Having the Frenchman's Baby

Luc’s striking coloring and looks made him a target for any woman with eyes to see. Rachel loved him so much she couldn’t help but feel a fierce pride to be the woman in his exclus

ive company.

No one would know she was dying inside for want of the one element needed to make theirs a true marriage.

Somehow she had to present a contented front that would fool Luc into believing everything was all right. But she didn’t know how long she could keep it up if he chose to sleep in separate bedrooms tonight.

Luc had just shrugged into his sport jacket when his cell phone rang, the caller ID indicating it was Yves.

By now the news that Luc was married to the pregnant woman he’d gone to see on the same day Paulette had been laid to rest would have reached the Brouets’ ears through Luc’s mother.

That kind of news would have stretched the limits of friendship with them.

Yves must have run into Jean-Marc or Giselle and knew Luc was back from the States, thus the reason for the call.

Since Rachel would be emerging from the bedroom any minute, Luc stepped out the front door to talk to him in private.

Once they were seen buying baby furniture in Ribeauville, word of their marriage would spread to the four corners of Alsace. In the days to come after a routine had been established, it was inevitable Rachel would run into certain people who would shun her out of loyalty to Paulette. Luc wouldn’t always be at her side to protect her.

He clicked on and said hello.

“Is it true you’re married to Rachel Valentine, and expecting a baby, and you didn’t tell me first?”

Luc bowed his head. “We just got back from New York last night.”

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve prayed for someone to come along and sweep you off your feet? Giles told me how valiant you were trying to fight your attraction to Rachel, but he said the coup de foudre hit you so hard, both of you went around in a daze that was fascinating to watch.”

Those words unlocked the vise holding Luc in its grip. Too much emotion made it difficult to talk for a minute.

“Camille and I want to meet her. How about bringing her over to the house for dinner tonight? I don’t think I can wait any longer. Giles says she’s a real beauty.”

“She is,” Luc whispered in a thick-toned voice as his wife stepped out on the porch wearing the white suit he loved. The heart-stopping memory of her sitting in the hotel dining room savoring the Tokay would stay with him all his days.

“Just a second and I’ll check with her.”

“Who is it?” she mouthed the words nervously.

The day Rachel no longer had to worry about being accepted couldn’t come soon enough for Luc. Yves’ phone call was a giant step in the right direction.

He cupped her neck and whispered into her ear. “Yves. He and Camille have invited us for a celebration dinner at their house this evening. Would you like to do that after we’re through shopping?”

When he sensed her hesitation he added, “He called us, not the other way around. It means he’s happy for us and wants the four of us to start doing things together. No man ever had a better friend.”

He felt the fortifying breath she took. “Under the circumstances, he must be exceptional.”

“He is.”

“Of course I want to go if you do.”

He kissed her soft cheek, then spoke into the phone again.

“We’d love to come, Yves. What time?”

“Camille says any time after six.”

“We’ll be there. Merci, mon ami.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN