Scent of a Woman (14 page)

“I made a few bad investments with company money in an effort to offset some of our setbacks.”

“Bad investments?” Adam stepped back from the terrace and looked up at the second floor. A light was on in a room with a small balcony and he wondered if Danielle was in there.

Marcel shrugged, threading his finger through some vines covered with small pink flowers.

“At first it was a land deal that turned sour. Then there was the organic flower farm that I thought would be a nice fit and turned out to be a scam.”

Adam didn’t comment, figuring the guy must realize how naive he’d been to commit his dollars to projects he hadn’t thoroughly researched first. Adam knew a guy back home who had lost the family fortune the same way, investing his money before he’d done his homework. The guy had lost his house, his company, his family. Everything.

“So Les Rêves’s assets are…gone?” He couldn’t imagine what the news had done to Danielle. Thinking about her sitting alone upstairs grappling with that news made him angry at her brother.

“Not completely. We are financially devastated, perhaps, but not devoid of assets.” Marcel released the pink flowers, knocking two to the ground without noticing. “I just wanted to make her aware of the situation before she took on additional commitments for Les Rêves. I thought we’d be able to handle the production for the Dubai retail account if she lands it. God knows we need it. But the more I looked at the books, the more I worried maybe I should tell her first so she might consider an offer to just sell the business outright. I had hoped she would simply take the offer from Panache.”

The look of wary hopefulness in the guy’s eyes told Adam how far out of touch with reality Marcel remained.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Adam yanked on a wrought-iron chair and dropped into it, bowled over by how blind a person could be. “Didn’t you hear her a minute ago? She’ll never sell the business. She doesn’t care about salvaging any money out of this. She cares about saving a company that means the world to her because it represents a passion she shared with her mother.”

“So you won’t make an offer for the business?”

“No offense, man, but you might want to back out of her business before you make things even worse. She deserves to be able to figure out where to go from here on her own.”

Adam shook his head. He half wished he wouldn’t win the International Markets account now. Except that Danielle wouldn’t appreciate winning a bid he rigged. And he couldn’t be the kind of guy that sold out his own family the way Marcel had.

Damn it.

If he bought Les Rêves, Danielle would be as devastated as her finances. But if he won the Dubai account with Ahmed, he’d essentially be running her out of business anyway.

“In that case, maybe it’s best I leave.” Marcel pulled a set of keys out of his pocket.

“Why? So you can run out on her now, too?” Adam tossed the same accusation in Marcel’s face that the guy had launched at him earlier.

“She doesn’t want me here.” Marcel tossed the keys in the air so they glinted in the porch light.

“I’m sorry to say that’s one thing we seem to have in common.”

A
DAM LISTENED TO
Marcel’s sports car roar away into the night, then slumped down into a wrought-iron chair on the front terrace, not sure where to go next.

He would be on
Alexandra’s Dream
tomorrow afternoon for his final meeting with Ahmed. He’d made sure the family’s pilot remained on duty nearby to take him to Marseilles, where the ship docked next.

But should he leave now? Danielle obviously didn’t want to see him in light of her business problems, but at least he had uncovered the mystery about why she’d stood him up for their date in Villefranche earlier. She hadn’t been jet-setting around the globe for the hell of it. She’d been immersed in damage control.

Which left him…where?

He tipped back in the chair, balancing the wrought-iron seat on two legs while he breathed in the scent of the night. Flowers bloomed in shiny black pots around the front door, making the air fragrant. Thanks to Danielle, he appreciated the scents more than he would have in the past. He’d sent women flowers more times than he could count, never thinking of the smell or stopping to customize the choice for the woman.

Still, he was nowhere near the expert that Danielle was. She would be able to identify every component of that floral blend winding its way around his senses at the moment. She was a connoisseur in her field, a professional with all the credentials he lacked.

Perhaps that’s what made her predicament all the more unfair. No matter how much of an expert she was, she possibly wouldn’t land the International Markets account because Adam’s industry connections and marketing savvy could bring the retailer a fatter bottom line in a shorter amount of time.

That wasn’t his ego talking, although he’d certainly let that run free often enough in the past. He simply knew Ahmed couldn’t afford to make the more edgy—and risky—decision.

The fact only reinforced Adam’s concern that Danielle hadn’t faced her last professional hardship this week. On top of her brother’s betrayal, she would be dealing with the loss of a potential account. Of course, maybe she’d be relieved since her brother’s schemes might have reduced Les Rêves’s ability to fulfill the orders a large account would require.

Whatever the outcome, it would be disappointing for her and might mean she wouldn’t be returning to the cruise ship. In which case, Adam figured he’d better make an effort to say goodbye to her tonight.

He felt weight on his chest at the idea, but he wouldn’t leave without trying to thank her. Danielle Chevalier had done more than teach him about scents and the perfume business this week. After twenty years of keeping a frenetic pace in the workplace, Adam had learned the benefits of taking a little down time. Danielle had helped him see that pleasure wasn’t something frivolous.

It was a vital way to recharge himself, and he refused to miss out any more.

F
ROM THE GARDEN
in the backyard, Danielle could hear someone walking through the house.

Marcel? Or could it be Adam?

She’d heard a car speed away half an hour ago, but she wasn’t certain if it was Marcel or Adam. Pausing between two pillars covered in bougainvillea, she sipped a cup of hot tea and listened as she wrapped her arm around herself in her silk pajamas and long robe that were her nod to comfort clothes. She told herself she didn’t care who it was walking this way because she didn’t particularly want to talk with either of them tonight. Her anger with Marcel wouldn’t dissipate for a long time after what he’d done.

And Adam…

She wasn’t sure how she felt about his arrival in Paris right in the middle of her professional crisis. Was he responding to Marcel’s call for offers from interested investors? Or had he come for less mercenary reasons?

She didn’t know because she hadn’t given him a chance to explain himself. But then, her passionate nature had led her astray more than once in the past. She needed to learn to control her emotions better if she was going to pull her company out of this mess.

“Wow.”

The masculine voice on the other side of the garden startled her even though she’d known someone was coming, and across the shadowy shapes of overgrown plants and untended fruit trees, Danielle spied Adam’s outline in the moonlight.

“You’re still here.” She walked a path of small mosaic stepping stones she’d made herself as a teenager. The brightly colored rock tiles had been gifts for her mother for birthdays and Christmases for five years, resulting in a path of ten brightly colored stones.

Danielle wished all of life’s trails were marked so clearly.

“I’ll head out soon.” He moved closer, his shadowy outline kick-starting something inside her despite the events of past few hours.

What would it be like to have someone to lean on when life turned rough? That was one experience she’d never had as an adult. The thought made her as uncomfortable as it made her wistful.

“I did not mean to be rude earlier.” She ducked under a low-hanging branch of an orange tree toward the center of the old garden. “I cut you off when you were trying to talk to me and—”

“I don’t know all the details, but I gather you’ve had one hell of a day.” The low notes of his voice soothed her.

“My brother seems to have been leading a bit of a double life.” She found the fountain at the garden’s heart and took a seat on the stone bench across from it, settling her teacup at her feet as she plucked a fragrant wisteria bloom. “I find it frustrating that he could take financial chances with Les Rêves’s assets, and yet his Italian sports car is still available for trips around town.”

Leaning forward on the bench, she smoothed a hand across the edge of the fountain base, which was shaped like an open shell. A nude Venus reclined in the center, her hair cascading in waves of stone. It was one of her mother’s earliest pieces, before she had turned to painting for good. What it lacked in artistic merit, it made up for in emotional appeal and captivated garden visitors.

“What will you do with the company? Did he leave you with enough to continue operations?” Adam joined her on the bench.

The scent of his cologne had faded but she could catch a light hint of hyssop on the night breeze. The warm strength of him beside her bolstered her spirits even though she knew he had come to say goodbye.

So much for having someone to lean on. She released the silly fantasy as surely as she let a wisteria bloom float away from her grip along the water swirling in the fountain.

“I am unsure until I have an independent analyst come in and make some sense of the books. I will buy out my brother, however. We will never work together again, at least not in a partnership capacity.”

Her life would change exponentially from here on. Marcel’s betrayal stung bitterly. He had learned about fragrances beside her at their mother’s knee. They had shared the same upbringing. The same unconditional love.

“If it’s any consolation, I think your brother regrets what he did.”

Such thoughts couldn’t make their way through the ache of Marcel’s betrayed.

“Maybe one day that will comfort me. Today—it does not seem to help.”

“I didn’t come here tonight because of your brother, by the way.” Adam scooped up a jasmine bough that needed trimming. Bending to the branch, he buried his nose among the flowers and breathed deeply.

“You didn’t?” She hadn’t wanted to believe he’d come all this way to try to buy out her business. And yet, what other reason could there be?

“No. I’d just been talking to Joe before I got your message and he’d been saying—” He released the branch, the jasmine leaves sliding along the ground. “The scent reminds me of you.”

The simple compliment soothed her. He might not be here for long, but she couldn’t stop herself from soaking up what little time—comfort—she could from him for now.

She broke off a sprig of flowers and tucked it in his jacket like a boutonniere.

“I fell in love with jasmine while I lived in this house. It was my favorite scent until we took the country house and I found a few others that I thought were fair rivals.” She backtracked to his earlier remark. “What did your brother have to say when you spoke to him?”

“He’d been reading up on you after our photo appeared in the Italian press.”

Things fell into place now, and she wasn’t sure she liked this new reason for Adam’s appearance any better than the one she’d feared. Her hands fell away from his jacket. Instead of coming to Paris to pick over the remains of Les Rêves, he’d come to test the truth of her party-girl reputation.

“I see. I told you I had a wild side, but you did not believe it until you heard it from your brother. Yet we seem to share the ability to attract gossip. Is it possible you are a man who subscribes to the double standard?”

She rose from the bench, her body tense from deflecting blows all day. She would not have thought that such a small thing as Adam doubting her word would hurt this much. She should be numb by now.

“Absolutely not.” His conviction was admirable. “I told you I don’t buy half the crap that appears in papers and I meant it. But I had to wonder why you hadn’t really shared your own run-ins with the vultures of the society pages when I told you about mine. You didn’t tell me—Hell. You didn’t tell me.”

Hadn’t she? Funny, she remembered things differently.

“I told you I was often misjudged. And I told you I had a wild reputation, but you did not believe me since you saw a more sophisticated woman than your publicity-seeking actress.” She shrugged, some of the fire returning to her. She ignored the tiny voice in her head that told her she was using anger to cover a deeper pain. “I cannot help that you did not believe me, and I will not apologize for not trotting out every sordid little tidbit that’s printed about me every time I step into the social arena where I conduct most of my business. Now if that’s all, I’m going to bed and you can flag down your private pilot and tell him our business here is most definitely finished.”

She had a head of steam and was ready to tear through the garden and into the house when his arms snaked around her waist, and preventing her from going anywhere.

“Wait,” he said.

“Let go.” She spoke through clenched teeth, holding back the anger. And yes, the hurt.

“Listen.” His fingers tightened on her waist and she couldn’t deny an immediate, physical reaction that was anything but unpleasant.

“Have I not heard quite enough?” She held herself stiff, so many emotions running through her she couldn’t tell what she felt anymore.

“No. Because you don’t know that I realized I was thinking with my pride instead of my head.”

He spun her around to face him, and when she saw the fire in Adam’s eyes, some of the stiffness slid from her shoulders.

“Will you come back to the ship after all this?” His grip on her loosened and she realized she didn’t want to walk away.

She hadn’t given much thought to the cruise, but it would probably be foolish to return to
Alexandra’s Dream
. “I’ve given my final pitch to Ahmed. There is no more I can do but await his decision, which I can do here as easily as there.”

“The promise of darts won’t lure you back then?” His lopsided smile told her he was teasing and yet—

Did he hope for more between them despite their carefully set ground rules?

“The threat of my business going under is a strong incentive for me to stay. I am not the party girl I am accused of being. I care about Les Rêves.”

He absorbed her words slowly, as if he were considering arguing with her. Or, perhaps, trying to change her mind. In the end, however, he simply nodded.

“Then it’s a damn good thing I followed you.”

“Oui?”

“Yes. Because now at least I’ll get to say goodbye.”

Her heart constricted at those words, then his lips met hers.

Adam’s arms around her blocked out everything but the scents of the blossoms and warm earth. She tilted her head up to receive his kiss, the sweet stroke of his tongue breathing life into her when she felt so defeated. He stirred her as no other man ever had, and with only a kiss. She lost herself in that sensation, allowing the moment to spin out until they were both breathing hard.

“Maybe I should come back to the ship just to gather my things,” she heard herself saying, drunk on kisses and the thought of the days she’d miss being with Adam. The nights.

He cradled her face in his hands.

“Then I won’t say goodbye yet.” His thumb caressed her cheek. “Good night, Danielle. And don’t worry about the business. You’re too talented to let Marcel’s mistakes pull you under.”

She wanted to ask him more about that. She could have used a few encouraging words on a day that had all but sucked the life out of her. But when she pried open her eyes in the wake of that mind-drugging kiss, Adam had gone.

A
S A LIFELONG COMPETITOR
in every area of his life, Adam understood that not every triumph tasted sweet. Some were tainted by coming too easily, and others—like this one—were disappointing because you knew you shouldn’t have won in the first place.

Adam had received the call from Ahmed the day after he’d pitched his concept to the retailer. Ahmed had offered Adam the lead contract—a tidy sum that had Joe turning cartwheels. Adam’s supporters back in New York raked in a hefty sum from the naysayers who didn’t think he could close a perfume deal. Ahmed had told Adam he was awarding a secondary contract to Danielle for a lesser amount of money to distribute the Les Rêves brand in select high-end markets. Ahmed planned to call Danielle at her shop in Nice to seal the deal and fax over the contract.

That was the last Adam had heard about her, since she hadn’t put in an appearance on the ship again. Adam hadn’t bothered attending the final conference banquet or the industry awards the last night of the cruise. His heart was no longer in the job.

Now, as he sat in his office in New York a week later, he couldn’t stop thinking about her. Nor could he get rid of the bitter taste in his mouth left by his business victory.

Sure he’d won the contract. Burns Inc. would be better able to handle his father’s retirement with a solid profit-generating account in place for their largest company. The Burns Foundation would profit, too, and had already received a check based on the retainer Adam had received to begin work. Two of the foundation’s recipients had called to thank him and their appreciation over the donation had been the highlight of winning the contract.