Barbara Dunlop - Transformed Into The Frenchman’s Mistress

He’d wanted to buy it for her. He still wished he’d bought it for her. He wanted to feel some ownership of the garment. And, he admitted to himself, he wanted to feel some ownership of the woman wearing it.

It was a ridiculous and inappropriate emotion. Charlotte didn’t need him in her life. Everything she’d said and done for the past three weeks told him she wanted stability. She wanted family. She wanted a man she could count on.

Nobody could count on Alec.

Still, it didn’t stop him from wanting her.

He crossed the room, crouching down beside the big bed.

“Charlotte?” he whispered.

She stirred in her sleep.

He brushed a hand gently over her hair. “Charlotte?”

She groaned. “Did they catch the château on fire?”

He smiled. “No. Everything’s still standing. You asleep?”

“I was.” She blinked her eyes open in the dappled light.

“I was lonely,” he confessed.

After a silent moment, she smiled sweetly up at him. “Me, too.”

“Thank goodness.”

She slid over, and he slipped into the bed beside her.

He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her backward against his body. “I like you in silk.” He nuzzled against her neck, kissing her hairline, breathing in the intoxicating scent of her skin. “I like you out of silk, too.” He slipped his hand below the hem of the short nightgown, sliding it up to her flat belly, letting it rest against the softness.

Then he kissed the side of her neck, drawing her earlobe into his mouth.

“Are we sleeping or making love?” she asked.

“Do you have a preference?” He did. But he was willing to compromise anything if it meant he could hold her in his arms tonight.

“Just getting clarification.”

“Any reason we can’t do both?”

“I’ve been having a little trouble getting up in the mornings.”

“I can be quick,” he offered. “And then you can get right to sleep.”

He felt her body quiver with laughter. “Such a gentleman.”

He moved his hand to the curve of her breast. “Does fast work for you?”

She turned onto her back, and he could just make out her expression in the moonlight. She was such an incredibly beautiful woman, and his heart did a funny flip-flop as he gazed into her eyes.

“Slow works for me,” she told him, slipping her small, soft fingertips under the hem of his T-shirt and stretching it off over his head.

“Slow it is.” He leaned in for a full-on kiss.

Her warm lips softened and parted. He was instantly lost in their magic. A cool breeze danced over his bare back, while his blood heated to a boil. But still he kissed her, holding her close, worshipping her body, moving ever so slowly, ever so patiently into more intimate kisses, more intimate caresses, making love to her until they both collapsed from exhaustion.

Even then, he held her close. Less than half-awake, at the first streaks of dawn, he longed for things he knew could never be.

Charlotte woke up alone. It was late, and the film set below on the front lawn was a hive of activity. Equipment was humming. People were shouting. And the greasy smells from the catering-truck breakfast grill permeated her bedroom.

Her stomach roiled.

She jumped out of bed and rushed to the bathroom, vomiting briefly into the toilet.

She sat back on the cool tiles, rubbing a sheen of sweat from her forehead. No matter how amazing it was with Alec in the middle of the night, she had to start getting some sleep. Raine might feel like a teenager, but Charlotte’s system was clearly rebelling.

She rose shakily to her feet, splashing water on her face and brushing her teeth at the sink. Now that the dizzy spell had passed, she was hungry. Really hungry.

Maybe she’d grab a snack first, then get a shower later. She reached for the robe hanging on the back of the bathroom door.

Suddenly, she froze.

She was incredibly hungry, and not the least bit ill.

This was four mornings now that she’d felt temporarily nauseated.

She did some quick math in her head, then she dropped weakly to sit on the edge of the tub.

No.

It couldn’t be.

They’d used a condom, and the odds against it were astronomical.

Still.

She cringed and dropped her face into her palms.

Her period was five days late, and she’d just vomited at the smell of bacon.

She had to get her hands on a home pregnancy test.

Positive.

Charlotte stared at the parallel magenta lines on the little plastic wand. She was pregnant. She was going to have Alec Montcalm’s baby, angering him and disgracing her grandfather all in one fell swoop. Alec hadn’t signed up for this.

And what would the Hudsons think? They’d realize she’d been carrying on an affair right here under their noses. Any respect she’d hoped to gain from Jack was gone. And Lillian. Lillian was from another time, another age. Charlotte barely knew her grandmother, and this was what Lillian would learn about her. Especially after learning of her brother Jack’s wife Cece’s pregnancy. She kept that a secret from Jack for two years. How would Lillian cope in another scandal?

She swiped at a wayward tear.

She was pregnant.

She had to be strong.

There was-

She glanced down at her stomach, and her hand moved reflexively over the flat surface. There was a baby inside her. A baby that would need love and care and protection, despite any circumstances of its birth. A little girl, like her. Or a little boy, like Jack, who would count on Charlotte to take care of him.

She sat up straighter, knowing what she had to do.

She’d keep her pregnancy a secret-at least until the film finished shooting. The Hudsons would never have to know it had happened here. Then she could quit her job with her grandfather, and go away, somewhere private, where nobody knew her and nothing could hurt her child.

She’d have to tell Alec eventually, of course.

Alec.

Her stomach tightened with dread.

How was she going to sleep with Alec again? She couldn’t do it with such a huge lie between them. And he would be back to her room, probably tonight. And she’d have to look him in the eyes and…

She groaned out loud.

“Charlotte?” It was Raine.

Charlotte grabbed at the plastic wand. “I’m…” she called out. “Just a…” She scrambled to her feet.

“Are you okay?”

“I’ll be…”

But it was too late.

The en suite door was open, and Raine had crossed the bedroom.

“Cece and I were-” Raine stopped cold, with Cece nearly barreling into the back of her.

Charlotte could feel the blood drain from her face.

The cardboard package was strewn across the countertop. The wand was in her hand, with its damning positive result glaring up in living color.

Raine reached for the wand, confirming what she had already seen.

In a split second, Raine had pulled Charlotte into her arms. The dam burst loose, and Charlotte’s tears flowed freely.

“It’s okay,” Raine crooned.

“It’s a disaster,” moaned Charlotte.

Raine grasped her firmly by the shoulders, pulling her slightly away, speaking firmly. “No. It’s not. Babies are never a disaster.”

“Alec doesn’t want to be a father,” Charlotte hiccuped. “He doesn’t even want a relationship. All he wants-”

“Don’t sell Alec short.”

But Raine didn’t understand. She had rose-colored glasses when it came to Alec. Though, who could blame her? He was a wonderful brother. He was willing to fight people for her.

The memory brought fresh tears, and the bathroom blurred around her.

She felt an arm on her shoulders, and it was Cece’s voice this time. “I know how you feel,” Cece stated. “I’ve been exactly where you are. You’re scared. You feel all alone. You’re desperately struggling to get your bearings.”