Ménage Material [La Belle sans la Bete Ménages] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (5 page)

“This has gone better than I expected. I wish I’d realized you had a crush on Alex, we needn’t have wasted two years.”

The wryness in Sebastien’s voice had her frowning. “What do you mean?”

“Do you remember that cosmetics convention you attended, where you met Sebastien for the first time?” Alexei prompted and at her dazed nod, continued, “I’d seen an article about you. Your science, your methods. Your genius. There was a picture of you, looking serious and stern but those eyes of yours…” With his free hand, he traced the sharp jut of her cheekbone. The gentle touch had gooseflesh swimming the length of her spine. “And beneath the lab coat, you were every man’s wet dream. It said you’d be at the convention, and I told Bastien to go there and to meet you.”

“But why? If you…” She hesitated.

“If
I
was attracted to you?” he spoke the words for her and she nodded gratefully.

“If you were, then why didn’t you come and meet me yourself?”

“Alexei makes a point to never attend a convention of that sort. He’s been nominated for a Nobel Prize, and he probably won’t be there either.”

It was strange, because she could sense neither approval nor disapproval about this on Sebastien’s part. He was carefully blank, and whatever her husband was, he was an instinctive creature. He’d made a fortune on his financial insights. That told her whatever he truly felt was carefully buried.

“I dislike crowds.”

Sebastien snorted. “He’s agoraphobic.”

Alex’s eyes flashed at the other man, and Devvy was startled to see anger and panic in his gaze. He quickly looked at her, and she could tell he was nervous about her reaction to Bastien’s words.

“Is he telling the truth? Do you fear outside places?”

Alexei swallowed, and almost defiantly spat out, “Yes.”

“Only the promise of telling you the truth made him leave his home tonight, Devvy. If I want to see him, I have to go to his apartment.”

Devvy frowned and used her free hand, for the other was still being clutched by Alex, to scrub at her forehead. “I’m confused. You saw my picture in a magazine and because you won’t leave your apartment, you had your friend date me instead?” Her words had her taking a step away from her idol and demanding her hand back.

“He’s more than just my friend.”

Her eyes darted toward her husband. “I thought you said you weren’t gay.”

“It’s complicated, Devvy.” Bastien rubbed a hand over his nape, and from the flash of pain that had him frowning, she knew his migraine was still there or coming back.

“So explain,” she retorted, voice cool, ignoring his discomfort. He wasn’t the only one with a tension headache waiting in the wings. “I want an answer.”

“You won’t like it,” he muttered.

“Tough. I don’t like
this
! You’re frightening me.” Maybe fright wasn’t the correct way to describe how he was making her feel with his comments, but it summed up her nervousness.

A burst of French cascaded over the room as Alex and Bastien started to yell at one another. Devvy had a basic understanding of the language. She might be one of the top cosmetic scientists in the world, but the Romance language just escaped her at every turn. Something she bitterly resented as Alexei and Sebastien engaged in a war of words right in front of her, and she couldn’t understand a fucking word.

“Enough!” she barked, digging deep and finding a previously unknown source of courage at her very heart. She was not known for her confrontational side. If anything, she was likely to flee from an argument, not dive right into battle. “Explain. I’ve already waited longer than I said I would, Sebastien. I think I deserve an explanation.”

The two broke off, looking guiltily at each other, before Alex cleared his throat and said, “We enjoy the opposite sex.”

“We enjoy the opposite sex,” she mimicked, glowering at the pair of them. “I should damn well hope so considering you’ve just spent the last two years married to me, Sebastien.” A thought popped into her head and she choked out, “Is that why you haven’t touched me for over a month? You’ve stopped
enjoying
the opposite sex?”

Sebastien snapped, “I haven’t touched you because
La Belle sans la Bête
was under threat of a hostile takeover! As much as I love losing myself in your body,
ma petite
, sometimes the spirit might be willing but the body is weak.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about the takeover?”

He rolled his eyes. “Women. You can’t win either way!”

“If it stresses you out, then it stresses me out. Is that so hard to understand?” she directed the question at Alexei, who held up his hands in surrender.

“Don’t get me involved. I’ve already had this argument with him. Many a time. He knows how I feel on the subject.”

The pair of them directed their gaze at Sebastien. “Don’t keep scowling like that. The wind will change and then you’ll be stuck that way forever!” she told him, watching him try to fight a smile at the nonsensical advice. Something her grandmother had told her long ago.

“And do you care for my pretty face,
mignonne
?” he asked, the smile breaking free and tugging at his lips.

“Maybe,” she retorted, unwilling to stroke his ego. “Look, I’m still waiting for an explanation. I think I’ve been more than patient.”

“And your patience shall be rewarded, Devvy,” Bastien muttered, sinking back into the sofa with a sigh. “We might as well relax while I tell the tale.” He waited until Devvy and Alexei had taken a seat, his wife moving to the place beside him, leaving the armchair free for Alexei. It was a small act of possessiveness that both men recognized instantly.

“Firstly, you must realize, Devvy, that neither of us meant you any harm. If anything, it’s the contrary.”

She frowned. “What do you mean?”

“We both wanted to love you.”

Stunned, Devvy sat forward, half-stood up, and then sat back down again. “Both of you?”

Alex nodded. “Yes. I have known Sebastien for nearly twenty years. Before he was the rich industrialist we see now.”

“You’ve been friends? Or more than that?”

“More,” Alex murmured, voice gentle.

“Oh.”

“Don’t look so broken-hearted,
mignonne
,” Sebastien whispered, seeing his wife’s beautiful features crumple with her pain made the tension at his temples beat to a tune of its own. “I am not a stranger now I have made this revelation. This is simply another facet to my nature.”

“A rather large facet,” she snapped. “You’ve had a male lover for twenty years and you didn’t think your wife might appreciate knowing that?”

“I’m telling you now.”

“It’s a funny time to start being honest. What changed?”

“You asked if I was cheating on you.”

“And I was bang on the money, wasn’t I?” she spat, her anger making itself known in her hissed retort, before it whooshed out of her and she collapsed back into the sofa.

“Technically, he has been cheating on me with you,” Alexei pointed out and shook his head as her eyes shot a warning his way. “I do not say this to hurt you, Devvy. It is simply the truth.”

“One that
does
hurt!” she cried, unsure whether the tears pricking her eyes were from anger or sorrow.

Sebastien grabbed her shoulder and gently began to knead. It was a sharp contrast to the way she’d cosseted him only ninety or so minutes ago. She wanted to move away, shove his hand off, but Devvy didn’t want to hurt him. Unlike the way he’d hurt her.

“I’m sorry,
chérie
.” Bastien sighed. “But there is more to this than pigeonholing me as gay. What Alex and I have together is not strictly monogamous. Before you, we took other women to bed, but not men.”

“So you’re bi?”

“I hate labels, Devvy. We are what we are.”

“God, this belongs on some bad soap opera. What do you want me to do? Condone the fact you have a male lover and just put up and shut up?”

“No,” he murmured softly. “I wish you to take my male lover, as you label Alex, for your own.”

This time, Devvy didn’t hover. She leapt off her seat and strode over to the fireplace to gawk at them both from a distance.

Sebastien’s jaw took on the characteristics of concrete. “We are not contagious.”

“I take it back,” she muttered, shaking her head and ignoring his pained anger. “This isn’t a soap opera. It’s a goddamn porn movie! Why the hell should I want to take a lover? Until now, I’ve been happy and damned busy keeping up with you!” She raised her hands and hugged herself. Self-comforting was the only way to go when she had two men wanting something from her that she had no idea how to give.

“I would like to see you with him.” His anger had bled out, making his voice a soft rasp that sent shivers down her spine even though she told herself to man up and add some starch to her bones.

“Why?” she whined. “That can’t be normal,” she added, mumbling more to the room than the two men in front of her.

“What is normal, Devvy?” Alex slotted in.

“Well, what the pair of you want sure as hell isn’t.”

“I would like to see you with him,” Bastien continued, almost as though the pair of them hadn’t interrupted. “I would like to share you with him. I would like us both to love you and to pleasure you. And for you to love and pleasure us.”

For some reason, only one thing popped in her head and she gasped out, “At the same time?”

Alex made a muffled sound and from his ducked head, she could tell he was fighting not to laugh.

“This isn’t funny!”

“No, it isn’t but you are such an innocent.” Alex sighed and it was strangely redolent with pleasure. How she could sense that, she wasn’t sure. She just knew she’d pleased him somehow. His next words confirmed it. “When I saw you in that article, I
knew
you’d be like this. Innocent, naïve, so intelligent you’d keep the pair of us on our toes. Creative, passionate, sexy.” Another happy sigh. “I was not wrong in my judgment.”

“You damn well were if you think I’m going to sleep with both of you at the same time!”

“There will be very little
sleeping
,” he murmured silkily.

She stomped her foot. It made her feel like a toddler, but goddammit, he wasn’t listening to her. “Look, I’m not interested in your perverted little games.”

“Perverted?” Alex cocked a brow. “I think not. We do not wish to harm you, or do something that is morally abhorrent.”

“Where I come from, wanting to share a woman
is
‘morally abhorrent,’” she hissed.

“Then America is not as enlightened as I thought.” He sounded almost disappointed. “We French are far more open to such things.”

“A ménage à trois might be a French term but I doubt there are many households of three in this country,” she retorted, borderline snootily. Her nose popped up in the air as she made her cutting remark.

“Ah, so you do know of the phrase.”

“Of course I do. I’m not totally out of touch.”

“I fear you are.”

Alex rose from his position and stepped toward her. She backed into the fireplace as he neared, ultimately leaving a sparse two inch gap between them. He was so close she could smell his aftershave. Could see a small graze on the firm, lean line of his jaw where he’d nicked himself shaving.

She could see the expensive cut of his clothing, a cut that was tailored to his body, and showed that while he might be on the cusp of agoraphobia, and while he might subsist in his lab, the man was built. His shirt rested against the flat plain of his stomach, and underneath, there were corrugated ridges.

In Cali, she’d seen many six packs, but had never thought any of her lovers would possess them. She’d imagined fellow lanky geeks would be the sort of men she’d take to her bed, and her first lover had been the epitome of a nerd. Like a beanpole, thick-rimmed glasses, bony, and with no clue of what to do between the sheets. She’d almost resigned herself to an unsatisfying sex life for the rest of her days as she herself was no babe. Then, she’d met Sebastien. Who not only had a six-pack, but biceps nearly three times the thickness of her own.

Sebastien dealt with stress in the gym.

And she thanked God every day for that fact.

Why she was thinking about lovers and Alexei in the same breath, she didn’t know. It didn’t matter that he had a six-pack. She wasn’t some vacuous slut who could be swayed down a path she didn’t want to take, because the man doing the asking had muscles on top of muscles.

At least, she didn’t think she could.

This was Alexei Ivanov, for God’s sake.

One of her idols. A scientist beyond repute. A man who had shocked the world with his discoveries, and who had only lived for less than four decades! The man was brilliant. So brilliant, his aura—not that she believed in auras—glowed with his genius.

When it got down to it, this entire conversation was taking place because he wanted her. A man with a reputation that would someday rival Einstein’s, and he wanted plain-Jane Devvy Jacques.