been married long— it was hardly implausible that the couple had sneaked out to the garden in search of privacy. Giving them a last suspicious stare, he harrumphed and turned his back, walking away to renew his search for Henriette.

Lysette regarded her husband with dazed gratitude. “If you hadn’t been here, he would have found them. Thank you.”

“Straighten your gown,” he said curtly. “And take Henriette back without delay.”

The star-crossed lovers crept out of the hothouse. Lysette glanced at the girl’s guilt-stricken face and forced a reassuring smile to her lips. “Allons, Henriette— we must go find your tante, quickly.”

Timidly the girl drew away from Alexandre and preceded Lysette on the path back to the main house. Alex bit his lip, apparently wanting to call out to her, but not daring to anger his brother further.

Max watched until his wife disappeared from view, while thin vales of displeasure appeared around his mouth.

Alex gave him a mutinous glare. “Don’t you understand anything about love, Max? Don’t you know how it feels to want someone until your arms ache to hold her? Are you going to claim that had you been in my place you wouldn’t have done the same? I know how you compromised Lysette in order to force her to marry you. And I feel—”

Mockingly Max held up his hands in self-defense. “Enough, Alex. I don’t give a damn if you see Henriette or not. The risk is yours. But when you enlist the help of my wife, it is my right to interfere.”

Alexandre’s self-righteous anger vanished. “Of course,” he mumbled. “But Lysette wanted to help.”

“Of that I have no doubt. She is a softhearted creature, and easily entreated. It presents little difficulty to take advantage of such a generous nature, n’est-ce pas? Don’t involve her again, Alex— I won’t tolerate it.”

Alexandre nodded, shamed by his brother’s words. “I’m sorry, Max. All I have been able to think about is Henriette and—”

“I know that,” Max interrupted.

“You are angry with Lysette. Please don’t blame her. She only did what Henriette and I both begged her to do. You won’t punish her, will you?”

Max lifted his brows and smiled derisively. “Why, Alex… you seem to believe that my wife needs protection from me.”

———

Having returned Henriette safely to her aunt, who had promised she would not betray them to Diron, Lysette withdrew to a dark corner of the outside gallery. Guiltily she half hoped Max would not find her, though she knew she would have to face him sooner or later. The crowd of guests inside the house was moving toward the dining room, where midnight supper was being served. For her the ball had lost its glitter; she felt distinctly uneasy.