Ménage Material [La Belle sans la Bete Ménages] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (17 page)

Grimacing and wishing she’d ignored the call, she muttered, “Mom? Is everything okay? It must be pretty late over there.”

“Not really, sweetheart. It’s only eight or so.”

For her parents, namely her mother, that was very late. Her mom kept the hours of a five-year-old. Miranda Nelson tended to be in bed by eight on the nights she wasn’t entertaining her husband’s business associates. Devvy didn’t think she actually slept, but for as long as she could remember, her mother had always left to go to bed at seven thirty, almost every night.

Devvy shared her love of books with her mother and she had the notion that Miranda escaped to her bedroom so she could read. In peace.

Had she been a regular child, one that made a lot of noise, one that lived with their toys or played noisy games, Devvy would have understood her mother’s craving for silence. But considering she’d been a quiet child, always living inside her head, she’d always just felt out of it where her mom was concerned. Borderline unwanted. A nuisance.

That feeling had never gone away. Distance would always separate her from her parents. And not just in the physical sense. She could be in California, living next door, and a chasm as wide as the Atlantic would still separate her from her mother and father. She’d never been close to her family, just as she’d never been close to anyone at school. She’d always felt like the cuckoo in the nest.

In truth, Devvy had grown quite used to feeling as though she belonged nowhere. Even with Sebastien, she’d believed him to be too good for her and she’d always believed he’d come to his senses eventually. For the majority of her married life, she’d been waiting for the other shoe to drop. A belief her mother shared and perpetuated.

As it was, that shoe had dropped and created an avalanche of admissions. Said avalanche was the source of what Devvy believed would be the only place she’d ever belong.

Between Alex and Sebastien.

Her gut, even after only a short time “together,” told her there lie her future and it was why she was calmly accepting of this unusual relationship. Deep down, she knew this was her place. They were her men.

It was ironic that she came to that decision while on the phone with her mother.

A more bigoted creature, in all her travels, she’d yet to meet.

“Is there something I can help you with, Mother?” Devvy asked, when Miranda seemed quite content for silence to shadow the line.

“Not really, dear,” came the quick reply. “Can a mother not just want to talk to her daughter? Her only little girl?”

As soon as she said that, Devvy knew Miranda wanted something from her. And usually, whatever Miranda wanted, she got. That was her father’s fault. Because of it, Devvy had paid the price far too many a time.

“Well, it’s lovely to hear from you. Thank you for thinking of me,” she murmured, playing the game as was expected of her.

“It’s been so long since I heard your voice. I just wanted to make sure everything was fine over there. On the other side of the pond.”

Ha, it had been ten days since Devvy had endured yet another lecture. Hardly long enough in her opinion.

“Well, you got it right. Everything’s great.”

“And Sebastien? How’s he?”

Devvy knew right away that she wouldn’t be telling her mother Sebastien was in Napa. If she did, Bastien would be extended an invitation to visit her parents’ home, and if he didn’t accept it, which he wouldn’t—he’d never said anything, but she could sense he didn’t like her family. She could hardly blame him when it was a sentiment she shared—she’d never hear the end of it.

“He’s fine. Working hard as usual,” was all she said.

“Well, I hope you’re looking after him.”

“As much as he’ll let me,” she retorted, amused at the idea of Bastien needing someone to take care of him. He was one of the most self-reliant men on the planet. One of the reasons why she’d always felt unneeded by him, surplus to requirements, as it were.

“Good, good.” There was a long pause. “I was wondering…if you’d heard of an Alexei Ivanov.” Miranda butchered the name, making Alexei sound more like laxative and Ivanov like enough.

Devvy frowned at the ceiling, her limbs tensing at the weird note in her mother’s voice as she mentioned Alex’s name. “Yes, of course, Mother. He’s a specialist in the treatment of cancer. He’s world renowned. I’d say most people have heard of him.” Aside from her Regency-romance-loving mother. Not that there was anything wrong with a good romance. But it was time to change genres when you started forgetting this was the twenty-first century, not the nineteenth.

“Do you know him personally?”

How to answer that? With the truth? Ha! Way to cause her mother’s mental breakdown!

“I know of him, and I’ve met him. The man might live in Paris but that doesn’t mean to say I know him well. Paris is larger than you think.”

“Of course, I don’t expect you to know every scientist, Devvy! I just wondered. That’s all.”

“Well, we’re not close friends.” That wasn’t exactly a lie. They weren’t close friends. Yet. As Alex had said yesterday, it took time for these friendships to develop. Especially as at the moment, they were lovers, rather than anything else. “Why do you ask?”

“Oh, no real reason. Irene Van Der Bossche just happened to mention him and Sebastien in the same breath. That’s all.”

“Maybe Bastien’s company has funded some of Ivanov’s research?” Disliking the direction of this conversation, Devvy steered it on the right track. “Sebastien has his fingers in many pies. It wouldn’t surprise me if he’d donated to the cause. Anyway, since when were you and Irene Van Der Bossche friends? You always called her the most frightful gossip.”

Devvy was pleased when her mother rose to the bait. “Of course I’m not friends with Irene! But she came round to dinner last week and I just didn’t like what she was inferring.”

“And what was that? I’m sure she was just being nosy.”

“It was almost like she was saying there was something going on between the two of them.”

“Undoubtedly,” Devvy stated, making her voice as bland as possible. “Business.”

How was it that people in California were discussing her husband and Alex as though there were some deep connection between the pair of them?

Maybe it was because Devina Nelson, boring and bland as the soap she made, had managed to snag a man like Bastien. There had to be something wrong with him in the first place if he’d marry a little wren like Devvy. In that same vein, there must be something else marring his so-called perfection.

To the elite society of Portola Valley, circles in which her parents traveled, Bastien’s being declared gay would be all that Devvy deserved for daring to marry outside her tedious little world.

A part of her was certain that was the root of Irene Van Der Bossche’s malicious comments to her mother. The other part just wished such gossip didn’t hang on Alex’s shoulders.

In this case, where there was smoke, there was most definitely a fire.

“Well, that’s what I told her!” Miranda declared. “I don’t know what her filthy little mind was suggesting but I’ll set her straight the next time I see her.”

“Good! If it makes you feel better, I’ll ask Bastien if he knows Ivanov well. That way you can put an end to whatever bull she’s trying to spread.”

“That would be marvelous, sweetheart. Before I go, I wanted to ask if you started that diet I told you about.”

“Not again, Mom!” she snapped, glaring at the armoire as though it were her mortal nemesis. “My weight is fine. I’m perfectly healthy!”

“Healthy doesn’t mean attractive,” came the confidence-bashing retort.

“Maybe not, but in my case, I don’t need to lose weight. Seb likes me just the way I am.”

Miranda huffed down the line. “Every man says that to his wife. He’d be an idiot not to! Don’t believe him. They’re all liars when it comes to the way they like their women to look.”

It was too early in the morning to be dealing with her mother’s bullshit. On top of that, for once in her life, she refused to let Miranda demolish her newfound pleasure in herself, her body and her sexuality. Rather than let her ride roughshod over her, she gritted her teeth. “Well, I’m sorry Dad’s like that, but I’m lucky, Mom. Sebastien
isn’t
. Now, if you’ve finished insulting my husband, as well as myself and the way I look, I think that’s all we need to say to each other for a little while! Good night!”

And with that, for the first time in her life, she disconnected the call and hung up on her mother.

For a second, horror trickled through her veins. It was an unspoken family rule that everyone pandered to Miranda. Devvy had no idea why, but everyone from her own father to her great-aunt Netty always treated her gently. With care. Like she was made of the most fragile of crystal.

Before the horror could stick, resolve replaced it. Her mother had no right to talk to her that way, no right to belittle her appearance or the way her husband viewed her. Every phone call with Miranda usually ended with her traipsing to the bathroom and stepping on the dreaded scales. Well, not today! She refused to let the insidious words toy with her mind, as her mother’s so-called sagacity usually did.

Enough was enough.

Whatever the repercussions of her harsh words to her mother, be it a pissed-off call from her father, or to go through a phase of Miranda sulking with her, it was worth it. She’d had enough of her mother’s bullshit. Twenty-six years of being pulled down was quite enough, thank you! Especially when she was starting to feel like she was finally settling in her own skin.

Mouth firming with purpose, she forced herself to get out of bed and to kick-start her day. She refused to think about the repercussions of her rudeness, and instead focused on the reason behind her mother’s call. The gossip about Alexei and Bastien.

Refusing to worry, she resolved to wait until Bastien returned home. He might have some idea as to why this particular piece of gossip had made it over the pond and to her parents’ circle. Until then, she’d just have to wait and there was no point in going around in circles asking herself questions she didn’t have the answer to, was there?

Devvy stretched her back, glorying in the delicious tug of muscles as she tried to loosen the tension in her shoulders. She’d been working hard on the anti-acne soap ever since Wednesday morning, when she’d returned home from Alex’s. They’d spoken on the phone since then, but she could hear the pout in his voice.

He was most definitely sulking.

The distance worked in her favor, though.

For one, she knew he missed her. The truth of it was that she missed him. It was weird how she’d grown so used to him being there, when she’d only stayed at his penthouse a few nights.

Another reason a bit of space between them was working
for
her, was the fact that it gave her time to think. She’d brushed off Alex’s anxiety attack when he’d promised her he’d share the reason for it when he was ready. Losing herself in her work was a natural way for her to problem-solve, and her thoughts had naturally drifted to the reason behind Alex’s behavior that first night they’d spent together.

With her mind going around in circles, she couldn’t deny she was getting very impatient. Devvy didn’t want to wait. She wanted to know what was wrong
now
. Not some nameless day in the future, as he’d promised.

It was only in the calm environment of her lab, with the lulling peace from her herb garden, that she realized how different she was to the Devvy who had worked at this same project a month before.

Under the care of her two men, she was starting to change. Nothing drastic. Just little things. A few weeks ago, she’d never have had the balls to tend to Alex the way she had the night of that weird anxiety attack. She’d have hovered. Uncertain as to how to act. Not wanting to disturb him for fear of him battering her with his anger.

As it was, she’d taken charge in a subtle way. Gradually getting closer to him and then cosseting him with her care. She’d enjoyed it, too. Not his anxiety, but being able to care for him. To show him how she felt. Somehow, it had been easier to show than it was to tell. Telling meant understanding and even now, days later, she was no closer to making an admission of her real feelings for Alex.

She didn’t know why she was shocked she cared so much, so quickly. Hadn’t she fallen for Bastien with a speed that had astonished her?

Six months after their first meeting and they’d been dashing into a
mairie
, a town hall, and making vows to one another. The cautious Devvy of old had disappeared in the face of Sebastien’s unheard-of eagerness to wed. She’d been caught up in the magic of it and even though she’d had her doubts, she’d never, not once, regretted agreeing to be his wife.

Up until now, she’d gone through her life with blinders on. Not seeing much, hiding from the rest. Then her husband had appeared and that had all changed. With his bringing Alex into their relationship, he’d simply tilted their world on its axis.

Devvy smiled at the thought that the world toppling over hadn’t been cataclysmic. If anything, it had been
orgasmic
.