Kiss And Dwell (29 page)

Cajun eye-candy, most women would say, but because of his determination to take
away the home they loved, all the
Vicknairs
, particularly Nan, saw the guy as a
different kind of candy altogether. Slimy and sour. Nan had admitted to Monique
that she
’
d had one hot and heated dream where a naked and glorious Charles
Roussel
was the star attraction. It had enraged her that the guy could infuriate
her thoroughly during the day and still somehow finagle his way into her bed via
her dreams at night. Not that Nan would ever tell him; she
’
d only mentioned it
to Monique once after a few margaritas. Monique suspected that the real reason
Roussel
got under Nan
’
s skin so much wasn
’
t just because of the house, but
because she was, like it or not, attracted to the weasel.

“
What now,
Roussel
?
”
Nan asked, refusing to address him by his title. He might
have won the nod from voters, but damned if he ever got one modicum of respect
from Nan for the victory. Monique was extremely proud of her oldest cousin for
standing her ground. She sure was standing it now, her black hair waving in the
breeze, high cheek bones made more prominent by her clenched jaw, eyes
glittering in a color Monique would classify as
why-don
’
t-you-crawl-back-under-your-rock green.

Tristan, who could have easily intervened and taken over the
Vicknair
end of
this conversation, given he was the oldest male
Vicknair
around, merely smirked
and let Nanette wage this particular battle. It was only right, since she
’
d
worked so hard the past few months to keep the feud going.

“
Why, it
’
s fairly self-explanatory,
”
Roussel
said, leaning toward Nanette as
though he were scanning the paper, when in fact, Monique suspected he wanted to
be closer to Nanette
’
s impressive chest.
“
Based on this study by the National
Home-builder
’
s Association, they
’
ve recommended demolition for properties that
stood more than six feet in floodwater after the hurricane. You see, that wasn
’
t
clean water that we
’
re talking about, it was contaminated. Overflow from the
levees, swamps, all those kind of things that had God-knows-what growing in
it—that was what was in your house, and that
’
s the reason it
’
s going to have to
come down. Safer for the community, you know. I
’
ve spoken with the city
commission about it.
”

Nan was so enraged that Monique was surprised steam didn
’
t literally sizzle from
her pores.
“
You know what,
Roussel
?
”
she said, bringing her face merely inches
from his.

“
What
’
s that, Ms.
Vicknair
?
”
he asked, his voice as smooth as silk, as though he
were thoroughly enjoying this little game.

“
I
’
m afraid we never got around to measuring the floodwater on the first floor,
but I
’
m certain it never got near the six-foot mark. Since I didn
’
t measure it,
there
’
s no way to prove whether it did or it didn
’
t. There are no marks on the
wall. And we currently have the so-called contaminated area closed off from the
rest of the house until we get it properly cleaned, which we will do soon. Very
soon. I
’
m afraid, Mr.
Roussel
, that you don
’
t have a case for your city
commission.
”

Roussel
’
s
smile faltered ever so slightly, Monique noticed. Chalk one up for
Nan. Then he cleared his throat and regrouped.
“
You realize, Nanette.
”
He opted
for her first name this time.
“
Fixing that roof will be very costly. Those are
slate tiles you
’
ve got there, not exactly the cheapest thing on the block. And
if you
’
re looking at restoration, you
’
ll want authenticity. That
’
s a priority to
the society. Hell, there
’
s barely a handful of them here,
”
he said, waving at
the miniscule piles they
’
d manage to salvage from previous storms. What are you
going to do about the rest of those spots? And what are you going to do when the
winds hit tonight? That tarp worked for you last time, but I dare say it won
’
t
cut the mustard tonight.
”

“
And I suppose you have a remedy for our little problem?
”
Nanette questioned
.

“
What might that be,
Roussel
? Because I know you didn
’
t come here out of
neighborly hospitality.
”

His grin came back in full, blinding force.
“
As it happens, my brother is
perfectly willing to buy this place today, regardless of the damage that may
ensue with tonight
’
s terrible storm.
”

“
Didn
’
t know it was going to be terrible,
”
Tristan said.
“
You know something we
don
’
t?
”

“
It
’
s going to be windy, more windy than last week
’
s,
”
Roussel
answered,
glancing at Tristan as he spoke.
“
And Johnny says he
’
ll buy the place as an
addition to his property, since they
’
re side-by-side and all. He
’
ll pay for the
demolition, and give you fair market value, based on the property
’
s current
condition, of course.
”

“
Mighty nice of him,
”
Tristan said.
“
We should go over and thank him for
offering to give us fair market value, when every one of us knows the place will
be worth a small fortune when it
’
s fully restored.
”

“
But it isn
’
t fully restored, is it?
”
Roussel
questioned, his tone brittle and
sharp.

“
Not yet,
”
Nan said,
“
But we
’
re working on it. And we aren
’
t interested in
selling to your brother, or anyone else.
”

“
Hell, it doesn
’
t even have a roof for tonight
’
s storm,
”
Roussel
spat, turning
on his heel and stomping toward his Mercedes.
“
Just wait until tomorrow. After
the rest of that roof is ripped to bits, you
’
ll beg us to take it off your
hands, and the price won
’
t be nearly so pleasing then.
”
He paused beside his
open car door and looked at the house. Monique saw it then, the admiration for
the big, bold mansion, and the undeniable lust in his eyes. He wanted the
plantation, not to demolish, but for his own residence. Monique knew it as sure
as she knew that Nan, and the rest of them, would never let him have it.

Huffing out a breath, he called,
“
I
’
ll be hearing from you tomorrow, Ms
.

Vicknair
.
”
But before he had a chance to enter his car, a gigantic hot-pink
truck roared up the driveway. A big cloud of dust filled its wake, and the
driver had no quandaries at all about bringing the massive pink beast within
inches of
Roussel
’
s
prized Mercedes.

Monique shielded her eyes and waited for the dust to clear, then laughed when
she saw the four individuals in the vehicle. Gage had struck again, and Charles
Roussel
wasn
’
t going to like it. Monique, and from the grins on their faces, the
remaining
Vicknairs
, could hardly wait.

“
What the hell?
”
Roussel
coughed as the thick gray cloud coated his previously
shiny car with good ol
’
Louisiana grit and grime.

“
It
’
s a truck,
”
the sexy female who
’
d just jumped from behind the wheel informed
him. She tossed her long strawberry mane behind her and thrust her big bosom in
front of her as she waited for introductions. A brunette and a blonde, dressed
identically to the driver in tight white T-shirts, hot-pink short-shorts, and
tan work boots exited the passenger
’
s side followed by Gage. His devilish smile
claimed his gorgeous face, and the twinkle in his eyes showed he was more than
ready to face Charles
Roussel
.

“
President
Roussel
,
”
he said, tipping his head in greeting.
“
What brings you out
here so early? I figured you as the sleeping-in type.
”

“
I came to talk to your cousin,
”
Charles said, still a bit off-kilter from the
pink truck practically kissing his bumper.

“
You don
’
t say. What about?
”
Gage asked, leaning against the pink monster, while
the three females, apparently finding nothing at all interesting in the Parish
President, moved to the back of the truck and began to unload bundles
.

“
Tristan,
”
Gage said,
“
why don
’
t you help them with our supplies while I visit
with Mr.
Roussel
here?
”

“
Sure thing,
”
Tristan said, chuckling.

“
What you got there?
”
Roussel
asked, evidently realizing what the girls were
unloading.

“
That?
”
Gage asked, then shrugged.
“
Why, that
’
s the best roofing team this side
of the Mississippi. Triple D Roofing,
”
he said, winking at Monique then acting
as though he didn
’
t hear her giggle.
“
Deidre, Dominique and
Dani
.
”

“
I didn
’
t mean who are they? I meant what
’
re those packages they
’
re unloading?
”

Roussel
asked, exasperated.

Gage nodded as though he were a teacher impressed that the Parish President had
asked a good question. This time, Nan did the poor job stifling a laugh.

“
Well, those
‘
packages
’
as you called them, are actually the exact same kind of
synthetic-slate roof shingles that were used on This Old House last week. You
ever watch that show? Man, I love it.
”

The blond roofer hauled a big bundle off the truck and tossed it at Tristan. He
caught it with an appreciative grin.
“
Nice biceps,
”
he said, passing the small
group gathered around
Roussel
’
s
car and carrying the stack of tiles to the side
of the house.

Gage
’
s grin grew a little broader.
“
See, those slate shingles are made of
recycled rubber and plastic, but they come as individual tiles. I learned about
them on the show. They
’
re eighteen inches long and twelve inches wide and have
been dyed to match the antique roof slates.
”

“
So they aren
’
t real. They won
’
t add to the authenticity of the house, if you
’
re
applying for historical status,
”
Roussel
quickly pointed out.

“
You see, I called and asked the director of your Historical Society that very
question. Seems since the older slate doesn
’
t hold up in hurricanes and this new
stuff does, the society is quite willing to accept them as restoration for the
originals.
”
This time, Gage made a big production of shrugging.
“
Go figure. Hey,
maybe if you attended more of the society
’
s meetings, you would
’
ve known.
”