The Flower Shop
~* PAGE 2 *~
By:
Shelayne

CHAPTER 6-11

CHAPTER 6

They drove away from the shop in his silver sports car and headed to the Valentine's Ball. The sun had just set, leaving its last golden rays to illuminate the night sky. The city that seemed asleep during the day began to awaken as neon lights glowed brilliantly from the buildings. Sports cars and limousines crowded the streets as the wealthy came out to play. And here she was, one of them, thought Isabelle. She looked over to handsome escort. Once again, Antoine seemed lost in thought so Isabelle decided to draw him out into a conversation.

"So, what do you do for work that allows you to dress well and drive a fancy sports car?" she asked.

Startled, Antoine looked at her, then back to the road before replying. He couldn't risk telling her the truth, for he was sure she'd cancel this evening and he needed her for this masquerade to complete his mission. So what should he tell her? He decided to go the safe route.

"I'm a businessman for a company in Italy. I represent them here in the U.S."

"What type of a company?"

Good question, he thought. His mind worked quickly. "My company represents many things, from clothing to house wares to automobiles. I go to a business and try to sell them our line."

"Oh. A salesman."

Antoine grimaced. "You could say that." He decided to turn the conversation away from himself. "And you run a flower shop?"

Isabelle smiled. "Actually, all three of us run it but it's my grandmother's shop. My grandparents have owned that shop for the past 25 years. They bought it when my granddad retired from the aircraft industry."

"What was he, a pilot?" Antoine asked.

"No, he was an electrical engineer, designing the electrical systems of passenger jets. He loved airplanes" sighed Isabelle.

Antoine noticed the wistfulness in her voice. "You miss him, don't you?" he asked softly.

Isabelle's eyes started to tear up unexpectedly so she turned and looked out her window. "It's been over a year, but yes, I still miss him very much."

Antoine, in a moment of caring, took his right hand off the gearshift and placed it on her knee. He squeezed gently as he looked at her. "I'm sorry to have made you sad".

Isabelle looked down at his hand on her knee and her mind switched rapidly from thinking about her grandfather, to the feel of him touching her. She tried not to stammer as she replied. "It's okay, you didn't. I miss him but I have good memories." She gave him a smile, which he returned, and then he concentrated on the road once again. Isabelle waited for the moment he would remove his hand, for then she would be able to breathe properly again, but Antoine seemed content to leave his hand where it was. She was glad that it was fairly dark outside, for she was certain that her face was flushed from his contact with her.

He removed his hand as he downshifted to turn into the parking lot of the hotel where the ball was taking place. He pulled up to the front and a valet opened his door for him. Another valet began to open Isabelle's door when Antoine quickly walked around, stopping him. "Thank you, but I shall take care of her" and he gave the valet a twenty.

The valet bowed. "Very good sir" and stepped away from the car. Antoine opened the door for Isabelle and helped her out, shutting the door behind her. He hooked her arm through his, gave her an encouraging smile, and escorted her into the hotel.

Isabelle looked at the splendor of the hotel lobby, noting its 1920's stylized architecture, with large palm trees and full-length mirrors lining the gold-trimmed hallways. They followed the sound of a multitude of people in conversation and found the great hall where the ball was. Antoine handed his invitation to the host at the door, who checked it against his master list. Two security guards with metal detector wands passed over each of them quickly and then gestured them on inside.

Once inside, Isabelle was in awe of her surroundings. Round tables with chairs had been set up all around the room leaving the middle open as a dance floor. An actual swing band was against the far end of the room and couples were already dancing to the lively music. The tables were decorated with red and white roses surrounding a candle for centerpieces, with crystal glassware and sterling silverware. The people themselves were elegantly dressed, the women in floor length evening gowns, their jewelry flashing in the light, and their hair perfectly coiffed. The men wore tuxedos, some of them old-fashioned in their penguin attire, others choosing coloured vests to match their partners dress. Isabelle took a quick glance in one of the mirrors and saw that together, she and Antoine made a striking pair, he being dark-haired and olive skinned, to compliment her red hair and fair skin. She smiled as she took confidence in her appearance and walked with Antoine as he guided her over to a group of people.

Antoine's eyes searched through the people looking for the Kints. Cavendish had supplied him with a picture of the couple so he knew who he was looking for. He spied them off to one side and stopped for a moment to think of how he could make the Kints acquaintance. Thomas Kints political platform was based mainly on restricting large corporations from getting so big that they shut out the smaller competition. Which is what Cavendish and his group objected to. Antoine had already told Isabelle he was a businessman so he should be able to interject himself into their conversation, thus gaining a foot in the door of the Kints' lives.

He guided Isabelle over to the Kints, not noticing the looks she was getting from other gentlemen in the room. Isabelle didn't notice either, so entranced was she with the entire atmosphere. They walked up to the circle of guests surrounding the Kints and Antoine waited for his opportunity to speak up. One of the guests was speaking to Mr. Kint.

"Well, Thomas, you're sure to win the pre-election against Hardcourt. You definitely won the open debate."

Another gentleman spoke up. "With your fight against large corporation mergers against his public safety platform, well, you made him look like an idiot!" The circle of people laughed.

Thomas laughed along with them, then became serious. "Actually, Hardcourt's public safety issues, especially on cell phone use while driving, are a valid platform. He made some good points."

Antoine decided this was a good opportunity to jump in. "But large company mergers are taking over America, swallowing up the small businessman and rendering him penniless."

All eyes turned towards the deep, accented voice. Kint took a step forward and held out his hand to Antoine, smiling. "I'm sorry, but I don't believe we've met."

Antoine took his hand in a firm grasp and turned on the charm. "I am Antoine Laconte, from Italy and I represent a small company over there. I have heard your political speeches Mr. Kint and I agree with them. It is especially difficult for my company, which is desperately trying to break in to the American market." Antoine looked at the woman on Thomas' arm.

Thomas looked at his wife then back to Antoine. "Mr. Laconte, this is my wife, Marilyn." Antoine took her proffered hand and kissed the back of it as he bowed.

"Mrs. Kint, a pleasure. May I introduce Isabelle Martin?"

Isabelle extended her hand, first to Thomas, then to Marilyn. "How do you do?"

"Miss Martin, pleasure to have you here" said Thomas.

"Thank you" replied Isabelle.

"Have you found a place at one of the tables yet for yourselves?" Marilyn asked Isabelle.

Antoine quickly replied for her. "We have not yet chosen our spots. I think it best we do that before we are relegated to the back of the dining hall" he said with a beguiling smile to Marilyn.

Marilyn turned to her husband. "Thomas, aren't there two places left at our table?" Her husband looked down with adoration into his wife's eyes, then back to Antoine and Isabelle. "I believe there are. We would be delighted if you would sit at our table." Murmurs of agreement came from the others standing around them, encouraging Antoine.

"We would be honoured to sit with you, Mr. and Mrs. Kint."

"Please, we're not quite that formal here! Call me Thomas and this is Marilyn."

"You are most gracious" replied Antoine with a nod of his head. Just then a loud gong sounded and the MC for the evening stepped up to the microphone.

"Ladies and gentlemen, if you will all find your seats, we shall begin serving dinner momentarily." The small group began to break up as each couple proceeded towards their dinner table. Antoine put his hand at the small of Isabelle's back as they followed the Kints to their table. Once there, he pulled her chair out for her, helping her in, then taking a seat to her right. Thomas and Marilyn sat directly across from them at the eight place-setting table. Antoine realized he couldn't do much seducing across a table in a crowded room, so he settled back to watch and wait.

Marilyn Kint was pretty in her own way, but nothing like the glamorous, wealthy women he was used to. She had light brown hair, done up in a French twist and a grey evening gown with silver trim. She had grey eyes, a short nose and a small rosebud mouth, that turned up at the corners. Thomas and Marilyn together basically looked like the 1990's counterpart to the Cleavers, family-oriented, suburbanites on a political trail to the senate. He watched them as they spoke with other people at their table, noticing the few minute's in-between times they took to whisper to each other and look into each other's eyes. They were very much in love, which was going to make his job that much tougher. As dinner was served, Antoine answered questions put to him by Thomas and some of the other gentlemen at the table, sharing their political views and spouting his own concerns about his poor, fabled company.

Dinner was a several course affair and by the time dessert came, Isabelle was certain she'd done something wrong again, for Antoine had hardly said two words to her during the entire meal. She had kept in conversation with the gentleman on her left, leaving Antoine to his thoughts, until she could speak with him privately. She wondered if he had regretted asking her out. Well, it was too late now, she sighed inwardly. He had asked and she had accepted. Now they just had to get through the rest of the night.

Antoine had decided through the course of the meal that, since there was nothing he could do with Marilyn this evening, he would play up his phony relationship with Isabelle, to lure the Kints into a false sense of security in regards to him, hoping for a private invitation to their house. He watched and listened to Isabelle throughout dinner as she chatted with the others at the table. She was very knowledgeable about a variety of things and answered questions put to her with intelligence and passion. Dessert was almost finished and couples had already gone back to the dance floor as the band began a slow number. He chose this moment to show the Kints just how devoted he was to 'his woman'.

Isabelle was laughing in response to a joke one of the gentlemen had just told when she felt Antoine gently grab her elbow. She turned and looked up at him. "Yes?" she said.

Antoine slid his hand from her elbow down to her hand and took it in his own, lifting it to his lips. He placed his lips on the back of her hand, giving it a lingering kiss, watching an array of emotions pass in Isabelle's eyes. He noticed her increased breathing as her eyes stayed focused on his lips and he smiled. His fingers gently played with hers as he spoke to her. "Dance with me."

It was more of a command than a request but Isabelle didn't mind. Isabelle risked a quick glance over at the Kints and noticed them both watching and smiling at her. She turned back to Antoine, smiling big and rose as he did. He put his arm around her waist as they walked onto the dance floor. Antoine took her right hand in his left and the hand that was already on her waist brought her into him and they began moving to the music. Isabelle put her free hand up around to the back of his neck, her fingers lightly playing with his dark locks and smiled at him. He smiled back, and then brought her so close to him that their bodies brushed against each other. Their faces were cheek to cheek and she closed her eyes as she breathed in his scent. She was in heaven.

As they danced, Antoine tried not to think about the seduction of Mrs. Kint. He closed his eyes in frustration as he thought about this blackmail deal. He hated it. But his hands were tied. He had to follow through and get it over with as soon as possible so he could get back to his life. He put the sordid affair from his mind by concentrating on the music. As his mind cleared of thoughts, his other senses took over, reminding him that he was holding a woman in his arms. He could smell Isabelle's faint perfume, a light blend of flowers and musk, mixing with her own scent and he found it pleasing. He could feel her relaxing against his body. He was barely conscious of letting go of her hand so that he could put both of his arms around her; it seemed so natural. As they stepped to the slow music, he tightened his arms around her and she gave a small, audible sigh, resting her chin on his shoulder. Physical reactions took over as he moved his face gently against hers, his lips eventually finding her ear. He kissed it with feather-light kisses, which made her arch her back, trying to press herself against him even more. He could feel her breasts against his chest, her hips against his and their thighs touch as they swayed in time to the music. His mouth moved against her ear. "Belle...Belle...." he whispered and she moaned his name in response. Instinct began to take over as he felt the passion stir deep within him. He moved one of his hands to cup her chin as he leaned back from her to look into her eyes. Suddenly, in that moment, it was no charade. He found himself wanting her. Her dark eyes reflected his same emotion and as the music faded, he closed the gap between their lips. Just before their lips could touch, he felt a tap on his shoulder and turned to look. There stood Thomas and Marilyn, and Antoine snapped back into the charade, the moment gone.

"Do you mind if I cut in?" asked Thomas. The band started a waltz number as Antoine replied. "Of course not" he said with a smile and stepped away from Isabelle. Thomas took Isabelle in his arms and waltzed her away, leaving Antoine alone with Marilyn. He couldn't believe his luck. Antoine stepped up to Marilyn.

"Your husband has deprived me of my partner. Would you care to dance until he returns her to me?" asked Antoine.

Marilyn smiled. "Of course I wouldn't mind" and Antoine whisked her onto the floor.

Isabelle smiled up at her new partner as they danced, but inside she was acutely aware of a very missed opportunity with Antoine. He had almost kissed her. It had been so long since she'd been kissed, and decently kissed at that. She could hardly believe how she had responded to Antoine's subtle movements; her desire for him had risen quickly. She smiled a secret smile for she knew that he had wanted her in that moment also. She had felt his hot breath on her neck as his hands had roamed across her backside, had felt his desire through their clothing. A small sigh of longing escaped her and her dance partner looked at her.

"Are you all right?" he asked with genuine concern in his voice.

Isabelle recovered mentally and smiled up at him. "I'm fine. In fact, I'm having such a wonderful time, I don't want it to end."

"Yes, it has been a very relaxing evening for us. The political road is a rocky one and it makes you thankful for these brief respites."

"I just wish I had more time to get to know you and your wife better. It's so refreshing to see truly honest people running for office. And your political platform strikes close to home with me" said Isabelle.

Thomas raised an eyebrow. "Oh? In what way?"

"Well, I run a small business and we have a devil of a time trying to keep up with the competition."

"What kind of business do you run?"

"A flower shop."

He gave a small laugh. "Well, I would guess that is a very competitive business, especially on a day like today." He grew thoughtful for a moment as the music ended and they stood there together. "You know, I would like to speak to you more about this and get your views on the problems of a small business, but this is not the time and place. Are you free later on this week for like, oh, say, dinner on Thursday night?"

Isabelle was pleasantly shocked. "Are you serious?"

"Of course. You and your significant other, of course."

"I, that is...we..." Isabelle was interrupted for Antoine and Marilyn had finished dancing and had come up behind her when Thomas had asked. Antoine spoke up for them. "We would be delighted to have dinner with you" he said as he put his arm possessively around Isabelle's waist. Likewise, Marilyn had moved over to Thomas, who did the same.

"Good then, it's settled. The two of you shall come over to our house for dinner on Thursday at 7 p.m. Is that okay with you, love?" he asked his wife. She smiled. "That sounds perfect."

The Kints moved away to talk to some of the other guests and Antoine looked down at Isabelle. Here he had been trying figure out some way to get themselves invited into the Kint home, and Isabelle had done all the work! Maybe luck would be with him and he could get this job done in a shorter amount of time. His dancing with Marilyn had gone well. She had responded to his subtle charms as they had talked. Not that he had seen any desire for him in her eyes, but that would come. He was confident of that much. He had yet to find a woman with morals or respectability that couldn't be seduced.

He took Isabelle by the hand and led her on to the dance floor. They had just started to dance when another man tapped him on the shoulder and asked to cut in. Antoine bowed to them and backed away, content to watch things from the sidelines. He walked over to a marble column, leaning against it as he watched the couples. The Kints were in deep conversation with some other politicians and Isabelle was gliding around the dance floor in the arms of yet a different gentleman. He watched the animation in her face as she spoke with her partner, the flirtatious glances as she looked up at him from under her eyelashes and he found a stab of jealousy rise up within him. He tried looking away from her, tried looking at the other women in the room. He recognized a couple of them, for they had used his services, but if they had noticed him, they gave no sign of it. Probably couldn't acknowledge him in this crowd or they'd lose face with their husbands. This was a no-nonsense type of social function. There would be no playing around by anyone here tonight.

His eyes kept straying back to Isabelle. He watched her twirl about the room, her dress giving him glimpses of her shapely legs as it flung out from her body. Suddenly, he found himself looking at her in a different way, as his eyes slowly traveled over her body. She was not his usual type of client, not in personality or looks. Her looks were...real, not plastic. Her character and emotions were honest, not phony. Maybe that was why he kept watching her. Once again, she had changed dance partners and waltzed towards him when he decided he'd had enough. Some emotion that he couldn't quite put his finger on made him walk up to the dancing couple and cut in. Isabelle smiled big, her eyes sparkling as he took her in his arms and continued the waltz. From that moment on, Antoine refused to relinquish her company to anyone else who tried to cut in.

Chapter 7

It was late when they said their goodbyes to the Kints, promising to see them in a couple of days, and Antoine escorted Isabelle out of the hotel and to his waiting sports car. Isabelle watched the hotel fade from view as they drove away, thinking back on the evening. Her doubts about her ability to blend in with this particular crowd of people had disappeared as she conversed with the other politicians and businessmen. She had been able to hold her own and present her opinions in a highly literate fashion. She had truly felt like the belle of the ball with so many men wanting to dance with her. And the highlight of her evening was when Antoine wouldn't let anyone else dance with her but himself. She smiled at that and looked over to him. Her smile faded as she noticed a slight frown on his face. She looked out the front window, thinking for a moment, then turned back to him.

"Have I done something to upset you?"

He turned to her as if noticing for the first time she was in the car with him. "What?" he asked.

"All three times that we've been together in the car today, you've hardly said anything to me and I was just wondering if it was something I did or said."

He looked at her and then back to the road. "It's not you at all" he said. "My...business is not going well at the moment and I'm concerned about it." He smiled at her then, a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, thought Isabelle.

"Are you sure?" she asked.

"I'm sure" came the short reply.

"Well, as long as you don't have second thoughts about having asked me out earlier today. I mean, I wouldn't want to be a burden to you..."

"Isabelle, stop!" he snapped. "I told you it has nothing to do with you." Isabelle looked at him a moment, then turned away, a hurt look on her face. Antoine swore silently to himself and they continued the drive in silence. He was torn between the desire to tell her the truth or to keep silent. If he told her, he would lose everything he had gained that evening, and he didn't have the luxury of time to build it back up again. But if he kept silent, he could finish this vile job and get on with his lifestyle again. Except that, when this was over, she would know what he was and, for some reason, he was having a problem this. He drove on in frustrated silence, knowing he had erred when he snapped at her, and tried to find a way to make it up to her. He couldn't lose her now. The Kints were expecting both of them on Thursday.

He pulled up in front of the flower shop and stopped the car. Isabelle opened her door and practically leaped out of the car. Antoine swore under his breath and jumped out after her. He caught up with her at the door to the shop, grabbing her arm and swinging her around to face him. She put her hands against his chest, trying to push away from him. "Let me go!" she cried. He put his hands on her arms, holding her firmly to him until she stopped fighting him. Her head was lowered as she finally stood still, breathing hard.

"Belle, look at me." She kept her head down, not wanting to look at him. He put a hand under her chin and forced her head up but she kept her eyes downcast. "Belle, I said look at me" he commanded firmly. Something in his voice made her obey and she looked at him, fire flashing from her eyes. He cupped her face with one hand, his thumb tenderly stroking her cheek. "I'm sorry I snapped at you. It was uncalled for. My problems with my business are not your fault and yet I took it out on you. I ask you to forgive me."

The fire slowly died from Isabelle's eyes as she listened to his deep voice. The tension left her body as his thumb continued its soothing motion. She saw the concern in his eyes as he patiently awaited her answer. She sighed. "I'm sorry too. My Irish temper flares up easily sometimes." She gave a chagrined look and he smiled back at her, catching both of her hands in his. Isabelle continued. "Thank you for the lovely evening. I had a wonderful time, in fact, it's been the best Valentine's date I've ever had."

"I'm glad" replied Antoine.

"But what do I do about the dress? And where are my things?" asked Isabelle.

"The dress is rented, so I'll pick it up from you tomorrow when I drop your things off. The...ah...undergarments...are yours to keep."

Isabelle blushed. "Thank you". They both stood silent for a moment, lost in embarrassment. Isabelle broke the silence first. "Well, I'd better get going. It's late. I'll see you tomorrow."

Antoine stepped forward to kiss her on the lips, but Isabelle stepped back and held out her hand. "Goodnight Antoine."

Surprised, but recovering quickly, Antoine took her hand in his, lifting it to his lips. "Goodnight, my Belle" he said as he pressed his lips to the back of her hand. She gave him a brilliant smile, unlocked the shop door and walked through.

Isabelle locked the door behind her and leaned against it. What a fool she had been just then! All night long she had wanted him to kiss her, to feel his full lips on hers and when he tried, she had run away! She wanted to beat her head against the wall in frustration. She didn't turn on any lights as she slowly made her way over behind the counter and to the stairwell. She had two consoling thoughts; she would get to see him tomorrow when he came for the dress and then there was Thursday night's dinner with the Kints. She shook her head at herself as she ascended the stairs to the apartment above. Tomorrow morning her grandmother would bug her for all the details until she knew everything that happened but that was all right with Isabelle. She could always talk to her grandmother about anything and usually she had good advice. What she needed now was advice on how she could capture the attention of a man like Antoine and keep it.

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Antoine put his hands in his pockets as he slowly walked back to his car. He was still in shock from her polite but definite refusal to let him kiss her goodnight. That had never happened to him before and he wasn't sure what to think about it. He knew she was attracted to him, had seen it in her eyes several times that evening. He knew he had angered her on the way home, but he had apologized, hadn't he? So what was it? He got into his car and started it up as he continued to think about it. He pulled away from the curb and headed home as his thoughts went round and round, and still, he came up with nothing. He finally arrived back at his apartment, thinking about the day's events. It seemed like a year ago since he had picked up Ms. Garrison from the airport, and in reality it had been that morning. He let himself into his apartment, turning on a single light in the living room as he made his way over to the bar, shedding his tuxedo jacket as he went. He undid his cufflinks and rolled up his sleeves before mixing himself a drink. As he poured out a glassful of whiskey over ice, his thoughts turned once more to Isabelle. He finally decided that she just wasn't his type, which was just as well. He couldn't afford to become entangled emotionally with anyone at this point in time. Eventually, she would find out his real line of work and he was certain that she wouldn't have anything more to do with him after that.

He unbuttoned his vest with one hand as he carried his drink over to the couch, setting it down on the end table to remove his vest. He unbuttoned the first few buttons of his shirt, then sat down and took a sip of his drink. He leaned back as the first shot of alcohol hit him, closing his eyes as his head rested against the back of the couch. His mind wandered back to his first dance with Isabelle that night and he smiled as he thought about it. He remembered the smell of her perfume and the feel of her body through the velvet material as they had moved together. She had wanted him then. He had heard her moan his name as his subtle foreplay ministrations worked their magic. His eyes opened as he realized that her reactions to him had made him want her also. He took another drink as he thought about that aspect. He had actually wanted to make love to her. How long had it been since he had wanted to make love to a woman? Women had been paying him for sex for so many years, that the novelty of wanting those perfect bodies had long since worn off. Now it was nothing but a job. He did what they paid him to do, which was to please them, not himself. He wondered for a moment what it would be like to bed Isabelle, to have her naked body writhe underneath him as he explored her with his eyes, his hands, and his mouth....

Antoine shook himself awake. He shouldn't be thinking about it because it wasn't going to happen. He needed to concentrate on his seduction of Marilyn Kint; that was all that mattered right now, for he refused to go to jail. Thursday night would be the deciding factor. He should be able to progress in his seduction of Marilyn on that night. He had to. If he couldn't, he would have to go back to Cavendish and ask for more time. If only he could get the negatives away from Cavendish. That would solve everything for him.

His phone rang just then but he decided not to answer it. He listened as the message played and thought it would probably be a good idea to change it from sounding like a voice from a 1-900 number to something more businesslike, at least for the next couple of weeks. He listened to the caller as she left her message. Thank goodness it was only Miss Audrey, asking how the evening went. He would call her tomorrow. He walked over to the machine and re-recorded his message to let his clients know that he would be unavailable for the next couple of weeks and to call him back then. He was pleased with himself for making it sound professional. If Isabelle just happened to call him, she would never know that he was a gigolo. He sighed as he turned out the light and walked into his bedroom, finally giving in to the sleep that was threatening to claim him.

Chapter 8

"I can't believe you didn't let him kiss you, Belle!" said grandmother as she stabbed another flower into the arrangement she was working on. Both Isabelle and grandmother were at the prep table, putting flower arrangements together for the day's deliveries. It had been a slow morning, which was fine with Isabelle after the frantic rush they'd had yesterday. She had told grandmother about last night, everything from the sensual dance to their argument.

"Well, grandma, I can't believe I didn't let him kiss me either" sighed Isabelle. "I had the perfect opportunity when we said goodnight and I didn't take it."

Grandmother gave her a sideways look. "Well, next time the opportunity presents himself, don't wait for him to kiss you. You kiss him."

Isabelle stopped what she was doing. "What? You mean, you think I should make the first move? Grandma, I couldn't do that!"

"Why not? I did."

Isabelle's eyebrows shot up. "What?"

Grandmother smiled big. "That's how I got your grandfather."

"I never knew that! Tell me about it" said Isabelle.

Grandmother started working on a new arrangement, cutting and trimming the different types of flowers as she spoke. "We had been friends for a year, ever since he and his family had moved here from Arizona. Your grandfather used to walk home with me after school. He just lived around the block from me, so it was no big deal. Sometimes he would come over to my house to study, or sometimes I'd go over to his house. One particular afternoon, he had come over to my house and we were studying on the living room floor. Dad was at work and mom was down the street doing some sewing for a neighbor. We had finished our homework and were listening to the radio. I was sitting in a chair and your grandfather was lying on the floor, with his hands behind his head and his eyes closed. He looked so adorable, just lying there, that I got up and knelt down beside him and kissed him on the lips."

"Grandma!" exclaimed Isabelle. "I don't believe it!"

A slight blush rose in grandmother's cheeks as she remembered the moment. "I couldn't help it. The moment was there, and I took it. The rest is history."

"Oh, grandma, I don't know that I could ever do that with Antoine."

"Why not? He's a man and you're a woman. I see no problem."

Isabelle tried to explain her thoughts to grandmother. "It's just that...he's in such a different world than I am. I mean, did you see his car? And his clothes? He may be a businessman, but he's got money. And I saw his girlfriend, or rather, his ex-girlfriend. She was beautiful, glamorous, obviously she had money, I mean, she was everything that I'm not."

Grandmother finished up her order and started to clean the prep table. "You're selling yourself short. Have you ever considered the fact that maybe he's looking for something different? I understand what you're trying to say, sweety. He's a very handsome man, could probably have anyone he wanted, so why you, you wonder. I'll tell you why. Because he can see past the shallowness of glamour to find someone real. He's a decent man and I think you have a bias."

Isabelle started to put the unused flowers back in the cooler. "What are you talking about?"

"You think that handsome men only go for beautiful women, and don't get me wrong, I'm not saying you're not beautiful, because you are."

"Grandma...." began Isabelle.

"No, let me finish" grandmother interrupted. "So in your mind, you think that Antoine is shallow and superficial and that's what kept you from letting him kiss you last night. You think he's not good enough for you."

Isabelle's mouth hung open as she tried to formulate a response. "Grandma, that's not true" she finally said.

"Isn't it? You think about it" and she walked off to greet a customer who had just entered a shop.

Isabelle mulled over what her grandmother had said as she finished cleaning the prep table and put the delivery orders in the cooler. Was she biased? She didn't think so. But her grandmother had a point. She felt like she wasn't good enough for him physically, which in turn meant that she thought he was only interested in outer beauty. She grimaced as she realized her grandmother was right. She was hung up on physical beauty, even Antoine's physical beauty and really hadn't given him a chance. They needed to get to know one another better and see if there were any deeper emotions, besides the physical. But how could she accomplish this? She would see him briefly today and then at the Kint's tomorrow evening. But then what? How could she keep his interest in her?

She walked over to her grandmother and helped her finish up the arrangement for the customer waiting at the counter. She put the ribbon on it and her grandmother handed it to the customer.

"Thank you and call again" said her grandmother as the customer left the shop.

"Grandma, what would you do if you were in my place?" asked Isabelle.

Grandma took both of Isabelle's hands in her own. "Belle, I can't tell you what to do. You're going to have to figure this out yourself. Why don't you try being patient and see what fate has in store for you? But, when you see him these next couple of days, if you find you like him and he likes you, then I say go for it. For there is nothing worse in life than regret, and if you regret a missed opportunity, it will haunt you for the rest of your life."

Isabelle gave her grandmother a hug. "Thanks grandma, for your advice." Isabelle put the matter from her mind as several other customers entered the shop.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


It was early afternoon when Kathleen came bounding into the shop. Isabelle had just hung up the phone and turned to see a big smile on her little sister's face.

"Hi Belle!"

"Hey, kiddo, how was school?"

"Great!"

Isabelle smiled mischievously. "So, how was your 'date' last night?" she asked, winking at grandmother.

"Belle! Don't tease me!"

Isabelle laughed. "So tell me, what happened?"

Kathleen plopped down on a stool after getting her usual Pepsi out of the cooler. "Well, we went over to his house and I gave him my valentine."

"Did he like it?"

Kathleen took a drink of her Pepsi. "Yes, he did. Then we went to the movies and we sat together and grandma sat a few rows up from us and we shared a big thingy of popcorn."

Isabelle gasped in mock dismay. "Oh no! You shared popcorn? I hope you didn't get any boy-germs from touching the same popcorn that Ricky touched!"

Kathleen snorted. "Well, I hope you didn't get any boy-germs from touching Mr. Italy."

Isabelle laughed. "Don't worry, I don't think I did."

A semi-serious expression crossed Kathleen's face. "Belle, you didn't wear that little sun-dress to the fancy dinner, did you?"

Isabelle grinned. "No, I didn't."

"Then what did you wear?"

"Well, he rented an evening gown for me."

Kathleen's eyes went wide. "He did? Where is it? I wanna see it!"

Isabelle pointed by the stairwell. "It's hanging over there, under the plastic."

Kathleen jumped off the stool and walked over to the hanging garment, finding the opening and running her hand across the green velvet dress. "Oooh, this feels nice! Do you get to keep it?"

"No, kiddo, I don't. Antoine is going to pick it up sometime this afternoon and return it."

"Oh. Too bad. I bet you looked great in it."

Isabelle smiled. "Thanks, babe, I think I looked fairly decent in it. Well, I better get the van loaded". Isabelle began taking flower arrangements from the cooler to the van while Kathleen went to greet a new customer. She got the van loaded and set out on her deliveries to be done as quickly as she could. It didn't take long, since there weren't very many deliveries that day. She came back to the shop, fretting as the afternoon passed quickly and still, no Antoine. She looked up at the clock. It was 4:30. She turned to grandmother. "Grandma, I've got to get going to class. I don't know where Antoine is, but if he shows up, the dress and shoes are right here."

"Alright, sweety, you have a good class, okay?" Grandmother smiled.

"I will." Isabelle took off her apron, grabbed the keys to the van and walked out the back door.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


Antoine was fairly flying as he drove his sports car recklessly through the streets. He'd been working out his frustrations at the gym and time had slipped away from him before he realized that the flower shop would close soon. He still had to return Isabelle's things to her and pick up the dress, not to mention the fact that he wanted to make sure they were still on for tomorrow night. She had quite a little temper, he chuckled to himself. An honest temper, unlike the pouty moods of the women he usually serviced. He had found it a challenge last night, when he had tried to hold her still, to keep from being beat on. She was no slight, little thing, trying to work her womanly wiles on him. She had been good and angry with him, and rightfully so. But she had finally succumbed to his will and stopped fighting him. Now, if he had only been able to kiss her goodnight. That would have assured him of their dinner plans tomorrow night.

He roared up to the curb in front of the flower shop and looked down at his watch. It was 5:45. Good, they were still open. He got out of the car, carrying a bag full of Isabelle's clothing and walked into the shop. He saw grandmother and walked over to her. "Good afternoon, Mrs. Martin" he said with a smile.

"Oh, hello Antoine, and please, call me Rebecca. You just missed Isabelle."

Antoine frowned slightly. "She's not here?"

Grandmother walked over to get the evening gown and bring it back to him. "She waited for you as long as she could. She teaches a class every Wednesday night at the community center down the street. It starts at 5 p.m. so she had to get going." She handed Antoine the garment as he handed her the bag full of her clothing.

"I see. Well, tell her I'll pick her up at 5 p.m. tomorrow night. Good evening" he said as he turned around to go. Curiosity got the better of him and he stopped at the door, turning back to grandmother. "What kind of class does she teach?"

Grandmother gave him a wink. "Fencing" she replied.

A slow smile spread across Antoine's face. Fencing was right up his alley. This could be very interesting, he thought as he walked out of the shop.

Chapter 9

"Thrust...lunge...recover...parry...riposte!" yelled Isabelle to her students. She had her ten students lined up in the middle of the room, practicing. They were all dressed alike in their white tennis shoes, white sweat pants, white fencing jacket, mask, glove and foil with a protected tip. "And again!" she walked behind them, watching their foot work, making sure they had correct fencing posture. This class was a blessing today for it helped her keep her mind off of Antoine. She seemed to see him everywhere, even now, she could swear he was standing in the doorway, watching her...and then he began walking towards her. She gave a groan as she realized it was really him. She turned her attention back to her students until she felt him right beside her. She didn't want to be rude, so she turned and smiled at him. "Hi there, just give me a few more minutes and then this class is over with, okay?"

He nodded and smiled. "I'll just wait over here." Antoine walked over to the wall and leaned against it, his attention focused on Isabelle.

She turned back to her students, hoping they didn't notice the sudden flush to her cheeks, and put them through a few more drills. She finally looked up at the clock on the wall and noticed it was 6 p.m. "Okay, class is done with for tonight. Practice your lunges for a skills test next week. See you all then." Her students slowly walked out of the room, talking with each other and not paying any attention to the tall man standing off to the side. Isabelle turned her attention to Antoine. He was wearing a black tee-shirt, tucked into black jeans and black tennis shoes. He was watching her as she walked up to him, a smile playing about his lips. Her heart seemed to beat faster the closer she got to him. She prayed he would never find out how much he affected her. She stopped in front of him. "So, what brings you here?" she asked politely.

"You, of course".

Isabelle blushed and looked away, pretending to check to see if her students had all left. After verifying that she was alone with Antoine, she looked back at him. He was watching her intently.

"I'm sorry I couldn't wait for you at the shop."

Antoine waved his hand across the air. "You have no need to apologize. I didn't know you taught a class or I would have been to the shop earlier today. So" he said as he looked at the foil in her hand, "are you any good?"

"Well, I fenced all through high school and even took first place in state championships, then I continued on with private lessons until I couldn't afford it any more. I teach a beginning and advanced class, in fact, my next class starts at 7. So, I guess what I'm trying to say is, I'm good enough to teach." Why does this man unnerve me every time we're together? thought Isabelle. I just rambled on a bunch of meaningless nothing!

Antoine looked her up and down, taking in her black tank-top and stone-washed blue jeans and black keds. Her shirt clung to her well-endowed chest making Antoine's eyes stray there more than once or twice. Her red hair was pulled up into a pony-tail, giving her a very youthful appearance. His eyes finally came back to hers. "Then, if you are good enough to teach, you are good enough to meet in a match. Shall we?"

Somehow, it didn't surprise her that he knew how to fence. "What? You mean, you want to have a bout, right here? Now?"

"Why not?" replied Antoine. "Are you afraid I'll beat you?" he taunted.

That remark brought up the fighting Irish in Isabelle. "You're on" she said and she walked him over to the equipment closet. She opened it up and chose a jacket for him and herself, then pointed to the cart of foils. "Choose your weapon" she said as she handed him his jacket. "Gloves are on the bottom shelf. Masks are on the top shelf. Root around until you find one that fits" and she walked away to the center of the room.

He picked a foil, got into his jacket and glove and joined her on the floor. She was dressed and practicing some lunges when he came up to her. She stopped and looked at him. "No mask?" she inquired.

Antoine carefully removed her mask as he answered. "I don't think they're necessary. We're not out for blood, just a simple touch on the chest." He took her mask and put it on the bench, then came back to her.

Isabelle raised an eyebrow. "Okay, then, no mask. First one to score a touch wins. Loser buys the winner a drink. En guarde" she said as she assumed the position.

Antoine also assumed the en guarde position and they began fencing. They tested each other first with simple thrusts and parries, then moved on to more difficult maneuvers. He knew he was an excellent swordsman but Isabelle was proving to be a match for him. She defended his attack and countered with her own attack in fluid motions, moving from one position to another with ease. He was impressed with her skill.

Ten minutes later found them still fighting without having scored a touch, and Isabelle was surprised that he could fence so well. Their fencing intensified as they each tried to gain the advantage, but neither one of them would give an inch. The sound of metal hitting against metal rang out, mixing with the sounds of their laboured breathing. No matter what other people thought, fencing took a lot of energy, thought Isabelle to herself. He was stronger than she was, physically, so she had to keep some distance between them, never letting their pommels touch or he would be able to push her sword down and score. She hadn't had this kind of workout in a while and she was getting tired so she decided to pull some tricks taught to her by her old fencing instructor. The first couple of tricks did not catch him off guard, so she pulled out her surprise attack. As she came in with a lunge, she enveloped his blade and with a flick of her wrist, sent his blade soaring out of his hands across the room. He wore a look of surprise on his face as he watched his blade leave his hands then looked quickly back to her. She advanced on him as he backed away, but he tripped over his foot and fell to the ground. She crossed up to him and gently touched her foil to his chest.

"Score" she said with a smile.

As Isabelle stood looking down at him, they locked eyes, each of them lost in their own thoughts. For Isabelle, her thoughts drifted from the elation of having beaten him, to how incredibly handsome he was, the whiteness of the jacket setting of his dark looks to his great advantage. For Antoine, he was completely taken aback by the fact that for once, he was not in control of the situation, even if it was merely fencing. They were both breathing hard as they contemplated one another, then Isabelle began to turn away. With a gleam in his eye, Antoine sat up and grabbed both of her hands in his, yanking the sword out of her hand and throwing it away from them. Then he pulled her down on top of him and rolled them over, so that he ended up on top of her. Now it was Isabelle's turn to be shocked; it had happened so quickly. He had her wrists pinned to the floor and his body covered hers. A look of triumph crossed his face that turned into something else as he felt her struggle slightly beneath him. Isabelle's eyes went from his eyes to his mouth, and she noticed his parted lips as he breathed hard. She stopped struggling as a warm feeling spread throughout her body; she knew he was going to kiss her and this time, she wasn't about to turn away.

Antoine watched her as she looked from his eyes to his mouth and saw the desire building in her eyes. Her barely parted lips silently invited him to her and he obliged by slowly lowering his head down until their lips touched. He didn't waste time as he deepened his kiss almost immediately, exploring her mouth with an intensity he hadn't felt in a long time.

A thousand feelings seemed to explode inside Isabelle as Antoine deftly parted her lips with his tongue, thrusting into her mouth with confidence and experience. The sensation sent shock waves through her and she moved her mouth against his, letting her emotions take over as she met his kiss hungrily. A noise in the hall made Isabelle freeze and Antoine lifted his head away from her. His questioning look turned to one of understanding as they heard voices approaching.

"It's my seven o'clock class."

"Ah, yes, I had forgotten about them." He rolled off of her, getting to his feet and then helping her up from the floor. They dusted themselves off as the first two students walked through the door. Antoine walked over to where he had thrown her blade and picked it up, bringing it back to her. He began to remove his fencing attire as he spoke. "Thank you for this....private lesson. Perhaps I should hire you for further instruction." His eyes twinkled as he saw her blush. She said nothing as she took his jacket, glove and blade from him, trying to get her emotions under control. He grew serious. "I hope we are still on for tomorrow night's engagement."

Isabelle found her voice. "Of course! I wouldn't miss it for the world."

"Good" he replied. "I'll pick you up at 5 o'clock." He started to walk out.

"But" she said, halting him in his tracks, "doesn't the dinner start at 7?"

"Yes. But we need time to get dressed properly." He gave her a dazzling smile and walked out. Isabelle went to the equipment closet and put his things away. She was still a bit shaken from the kiss but oh! How she wanted more of it!

Chapter 10

The next day seemed to drag for Isabelle, as her nervous energy helped her accomplish her tasks in record time. She had done the morning's orders, cleaned the shop, rearranged the stock room, washed the windows and still, it seemed like time had stopped. Of course, looking at the clock every few minutes didn't help. A watched pot never boils, she thought to herself as she swept the floor. Lunch came and went as she helped her grandmother with the customers. She had decided that since Antoine was picking her up early in the evening, that she would make her delivery run early in the afternoon. She loaded up the van and set out to do her rounds.

She had come back from the delivery route in record time and was just washing her hands when Kathleen came bounding into the shop.

"Hi Belle!" said Kathleen as she ran up to the counter.

Isabelle noticed the flush to Kathleen's cheeks and the sparkle in her eyes. "Hi babe, what's up?"

"Belle, would it be okay if I went to watch the tryouts for the basketball team? Ricky's gonna try and I want to be there, to watch him."

Isabelle felt a small stab of guilt, for having relied so heavily on Kathleen to help them in the shop. She wished they could hire someone so that Kathleen could be the girl she still was and do things like other kids. Isabelle came around to the front side of the counter and gave Kathleen a big hug. "Of course you can go, Kathy. Just be home by six o'clock so grandma won't worry and have to come looking for you, okay?"

"Okay, thanks a lot Belle. I'll be home on time!" And Kathleen bounded out the shop door. Isabelle smiled and thought how nice it would be to be that young and have her kind of boy troubles instead of the troubles she was having with Antoine. Well, no, that wasn't exactly correct. Kathleen had pretty much the same problems she had, with trying to get a guy to like her. But Kathleen didn't have the physical side to worry about. Yet.

"What was that big sigh for?" asked grandma as she came up to the counter.

Startled, Belle turned around. "What? Oh, nothing. I was just thinking." Isabelle came around behind the counter to stand beside her grandmother.

"I don't need two guessed to know who you're thinking about." Grandmother reached into the cooler and grabbed a couple of Kathleen's Pepsis, then brought them back to the counter and sat down on a stool. "So, what's the problem? You two kissed, right? Everything should be smooth sailing from here on."

"Grandma, yes, we kissed, but that doesn't mean anything. Now it gets rockier, not smoother."

"Why's that?"

"Well, it's just that I'm kind of at war with myself, I think." Isabelle sat down on a second stool and opened one of the Pepsis. "I mean, he's very handsome, almost too good-looking to be true, he's extremely courteous yet he's demandingly imperative in some ways; he's complimentary, yet he's competitive...."

Grandma interrupted her. "In other words, you found out he's human and not a god."

Isabelle grimaced as she played with the can in her hands. "Okay, so he's human. But it's more than that, grandma. Along with all of that, he's a good kisser, no, more than that, he's an excellent kisser and I'm ...well...I haven't....it's been so long since I...and he..."

Grandma put a hand on her arm. "So that's what this is about. Sweety, never question why someone's attracted to you. Just be thankful that they are. And if you're attracted to him, well, that's a double blessing in my book. In all honesty, I would guess that he's quite experienced in making love to a woman. A man that handsome would have women knocking on his door constantly, and he doesn't seem the type to turn them down. I'm not saying he's promiscuous, but I think he knows his business."

Isabelle stared down at the Pepsi in her hand. "And then there's me. I've only had a couple of boyfriends within the past few years, and, well, to be honest, they weren't the best in bed. I'm not saying that Antoine and I are going to have sex, I mean, we hardly know each other, and after tonight, I might not ever see him again. But after that kiss last night...well... the possibility does exist." She gave a quick glance to her grandmother. "Don't mean to shock you grandma" she said with a grin.

Grandmother grinned back at her. "Belle, I've lived for so long, I don't think anything can shock me any more. If you came running in from outside and told me that you saw a pig fly, I'd just say 'That's nice dear' and keep on making flower arrangements." Isabelle laughed at that remark while her grandmother smiled. Then her grandmother continued. "So what you're trying to say is you don't feel up to his expertise in the bedroom."

Isabelle stopped laughing. "Yeah, I guess you could say that."

"Sweety, don't worry about that. Like I said, if he's attracted to you, then he won't mind teaching you a thing or two. Men like to feel they're in control of the situation. It's the woman's job to make sure he feels that way when he really isn't."

Isabelle laughed again along with her grandmother. "Oh, grandma, I can't believe I'm talking about sex with you!"

"Well, I'm glad you are. Just because I'm old, doesn't mean I don't remember what it was like!" Her grandmother turned away from Isabelle, a shadow of a sad look crossing her face.

Isabelle hesitated a moment. "Grandma, what's it like, not having granddad here? I mean, I know you miss him, but, how do you keep going?"

Her grandmother turned back to Isabelle. "How do I keep going? I ask myself that every day. But I find that, whenever I get melancholy, all I have to do is remember the good times and it makes me smile. I don't get melancholy very often. There's too much to do running the shop and keeping an eye on you girls. You ask me how I can keep going. Well, how do you keep going? I've lost my husband and my daughter and son-in-law, but you've lost your parents much too early in life."

Isabelle looked thoughtful for a moment. "I guess I sort of think like you do. I miss them, but there's too much living to do to drown in sorrow."

Her grandmother squeezed her hands. "And there's your answer. There's too much living to do. Speaking of, we'd better get those flower arrangements finished for the Singer's wedding. They'll be here around 4:30 to pick them up." Isabelle began to gather the flowers out of the cooler as her grandmother read the list of what was needed.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


The next two hours were busy for Isabelle and when she finally had a moment to glance up at the clock, she saw that it was almost five. She quickly finished cleaning up the prep table and took off her work apron. "Grandma, I've gotta get ready to go. Can you finish up?"

"No problem" replied grandmother.

"Great, thanks. Oh, and Kathy will be home by six o'clock. She promised." Isabelle ran upstairs and took a quick shower. Since Antoine was taking her back to the formal wear shop, she didn't have to worry about dressing up. She put on a pair of jeans, a short-sleeved shirt, and sandals and ran back downstairs. She got to the bottom of the stairs just as Antoine walked into the shop. He was dressed in a knit shirt, khaki Dockers and brown loafers. Isabelle walked up to him, smiling. "Hi."

Antoine took her hand in his and gave it a kiss. "Hello" he replied. "Are you ready to go?"

"Yes" replied Isabelle. He put his arm on her back to escort her out. Isabelle turned her head over her shoulder. "See you later grandma."

Antoine opened the door to let Isabelle out first and turned his head back to grandmother. "Have a good evening Rebecca."

Grandmother waved to the both of them. "I will and don't worry if you're late." Antoine gave her one of his dazzling smiles and closed the door behind him. She sat down on the stool, as her knees suddenly seemed unable to support her. That man was too devastatingly handsome. She wondered if he even realized the effect he had on women. If Belle doesn't take the opportunity fate has presented her with, thought grandmother, then I am going to take her to a shrink.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


Once again, Antoine took Isabelle to see Alessandro in his shop. This time Isabelle found herself dressed in a dark-blue silk cocktail dress. It was strapless and form-fitting, hugging her curves, with the narrow skirt falling down to just above her knees with a slit up one side for easy movement. Her long hair was pulled away from her face and curled in ringlets to fall down her back. She had dark-blue satin pumps and handbag that matched. She looked at herself in the mirror, pleased with the reflection.

Antoine was dressed in a black dinner suit, not as formal as the tuxedo he had worn previously, but still, a very elegant style that seemed so natural on him. He walked up behind Isabelle as she looked in the mirror, and she noticed he had something in his hand. He was silent as he looked her up and down, then he caught her eyes in the reflection and spoke. "I want to give you something, but I'm not sure if you will accept it. Both tonight and the other night, I had wanted to get you flowers, but since you work in a flower shop, it seemed redundant. So I thought about what I could give you that would be special." He brought up the object in his hand and Isabelle turned around to him, noticing it was a long, thin, black velvet case. Antoine opened it, took out a necklace and held it up for her to view. It was a single, delicately carved gold rose on a gold chain. "I hope you will permit this."

Isabelle was in shock at the gift as she held it gingerly in her hands. "Oh, Antoine, it's beautiful."

"I'm glad you like it. Then you will wear it?"

A look of concern crossed Isabelle's face. "Antoine, I don't think I can accept something like this. Flowers are one thing, but this...."

He interrupted her. "This is merely a flower, one that will not fade and die, but last forever." He could still see the hesitation in her eyes. "Please, do me this honour" he commanded gently.

Her eyes were shining as she looked into his. "Then, yes, I accept."

He turned her back around so that she was facing the mirror and he stood behind her. He put the necklace around her as she held her hair up out of his way. He fastened it and then helped her put her hair back down. He moved his hands to her shoulders and moved as close to her backside as he could. He whispered in her ear "Bello Isabelle" and lightly kissed her on her neck, sending delicious shivers through Isabelle. Antoine then paid Alessandro and took Isabelle's arm and they walked out into the night.

They drove along in his silver sports car, both thinking their own thoughts about the coming evening. Isabelle didn't mind silence between two people, especially since the other times driving in his car had been a verbal disaster, but some stubbornness in her decided to try again and strike up a conversation.

"So, how is your business going? I hope better than the other day" Isabelle said with a smile.

Antoine grimaced at that. "Well, it's going about the same, but I promise I won't bite your head off for asking about it." He looked at her and smiled, then turned back to the road.

"Well, maybe talking with Thomas Kint tonight will help. He is trying to help small businesses, so just tell him the troubles you're having."

"I'll think about it" replied Antoine.

"Although" continued Isabelle, "you must not be doing too badly. I mean, you obviously make more than decent money. I don't know of very many businessmen who rent formalwear for them and their wives or drive fancy sports cars. Unless there's money in the family."

He continued to keep his attention fixed to the road in front of him as he replied. "No, there's no money in the family. Only what I send back to them."

Isabelle was taken aback. "You actually send money back to Italy for them? You support them?"

"As much as I can." He looked at her. "This surprises you?"

"No...well, okay... yes... a little bit. I mean, you don't hear of many people doing that these days" stammered Isabelle.

Antoine noticed her fidgeting with her necklace and smiled. "What about you? How is your business going?"

"Good, good. It keeps us busy. I just wish I could afford to hire someone to take Kathy's place."

Antoine turned back to the road, agreeing with Isabelle. "She is a bit young to be working."

"Yes, she should be able to be free and be a child. Especially now that she has her first crush."

"Oh?"

Isabelle smiled. "Yes, little Ricky Sanders asked her to be his valentine. Kathy's been pining away for him for a long time. And now she finally has his interest, I haven't the heart to keep her working in the afternoons when she could be spending time with him at a school function.."

"Not having Kathleen there in the shop puts more pressure on you and your grandmother" frowned Antoine.

"Yes it does, but it's worth it to see her happy." Isabelle turned to look out the window.

Antoine thought about what she said and decided he would see if he could do something about it. They turned down the street that the Kints lived on and Antoine looked for the correct house. It was a suburban neighborhood with houses that looked similar to each other, all the lawns and hedges were neatly trimmed, the yards were clean and clutter free, and in all of the driveways sat fairly new cars. "Here it is" he said as they pulled up at the curb. He grabbed a package from the behind the seat, got out of the car and walked around to the passenger side. He smiled, for he could imagine they were a real couple, on a real date, coming to dine with friends. He helped Isabelle out of the car, lacing his fingers through hers as they walked up to the front door. Antoine knocked. The door was opened by Marilyn and suddenly Antoine remembered his purpose.

Marilyn smiled big. "Hello Antoine and Isabelle! Please, come in!" She stepped back to allow them in.

Antoine let Isabelle go ahead of him, then stepped over the threshold. "I hope you don't mind but I brought you a small gift" and he handed Marilyn the package.

Marilyn opened the brown paper bag and pulled out an expensive bottle of wine. "Antoine, you shouldn't have! But this is very sweet of you."

Antoine gave her one of his dazzling smiles, intended to start wearing down her defenses. "It was very kind of you to open your home to us."

"My husband and I love to entertain people. Isabelle, may I just say you look lovely tonight?"

Isabelle blushed. "Thank you, so do you."

Marilyn started to lead them into the living room. "Please come in and make yourselves at home. Thomas will be here in a moment. I'll just take this wine out to the kitchen." Marilyn walked out of the room.

Isabelle looked over to Antoine and noticed a slight frown on his face as he watched their hostess leave. She walked over to him and touched him on the arm. "Are you okay?"

He looked down at her and changed his frown to a smile. "I'm fine" he said as he put an arm around her waist.

"Okay" said Isabelle. "I just don't want you to get too serious this evening, Mr. Italy."

Antoine raised an eyebrow. "Mr. Italy?"

Isabelle grinned. "That's what Kathy calls you."

Antoine lowered his voice. "And what do you call me?"

Isabelle's grin disappeared as she looked into his eyes, noticing the sensuous look he was giving her. She said nothing as he lowered his head to hers and lightly brushed her lips with a kiss. Antoine kept his lips poised above hers as they both breathed in each other's scent. All it would take is for one of them to move the slightest amount and their lips would touch again. But the sound of approaching footsteps stopped them.

"Hello. I'm so sorry to keep you two waiting" said Thomas as he entered the room. He noticed how close Antoine and Isabelle were standing and he smiled. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

Isabelle blushed as Antoine turned his head at the sound of Thomas' voice. "No, not at all."

Thomas crossed up to them both, extending his hand first to Antoine then to Isabelle. "How are you both this evening?" Thomas led them over to the sofa and after a while, Marilyn joined them. They discussed simple things at first, the weather, the news, just to get a feel for each other's background. Then Marilyn and Isabelle started discussing fashion, leaving Thomas and Antoine to converse.

"So, what type of company do you represent, Antoine?"

"We sell a variety of Italian made items, from clothing to cars." Antoine decided to keep his answers as short as possible, to allay suspicion of his true line of work.

"Do you pound the streets going from door to door? Or does your company send the word out and then potential clients contact you?"

This kind of conversation was getting a little too close for comfort. "A little bit of both, actually. We get a fair amount of business by the companies talking to each other and recommending me...I mean, us." Antoine smiled affably. "Then they contact me, I go to their workplace and show them what I have to offer, trying to get the best price I can." This was getting worse, he thought.

Marilyn cut into the conversation. "You know, you almost make it sound like prostitution" she said with a smile.

Thomas turned to his wife. "I'm not sure that they aren't linked" he said with a wink to Antoine, "but we'll save the prostitution platform for when I'm in office."

Antoine felt sure that he was going to break out into a sweat but just then, a maid came to announce dinner. Antoine sighed in relief and escorted Isabelle into the dining room.

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Dinner was uneventful for there wasn't much Antoine could do with Thomas sitting across from him. So he enjoyed the meal, joining in the conversation amicably. He noticed the expression of happiness on Isabelle's face and was feeling strangely content himself in these unnatural surroundings. This wasn't his style at all, sharing a pleasant evening with another couple in their home. Most nights found him dining in expensive restaurants, with a wealthy, beautiful woman, and of course, afterwards, they would usually go to his place to complete the 'business transaction'. There was a lull in the conversation at the table and Antoine took this moment to catch Isabelle's eye. She smiled at him demurely, tilting her head down and looking at him from under her eyelashes. He found this coquettishness appealing to his masculine temperament. It was very different from the bold, open looks he received from women most of the time. He found this...refreshing. He winked at her and she blushed, making him consider her even more. There just weren't very women that he knew, who could blush and yet, here he was at the dinner table with two women who could, for every once in a while, Thomas would whisper in Marilyn's ear and she would turn a light shade of red. They were cute to watch. A feeling started growing within him, a foreign feeling, of how wrong it was to seduce Marilyn. He took a drink of wine as he tried to ignore it, but it was there, in its persistence to be noticed.

After dessert, they all took their wineglasses back into the living room and relaxed. Isabelle sat next to Thomas and they were engaged in talking about his political platform and her business. That left Antoine sitting with Marilyn and he knew this was the moment to bring all of his charm and talent into play. He turned on his subtle charm that had never failed him and spoke to Marilyn.

"Thomas is a lucky man."

Marilyn raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Why is that?"

"He has a beautiful wife that loves and supports him. It's a rare thing to see these days" he said with a lazy smile.

"You are too kind, Antoine" said Marilyn.

Antoine gave a faint frown. She should have blushed at that comment, for that was a signal of a woman's attraction for a man. But she didn't. All she did was smile politely at him.

"I'm not being kind, I'm serious" continued Antoine.

"Then I sincerely thank you on behalf of my husband."

The smile faded from Antoine's face. "Your husband?" he questioned.

"Yes. Out of all the girls he could have dated, he picked me" she replied simply.

Frustrated, Antoine stopped for a moment. He was getting nowhere with Marilyn! He tried another tactic. "I hope you don't mind my asking, but the two of you are very affectionate in public, whereas most other politicians are not, and I was wondering if it was just a show? I don't mean to offend" he added hastily.

Marilyn gave him a smile. "Antoine, you don't offend at all. Thomas and I have been affectionate in private and in public ever since we were high school sweethearts. We just can't help it."

"You have never strayed from one another, not even for a moment?" asked Antoine incredulously.

"Not once" replied Marilyn. "When you know it's right, there's no need to look anywhere else. I would suspect the same is true for you and Isabelle."

Antoine was speechless for a moment as he glanced over at Isabelle, then back to Marilyn. "Well, we're just...we...."

Marilyn laughed softly. "It's okay, you don't have to explain anything to me."

Antoine tried to turn the conversation back the way he wanted it. "So you've never even looked at another man, never considered the possibility of an affair?"

"No. Thomas is the only one I've ever wanted."

Antoine realized that he had found a respectable woman, one that his charms wouldn't work on. He looked back over at Isabelle and realized that she and Marilyn were similar in their morals. He knew he could seduce Isabelle, for she was definitely attracted to him, but still, she wasn't like his clients. She wasn't paying him for his company or his body. Suddenly, for some reason, he was glad that Marilyn couldn't be seduced. But what was he going to do? Cavendish was expecting those pictures. Could he find a look-alike and get the photos done? But that wasn't appealing to him either. He didn't want to have sex with just anyone.

He did a mental double take. Where had that thought come from? He'd been having sex with everyone and anyone for the past 5 years!

The maid distracted Marilyn's attention from him and Antoine watched Isabelle as she spoke with Thomas. She was unaware of his gaze as he looked her up and down. She was seated with her legs crossed at the knee and the slit in her dress showed a good deal of her legs and thigh. The strapless dress molded to her bosom and the gold necklace he had given her circled her bare neck and dangled down to her cleavage. The blue of her dress set off the golden highlights of her hair as the ringlets cascaded down her back. Her dark brown eyes were intense as she spoke to her avid listener. Antoine frowned a bit as her focus of attention was on Thomas and not himself. Why should he be jealous? He was just using her for this evening, yet, as he thought about it, nothing had gone right in this mission. He kept staring at her, willing her to look at him. He wasn't sure why he wanted her to, but it suddenly seemed important.

Thomas and Isabelle paused in their conversation to take a sip of wine. Isabelle took a drink and saw Antoine looking at her from over the rim of her glass. What she saw made her pause. The look in Antoine's eyes was that of desire mixed with... wonder. The corners of his mouth turned up, making her look at his full lower lip. She longed to run her tongue along that lip, to feel the fullness of it; to feel his mouth on her body, his breath hot against her skin...she found herself getting aroused so she closed her eyes a moment to calm herself. When she opened her eyes again, Antoine was still watching her but a sly smile played with his lips. Damn the man, he knew he affected her! But two could play at this game, she thought to herself. She turned her attention back to Thomas, shifting her position to cross her legs the other way, allowing the slit in her skirt to open more, revealing more of her legs. She ignored him for a few moments, then risked a quick look his way and saw the lust burning in his eyes. What had come over her? Why had she tried to turn him on? Suddenly, she was unsure of herself. They still had a car ride home and as much as she desired him, she wasn't a girl to indulge in one-night stands. That was something only hookers did, she thought to herself.

Antoine watched Isabelle like a hawk, noticing every little movement she made. Antoine found it hard to control himself when her dress had revealed more of her legs. She was a tall woman and most of her height was in her legs, very long, very shapely legs. Antoine turned back and replied to the question his hostess had just asked him, then he stood up and crossed to Isabelle, helping her to stand.

"Thomas and Marilyn, we thank you for your hospitality this evening but it's time Isabelle and I were going before we wear out our welcome." Isabelle looked up at him in surprise, but said nothing.

Both Thomas and Marilyn stood up but it was Marilyn who replied. "You could never wear out your welcome here in this house. But I understand, Antoine" she said quietly. Marilyn gave Antoine a knowing look and smiled.

Isabelle wasn't sure what was going on there, but the possessive hand Antoine had on her, dispelled her doubts immediately.

Thomas held out his hand to Antoine. "Yes thank you for dropping by. It has been a very informative evening for me and I shall use the knowledge I gained here tonight wisely. Please feel free to stop by anytime."

"Thank you" replied Antoine. Isabelle and Antoine walked out of the house, stepping into the night air, to his car.

Chapter 11

Once in the car, Antoine roared through the streets and out of the quite neighborhood, back into the city. He didn't say a word as they sped along. It was one of two things, thought Isabelle. Either he was anxious to be rid of her for the evening or he wanted to continue the evening some place more private. Isabelle had a feeling it was the latter. She glanced over at him and noticed the intense look on his face as he maneuvered the car through the streets. She decided to find out which ending it was going to be.

"Well" said Isabelle, "that was rather an abrupt ending to a pleasant evening."

"Who said the evening is over?" He gave her a look, leaving no doubt in her mind as to what he implied. He watched as Isabelle blushed, looked down, looked out the window, everywhere but his eyes.

"That does it," he growled as he downshifted.

Isabelle turned to him in alarm. "What? What's wrong?"

Antoine pulled onto a side street and parked the car, turning off the engine. He leaned towards her, putting one arm on the back of the seat behind her shoulders. "I cannot wait any longer" he said as he pulled her into his arms. His mouth took possession of hers immediately, his full lips drinking hers in. She was ready this time and she moved her mouth against his as he quickly became more demanding in his kiss, his tongue seeking entrance to the sweetness between her lips. She had barely parted her lips when his tongue expertly slipped inside and began its exploration of her mouth. Isabelle began breathing faster as a slow fire burned in her chest and spread down to her belly, to end in a pulsating ache between her legs. Her hands clenched and unclenched against his back until she finally brought them up and dug them into his dark, silky locks. Her moans of pleasure excited Antoine and he plundered her mouth again and again, moving his head around to get as far into her as he could.

Antoine's hands, which until now had merely held her to him, began their own exploration of Isabelle's body. He had one hand on the back of her neck and he let it slide up into her hair, reveling in the thickness of the soft tangle of curls. His other hand traveled down her back and around to her side, over her hip and down her thigh. He finally let go of her mouth, coming up for breath as he panted with desire, but then his lips found a new trail, as he kissed his way down her neck to follow the path of her necklace and ending at the top of her cleavage. He whispered hoarsely against her skin. "Oh Belle...."

Isabelle could only moan in response, as the fire spread throughout her body, making her arch herself towards his eager mouth. The feel of his lips combined with his goatee against her skin made her breath harder. His hand left her thigh, crossed back up her side and covered her breast, his thumb circling her nipple through the material of the dress, enticing it into a hard peak. His tongue traced across the flesh that peeked over the top of her dress. He gave a low growl of frustration at the material that hindered him and proceeded to pull it away from her skin when Isabelle's hand stopped him. He looked up and saw doubt filling her eyes. "Belle, what's wrong? Why do you stop me?"

Isabelle's voice shook a little as she spoke. "Antoine, I just...I'm not...how do I explain this? I'm just ....concerned...that's all."

He brought her hand up to his lips and kissed her fingers. "What concerns you, my Belle?"

"That... I'm not exactly the right type for you."

It was Antoine's turn to look confused. "The right type for what? You are a woman, and I am a man."

He started to kiss her again but she stopped him with her words. "But I'm what they call a 'full-figured' woman. I don't have the right type of a body to impress a man like you and I'm afraid I would just disappoint you."

He smiled then, finally understanding her hesitancy. "Belle, if I wanted to be with someone who looked like those hi-fashion models in magazines, I would be with one. But most women in this world don't look like that. I have had past ... ah ... girlfriends...with the so-called 'perfect bodies' but they never pleased me. Where I come from, the men look for women who are more than skin and bones. They look for the women who have hips to give them healthy babes, who have breasts to suckle their children and who please them in bed. But it isn't merely physical beauty. Passion is more than physical; it's emotional and soulful. Who wants to bed a woman who is beautiful on the outside, but cunning, spiteful and hateful on the inside? But above all this, you are to me, beautiful, inside and out. You are 'ma belle'." He gave Isabelle a tender look, full of compassion and understanding.

Isabelle searched his face and found he meant what he said. She took his face in both of her hands and this time, it was her turn to demand more from the kiss as she brought his head down to hers. She let loose with a flood of passion which Antoine responded to with ease. She kissed his mouth, then took his lower lip between her own, licking and sucking it gently. Her hands stroked the sides of his face, then grabbed his hair to move his head into a position that she wanted, making his mouth more accessible to her. She took the initiative and her tongue slipped into his mouth, exploring him, leaving no part of his mouth untouched by her. This excited Antoine, making him moan as his desire for Isabelle threatened to overwhelm him. It was all he could do to not take her right there in the car, but the logistics of it would have been close to impossible. Sports cars just weren't made to have sex in. His breathing was ragged as he lifted his head. He looked into her eyes and saw what he wanted to see. "Belle, come with me back to my...."

A tap on the driver's side window made them suddenly aware they weren't alone. A strong beam of light penetrated the dark interior of the car and they broke from their clinch to see someone outside the car. The windows were fogged up from their passionate embrace so Antoine rolled down the window. A policeman ducked his head down to look at the lovers.

"Good evening folks."

Antoine was gripped with a moment of fear as he thought he had been found out. His voice was strong though, as he replied. "Good evening officer."

"Would you like to tell me what's going on here?" said the officer with a frown.

Antoine put on his charming smile. "We were just driving home from a dinner party and...well...I couldn't wait". He looked over at Isabelle.

The officer shone his flashlight from Antoine to Isabelle, noticing their expensive clothes, then gave a grin as he spoke. "You know, I usually encounter teenagers behind foggy windows, not adults. But you need to take this kind of behavior home where it's private, all right?"

"Yes sir. We'll get going right now" said Antoine.

"All right then, you have a good evening and drive careful." The officer turned off his flashlight and walked back to his car. Antoine rolled up his window and turned to Isabelle, who was silently laughing into her hands. Antoine smiled and she burst out laughing.

"Oh, Antoine!" she said between laughs. "That was so funny! I don't think I've ever been caught like this before!" He silently waited for her to recover, sobered by the encounter with the policeman. She finished laughing and looked at him, noticing a distant look on his face. "Is everything all right?" she asked him.

"I think I'd better take you home" he replied quietly. He turned the engine over and the car roared to life. He took off and they finished the drive to her shop in silence, each lost in their thoughts.

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He pulled up to the flower shop and helped her out of the car. He held her hand as he escorted her up to the door. They turned to each other, gazing into each other's eyes. Isabelle wondered if he would ask her out again, or if this was it. She had fulfilled his need of her in one capacity. But he had just started her need of him in another. Finally, Isabelle broke the silence.

"So, are you going to stop by and pick up the dress again tomorrow?" She couldn't hide the eagerness in her voice as she spoke.

Antoine smiled at her. "Yes, just the same as the other day. You keep the undergarments."

Isabelle looked down and blushed again, almost driving Antoine to take her in his arms once more and pick up where they left off. But he had some business to do in regards to Cavendish so he controlled himself. "You know, you are going to have to model these undergarments for me. It's the one part of your outfit that I've never had the pleasure of seeing."

A happy light shone in Isabelle's eyes. He wanted to be with her again! She looked up at him as she replied. "When do you want this private viewing?" She couldn't believe she had just said that, but she kept eye contact with Antoine, lest she lose the moment.

Antoine stepped up close to her, forcing her to crane her neck back to look up at him. He put his arms around her, bringing his lips close to hers. "How about tomorrow night after dinner? We haven't had a date to ourselves yet."

Isabelle eyes were partly closed as she felt his breath on her cheek and she almost put her lips on his for a reply when she remembered that tomorrow night was Friday night. She opened her eyes wide. "I can't tomorrow night. Friday nights are for us girls. It's been a tradition for a long time now. I just wouldn't feel right telling them I had a date, but not with them. I hope you understand" said Isabelle anxiously.

He gave her one of his dazzling smiles and Isabelle almost melted against him. "I do understand. How about Saturday night? Are you free then?"

Isabelle smiled big. "Definitely!"

Antoine kissed the tip of her nose. "Good. I'll pick you up around seven." He held her and gave a heavy sigh. "I had better go or the only bed you will see tonight will be mine." He gave her a quick kiss on the lips and let go of her suddenly. "I will stop by around one tomorrow afternoon to pick up the dress."

"Oh, I'll be out on my deliveries by then. That's about the time usually go."

"You will be here waiting for me this time" he demanded.

"But..."

Antoine put a finger against her lips. "No arguing. You will be here." His eyes burned into hers, demanding her obedience.

Isabelle sighed. "I'll be here waiting for you."

He smiled and got back into his car, driving off into the night. Isabelle hugged her arms to herself, one hand playing with the gold rose necklace, as she watched his car fade into the night. He was so demanding, she thought to herself, but he was so worth it.

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Back in his apartment, Antoine paced across the living room floor restlessly as he thought about the evening. He had failed miserably in his seduction of Marilyn Kint and he had mixed emotions about it.

On the one hand, he was glad he had failed. The past few days he had been in contact with a different breed of people with Isabelle, Marilyn and Thomas. They all had morals and respectability, they cared for others as much, if not more than, themselves. They each had responsibilities; Thomas and Marilyn for the community and state, Isabelle for her sister and grandmother. It was such a contrast to the people he normally hung around with. His clients were all selfish, self-absorbed women, interested in pleasing themselves and no one else. But Isabelle...she was different. She was real in everything she said or did. She didn't play games with him; she said what she meant. When she got angry, she let him know it. And her uninhibited reactions to his love-making...Antoine closed his eyes as he remembered their kiss in the car. She had come to him willingly and responded with a passion that matched his own. He gave a deep sigh as he remembered every touch, every look that she had given him that evening, and wished he had brought her to his apartment instead of taking her home.

On the other hand, he was worried about having failed his 'mission'. Cavendish had told him in no uncertain terms what would be the price for failure. If he were arrested, Isabelle would know what he really was. He frowned. What was happening to him? Up until a week ago, he could have cared less what people thought of his profession. Now he was ashamed of it. He knew he should tell Isabelle everything but he couldn't face her knowing the truth about him.

His phone rang but he ignored it. The message machine came on and he listened to it absently as his thoughts continued, until he heard a voice he dreaded.

"Laconte? Are you there? If so, you had better pick up the phone." It was Cavendish. Antoine picked up the receiver.

"Yes, I'm here" said Antoine into the phone.

"Sorry if I interrupted you while doing your...business" he sneered through the phone "but I need to know how you're progressing with the Kints."

Antoine lied to him. "It's going well. Shouldn't be too much longer now."

"Good. Just wanted to let you know that they moved the debate to next Friday night so I need those pics by Wednesday morning."

"Wednesday?" Antoine nearly shouted. "Look, you gave me two weeks to do this job...."

"I know" said the voice on the other end of the line. "But things change. And you have no choice, so just do it Laconte." The line went dead as Cavendish hung up.

Antoine lowered the receiver to his chest and muttered a string of Italian curses. He slammed the receiver back in the cradle and walked over to his wet bar. He picked up the bottle of whiskey and a glass, looked down at the glass and threw it against the wall, shattering it. He walked across the broken glass, carrying the whiskey with him and sat in his Italian leather, over-sized stuffed chair. He took the lid off the bottle and started drinking, wondering how the hell he was going to get out of this mess.

BACKHOMEPAGE 3