Picture Perfect Christmas

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“Demetria loves dogs,” she confided. “She’s not afraid of them at all. Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Ricki Fontaine. I was at your showing last night, but I didn’t get to meet you,” she said charmingly.

Chastain’s eyes left Lulu and her hand tightened on the lead. She stared into the sparkling brown eyes of the beautiful woman who’d been Philippe’s date. She felt a little faint, especially after she took a good look at the dimpled little girl in the stroller. That child was a Deveraux—there was no denying it. Was this what Philippe had been up to since she went to Europe?

Philippe awoke with the alacrity of a dead man about to walk. He’d had a rough night. Dreams of Chastain had started almost the moment he closed his eyes. It was as if his subconscious had deliberately picked the most profoundly sensual dream possible, the one about their reunion in New Orleans after Katrina. He’d heard she was back, but he hadn’t seen her. He went out looking for her and knew instinctively where she would be. When he found her forlorn figure he took her in his arms and couldn’t let her go. They had gone back to his house and made love for hours. It was some of the best lovemaking he’d ever had. Nothing had compared to it since and he knew nothing ever would.

He was the one who’d introduced Chastain into the art of making love. She was an apt and eager pupil, surprisingly uninhibited and natural. She had taught him as much as he taught her, not from experience but from her heart. He could never forget that he was her first lover. She understood at once when he started calling her Cerise. It was because he treasured her gift to him above all else. And she would probably never speak to him again after the way he’d behaved last night. A cold shower seemed his just reward for his colossal stupidity.

After he had showered, shaved and dressed, he joined Antoine in the kitchen. The housekeeper was there, but Antoine was doing the cooking. He always made breakfast for his family and he insisted on doing the same for Philippe. “A cup of coffee isn’t going to give you the energy you need for the day. A good meal and a good woman are what you need. I can make you a delicious omelet, but the woman, that’s up to you,” he said with a rakish grin.

Philippe decided to let that one pass. He’d had a long dream about the perfect woman, but he wasn’t about to share that information with Antoine, no matter how much he liked the guy. “It’s quiet in here,” he observed.

Antoine agreed. “Yes, it’s like a tomb here without my little angels. Ricki took them to school. She refuses to leave it to the driver. She says it’s her responsibility and her pleasure.” He took another sip of the espresso he’d prepared and looked over at Philippe, who was checking his BlackBerry.

“You seem to be in a better mood today,” he observed.

“I think I am,” Philippe replied. “I owe you for listening to me vent. You may have prevented me from making a grave mistake.”

Antoine looked pleased. “So you’ve decided to let it go? No lawsuit?”

“I don’t think it’s going to come to that. I have something else in mind. A mutually satisfactory compromise is what I have planned.”

“An excellent idea. I’m sure your friend will agree to it. It’s a good solution.”