Scent of a Woman (2 page)

The perfume conference delegates were obvious in their more businesslike attire. They congregated in groups around a display of six-foot-tall perfume bottles that had been set up as a focal point for the conference attendees. Each sculpture was sponsored by a perfumer in attendance and was decorated by that company’s creative team.

“Can I get you a drink, miss?” A handsome young server in a white uniform held a notepad in his hand, his accent hinting at Russian descent.

“Sparkling water with a lemon,
s’il vous plaît
.” She would put off that martini for a little while to focus on business.

The server nodded and hurried away, leaving her to make her way to an empty spot at the rail. A soft wind blew her hair away from her face as she soaked up the moment, using all five of her senses to appreciate the day on every level—the way her mother the painter had said life should be enjoyed. Many perfumers took the same approach, a fact attested to by the wealth of workshops offered this week on the connection between fragrance and the senses.

“Monique?”

An older gentleman in a pin-striped seersucker suit paused beside her at the rail, forcing his friend—a younger man dressed more casually in khakis and a black polo shirt—to stop beside her, as well.

She recognized the older man as Jonathan Nordham, the retired owner of one of England’s few top-notch fragrance companies.

“It is Danielle, Monsieur Nordham,” she greeted him easily in English, knowing she looked a great deal like her late mother, “and it is wonderful to see you. Are you attending the conference with your daughter?”

“Forgive me for my mistake, Danielle. You look so much like your mother when I first met her.” He rapped his forehead. “My daughter says I live in the past more often than the present.”

“I consider it a compliment to be mistaken for my mother,
monsieur
. And how is your daughter?”

“She’s at home taking care of my first grandchild—at long last.” A wide smile broke over his weathered face as he retrieved a monogrammed handkerchief from his breast pocket. “I don’t tell her how to run the company now that I’m out of the business, but I can still lay down a few laws as a father, and I insisted she enjoy her time home with young Jonathan whenever she can.”

The old man beamed with pride as he mopped his forehead beneath a white straw hat.

“Congratulations.” Danielle spoke the word in the same breath as Monsieur Nordham’s younger friend.

His younger, extremely attractive friend, she noticed. The man was tall with wavy, dark hair and blue eyes that could have belonged to a European, yet Danielle would bet her new fragrance line that the man was an American. There was a restless tension about him even when he stood still, almost as if standing still was an occupation that was foreign or uncomfortable to him. Danielle had noticed the same restrained energy in many of her American friends and business associates.

Although none of them were quite as wickedly handsome as this man, even in clothing that was decidedly casual for the perfumers’ set.

“Pardon me, where are my manners?” Nordham shoved his handkerchief aside and made room for the server bringing Danielle’s water. “Danielle, may I introduce Adam Burns of Prestige Scents? Adam, this fetching young lady is Danielle Chevalier, and she runs one of the most innovative and exclusive French fragrance companies on the market today. Les Rêves has been making organic scents since long before the current trend toward natural ingredients.”

Shifting her glass of sparkling water, Danielle extended her hand.

“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Burns.”

“The pleasure is all mine,” he returned, squeezing her hand in a grip that was slightly more forceful than that of most European men.

Curious about why his name hadn’t been listed as a Prestige representative, she found herself holding his gaze along with his hand. He looked vaguely familiar, although she was certain she would have remembered if they’d met. A woman did not forget such a sharp physical reaction to a man, and Danielle could count on one hand the number of times she’d felt that in her life.

Of course, as Marcel would be quick to remind her, each of those meetings had only hurt her in the long run.

“You are not Joseph.” She didn’t realize she’d spoken out loud until a short bark of laughter escaped Adam’s lips.

Monsieur Nordham backed up a step.

“Will you young folks excuse an old man while you get to know one another? The heat is a bit much for me and I have heard rumors that there is an English tearoom on board.”

“Certainly,” Danielle assured him, realizing belatedly she still held Adam Burns’s hand. She eased her fingers out of his palm and cleared her throat. “I think the ship map said the tearoom is on deck six. Maybe I will join you tomorrow?”

“That would be lovely.” The older man was off with a wave, leaving Danielle alone with the entirely too good-looking Prestige rep.

“Don’t let him fool you,” Adam said in a conspiratorial whisper. “He needs to get out of the heat because he wants to access the flask of vilely strong alcohol in his jacket pocket. It’s been twenty minutes since he offered me a nip and my throat’s still burning.”

She liked sharing this small secret with him, their lowered voices creating the illusion of intimacy. And yet, that sense of being able to share confidences had once tricked her into revealing far too much. Straightening, she resisted the urge to lower her voice.

“He offered to share his brandy with you?” She wondered if Adam knew what a compliment that was. “Monsieur Nordham must have been impressed with you—he guards his stash like liquid gold, no?”

“Really?” Adam moved closer to the rail, out of the flow of servers and passengers congregating near the buffet line that was snaking its way through the pool area. “In that case, I wish I hadn’t lapsed into a fit of hacking.”

“If you take tea with him, you can pour your nip into your Earl Grey to take the edge off.”

“Ah. It pays to be an insider, I see.” He leaned on the rail, his tanned forearms drawing her eye even more strongly than the Greek coast. “But since I’m a stand-in for my brother on this cruise, I have to learn all the subtleties of the fragrance industry for myself.”

“Your brother is Joseph?” she clarified, more curious than she should be. But then, she told herself, her brother’s directive was to seek out the Prestige rep. It was hardly her fault that he just happened to have the smile of a Hollywood movie star and the physique of a World Cup player.

“Joseph is my brother,” he confirmed, catching her staring at his hands. “He called me yesterday to beg off this trip because of a few broken ribs and a busted-up leg.”

With a wink and a smile he turned his attention from her to the miles of blue water refracting sunlight off every ripple. She was grateful he didn’t seem inclined to press her into flirtation even though she’d been staring at him.

Then again, did that mean he wasn’t interested? The moment of mild indignation she felt told her she had better set boundaries with this man. Fast.

“Many people would be thrilled to sail the most romanticized stretch of water in the world.” She spoke English to Adam as she had to Monsieur Nordham.

All around them, however, a mix of languages could be heard as conference attendees found ways to communicate. During the workshops, information would be translated into English, French, Spanish and German so that everyone could be easily understood.

“The itinerary sounds great,” he admitted, “but I’ll let you in on a secret.”

She would not let herself lean any closer to the enticing Mr. Burns. Not with the fate of her store in Nice on the line this week.

“I am listening.”

“I know far more about the marketing of our product line than the actual fragrance aspect.”

Now that was interesting.

“How perfectly shocking. I would not repeat that to anyone else here.” She glanced over the small group of perfume reps that lingered by the display.

“Not knowing much about perfume is going to get me in a lot of trouble?”

“No.” She turned back to Adam and was startled to see him staring at her intently. A little thrill shot through her before she remembered this attraction was a very bad idea. Unsure of herself, she kept talking to cover the awkward moment. “Your marketing knowledge would certainly be envied by this crowd, when so many of the old fragrances houses are sliding into bankruptcy. But to admit you do not know the finer points of perfume making? Sacrilege. Perfumers love their scents the way a vintner does his grapes and all their subtleties.”

“I see.” He nodded thoughtfully. “Maybe if you had time this week, you could share a little knowledge with me, just to get me through the cruise.”

Spend more time with an attractive man in the same industry? She’d been burned once by trusting that business could be kept separate from pleasure and had jeopardized her company in the process. But she needed to cultivate a professional relationship with Prestige Scents as a security measure for the future of Les Rêves.

Danielle would just have to make sure her relationship with Adam Burns maintained certain boundaries.

“Actually, I planned to seek out the rep from your company for a meeting this week. Do you have time tomorrow?”

She could have asked anyone else on board for an appointment without flushing, but not Adam.

“You want a meeting?” He sounded a little surprised.

“Yes.”

“I was thinking more in terms of a date.”

She froze.

“What?”

“A date. You know, one man and one woman. We talk about each other instead of business.” He gestured back and forth between them to stress the personal nature of his proposal. “Have fun instead of scrambling to impress each other with how many accounts we’re servicing.”

He paused, looking at her for a reaction, but she didn’t have the slightest idea what to say. She was tempted. Lord, she was tempted. His speech fed into every “live for the moment” fiber of her being.

But she was trying to change that part of her nature.

“So what do you say, Danielle?” he pressed, his powerful body shifting ever so slightly in her direction. “Why not take a chance?”

H
E SHOULDN’T HAVE
made his move so fast.

Adam could see that he’d jumped ahead of himself when she’d asked for a meeting to talk shop. But he’d taken one look at her and
bam
. Danielle Chevalier was just the woman he wanted to end his two-months-long dry spell. The perfect candidate for a shipboard fling. Why couldn’t he have just let the attraction take its course? He knew he wasn’t the only one who felt the sparks.

“Unfortunately, Monsieur Burns, I take chances too often for my own good.” Her killer French accent would turn on any man with a pulse.

But her words forced him to stop and think. Did a wild woman lurk beneath Danielle’s sophisticated exterior? She wore her sundress with serious attitude. No flip-flops or blue toenail polish for this woman. Her strappy heels showcased pale pink toes while her slim dress tied around her throat to show off trim shoulders and a willowy figure. Glossy dark hair spilled down her back, and her lips were outlined in a soft red Cupid’s bow, the color designed to catch and hold a man’s attention. Although Prestige Scents had a small beauty division, Adam acknowledged that the tidbit about red lipstick was the sum total of what he knew about the cosmetics market.

“So you’re a wild woman most of the time, but not adventurous enough to spend an evening with a clueless American who doesn’t know brandy from grain alcohol?” Okay, that part might stretch the truth since he knew Nordham’s stashed brew had to be something high-brow even if it tasted godawful. “I hear the observation deck offers a hell of a view.”

He didn’t know why he couldn’t back off even when his head told him not to pursue a woman who wasn’t interested in romance. But the urge to compete for her attention was too damn elemental to ignore and he couldn’t walk away from the challenge.

“Is that right?” Lowering her head to sip her water, she seemed to hide a smile. “Do you speak of a view of the ocean? The stars? Or are you suggesting I might view you more favorably under the influence of both?”

A hint of her scent rode the ocean breeze, enticing him to continue this quest he didn’t understand but couldn’t stop.

“I don’t mean to suggest I’ll look any better, that’s for sure. I’m more of a wysiwyg—what you see is what you get—kind of guy.” He meant to retreat into more mundane topics, afraid she might take off if he pushed her further, then he found himself asking something very personal. “So tell me, Danielle, what kind of scent does a fragrance guru choose for herself?”

Judging by her swiftly changing expression, he could tell the question intrigued her as much as it did him. He might know little about fragrances, but he had the suspicion that Danielle’s answer would tell him a lot about the type of woman she was.

She arched one eyebrow high as he absently waved away a waiter wanting to offer them appetizers.

“You cannot tell the overriding notes of my scent,
monsieur?
”

“Call me Adam.” He wanted to get on a first-name basis with her, but he had to admit hearing “
monsieur
” roll off her lips proved a sensual experience all its own.

“You are unfamiliar with the components of my fragrance, Adam?” Her accent made the name sound exotic, the stress falling on the latter half.
A-dam
.

“I know you smell great.” That was an understatement. What her scent did to him was way beyond P.G.

“I see you need my help more than I first realized.” She turned away from the rail and their illusion of privacy. The captain’s welcome reception was starting to break up as people returned to their rooms to dress for dinner. “I do not think I can accept the invitation for a date, but I would not mind taking in the sights at the observation deck after dinner tonight.”

He wanted to push her to join him for dinner. And, yeah, he realized that nothing spurred him forward more than someone telling him no. But something told him to hold back when it came to Danielle. Adam was a born persuader. Marketing was his forte, and he knew he could seal the deal with the Dubai retailer with his eyes closed. But Danielle Chevalier posed a far more unique opportunity for…what? A midnight kiss? A few dinners? Something more? He didn’t know.

But he did know he wanted whatever she might offer. Even if it was just the chance to smell her perfume again.

“That would be great. Should we meet upstairs on the Helios deck at ten-thirty?”

Nodding, she backed up a step toward the electronic doors leading into the stairwell and elevator bank.

“Ten-thirty.” She spun on her heel and walked away, her sleek stride that of a woman who knew how to carry herself.

Hot damn.

If Adam could market himself half as well as he could market the goods and services that had come under the Burns Inc. umbrella over the last decade, he’d be wooing Danielle into much more than a few conversations about perfume.

“S
O
I
GATHER
I would be able to sniff out individual ingredients in a woman’s fragrance if I was a real perfumer, right?”

Danielle watched Adam settle into a deck chair beside her from their quiet corner on the observation deck that night. When she had arrived, he had already tugged the loungers into an isolated space and had a bottle of Riesling with two glasses ready on a small table between them. For her part, she was grateful to leave the perfume conference behind for the night.

As much as she loved what she did, she had been seated next to a glass manufacturer at dinner and he’d talked for two and a half hours straight about bottle making, pumps and atomizers. Danielle thought she knew enough now that she could set up her own factory if she was so inclined.

She took her first sip of the wine while she thought about Adam’s question.

“Perfume is like music, with layers of notes the discerning artist can pick out immediately in an elaborate composition. Because Les Rêves is particularly noted for its organic fragrances, our scents tend to be more overt and less synthetically layered, making it all the easier for a perfumer to detect the notes.” She did not add that she took great pride in the layer of complexity they had achieved at Les Rêves in spite of their commitment to organic products. Their palette might be less extensive, but their array of scents within that framework was impressive.

“So I need to learn the notes first.” Adam tipped his head back against his teak lounger and seemed to search the sky. He had removed his dinner jacket and his stark white shirt almost glowed in the pale wash of moonlight that played over them.

“When my mother taught me about scents, she took me in her garden and had me smell everything—the leaves, the petals, the bark of all the trees.” The memory washed over Danielle with gentle joy. Her summers with
Maman
at the vacation house in Nice had been filled with painting and playing. Too soon she had realized that not everyone approved of having fun as a worthwhile way to spend time. “Those were the notes for me. Learning to recognize the bouquet of nature.”

She sipped her wine, holding a mouthful on her tongue to savor each flavor before simply enjoying the harmony of tastes.

“Danielle, would you excuse me for just a minute?” Adam sprang to his feet, setting his wineglass on the table beside hers. “Literally a minute. No more.”

“I will not time you,” she declared, amused at his desire for speed. “A French woman does not need a stopwatch to measure increments of life.”

“Excuse me.” He spun on his heel and stalked away to the stairs leading down to the main lounge.

Danielle tipped her head back to count the stars, dazzled by the night sky spread above her as if for her pleasure alone. She had barely gotten herself oriented to the constellations when Adam returned, a big bouquet of flowers in hand.

“Oh, no.” Shaking her head, she smiled. “You did not swipe flowers for a private lesson, did you?”

“I rented them for an hour with twenty bucks and a promise to bring them back.” He set the glass vase on the table between them, moving the wine bottle to the floor to make room.

“There is not much here aside from roses.” Sitting up to explore the bouquet, she turned so that her feet rested on the floor. “You are familiar with the scent of roses, no?”

“Definitely.” He nodded. “But let me take a smell to remind myself.”

He leaned in close to the flower and breathed deeply. The vase was packed mostly with pink roses and pink tulips, but there were a few other flowers woven in with the greenery around the edges.

“The bell-shaped flowers are tulips,” Danielle said. “Their fragrance is much more subtle, but we use them sometimes.”

“And this?” He held up a sprig of white flowers with greenery.

“That is chamomile.”

“Like the tea?”

“Exactly. Although the scent is different when the flowers are fresh.”

She identified the remaining flowers and blooms for him and then took another sip of her wine while he sniffed away.

“All right.” He closed his eyes. “Test me.”

“You think you are ready for a quiz so soon?” She admired his commitment to learn something about the business he represented and wondered if he pursued everything in his life with such intensity.

Now, peering at him in the moonlight, she decided there was something intriguing about a man with his eyes closed. Danielle toyed with the idea of waving her fingers in front of his face to make sure he was not peeking. Or maybe it would be more fun to lean near him, her lips close to his.

The thought sent a shiver down her spine. Plucking a bloom from the vase, she shook the stem gently to remove the excess water and then held it inches from his nose.

“You’re being too easy on me,” Adam scoffed. “That’s the rose.”

“An expert already then?” She pulled a fern out from underneath the layers of flowers and held it close to his face. She waved one hand behind the plant to generate a small breeze to carry the scent to him. “Then what do you smell now?”

“The fern.” He didn’t even hesitate.

“You are cheating,” she accused, convinced a novice would not have been able to pick that one out.

He opened his eyes, no trace of guilt on his handsome face.

“I didn’t cheat by looking.” He took the fern from her and sniffed it again. “But I knew you would think the greenery was the toughest to gauge so I figured that’s what you’d go for when you wanted to stump me.”

“That was very clever of you, Adam, but it hardly improves your scent education.” Danielle watched him turn the fern around and around between his fingers before he used it to fan her face.

“Yet it continues my education in marketing, which is all based on psychology and the consumer mind-set.” He stopped fanning to look at her.
Really
look at her. “The more I understand how people think, the easier my job becomes.”

His unadulterated stare was as intense as the rest of him, and Danielle felt something shift between them. The chemistry she had sensed from the moment they met now became much more evident. The social niceties they’d hidden behind earlier fell away to reveal an intense awareness of one another.

“So you believe you know how I think?” Danielle retreated behind her wineglass, needing to break the powerful connection. How could she let her guard down so easily with this man?

Adam Burns was her competitor in a business that guarded its secrets jealously. She would do well to remember that, especially when he seemed to be reading her mind already.

“No.” He tucked the fern back into the vase, slightly off center from where it belonged. “I couldn’t pretend to know how you think about most things, but from your tone of voice or your expression, I can sometimes make small predictions about how you’ll act or what you’ll say.”

“Even having just met me? I think you are wrong, Adam Burns. Women are not so predictable. You cannot forecast their thoughts like the weather.”

“I’ve offended you.”

“Of course not,” she denied automatically, wondering how someone who seemed so brash could be that intuitive. Because despite her denial, his words had touched a small nerve. She’d been well played by another man in the past. “It is just that no woman wants to think a man can anticipate her reactions. A woman wants to be darkness and mystery to a man’s sunlight and heat. The sexes should be like yin and yang, no?”

“But if a man can’t begin to understand a woman, how would he ever make her happy?” He appeared genuinely perplexed and she regretted that her past had insinuated itself into her thoughts.

But then, how could she separate herself from all her life experiences? She couldn’t help that her past colored the lens through which she saw the world. No one could.

She sighed.

“I do not pretend to know the right answers,” she admitted. “I only know the ones I do not like. I have precious little experience with what makes a man and a woman happy together.”

“Then let’s toast to something we share in common.” He raised his glass and placed hers in her hand. “Here’s to mutual ignorance when it comes to romance.”

Clinking her drink to his, she echoed his toast and drank deeply. He charmed her in spite of her best intentions not to be swayed by a man in the same business as hers.

“It occurs to me we might wish to draw some boundaries around our business relationship before we continue lifting our glasses in a more personal sense.” She wouldn’t make the same mistakes twice. “Perhaps we should discuss just enough business tonight to be sure we will not be stepping on each other’s toes this week.”

“I’m game.” Adam’s gaze followed another couple who were leaving the Helios deck, arms wrapped around each other. “Did you want to stand by the rail for a better view?”

Nodding, she stretched to her feet and brought her glass over to the side of the deck. They were all alone in the observation area, at least for the moment.

“It is a beautiful ship.” Danielle turned back to see the proud smokestack behind them bearing a circle of silver with gold stars.

The spa and fitness center were up here along with a driving range and tennis courts. The hot tubs at midship were a popular destination tonight, and she could see a couple kissing in the closest sunken tub. The sight made her wonder how long it had been since she’d been kissed that way. The memory was a bittersweet one since the man she would have shared her last kiss with had hurt her.