Angelique

ANGELIQUE

Orchidea: Love on the Bayou 1

Dixie Lynn Dwyer

MENAGE EVERLASTING

Siren Publishing, Inc.

www.SirenPublishing.com

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Letter to Readers

Dear Readers,

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Angelique
by Dixie Lynn Dwyer from BookStrand.com or its official distributors, thank you. Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book.

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DEDICATION

Welcome to Orchidea and a new series about love on the Bayou.

~Dixie Style~

“I hope you will reconsider our offer, Miss. Aubert. We could fly you out to New York tomorrow, sign contracts by early evening and start planning your line’s debut for fashion week,” Michelle Guzon stated as Angelique rolled her eyes. Angelique held the phone with her shoulder as her fingers remained on the keyboard to her laptop. Michelle Guzon just didn’t understand where Angelique was coming from. Glamour, big cities, and industrial assembly lines where less than perfect material would be used to recreate Angelique’s personal designs just wasn’t appealing.

“I’m sorry, Ms. Guzon, but I’m just not interested in your offer. As I explained the last three times that you called me, Secret Pleasures is my baby and my creation. I just don’t feel comfortable with the deal you’re describing. If you will excuse me, I need to get going. Have a nice day,” Angelique told the pushy businesswoman then hung up even though Michelle Guzon was still speaking to her.

Angelique Aubert continued to type away on her computer, trying to organize the online orders coming from her lingerie website, Secret Pleasures. In the last six months, the online store had tripled in sales. At this rate, she was going to have to open a shop, hire some full-time seamstresses, or start negotiating again with those bigwigs from New Orleans about a storefront. She stuck out her tongue and scrunched her nose at the thought of having to deal with someone like Michelle Guzon. Angelique sighed. She was not going to allow them to take over her company. She had heard about other small businesses being taken over by larger companies and the quality of the merchandise decreasing. She recalled how some bigwigs from California came sniffing around looking for Mama Cherise Laveau and her Honey Suckle Cosmetics to buy out. Of course, Mama Cherise Laveau sent those Californians back where they came from. Their attitudes were snippy and stuck up, so Mama Cherise Laveau sent along a little voodoo to accompany them home. Angelique laughed. They never knew what hit them. Secret Pleasures was Angelique’s baby, her dream and livelihood. She was twenty-four years old and owned her own online handmade lingerie business. The fine material was handpicked and ordered from local and state suppliers trying to make ends meet and provide for their families. She didn’t want bulk and bulk rates. She wanted quality and assurances. In the bayou, a handshake went far. If anyone screwed anyone else over, then Mama Cherise would give them a taste of the voodoo.

She clicked on the print button and heard the printer across the room working. As she waited for the detailed report and her shopping list for the bead and material shop in New Orleans, she walked toward the balcony and her porch that overlooked the bayou. It was another hot one. She already felt the beads of sweat on her forehead. She’d have to dress accordingly. As she ran her hands down the light purple fabric of her lingerie, she felt the tingling sensation in her belly. She personally designed every piece of her merchandise. She hand sewed every bead and exquisite design herself or directed her seamstresses. She wanted every woman to feel desirable and sexy when she wore “Secret Pleasures” underneath their daily attire or in the bedroom. Her pieces were becoming so popular that if this continued, she wouldn’t be able to keep up with the demand. Not unless she branched out and opened a shop, and that meant telling her four overprotective sisters exactly what she did for a living. Angelina, Ellena, Mikayla, and Illeanna would be shocked. But then again, they were always so understanding. One day she would tell them. That guilty feeling grew stronger in her gut. She and her sisters were close. This secret was a burden, but then again, Angelique just wasn’t ready to go public.

Closing the patio doors then locking them, she headed to her bedroom to change. She filtered through her drawers looking for the right colored panties and bra. Grabbing the light-yellow matching set, she pulled on the cotton thong panties first. She loved this set. There was a small design of tiny sequined beads across the trim, and the bra had the same matching sequins between the cups of the bra that covered the clip. Lace trim overlapped the elastic straps so that it could appear as a camisole when wearing an off-the-shoulder blouse. It was feminine and lively. At least she felt that way as she continued to get dressed. It wasn’t easy to find bras or lingerie that fit a woman with her bust size. A thirty-eight D cup and she was only five feet five inches tall. It was one of the reasons why she began making undergarments. She wanted to feel sexy and desirable. Although her judgment in men needed enhancement after Justin Fontain and his abusive ways, she built up her self-confidence and felt she knew better now about men. She hadn’t been in a relationship in over a year’s time, and she was fine with that. Her lingerie made other men and women very happy. Angelique pulled on her beige skort and her yellow tank top. That, too, was trimmed with lace as straps instead of a basic fabric. She tied her long black hair back into a fancy style by twisting it all to the back and securing it with multiple hair pins.

She took a final glance in the mirror before she gathered her papers and prepared to leave the house. Not bothering to lock up, because no one ever did in Orchidea, she got into her beat-up old junk of a car that her sister Illeanna helped get her and headed out to New Orleans for the day.

* * * *

“Hey, Mama, what do you think about the drawings?” Armand asked his mother as he leaned against the counter in her fabric and bead store. Although he and his brothers Marcel and Remy knew construction, their mama was insistent on being part of this special project. Even their brother Eloi, the sheriff, took a special interest. His mama looked up from the packing counter as she taped closed a large box with a special purple ribbon on it. She added a replica orchid to the packaging.

“I think that this design is better than the other one. I know this for sure. They’re going to like it. Those youngsters are going to be happy.”

He smiled as he looked over the unique and beautiful package. His mama had been packaging similar boxes for the last few months, and he was curious about what they contained. But every time he asked, she would say it was business, which meant that it was none of his business.

Armand stretched his muscles and looked at the clock on the wall. It was nearly lunch time, and his belly was yearning for a full po’boy sandwich. “Hey, Mama, what would you like from Donny’s next door?” he asked his mama.

“I take me a shorty with shrimp.”

“Okay. I’ll be back with lunch, and then I have to get back to work.”

“You take your time. You make sure Donny use the fresh breads and not yesterday’s bread. He can pull that with the tourists but not with you and me.”

Armand smiled and shook his head as he left her shop. His mama was a piece of work, and boy, did she have a temper on her. Born and raised in the swampy bayou with the gators, she worked real hard to get where she was today. Their papa worked just as hard, as well, when he started the construction business thirty years ago. Now he helped out in the office when he wasn’t out fishing.

* * * *

Angelique banged the wheel in frustration after sitting in all the tourist traffic through downtown New Orleans. Finally she made it to the section of storefronts that more locals frequented than the tourists. She found a spot to park about a block from Maw Maw Millie’s beads and material shop. Angelique loved visiting the old shop and Maw Maw Millie. Although she wasn’t a grandmother, the older woman loved people thinking of her that way. She was really sweet and always got Angelique the supplies she needed to make her special orders. The best part was that Millie promised to never reveal what Angelique was sewing and making. Maw Maw Millie was one of Angelique’s hired seamstresses and also an old friend of her mother, Augusta Aubert. Angelique sighed. She lost both her parents, Augusta and Phillip Aubert, in a car accident when she was sixteen. Her sisters helped to raise Angelique, and she was the youngest of five. The sisters took responsibility for Angelique as well as all the debt and poor family reputation. Each of the women had worked hard to reform the family name. Angelique was proud of her sisters. Angelina and Elle owned a small restaurant called Aubert’s, and Mikayla worked for a realty company, and Illeanna worked for a restaurant as a chef.

She walked past one of the bars, noting the crowds of people that gathered there. As she headed toward the storefront, she heard some scuffling and laughter behind her and then the crude comments.

“Hey, darling, where are you running off to?” someone called after her, and when she turned around, three men were closing in.

Angelique rolled her eyes in exasperation and ignored them as she continued walking. She heard their whistles as she hurried toward Millie’s storefront. They continued to make comments and demanded for her to stop and talk with them. By the sounds of their slurred speech, she knew they were drunk. The storefront was just another two stores ahead. She would find safety in Maw Maw Millie’s place.

“Hey, we’re talking to you!” She felt the hand on her shoulder and one man abruptly turn her toward them.

Instinctively she swatted his hand off her shoulder and gave her meanest look, despite their intimidating stares and aggressive appearance.

“Get your hands off of me,” she yelled then placed her hands on her hips. She took in their appearance and just knew she was in trouble. The three men were dressed like they came from the gator with their cutoff blue jean shorts and dirty shirts. They reeked of alcohol, and it was only noontime.

“I’ve been looking for you, darling. Come with me and I promise you some loving,” the tallest and bulkiest of the creeps stated as he took her wrist and pulled her toward him. She screamed, of course, and tried her hardest to pull out of his grasp. Her face wedged up against his smelly chest, and she couldn’t get loose. She felt the other two touch her ass, and one rubbed himself against her backside. She fought like a wild woman as the others continued to taunt her and touch her. It all happened in a matter of seconds. As the one slob of a big guy moved in to kiss her, the other released one of her hands, and she made her move and struck the other across his face. Her nails cut his cheek, and a second later, she was shoved toward the wall but tripped over the third drunk’s feet and landed on the ground. Angelique felt the pain as her thigh hit the concrete and scraped across the rough ground. As she attempted to get up, a dark shadow appeared, tossing the men one at a time away from her.

“Come here, darling. My boys will take care of them,” Maw Maw Millie stated as she helped Angelique to her feet. The consoling touch made her realize that she was out of immediate danger, but she could hear the chaos going on behind her.

“You okay, sugar?” someone asked, and when she looked up, she locked gazes with a very tan and handsome man with big green eyes. He was breathtaking as she covered her chest with her hand over her heart and took an unsteady breath. Looking around his muscular frame, she saw someone wearing dark, black jeans and a light-brown shirt handcuffing the three men who attacked her. The three men were cursing and carrying on, but her attention was drawn between the scene by the alley and the man leaning over her. Then she noticed the flashing lights along with his gun and holster. The damn sheriff was there.

“The sheriff is taking care of them, so you’re safe now,” the handsome stranger told her as his thick, deep Cajun voice soothed over her skin, sending shivers over her flesh. She had never felt such a reaction to a stranger and certainly not a man before. It was disconcerting as she feared the reaction, never mind the eye candy.

“About time he showed up. It’s the middle of the damn day and a woman can’t walk down the street!” Angelique stated, sounding annoyed and angry to her own ears. She could just imagine what Millie and the handsome stranger thought. She was shaking now and knew her temper was her fear showing. Angelique was the least confrontational person.

“Let me help you.” The man ignored her outburst as she absorbed his mesmerizing green eyes while she took in his handsome features. He was very tall. Much taller than her, but most people were. The stranger smiled at Millie before lifting Angelique into his arms.

“I can walk,” Angelique protested in a weak, breathless tone in surprise at the man’s brazenness, but he ignored her as he pulled her closer to his chest, and he walked her into Millie’s store. He smelled real good in comparison to the drunk men outside. Her body trembled from the feel of all those muscles surrounding her, and she panicked.

“Those troublemakers at it again, Armand,” Millie complained as she hustled Angelique and the sexy stranger over toward a bench. She thought he had a really nice name.

“Eloi will take care of it,” Armand replied as he set Angelique gently down on the bench.

“I’m okay,” she insisted, feeling her belly quiver and other parts begin to burn inside from the sight of this sexy creature. How come she had never seen him before? He had dark-brown hair pulled back in a low pony, very tan skin, and sparkling green eyes. He was gorgeous, and boy, did her body know it.

“Angelique, are you okay?” Millie asked as she passed the first-aid kit over to the man she called Armand.

“I’m just a little shaken up, Maw Maw. Really I’m fine, so if you just let me down,” she began to say when the man called Armand gently but firmly placed his hand on her thigh to hold her in place.

“You’re injured. Let me take care of this cut,” he stated firmly as he pointed to her thigh and the blood that now dripped down her calf. She immediately noticed the blood along her beige skort, and she cursed the drunks. Armand made her nervous, and the fact that his warm, large fingers caressed her skin as he whispered to her made her fidgety. She wiggled a little, trying to break his hold. Did he even know that he was caressing her skin? She avoided his dark, sexy eyes and focused on trying to comprehend the instant attraction to the stranger.

“Oh crap! How am I going to get this off?” she stated as she looked at the material.

“That the least of your problems,” someone else stated in a thick, rich Cajun accent. The sound instantly made her jump as if someone of authority and strength had spoken. She swallowed hard. When she looked up, she saw that the words came from the sheriff. Damn, he was just as dangerous looking as Armand, except this guy was taller than Armand by an inch or so and angry looking. He was thick around the waist and muscular. He kind of reminded her of a football player, except his facial expression and stance were like one of those mean, strict lawmen. He didn’t look over forty nor like some old timer, but he didn’t look approachable either. As his dark, black eyes looked her over, she could see them sparkling with mischief. Damn, that man could eat her alive with his eyes. She self-consciously wiggled again and looked for Maw Maw. Who were these guys anyway? Maw Maw, having earned the nickname meaning grandmother despite the fact that she wasn’t even a grandmother, must have sensed Angelique’s uneasiness as she spoke.

“These two take good care of you. They’re my boys, and no one can take care of you better than them.”

Her sons? That’s right. Maw Maw told her one day that she had four sons. Damn, they were mighty fine looking. Angelique wondered if the others were just as good looking as these two. She looked up toward the sheriff again, and he had moved closer as his eyes appeared angrier, and he stared at her leg.

She looked down at her thigh then up again at the sheriff as Armand began to tend to her wound.

“How bad is it?” the sheriff asked.

“Just a cut. I’m fixing this up good,” Armand stated then rubbed his thumb against Angelique’s knee as he applied ointment to the cut.

“I’m fine really. I can do this myself,” she began to say when the sheriff spoke.

“You best stay sitting right there and Armand fix that better than new. I’m going to need you to sign a statement to press charges.” He was firm as he spoke, intimidating her into silence. She could smell his cologne and sensed his authoritative nature and large build. For a moment she was mesmerized by him and by Armand. She compared their features and noticed the similarities they shared as kin. Then the sheriff took out a notepad and started asking her questions like her name, address, and other contact information.

“I don’t want to press charges, Sheriff. They were just drunk and probably from moonshine,” she replied but wouldn’t look at him. He was powerful, and any fool could see that. As a matter of fact, she felt compelled to obey him and listen when he spoke. It was so odd. There were lawmen back in Orchidea that she respected, but this guy was scary. Messing with him would probably be an unwise thing to do.

She really needed to place some space between herself and these men. Her body was heating up, and her nipples pebbled beneath the tank she wore. Her sisters told her that she was a bad judge of character when it came to men. If her body was any indication of her response to these men, then her sisters were probably right. She crossed her arms in front of her chest, trying to hide her body’s reaction to the two men as well as appear confident. She didn’t need any trouble, and she didn’t need her sisters finding out about this incident.

Suddenly she felt the fingers under her chin as Armand tilted her face up toward him. She locked gazes with his green eyes and tried to maintain an even breathing.

“Those boys are nothing but bad news,
aimé
. They could have hurt you,” he told her as he caressed her chin. His expression and tone held true concern.

“I’m fine really.
Merci beaucoup
,” she replied and turned her chin slowly from his fingers then began to get up from the bench in order to place some much-needed distance between them. The man was too hot to handle, and the sheriff was just plain scary. He was watching her, and although she wasn’t guilty of any crime, she felt his gaze upon her, which caused tiny sensations of anxiety and concerns fill her.

“Where do you live?” the sheriff asked as she walked closer to the counter where Maw Maw was pulling supplies together, including a package decorated in the traditional “Secret Pleasures” trademark purple orchid and purple ribbon.

“By any chance have you gotten any new beads in?” Angelique asked as she began to look through the bins to ignore the sheriff and his brother. Maybe if she pretended that they weren’t there, then they would get the hint and disappear. Her fingers nimbly flipped through the various beads in the one bin containing her favorite color, purple.

“I got that package you ordered last week right here. I should be getting my own order any day now. That might have some beads that will interest you,” Maw Maw stated then plopped the package onto the counter.

“Oh great! I think I’ll take some of these here and these ones in this here bin, too,” Angelique told Maw Maw as she pointed to the second bin. Maw Maw walked over with two empty boxes and began to add the beads.

“What are you making, sugar?” the sheriff asked, eyeing her and looking like he was suspicious. The way he rested his hand on his holster and kept his hat down low over his eyes made her fearful. She was stuck in a bad situation and needed to get moving. She wouldn’t make eye contact with him. He was just too intimidating, and his brother was too damn sexy for words. Her age and inexperience with men was making her act rather sophomoric, yet she couldn’t get herself to pretend to be anything other than herself. Her sister Mikayla would probably bat her long, thick eyelashes and even lick her lips as she eyed the candy, but that just wasn’t Angelique.

“Just some stuff. Nothing exciting,” she replied then placed the beads on the counter alongside the box of ordered items.