She shook her head, sadly. “My parents were…not nice parents, but they weren’t the only ones. Fat little girls with scars on their faces do not get compliments on anything other than their brains. And even then, pretty girls with brains still win.”
“Well, this time you’ll be the one to win. And you are pretty,” he told her, clearly more than a bit angry.
“Please send all these things here,” Etienne told the saleswoman as he gave her his credit card and a slip of paper with Meg’s address on it. “And she’ll need underthings. Lots of them. Silky, pretty stuff. Meg…”
But Meg was suddenly blushing horribly and by now even she knew that she was blushing for real. “You’re not buying me lingerie,” she said. “I’m not that kind of woman.”
“What kind is that? Do you mean you don’t wear underwear, Meg?”
Meg heard the woman make a choking sound and she wasn’t sure if the lady was trying to hold back a laugh or just as startled as Meg was.
Meg looked at Etienne and there was no question that he was laughing. He was trying to cow her into buying something she truly didn’t need.
“Sometimes I don’t,” she said, blustering in and lifting her chin defiantly even though it was a lie. She didn’t care. All this talk of how pretty she was…How could she have forgotten her rotten luck with men? Alan had told her all kinds of lies and she had believed them. They hadn’t been nearly as preposterous as the things Etienne had been saying.
But she took one look at Etienne and knew that she had stepped over a line. His eyes were dark and heated, and the look on his face was…territorial, sensual, utterly male.
There was no way she knew anything at all about handling that kind of reaction. She’d never elicited that kind of reaction from any man. She was definitely in over her head.
“But I’ll probably need some things for the times I do wear underwear,” she said quickly. “I’ll tell you my size,” she told the woman, scrambling for a scrap of paper. She was so not going to say her bra size out loud. Especially not in Etienne’s presence.
She handed the woman the paper and began a march toward the door. Every step she took was agony. She felt as if the eyes of the world were on her, and that she was alone. It was a feeling she knew all too well.
But within seconds Etienne was beside her. He took her arm and curled his hand around hers. “I’m sorry,” he said.
“For what?”
“I embarrassed you.”
And she realized something. “You weren’t laughing at me, were you?”
“I was teasing you. Because we’re…Because I like you. That’s a very different thing from laughing at someone.”
Warmth stole through Meg. He was right, so right, but she had never had that. That closeness. At least not with a man.
“That was pretty clever and amusing,” she conceded. “At least after I get over my initial surprise. Did you see that poor woman’s face? We must have shocked her.”
“She thinks we’re sleeping together,” he said. “Or at least she did until you told me that you don’t wear underwear. A man who was sleeping with a woman would know that.”
Her delight in their closeness dimmed a bit. She and Etienne would be friends but despite the way he affected her, they could and would never be more.
Still, she’d known that from the start. She had no right at all to complain. As it was, his comment reminded her of why they had been arguing. “Etienne, why do I need special underwear? No one but me will ever see it.”
“A shame,” he said, “if that’s true. But, even so, you need to feel beautiful all the way to your skin. In fact, Meg, I’ve learned a few things about you today. Your instruction has to be far more thorough than I had originally planned. We’re not only going to resurrect Fieldman’s Furnishings in the next two months, but by the time you and I are through, you’re going to know that you’re an attractive woman right down to the cellular level. Men will fall at your feet. Women will admire and envy you.”
She laughed at his ridiculously optimistic comments, but later when he was seeing her off at her door, Meg had to face reality. Etienne had come into her life like a shooting star. He was all fire and enthusiasm and confidence, but she wasn’t that way.
Picking up Lightning, who uncharacteristically allowed herself the indignity, Meg looked up at Etienne. “Do you always have this much passion about everything?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean…me. I know I asked for help, and I know I need to look right if I’m supposed to be a spokesperson, but you’ve jumped in and taken me on as a kind of project, one where you’re determined to get the blue ribbon by turning me into the best jam at the county fair. You’re so sure, so enthusiastic, so determined. Don’t you ever doubt? Or question?”
He reached out one hand, and Lightning coyly batted his finger with her paw. “I question many things,” he said solemnly. “More than you’ll ever know. I make lots of mistakes and I hate that. I’ve done things I regret and even things I can’t live with. I question myself every day about those things and I always will, but I don’t question truth when it stares me in the face, Meg. You are an amazing, striking woman.”
“And you know this how?”
He smiled gently and tucked one finger under her chin. Lightning made her escape. “I know this because you came back to the business, you did something you hated the thought of doing just to save your friends. And I know this because I’m a man, and I have eyes in my head.”
And without another word, he leaned over and placed his lips on hers. Gently but firmly, he kissed her. And then he left.
Meg felt as if her knees had turned to noodles. She swayed on her feet, but she didn’t move.
“I’ll see you in the morning, Meg,” Etienne called to her as he exited the building. “Tomorrow we pick up the pace.”
But as she lay in her bed that night Meg wondered if she could take a faster pace with Etienne. Already, she was short of breath and not thinking clearly. Another day like this and she wouldn’t be able to survive.
Her mind was playing dangerous tricks on her. Her lips were tingling, and she was most certainly wanting things that she could never, ever have.
Drat the man! Why couldn’t he have stayed in France?
Because Edie would be destroyed. He had to come save Edie. And Meg had to help.
But, Meg wondered, who would save her when Etienne had gone back to France and all she had were aching lips and arms and memories. She was just going to have to be stronger and more resilient tomorrow. She was definitely going to have to stop acting like a total idiot and wondering what it would be like if Etienne kissed her again.
ETIENNE filed past the row of people at their desks. He had opened the doors to the employees today, and they were all waiting for him to say something. The expressions on their faces were a mixture of fervent hope and something less than pleasant. Suspicion. Well, that was to be expected. They didn’t know him. Their fates were in his hands.
But when Meg strolled in a few minutes behind him, there were no conflicting emotions flickering across people’s faces. Everyone was smiling. Tiny, wiry little Edie went to Meg and hugged her. “Welcome home,” the older woman said.
And