LITMIR.BIZ

Скачать книгу

know about the maniacal tendencies. You did go to Myanmar during a typhoon.”

      “After a typhoon.” He waggled his finger at her. “There is a grand difference.”

      “Well, you learned your lesson this time. At least in Provence you can drink the water.”

      “Why would you, with all the good wine?” He laughed. “Does your laptop have a webcam?”

      “Sure.” She’d “called” Sarah with it yesterday to assure her cousin she was still alive and walking around Paris. Sarah was still queasy, but that was the worst of it. Her OB had seen her the next day and had been horrified at the idea of an overseas trip.

      “If I could borrow it, I can call one of my old teachers who would vouch for me. A lady teacher, if that would be better.”

      It would. Still not believing she was even considering a crazy side trip like this, Lily fired up the webcam and Jack dragged his chair around next to her. The tables were close together as it was, so he was only inches away.

      Up close, he was even sexier as he rested his arm along the back of her chair. She inhaled his woodsy cologne that smelled exotic and…erotic. Her nipples tightened under her thin silk T-shirt, and a long-forgotten throbbing started between her thighs. She crossed her legs to try to tamp that down and forgot she was wearing a skirt and that he was sitting so close.

      Her bare leg briefly rested on his thigh—he was still wearing shorts. She pulled away but instead wound up running her calf down the length of his.

      That certainly did not help her cool off. Or him, either, apparently. His eyes widened and his nostrils flared. Geez, why didn’t she just crawl into the guy’s lap?

      “Sorry,” she muttered.

      “No, no, it is very close in here.” He took a deep breath and shifted away slightly before turning the computer toward him. “I have an account, so you will not be charged.” He logged in and tapped in a web address. “Ah, here we are. Perhaps my former teacher is online now.”

      The wine in Lily’s stomach hadn’t sedated the butterflies as she waited for the window to open. What would she decide if she found out Jack Montford was the best thing since sliced croissants?

      JACK’S FORMER GOVERNESS appeared in the webcam window on the computer screen. Her gray hair was pulled into a bun as usual, a pencil shoved into it. She was probably working on another editing or translating project from her home in London.

      “Bonsoir, Madame Finch. How are you tonight?” he continued in French.

      “Jacques, it is good to see you in one piece,” she replied. “Why are we speaking in French?” Madame Finch was as English as Winston Churchill and had been Jack’s governess for many years until he had gone to prep school. They almost never spoke French together because he had needed to practice his English.

      “I need you to vouch for my good character to this young lady.”

      “What?” She wrinkled her brow. “You’ve never needed my help before to meet women. Surely your sterling personal qualities combined with the cachet of being the Count de Brissard are sufficient to impress the female sex?”

      “Madame, I haven’t told her about my title. She is suspicious of upper-class men as it is.”

      “Oh, a smart girl.” Madame smirked.

      Lily was starting to wonder why they were only speaking French. “So, Madame, I need to assure her of my sterling personal characteristics. Oh, and don’t tell her I’m a doctor. She thinks I’m a regular disaster-relief worker.”

      “Anything else?” she asked dryly. “You must really want her to like you for yourself.”

      He stopped, struck by the truth of that statement. “Yes, yes, I do.”

      “If you like her so much, you must tell her about your whole life, more than bits and pieces.”

      “I will.” Madame was correct, as always.

      “Good.” She switched into English. “Please do excuse our rudeness in speaking French in front of you, mademoiselle. I work as a French translator and editor and welcome any practice with a native speaker like Jacques.”

      Lily smiled. “No problem. I’m Lily Adams, from Philadelphia, but I live in New Jersey now.”

      Madame nodded. “Ah, an American. Jacques did enjoy his years there. I am Fiona Finch, and I was fortunate enough to be Jacques’s teacher when he was young.”

      Good. She hadn’t called herself the governess. That would have raised certain issues.

      Lily cleared her throat. “Yes, well, Jack and I just met today.”

      Madame’s eyebrows shot up. “Today? Well, a true coup de foudre, right, Jacques?”

      “Oh, what does that mean?” Lily asked him innocently.

      He gave a strained smile. “A flash of lightning, something unexpected.” It also meant love at first sight.

      “Yes, that’s true.” Lily smiled at Madame. “I bumped into him in the hostel lobby, tried practicing my French on him, and he responded in English because my French is obviously not very good. Then we started chatting, he took me to that park with butts in the name, and then he asked me to go to Provence with him. But I’m not going anywhere with a guy I met today because I don’t want to be one of those international stories that wind up on the twenty-four-hour news networks discussing, ‘Where could Lily Adams be?’” Lily wound down her worries, Madame nodding in agreement the whole time.

      “I commend you for your sensibility. Unfortunately, Europe is full of handsome, unscrupulous young men.”

      Jack made a noise of protest, but Lily ignored him, leaning in to peer at Madame. “That’s it exactly! I wasn’t planning to come by myself but my cousin is having a baby, after all, and she wants me to be very careful because I am alone.”

      “You brave girl.” Madame was ignoring him now as well in a moment of female bonding. “Cads and bounders! Europe’s crawling with ’em these days. It’s a wonder girls don’t go missing by the trainloads considering the trash that dares walk the street.”

      “Exactly!”

      Jack didn’t see this going well for him. “But Madame—”

      Madame was just warming up. “You should have seen the riffraff I encountered on my last trip. Utterly disgusting the way they act—”

      “Madame, please!” Jack interrupted in desperation. “Lily is going to think I’m an axe murderer.”

      Both women looked at him as if they’d forgotten his presence. Lily muffled a giggle and Madame frowned at him for his poor manners.

      “Excuse me, Madame,” he apologized.

      She sniffed but inclined her head in acceptance of his apology. “So, Mademoiselle Lily, despite the preponderance of dubious characters, my former student Jacques is not one of them. He is diligent, hard-working, courteous and of the highest moral fiber.”

      “He did say he was a Boy Scout.”

      “Oh, my, yes. Earned the highest award in the organization. If he has promised to show you around Provence, you can be assured that he will conduct himself with the utmost of gentlemanly qualities. No need to fear he would pounce on you like a panther.”

      “Oh.” Was it his wishful thinking, or did Lily sound a tiny bit disappointed? She sat up straighter. “I’m glad you vouch for his character.”

      “Absolutely.” Madame gave him a steely glare. “And I will give you my phone number. Please call me if you have any concerns. I have many friends in the south of France and they would be happy to come to your assistance.” Jack winced—he’d better behave himself. Madame’s friends in the south of France were all his own

Скачать книгу