"Oh, Mademoiselle la Comtesse, how good to see you." She tried to curtsy again, but Angelica quickly secured an arm around Madame Blanche's shoulders, halting her intent.

"So good to see you too. My, what a lovely dress, Madame." Angelica peeked up at Simon.

He watched and smiled, yet she noted, disheartened, that the smile on his lips didn't reflect in his eyes.

"Why, thank you. It's so kind of you to say so. You know, I've made gowns for many important women in France. Women of the aristocracy, just like yourself, wo-"

"Madame Blanche." Angelica abruptly stopped the woman's flow of words and grabbed Gabriella's hand. "Madame Dragani is in need of new gowns. Isn't that so, Gabriella?"

"Ah...yes! Yes, it is." She wanted to kiss her friend for her a.s.sistance.

"Madame Dragani?" Madame Blanche looked around as though noticing the others for the first time. "Oh my, forgive my manners." She was quick to greet Simon, Sabine, and Gabriella. "How wonderful, Madame Dragani! Please, come this way. I shall attend to you." The older woman gestured toward her shop.

Angelica and her two friends exchanged knowing nods. She was happy to see them walk away with the dear dressmaker.

Madame Blanche turned. "Oh, Mademoiselle la Comtesse, you must come too. I have set aside my finest fabrics for you." She raised a hand, halting Angelica's response. "Now, I know Suzette has made you lovely gowns. She is indeed talented with a needle, but I would ask for the honor of making you a gown. My gift to you." The woman curtsied low.

Angelica briefly closed her eyes, wishing Madame Blanche wouldn't continue to stand on unwanted ceremony. She felt Simon place his hand at the small of her back. The thrill of his touch made her insides dance. She wanted to be alone with him. She didn't want to discuss gowns, and she certainly didn't want the constant references to her cla.s.s-a cla.s.s she'd never really belonged to-in front of Simon. She couldn't leave dear Madame's presence fast enough.

"Madame Blanche, you are too generous, but-"

"Oh, I insist! A lovely gown for our island's exalted citizen," she gushed. "An Aristo!"

Dear G.o.d, could the woman not be silent? She felt Simon remove his hand from her back. She stiffened, not wishing to see what was reflected in his eyes. Then he brushed his fingers against the nape of her neck before he rested his warm palm there.

Leaning in, he said softly in her ear, "It is just a gown. Let her make it for you. It will make her very happy."

He was right, of course. Why was she refusing? It was only making matters worse, and Madame Blanche had only good intentions.

Angelica smiled. "I accept your lovely gift. Thank you, Madame."

"Oooh!" She clapped her hands with glee. "Come. I shall take your measurements."

"Not today, Madame." Simon surprised Angelica with his answer. She looked up at him questioningly. Returning her gaze, he said, "Perhaps tomorrow."

Angelica seized the opportunity of escape Simon had just created for her. "Yes! Tomorrow would be better."

Madame Blanche looked slightly disappointed. "Certainly. Tomorrow it is, then. I shall make you the finest gown-"

"You shall make her four fine gowns," Simon interjected.

"Four?" Angelica and Blanche asked in chorus.

"Yes. One will be a gift from you, Madame, and the other three, gifts from me. Only the finest fabrics are to be used 'befitting her station of birth.'"

"Oh, Captain, of course. Until tomorrow!" She curtsied for Angelica one last time before rushing back to her shop.

Angelica turned to Simon, frowning.

"I don't require gowns 'befitting my station of birth.' I don't desire excesses. Nor do I need pampering. n.o.bility and its trappings do not hold importance to me."

The last thing Simon wanted was to argue about this now. He simply smiled, indicating a state of cheerfulness he didn't feel. "What if I wish to pamper you for the simple pleasure I would derive from it? I am hardly poor. I can afford to buy you some gowns."

He saw she was about to protest further and cupped her cheek. Drawing his thumb lightly over her lips, he quelled her words. "Angelica, although you would be stunning barefoot, wearing sackcloth, I enjoy seeing you in finery. Allow me to buy them for you. Like Madame Blanche, it would make me happy." But that was not the entire truth. He wanted her to have gowns just as an Aristo would. She would need them when she returned to her proper life.

And there was a part of him that wanted her to have something from him. He couldn't help wondering if she'd think of him years from now. It shouldn't matter whether she did.

He shoved the thoughts away, unsettled by them and the emotions warring inside him. He had to be detached-reminding himself why he'd agreed to her arrangement in the first place. To purge her from his system.

He had to believe what he felt for her was no more than a mere infatuation. Eventually, as with the others, he'd have his fill. Then he could go on with his life. And she could do the same. In France. Within her rightful social circle.

"I shall accept your gift only because it makes you happy," she said, "but there are things I seek that would please me."

He shouldn't ask; the warm look in her eyes gave him pause. "What do you seek?" The words left his mouth nonetheless.

She stepped forward and surprised him when she slipped her arms around his waist-right in the middle of the village for everyone to see. Rising up onto the b.a.l.l.s of her feet, she brought her mouth close to his ear and said, "You."

The single word and her display of public affection left him feeling as if warm, sweet nectar had just melted over his insides.

Before he realized it, his arms had encircled her, and his cheek rested against her silky curls. He couldn't bring himself to ask if she meant his body or...more. Either way, he didn't want to know the answer.

Noticing a number of onlookers, remembering himself, his plan, and his lunch arrangement, Simon murmured near her ear. "I have a surprise for you. I've cleared my commitments for the rest of the day, and if you are free, perhaps I can interest you in sharing a picnic with me." Dieu, he needed this time with her. Time and overindulgence. That was the remedy for breaking this fever.

She pulled back instantly. Delight danced in her eyes. He fought back the urge to pull her to him again.

"How wonderful. Where?"

Her smile was contagious. "Somewhere special."

"More surprises, Simon?" She took his hand in hers. "If you keep this up, I shall become spoiled and unbearably demanding."

A soft chuckle escaped him. "I have no problem indulging your every carnal whim," he felt constrained to say, forcing himself to keep their involvement within the boundaries that were comfortable for him-s.e.xual in nature only.

He was glad he had the entire afternoon and into the night to spend with her. Most of all, he was grateful for the weeks that still lay ahead before he'd return to face France and Fouquet.

Time would be his greatest ally. It was time to focus on decadent pleasures, to focus on his plan and indulge in this delectable woman.

Chapter Twenty.

The sound of rushing water pouring over gray rock mingled with their quickened breaths and soft moans. Lying on a blanket near the natural pool, their lunch now forgotten, his doublet and some of her clothing scattered around them, Simon realized he was a drowning man.

Drowning in the woman under him.

He sat up abruptly, his breathing labored, overwhelmed by the intensity between them. And the foreign, unrelenting emotions overtaking him.

He dragged a hand over his face. Dieu. He needed a moment.

His last thought had sent him sitting bolt upright.

The thought that he would not let her go. Ever.

He'd brought Angelica to his favorite spot. He'd ordered that the picnic be set up so that they could enjoy the scenic waterfalls and the pool beneath it, an oasis that was secluded by trees and lush foliage, and she'd been moved by the gesture. A small voice inside him chastised him for the error. He should limit what they shared to his bedroom. But when he'd seen how pleased he'd made her, the small voice had been subdued by the contentment that welled up inside him.

Simon heard her sit up.

"Simon, what is amiss?"

Her chestnut-colored hair was down in long, soft curls. Having coaxed the clothes from her sweet form, he had her down to her chemise. The veil of cloth hid little from his hungry view. However, there was more than physical attraction affecting him.

He beat the emotions back, and glanced toward the waterfalls.

Merde. He wasn't used to feelings like these during s.e.x.

He might have made a lot of mistakes in his quest for betterment, but he would not err here. He couldn't-wouldn't-deny her the life that had been denied to him. He wouldn't let her lose her n.o.bility-and that was the consequence for a n.o.blewoman who married a commoner.

He would let her go. He would not keep her.

"What is it, Simon?" She forced his face back to hers. "This has to do with n.o.bility..."

He quickly kissed her. Uncomfortable with his emotional turmoil, he didn't want to talk about this now, afraid of what he might say. He used the moment to collect himself, drawing upon years of experience in disguising his true thoughts and feelings to help him.

If he'd learned to hide his emotions, emotions as strong as fear, since he was a boy growing up on warships with Robert, then he could certainly manage to hide this, as a man, until, by strength of will, he'd master it.

She broke the kiss and frowned. "Simon, I wish to talk about this."

"Not now." He formed a smile. "There is something I want to do first." He stood and held out his hand.

She remained seated, arms at her sides, staring up at him.

He indicated the environs with a sweep of this other hand. "This is our private Eden. Come, I'll make it worth your while." His right hand still jutted out, waiting for hers.

She folded her arms, not looking inclined to comply.

"I see my Eve requires further encouragement." He pulled off his shirt and tossed it down onto his doublet. The sunshine felt good against his skin.

He bent down, easily picking her up in his arms and, walking toward the water's edge, climbed up onto a rock.

"Simon, what are you doing?"

"Enjoying our private paradise. A little fun and frolic in the sun." He glanced at the inviting water before them.

Her pretty eyes narrowed slightly. "You wouldn't dare..."

He c.o.c.ked a brow. "Wouldn't I?"

He tossed her into the blue-green water, hearing her yelp of surprise just as she broke the surface. This was exactly what he needed-lighthearted diversions to lift his spirits and s.e.xual indulgence to diminish the enchantment.

It had to work.

Quickly, he stripped away his remaining clothing and jumped in after her, welcoming the water's cool sting against his body.

Just as he resurfaced, she splashed him.

He wiped the water off his face with a swipe of his hand, then reached out and pulled her into his arms.

"Sorry, but you looked as though you needed cooling off," he teased.

"Really?" She was miffed, keeping her hands on his shoulders instead of around him. Surrounded by the turquoise water, her eyes took on a spectacular shade of green. For a moment, he lost himself within their depths. She looked utterly ravishing, with the soaked chemise plastered to her body, her wet hair, and the droplets of water on her skin.

She pulled away from him. Her gaze dropped to his erection below the surface. "I think you are the one in need of cooling off. I hope the water helps." Turning, she began to make her way to the sh.o.r.eline. "I'll be on the blanket waiting for you, when you are ready to talk."

In a quick movement, he caught her hand and pulled her to him, trapping her in his arms. Dipping his head, he licked a water drop off her shoulder and heard her breath catch.

"I'm sorry, Angelica." The apology had risen from deep inside him. From the pit of that emotional ache he couldn't seem to vanquish. Although, what he was truly apologizing for was what was most defeating, for he found himself in that moment wishing he could give her more than he had to offer. "I don't wish your ire. I brought you here to spend time with you. Just you and I. It's a beautiful day. Why discuss things that cannot be changed? Why not simply enjoy what we have together?"

He felt delighted when she wrapped her arms around his neck. "I give of myself freely and completely to you. Without reservation. But you are holding back from me. And it's because of my station of birth."

Instantly, he sealed his mouth against hers, fearing certain words might escape him. Words he couldn't say nor take back afterwards.

Ending the kiss, he forced himself to look into her mesmerizing eyes once more. "There is more I wish to give. Last night was but a small sampling of decadent delights. We've only just begun..." His tone was full of carnal promise. Much better.

He claimed her mouth, his kiss languid yet heated. He sensed her fighting the hot impulses building between them. He couldn't let her.

"What about our talk, Simon?" she said between kisses.

"I promise before I leave for France, we will talk," he said. "But not now..." Lifting her, he then slid her s.e.x down along his stiff c.o.c.k. She softly moaned.

Stubbornly, she pulled back slightly and breathlessly said, "I'm going to hold you to your promise."

"I know. I want to make it up to you for tossing you into the water. Would that be all right, cherie?"

"That depends on what you had in mind." Though she sounded suspicious, he saw clear interest reflected in those stunning green eyes.

"I was thinking of paying 'extensive homage to your person.'" He quoted her words from the night before.

She paused as though thinking his proposition over. "I believe that would be satisfactory...as a start."

A laugh escaped him. Dieu, she had a way of enticing smiles and laughter from him. "How about if I start by telling you about a dream I had on the ship on our voyage here?"

"You wish to tell me about a dream?" By her tone, he sensed she left out the word now?

He continued to smile, unable to help himself. "An erotic dream. About you."