She's his in the bedroom, but he can't download her love Showered with diamonds, draped in exquisite lingerie, whisked arou. Emily Vaillon left her husband, Luc, a year ago. She couldn't stay with a man who clearly didn't love her--especially after she discovered she was pregnant. [PDF] The Frenchman's Captive Wife. The Frenchman's Captive Wife. Book Review. This ebook might be really worth a go through, and much better than other.
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Maybe she should give him one more chance? But she could not dismiss the images that tortured her mind of Luc making love to his beautiful assistant, and despair overwhelmed her.
She loved him so much, maybe too much. He was her life, her reason for living, but at that moment the baby kicked and she felt a determined little foot push against her stomach.
Passports, tickets, keys to the flat? The coach is here. All that had changed when Nick had persuaded Laura to join him in Spain and she had opened up her cookery school.
The business had been an instant success, catering for tourists eager to take lessons from an innovative chef who had earned her stars at a top London restaurant. Seeing his dark, handsome features again had momentarily caused her heart to stop beating. She had been shocked to discover the effect he still had on her, even after more than a year apart, but it had been the sight of his companion, the stunningly beautiful Robyn Blake, that had been the catalyst for her decision to bring a legal end to their farcical marriage.
It was time to put the past behind her, she thought resolutely. She had a baby, a burgeoning new business of her own and the freedom to live her life the way she chose.
She enjoyed her independence, she reminded herself fiercely. She had fought hard to rebuild her self-respect and it was time to sever the legal ties that bound her to Jean-Luc Vaillon.
Luc never wanted a child. She would make contact with Luc through a third party, and if he expressed any interest in seeing his son, the lawyers could thrash out the access arrangements along with the divorce.
Nothing about Jean-Luc Vaillon was simple. Laura must have taken Jean-Claude into the farmhouse, she thought, a prickle of unease threading along her spine. Something made her turn her head towards the car parked at the further end of the courtyard. For a few seconds she thought it must be a trick of the light, a mirage brought on by the heat of the midday sun, but when she blinked she realised he was no illusion.
Handsome was hardly an adequate description of him, she acknowledged numbly. This man was awesome, the power of his broad shoulders beneath his superbly tailored jacket so formidable that a trembling started deep inside her.
His eyes were hooded, hiding his expression, but she was struck by the hardness that emanated from him, the air of arrogance, of ruthlessness and sheer power, and she gave a cry as the world spun. What do you want? Tall, dark and devastatingly sexy, he unnerved her she acknowledged wryly. Her tiredness seemed to have vanished and she felt strangely enegised, every nerve ending tingling with a sense of expectation that refused to be quashed.
As for performing, I did that this afternoon.
Luc wondered savagely. Her air of vulnerability never ceased to affect him. Her eyes had darkened to the colour of midnight and appeared far too large for her pale, heart shaped face.
Her hair fell almost to her waist and he fought the urge to wind his fingers into the chestnut strands and pull her in. She was his woman, his wife damn it and he wanted her with a hunger that bordered on obsessive, but she had tried to barricade herself out of his reach.
Was she afraid of him? The thought made him pause fractionally, but every instinct told him it was not fear that made her shrink from him. He knew her too well, recognized the fierce sexual tension that gripped her so that her pupils dilated and she was forced to moisten her lips with the tip of her tongue.
She wanted him as badly as he wanted her, but convincing her of that fact was going to take more patience than he currently possessed.