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She feels it, too, he realized, her ardor boldly evident through the revealing dress, even as he fought to control the turbulence of passion that raged within him.
He forced his mind to clear. “This is a beautiful place you have. You’ve done wonders with it.”
Noelle’s tapered eyebrows arched. “You’re familiar with the villa, monsieur?”
“Actually,” he replied in a confidential tone, “I was with Jordan when he purchased it almost ten years ago. He always had intentions of working on it, but…” His sentence drifted off. “I’m glad to see that his very beautiful wife decided to take it over.”
His dark eyes held hers a moment too long and Noelle felt lightheaded. It must be the champagne.
She cleared her throat. “It seems that you know a great deal about me, monsieur…?”
“Noelle! Noelle!”
Noelle turned around to see Braxton and Tempest coming toward her. Her face lit up when she saw Braxton approach. It had been months since she’d last seen him. After the completion of the interior architecture and the landscaping, he’d had to fly off to Morocco.
Now that both of the honored guests were present the official opening of Liaisons could commence.
Braxton embraced her in a warm hug. “It’s good to see you again, Noelle. I’m sorry to be so late, but my plane…” He gave her that smile that had imprisoned Tempest’s heart for life.
Noelle looked at her relieved girlfriend. “I told you,” Noelle admonished. She took Braxton’s arm and turned back to make introductions.
He was gone. All that remained was his erotic scent that seemed to have seeped into Noelle’s pores.
“Oh…” she muttered, a bit confused and somewhat embarrassed, looking over the heads of her guests.
“Is something wrong?” Braxton asked.
“No…I was just talking with…” She expelled a breath. “Never mind.” She smiled brightly. “Now that you’re here, I can make the announcement to open the house for the tour. That’s what’s important.”
For the next hour, Noelle, Tempest and Braxton were bombarded with congratulations and enthusiastic approval of the three-story villa.
Noelle’s jaws began to ache from the continual smile that she had carved on her mouth. But her thoughts were elsewhere. In every free moment, she subtly tried to locate the man whose image she couldn’t get off of her mind. He seemed to have vanished, and she didn’t even know his name.
“You’re completely distracted,” Tempest said, surprising Noelle with her nearness.
She laughed, embarrassed. “Is it that obvious?”
“Very.” Tempest followed Noelle’s gaze. “You’re looking for him aren’t you?”
Noelle’s shoulders slumped. “I am transparent, aren’t I?”
“Only to those that know you. So—who is he?”
Noelle turned her palms upward. “I still don’t know.”
“Excuse me? You mean that the two of you were practically undressing each other on the lawn and you don’t know who he is? You’re losing your touch.”
An underlying sadness scored her voice. “I’ve had no reason to be interested in a man in a very long time.”
“Yes, I know,” Tempest said softly, placing a comforting hand on Noelle’s bare shoulder, “but you’re a healthy, vibrant, beautiful woman. You can’t stay in hibernation forever. And you can’t use Liaisons to shield yourself from the world.”
Noelle’s voice quivered. “He’s only been gone a year. I…I just couldn’t…He was my life, my world. He…”
“He was just a man, Noelle,” Tempest said gently. “Just a man. Not the god that everyone, including you, made him out to be. I can’t believe that Jordan would want you to remain alone for the rest of your life. He groomed you to be a part of the world, not just the world that he created.”
Noelle lowered her eyes, struggling to fight back the tears that burned her eyes and seared her throat.
Her life had changed irrevocably. It was due to Jordan. Everything that she had, what she was, what she thought, was because of Jordan. He’d rescued her, brought new meaning to her life, gave her reason to want to get up everyday.
He’d turned her life around and now he was gone. He’d left her to deal with this evil, hungry world alone. To face his enemies that would just as soon help her as stab her in the back.
Five years ago, sweating in her aunt Chantal’s tiny café, darting the grubby hands of the male customers she would have never imagined that her life could have ever been any different. Not until the moment that Jordan Maxwell walked into her life. Since that day nothing in her life had ever been the same.
Forever would she recall the way he looked at her when he walked through those doors….
Chapter 2
“Noelle! Stop daydreaming,” her aunt Chantal ordered. “We have customers.”
Chantal wiped her hands on the once-white apron, and shook her head in annoyance.
“For a woman of eighteen, you sometimes act like an enfant,” she sputtered, tossing up her hands. “Get your head out of the clouds. There’s no knight waiting to rescue a poor orphan girl like you. This is your life, chère.”
Chantal marched off toward the kitchen, demanding and instructing all who came in her path.
Noelle sighed deeply, knowing all too well that her aunt was right. This was her life. Here in the bayou of New Orleans, forever at the disposal of someone else.
She knew her aunt meant well, even when her words were harsh. Chantal had immediately taken in Noelle when her mother, Vivian, had died. And Chantal had given her a home. With her father’s whereabouts unknown, Chantal became the only family Noelle had. Being Vivian’s older sister, Chantal felt it her duty to take in her niece. But not without a price.
Noelle had to drop out of school in order to work in Chantal’s café. Her aunt felt that an education was a waste of time. Once a person knew how to add, subtract and read the alphabet, school was useless. Common sense and a strong back would be how Noelle would make her way in the world.
Noelle had missed her school years. She missed her friends, she missed her youth. She felt doomed to a life of hard work and poverty.
Many nights she’d lie awake imagining beautiful clothes, a house that didn’t always smell of gumbo, and a wonderful husband who adored her. Dreams. But her aunt was right. Who would want her? She had nothing and would never be anything more than a poor, orphaned waitress.
She pulled her shoulder-length hair behind her ears and walked out of the supply room into the small café.
As usual, the dinner crowd had packed the café. Although, Chantal’s was on the outskirts of the city, patrons came from far and wide to sample the renowned cuisine.
Noelle put on her trained smile and began her routine of checking on customers and seating the incoming diners.
After seating one of her regular customers, she returned to her station at the door, and there stood Jordan Maxwell.
Immediately she knew that this man was different from all of the others. His clothing spoke of wealth, his posture indicated confidence and his smile was warm and inviting, not like the leers that she was used to.
“Bon soir, monsieur. May I help you?”
“I hope so,” he answered in a voice that vibrated through her like currents on the shore.
She felt suddenly nervous, and childlike under his steady gaze. She lowered her eyes, focusing them on her notepad.
“Will you be dining alone?” Irrationally she hoped that he was.
“Fortunately.”
Her head snapped up in question. Her face was hot with embarrassment, as if he’d read her mind. “Pardon?”
Jordan chuckled at her discomfiture while enjoying the lilt of her creole accent. “Fortunately, because I hope that you may be able to join me.”
“Oh, no, monsieur,” she mumbled, both flattered and afraid. Nervously she looked around for her aunt. “That is not possible.”
“Maybe not now. But you will. Perhaps next time,” he said, fully confident that it would be a reality.
Jordan looked at the lovely young woman and smiled. He was used to having what he wanted and from the moment he set eyes on Noelle, and saw the spark of eager intelligence in her eyes and the pride with which she wore her stained uniform, he determined that she would be his.
“In the meantime, I’d like a table and a bottle of your best wine—to toast the occasion of our meeting.”
Noelle felt her heart flutter. She didn’t know which way to look. Instead she turned and quickly guided him to a vacant table near the piano.
For the balance of the evening, she consciously avoided going near Jordan’s table. But it didn’t stop him from following her with his eyes.
Throughout the night, each time that Noelle dared to look in his direction, he raised his glass in a toast. Then, in an instant, without warning, he was gone.
Several months passed and Noelle didn’t see Jordan again. But she couldn’t seem to forget him or the way he’d made her young heart feel. Special. No one had ever done that before. Each time that she strolled through the teeming New Orleans streets, she thought she spotted him in the crowd. At night she dreamed of his face. The strong caramel features, wide dark eyes and hair that reminded her of the first sprinklings of snow.
Then, when she was beginning to believe that seeing him again was an impossibility, he reappeared one steamy night in August.
Noelle saw him standing in the doorway. A flood of heat swept through her and for several moments she stood immobile, unwilling to believe that he had returned. She willed her legs to move.
“You’re just as beautiful as I remember,” he said, his deep timbre thrilling her.
No one like him had ever called her beautiful. She smiled in response.
Her heart raced. “What brings you back after so long, monsieur?”
He took her hand in his. “I thought you’d be ready to have dinner with me now.”
Noelle felt her body tremble. She quickly looked around the café. She spotted her aunt scowling at her from the rear.
She looked up at him, her eyes begging him to understand. “Please, monsieur, my aunt…” She looked over her shoulder.
Jordan looked beyond Noelle and spotted Chantal.
“Let’s tell your aunt that you’ll be leaving.” Gently, he pulled Noelle behind him and walked up to Chantal.
That was the last day that Noelle worked in the café. Jordan had smoothly convinced Chantal that her niece had the potential to achieve wonderful things, and he was going to be sure that she did. In exchange for Noelle’s services, Jordan dutifully sent a very large check to Chantal each month, which seemed to appease her. However, it was difficult for Chantal to believe that a man like Jordan Maxwell could see any value in her meek, little niece. But if he was willing to pay for Noelle’s absence, who was she to argue? Perhaps Jordan saw something in Noelle that she, herself, had missed all of these years. She could only hope that Noelle would be happy in her new life.
For a man who had conquered every obstacle in his life, Noelle was a new challenge for Jordan. Somewhere, deep in the recesses of his soul, Jordan saw in her a part of him that was missing. Her naïveté intrigued him. She didn’t have a greedy, or pretentious bone in her body. She was unlike any woman he’d ever known. But he knew that in order to fit into his world she would have to be molded as a sculptor models clay into a work of art.
Noelle was instantly caught up in Jordan’s vision of what he wanted for her. His dream became hers. She was overwhelmed by his expectations, thrilled at the possibilities yet frightened of the doors that he intended to open for her.
“You have talents that you have yet to discover,” he’d said to her. “I intend to bring them to the forefront for all of the world to see.”
The first step in her transformation was her education. Jordan hired private tutors to help refine her speech and catch up on her studies. Studies that were conducted in the cozy apartment that he’d selected for Noelle. With that completed, he sent her to the University of Virginia, where she’d met Tempest and Braxton. Her graduate work took place in Europe, Africa, the Orient. She purchased her leather from Italy, her jewels from Africa, her silks from Hong Kong. She visited the finest haute couture houses in Paris.
Noelle didn’t have time to think about what was happening to her. She felt as though she were in some magical dream world where Jordan was the magician who could make anything happen. But Jordan was a hard taskmaster. “Can’t” was not in his vocabulary. He demanded perfection from everyone around him, and accepted no excuses for anything less. He readily used ridicule as a weapon to propel you. Ultimately you produced, if for no other reason than to prove him wrong. In the end, you achieved what you thought was impossible, and secretly you thanked Jordan. He, in turn, received your loyalty.
With no close friends nearby, and her only family hundreds of miles away, Noelle was enveloped in the cocoon that was Jordan Maxwell. She relied on him for everything.
Noelle always felt as if she were in a never-ending dream. She agreed with every suggestion, critical comment or word of effusive praise that Jordan uttered, afraid that if she ever challenged Jordan’s wishes, for her, she’d wake up from her dream and find herself back in Chantal’s café.
Her transformation took five years to complete, and in the fifth year, Jordan married his creation.
Jordan Maxwell had literally swept Noelle off of her feet and into a world that she had only imagined. Only now it was more magnificent than she’d ever dreamed. She was only beginning to see the power that Jordan wielded. With a simple phone call he could have planes, boats, cars at his disposal. With a dash of his signature he could transfer millions of dollars. By simple request, he could secure the company of politicians, diplomats, movie stars. “Everyone has a weakness, Noelle,” Jordan often told her. “Find it and you have conquered them.”
Her sheltered years in New Orleans had left her naive about the ways of the world. Even her travels across the globe were chaperoned. She never imagined how much subterfuge, envy, and viciousness that existed in Jordan’s everyday life and did not believe the rumors of darker dealings.
What she did understand, however, was that she did not truly fit into his world. All of the fine clothes, the culture, the money, the power would not change the fact that she was only a cook from a backwater café. And to Jordan’s friends and associates, she always would be.
Jordan protected her as much as possible from the gossip. She, in turn, worshipped the ground that he walked on. But deep in her heart, she wondered if Jordan truly loved her. She knew he loved what he could do for her and he loved the person that he’d created. But did he truly love her? She didn’t think so.
“I didn’t mean to upset you, Noelle,” Tempest said softly. She gently stroked her arm, pulling Noelle back from the depths of her memories.
Noelle blinked back the images. She gave Tempest a faltering smile. “I know,” she whispered. “These are my ghosts. I’ll find a way to banish them. One day.” She forced a smile. “In the meantime, I have a half dozen guests that have reservations for the opening weekend. So, shall we get them settled?”
Chapter 3
Trent moved like a caged panther around his suite, tossing his belongings around as if they were to be discarded.
Noelle St. James-Maxwell had unnerved him. That’s all there was to it. He’d never met a woman capable of doing that to him, especially without even trying.
He blew out an exasperated breath and jammed his hands in his pockets. How in the world was he supposed to accomplish what he’d come to do, if he couldn’t be in the same room with her without losing his cool? To compound the problem, once she realized who he was, he was sure she wouldn’t come within ten feet of him.
He ran his hand across his bearded chin. Perhaps he could get around that little inconvenience, he thought. At least until he won her confidence.
He stopped pacing. The wheels began to spin. He was sure that he could pull it off. All he needed was a few weeks, two months at best, and his work would be finished.
He strode across the room to the phone and picked up the elaborate Liaisons brochure that had only been distributed to the selected few. He dialed the private number.
The illuminated numbers on the bedside clock, were reflected in Noelle’s weary eyes. In little more than an hour the sun would rise across the bay. She hadn’t slept more than a few minutes all night.
Instead of succumbing to the fatigue that enveloped her, she tossed and turned, reliving the moment she’d heard of Jordan’s death. She never confided her true feelings to anyone about that moment.
She’d always been too ashamed.
No one really knew or understood her relationship with Jordan. On the surface, they appeared to be the fairy tale couple come to life. In a way, they were. They looked great together. Their goals were one. They were perfectly complementary. Yet her life was anything but a fairy tale, it was simply all that she knew.
While she respected and adored Jordan, he left her empty. She was a shell, a product of his creation. She missed something she had no name for and every so often pangs of loneliness would hit her. How many times had she questioned her reasons for remaining with Jordan? How many nights had she spent alone, unfulfilled, but too loyal to her husband to commit the unspeakable? Jordan sensed it too and inexplicably he provoked her, intentionally trying to drive her into another man’s arms.
