Chapter One

Paris 1824

Elisa Moreau stepped inside the brothel in Paris with her delivery in hand. She turned at the doorway, shaking out her rain stopper, water sluicing into the alley even as the wind gusted around the corner sending the door banging shut behind her. The hard fast drops pounded on the roof above. It was truly a nasty day outside. She hoped inside the environment would prove to be a bit warmer.

She inhaled deeply enjoying the smell of freshly baked bread linked with other delicious, tempting aromas filling the kitchen. The cook, Francois, was a particular friend of hers, so he tolerated her presence in his kitchen like no other. She supposed it was so because she’d known him from birth, played with the pots and pans along with the measuring cups in his kitchen. Vividly, she recalled his thinly veiled curses when he couldn’t find a utensil he needed.

Once a year she handed over the completed books for the madam in this Paris brothel as well as those for her mother in her brothel in the city of Bordeaux. Her mother saw to her education even while she protested the need for such a thing. Now she appreciated her particular skills, realizing she was a very lucky woman.

Elisa always entered Margaux’s establishment through the servant’s entrance behind the building before making her way through the kitchen. Angelique, her mother, insisted that no one see her entering or leaving the brothel to protect her reputation. Anyone who knew her, everyone she cared about understood she was the daughter of a notorious and wealthy Madame. What difference did it make whether she entered through the back or the front door? Still, she never argued with her mother or her mother’s best friend.

The two women had known each other for years, Margaux beginning her career with Angelique in the bordello in Paris until Angelique moved her business to Bordeaux leaving the brothel in Paris to Margaux. Both women spent the years keeping Elisa from seeing the seamier side of their business all the while failing miserably in their attempts. It was just too difficult to keep a precocious child from exploring and seeing things she shouldn’t. Despite the lectures coupled with dire warnings until Elisa was sent away to the small cottage in the Bordeaux region of France, she continued to do and go as she pleased within the buildings owned by both her mother and Margaux. In the country her behavior changed little. However, she had fewer opportunities to find trouble. Her bodyguards kept a constant watch over her, steering her away from her curiosity, turning her life into one of avid boredom.

She stopped in the kitchen, sampling some of the delicacies that would be served later this evening when the business was at its prime hours. Madam Margaux prided herself in her kitchen as well as the food along with the very expensive wines she served her clientele. At the moment, except for the ladies chatting about the evening to come, the house was very nearly empty. A small game of chance was going on in a backroom. Other than that, only the people who lived in the brothel were about.

“Bonne journee, mademoiselle Elisa. How is your day? It’s not so beautiful out there but at least you did not get a soaking. That rain stopper of yours must be doing a good job.” Francois greeted her with a broad grin holding his arms out for a hug.

“I like the rain,” Elisa said with a smile and a wink, searching the platters already heaped high with mountains of food. “What have you got here that warrants a taste before I bring these documents to Margaux?”

“Ah, I see you’ve been keeping yourself busy with your work. Seems as if a lady as beautiful as you with such sparkling and unusual blue-violet eyes would have a man by now. You spend too much time burying your nose in your books and not spending time with your friends.”

Her heart had been with one man since she was six-years-old, when he kissed her on the lips, twirling her in a grand circle while she told him she loved him. Remembering that hot summer day, as well as his sudden appearance near her small cottage with his friend Gil. His smile was a quirky half-smile with a dimple showing on the other side of his mouth. Whenever she thought about that gorgeous dimple, she wanted to kiss him there. Her mother as well as Margaux would have an absolute fit if they knew the direction of her thoughts.

The two young men had been riding bareback, wild and free, shouting and yelling their pleasure as they wove their way through the vineyards of the Bordeaux countryside. Neither wore a shirt. Their skin was bronzed from the sun, sweat sliding down their well-muscled chests. She didn’t know why she recalled that so vividly but nonetheless she did.

“What are you grinning at, mon amie?” Francois asked. “A special young man who will whisk you away from all this boring everyday drudgery? Oui, I hope it is so.”

Having been caught in her dreams, a wave of heat rose to Elisa’s cheeks. She waved her hand in the air not really wanting to divulge her secret desires to Francois who would most likely tease her incessantly. “Nothing.” She popped a small delicacy into her mouth and rolled her eyes at the incredible taste. “Tres bon. I’d ask you for the recipe but I know you’ll refuse.”

“Ah, oui, you change the subject quite handily for a young woman. Your verbal skills perhaps are too sharp for a sensible man. You must change your ways. Stop intimidating the masculine species.” Francois laughed as he pulled a tray of tiny lavender cakes from the oven, the icing sitting nearby waiting to decorate the delicious morsels. “I will not pursue the question. It seems you keep secrets from me, non? That is not well done of you. I would know everything,” he sighed softly. “I suppose you share those secrets with Margaux. Should I be jealous?”

“Some,” she reluctantly admitted, knowing there was very little anyone except her mother knew about her.

Margaux was a woman who would never judge or criticize nor would she relay her most inner thoughts to her mother. She was a sounding board for her even though her mother never judged either. She always wondered what Angel, the Madame, was thinking versus Angelique her mother. When she spoke, she would always have to figure out which persona was listening to her.

She enjoyed Paris as well as her friends from school even though she was growing bored with the endless parties along with the secret dalliances she didn’t want to find herself caught up in. None of those people would stay friends with her if they knew what her mother did for a living, yet many of the young men she knew frequented this brothel as well as her friends’ fathers. The ties of home linked with the small cottage where she lived tugged at her heartstrings. Perhaps it was time to leave the city and return to a place where she felt more comfortable.

“You going to see Margaux? Bring her this tray of snacks, this pot of tea also. Both of you enjoy with my blessings. Don’t leave without saying goodbye. I will give you a little something to take with you to your apartment.”

“I will. Merci beaucoup.” Elisa kissed his chubby cheek before she swept up the tray and headed for the lavish suite of rooms where Margaux lived, her heart racing. She knew Margaux would ask her questions about her love life. All her answers would be the same as the last time she was here. For many years, she tried to keep the mention of Etienne Dubois from the talks they shared. It was useless. Eventually, she gave in telling the madam all about him along with that day she fell in love with the young man.

On her way upstairs, she stopped several times to chat and say hello to the women she’d befriended over the years. She understood these ladies as well as why most of them sold themselves. Her mother had been in the horrible position of having a baby coupled with having no husband when she first entered the business. At that time, Angelique had no way to support herself let alone her child other than to sell her body. When she rose to the position of madam of her own bordello, she vowed that any lady who wanted out of the business she would help them find their way.

With her foot pressed against the hardwood, Elisa tapped on the door. “Margaux, it’s me, Elisa. May I come in? I cannot open the door. My hands are full.”

A few seconds later the door swung open. A beaming Margaux with open arms awkwardly embraced her before kissing her on both cheeks. “Bonjour, and how are you this fine day?”

“Happy to have all your books completed. You made a fine profit this year, enough to take a vacation although you never seem to want to do that. You should find some time for yourself, even if it’s just to visit Bordeaux and my lovely mother.” Elisa brought the tray to a small table in the parlor of the suite of rooms Margaux occupied.

“I do not like vacations. They are a horrible waste of my time. Who would run this place if I wasn’t here? Tell me. Francois? Bah,” she paused thoughtfully, seeming to realize any number of people could keep it going for a few weeks. Then with a heavy sigh, “Do you want to chat first or talk business first,” Margaux asked, pouring the tea. “Sugar?”

“Non. Let’s talk business then you can grill me on all my nonexistent beaus. My status has not changed since last I was here.” Elisa laughed thinking suddenly her status might never vary. She’d never had a beau. Still, she only thought of Etienne coupled with that one chaste kiss so many years ago. It seemed she relived that moment over and over again.

Margaux would berate her for still feeling love for this young man she never truly knew. Despite her attempts to do just that, she couldn’t help the emotions sweeping through her whenever she thought of him. Every time she closed her eyes at night, she would see the wild young man and the debonair smile flashing on his handsome face as well as his dark brown eyes sparkling with some unknown joke.

Elisa picked up the box containing all her work before settling down on a comfortable chair. She quickly brought out the ledger, which she carefully designed so Margaux could easily read the results of her business this past quarter.

By the time they finished, the sun was beginning to go down. The crowds outside the madam’s door had become more boisterous, the music livelier. The night was clearly going to be busy, but Margaux didn’t show any signs of wishing to visit the customers.

Margaux reached forward, touching the back of her hand. “Now it is time for you to tell me about yourself as well as what you’ve been doing for the past months since last I saw you. I pray it has not been all work and no play.”

“That’s what I was afraid you’d ask. I’ve not really done anything you would approve of or for that matter disapprove either.”

Elisa looked to the window and the last dying rays of the sun which managed to peak out from behind dark gray clouds. No, she’d pretty much kept to herself, distancing herself from the people she’d met at school before they would find out who her mother was, and in the process, shun her themselves.

“So, you have not found a young man to replace your Etienne Dubois. You need to look farther than the end of your nose, young lady. Eligible men don’t just fall out of trees, you know.”

At her look of surprise, Margaux cleared her throat. “I spoke with your mother a few weeks ago. It was a vacation of sorts as Bailey drove me to Bordeaux for a long-needed visit, a much-needed visit for both of us. Between the two of us we decided your young man must be Pruitt Dubois’ son. We put together the things you told us. It was not too difficult to come to that conclusion.”

“I didn’t know his name at the time.” She was just as surprised as she supposed the look on her face told Margaux. “I was only six when the rogue kissed me.  Since then, I’ve been in school in Paris. Mother thought it best to send me away. Now I understand why.”

“She didn’t want you that close to the young man who stole your heart when you were just a little girl. He was way too old for you at the time. Could have taken advantage of you,” Margaux was laughing but the humor suddenly vanished.

“As you point out, he is or was too old for me then, nevertheless. He would not have found a six-year-old interesting or appealing in any way. I don’t believe for one second he would take advantage of me.”

Elisa thought on the lost years and wondered why she was still so enamored of someone who didn’t know or care that she existed, a man she’d known for one brief moment in time. It was with great difficulty that she tried to push thoughts of Etienne Dubois from her mind, telling herself she didn’t even know what kind of man he was. He could be cruel or hateful. He could be a womanizer.

“Until now.”

“I suppose, until now. Don’t know how old he was then so I certainly don’t know his age in the present.”

Margaux leaned back in her chair, her hands clasped together beneath her chin. The pose was one of her favorites. “He frequents my place from time to time. I heard he has been to several other countries over the years. It seems he always returns with rumors and gossip about his adventures on his heels. He is not the sort you want to be acquainted with, especially not a man worthy of your love. I’ve heard he is a very dangerous man. Not the sort you would want as a husband even if he was amenable. By his actions here, in this establishment, Etienne Dubois is far from amenable. Mark my words. He is not for you, Elisa. Not good enough by far. You need to forget him, put him in the back of your mind. Find a man who will treat you with respect.”

Elisa felt her heart sink at Margaux’s words. She wanted his behavior to be heaped with praise, not liking the fact that now she was discovering Etienne was a bounder and a cad of the worst sort. What exactly made him a dangerous man?

“What were the rumors about?” she blurted the question she really didn’t want to know the answer to.

“From what I’ve heard mostly fathers searching for him so he would marry their daughters. He’s obviously not the marrying kind.” She sat up as a knock on the door caught their attention. “Come in.”

It was Francois personally delivering dinner. “Your assistant, Gabriella, is not feeling well today. She asked if I could bring this to the both of you and not to have any worries. When the new girl arrives, she would personally see to her and make sure she is comfortable. A room is waiting for her along with a list of possible clients.”

“I had wondered where Gabriella was, but I was so lost in conversation this afternoon with Elisa I didn’t think to ask. I can see to the new girl when she arrives.”

“No,” he laughed, “she made me promise to insist you visit to your heart’s content. You see Elisa so seldom. In any case, one of your bodyguards will be at the front door. He will let Gabriella know when the new girl arrives.”

When the cook left, “Would you like me to pour the wine?” Elisa rose, examining the bottle and the writing on the label. “This bottle comes from the Dubois vineyards. So, you do business with the older man, with Etienne’s father?”

“I do and when Etienne is in town for his usual short visits, he handles the sales personally. After the deliveries are seen to, he partakes of a night of pleasure, on the house. Otherwise, his friend Gil takes charge of the shipments of wine. I suppose it must have been Gil with him that day Etienne made such an impression on you.”

Waving her hand in the air before sipping the wine she’d poured, “It must have been. I’ve heard that except for his travels they were always inseparable. Do you know why he is always travelling?” Elisa couldn’t stem the curiosity she still felt for this man. It was something she could not vanquish from her heart.

“Gil would have made a much better man to lose your heart to. I don’t suppose he kissed you too?”

“Unfortunately, he did not dismount before sweeping me into his arms for a quick thank you kiss along with a lasting impression.”

“How is your mother?” Margaux asked seeming to think it necessary to change the subject. “Last I heard she was doing better than ever. Thriving actually.”

Elisa let out a long-drawn out sigh, unsure of how exactly to answer the question posed to her. Her father showed up last year, demanding a part of the business, a business he had nothing to do with over the years. Angelique’s lawyers were the best and kept the unwilling partnership from happening, but he’d shown up several more times at the brothel, drunk and demanding free service.

“Mother is feeling her age. At least that is what she would tell you. Father has visited the bordello several times expecting full use of any woman he finds attractive. Each time the girl he was with was severely beaten. Mother’s guards have standing orders to throw him out if he ever comes again, however his presence has served as a painful reminder of her past. A place she does not wish to visit or recall.”

“No, I suppose she doesn’t. Vividly, I recollect her story. With you just a wee babe, she ran from him in the middle of the night. If not for the kindly madam she met, the two of you would have starved. That single moment changed her life for the better, although I realize many condescending people would not see the circumstance in that light.”

Leaning on her elbows with her chin resting in the palms of her hands. “Tell me about Gil. Does he also visit here? Perhaps he would be a better more responsible choice for my heart. I could always try to meet him. See if there was something for me.” Elisa laughed then, wishing for what she wasn’t at all sure. “But I wouldn’t know how to go about meeting him.”

“Gil is more responsible,” Margaux paused for a moment still smiling, “He is still a rake. Not someone for an innocent like yourself. Neither Gil nor Etienne are anywhere close to settling down. It has been suggested that when the right woman comes along, the man will change. From all the circulating stories I’ve heard, I doubt if Etienne will ever differ from the path he’s on. He seems to like the danger and intrigue he’s surrounded himself with. Some men just don’t have it in them to be satisfied with only one woman. Even if that woman is as lovely and precious as you are.” Margaux stood then, walking to the window and staring out at the city. From her vantage point Elisa knew she could see some of the landmarks that people visited Paris to attend. The view from her window was quite picturesque.

“How are you doing besides monetarily? Have you ever wished that you could leave this work and find an honest man to keep you in the lap of luxury surrounded by children?” Elisa asked, half grinning half knowing the answer.

“So, you change the subject from you to me. You do that quite handily.” She stayed at the window. “The lap of luxury. I think this is the best it gets. I’ve got everything I’ve ever wanted coupled with more money than I can ever spend. Why would I want a man to beat me down? To command and order me?”

“They are not all like that.” Elisa was determined to see the best in men.

She had to or she would give up on her dreams of a home and family. Children were part of her dreams.

“Name one who is not,” Margaux challenged.

Elisa sipped her wine, the silence echoing in the small room while she tried to think of someone. She could not. In any case, she didn’t know enough men to even consider suggesting one.

“I didn’t think so,” Margaux said sarcasm coating her voice.

“There must be some. As you well comprehend, I don’t know many men. Actually, only a few boys from school who have tried to steal kisses a time or two. I’ve told them non. They are not interested in me as a person, just what they can glean from me.”

“Good for you. We both know and I’m sure your mother has told you more than once, kisses lead to other things. Things we don’t want to deal with. If you ever get into trouble, I want you to come to me if you don’t feel your mother will understand.”

“Since there is no one I’m interested in, I’m sure that will not happen. No kisses… I could only hope for one more from…”

“Do not dream of that man any longer. He is not worth your time.” Margaux shook a finger at her. “He is incorrigible. Where women are concerned, Etienne has only one thing on his wicked man’s brain.”

“Wicked man’s brain?” Elisa laughed understanding the drama of the moment. “Whatever does that mean?”

Margaux poured them both another glass of wine. “You should clear your mind of that man and…”

“And what?” Elisa challenged, wishing for more information. “I don’t know anyone in the city. Heaven knows you cannot introduce me to any of your customers. They would think the wrong thing. How am I to meet a man who will take my heart away from Etienne? Tell me that.”

“We have many of the best in the city who come here. There are dukes and earls many wealthy bankers along with lawyers.” Margaux turned from her view, “I would have to figure out some way for them to meet you outside this building. I’m afraid I don’t have any idea how to go about that. Perhaps Bailey can figure something out.”

“No, I don’t suppose there is any way for that and I’m actually grateful. I’m not in a hurry to marry or meet a duke. That could prove to be very boring. Duke’s tend to be stuffy. Don’t you think? There are plenty of years ahead of me.”

“What are you planning?” Margaux asked appearing suddenly wary.

“I’m going back to the country. Mother has promised security for me. I miss the home I grew up in the countryside with it rolling hills. I like to walk down the rows of grapes as well as watch the sun set behind the hills. The moon is bigger there, the stars brighter, so brilliant sometimes it seems one can reach out, touch them with their hand. When there is a storm, one can feel the excitement as well as the energy to their very bones.” She held up her hands a chuckle following. “I’m not giving up on finding a husband. Maybe a nice vineyard owner would take my mind off the elusive and roguish Etienne Dubois.”

“Perhaps one would. Now, I’m not trying to get rid of you but would you like an escort home tonight? The hour does grow late. I would make sure you get through this part of Paris safely. At night it can be dangerous for a woman alone.”

“I’ll hire a cab right in front of your door. I promise to keep my hood over my head so no one will recognize me. Should we finish the wine then call it a night?” she asked feeling a sense of relief now that the conversation about her love life appeared to be over.

“Of course, a cab would be perfect. I deposited the money you earned in your bank account. Do you have enough money with you for the fare?”

“Just enough and not a penny more. Mother taught me not to carry a lot of coin with me while I’m in the city.”

Elisa closed her eyes as she drank small sips of the wine, feeling the effects of the alcohol as it seemed to warm her while making everything a bit hazy. How many glasses did she drink? Perhaps she should see if there was an empty room so she could stay the night. It wouldn’t be the first time she spent the evening in a brothel. It most likely would not be the last.

Her mother used to let her stay at the one in Bordeaux during the week when she was younger. She had seen things young women should not. Still, she was fairly innocent in the ways of men and sex. The lectures from both Angelique and Margaux had been numerous as to what she shouldn’t do, but they’d never told her what to expect if she wanted to have sex with a man. From what she’d seen in the brothels along with what the two women told her that the knowledge was all a jumble in her mind.

“What has you grinning?” Margaux asked setting her glass on the table. “You have this strange look in your eyes.”

“I was thinking about what I do know coupled with what I don’t know about sex. What I’ve seen and what you and mother have told me. None of it makes senses. It’s all a confusing tangled mess in my head.”

“It’s best we keep it that way until you are betrothed. When that happens, I will be more than delighted to explain everything as I’m sure your mother will also. At that time, not a moment sooner, will either one of us enlighten you as to the ways of a man and woman in love. It is much different than what goes on beneath this roof.”

She sighed softly, the sound a small whisper in the evening air. “I’ve changed my mind and thought I might ask if I can stay the night. If there is an empty room that is. I’m tired and it seems the wine has crept up on me. I’m a bit dizzy headed.”

“Yes, of course. I’ll call Bailey. He can escort you to one of our vacant rooms upstairs.” Margaux rose from her chair, a small groan as she kneaded her back. “Just as with your mother, age might be getting the best of me. Sometimes it hurts just to stand up if I’ve been sitting too long.”

“I can find my way. Is it the room on the third floor? The one I stayed in a few months ago?” She placed a kiss on Margaux’s cheek.

“No, at present the only empty one is on the second floor, first door on the right. Do have a nice rest.”

“Thank you. I’ll see you in the morning then.”

Elisa felt a strange exhilaration. It was a feeling she couldn’t put a word too. She didn’t understand the sensation as she felt as if something momentous might be about to happen, something that would sway the course of her life.

“Perhaps. I don’t get up so early any more. If you are up and need to be on your way, then go, don’t wait for me to rise.”

“I won’t. I’m awfully tired. I’m not sure how early I will be up. I know I’ve got until the afternoon.” Thought of lazing the morning in bed appealed to her vanity. She’d not thought to do anything of that sort in ages. Mayhap she was the one who needed a vacation. As everyone important to her insinuated, she spent too much time working.

Elisa walked from the room then into the main hall. Looking around, the scene in front of her was much different from when she arrived. Music played loudly. Men along with scantily clad women were scattered around, sitting on couches, kissing and doing other less platonic things. Over the years, she’d become used to this panorama as she visited Angelique as well as Margaux. She grinned, despite her mother’s best efforts to keep her away from this. She felt at home in this environment.

Second and third thoughts assailed her as she thought of the pros and cons of staying the night. At the front door, she stopped for a moment before realizing she left her cloak in the kitchen when she came in through the back. Perhaps she should leave that way too. She didn’t want to walk in the dark alley though. Most of all didn’t want to wait for Bailey to escort her. No, she would go to the room Margaux spoke of.

Second floor, first door on the right.

She didn’t make it very far before a large hand, settled around her arm roughly stopping her. “There you are. Been looking all over for you. Where do you think you’re going?”

“I don’t know what you mean. You need to let me go.” She was surprised as she felt a moment of discomfort but was sure this could be easily explained.

“You the new girl. I’ve got to get you settled then find some work for you. A possible client list for your inspection is at the front door,” he replied. “Customers are waiting. Come along.”

She tried to brush the hand away, which seemed to have tightened over the last second. Panic set in, “Let me go.” She wasn’t the new girl. She wasn’t going to peruse a client list nor did she intend to entertain any customers.

“You having second thoughts about this job? Can’t do that. You signed a contract for a month. Have to fulfill it.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She summoned as much force as she could. For Elisa this was a shattering scene, something she’d not expected. The man coupled with his arrogance along with the wine left her with a loss for explanatory words. The Neanderthal probably wouldn’t believe her anyway. Where was Bailey?

“Let me go. If Margaux knew I was having second thoughts, she wouldn’t force me.”

He turned her, shaking her slightly. “Can’t do that. The madam would have my hide if she found out I let the new girl leave without fulfilling her contract. I’d lose my job. Can’t have that. While it’s no matter to me, why did you sign something you weren’t willing to fulfill?”

Elisa understood arguing with this man wasn’t going to get her anywhere. After all, his point was well taken. The man didn’t know her, would of course assume she was something she wasn’t. She just needed to find a familiar face. “I want to see Margaux.”

“New girls don’t get favors. You need to learn to call her Madam Margaux. Now I’m going to take your cloak for you. I’ll hang it up right here by the door. Do you have a valise? Where is it? Then you are going to behave yourself, do as you’re told. Everything will be fine if you do.”

He let her go of her arm then. Momentarily, she thought to dart into the kitchen. Francois would defend her. Tell this man she was hardly the new girl, however when she turned, her gaze rested on the stairway, her breath catching in her throat as she stared mesmerized at the picturesque view in front of her. The sight was something she dreamed of almost every night since their first kiss.

“Etienne…” she whispered softly, staring at the man wide-eyed who seemingly heard his name stopped and was now looking over his shoulder straight at her. His dark brown eyes melting her right where she stood.

Inside her chest, her heart thundered, beating so rapidly she thought she might swoon. She couldn’t be sure this was Etienne. Still, he looked as she imagined him. He was taller, his shoulders broader than she recalled. His dark hair was disheveled, a thick strand hanging rakishly across his forehead in that charming way the six-year-old girl remembered. She wanted to get close enough so she could see the sparkle in his deep brown eyes as well as the quirky, dimpled smile she remembered.

Etienne pointed at her. “I want that girl.”

~ * ~

Earlier that afternoon, Etienne wiped the sweat and blood from his face. Gil landed a few solid punches to his face. His friend was an established boxer and he’d spent the night before drinking and gambling. He touched his nose, grimacing a moment while at the same time, hoping it wasn’t broken again. The women in his life would of course, appreciate the slight flaw fawning over him to get his attention. He grinned.

“You’re getting old,” Gil said with a chuckle as he wiped sweat from his body then dipping his towel into a basin of water, he repeated the process. “I didn’t used to be able to best you so soundly or so quickly.”

“Just as old as you.” Etienne shot back without hesitation, thinking he needed to spend more time with this type of physical activity rather than those with the ladies. “Just a bit rusty on my boxing skills. With a little time, I’ll be back to my old pace.”

“It’s your lifestyle. You should think about settling down with a good woman.”

“Don’t suppose you know any? I certainly don’t,” Etienne laughed, looking in a mirror and dabbing at the blood over his eye. Where women were concerned, he was more than slightly jaded. No one would believe him but his heart had been broken several times during his younger years. Besides, his life at the moment didn’t lend itself to serious dalliances. Working for the French government took all his concentration. Distraction was not an asset to his work. Now, he vowed to never lay his heart on the line again. He poured water into a basin before splashing the liquid on his face, feeling the cooling droplets slide across his body. “Need a bath before tonight. Want to come with me?”

“For a bath, no. You seeing a lady or are you going to the bordello?” Gil asked, grinning at him as he also cooled his body with the water.

“No, gave up on good ladies. Present me with a naughty one anytime. Get into too much trouble with the good ones. Seems they expect certain things I’m not willing to offer. Going to Margaux’s. Might do a little gambling beforehand. See how my luck is running.”

Etienne thought on the last girl he bedded. When her father discovered him in her bed, he had to go out the second story window without his boots to escape a marriage. That was the last time he would put his life in jeopardy, especially when he knew of a respectable brothel, a place where he could have a night of pleasure without being worried about his life and limbs or losing a perfectly good pair of boots. He walked away from that night with a turned ankle and he was just glad nothing had been broken.

“Guess I’ll join you. Don’t have anything better to do. Madam Margaux’s establishment is usually quite the thing?” Gil asked grinning.

“Heard there was a new girl coming tonight. Perhaps I’ll give her a try.” Etienne was toweling his hair knowing he needed something new in his life even if it was a whore. Perhaps she was new to the business, not just to Margaux’s establishment. A virgin, non, he didn’t want to dally with an untried lady while having to worry about hurting her.

“Heard she’s a virgin. Personally, don’t want anything to do with virgins,” Gil said as he towel dried his golden hair.

Two hours later the two men entered Margaux’s establishment. Etienne grinned, planning his night. He had profits from the delivery of wine this morning. Now he was going to relax and enjoy the games as well as the spirits. If things went his way tonight, he would enjoy more than the gambling. A night spent in a willing woman’s arms was just what he needed before he left on his next mission.

Bailey led them through the rooms to one in the back with a cluster of small tables. Brandy as well as wine flowed freely. The stakes were high. They sat with some other gentlemen. A few minutes later the cards were dealt. He leaned back in the chair, a cheroot in his hand, smiling. When his funds were plenty, he rarely lost. It was only when he was desperate for money that he would come out of the game with less than when he entered into it.

Tonight, he was restless though. He didn’t know why. Gil presented new ideas, ones he needed to consider. His father was after him to settle down and provide grandchildren, an heir to the Dubois vineyards. He didn’t know where to find a good woman, one who his father would approve. Certainly, he wouldn’t find that type of respectable woman in this house of ill repute.

Possibly he was tired of playing the games of love. Maybe he was looking in all the wrong places. If he found someone, he would settle down, become a decent human and father he hoped. Problem was he seemed to gravitate toward women who, well, women who were less than ladies. They either wanted him for the sex or for what he could give them. He decided the next country he visited, he would lie about who he was then maybe, just maybe, he could find a suitable woman.

“You in or are you just going to stare at your cards?” one of the players asked with a smirk, apparently sure of his hand.

“In,” he said, fingering his cards, still acting distracted yet he was fully alert and sizing up the expressions on every man’s face. Perhaps this was as good a hand as any he was going to get tonight.

The games continued for a few more hours until Etienne tired of the sport. He’d won a sizable amount. Luck was with him. Most of his winnings he planned to lavish on the prostitute he was going to spend the night with. He smiled to himself thinking of the night to come; of soft breasts, a sweetly curving hip, the soft velvet between the woman’s legs.

“I’m done,” he said, stretching his gaze to Gil with a silent question. “You coming or staying?”

“Tired of cards. So…” Gil stood seeming a bit confused, running his hands through his hair, his expression one that told Etienne he wasn’t sure what he wanted. “Not really in the mood for a woman. Think I’ll go to the apartment. See you tomorrow afternoon for another boxing lesson.”

Etienne let out a long chortle wondering what Gil was truly up to. “I will be giving you the instructions, mon ami.”

“You can hope.”

They spent some time in the foyer, chatting and watching the women as they showed themselves to the two men. “Change your mind?” Etienne asked as he saw the slow smile of appreciation cross his friend’s face when a certain woman with huge breasts and swaying hips approached them.

“Perhaps the little red head is appealing tonight. Seems she has all the necessary assets.” Gil stared at her while she stepped closer, her hand on his shoulder, her breasts pushing against his chest, her silver-blue eyes twinkling. “Guess I’ll stay.”

Etienne watched his friend leave with the woman. Searching the room, he didn’t find anyone especially tempting. He leaned against the wall, his arms crossed in front of his chest. Perhaps he should just leave. Maybe what he sought couldn’t be found here tonight.

“You need a woman?” A blond with sparkling brown eyes pressed against him, running her hand along his chest, pushing her ripe full breasts evocatively against him.

Her lips were too red, her face too made up, but, “What the hell?”

“I can ease your stress,” she murmured softly taking his hand. “Along with whatever else ails you. Don’t ask questions. Don’t judge.”

He realized she must have seen the money he won. Once again, the lady wanted what he could give her not him. The fact didn’t help his jaded heart even when he reminded himself he was in a bordello. Lord but he wanted someone who wanted him. “You could give it a try,” he told her, thinking once more what the hell. She was a warm willing body to relive his baser needs. That was all he needed tonight.

Warm and willing.

Scotland called to him. He was going to be sent there on a secret mission. His operatives were on their way. He’d yet to receive the details. Next week, after seeing his father and saying his goodbyes, he would head to Glasgow. He’d never been to the land of kilts and bagpipes. Perhaps that country would give him a new interest, some lady he could call his own. Yes, he would go to Glasgow. Tonight however, he meant to have sex with the woman standing next to him.

“I will do more than try,” she murmured as his hand slipped around her waist before moving higher to rest just below her breast. He felt the small shiver of passion as her pliant woman’s curves molded against him. She tossed her head sending a wave of blond curls around his arm.

“Where is your room?” He started forward, matching her small steps as they headed up the stairs while he explored more interesting spots with his hands.

A whisper of his name in the noisy room caught his attention. Halfway up the steps he stopped, turning to search the room. His heart caught in his throat as his gaze rested on a woman near the door. Her back was stiff as were her shoulders. There was something intriguing about the provocative face, the soft lips as well as the tilt of her regal chin. She met his gaze, moistening her lips with the tip of her tongue then slowly closing and opening her eyes. For a moment, his heart forgot to beat.

He had never seen a woman as beautiful or one who had him lusting after her with just one look. The darkening of her eyes spoke of passion. Her sensuality seemed to take over every part of her, calling his name as no other woman could. What the devil was this woman doing in a bordello when she could have any man she wanted? His actions now might impact the rest of his life, but damnation, he couldn’t resist.

“I want that girl.” He didn’t know if she was the new girl but the talk around the table tonight had revolved around a new woman coming to the brothel. He’d never seen her here before. He understood the price would be higher. As he also knew the madam would indulge him in this, simply because it seemed Margaux had a soft spot for him, spoiling him when others scorned his ways.

“Mais non,” the blond said.

“Sorry, sweetheart. You can find someone else.” His full attention turned to the young woman staring at him wide-eyed from the bottom of the steps.

The manager standing beside her placed his hand on her waist before whispering something he couldn’t hear. She nodded as if accepting his request. Slowly, they made their way up the steps toward him. Her lips were parted invitingly even as he saw the flush paint her cheeks along with the slight trembling of her petite frame. She was everything he could ever hope for.

He met her halfway, taking her hand in his. Before bending over, he caught her gaze with his, “Enchante mademoiselle.” He kissed the back, felt the shiver pass from her into him, and knew he’d remember this night forever.

“Bonsoir,” she spoke softly, her words whisper thin as he sensed the potent surge of energy sweeping between them. He felt the soft flutter of air as she let out the breath she’d been holding. Then she looked upward, their gazes meeting his in a haze of powerful desire he could read clearly in her eyes.

She wanted him.

He watched as she seemed to try to inhale a large dose of air, her bottom lip finding purchase beneath her small white teeth. He thought of tasting that full lip, putting his teeth where hers touched. Beside him her body trembled. “You have nothing to be afraid of, mademoiselle.” His voice was soft and throaty from the rapid rise of passion. “Come, we can talk first if you’d like. Don’t have to rush anything tonight.”

His hand was on her tiny waist, his thumb rubbing gentle circles. He was guiding her upward to her room, but he wasn’t sure where to go. She seemed to sense his hesitation then she looked at him with wide vividly unique blue eyes rimmed in violet. “Where are we going?” Then she paused again for what seemed an eternity as she looked around.

“To your room. You have been assigned a room, haven’t you? Or is it too soon?” He didn’t want to wait or go downstairs until something could be arranged.

“Oh!” She sounded surprised, her eyes widening with sudden comprehension. “My room, I thought. Second floor, first door on the right.”

“Good, now that was not so hard.” He felt a small chuckle rise from his belly as they turned down the hallway to stop at the first door. She is delightful. It swung open. He waited for her to walk inside before he closed and locked it behind them, leaving the key in the door. Clearly, she was nervous. He wanted her to relax.

She stood in front of him, her hands clasped tightly in front of her, wispy strands of nearly white, blond hair falling in soft very touchable curls around her face while the rest was piled intricately on top of her head. Her uniqueness stole his breath. Did she have any idea how beautiful she was?

“What do we do now?”

She looked to the floor then back to him, her blue-violet eyes shimmering with some emotion he craved to discover. For a moment, her hand fluttered upward and toward him before she drew it back.

“Take all our clothes off.”

He watched the expressions flit across her face then thought better of his statement. While that was his intention and hers to be sure before the night’s end, perhaps this was too soon. If she were the new girl, this would all be uncharted territory for her.

“Do we have too?” She looked up, startled wide eyes staring at him. “I mean…”

He kept his laughter behind his teeth. “Non, but it would be more fun as well as easier if we did.”

Now she looked down, plucking at her skirts and before he could say anything more, she touched his chest with her small hand. “If you say so.”

He placed his hand over hers, enjoying the pressure. Perhaps something else to speak of would be prudent at this time, “Do you have a name?” He spoke gently in a fervent attempt to ease the way for her.

“Do you?”

She sounded defensive. He wasn’t too sure why. He only asked for a name.

Perhaps she wasn’t as nervous as he thought. He would have to proceed with caution before he could see just what was going to transpire next. He bowed low, “Etienne Dubois at your service.”

Turning her head away for a moment then looking at him and with a few blinks of her eyes, “Elisa.”

“A pretty name for a pretty lady. Do you have a last name?”

“Just Elisa.”

Realizing she would give up only so much, he granted her the omission for now. In the scope of things her last name was hardly important. After tonight, he didn’t plan on seeing her again.

“Just Elisa, are you the new girl?” he asked, suddenly wondering just how new she was to all this.

If she was still a virgin, Madame Margaux would charge him double. He realized he didn’t care. All his previous notions coupled with his reservations about bedding a virgin vanished as he watched her small, pink tongue moisten her bottom lip. In that instant he was fully aroused.

She was shaking her head then, seeming to deny the fact but everything about her actions described a novice. “No, well, yes, I suppose I am new to all this. Don’t understand what is expected of me though. Never been with a…”

Once again, her moist tongue swept across her lips leaving them wet, enticing and very pink. She invited him to intimacy with such delicate gestures.

The knock at the door surprised him, momentarily averting his attention from Elisa. When he opened the door, a man was standing in front with a tray of food along with a bottle of wine.

“This is for you and your lady friend. Enjoy,” he said, handing the gift to him before backing away a step then holding out a parcel wrapped in tissue paper. “This is also for the lady so she is more comfortable this evening.”

“Thank you,” he said as he backed into the room turning to Elisa. Surprised, “Do you know what that was all about?” Etienne asked as he set the platter on the table before giving the package to her.

He returned to lock the door again. It was unusual for food to be served to the guests unless they paid for it in advance, also unusual for packages of any sort to be delivered to the prostitutes.

This time she was nodding her head in what seemed to be a continuous motion, “Madam always sends food and wine to my room when I stay the night. Since my remaining here is usually spontaneous, she sends me a peignoir to wear. Comfortable, yes.”

Those were puzzling words; ones to think about at a later date. Right now, he didn’t really care. The night was looking better with each passing second. He hadn’t eaten since breakfast that morning. He was hungry for food as well as the so very beguiling young woman standing before him. He didn’t plan on taking her strange words at face value.

“You must be special,” he said, studying her closely for some clue as to what was rattling around inside her head.

She shrugged her shoulders slightly, giving him a wobbly smile before she spoke.  She opened the gift, pulling out a dark blue negligée and robe. “I suppose I am.”

“The madam doesn’t do this for her other girls. Do you wish to change now or later?” Etienne wanted her to change now, wishing to see her in the silky confection.

“Later. I wouldn’t know,” she sighed softly stepping forward as she seemed to watch him from the corner of her eye. “I’m not really hungry, but you go ahead and eat. I’ll pour the wine.”

He rummaged around on the tray heaping two plates with food then accepted the wine from her shaking hand. Evidently, the arrival of food did not make her any less nervous.

She ate sparingly while he used the time to satisfy his belly before moving on to the second part of the evening, which would inevitably satisfy other parts of his needy body. He did have the entire night with her having paid for it beforehand while making sure the extra money he gave the attendant would go directly to her.

Now, Elisa peered at him over the rim of her glass. Seemed to be staring at his mouth. He adjusted his position in a feeble attempt to calm his eager man parts, the lust for this enchanting lady beginning to take over his body along with his mind. Well, hell, he never responded to a silent invitation such as she was sending so quickly or so intensely.

“Is there anything you’d like to tell me about yourself?” he asked pleasantly, hoping she wouldn’t turn into a chatterbox, but it would be nice if she said something, anything.

She lifted her tiny shoulders in a hesitant shrug. “Not really.”

That was what he thought. He set the plate down and with a pleasant voice, he asked, “Should we get to it then?”

“To what?” She moistened her lips before following suit, her eyes crossing. Setting the glass down, her gaze roamed the length of his to settle on his rapidly hardening crotch.

What the devil did she think she was doing? Those were the actions of a practiced courtesan.

Blood rushed to his groin. “I’m sure you know as to what I’m referring. Why don’t you change into that lovely confection that was sent up to you?”

He couldn’t help the slight tinge of frustration he was sure she heard. Being blunt was not his usual way, nor had he ever needed that aspect.

“I still don’t know what you expect. What I do understand is that you mean to have sex with me. Just not really sure what all that entails. Madame Margaux did tell me when the time…”

She stopped just when he was getting interested, a becoming rise of color to her cheeks following.

“When the time?” Lifting a dark eyebrow in speculation, he queried hoping to pursue this line of conversation more thoroughly, his mind spinning with too many fascinating scenarios to settle on one.

“It doesn’t matter.” She waved a hand in the air, some of the wine in her glass spilling out. “Oh, my…” She looked at him, growing even redder then set the glass on the stand taking a cloth and wiping away the red drops, her hands pushing against her breasts as she cleaned her gown.

He took her hands in his, “You don’t have to be nervous. I’m not going to hurt you. Never hurt a woman in my life.”

But he’d never had a virgin. He was becoming increasingly sure Elisa had never had sex before even though her previous statements confused him countering that very thought. He’d never seen anyone so skittish and unsure of herself before the sex act, one she’d agreed to.

What to do?

He certainly wasn’t going to walk away.

“I didn’t think you would.” She paused. “Hurt me. I’ve wanted this with you for so long.”

“Go, change into the negligée. We can proceed from there.” He inhaled long and hard. What the devil was she talking about? To his recollection he’d never seen this woman before.

“Fine.” She rose, striding into a dressing room. He heard a small curse. She was back, turning away from him. “I need help.”

He chuckled softly as he brushed the long silken curls that had fallen loose from her chignon away from the fasteners. Deftly he undid the dress then her corset. The gown as well as the other garment fell to the floor.

“I will be right back.”

He sat, waiting for her return, thinking on all that had been said between them, still puzzled. When she appeared in the room her hands clasped in front of her, his breath caught in the back of his throat. She looked so tiny and frightened. He needed to erase that look of fear from her eyes.

“What do we do now?”

“Perhaps a kiss would relax you. We can take this slow and easy, one small step at a time. After all, we have all night. Promise to tell me what you like and don’t like.”

“I’m sure I’ll like your kisses as much as your smile and the little dimple.” She touched the side of his mouth with a fingertip. “Right here.”

Etienne couldn’t help but groan. She was a provocative little minx and she didn’t even know it. He held her hand in his, the protruding finger now resting on his lips. Nibbling then sucking it into his mouth, he smiled anew at the surprised gasp of pleasure that followed.

“Did you like that?” His question in any other case would sound insincere but now and with the pleased expression on her face he was glad he took the time to ask.

She nodded several times before a veiled sigh escaped her soft pink lips, “Oh, yes. It makes me feel things in places I’ve never thought of before. There are butterflies flitting about in my stomach, lower too.”

“Good, I’m glad.” He slowly began removing the pins from her hair, watching as the silken tendrils fell around her shoulders, lightly touching her ear with a finger then his lips, the column of her neck then following with tiny little nips of her flesh. “Your hair,” he paused thinking and remembering another time very long ago, “is unusual. I’ve only seen its color one other time. I’m trying to remember.”

“Wh-where,” she stammered, her eyes wide an emotion he didn’t know how to interpret.

He brought one of the loosened pieces to his cheek, letting the softness caress him. “It is nothing.”

He remembered Angelique’s white-blond hair. That thought gave him a pause in his memories. There was another time. He searched his mind. It seemed the image would not resurface.

“No, tell me,” she whispered, reaching out a hand to rest on his chest before spreading her fingers wide. While she’d been changing into the negligée, he partially unbuttoned his shirt. Her fingers rested tantalizingly on bare skin.

“Then you tell me something about you?” he asked. “It seems only fair.”

“Alright then. You’re right of course. If you share then so should I.” She played with the lace around the neckline of the robe she wore, inadvertently lowering the bodice slightly to reveal more alabaster skin.

He wanted to take her hands in his, slow the nervousness but he didn’t think anything would help at this point. “I saw your hair color on a madam in Bordeaux. I believe her name was Angel. Now it’s your turn. While I’d like to learn your last name,” he wasn’t sure why he had a change of thought on this, “tell me anything you like, something you feel comfortable sharing.”

She stiffened seeming to think better of a reply that he knew almost blurted from her lips. For a few seconds she ran her tongue across them.

The silence seemed to echo in the room while she appeared to be thinking about what to tell him. “While I’ve never been in a room alone with a man, I’ve spent time in a brothel.”

Those words shocked him. By her actions, he would have never guessed such a thing would be true. Yet her innocent shyness delighted him. Deciding it was time to end the conversations, determined though to take them up later, he placed a gentle kiss on her neck then higher, taking her earlobe between his teeth and tugging gently, one hand cupping the back of her head. Tiny sounds rippled from her throat. At that moment he knew everything would work out.

Shivering beneath his touch, she turned in his arms then leaned into him, her back against his chest while he continued with lips teeth and tongue to trace the line of her neck and along her collarbone.

With a wistful sigh, “Do you do this often? You seem to know what you’re about?”

A low belly laugh rumbled from his throat. She turned toward him again, a puzzled expression on her face, lips slightly parted in question. “Probably more than I should. I’d like to know what you’re thinking but I’d rather kiss you so I can show you there is only pleasure to be had in what we are about to do here this evening. Do you trust me?”

“You told me earlier to take my clothes off but I don’t want to, not… Do you mind? Don’t believe I can make my fingers work to do something like that. Are you going to remove your clothes too? I’d like to see your chest. I saw it once a long time ago.” Her fingers rose before softly caressing his cheek. The wistful expression as well as the revealing words left him in a state of stunned shock. A long time ago, perhaps that was when he saw her.

If only he could remember.

He groaned at her simple words when they registered in his mind. Pursuing this line of conversation was not something he could do right now, not when she was softening under his tutelage, relaxing beneath each gentle kiss. He knew in minutes he would have her naked beneath him. He would be deep inside her velvet warmth.

Velvet fire.

Long enough to remove his shirt he stopped kissing her. He began again, her hands resting on his shoulders. They were soft, touching him. Her nails were well trimmed, not overly long. He tugged on her bottom lip then soothed it with his tongue, pressing inside and meeting the sultry warmth of hers while her hands rose to the back of his neck, tugging him closer. She tasted sweet, tasted of the wine from his family’s vineyard.

“I’m going to take your robe off now,” he said as he pulled away, his brows drawing tightly together.

“Do you have to?”

“We spoke of fairness earlier. If my shirt is off then…” He intentionally left the words unsaid and hoped she would fill in the blanks.

“… my robe should be off. Still, I can’t do it.” Her words were so quiet he had to lean forward to hear her. “My fingers…” she sighed as she held up her shaking hands for him to see.

“Not a problem.” He wanted to undress her slowly. The undoing of each tiny bow down the front was followed by a soft kiss along her collarbone. Tenderly he pushed the fabric from her shoulders. Again kisses, gentle kisses, nipping kisses followed the semi-unveiling of her white flesh.

Her soft sigh of pleasure gave him reason to grin, yet his patience was slowly coming to an end. When he entered the room with her, he’d thought to have her beneath him in a matter of minutes. At least an hour had already passed. Even now, this slow seduction was making progress. He guessed by the time he was inside her, she would be hot and exciting, wild and passionate.

She sat in front of him now, her thin negligée all that stood between their lovemaking. Her tight puckered nipples pushed beguiling against the silken fabric, enticing and tempting every part of him. He set her against the headboard before coming between her slightly parted legs.

He sat back, looking at her kiss-swollen lips loving the tangle he’d made of her hair. Her eyes were wide with what he hoped was desire coupled with passion, raw hunger that could make a man hard with the ecstasy. While he undressed her, she’d said very little. Now, her breaths drew in and out in short wisps of air. When he tenderly sipped at a pulse point, he felt the rapid beating of her heart. He had no doubts she would be ready for him.

“I’m going to remove the rest of your gown now.” He stopped staring at her, his gaze slowly raking the length of her, intrigued by the darkening of her eyes. “All but your stockings. Now, help me out and lean forward.”

She did as requested. He slowly undid the tiny bows at the top of each shoulder as he watched the silken fabric slide the length of her to pool around her hips. Her scent was lavender mixed with vanilla. Mon Dieu, a man could get used to this.

Her legs were spread for him, the dusky rose tips of her breasts responding to his gaze, tightening without even being touched. To his jaded heart she was a vision of desire and passion. He believed for the first time in his life she might want him, not just what he could give her.

That remained to be seen though.

He wanted to laugh. It was all she could do not to try to cover herself, but she didn’t know where to put her hands.

“What about you?” she asked.

“You thinking of what’s fair along with what is not?” He sat on his bed, pulling off his boots then stood. His wide grin seemed to give her a reason to return the sentiment. He found the fastening on his pants and slipped them off. He stood in front of her naked.

Her gasp of surprise coupled with the widening of her eyes startled him. “I never thought…”

“Thought what, sweetheart?” He was still grinning pleased with her innocence.

“Don’t laugh at me.”

“Never. Thought what?”

She caught her bottom lip beneath her teeth. Then she whispered, “That you would be so large.”

While he expected those words at her startled look, he had no idea what to say in response. In all his life, he’d never bedded someone who was so unknowing in the ways of the flesh. It was truly a shame. She was destined now to spend most of her life in a brothel. He was almost tempted to whisk her away from this place. He didn’t. As he well knew the madam would have his hide if he attempted such a foolish thing. This lady would prove to be a gold mine for Margaux. Either that or he would have to pay a small fortune for the privilege to make her his mistress.

Perhaps… Perhaps that is what he should do.

He came down on top of her, kissing and caressing every tender erotic spot he could find. He left no part of her untouched, reveling when her hips began to rise to meet him, her back arching imploring him for something more, twisting beneath him. Her breasts, the hard tips, her navel he left nothing unattended. Higher and hotter, he felt the same enchantment. Kisses, nibbling caressing, tasted the sweet essence that was Elisa.

“Etienne…” her softly uttered words touched his soul. “Please.”

He understood all too well what she was saying to him but she didn’t. Another moment of remorse or hesitancy snaked through him. He’d never been a man to wallow in remorse or guilt. Someone would have her first. Why not him? She had not said non.

“Elisa,” he whispered, his voice hoarse with need.

She was an unknowing enchantress, white magic in a dark place. This exquisite joining that hadn’t even happened yet was bewitching. Sweat beaded on his forehead. A soft sheen of moisture covered her body. His lips seduced the satin hard tips of her breasts while his fingers found the swollen velvet knot of ecstasy that would bring her more gratification than she’d ever felt before. Sending her to a place of sweet satisfying delight was his only thought.

He didn’t know what to expect when he came inside her tight sheathe. Slipping a finger inside, he moved slowly. He touched her maidenhead. Sucked in a huge draught of air. Once more, he almost stopped, not wishing to cause her pain.

She’s a whore. It makes no difference that she has never done this before. Someone has to be her first. This is what her life will be from now on.

Truly, he didn’t know if he should take this slowly or just get it over with.

Well, hell.

With a long deep breath in his lungs, he pushed inside, drove into her then stopped at the constricting of her muscles linked to the small cry of pain. Her nails bit into his shoulder. She beat at him with her tiny fists, pushing at him even while he understood she wanted him to leave her be. He wasn’t going to do that.

Couldn’t.

Minutes ticked by so slowly he thought he’d rip the clock from the wall. For too many seconds to count, he held his breath, waited for her pain to subside. Held it until finally her nails biting into his shoulders relaxed. He found that her hips were rising to meet him once more.

“You said you wouldn’t hurt me,” she said accusingly, a lone tear slipping down her cheek.

“I didn’t think I would. Didn’t know you were a virgin when I said the words. This pain only happens once. Is that what Margaux was going to tell you my sweetheart?”

Slowly, he was moving, the velvet softness within, her fire compelling him, taking him deeper and deeper into her wet velvet core.

“Etienne…” the one word slid out slowly.

His name on her lips was heaven. “What?” He smiled at her as she reached out to him, gently touching the side of his face.

“Open your eyes. I’m going to make up for the pain inflicted. Going to help you forget everything but the honeyed joy.”

His lips closed over hers while his fingers danced evocatively in all the places that would give her the greatest pleasure.

“I love your half-smile and the dimple,” she murmured softly.

He pushed her words aside thrusting into her, needing release himself but waiting for her to feel the tremors sweep through her, the mindless blast of ecstasy that would last only seconds in the process changing her life forever. Finally, the spasms seemed to envelop her as she cried out his name, reaching for him as he drove deeper and harder into her. He didn’t stop until she began to calm and her body seemed to slow.

“Did that hurt?” he queried, hoping her answer would be what he needed to hear.

“No, but it was somewhere between pain and pleasure, something I’ve never thought could exist.”

He pulled her to him, caressed her back, letting his hand rest on her derrière, thinking the next time might be even more pleasant.

~ * ~

Pruitt Dubois sat in the lush apartment where Angelique Moreau resided in Bordeaux. The cold January temperatures had changed to warmer spring like weather. It was March. The daffodils were poking their heads from the grounds while the trees were blossoming with leaves and flowers. Angelique thought for a moment this was her favorite time of year.

“Etienne quit looking for Elisa?” he asked, one white eyebrow arching upward.

“When he couldn’t find her in Paris, he came here, but you already know that,” Angelique said, her voice soft with the pain she felt for her daughter.

Everything she tried so hard to avoid happened anyway. “It’s for the best. The way in which he lives now, he would not make a suitable husband for my daughter. In any case, I’m sure he does not wish to be a husband. It appears to me, he is much enamored of bachelorhood.”

“Is it for the best?” Pruitt waved his hand in the air in disagreement. “I have judged Etienne in the past but to imply he cannot change, does not sit well with me. He deserves to know the truth of the matter. It is not right to keep such an important secret from him. Something that could change his life forever.”

Angel knew that look well. She also understood how much Pruitt wanted his son home, hoping for a grandchild and an heir to his vineyard. This time when Etienne showed up here, Pruitt thought it was for good only to discover he left for Glasgow as soon as he understood Elisa was not planning on speaking with him.

“I believe so and so does my daughter. She is not ready to take on a husband of such experience. She is still very young. I believe she made a grave mistake by giving herself to Etienne as does she.”

Angelique did not want to hand Etienne the news, but he would discover the truth soon enough. What mattered is what he would do with the knowledge. In truth, she acknowledged begrudgingly he deserved the complete facts. Just before Pruitt stopped by three months ago, she received a message from Margaux, explaining what happened on that now infamous evening. Now, three months had passed by.

Elisa knew the truth.

Etienne did not.

“Why is that? There is something you are not telling me. I don’t believe Etienne has asked for her hand or for anyone else.” His voice grew harsh and agitated as he asked the question, his gaze riveted on her.

Angel squirmed a bit under his intense scrutiny. She didn’t know what to tell Etienne’s father. “We both hoped for something more between our children. However, it won’t happen anytime soon. He’s gone. She’s somewhere between Paris and here. When she comes out of the self-imposed hiding, I’m sure she will go to the country home. We both know how much Etienne detests the country and the tiny villages. Perhaps if Elisa had stayed in Paris, there would be hope for them.”

“There is something you aren’t telling me. Your eyes have never lied. What is it?” He leaned forward picking up her hand in his. Focused on her, Angelique did not want to meet his gaze but she understood she would have to do just that.

“True, but tonight is not the time. I need to speak with my daughter first.” She withdrew the hand then walking to the window, she stared out at the city, feeling guilt swamp her even while she gazed at the twinkling lights. “It is getting late. You will want to stay the night. I’m sure the ride home would not be wise in the dark. There are bandits, you know.”

“Perhaps with dinner I can discover what you have been keeping from me all this time. It is not too difficult to make assumptions. Secrets are hard to keep, Angel. You have never been good at hiding your thoughts from me. Never.”

“This secret is not mine to tell.” She wondered at her daughter and her actions. The note from Margaux said very little. She would need patience. Coming to conclusions now would just not do for either Elisa or herself.

Pruitt stood beside her now, a hand on her shoulder, gently massaging her tight muscles. “You need to relax, mon ange.”

His angel. She was really no one’s angel. Under the circumstances Angelique was afraid relaxing was impossible. It was just like her intrepid daughter to get herself into trouble of this sort, trouble with a man she’d wanted since she was six years old. Angelique was sure this was the first and only time Elisa had sex. There had been no men in her life. For some reason, she thought herself in love with a man she knew from a single encounter years ago. It was just like Etienne to take advantage of an innocent. She could tell herself that over and over again but the fact remained Elisa had been in a whorehouse. She presented herself to Etienne as a prostitute, never telling him who she was. Mon Dieu, what was he to think?

She turned, stepping back at the same time to put a meager amount of distance between them, a bit of anger rising inside at Pruitt’s words. “You know very well I’m not an angel.”

“Just because you were forced into this business by necessities you had no control over does not make you a fallen woman or change your basic nature. To me you are an angel. Look at yourself. You made the best of a horrible situation managing to thrive in the process.” Pruitt walked to the sideboard to pour himself a whiskey before sitting down. He crossed his legs, watching her. “You need to share whatever it is you are hiding from me as well as the rest of the world. Now I understand the world should not know, but I’ve been your friend when you’ve needed one. It will make all things better for you. Someone to share the burden with.”

“Perhaps you are right.” She let out a deep breath of air, treating herself to a glass before sitting down across from Pruitt. Second and third thoughts assailed her as the seconds passed slowly. She tried to form the words in her mind.

“Well?” His eyes brightened when she gave him hope that she would relate her secret.

She inhaled several breaths of air, listening to the clock along with the soft patter of spring rain on the window. Closing her eyes, she thought about holding a baby again, running a finger along its soft cheek. She would be a grandmother sooner than she expected. By that title, she shouldn’t have to change too many diapers, but she would. She waved a hand in front of her face as if she’d spoken the words.

Don’t get ahead of yourself and don’t surmise what might have happened after one encounter. It was, after all, only one encounter. I must have patience and wait for news or confirmation. Elisa still refuses to say anything. By the way Elisa acted, she was sure.

What to do? Did she truly believe she had the right to tell Pruitt the truth about his changing life? The facts were all that she could relate despite the feeling deep in her belly that her daughter was with child even as the soon to be doting grandparents discussed their children’s sex lives.

“Well?” he prompted again, seeming to begin to lose any semblance of patience. His grin changed to a frown.

Angelique smiled at him, understanding she would have to swear him to secrecy. He could not under any circumstances divulge a word of this to anyone, especially not Etienne until Elisa told him herself or until she left the telling of the truth so long it could not be avoided.

Once again, she was getting ahead of herself. She needed to speak with Elisa She prayed her daughter was on her way here and didn’t plan to remain in seclusion. Margaux had not spoken to that bit of information so perhaps she didn’t know. She wondered if Elisa even knew or thought she might be with child. It had only been a few months.

“You must swear that you will remain silent. Nothing I say here can leave this room.” She cleared her throat, knowing he would say the necessary words to gain her confidence. If anything, Pruitt Dubois was a man of his word.

“Very well. I swear that whatever you divulge here today will remain here and that I will not say a word to anyone.”

“Even Etienne?”

“Yes, even my son.”

Slowly, she sipped the whiskey she poured herself almost an hour ago, watching the leaves on the tree outside her window rustle with the breeze. His tapping fingers on the crystal brought her back to the present and the fact he was making another attempt at patience, something that didn’t suit him.

“I am only guessing. I have no proof. It is just a feeling in the pit of my stomach. September sometime, you will be a grand-pere.”

A rush of guilt swept inside at the revelation she should have avoided at all cost. This was not her story to tell.

When she looked up, however, it was amusing to her how his eyes began to light up as the words registered in his head. “I assume that night they spent at Margaux’s is the cause. It couldn’t be anyone else?”

“It was and before you ask, I’ve never been more positive even though it happened only a couple of months ago.”

She felt a flame of anger spark inside. How dare he question the morality of her daughter when his son… She swallowed hard. When his son tossed skirts at whim.

“You’re angry. I should have never even thought it, but I’m excited to finally know that another Dubois could be on the way as we speak.”

“You cannot say anything. Unless Etienne comes home and marries my daughter, the bebe will be a Moreau. Not a Dubois.”