The Bachelor's Cinderella: The Frenchman's Plain-Jane Project. Trish Wylie
Etienne chuckled. “Are there others?”
“For today, this is it. But it’s an unpredictable family and is subject to unexpected growth at any time. The local shelter contacts me now and then when they need help saving an animal and they think I can be of use.”
“And you once said that you wanted a child.”
Despite the fact that it was Etienne himself who had dropped this conversational nugget in, the room felt as if the temperature had changed. Etienne had been playing along with Lightning and rubbing her head as she purred and leaned against him shamelessly. Now he stopped, his fingers stilling.
“You told me that you were unlikely to get married. How do you plan to get one? A child, I mean.”
She looked directly into his eyes. “I don’t know yet. I needed to have a stable position before I tried adopting…or maybe I’ll go to a sperm bank.”
“So…there won’t be a father?”
“No. No father.”
Because men had not treated her well, he was sure. In the silence that followed her announcement, the slow burn of anger slid through Etienne.
He still hadn’t replied to her comment, and Meg picked up the small ginger colored cat that had wandered into the room, nuzzled it and began to pet the animal. “I’ll be a good mother,” she said, as if promising herself and him that. “I’ll care.”
“I have no doubt of that.”
“You don’t approve.”
“It’s not that at all. It isn’t my business to approve or disapprove. I just…You should have help.” Etienne studied her attention to the cat. He watched as her fingers threaded through the little cat’s fur and then as the third cat, a small ball of black fur, demanded his turn.
“I’ll manage,” she said. And she could just as easily have added, I always do. But she didn’t say those words.
“I suspect you’ll do better than manage,” he told her. He glanced at the cats. “Pride and Prejudice?” he asked as she put the little black cat down and soothingly spoke to the pair as they went on their way.
She shrugged. “It’s my favorite book.”
“I see. So, of course you’d name two cats after it just as you’d name a cat who never jumps and barely even blinks Lightning.”
“Of course. I have a unique naming system. It’s called the impulse system,” she said with a small smile, but when she had bent over to release the cat, her hair had snagged on her lips. Without thought, Etienne stepped forward and brushed it away. His fingertips touched her mouth.
His gaze settled there.
He touched her again and lowered his head.
Their lips had barely met, he’d hardly gotten a taste of her, when he heard an enquiring purr and looked down to see Lightning gazing at them like a mother standing guard over her daughter.
“You have a bodyguard.”
“No. She likes you.”
Etienne had some crazy urge to ask Meg if she liked him, too. He wanted to know how much she liked him.
And that was unacceptable. A man didn’t tell a woman he was leaving one day and the next day demand that she pledge her love and loyalty. Hadn’t he already destroyed one woman in a relationship where she did all the giving?
“Even if she likes me, I have the feeling that Lightning would protect you if she felt I was up to no good.”And kissing Meg couldn’t be good even if it felt right.
“Were you up to no good?” Meg asked suddenly.
He leaned in and stole one quick kiss. “Yes. I like kissing you too much. And…I want to do more than kiss you.You make me want more. So, I should thank Lightning for breaking in. And I should go before I do something we’ll both end up regretting. Besides, you need rest, and we have a lot to do tomorrow. Lessons,” he warned.
“What kind of lessons?”
“Meg lessons. Food and wine. Table settings. Just mundane stuff, in case you ever get asked to one of those boring business dinners. And you will.”
“That won’t be mundane for me. I don’t handle alcohol well at all.”
“Well, then, this should be fun.”
Then he was gone.
ETIENNE was not a happy man. It had nothing to do with the fact that during the previous day’s lessons he had discovered that Meg and wine were not a pair and that she tended to fall asleep after a single glass. There was something rather endearing about watching her struggle not to yawn and then finally succumb, her head falling softly forward and then jerking up as she attempted to keep herself awake.
Now that he knew her weakness, he could head off trouble easily. She could simply drink water and forget the wine. But drinking wine wasn’t the problem.
The problem was this matter of Meg and her family and her family-to-be, something that had been bothering him ever since the other day in her apartment. It was clear as anything that she was a nurturing woman. Just watching her interact with and talk about her cats, that was obvious. Just thinking about the fact that she had been so concerned about his welfare that she had insisted on taking him out for some playtime, or the fact that she had even agreed to come back to Fieldman’s, he knew that she was a woman who cared about the welfare of others.
But it was also obvious to him that she had had some pretty brutal parents if they hadn’t been able to see what a treasure that she was. And then there had been that complete imbecile Alan who had not recognized Meg for the talented gift of a woman she was. She’d spent too much time trying to please people who couldn’t be pleased, but…her cats weren’t judgmental. A good scratch behind the ears, a little food and shelter and a woman had a friend for life, one who wouldn’t turn on her.
And now she was planning on raising a baby alone.
That wasn’t right. Not that she didn’t have the talent or the ability or enough love to go around. It was just…she shouldn’t always have to be shouldering everything alone.
It burned him. And yet he could do nothing about it. He was, after all, no better than any of the others. He would spend time with her, accept her aid, enjoy her talent and her company and her warmhearted, friendly teasing ways. He had even several times broken his rule of maintaining his distance and she had ended up in his arms. He liked having her in his arms…too much. He wanted to have her in his bed…for hours. But that, all of it, was wrong, because in the end, he would leave her as everyone else had.
So why was he so angry at her parents and Alan? He had no right to be angry on her behalf if he was going to act no better than anyone else had. And maybe that was why he was so upset. Because he had no right. And he never would have.
The phone on his desk rang. When he picked it up, it was the receptionist, Dora, telling him that there was a woman to see him. A woman named Paula Avery. She said the name as if he should know who it was, and it did sound slightly familiar but not enough for him to figure out who the woman was.
And when Paula Avery walked into his office, he still didn’t have a clue. It was only after she began talking, her voice fast and nervous as she kept looking over her shoulder, that Etienne began to understand.
He held up both hands. “What you’re telling me is that you’ve worked here before.”
“Yes. Recently.”
“Who hired you?”
“Alan Fieldman did,” she said.
Etienne automatically frowned. He