Page 61 of Frenched (Frenched 1)
5) You are even allowed to imagine tying him to a chair and bossing him around a little. Whatever turns you on. But no matter what, you are not allowed to think or—God forbid—utter the L word. Got it?
I gave the girl in the mirror the fiercest look I had, and she seemed to understand.
When I came out of the bathroom, I noticed Lucas had changed from jeans into red swim trunks, and the sight of his bare chest did whirlpool things to my insides. “I thought maybe we’d sit by the pool a little after our walk. If you’re up for that, I mean. We have some time before dinner.”
“Sounds heavenly. I’ll get my suit on.” I rummaged through my clothing without seeing any of it, still feeling out of sorts. “So…do you get to visit here often?
“About once a year.” Lucas pulled a gray t-shirt over his head. “Usually every summer.”
My hands fumbled through my suitcase as I watched his abs disappear. When he caught me staring, I looked down. Damn. What am I looking for again?
“My mother guilts me about only visiting her only once a year,” he went on, “but planes do fly the other way across the Atlantic. Sometimes I think she forgets that.” Lucas pulled a pair of flip-flops from his bag and tossed them on the floor.
I smiled half-heartedly, but an insidious thought had invaded my brain. Had he ever brought his girlfriend here? Before I could decide if I really wanted the answer, the question was out. “Have you ever brought anyone here with you before?”
“Once.”
Jealousy gripped me hard by the throat as I closed my fist around my bikini top. “Jessica?”
“Yeah. We came for my oldest brother’s wedding a few years ago.”
“How nice.” I took my bathing suit out of my bag. I hate you, Jessica. “What a perfect spot for a wedding.” I could envision the entire thing—the white linen tablecloths, wooden dining chairs, candles in white frosted glasses, centerpieces made with lavender or maybe olive branches.
For a moment, I pictured myself in a beautiful wedding gown, not the formal beaded one I’d chosen before, but something softer and simpler. Arm in arm with my dad, I was floating down a gravel path lined with candles toward…
I swallowed hard.
That is not on the Appropriate list.
“I guess so,” Lucas said, running a hand through his hair. “Um, I’ll give you a minute to get your suit on, and then we’ll go down.”
I couldn’t help smiling. “Lucas. You’ve seen every inch of my body up close and personal. I don’t mind if you watch me change into my bathing suit.”
“In that case…” He flopped onto the bed and set his head in his hand. “Start the show.”
Although I was nervous, meeting Lucas’s family was not as uncomfortable as I’d feared. His mother, Mireille, was a striking dark-haired woman with luminous skin and a petite frame. After welcoming both Lucas and me with kisses on each cheek, she insisted that we sit with her for a chat.
We sat at a table and chairs beneath a huge umbrella, where she asked me about where I lived and how I was enjoying my trip. She also asked how we’d met, and when Lucas told her the truth—omitting the bit about the canceled wedding—she didn’t seem to think it strange we’d only made each other’s acquaintance a few days before.
“How nice,” she said. “Lucas is a perfect tour guide for Paris.”
“He is,” I agreed. “I really got lucky.”
Lucas pinched my leg under the table.
#
“Your mom is so beautiful.” I leaned over to inhale the fragrant white flowers along the path Lucas and I were following through the garden. “No wonder she had all those men falling for her.”
“Well, lots of men are fools for beauty.” He nudged my arm. “Myself included.”
Straightening up, I blushed and smiled sideways at him. “Thanks.” We ambled slowly through the private little paradise. Even the bees seemed content here, buzzing about the blossoms without bothering us. “Your brother seems nice.”
Lucas rolled his eyes. “Another fool.”
“Oh, come on. He’s in love.”
I’d met Lucas’s older brother Gilles and his fiancée Lisette by the pool too, as well as several of their friends staying at the villa for the party. Gilles fawned over Lisette to the point of absurdity, fetching her towels and sunscreen and water and magazines, all the while gazing at her adoringly. He resembled Lucas in a way, but was taller, lankier, and not quite as handsome.
