When Strangers Marry Read Free Page A

boys must belong to a family of great wealth. Like other plantation homes in the exclusive bayou district, the house faced the Bayou St. John, a finger of water that extended from Lake Pontchartrain to the MississippiRiver. The lazy afternoon sun glared on the main house’s white and pale gray exterior. All three stories of the home were surrounded with wide shaded verandas framed by sturdy white columns. Abundant groves of cypress, oak, and magnolia trees had been planted around the chapel, smokehouse, and what appeared to be slave quarters.
    Lysette’s stomach churned unpleasantly as the boys propelled her up a flight of steps leading to the main door of the house. They passed through a dark, cool entrance hall lined with narrow mahogany benches.
    “Father?” Philippe called, and a startled darkskinned woman gestured to a room just beyond one of the twin parlors bordering the hallway. Smugly the boys paraded their charge into the library, where their father sat at a massive mahogany desk. The room was splendidly furnished, the chairs upholstered with rich yellow silk that matched the yellow and lapis lazuli print on the walls. Heavy swags of scarlet wool moreen framed the windows.
    Lysette’s attention moved from the room to the figure at the desk. He faced away from them as he worked. He wore no waistcoat, and his white shirt clung damply to the outlines of his powerful muscular back.
    “What is it?” came a deep voice that sent an unsettling thrill of awareness down her spine.
    “Father,” Philippe said, “we caught someone by the water trying to steal our pirogue.”
    The man at the desk shuffled papers into a neatpile. “Oh? I hope you taught him the consequences of tampering with Vallerand property.”
    “Actually…” Philippe began, and coughed nervously. “Actually, Father…”
    “It’s a girl ,” Justin blurted out.
    Evidently that was enough to attract Vallerand’s attention. He turned in his chair and stared at Lysette with cool curiosity.
    If the devil ever decided to assume a human guise, Lysette was certain that he would look exactly like this…dark, handsome, with a bold nose, a hard sullen mouth, and wicked dark eyes. He was a rampantly masculine creature, possessing the swarthy tan and the obvious physicality of someone who spent much of his time outdoors. Although Lysette was taller than average, Vallerand’s dominating presence made her feel almost tiny. Rising to his feet, he leaned back against the desk and surveyed her lazily, seeming less than enthralled by the sight of a mud-encrusted girl in his library.
    “Who are you?” he asked.
    Lysette met his assessing gaze without blinking, while she considered various ways to deal with him. He did not seem to be the kind of man who would be moved by tearful pleading. Nor would he be impressed with threats or defiance. There was a possibility that he was acquainted with the Sagesse family, perhaps even was close friends with them. Her only hope was to convince him that she was not worth the trouble of bothering with.
    Justin spoke eagerly before Lysette could reply to his question. “She won’t tell us, Father!”
    Vallerand pushed away from the desk and approached Lysette. She was not aware of backing away until she bumped into Philippe’s solid form behind her. When Vallerand reached her, he slid his long fingers beneath her chin, tilting her face upward. Carefully he turned her face from right to left, dispassionately surveying the damage wrought from her journey along the bayou. She swallowed hard against the callused pads of his fingers. His deep chest was level with her face, the shadow of black hair visible beneath the thin lawn of his shirt.
    Now that he was standing so close, she saw that his eyes were a very dark brown. She had always thought of brown as a warm color, but those eyes provided definite evidence to the contrary.
    “Why take the pirogue?”
    “I am sorry for that,” she said hoarsely. “I’ve never stolen