Tall, Dark, and Cajun

  Am I going nuts, or what? Getting turned on by toes, for chrissake! No matter. There was one thing that became clear to Remy in an instant. Rachel Fortier looked good enough to eat. And he meant that in the worst—rather, best—way possible.

  “ You’re gaping,” Luc cautioned him in a whispered aside.

  Remy pulled himself together, and noticed that everyone was staring at him staring at Rachel. He pressed his lips to- gether, just to make sure his tongue wasn’t hanging out. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph! What is happening to me?

  I know, I know, that pesky voice in his head said.

  “ What are you doing here?” he and Rachel asked each other at the same time.

  “ I’m going to redecorate Looks to Kill,” Rachel said.

  “ Why?”

  “ Why not? Do you think I’m not good enough?”

  “ Hell, no—I mean, heck, no. I just thought you were going to be here for a short time, and you’d want to spend that time with your grandmother. Besides, I thought you only redecorated high-class places.” I sound like a moron.

  “ Hey, hey, hey!” Charmaine interrupted. “Are you calling my spa low-class? Where do you get off, you full-of-yourself Cajun jackass? You don’t know shit from shinola when it comes to beauty spas or decorating.”

  Remy cringed at Charmaine’s foul language and her right-on assessment of his knowledge of those areas. He felt like slinking out the door, if he could do so unobtrusively. But he was saved by Tante Lulu. Or not saved, depending on one’s perspective. “Guess what? I’m giving you a birthday present,” Tante Lulu announced.

  “ You already gave me a birthday present. Don’t you remember?” Mon Dieu! Who put a motor on my tongue? I know exactly what she’s going to say next.

  “ A hope chest. ’Course I remember.”

  “ You have a hope chest?” Rachel’s lips fought a smile.

  “ Yeah,” he said defensively. “Haven’t you ever heard of a hope chest before?”

  “ Not for a man.”

  “ Well, we started a new trend in our family. Luc was the first, now me.” He couldn’t believe he was defending his aunt’s inane practice of giving her nephews hope chests.

  “ I never got a hope chest,” Charmaine complained.

  “ That’s because you’ve been married four times,” Luc remarked with a grin.

  Charmaine jabbed Luc with an elbow, hard.

  “ Ouch,” Luc yelled. “I didn’t say you were hope-less, Charmaine. You’ve got more hope than most women I know.”

  “ Keep it up, Luc. You won’t need that vasectomy everyone’s talkin’ about.”

  “ I like the idea,” Rachel said, putting a fingertip to her lips in speculation. “A hope chest for men, I mean.” She would probably be adding it to her decorating repertoire. Martha Stewart would be featuring it in her magazine. Good Morning America would do a special segment on unisex Cajun customs. In essence, he would become the laughingstock of the world.

  But that was neither here nor there. That fingertip to her lips only reminded him of “The Kiss.” He would embarrass himself in front of all these people if he wasn’t careful. Hell, he’d probably already embarrassed himself.

  “ Dontcha want to know what my second birthday gift to you is?” Tante Lulu looked pointedly at Rachel and did everything but say, “Ta-da!”

  Huh? “You’re giving me Rachel for a birthday gift?” And I thought a hope chest was an amazing gift!

  “ Not herself, you dimwit. She’s just going to do you.”

  “ Do me?” Remy gurgled with shock. Yep! Amazing about said it all.

  “ No, I’m not,” Rachel said, her face a bright red. Every- one else was laughing hysterically. “I already told you I don’t have time.”

  “ It won’t take that much time to do Remy, believe me,” Tante Lulu said.

  This was absolutely the most insane conversation Remy had ever been engaged in. Even for Tante Lulu, it was over the top.

  “ She wants me to Feng Shui your place, and I’m not going to do it.”

  “ Thass what I said. Fer a birthday present, I want her to fungus-way you up real good.”

  Oh. Now he understood. Sort of. But, man, oh, man, the last thing he needed was this hot redhead within a bayou mile of him and the incessant, royal, pain-in-the-ass hard-on that had her name on it. Knowing that, he astonished himself at his utter derangement when he asked Rachel, “Why won’t you do me? I mean, why won’t you work for me?”

  Just then, a group of teenage girls passed by them in the large vestibule. They’d been chattering and giggling as young girls do, before they spotted him. As one, they went quiet. One of them gawked at his disfigured face. Another one pretended to retch by sticking a finger in her mouth. The third muttered something about, “Freaks.”

  He was used to this type of reaction to his mangled skin, especially from those who didn’t know enough to hide their responses. His family was accustomed to it, too. But not Rachel. Too late, he saw her tight fists and her bloodless face bespeaking outrage. On my behalf. Oh, geez, that’s what I need—a pit bull female rushing to my defense.

  She shot out the door and stormed after the teenagers, intent on doing what, he had no idea. Either beating them up or giving them a tongue lashing. The latter, he expected. Grabbing her by the nape, he pulled her up short.

  “ Let me go,” she snarled. “Those kids deserve a reprimand.”

  “ Why? They’re only being honest.”

  “ They are not!” She slapped his hand away, but luckily just stood in place, glowering at the retreating girls.

  “ Look at me, Rachel. Look at me real close here in the bright sunlight. I am a freak.”

  “ What a crock!” she exclaimed. “You’re beautiful, and you know it.”

  “ I beg your pardon.” She deluded herself if she really believed that, but he couldn’t help but smile.

  “ I think you’re the best-looking man I’ve ever met,” she whispered. Tears misted her dark eyes. Tears, for God’s sake! “Even with your burned skin.” She reached up and lightly touched the damaged side of his face.

  That was it. He was sinking fast with no life buoy in sight. Remy did the only thing he could think of. He asked, “So, are you going to do me?”

  You want me to do WHAT?

  “ A houseboat?” Rachel exclaimed two days later. Her voice echoed two decibels above a shriek. “You want me to Feng Shui a houseboat?”

  “ It wasn’t my idea. It was my aunt’s.” Remy shifted from foot to foot, nervously. He ought to be nervous. The louse! Having her come over here for nothing. Not to mention having to defy her grandmother who practically foamed at the mouth at the prospect of her doing anything with a male LeDeux.

  Not that she was overly concerned about his nervousness. Nope, what concerned her more was his appearance. Remy wore only cut-off jeans, a plain white T-shirt and a Saints baseball cap. No shoes. No shave. He looked so good, he made her breathless.

  He wore the baseball cap because the wind blew strongly outside. A storm was predicted for this afternoon. He’d been feeding cheese doodles to a pet alligator, of all things, when she arrived. A man who loved animals—was there anything more touching? Even if it was a carnivorous reptile as old as Noah and not a cute little doggie.

  “ Well, this is impossible,” she declared.

  “ Because it’s a houseboat?”

  “ Not exactly.”

  “ I would think this would be a challenge—an even bigger challenge than Charmaine’s spa.”

  “ Are you daring me?”

  A slow, sexy grin crept over his lips. It was exactly that grin of his that turned her insides to butter, all hot and liquidy. Was he aware of the effect it had on her? Did he do it deliberately?

  He wiped the grin off his face. “Nah. I never thought this was a good idea to begin with, but I got caught up in the emotion of you pit bulling in my defense against a couple of teenagers.”

  “ Why? Why didn’t you think it was a good idea??
?? Am I demented? Time to get out of Dodge while the getting is good.

  “ Are you serious? Honey, I want you so bad my teeth hurt. Being in a room with you for more than ten minutes . . . well, I can’t predict what I might do.”

  Rachel sank down onto a bench at the galley table and stared at him in disbelief. “Do you say that kind of thing to lots of women?”

  He shook his head from side to side. “No. Actually never.” In a low murmur, not intended for her ears, he added, “And that’s what scares the stuffing out of me.”

  Every hair on Rachel’s body stood at attention. If her nipples got any harder, she would need a really thick bra to hide her instant arousal. Forget that. Much more of this and she would need flame-proof panties.

  “ You certainly know how to make a girl feel good.”

  “ You feel it, too? This crazy attraction?”

  She nodded, reluctantly.

  “ Maybe we should just shuck our clothes and make love a dozen or so times ’til we get this out of our systems.”

  Marathon sex? A dozen or so times? Yikes! He probably wasn’t serious, but she took the suggestion seriously and shook her head vigorously. “No way! I just ended one disastrous relationship, and I’m not about to start another. Besides, my grandmother would have a fit if I were involved with you, even for a brief fling. I can’t do that to her, not after just meeting her after all these years. No way!”

  To her chagrin, he didn’t even argue. But he did joke, “And here I was, all set to lick the polish off your toes.”

  He was kidding, of course.

  She hoped.

  No, she didn’t. She liked the idea of him sucking on her toes. And, yep, once again she was assailed by torpedo nipples and liquid fire. Sluts ’R Us should be my new slogan.

  “I’ll just tell Tante Lulu that we changed our minds, and you were unable to do the job here.”

  “ Hey, how come you’re blaming it on me? Why not say that you decided you like your houseboat the way it is?”

  “ She’d never believe me.”

  “ And there’s another complication. Your aunt already gave me a thousand-dollar retainer.”

  “ Mon Dieu! That’s it, then. We’ll have to do it. She’ll never take the money back once she’s paid it out. My aunt is tighter than Scrooge with her money. If she gave up that much, it means she is really determined to have this done.”

  “ It sounds as if you’re scared of your aunt. A teeny little thing like her?”

  “ Damn straight I am. There’s no stopping my aunt when she’s determined about something. Just ask Luc. He’s married with three kids, even though he was cruising along, happy as a bachelor. She may be small, but she’s a bulldozer.”

  Rachel’s shoulders slumped. She wasn’t entirely disappointed, to tell the truth. There was something to be said for tempting the fire—and she meant that literally. “You would have to agree to stay away while I’m working here, to avoid any contact, whenever possible.”

  “ I can do that. I’m starting a new job that will require me to be gone long hours. Sometimes, I’ll be gone overnight.”

  “ Maybe we can make it work,” she said. “Let’s talk about what you want to do, what kind of budget you’re thinking about. I assume you don’t want your aunt to pay for the redecorating.”

  “ Is it going to be that expensive?”

  “ It can be.”

  “Give me some suggestions, and I’ll tell you what I like and don’t like.”

  “ Do you like mirrors?”

  “ On the ceiling?”

  “ No, not on the ceiling, you lech.” She laughed, despite herself. “On the walls, though you don’t really have much wall space.” Rich cypress paneling covered most of the walls and floors, even the ceiling. It was lovely, but overpowering. “The problem is, it’s so dark in here, even with the windows. What would you think of a skylight?”

  He brightened. “My aunt suggested the same thing.”

  The idea that she and his wacko aunt had something in common was mind-boggling.

  “ Normally, skylights are not a good idea, according to Feng Shui, because they allow too much positive energy to leak out, but in your case, the strong water influence could balance that out. But never a skylight in the bedroom.” She talked aloud, not really waiting for replies, as she pulled a notebook out of her purse and began to walk about the houseboat, making drawings and taking notes as quickly as the ideas came to her.

  Remy’s houseboat was fairly large. The great room combined a salon, galley kitchen, and desk/office alcove. There was also a small bathroom and a separate bedroom. More important, top-quality materials had been used to build the craft several dozen years ago. The wood paneling was made of cypress to withstand dampness, with triple-pane windows all around, fine brass trim and lamps. The houseboat had probably been quite an expensive item for its time, a luxury craft, for sure. Feng Shui-ing a houseboat would be a challenge she would enjoy, Rachel had to admit.

  “This boat doesn’t move, does it? I mean, you aren’t planning to drive it around to different places, are you?”

  He laughed. “Nah, it’s anchored permanently. If you knew what a job we had getting this thing moved from Houma to here, you’d understand why I’m laughing. I bought it from a friend of my brother René, in a fit of madness, I suppose. Or else, I was drunk. Either way, I’ve grown attached to the old boat.”

  “ How much money do you want to spend? Do you see this as a lifelong residence, or something temporary?”

  “ I have no idea what I’m going to be doing tomorrow, let alone lifelong. But since I’m living here now, I’m ready to give up some cash. You come up with the ideas and the amounts, and I’ll decide from there.”

  “ First things first. You’ve got to get rid of the clutter.”

  “ Clutter? What clutter?”

  Really, men were clueless sometimes. “Like that paperwork overflowing the desk and window sills and the kitchen table. Like the fishing gear all over the outside deck. Like the clothing scattered here and there. Like the saddle in the middle of the room. Like that motor beside your bed, which I assume is a boat motor. Like the collection of wine bottles on the window sills. The hope chest beside the refrigerator.”

  “ That’s not clutter. It’s organized chaos.”

  “ Clutter,” she repeated emphatically. “You have a lot of negative chi in this place, and I suspect most of that bad energy is coming from the clutter. You know what they say about clutter, don’t you?”

  “ Can’t say I’ve conversed about clutter before.”

  She flashed him a glare for his sarcasm, then went on,

  “Clutter is nothing more than a postponed decision. And you have lots of postponed decisions laying about.”

  “ Spare me, Lord. I am with a beautiful woman, and we are talking about clutter.” He rolled his eyes hopelessly.

  She ignored his remark, put her notebook down and began to walk once again through the rooms, arms extended, like a blind person. Sometimes she closed her eyes to get the full effect.

  “ Oh, shit! I mean, oh, darn! You’re not into that woo-woo stuff, are you? I don’t think I want you bringing any voodoo nonsense into my place.”

  Her eyes shot open. “No, I’m not into woo-woo. But I’m surprised at you. A big ol’ boy like you afraid of voodoo.”

  “ Darlin’, anyone with a lick of sense is afraid of voodoo. Best you learn that if you’re gonna be in the South for long.”

  Since she didn’t intend to be here that long, she didn’t give his warning much weight. “Okay, I think we should get some estimates on a skylight. That’s what will make the biggest difference. Then, we need to have a woodworker come in and deep-clean all this cypress. It has a wonderful patina on it. Still, it will look much better when it’s clean. The kitchen could use a little remodeling. I like the vintage appliances, but if we replace the table with a built-in booth in the corner, it would give you lots more room. Finally, I think some red fabric on the be
nch seats and about the windows would do wonders, in addition to a moisture-resistant Oriental carpet. Originally, I told Charmaine that red would be good for her spa, but I think you need it much more. Next to black, red is one of the most powerful colors.”

  “ Red? Red?” he sputtered. “Are you going to turn this into an Austin Powers bachelor pad?”

  “No. I’m going to give you a comfortable, classy home. Now, about the bathroom. It’s pitiful.” There was only a shower stall, sink and toilet in the ten-by-ten space.

  “ You know, if we’re going to be spending some big bucks here, I’d like one of those super-duper, high-tech shower stalls. You know, the ones where you have water jets hitting you from every angle. And cool lighting.”

  “ In other words, sexy,” she remarked dryly.

  “ Yeah.” He waggled his eyebrows at her.

  “ Do you have enough water pressure for something like that?”

  “ I should have. There’s a humongous gas-operated generator and a cistern up the hill. You can’t see them because they’re screened by tall magnolia bushes.”

  She nodded, then moved on to the bedroom. “Are you satisfied with this bed?”

  “ Have I been satisfied in this bed?” He deliberately misheard her, a lazy grin quirking his lips.

  And, no, no, no, I am not going to think about those lips. And, yes, it does bother me that he has a bed here in which he might have slept with some other women. Not that I’ll ever sleep here. Not that I’m even thinking what it would be like. Not that my brain isn’t in major hormone meltdown.

  “ What I meant was .. . this is a queen-sized bed. You’re a big man. Wouldn’t you prefer a king-sized?”

  “ Would it fit?”

  “ Well, it would be a tight squeeze, but it could be done if we removed the two dressers and replaced them with more built-ins. And if we removed the clutter.”

  He winced, as if he got her point. “Whatever you think.”

  “ Another thing to consider. The placement of the bed can be important. You always want to have a clear view of the doorway, but aside from that, if the headboard points north, it promotes sound sleeping. If it points west, it promotes lethargy or laziness. If it points south, it promotes irritability.”