9. Iris
9
IRIS
T he second Estelle went into the house, Luc turned to me, a deep scowl on his forehead. “Are you trying to get us discovered? Your stories were completely ludicrous. A miniature pony? Alpacas? Gondolas?”
Irritation rumbled in my gut. I’d been told I was a decent actress, and so far, his grandmother had swallowed my outlandish tales. I motioned for a hovering staff member to fill up my glass. Why not make the most of my temporary position in the family? “Look. I followed your brief. I pretended to be rich and engaged to you. That’s all you asked.”
He puffed out his cheeks. “I didn’t ask you to enjoy it so much.”
“Well, I think she quite likes me.”
He tutted, scowling. “God help us all.”
I opened my mouth to give Luc a piece of my mind when Estelle re-entered the terrace, her completely over the top gown rustling around her.
“Ah, thank goodness you’re both still here. I wondered if you’d snuck off for a little alone time.” She gathered up her gloves from the table. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to turn in. I’m exhausted. It’s been a long and interesting day.”
She wasn’t the only one.
Well and truly on the wrong side of an adrenaline rush, bone weariness had set in. Then there was my party-pooping groom-to-be. He really needed to lighten up. If he’d happily lie to his family, then he may as well do it in style. My mind wandered to the promise of clean, crisp sheets and a solid mattress, and a wave of tiredness engulfed me. I stood, stepping away from the table. “I think I’ll go to bed too. It’s been an enlightening day for us all.” I sent Luc what I hoped was a scathing glance, and, after checking the scrunchie on my dress wasn’t about to ping off and hit someone in the eye, I gathered my skirt.
Estelle sucked on her lips. “Aren’t you going to accompany your bride-to-be?”
Luc looked as if someone had stabbed him with a fork. “I… um …I…” After the longest beat he murmured a simple, “Oui.” Honestly. He looked as if she’d asked him for a kidney.
“Then we’ll all go,” said Estelle, waiting for Luc to stand.
Once he’d made it to his feet–and I’d seen snails move faster–Estelle trailed the two of us. We left the terrace and stepped inside the cool air of the chateau. As we made our way through the faded, golden glory of the salon, the skin at the back of my neck tingled. I had absolutely no idea where we were headed. I’d only seen the entrance hall, the kitchen, the catacomb of corridors under the house, and this very grand room. I didn’t know what lay beyond the doors that we approached. I had no clue where I would sleep or where my bag had gone.
I hung back a little, but when Luc stopped to let me go first, I lunged for his hand. The last thing I wanted was to be left standing on the other side of the doorway like a tourist without a guide map. I widened my eyes, hoping he’d understand my reluctance to leave. After a few seconds, he gave a nod and pulled me into a darker hallway.
My sandals clacked against the black-and-white tiles and the only light came from a small, solitary chandelier hanging overhead. Two large wooden doors faced each other on either side of the hallway. Luc stopped, and I came to a standstill, almost knocking into him.
Estelle cleared her throat. Was she still with us? I glanced over my shoulder to see her standing in the shadows, watching. She wore a tiny smile, and one of her eyebrows peaked. Did she want a bedtime story? After hearing about Luc’s falsetto, perhaps she wanted a lullaby.
Luc turned towards me, taking my hand and brushing his lips against my cheek. “Good night, mon amour.”
His grandmother tutted. “You’re sleeping in separate rooms?”
Luc’s eyes tightened for a fraction of a second before he turned to his grandmother. His jaw pulsed.
I stepped forward. “My family is traditional and I’m a firm believer in chastity before marriage. I’m saving myself for our wedding night.”
Estelle assessed me cooly, tapping her foot, her gaze bouncing between her grandson and me. What exactly was she waiting for? Lie detector test results? But at that moment, I realised exactly what she was after. She wanted Luc and me to kiss each other goodnight. Say a fond farewell until we could resume our fawning over each other in the morning. Just like a normal couple.
I pulled in a breath. Forget proof of life. Estelle wanted proof of love. I wasn’t sure I could deliver an Oscar-worthy performance. Not while wearing curtains and a scrunchie. It would hardly do for Scarlet O’Hara.
Luc sighed and turned to face me. “Goodnight, mon amour,” he said again, his voice a little lower this time. He took my hand and leaned in gently, bringing his mouth to mine. It was a sweet kiss, but as his lips lingered against mine, I let out a gentle breath. Luc pulled away a fraction, but our mouths hovered just millimetres apart.
“Goodnight, children.” Estelle chuckled behind us. “I’ll leave you to play.”
A swish of tulle and footsteps confirmed that Luc’s grandmother had gone to bed.
I looked into his eyes.The light from the chandelier cast little rainbow dots onto his face, like little fairyland freckles. Just like Edward Cullen in “Twilight,” lying out in the sun. He looked so beautiful.
As he stared down at me, something in his eyes darkened. It was as if someone had pulled a hood over them—a veil of pure “smoulder,” like Chloe described. My heart thudded out a galloping rhythm as I ran my gaze over my fake fiancé. He hadn’t moved his lips. Hadn’t stepped away. Instead, his eyes sizzled, and I swallowed. What if tonight were the most thrilling night of my life? What if this moment marked the peak of my life’s romantic endeavours? How often did the average dental nurse get the chance to kiss a billionaire?
A sudden rush of energy pulsed through my body. On a crazy whim, I brought my lips back to his. After a second, he closed his eyes and I don’t know what possessed me, but I shut mine too and opened my mouth the tiniest fraction. Three rapid heartbeats later, he did the same and his tongue was in my mouth, warm, gentle, and probing. Damn, he tasted good. With blood singing in my ears, I wound my hand under his jacket and around his back.
Finding solid muscle at my fingertips, I pulled him closer. The second I did, his breath came faster in my mouth and he closed a hand around the side of my face, tipping my jaw back. His tongue went deeper now, and I wobbled against him. I don’t know about knicker-melting abilities, but he definitely had a knack for making knees go weak.
I happily surrendered to the experience, meeting each stroke of his tongue with my own. My nipples brushed against his solid chest through my flimsy muslin and a tingle ignited low in my belly. I gave the tiniest sigh, the smallest moan and within a beat he pulled me closer, towards his chest, his mouth covering mine completely.
A clatter of falling cutlery somewhere behind us broke our spell and Luc froze.
“Merde,” he whispered against my mouth, before tensing and dropping me like the proverbial hot brick.
I pulled my hand from under his jacket and touched where his hand had just rested on my cheek, trying to lock in his heat. I stepped back, pulling in tight breaths.
Reluctantly, I looked at Luc, dragging my eyes to his face, terrified of what I’d find there. I hadn’t meant to kiss him. Making out with a billionaire playboy in front of his grandmother hadn’t been on tonight's original agenda.
As our gazes met, though, his cheeks bloomed pink, and he turned away, pulling his jacket tightly around him. All the heat and crazy sexiness from moments ago had left his body. He couldn’t even look me in the eye. Instead, he stood, half turned, shifting from foot to foot on the tiles.
“I had Agnes put your bag in this room.” He pointed to the nearest door.
I moved towards him, my hand ready to grab his jacket. Pull him back. To speak to him. Apologise. To make sure I hadn’t ruined our deal with my uninvited kissing. To ask if he’d still give me the money I needed to liberate Stuart. But he turned away, standing in the chandelier's light.
“Thank you. For tonight.”
I nodded, not that he could see me. “Of course, but…”
“Goodnight, Iris,” he said. And with those words, Luc walked to the door on the other side of the hallway and stepped inside, closing the thick wood behind him with a solid clunk.
I drew my eyebrows together, a tight burn spreading across my chest. Did my fake fiancé hate me? Nobody had ever described me as the best kisser, or as particularly good in bed, but he’d left the scene of my crime faster than a remorseful one-night stand. He hadn’t even given me a chance to apologise. What if he didn’t pay me? I’d never get Stuart back.
I stood in the half light of the hallway. Apart from the hammering of my heart, the house was quiet. Only the occasional clinking of glass or the scrape of metal against porcelain hinted that the staff were still hard at work. Perhaps I should help them clear up. Tidy up the mess I’d just made.
My brain darted to the heated look in Luc’s eyes before I’d kissed him, though. To the feeling of his warm body pressed against mine, and I brought my teeth to my bottom lip.
Everyone else had gone to bed, but I didn’t know how I’d ever sleep peacefully again.