Desperate Measures

  ‘You were sleeping so sweetly I thought I’d have time to complete my errands and return before you knew I’d been away,’ Alain said wryly. ‘I had phone calls to make to Paris—to tell colleagues I was taking an extended leave, and that as it was my honeymoon I did not wish to be disturbed. Also we needed more food. I have to keep up my strength, you understand.’

  ‘Do you?’ She gave him a limpid look.

  ‘Why, yes, mignonne. It’s very tough work being an artist’s model. Particularly when one is obliged to make love to the artist.’

  ‘Oh God!’ Philippa clapped a hand to her mouth. ‘I’ve just remembered—I tore it up—that beautiful drawing of you.’

  ‘Well, I’ll make sure you have plenty of opportunity to draw me again, if you wish.’ He kissed the tip of her nose. ‘I do not intend to wear many clothes over the next week or two.’

  ‘Is that all the time we have?’ she asked wistfully.

  ‘No,’ he said. ‘After we leave here, we are flying to the States to bring your father home. He can come with us to Fontainebleu, and rest up there for a while.’

  ‘I hope finding out that I’m married won’t be too much of a shock for him,’ Philippa said worriedly.

  ‘Maybe when he sees how happy we are, he’ll forgive us both.’

  ‘And are we going to be happy?’ she asked demurely.

  ‘Very.’ Alain kissed her mouth softly. ‘We have nothing to do, after all, but eat, drink, enjoy the sunlight—and each other.’

  ‘And I shall paint, of course,’ she reminded him, then grimaced. ‘I shall have to move all my gear back to the studio again.’

  ‘Later,’ he said. He took her hands and carried them to the buttons of his shirt. ‘After our wedding night.’

  She said breathlessly, unfastening the buttons with fingers that shook a little, ‘But our wedding night was ages ago.’

  ‘Au contraire, mon amour.’ His hands stroked down her body, creating the first warm ripples of pleasure. ‘It begins now, and with your permission, it is going to last a very long time.’ His lips hovered a tantalising hair’s breadth from hers. ‘Do you agree?’

  ‘Yes, my darling.’ Philippa looked up into her husband’s eyes with love and perfect trust. ‘Oh, yes, Alain—Alain …’

  And, after that, there was no more need for words.

  ISBN: 978-1-474-05532-1

  DESPERATE MEASURES

  © 2016 Sara Craven

  Published in Great Britain 2016

  by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

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