Heirs Book Two: American Lady (19 page)

“Okay, let’s start with number one,” he
teased.

“That’s easy – Arsène Sanci. He was a very
young attaché at the American Embassy in Paris. I fell madly in
love when I was just sixteen. He was twenty-two and I thought he
was a worldly man about town. I don’t think he even knew I existed.
Now, your turn,” she leant over to kiss him, her breasts brushing
across his chest. He couldn’t resist reaching out and squeezing the
slippery handful, gently palming her nipple until it hardened
suggestively. She playfully slapped his hand away. “Don’t try to
distract me.” She placed her hands under her head. Was she
deliberately jutting out her breasts to taunt him? Maixent checked
to ensure the crewman on duty was standing far enough away not to
ogle her.

“My first sexual encounter was with Margaux.
I forget her last name. She was one of my mother’s maids. I was
also sixteen and she being all of nineteen I think it’s fair to say
she seduced me. But I wasn’t complaining. In fact, I’m not sure
whether or not my father put her up to it,” he said reflectively.
“I had quite a crush on her for some time before she moved onto
other employment. But my first real girlfriend was Sylvie
Beauchesne, the twin sister of Simon Beauchesne, the Formula One
racing driver. I was home on summer vacation from Princeton and met
her after the Italian Grand Prix.”

“Wait – how old were you then?” Charley
interrupted.

“I was already twenty before I fell in love
for the first time,” Maixent admitted.

“But what happened inbetween sixteen and
twenty? Are you telling me for four years you were celibate?”
Charley asked incredulously.

“Oh no, but Sylvie was my first love. She
had a very suitable background and was a virgin to boot. I almost
brought her home to the palace and introduced her to my parents,”
he sighed dramatically. “Unfortunately I had to go back to
Princeton and fell out of love before I could introduce her to my
family. And the next time I fell in love she was even more
suitable.” He threw her a sly look, noting Charley’s cross
expression turning into a beaming smile as he continued, “my very
own Charmagne Olivia Cassidy.”

Unable to keep the silly grins off their
faces they smooched contentedly, basking in the Riviera warmth
until the clouds closed in again.

Shivering, Charley sat up and pulled on a
robe.

“Anyway if you could write up a list I will
give it to Verhave to check out. Is there anyone in particular I
should know about?” Maixent asked a touch diffidently.

“No one serious until I moved in with Dan
Tonkin. I thought moving in would cure him of his commitmentphobia
but I was wrong,” Charley said ruefully.

“Just as well for me.” Maixent put his arms
around her protectively. “How sad if I’d met you when you were Mrs
Tonkin. No regrets?”

“About Dan?” Charley gave an incredulous
laugh. “The only thing I regret is wasting three years with that
pretentious poser!” She gave a shudder before leaning in to give
Maix a long, deep kiss. “There is one thing we will need to sort
out though.”

Maix felt his heart plummet with alarm.
Charley’s face looked intensely serious. Hell, he felt like he’d
just bombed the slalom slope, hitting every single gate. Surely,
Charley wasn’t going to post more obstacles in their way?

“I can’t leave my dog Oscar at mom’s. She’ll
get our housekeeper Poppy to pluck him like a chicken and Oscar
won’t like living without his fur in our New York winter.” She gave
an impish smile and in relief Maixent felt like throttling her.

“So now it comes down to a choice of me or
the dog?”

“Well, actually I’m hoping to have both you
and the dog in my life. Kind of greedy I know. But I’ve brought
Oscar up since he was six weeks old. I’m the only reliable parent
he has. How do you feel about adoption?”

“Aurie and I have never been allowed to have
a pet in the palace, so a dog would be a novelty. In fact, it may
be a blessing because,” Maixent broke into an infectious grin. “I
can see my mother bonding with yours over dog hair on the
furniture. So there may be some rules enforced for his
co-habitation.”

Charley returned the grin. “Well at least
the weather in Altobello is milder so Oscar might not mind living
without his fur. And you really don’t mind?” she asked shyly.

“In the scheme of things I hazard a guess
that a dog is the least of our worries,” he assured her, softly
stroking her cheek.

She leant into the caress, rubbing against
his fingers. “I just can’t wait until the formalities are out of
the way and we can finally announce our engagement. I’m so tired of
having to hide and deny and use Thiérry as a smokescreen. He must
certainly be tired of pretending to neck with me whenever we get
caught out by the paparazzi,” she grumbled.

“I’m sure it’s no hardship for him, but it
certainly is for me.” Maixent’s arms tightened around her
possessively.

“And I’m not sure the paparazzi will buy
your celibacy story for much longer, either, considering your
reputation as the most eligible bachelor in Europe,” Charley sniped
jealously.

“I don’t see why we can’t be seen to date,”
Maixent declared. “We’re both free agents so what can the paparazzi
do except speculate?”

“Listen, I have a great idea!” Charley
clapped her hands. “After Sir Roddy’s film screening tonight we’re
all going on to dinner at La Palme d’Or. Why don’t you casually
drop by the restaurant and invite mom and Lorenzo to the palace
after the Festival? Cannes is less than an hour from Altobello so
we’ll never have a better opportunity. I’m sure once mom spends
some quality time with you she’ll fall just as much in love as I
did.” Charley wrapped her arms around Maixent, gently nibbling his
ear.

Maixent’s brow furrowed as he juggled the
logistics of a spontaneous stopover by the Cassidy-De Angelis clan
amidst the arrival of his sister and uncle and aunt from Paris for
their annual descent upon Altobello. He would have to call Anouk to
see which of his official appointments she could cancel.

“I promise to do everything in my power to
charm your mother. That’s how much I love you.” His hands slid down
her back under the robe she’d loosely draped around her shoulders,
his fingers inching under the elastic of her bikini bottoms. He
ached to take her down to the cabin again.

“Then I can finally let my friends know
about you. Janie will demand an exclusive interview for
Lustrous
magazine, right after she tears strips off me with
her tongue lashing. Now, when exactly should we announce our
engagement?” she murmured, seductively circling her hips between
his hands.

“I was thinking that the Rouge et Rose Ball
following the Carnivale of the Recortadores in September would be
the perfect occasion. The formalities should be settled by then and
it also gives a bit of a breathing space between your mother’s
engagement celebration in July.”

He nuzzled her neck while his palms
continued sensually kneading her buttocks. He was gripped by desire
for every inch of her deliciously feminine body and pressed her
firmly against him. But even more than wanting to go to bed with
her, he wanted to wake up with her and share his days with her.
Every instinct he had demanded that he claim her immediately as his
bride. To hell with the formalities!

Lifting his head to drink in her lushly
kissable mouth his heart suffused with love. “Come downstairs to
the cabin,” he mumbled against her lips. “I wasn’t going to do this
until much later, but I don’t want to wait.”

Grabbing a startled Charley by the hand he
hurried her along the deck and below to his cabin. This was a
massive suite with wood paneled and rose papered walls and a
mirror-recessed ceiling over the huge disheveled four poster
bed.

“Close your eyes,” he ordered, placing her
hands over her closed lids.

“Are we going to have kinky sex now?” she
asked breathily.

“No, for that I’ll be tying you up,” he
laughed and couldn’t resist dropping a kiss on her forehead. He
rummaged through his luggage. Once more he’d broken protocol for
her. Henri would be more than ever convinced that his son wasn’t
responsible enough to take the reins if he found out what Maixent
had secreted out of the palace.

Kissing her lingeringly, he removed her
hands and placed a velvet jewelry box in her palm. Opening it
warily, she gazed at an enormous emerald set in delicate gold
filigree which, upon close inspection, turned out to be entwined
hearts and flowers holding the massive rose-cut stone in place.

“You must have raided the crown jewels!” she
gasped.

She didn’t know how right she was! Maixent
eased the ring out of the padding and placed it on her finger. The
band was large enough that it slipped around like a hula hoop.

“It’s so beautiful. I’ve never seen anything
like it.” She held her fingers up to the light.

“If you don’t like it I can have it
modernized for you,” he said anxiously. “It dates from the
sixteenth century which is why the setting is so complicated
instead of just claws to hold the stone,” he explained. “My
ancestor Philippe the First gave it to his betrothed Maddelena di
Zorzi of Tuscany. She was nearly twenty when they became betrothed.
Then war broke out between their nations and Maddelena’s father
broke off the engagement and married her to one of his supporters
who later took her away to live with him in Rome.”

“That’s sad. Did she give the ring back? Is
that why your family still has it?”

Maixent shook his head. “No, the story is
more complicated than that. Philippe was heartbroken but never
stopped loving her. He refused to take another wife. Maddelena bore
three children to her husband, who was then killed in the great
sack of Rome in 1527. Even though that was nearly thirteen years
after their engagement, Philippe heard of the tragedy and sent
couriers to find Maddelena.

“They brought her to Altobello and Philippe
found her older but no less beautiful in his eyes than when he had
first met her. So they finally wed. He brought up her three
daughters as part of his family. He continued to adore her. They
had four more children together.” He took Charley’s hands in his
and kissed the palms. “I’ll have the ring resized for you so it
fits for our engagement. Are you sure you like it? Some people
think emeralds are bad luck.”

“Oh no, it reminds me of the first green
leaves on Grandpa’s beech trees in spring time. Besides it’s the
symbol of a great love story.” She was choking back tears of
happiness. “This makes everything seem real. I’m not dreaming, I’m
really going to marry you.” She launched herself into his arms,
kissing his face feverishly.

“This one is forever,” he agreed, holding
her close, breathing in her fragrance of mixed sweat and suntan
lotion. “No doubts?”

She shook her head so forcefully her
ponytail came loose and her dark hair swung around her head in a
fluffy cloud. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened in my
life. I don’t care how much formality or how many technicalities
they throw at us, I’m here for keeps,” she insisted. “Nothing and
no one will ever tear us apart.”

His hunger for her flared deep in his belly.
“Now, what were you saying about kinky sex?”

On the strength of Sir Roddy’s current Festival
offering, they were able to secure a reservation for dinner at La
Palme d’Or on the Boulevard de la Croisette. Lorenzo had prevailed
over Jennifa to allow Oakley to have leave from her boarding school
to attend the screening.

The rain had eased so the group decided to
walk the few hundred yards between hotels. Oakley stomped along in
her ubiquitous Doc Martens, Bodymap cropped sweater and tartan
frilled mini. Beside her, Jennifa, Nikki, Charley and Jazz tottered
along the street in their high heels, holding their dresses up out
of the puddles, while the men complained ferociously that they
would be dead of starvation before they reached the restaurant due
to their slow progress.

The restaurant was filled with excited
conversations in all languages, but predominantly French and
English. Jazz, wearing her new black taffeta evening gown and with
her burnished red bob coiffed by René from the Fauberg St Germain,
finally felt as glamorous as the other women around her. She
sniffed the enticing aromas ecstatically, peering through the palm
fronds into the warmly toned brown and burgundy art deco
furnishings of the interior.

“There are more fashion plates sitting on
chairs than eating,” Sir Roddy cackled delightedly. His film,
Followed by Danger,
had been received enthusiastically at
its screening that evening and Jennifa, as the leading lady, had
been given a loud round of applause. Dressed in a low-cut slinky
bronze and pale pink lamé gown with her freshly blonded hair
sweeping over her shoulders she looked every inch the star and made
it apparent that she deserved to outshine the other women in her
group.

Linking his arms between his daughter and
granddaughter, Sir Roddy, debonair in his white tails, led the
group through to the Terrace where their waiter ushered them to
seats. Jazz, following with St John, couldn’t help ogling the
swaths of satin, silk, fur, feathers and colored leather that
draped the celebrity diners. Lorenzo, Charley and Nikki, dressed in
the new aqua chiffon gown that Lorenzo had purchased, brought up
the rear.

Despite the somewhat cozy bumping of elbows,
everyone was soon settled at the table, perusing their menus.

“Do they have a specialty?” Nervously Jazz,
unable to decipher the menu, turned to St John.

“All their food is exquisite,” Lorenzo
answered, overhearing her question.

“How about salade de pigeonneau? Or
cuisses de grenouilles
?” St John suggested
with a wicked glint.