[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

into a response made all the fiercer by their separation. As she began
caresses of her own Luc stiffened and muttered something French and
indistinct in her ear.
'Yes, please,' she said breathlessly. 'I'd like that.'
Luc raised his head to stare down into her glittering eyes. 'You understood?'
She smiled exultantly. 'I've been studying in secret.'
He held her arms wide, keeping her pinned beneath him. 'Is there anything
else you should confess?' he demanded.
She nodded, and he waited, poised tense above her.
'Tell me, Portia!'
'It's just something I've been practising in secret.' She took in a deep breath,
her eyes holding his. 'Je t'aime beaucoup, Luc.'
He let out an unsteady breath and released her hands to bury his face in her
hair for a moment, then he kissed her with an urgency he could no longer
control, her response so explicit he lifted her hips and took possession of her,
their need for each other so overwhelming they were swiftly consumed by
the fierce heat of their reunion.
They stayed locked in each other's arms for a long time afterwards,
luxuriating in the bliss of reconciliation. But at last Portia struggled free.
'What is it, mignonne?' demanded Luc.
'I'm hungry!'
On a beautiful early summer day a few weeks later Portia walked down the
church aisle, smiling up at the man beside her. The smile stayed through all
the kissing and hugging, and the photographic session outside the church,
but once the photographer pronounced himself satisfied Portia found herself
firmly detached from the wedding group.
'Who is that man you were clinging to?' demanded Luc.
'Hal's friend. And I wasn't clinging. The chief bridesmaidalways walks arm
in arm with the best man,' said Portia happily. 'Besides, you know perfectly
well you're the best man where I'm concerned.' She gave him an approving
head-to-toe look. 'You look wonderful.'
'I like your dress, also,' said Luc, eyeing her narrow sheath of midnight-blue
silk. 'Very elegant, ma belle. However,' he added conversationally, 'I would
like very much to tear it off you right now. It is two endless weeks since we
were together.'
'What on earth are you saying, Luc Brissac?' called Marianne, 'It's the bride
who's supposed to blush, not the bridesmaid.'
The reception at the Taylors' home was a happy, informal affair, where most
of the guests mingled at will. But Luc flatly refused to move from Portia's
side the entire time, to the amusement of all concerned.
'Can't say I blame you,' said the bride's father, patting Portia's cheek. 'You're
a lucky man, Luc,' he added, and beckoned a waiter to refill their glasses.
'I know this,' Luc assured him.
Mr Taylor winked, then went off to see to the rest of his guests. Soon it was
time for speeches, and toasts to the bridesmaids, then the cake was cut, and
at last Marianne went off with her mother to change.
'Soon,' said Luc, 'we shall be able to go, n 'est ce pas?'
'Yes,' said Portia, and smiled up at him. 'What do you think of a traditional
British wedding?'
'Most charming. But very long. I have made so much conversation my
English is beginning to desert me.'
'Like it does in bed,' she whispered, and his eyes darkened.
it no longer matters, since you now understand everything I say.'
She smiled demurely. 'Not quite everything.'
'Tonight I shall translate every word,' he promised, sliding an arm round her.
'Luc, can you let Portia go for a minute?' called Hal. 'Marianne wants her.'
'Not as much as I do,' muttered Luc, but he released his hold on Portia's waist
and watched her go upstairs before joining Hal and his best man.
Marianne was waiting in her room, ready for her honeymoon in the suit
they'd chosen together. 'Well, then, Portia. It's done. The knot's tied.'
'Are you happy?' said Portia.
'Very. Luc looks happy too. I take it things are settled?'
Portia nodded. 'Beau Rivage is reverting to a hotel again. Madame Brissac
has found a house near Ghislaine and her family, and Luc and I are going to
alternate between his apartment in Paris and the one he's bought in London.'
'So it's happy-ever-after time for us both,' said Marianne with satisfaction.
'I never really thought it would be for me,' said Portia soberly, and they
hugged each other convulsively, until a knock on the door broke them apart.
'Come on, Mrs Courtney, or we'll miss our flight,' yelled Hal. 'There's
another impatient guy out here too. Luc wants his wife back.'
The two friends looked at each other, blinked a little, then smiled and went
to join the men waiting for them outside on the landing.
'I hope you haven't been putting my bridegroom off the joys of wedded
bliss,' said Marianne, laughing up at Luc.
'Au contraire, Madame Courtney.' Luc grinned wickedly. 'I am as eager to
resume my marriage as Hal is to begin his.'
'I'm surprised you let Portia work out her notice alone in London,' said
Marianne, as the four of them went downstairs together.
'It was the only way I could get her to marry me so quickly,' he said with
regret. 'It is no way to conduct a marriage, with the bridegroom in Provence
and the bride in London.'
'We had a honeymoon at that gorgeous chateau first,' pointed out his wife.
'True. But it was not long enough.'
Later, after Luc and Portia had waved off the bridal pair and taken protracted
leave of their hosts, Luc got into the car with a sigh of relief. 'A mile or two
only, cherie, and we can be alone at last.'
Portia gave him a startled look. 'I thought we were going back to London
tonight.'
'No, we are not.' Luc smiled smugly as they drove away from the Taylor
home. 'I booked a room at a very pleasing little country hotel not far from
here, mignonne.''
Portia began to laugh. 'You are a very high-handed man, Luc Brissac.'
'Do you mind that I am so eager to be alone with you?'
'No. Not a bit. It's a brilliant idea. I can't think why I didn't think of it myself.'
'Because you are a woman, cherie.'
'What's that got to do with it?'
'A man who exists without his very new wife for two long weeks is naturally
obsessed with thoughts of taking her to bed the moment he sees her again.
With a woman it is sadly different.'
'Not this woman,' said Portia, and gave him a wicked little smile. 'Your wife
is in complete accord. Monsieur Brissac. Can't you drive a bit faster?' [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]