Having the Frenchman's Baby

“That’s not possible,” she challenged. “It’s the same Tokay from the bottle you were holding when we met in the hotel.”

He opened his eyes and put his empty glass on the counter. To her astonishment he clasped her upper arms.

“I’m never wrong. Let me show you,” he whispered in a husky tone. Pulling her close, he covered her wine-glossed lips with his mouth and slowly coaxed them apart as he sought deeper access.

Once again she was overcome by sensations that made her light-headed. She let out a soft gasp of pleasure and wrapped her arms around his neck, the way she’d wanted to do in the pool.

Through the thin material of her dress, he couldn’t help but feel her heart cannonading his. It rivaled the thunder that had resounded earlier in the electrified atmosphere.

When he finally lifted his mouth, she groaned.

“Have you discovered it yet?”

“What?” she whispered almost incoherently because he was kissing the throbbing pulse at her throat. “The only thing new I can taste is nutmeg.”

His hands roamed over her back, molding her slender curves to his body. “That, and the taste of you,” he said on a shallow breath. “There’s no recipe for this kind of ambrosia.”

Once more he found her mouth in a feverish kiss that went on and on until she lost all sense of time and place. She was on fire for him, matching his desire with her own overpowering need.

She’d had no idea she was capable of this kind of response. But then she’d never been in love before,

“I want you, Rachel,” he murmured against her neck. “I want you so much, I’m in agony.”

A groan escaped her throat. “I want you, too.”

“Do you have any idea how hard it has been to keep my hands off you before now?”

“Yes, because I’ve suffered the same pain since the first night we met. It’s been growing until I haven’t been able to think about anything else. Don’t ever stop loving me like this, Luc.”

“You do know where this is leading.”

Right now his hands and mouth were doing the most incredible things to her.

“Yes,” she murmured against his lips.

He sucked in his breath. “Something tells me you’ve never been intimate with a man before. Am I wrong?

“I don’t mean this stand-up kind of frenzied kissing.

“I’m talking about the real kind of loving that’s a total, unhurried sharing.”

Just hearing him say those words caused her legs to go weak. “You’re not wrong, Luc. There’s never been another man I could be intimate with because—because no man has ever lived up to my ideal except you.”

“Is that the truth?” His voice throbbed.

Her eyes blazed into his. “I know I’m an oddity, but I would never lie about something this crucial to my happiness.”

He crushed her against him. “Then you don’t know what you’re asking.”

Her heart died a little. “Is my inexperience that distasteful to you?” she cried.

His head reared back. “How could you ask me such a question when you can see I’m totally out of control where you’re concerned?”

“Then I don’t understand. But it doesn’t matter because it’s obvious you’re haunted by something you’re not telling me.”

She tore away from his grasp and ran from the kitchen. But she only made it as far as the hallway when she felt arms of steel pull her back against his chest.

“Don’t you know I only said that because I’m afraid you’ll have regrets?”