She looked at his latest gift with a mixture of revulsion and amusement. "No, Lucien."
"But just last week you complained that I had ruined two blouses and your favorite skirt."
The exasperation on her face was not lost on him. "You are rather a difficult employer."
He opened his mouth, but her expression kept him silent.
"I will not be a kept woman, Lucien. Until we are married, I will continue to be your housekeeper and receptionist."
He sighed, then tried again. "The ad stated…"
"Where did you read this ad?"
"In a magazine. At the club."
"That explains quite a lot. What made you think this was appropriate?"
"Patrick Tyneman …"
"It's all becoming clear now." She rolled her eyes.
"He was engrossed in the magazine…"
"Ever suspicious of him, you read it cover to cover?"
"Yes."
"And for some reason you thought of me?"
"I think of you every moment of every day." His arms folded around her. His beard tickled as he nuzzled her ear.
She resisted the impulse to roll her eyes again. It was harder to resist the urge to turn around and return his embrace.
Pulling herself away, she paused to give him a half smile. "Now, we both have work to do, so it's best we get back to it."
Having finished her daily routine, she found she had some free time before starting dinner. Her curiosity got the better of her, so she stopped to pick up the box and carried it to her bedroom.
She looked in the mirror with amusement, imagining his expression if he could see her now. He really was the most ridiculous, clueless man. Her back to the mirror, she bent over and stifled a laugh. No, this would not do. She had a hard enough time keeping his hands off her.
That's when she saw him. He was frozen in the doorway, hand raised to knock, mouth open to announce himself.
She realized the pose she had taken gave him an ample view of all of her assets. She hurriedly stood and attempted to adjust her attire, but she knew it was a lost cause.
She blinked, and his arms were around her. His mouth crushing hers. "Jean."
When he said her name like that, she lost all resistance to his advances. His hands sought every inch of exposed skin. There was quite a lot of it, she thought with dismay. Even so, she made a wounded sound when he pulled away.
"I'm sorry, Jean." He sat on her bed, looking completely shaken.
She wanted to soothe him, but was afraid to encourage more embraces. She thought teasing him would be best option.
"Well, Lucien? Do you want me to wear my new uniform as your receptionist or only when I'm performing my duties as your housekeeper?"
"I knew the French could be risqué, but…"
"A French maid is not a housekeeper, Lucien."
"No." His wistful expression tugged at her heart. "No, I realize that now."
She knew she shouldn't, but she found herself settling in his lap with her arms around his neck. "Maybe we should keep it…for special occasions."
He raised his eyebrow and gave her such a lascivious once-over that she shivered.
"Are you cold?"
The flush on her chest and cheeks made it plain that she wasn't.
He began to kiss along the neckline of her costume. The sensation of his beard making its way across her breast caused her entire body to tingle. Her ears were ringing. No…that was actual ringing. Bloody phone! She thought.
Lucien raised his head. His eyes were unfocused, but his expression was determined. "I don't hear anything." He bent back to his task, and in a moment, the only sound she could hear was the rapid beat of her heart.