The Frenchman's Bride. Rebecca Winters

      Closer now she could see his rock-hard physique topped Paul by several inches.

      He picked up the wine bottle. One black brow slanted in displeasure. “I can’t fault your choice of vintage, but on a Thursday evening when you’re supposed to be celebrating the end of school with your classmates?” He finally put the bottle back on the table.

      Paul cleared his throat. “Hallie’s birthday is much more important than being with a bunch of guys. Papa—may I introduce my friend, Mademoiselle Linn. We met last fall.”

      Lines darkened his arresting features as he examined her face and hair once more. Then his gaze dropped lower until it came to rest on the aquamarine stone shimmering on her finger.

      “Ms. Linn,” he muttered icily, insultingly, as if even having to acknowledge her presence was something he could scarcely tolerate.

      Hallie was confused. Surely seeing her being kissed by his son didn’t warrant such venom. In fact, she had the idea this display of hostility was a rare occurrence.

      Determined to smooth things over she said, “How do you do, Monsieur Rolland. Your children have sung your praises for so long, I’m glad to have this opportunity to meet you at last.”

      “Papa? Could we go in the salon for a moment?”

      “No, we could not.” The quiet rage boiling beneath the surface was unmistakable. His eyes, more black than brown, remained fastened on the ring. “Since Mademoiselle Linn is such an intimate part of your life, I see no reason to exclude her from this conversation.”

      “It’s true that I’m in love with her,” he explained. “She means everything to me. In time I intend to marry her.”

      Paul!

      Not only was she years older in age and experience, he had to be in complete denial.

      A pulse throbbed along his father’s jawline. “How very interesting… Now I understand why she’s wearing a piece of jewelry that caused you to withdraw the entire balance of your checking account for the school year!”

      Hallie moaned.

      Paul displayed the classic symptoms of a rich young man whose infatuation had led him to make a very foolish and costly mistake.

      “I’ll always remember that you wanted to give me this ring, Paul, but you know the reasons why I couldn’t possibly accept it.”

      She’d wanted to protect his sensitivities, but he’d gone too far and needed a wakeup call. Without hesitation she pulled the ring off her finger and put it on the table.

      His face went ashen.

      “It’s too late to try to impress me with a ‘you never meant to keep it’, Ms. Linn.”

      Paul wheeled around. “You don’t understand. I can explain!”

      “I’ll bet you can,” his father bit out. “Just as you can explain how many times you’ve brought her to my apartment since last fall.”

      “I’ve never been here before this evening,” Hallie addressed him in a quiet voice.

      Right now she wasn’t concerned for herself. It was his debilitating anger toward Paul that worried her. Monsieur Rolland had every reason to be upset, but the man was livid. To humiliate his son in front of her was doing much more harm than good.

      “Of course you haven’t.” He sent her a mocking smile. “Just as you had no idea that stone is the real thing.” His eyes impaled her. “I wonder what else you’ve managed to wangle out of him.”

      Such cynicism explained Monique’s remarks earlier. Like father, like daughter.

      Hallie eyed him without flinching. “I’d be happy to discuss this with you, but I think you should talk to your son alone first.”

      His glacial smile didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m not interested in what you think, Ms. Linn. The more you say, the more I’m convinced the ring is only part of an elaborate scheme of extortion only a brazen young woman of your obvious charms would dream up to keep him in your thrall.”

      “Now wait just a minute,” Paul cried. “You have no right to speak to Halli—”

      “Enough!” His father silenced him. “Do you think me a complete imbecile? Don’t you ever shout at me like that again, and don’t ever speak to me of rights. You’ve forfeited any of yours by abusing my trust.”

      As if on cue Monique made her entrance. “Me voici!” she called from the foyer. “I’ve returned. Your time is up, Paul. I’m giving you fair warning in case I’m interrupting anything…”

      Monique’s words set the seal on this incredible tableau of misunderstanding. The little monkey had aided and abetted her brother so he could be alone with Hallie. It was a total revelation to her.

      She couldn’t understand how the twins would think she could have a romantic interest in Paul, who was so much younger. To spend all these months with her and still not appreciate her commitment to the vocation she’d chosen to follow…

      The more she thought about it, the more she supposed it was a case of two idealistic young people believing what they wanted to believe.

      From what they’d told Hallie, their mother had died in childbirth. After being separated from their father this last year, no matter how hard he’d tried to be an attentive parent and stay in close contact with them, they’d clung to Hallie. And this was the result!

      “So—the prodigal daughter returns to the scene of the crime loaded with more clothes than are humanly decent.”

      The moment Monique entered the dining room, her face turned to a study in bewilderment. She came to a standstill in front of her father. “Papa,” she murmured, clearly shocked by his presence. “I thought you wouldn’t be here until tomorrow.”

      “Obviously.” He clipped out. “Otherwise this clandestine little arrangement would have gone undetected. What is it, nine months now that Ms. Linn has been given carte blanche to exploit my children and their propensity for handing over their material goods, which you’ve conveniently forgotten I provide?” he thundered.

      “I’m surprised you had enough money left to purchase anything at all!” He plucked the box from under Monique’s arm and opened it. Out slithered a flaming red cocktail dress. “Is this another contribution to the impoverished Ms. Linn?”

      Hallie didn’t think her blouse and skirt looked that bad.

      “She’s obviously doing very nicely by you two. Let’s see…a designer scarf, a Givenchy dress and a nine thousand dollar ring.”

      Nine thousand dollars—

      Her shocked gaze met his.

      “That’s quite a haul for one day’s work, Ms. Linn.” The skin around his lips had turned a noticeable white.

      “Papa—” Monique gasped, shaking her head. Tears filled her eyes. “What’s wrong? You are totally mistaken about everything, mon pere.”

      He straightened to his full height. “It seems my daughter as well as my son has been thoroughly duped. You do know the meaning of the word, as in taken—conned—” His chest heaved.

      “By Hallie?” Monique cried. “Impossible!” She stamped her foot, a habit of hers when she took a stand. “This was a surprise birthday party for her. She knew nothing! In fact she was so worried we might get into trouble, she almost didn’t come in the taxi with me.”

      “But she did come,” her father rejoindered. “Take a good look. Until a moment ago she was wearing a small fortune and thanking your brother in that age old feminine way that leads a man to his destruction.”

      His reaction didn’t add up to the man the twins idolized. That person was a success in his business affairs, and a hero to his family. The unbending male standing