The Flower of Love

By Heather Daniels

Christie Rhodes, gorgeous but lacking self-confidence, just wants to be friends with suave Frenchman, Philippe Moreau, despite the sexual magnetism between them. Philippe, however, hopes to break down Christie's defenses over time by being her unwavering "go to" support.

When Philippe finally gives up on any romantic relationship and moves on, Christie realizes how much she misses him and does want Philippe as more than a friend. Relationships are tested when Philippe must return to France for his gravely ill father.

Will time, distance, and family ruin a possible future between them?

Or will Philippe's first love reclaim him for her own?

Love, sex, and commitment were never more complicated.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Heather Daniels
• Release date: Aug 24, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463966549

Heather Daniels

Heather Daniels is a product of the midwest. She is a former teacher who always dreamed of publishing a book. Today she spends her time writing and raising a young child. She is fueled by coffee (and wine) and her vivid imagination.

Book preview

"Dance with me, chéri." Long, lean fingers reached out to the auburn-haired beauty who was seated with her escort at a table. Slowly she raised her eyes, eyes he knew were as blue as the Mediterranean Sea that he had frolicked in as a child. The darkened lashes fluttered in annoyance against cheeks that were becoming rosy with anger.

Please.

Perfect pink lips that were ready to form the word no acceded to the demand or request, whatever it was. Of course, those amazing eyes flashed in anger, it would be rude to say no, wouldn’t it? Her date put down his whiskey and soda to stare at the intruder. It was socially proper for the man to request a dance, but her escort knew of the past history of the two and resented the man’s presence.

He smiled thinly still holding his hand out to now grasp hers as she rose from her seat. She quickly dropped his hands, walked to the dance floor, and avoided eye contact as he embraced her for the dance. The small band had shifted from contemporary, fast dances, to the slower romantic, Wonderful Tonight.

"You look as beautiful as ever, ma petite," Philippe murmured by her ear as he inhaled the light tropical fragrance she wore. He had missed this. Holding her. Reveling in the way his senses came alive when he was with her. He missed her laughter, her sighs of impatience, yes, even the anger she still felt towards him. He missed her love. He missed Christie.

Christie was stiff in his arms, barely moving her feet in the dance, no matter how slow-paced it was. She didn't know which shocked her more – that her brother actually invited Philippe or that Philippe had the audacity to attend. Of course he would use this wedding as an excuse to see her since she had ignored all his phone calls and texts over the last ten months.

Damn! As much as she wanted to remain indifferent, her body was reacting to him like a Geiger counter to uranium. Every fiber sizzled with energy and wanted more of him. She wanted those sensuous lips to melt her, to kiss every part of her body. She needed his strong hands to touch her where no one else could or should. Christie Rhodes still desired Philippe Moreau despite their past. God help her she still loved him.

Philippe was her past, though. Get through this. Have some self-confidence and class, then walk away. Glenn is waiting at the table.

I have missed you.

Christie stared mutely over his shoulder watching her brother Ian dance with his bride Alyssa. At least they were finally happy.

Why have you not answered all my attempts to talk to you?

There’s nothing to talk about. Nothing!

As his hand pressed her to him more closely he replied, That is not true, my love. You stormed out refusing to listen to my explanation.

"I am not your love," she shot back with a furious look.

Flashing a rueful smile, Philippe pinned her gaze to his. "Christie, you are and always will be my only love."

Trying to pull away she snapped, That’s it - we’re done.

Glenn, her date, had been jealously watching the interaction between Christie and Philippe. As Christie tried to pull away, Glenn rose from his seat intending to extricate his date from the interloper.

Grasping her tightly, turning into a spin, Philippe answered, Those are almost the same words you said to me the day you left.

Then you should have listened.

"Non, you should have listened."

As the music was drawing to a close Philippe pleaded, Please, Christie, if you ever held any love for me, give me a few moments of your time – that is all. We need to settle this. If you choose to walk away afterwards, so be it, but I need to tell you what really happened.

She dropped his hand and started to walk away. A few steps later she turned to him. You’re right. We need to finish this. You want me to listen, well, Mr. Moreau, I need to tell you exactly how I feel. Walking away, she stated, I'll contact you when I have time for you.

He watched her walk to the waiting arms of her date and wondered who had replaced him in her bed – or, was he once again assuming the wrong idea as he had done before when he first met her.

Chapter 1

Three Years Earlier

Philippe nervously scanned the patrons dining at the soft opening of his restaurant, Maison Moreau. The cream of society and business had been invited to sample the incredible talents of his executive chef and closest friend, Jean Paul LeFevere. Philippe himself had spent weeks training the staff and overseeing every detail in this restaurant even down to the floral arrangements on tonight’s tables. Jean Paul had the kitchen running with military precision. Tonight would truly make or break his first restaurant venture. The generous seed money given by his father and the additional investor money were on the line. It had to be a success or he could return home to France in defeat and, in his mind, disgrace.

Generally, soft openings could have and were expected to have numerous mistakes or even disasters by the wait staff or the kitchen. Philippe and Jean Paul had drilled everyone repeatedly in the preceding days even having the staff members’ families as guests for meals in order to ensure as smooth an opening as possible.

Thus, Philippe was circulating the floor stopping at tables to introduce himself, inquire as to the satisfaction or needs of his guests, and, generally schmooze, as Americans termed it. As he circulated back to the entry area the double sets of entry doors opened for an auburn-haired whirlwind. The maître d’ immediately stepped out from behind his desk to stop her in her five-inch Jimmy Choo shoes.

"I’m sorry mademoiselle, but we are not open tonight to the general public. This is an invitation only event."

Philippe watched a dazzling white smile release a laugh, "Oh, I know, I am invited. I’m just deplorably late. She had an impish gleam and unbelievable turquoise eyes. As usual."

How could anyone not smile in response to such infectious good humor?

The maître d’ looked down his long Gallic nose and coldly responded, "I see. And just what party is mademoiselle joining?"

Nonplussed, she sweetly smiled, Advanced Systems, Ian Rhodes.

As Armand checked the seating chart Philippe stepped up. Armand, I will escort the lady to her party.

Christie looked appreciatively at a tall, 6 foot or more, lean man impeccably dressed in a tuxedo, with short dark wavy hair, and warm chocolate eyes that likewise assessed her attributes. He seemed as pleased with what he saw as she was with him.

Philippe noted that she was younger than him, how much it was hard to guess. Her flawless ivory skin was enhanced by a deep green strapless sheath that ended well above her knees. Shapely was an understatement as was beautiful when applied to this woman. Stunning, simply stunning in every sense.

May I? Philippe offered his arm and she delicately grasped it. "I am afraid you have missed the amuse bouche, the appetizer, the soup, and the salad. However, we can bring all or some of these courses as you choose but we are just happy to be graced with your presence."

"Oh, dear, I am late, really late! Ian will kill me." She bit her lip in consternation.

I am sure your husband will understand. How could he stay angry at someone so lovely? Philippe smiled with his suave compliment and patted her hand.

Ian Rhodes saw Christie approach and scowled, obviously aggravated about her habitual lack of punctuality. He stood, as did the other men with him, when she reached their table.

Mr. Rhodes, I have assured your lovely wife we are so happy she could join us.

"Thank you, but my sister, who really has a brilliant mind, has absolutely no sense of time. I apologize for her late arrival." He kissed her cheek as a happily surprised Philippe pulled out her chair next to Ian.

Ryan Quinn, Ian’s business partner, sitting on her other side also kissed her cheek, noting in his Texas drawl, Well, darlin’, it certainly was well worth the wait. You look fantastic, almost as tasty as this food.

This brought smiles all around the table helping to ease Christie’s embarrassment. As she was seated, Philippe leaned in to unobtrusively to ask, "Mademoiselle, what would you like me to bring you?"

Oh, just the salad, please, then the main course. I appreciate it, Mr—?

Moreau. Ian interjected. This is Mr. Moreau, the owner and our host tonight, Christie, NOT the waiter.

Chagrined, Christie blushed, Please forgive me, Mr. Moreau. I'm sorry to interrupt the meal. You have an absolutely beautiful venue and I wish you great success.

Philippe was touched by the young woman's sincerity. "I thank you Mademoiselle Rhodes for the compliment and the good wishes. I will return later but for now, please, everyone bon appétit!"

A waiter brought a salad to Christie almost immediately while her table partners praised the courses she had missed. The group consisted of Ian’s business partners Ryan Quinn, a tall Texan of Irish and Chippewa descent, Tony Mendoza, a perpetually smiling Latino-American, and Jake Bradley, the red-haired joker of the quartet. The men had met and bonded while rooming together and studying at MIT. Now they owned Advanced Systems, which designed highly classified defense and spyware programs for the U.S. Government. This was kept secret from the general public for obvious reasons. The only other people aware of the real nature of their business were Christie and Moira Bradley, Jake’s red-haired wife. Christie worked within the company offices managing and investing company profits to the delights of the partners. Like them, she was a genius who did not advertise her capabilities to outsiders.

Moira knew the general nature of Jake’s firm and the fact that they were government contractors but none of the specifics – for ethical and security reasons. Moira and Jake had two young children, two-year-old Sean, and two-month-old Meghan. Moira had such an irrepressible exuberance and positive outlook it was almost impossible not to love her.

"Christie, the fennel soup with artichoke hearts was so scrumptious and rich, I swear I already feel five pounds heavier. You know I’m not one to like liver but the pâté appetizer was so good I could have eaten a bigger portion as a main course, and we had a chardonnay actually made with grapes from the Moreau family vineyard, wasn’t it, Jake?" As a stay at home mom, Moira was often starved for adult conversation which she more than made up for when with friends.

Yeah, Christie, Jake continued, just before you came Mr. Moreau was telling us he comes from Beaune, France where his family owns a vineyard that raises chardonnay grapes.

Really! Did the Moreaus make the wine you're drinking?

No, Ryan explained, they, like many vineyards, raise grapes to sell to wineries who will often embellish their own yield of the same type of grape for increased production output. Conversely, some wineries may use only their own grapes for certain types of wine they create and produce. This chardonnay happens to be a very good quality. I’ve had it before and liked it very much. It complements my fish wonderfully. To all appearances, Ryan would never pass for a wine connoisseur or genius. His good old boy down home persona hid his talents like an eidetic memory. When his handsome face flashed his dimples in a smile, he easily attracted women.

As the waiter brought Christie her main course choice of chateaubriand, Tony asked, Is everything okay, Christie, that you were late? His almost black eyes reflected a brotherly concern. Although the men found Christie attractive and enjoyed her personality, the age difference of about nine years plus the ‘bro code’ caused the men to look on her as not only Ian’s little sister but like their own.

Christie glanced first to Ian and then at Tony. Thanks for asking, Tony. I’m fine but my neighbor had to take her son to the emergency room for a broken arm and needed me to stay with her toddler girl. She just had to wait longer than we anticipated. So, Ian, she turned back to her brother, it wasn’t all my fault!

Raising an eyebrow, Ian reluctantly apologized. "Okay, fine, it wasn’t your fault this time. I’m sorry if I was upset but I stand by my comment that you have no sense of time, ever."

Yes, I do, she chirped. It’s time for the dessert course because here come the waiters with it! After an incredible dessert of a miniature mango custard Napoleon sitting in a tiny pond of raspberry coulis and a passionfruit crème brûlée highlighted by triangles of pistachio brittle, the group sat relaxing having drinks and coffee when Philippe returned.

"Mr. Rhodes, I hope you and your friends have enjoyed all that Maison Moreau has to offer."

Ian stood to shake Philippe’s hand and clasped his shoulder. Mr. Moreau, you have given everyone an incredible dining experience in a beautiful setting. It's a very welcome addition to Chicago dining. We shall certainly be coming frequently for business and pleasure. Please, let me introduce my business partners. As Ian made introductions, each man shook hands and reiterated their enjoyment of the dining experience and good wishes for the restaurant’s success.

When Ian introduced Moira she added, "Jake is going to bring me here often, aren’t you, Jake, because the ambience and food create a very romantic evening!"

Jake laughed at his wife’s suggestion. "We have two little kids, one is only two months old. Sorry, Moira, maybe it’s too romantic here. He leaned to stage whisper in her ear, But I'll still bring my girl here." Then he pecked her cheek.

Philippe enjoyed the teasing domestic exchange, noting what a really nice group of people they were. He turned to Christie asking, "And you, mademoiselle, I hope you enjoyed everything."

Mr. Moreau, everything was absolutely perfect, as I'm sure is the case with all your endeavors. I’m sure you’ll succeed remarkably.

Philippe murmured polite thank yous and goodbyes while wondering if the sexy young woman was hinting at carnal pleasures.

The next three weeks of continuing intense attention to business resulted in an expanding clientele evidenced by the growing wait list for a reservation.

Late one Friday night, Philippe and Jean Paul toasted their collaborative success with a glass of champagne. Thanks to your amazing food my friend, I believe we have a success, Philippe offered.

"Non, mon ami, it is just as much your foresight and management. You know how to create the perfect setting and experience for my culinary talents. I think we are the perfect team, as he toasted Philippe again, So, do you have a romantic rendezvous for tonight?" A knowing, wicked smile appeared.

"Oui, I have met a few women who have indicated their interest in me. You need to come out of the kitchen more to greet people and meet the ladies."

"Believe me, I will, but I have met a woman or two myself outside of work! The ladies like our accents, non? I may not be as handsome or as tall as you, Philippe, but I still have the sexy appeal." He wiggled his dark eyebrows.

Laughing, Philippe started to leave, "Ah, Jean Paul, we Frenchmen are always the most sexy of men. The women here do not know what a treat they have to look forward to when they go out with us! Bon nuit."

Hurrying home to shower and change Philippe thought of the beauteous Mademoiselle Rhodes. What was her first name? Ah, yes, Christie. I wonder if I shall see her again soon. I would really like to go out with her and end the evening in her bed. Such a body would be exquisite in the nude. She would probably be great fun to spend time with in or out of bed.

A certain body part was enlarging with desire as his thoughts dwelled on Christie. He shifted, uncomfortable in his seat, as he drove his small car home. It’s been much too long since I have had a woman. I am behaving like a teenage boy. Tonight may change that, I hope.

Philippe was in luck that night as a few hours later Nancy Jacobs, his date, invited him to her apartment for a drink. Nancy was a dyed blonde, 36-ish divorcée with two children. She had been at the soft opening as a plus one with her date, ironically a divorce attorney. She had consumed Philippe with her eyes almost as ravenously as her meal that evening. Subsequently, she had come to Maison Moreau twice with girlfriends. The last time she cornered him at the host’s stand to invite him to a dance club. Tonight lively dancing left both of them a bit sweaty, a bit breathless, and really horny.

Nancy tried to look provocative as she ran her fingers up Philippe’s linen clad chest and spoke into his ear, It’s become too noisy and crowded in here. Would you like to come back to my place for a drink?

Philippe had been holding her close as they gyrated. Now he stepped back, and holding her arm, led her out of the club into the refreshing, cool night air.

Shall we take a taxi, Nancy eagerly inquired.

No, I have my car. Come, I shall drive.

Nancy was surprised at the small economy car – disappointed, actually. Oh, this is your car? I never thought you would have such a small, um, cute car.

For now I do not need the big American luxury car. I do not travel far and this suits my needs. He was not about to admit almost every penny he had was tied up in the restaurant. Annoyed, he wondered, did the woman want him or what she thought he was worth.

Nancy lived in a prestigious high-rise condo that was part of a lucrative divorce settlement along with a very comfortable alimony check each month to keep her in the lifestyle her doctor spouse had accustomed her to before cheating on her with a nurse. Luckily for her, the children spent Friday night to Sunday night with their father allowing her to have an unencumbered social life.

They had barely entered her apartment before the aggressive blonde started kissing him and unbuttoning his shirt. Philippe was not adverse to the eventual outcome, but still somewhat irritated with her previous comment and he wanted to slow things down. He did not like women who were on the attack sexually. There should be some finesse in lovemaking, after all.

Philippe grabbed her hands. "Nancy, let us slow down. We have all night, non? Let us have a drink and savor every moment of this time together, oui?"

She smiled, a bit embarrassed to so blatantly want to get laid by the killer Frenchman. Of course, would you like a cognac?

I would love a cognac if you sit beside me on this couch. So, Philippe set the pace for a very fulfilling sexual tryst. The only downside was as Nancy finished riding him to an exciting second climax, he finally saw the large framed portraits of her two children on the wall facing the bed. If he hadn’t already climaxed, their accusing stares would have shriveled him mid-act. Never one to stay the night anyway, the view from the bed of the many framed photos hastened his departure.

The next weekend, since Nancy was really a satisfying lover, apart from her decorating choices, Philippe invited her out again. First they went to a jazz club for a light supper and drinks. Then, he brought her back to his apartment, ostensibly for two or three hours of sex. Nancy had been very foresighted though – she had packed a set of clothes for the next day.

Good news, Philippe. We can spend all night together and tomorrow, too! She said as she pulled her clothes out of a very large handbag waving a red thong in his face. Now he knew why she carried the oversized Birkin. Nice place. Ooh, is that a designer couch?

Oh, I did not realize you would sleep over, said the man who didn’t like a woman who presumed so much, especially on the second date.

Well, baby, she breathed as she pulled off her stretchy top that had been pushed to its limits by her surgically perfected 38DDD breasts, I know how much fun we had last week. I thought we could expand on that this weekend. As she said this, she unzipped his pants gripping his penis, hurriedly trying to expand that, too.

The woman was truly uncouth in her approach to the art of love. For her it was all dirty, fast sex, whereas Philippe wanted to experience the sensual delights of making love. Granted, there were times when her approach was desirable but she didn’t elicit from him that type of hungry need. He just wasn’t that into her, he decided, but lacking a way out he was stuck with her. He had no alternative but to ‘go with the flow’ as the cliché went. C’est la vie.

Philippe's pants were quickly stripped off of him as these thoughts blasted through his mind. She pushed him onto his new pearl gray sofa as she shimmied out of her band-aid skirt, sans panties. Quickly, she seated herself on top of the traitorous erection that she had encouraged.

Oh, no, not my new couch. Not here! I can’t have sex here with her here – I’ll never be able to look at it again!

Nancy, sweet, let us go into the bedroom – it is so much more comfortable and the condoms are in there! He was actually trying to push her off his lap when she opened the front closure of her bra and the triple twins plopped into his face.

Philippe, I can’t wait! When did she grow six hands?

Oh, but you must, he said as he somehow managed to push her away and stand up. I am too tall to do it like this. It will be so much better on the bed. Come! He quickly led the way still wearing his silk shirt and socks. He was beginning to feel used.

Nancy had closely followed him like a bloodhound scenting its quarry. She bounced on the top of his black silk coverlet clad only in her beaming countenance as she joyously spread her legs apart. Now, Philippe, NOW!

He closed his mind to the sight of her on the delicate silk coverlet rationalizing, he could get it cleaned, he hoped. Betraying his need to control the situation, his cock throbbed at the sight of her.

About seven-thirty the next morning he awoke under the now stained coverlet with Nancy snuggled against him. He was sated from repeated enthusiastic (on Nancy’s part) sex, but he was not going to indulge with Nancy again. She was nice enough but she was too aggressive, too insensitive, too needy.

As Nancy showered, Philippe quickly called Jean Paul. "C'est quoi ce bordel! It’s Sunday!"

Jean Paul, it is I, Philippe. Listen, this woman has me in her tentacles like a giant squid. Call me in two hours. I will say it is a restaurant emergency. I have to get rid of her!

Consequently, two hours later, as Nancy and Philippe were seated eating brunch at a Michigan Avenue restaurant, his phone buzzed.

"Excuse me, I must answer this. 'Oui, oui, I will come shortly'. Putting down his phone he spoke to Nancy, That was my executive chef. There is a problem that I must address at the restaurant. I hope you will forgive