Barbara Dunlop - Transformed Into The Frenchman’s Mistress

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If there was anything Charlotte Hudson had learned in her twenty-five years, it was how to be proper. So how had the ambassador's granddaughter ended up on a wild movie assignment, ensconced in a centuries-old Provençal castle with notorious French playboy Alec Montcalm? While her relatives from Hudson Pictures were busy filming at Chateau Montcalm, the real drama was going on behind the antique wooden doors – beneath satin sheets. Charlotte knew their crazy, scandalous secret liaison wouldn't last. And then she discovered she was pregnant.

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“Why not?” she dared ask.

“I’m self-centered and suspicious. I have no depth of character. And I’ve skated along on my family’s legacy my entire life.”

Charlotte couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

“I accused you of sabotaging our condoms,” he continued. “And, and at the time, I meant it.” A note of desperation came into his voice. “If it’s not my money-Without my money-” The question seemed torn from his soul. “What is there to love?”

Charlotte’s shoulders slumped, half in astonishment and half in abject relief. “I love you, Alec.”

He shook his head.

“I don’t want your money.”

“I know,” he admitted.

“Then there’s no other explanation, is there?”

“There could be,” he argued.

She moved toward him. “Then come up with one.”

He watched her in suspicious silence.

She moved in closer. “Come up with one,” she dared him.

Then she stopped less than a foot away, tipping her chin to gaze at his tense expression in the dusky light. She gathered the final shreds of her courage, going for broke. “Come up with a logical explanation, or tell me that you love me back.”

He stared at her, and something flickered in the depths of his dark eyes. “Are those my only choices?”

“Yeah.”

“Can I propose instead?”

The burning weight lifted off Charlotte’s chest, and she blinked against tears of relief. “Only if you say you love me first.”

“I love you first.” He reached for her. “I’ve loved you since I saw you on that dance floor in Rome.”

“I didn’t love you then,” she admitted, and he laughed.

“Just so long as you caught on eventually.”

“I caught on a few weeks ago.” She smacked him in the shoulder. “Why weren’t you paying attention?”

“Ouch.” He rubbed his shoulder, pretending she’d hurt him. “You’re as bad as your brother.”

She peered at Alec’s face. “Where’d he hit you?”

Alec pointed to his jaw.

She came up on tiptoe and kissed it better. Then she leaned forward to kiss the shoulder she’d smacked.

“I was paying attention,” said Alec. “But all I could tell was that I wanted to be with you more than any other woman, other person, ever in my life. I was afraid it wasn’t real.” He paused. “So I guess I took steps to make sure it couldn’t be real.”

“It’s real,” she whispered, looping her arms around his neck.

His hand slipped between their bodies to rest on her stomach. “Our baby,” he whispered, “is going to be loved and protected and cared for by two very happy parents.”

Charlotte smiled, hope and joy flowing freely through her veins. Their baby would have loving parents, and Jack and Cece and Theo. Raine and- Raine!

“Raine was getting me the limo,” said Charlotte. “She’ll wonder-”

“Don’t you worry about Raine.” Alec settled his arms around Charlotte’s waist. “Kiefer’s taking her on a date tonight.”

“That’s nice.” Charlotte smiled.

“He’s bringing along a pretty impressive diamond solitaire.”

“Really?” Charlotte was thrilled for her friend.

“He’s a good man,” said Alec.

She nodded in return.

“So, what about you?” he asked.

“What about me?”

He cocked his head to one side. “What are you doing tonight?”

She pretended to ponder. “Well, I do have this plane reservation.”

“Canceled,” he said, settling his arms more firmly at her waist.

“Then I guess I’m free.”

“Care to join me for dinner?”

She smiled and pulled up for a quick kiss. “Love to.”

“There’s a safe in my bedroom.”

“Really, Alec, condoms are no longer necess-”

He laughed. “I mean a jewelry safe.”

“I thought I’d made it pretty clear that you didn’t need to bribe me,” she teased.

“I was thinking we could look for an engagement ring. There’s no end of heirloom jewelry up there. As I recall, my grandmother-Charlotte?”

She couldn’t stop her tears this time. “You were serious?”

“About marrying you? Hell, yes. Right away. Right now. As soon as we can get a license.” He sobered. “You’re carrying my baby, Charlotte. My heir. I’m not giving you a chance to change your mind.”

“I won’t change my mind,” she told him sincerely. In Alec’s arms for the rest of her life was exactly where she wanted to be.

In a secluded corner of the Montcalm garden, screened by cypress trees, with the scent of lavender wafting through the air, Charlotte and Alec stood next to Raine and Kiefer as the priest intoned their vows.

Charlotte wore a strapless white dress, three-quarter-length satin with flat lace over a fitted bodice, with a white satin bow tied over one hip. Raine’s dress was slightly fuller, more formal, with clouds of soft tulle following to just below her knees. She had cap sleeves and a princess neckline. Both women carried bouquets of lavender and white roses.

Jack and Cece served as witnesses and, along with Theo, were the only guests. Dressed in a little gray suit, Theo played in the grass, picking wildflowers as the ceremony wore on.

Alec slipped an antique gold band onto Charlotte’s finger, snuggling it up to the two-carat, princess-cut solitaire once worn by his grandmother. As they were pronounced man and wife, he drew her to him for a long, tender kiss. When it ended, Charlotte had to force herself to let go.

Then Kiefer kissed Raine, and Jack popped the cork on the bottle of Montcalm champagne.

“Welcome to the family,” Jack told Alec, pouring the pale, bubbly liquid into the waiting champagne flutes. “I trust this means we’ll get a discount on renting your château?”

“Discount?” asked Alec, brows raised as Cece caught Theo’s hands going for the small white and lavender wedding cake.

“Surely you won’t charge your own family full price.” Jack held up his glass to propose a toast.

“Surely,” Kiefer echoed.

“To the brides,” said Jack, his soft gaze catching Charlotte’s, transporting her back to being four years old, when her big brother walked on water.

“The stunningly beautiful brides,” he finished.

“The brides,” the small group echoed.

“We won’t charge you for the château,” said Alec.

Jack nearly choked on his champagne. “I was joking,” he sputtered, while Cece patted him on the back.

Charlotte gave Alec an astonished look. “But the damage.”

He shrugged. “We’ll-”

A loud crack rent the air, and the entire group reflexively cringed. Then something groaned, and there were far-off shouts. The wedding party rushed to the pathway in time to see Isabella, Ridley and three crew members dash out of the pool house.

A cameraman scrambled to the bottom of a stately old oak tree. The oak groaned a second time, keeling over in slow motion, falling with increasing speed until it landed on top of the pool house, squashing it flat.

David shouted something unintelligible, arms waving as he stomped toward the cameraman. But he missed a step, tripped on a cable and fell headfirst into the pool.

“Wow,” said Alec, taking a sip of his champagne and resettling his arm around Charlotte’s waist.

“Don’t see that every day,” said Kiefer.

“Yeah, that’ll be coming out of David’s fees,” Jack put in, lifting his glass to his lips.

Charlotte anchored her arms around Alec’s waist, tipping her head up. “Welcome to the family, sweetheart.”

He kissed her soundly on the lips, the sweet champagne on his tongue tickling her senses and making promises for the night ahead.

He drew back, gazing into her eyes with raw longing. “And welcome to mine.”

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