The Playboy in Pursuit Page 15

  ‘Yes,’ she agreed, smiling at his shocked delight.

  ‘And you like the ring I picked out? I thought it matched your lovely green eyes.’

  ‘It’s magnificent. I hope it fits.’

  ‘I hope so too. I studied your finger for ages and it seemed about the same size as Angie’s. So I took her along for sizing.’ He plucked the ring out of its velvet nest and slipped it on, sighing with pleasure when it fitted perfectly. He grinned into Lucille’s equally delighted face. ‘By the way, Angie said to tell you that if you didn’t say yes, you’d have her to answer to.’

  Lucille rolled her eyes. ‘That sister of yours is terrifying, Val. Poor Raoul.’

  ‘Poor Raoul is getting plenty of what he likes best. And his performance tonight will reflect that. But I doubt it’s a case of true love. Angie’s just like Mamá. She gets carried away with the heat of the moment, but then grows bored. She’s not interested in ever getting married, or having children. All she wants is her career.’

  ‘And you, Val?’ Lucille asked, now that he’d given her the opening. ‘Are you interested in having children?’

  He groaned. ‘I was worried you might ask me that. Now I’m terrified what answer to give you. Let me just say I want whatever you want. I know you were traumatised by losing your baby. I will understand if you never want to risk anything like that again.’

  ‘Val,’ Lucille said firmly. ‘Do you want children?’

  ‘Yes. Oh, God, yes. I would adore having babies with you.’

  ‘Babies! I’m nearly thirty-one, you know.’

  ‘Which is why we should get married soon, don’t you think? There’s no time to waste.’

  ‘Val Seymour, you are the most wonderful man in the whole wide world and I love you to pieces. But I’m not going to rush into anything. I want at least six months of sex and sin before settling down to married life and having a baby. But after that it’s all systems go for a couple of new Seymour Productions.’

  ‘I think we should drink to that.’ He raced over to the bar and brought back the glasses of bubbly. ‘To my lovely fiancée,’ he toasted, clinking her glass with his, ‘and the future mother of at least two little Seymours.’

  ‘And to my handsome fiancé,’ Lucille countered. ‘The man who restored my faith in love, and in men. He’s going to make a fantastic father, almost as good as he is a lover.’

  His eyes melted all over her. ‘I hope you’ll still think that in thirty years’ time…’

  ‘Do you think we’ll still be doing it in thirty years?’ she mocked.

  Val drew himself up straight and tall. ‘Speak for yourself. I have very virile genes.’

  Lucille thought of Max, still going strong at sixty, and with no sign of flagging. ‘Too true. Just make sure you keep your virility for none other than yours truly.’

  ‘I will. I promise.’

  ‘If you don’t,’ she warned, ‘you might find yourself minus part of your anatomy.’

  ‘You’ll have to get in quick, then. Because if you said yes to marrying me, Angie also threatened to castrate me if I was ever unfaithful to you.’

  Lucille laughed. ‘Now, that I would believe.’

  The phone began to ring.

  ‘That’ll be the car,’ Val said. ‘Time to go…’

  It was less than a minute’s drive to the theatre from Val’s apartment block, but they could hardly have arrived on foot in their finery. Hence the hire car.

  The press photographers were certainly there when the white limousine pulled up at the grand steps leading up to the Casino and the theatre. Another limousine was pulling away just ahead of them, having deposited a couple, both of whom Lucille recognised. Max, suavely handsome in a white dinner jacket, escorting Erica, looking smug and sleek in beaded black.

  Lucille’s boss didn’t bat an eyelid on seeing Lucille alight with Val, making Lucille conclude Max had already told her of his son’s new lady-friend.

  Erica sidled over close to Lucille as soon as they’d reached the top of the steps and the photographers had left them to race back down to the street below. A famous American movie producer and his model mistress had just arrived, thank heavens.

  ‘I see you got over your aversion to playboys, Lucille,’ Erica murmured drily as they made their way into the foyer of the theatre.

  ‘Not at all,’ Lucille replied with cool aplomb. ‘My fiancé has taken himself out of the playboy scene,’ she added, waving her ring under her boss’s nose.

  ‘My God!’ Erica exclaimed. ‘Max didn’t tell me about that. Max! Stop talking shop to Val and take a gander at this rock your son has given my best employee. Oh, darn, does that mean you’ll be resigning soon to go flitting around the world with him?’

  ‘Could be,’ Lucille said noncomittally. She hadn’t discussed the details of their future with Val yet, but she wouldn’t mind. She’d always wanted to travel.

  Max came over, beaming. ‘Val was just telling me about that. Congratulations, Lucille. You’ve got yourself one great guy, even if I say so myself. Not that he hasn’t snared himself one very lovely lady. Yes, very lovely indeed.’

  ‘Eyes off, Dad,’ Val ordered as he slid an arm easily around Lucille’s tiny waist. ‘She’s all mine. Got a sec, darling? I need to talk to you alone for a minute.’

  Lucille frowned as Val drew her aside. She tried not to panic, but her happiness was so new and so amazing that she still feared something might spoil it.

  ‘What is it? What’s wrong?’

  ‘There’s a man standing over there at the bar who’s staring at you like he’s seen a ghost. Do you know him?’

  Lucille glanced over her shoulder to find Michele’s gorgeous husband standing there with a cocktail frozen in his hand, his beautiful blue eyes glued to her.

  Lucille smiled a relieved smile. For a second there she’d been worried it might be Roger. She never wanted to see that pig ever again. ‘Oh, that’s just Tyler,’ she said off-handedly. ‘Michele’s husband.’

  ‘Thank God for that,’ Val muttered. ‘He’s too bloody good-looking to be competition. For a second there I thought I was going to have to fight a duel.’

  ‘Don’t be silly, darling,’ Lucille chided. ‘Men don’t fight duels any more. Come over and I’ll introduce you.’

  She did just that, before asking Tyler where Michele was.

  ‘Gone to the ladies’ room. She’s worried her dress might be too tight since she put on a bit of weight. Speaking of dresses, is that the one Michele picked out?’

  ‘Yes. Do you like it?’

  ‘Do I have red blood running through my veins?’ he joked. ‘Yes. I like it. You look fantastic, Lucille. You’re a lucky man, Val. This girl is not only beautiful. She’s darn choosy.’

  ‘So I’ve gathered. Which makes me doubly proud that she’s chosen me to marry.’ Val’s arm was around her again, drawing her close by his side.

  Lucille knew he was staking out his territory with her, but she didn’t mind. A certain amount of jealousy and possessiveness in a man was understandable, especially when they were in the company of another highly attractive and high-powered man.

  ‘You’re engaged?’ Tyler sounded startled.

  ‘Since a half-hour ago tonight,’ Val announced.

  ‘My God, Michele’s going to flip. When’s the wedding?’

  ‘As soon as Lucille gives me the go-ahead.’

  ‘Pin her down to a definite date, man,’ Tyler advised. ‘Girls these days are the very devil when it comes to commitment.’

  ‘I know what you mean,’ Val agreed ruefully.

  ‘What?’ Lucille exclaimed. ‘Are you serious, you two?’ She started shaking her head. ‘Michele is not going to believe this.’

  ‘Believe what?’ the girl herself said as she materialised by Lucille’s side. She was wearing the candy-pink number that looked as if it was sown on.

  ‘Tyler and Val think we women have a problem with commitment these days. This is Michele, by the way, Val. My best fri
end. And, Michele, this is Val. My fiancé,’ she added coyly, holding up her left hand and wriggling her fingers Michele’s nose.

  Michele screamed, and every head in the place jerked round to stare at them. Michele just shrugged. ‘They’re getting married,’ she told all the curious onlookers. ‘I was just pleased, that’s all.’

  Everyone smiled, then went back to their own business.

  ‘So when’s the wedding?’ she asked Lucille.

  Lucille looked at Val, who looked expectantly back at Lucille.

  ‘Easter,’ Lucille decided with a resigned sigh. ‘How about Easter?’

  ‘Easter’s fine,’ Val said.

  ‘No, it’s not,’ Michele wailed. ‘I’ll be as big as a bus by then. I’ll be the fattest, ugliest matron of honour who ever walked the face of the earth.’

  ‘Nonsense,’ Tyler contradicted. ‘You could never be anything but beautiful.’

  ‘We’ll find you the perfect dress,’ Lucille promised. ‘Something floaty and feminine.’

  ‘Could it be low-cut at the front?’ Michele asked, the sparkle back in her eyes. ‘I just realised my boobs are going to be enormous by then too. I might as well flaunt them while I have them.’

  ‘You can have whatever you like.’

  Michele grinned. ‘Okay, then, you have my approval to get married at Easter.’

  Lucille smiled at her friend. Then smiled at Val. He smiled back and her heart overflowed with happiness. What a wonderful night, she thought. All that was needed to complete her happiness was for the show to be a big hit.

  ‘Time to go in, everyone,’ Max called over. ‘The warning bell’s gone.’

  Lucille felt the instant stiffening in Val’s body where she was holding his arm. He was obviously worried about the show. And why wouldn’t he be? He’d worked so hard. And he cared so much. Too much, perhaps. There again, he wouldn’t be the man he was if he wasn’t passionate about what he did.

  She squeezed his arm, and he smiled down at her. ‘I’ll be fine,’ he said soothingly. ‘Soon. It’s only a show, after all. What really matters is you and me.’

  ‘It would be nice to have a hit, all the same.’

  ‘Yes,’ he admitted with a nod of his handsome head. ‘Yes, it would.’

  The show was a big hit. But not as big a hit as Val was on Christmas Day. Her father was most impressed, now that they were safely engaged, with the wedding on the horizon. Her sisters thought Val was a dreamboat. Her nieces and nephews just adored him, because he’d bought them fantastic gifts. Even her two stodgy brothers-in-law seemed to get along with him. Still, Val could be a charmer when he put his mind to it.

  Lucille’s mother took her time coming round, however, saying nothing much for ages. But late in the afternoon, well after Christmas dinner was over, she drew her youngest daughter aside into a private corner of the house.

  ‘I just wanted to say,’ she said, ‘that I think your Val is quite wonderful, and I think he’s going to make you very happy. I’ve been watching him with you, listening to the way he speaks to you, seeing the way he touches you, the way he simply adores you. Yes, he is a prince, Lucille, whereas that Roger was just a frog pretending to be a prince. I can see the difference now, and I want to say how sorry I am that I didn’t see it before. But it’s not too late, is it, for a mother to apologise? I only ever wanted you to be happy, you know, Lucille.’

  Lucille burst into tears and threw herself into her mother’s arms. ‘And I only ever wanted you to be proud of me,’ she cried.

  ‘But I’ve always been proud of you,’ her mother said, stroking her hair. ‘Always. How could I not have been? You’re such a beautiful girl. And so bright. Ah yes, you worried me a lot. You wanted so much out of life. And you never wanted to wait for anything. I was concerned you would always be doomed to disappointment. But you’ve come up trumps this time, love. Val’s going to make a wonderful father, so don’t waste any time having that family he keeps talking about. You’re not getting any younger, you know.’

  ‘But we’re not getting married till Easter,’ Lucille protested.

  ‘Since when did a little thing like that stop a rebel like you?’

  ‘Mum, I’m shocked.’

  ‘Really? Haven’t you ever realised that your oldest sister, Katie, was born five months after your dad and I were married?’

  ‘Golly, no! I didn’t know that.’

  ‘It wasn’t all your father’s doing, either.’

  ‘Heavens!’

  ‘You might find you’re more like your old mum than you realise,’ Mrs Jordan said, grey eyes twinkling. ‘Why do you think I tried to be so strict with you when you were a teenager? Because I knew you were a chip off the old block. Now, go and take your man home to bed. And throw away those condom things. Men don’t like them much, anyway.’

  For the first time in her life Lucille did what her mother told her. When she married Val the following Easter, the whole female side of the official wedding party was pregnant. Michele was almost seven months—a girl, according to the ultrasound. Lucille was just over three. Jane was a month gone. And Angie an astonishing six weeks.

  It seemed Raoul hadn’t been prepared for his partner’s spontaneous passion one night straight after the show, the fire ignited by his tango ending in an unexpected conception.

  Surprisingly, Angie didn’t mind. Raoul would make a lovely baby, she decided. But a simply dreadful husband. And he agreed with her. So no marriage was in sight. Her plan was to hire help and go back to dancing after the baby was born.

  Val had thrown up his hands in despair at this, saying she was just like their mother. But he loved his sister all the same.

  Val was a man with a lot of love to give, Lucille was to find, especially for his firstborn—a son, Christian, the apple of his eye. Till his daughter, Isabel, came along, that was. But neither child ever took away from the love he held for his wife. She was everything to him, that special woman he’d waited thirty-three years to meet and fall in love with.

  And he never let her forget it.

  ISBN: 978-1-4592-0446-1

  THE PLAYBOY IN PURSUIT

  First North American Publication 2000.

  Copyright © 2000 by Miranda Lee.

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