Page 22 of The Rancher's Amnesia Bride

"I mean it, ma femme. Konstantin already made me feel like I know no better than a horny teenager," Philippe muttered in self-disgust, "when I was forced to tell him this morning why you had passed out." His wife giggled at this, but Philippe was still feeling slightly disgruntled. "And thanks to your alfresco request, my friend is now convinced I have lost all common sense since marrying you."

Charlee-Mae could no longer keep herself from grinning. Basically, what he was saying was that Dr. Manolis believed she had her husband wrapped around her finger. Wasn't he?

She saw Philippe's gaze start to narrow, and she quickly wiped the grin off her face and sought to distract him with a mournful shake of her head. "I'm so sorry, mon Philippe. I didn't mean to have you suffer a lecture from your friend." Inspiration struck, and she said, "But maybe I can make you feel better?"

Philippe was startled when his wife suddenly rushed towards him.

"I shall kiss your bad feelings away," Charlee-Mae announced.

And so she did...by suddenly bending down to press a quick little kiss to his trousers, and right on top of the telltale bulge of his manhood.

Nom de Dieu!

It was the simplest and cutest little thing, but it still aroused him...even as it also made Philippe throw his head back with a laugh.

His wife straightened up, her amber eyes aglow once again with mischief. "Feeling better now?"

Philippe shook his head "I think you need to do it again, but this time sans clothing?"

Charlee-Mae would have loved to say yes, oh yes...but with her stomach suddenly growling, all she could do was smile sheepishly. "Can I take a rain check?"

She expected him to laugh, but instead Philippe was swiftly urging her out to the balcony even as he scolded her for not informing him she was that hungry. The lecture continued as he started heaping food on her plate, but throughout it, all she could think about was how she would have hated every word if it were Landon or Charlotte doing the scolding.

But because this was her Philippe, and anything her husband did was adorable—-

This only meant he loved her so very much, she thought happily, and she therefore didn't mind if he were to scold her every day of their lives.

When Philippe finally settled in his seat, it was Charlee-Mae's turn to talk, and Philippe surprised himself by answering his wife's seemingly endless stream of questions without feeling impatient or irritated.

No, his older brother did not work for the company, and it was because Pierre had passed away seven years ago.

No, Greta and Pierre had not met at work, but instead the three of them had grown up together.

No, she had not yet met his mother, but she would soon, since Sandra was also here in Jackson Hole.

In truth, most of the things she was asking about, she would have already known if she had not lost her memories, and if it had been anyone else asking these questions, Philippe would have long considered this a waste of time.

But he did not.

Because, truthfully, he could not remember having this much fun—-

"Who's who?"

—-and one of the reasons for this was her wonderfully horrible French accent, which Philippe still found strangely cute...and exquisitely arousing.

Charlee-Mae looked at her husband hopefully. "Did I get it right?" The word she was trying to pronounce was French for 'happy', and it was the name Philippe had chosen for his company's new line of liquor chocolate.

"Désolé, mais non." I'm sorry, but no.

"Then..." Charlee-Mae refused to feel defeated, and so she tried again, saying, "Who's whose?"

Philippe's lips twitched. "It's Heureuse."

"Ah!" Her eyes lit up. "Who wuss?"

"Ah, bien...I am sure you will get it in no time."

She made a face. "In other words, I still suck."

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