Page 13 of Madam Alana

My throat went dry, so I reached for the champagne anddrank, clearing the ugly feelings that retelling even bits and pieces of mystory brought forth.

“Continue, Alana. Even if it is hard. I will help carry thisweight for you,cheri.”

He couldn’t be real. No one wanted a homeless refugee who’dbeen abused in every possible way. He’d figure it out, but maybe not before I’dproved to him that I could be the perfect wife. I’d bend over backward to showmy gratitude at the new opportunities a marriage to him had already given me. Iwould figure out what it meant to be his muse and I’d keep it going as long aspossible, or until the five years were up.

“Well, unfortunately, where we ended up wasn’t a good place.I ultimately left on my own, preferring the streets of New York. There I met mybest friend, Celine. She was in the auction too.Actually, Ibelieve your friend married her this evening.”

Christophe perked up suddenly. “Oui! An associateof mine, Darren Holt, a great collector of my art, invited me on this journey.He is the reason I was at the event. Though I will admit to being surprisedthat the art we were bidding on was human beings. He assured me it was alllegal, and I’ve since sent the contract to my attorneys back in France. Theyagreed that the marriage and situation is unusual but technically legal inNevada. Thus, you should know, I, too, am taking this one step and day at atime. We are in this new relationship and adventure together, Alana. You havenothing to fear from me. I assureyou,I am anhonorable man.”

“And your associate? The one who married Celine. What abouthim?”

“I do not know him in a personal manner. He is a greatcollector of many things. And because I was blocked artistically, I thought itmight be interesting to attend an art instillation. See if it would stir mymuse to life. And there you were. A living, breathing, perfect woman with sad,soulful eyes, a lithe but curvy shape that spoke to the male in me, and an aurathat stole the very breath from my body. Just being in your presence now,moncoeur, isbringing me back to life. Do you feel the connection between us simmering underthe surface?”

“Honestly, I am feeling a lot of things I do not yetunderstand,” I admitted. Therewassomething brewing between us. Anenergy that made my nerve endings tingle. An anticipatory sprinkling of buzzingelectricity one might feel when standing on the very edge of a cliff. The windjostling you just enough to strike fear because of the risk of falling, but alsorelief in equal measure when you didn’t fall and were safe.

“Fair enough.”

“Would it be possible at some point in the future to contactyour associate so that I may check on my friend?”

“Oui. I see no problem with that. We will calltomorrow. Allow them and us to have our wedding nights, then we will see abouthow your Celine is faring. I’m sure all is well.”

He responded sweetly with extreme confidence. For the firsttime, I beamed with enough joy to light up an entire block of buildings. He wasgoing to let me talk to Celine.

Christophe gasped. “There, that expression… A thousandemperors of centuries past have fallen to their knees for the privilege of sucha response from their beloved. You honor me this day.” He took my hand, turnedit over, and placed a kiss to my palm. The weight of that single press of hislips imprinted on me. Changed me in ways I couldn’t yet decipher.

I held my breath as he lifted his head, that earthy gazemeeting mine. A thrill of excitement raced through my veins and my entire bodybecame inflamed with heat and arousal. Everything Christophe presented to mewas the exact opposite of every man I’d interacted with prior. And I realized Ihad been looking at Christophe through a dirty window, judging him based on thesins of other males who had come before.

I vowed then and there to stop doing that. If Christophesaid something to me, I’d take it at face value or ask for clarification. He’dalready earned my respect by being so forthcoming, but that didn’t mean Iwouldn’t be cautious. People had convinced me of their altruistic nature beforeonly to turn around and stab me in the back. I would give my husband thebenefit of the doubt. Innocent until proven guilty.

“I’d very much like to speak with Celine tomorrow. Thankyou, Christophe, for your continued kindness.”

Bobby set down a tray loaded with food.

“A caprese salad to start consisting of arugula, spinach,and Roma tomatoes paired with fresh mozzarella and my own homemade olive oiland balsamic dressing topped with shredded basil. And bread just out of theoven.” He set a small loaf and a serrated knife down on a cutting board.

“Looks delicious.” I admired the beautiful display as mystomach growled.

“I’ll leave you until the next course,” Bobby announced andleft as quickly as he’d arrived.

The restaurant was packed with patrons drinking andlaughing, their tables loaded with food. I could see why my husband was takenwith the place.

Christophe cut me a hunk of bread and set it on a smallplate. “Dig in. The one thing I know about Robert Marino is that he does not dothings by halves. We will need our driver to roll us out of here after we eatour fill of however many courses he has planned.”

I chuckled, and pictured us in our wedding attire, waddlingout the door patting our stuffed bellies. “A good problem to have.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” He took a huge bite of the soft,warm bread.

“Tellme about you, husband. Aboutyour life in France,” I asked, then munched on a bite of the mozzarella,holding back a moan of appreciation at the burst of flavors on my tongue.

“Let’s see. I was born and raised in France. An only childof parents who were already late in their forties when they had me. They havesince passed on. Smokers,both of them.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. Were you close with them?”

He nodded. “The first loves of my life. Great parents.Supported me in everything I wanted to do. They did very well for themselves,leaving me a fortune which was great since I preferred art over university.” Hegrinned. “However, my first gallery showing took off. Everything sold. I wasonly fifteen at the time. My parents got me representation and used theirinfluence in business to help grow my outreach. My next show also sold out inminutes for top dollar.Every lastpiece. It has beenthat way for the past ten years. Now I onlyhave tocreate a single piece and it goes for millions.”

“Wow. What kind of art do you create?” I couldn’t fathomcreating something that would sell for hundreds of dollars, let alone millions.

“Most of my focus is on large scale sculptures that arecommissioned for a specific need. The grand opening of a hotel or an operahouse. A reckless billionaire who fancies my work.” He smirked. “I also dosmaller pieces for collectors. I love to paint in all mediums when I feel theneed, though sculpting owns my soul. But, as I mentioned, over the past year I lostmy way. The art waspoof!” He let his plump lips pop while he lookeddreamily across our seats to the window featuring the courtyard view. “Then I sawmy muse and married her. And here we are.”

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