Jeanne Louise actually had a date tonight with her mortal that she would obviously be missing. But other than being annoyed and leaving nasty messages on her answering machine, he probably wouldn’t do much. She kept her dates apart from the rest of her life, so it wasn’t like he’d call her best friend, Mirabeau, or her brothers or father to find out why she hadn’t shown up. As for anyone else discovering it . . .
She smiled wryly, knowing that it could be Sunday night, when she didn’t show up for work, before her absence was noted. It wasn’t that she led a solitary existence. Her father often called or visited on the weekends as did her brothers. At least her oldest brother, Nicholas, and his wife, Jo, often visited. Thomas visited much less though, since he was in England with his Inez. Although when he’d called last week, Thomas had said that Bastien was working on transferring Inez to the Toronto office so that they would be closer to family. Then there was her friend Mirabeau, her cousin Lissianna, her aunt Marguerite, and Rachel, her cousin Etienne’s wife. She’d become a good friend since their marriage. Any one of the women might call.
However, they probably wouldn’t worry about her not answering for a couple days, which might be a good thing. It would give her time to try to sort out if Paul was a life mate and what to do about it.
Three
“And that’s Mommy and me at the family picnic. I was three.”
Jeanne Louise smiled faintly at the picture Livy was showing her. The child had been an adorable little cherub at three. Her mother too had been a beauty. Tall, blond, with sky blue eyes, a beautiful smile, and the perfect body. It was enough to depress the hell out of Jeanne Louise. She was not tall, did not consider herself beautiful, and did not have the perfect body. At least not compared to her cousin Lissianna, who she did consider beautiful. Jeanne Louise’s lips were a little thinner, her eyes large but almond shaped, and her face tended toward round rather than oval. She was also shorter and with less in the boob department. She didn’t think she could compete with the perfection of Paul’s first wife, especially when that perfection was a ghost whose beauty would therefore never wither in his memory.
“That’s enough of the pictures for now, Livy,” Paul said gently. “Set it aside and eat your sandwich, please.”
“But I don’t want it,” Livy said unhappily. “It doesn’t taste good.”
“But it’s tuna, your favorite,” Paul said with a frown.
“I know, but it tastes funny,” Livy said unhappily and then added a plaintive, “Everything tastes funny now.”
Seeing the deepening concern on Paul’s face, Jeanne Louise said lightly, “Maybe your taste is changing. Everyone’s taste changes. Here, try this.” She took half her own sandwich and set it before the girl. “It’s ham and cheese. That’s my favorite and your dad put on just the right amount of mayonnaise. Not too much, not too little. It’s perfect.”
When the child hesitated, Jeanne Louise slipped into her thoughts to encourage her and then stayed there, ensuring she took a bite, chewed, and actually enjoyed the bite. The child was all bone; she needed to eat to build up her strength. The turn was a rigorous attack on the body. Livy needed to be stronger to survive it . . . if she was turned.
“Good?” Jeanne Louise asked when Livy swallowed, smiled, and took another bite.
Livy nodded, too busy chewing to answer.
“Thank God,” Paul murmured, the words a heartfelt sigh from his lips.
Jeanne Louise merely smiled at him, her concentration on ensuring Livy continued to enjoy and eat her sandwich. When the child finished the first half, Jeanne Louise wordlessly passed her the second half and continued to make her eat.
“Here.”
Jeanne Louise glanced to Paul to see him holding out a second sandwich from the picnic basket he’d brought out earlier. It hadn’t taken him long to put the picnic together. Then he’d returned to the room and cautiously unchained her and led her outside to a little gazebo in the center of the backyard. He’d used two chains to shackle one ankle to a post of the gazebo. Paul had then covered her with a light blanket to hide the metal tethers. After a hesitation, he’d then assured her he’d be right back and headed for the house.
Jeanne Louise hadn’t needed to read his mind to know he’d been worried that she might escape while he was gone. But she hadn’t even tried. She’d remained where she was, ignoring the way he kept glancing over his shoulder, and then peering out the kitchen window as he’d gathered the picnic basket and Livy before rushing back out.
The relief on his face when he got back to find her sitting sedately where he’d left her had nearly made her grin, but she’d controlled herself and turned her attention to Livy as the girl had begun showing her pictures of her dear departed mother.
“Thank you,” Jeanne Louise said quietly as she accepted his offering. She quickly unwrapped the sandwich and took an absent bite as she concentrated on Livy. But the burst of flavor in her mouth made her blink and her efforts on Livy stutter slightly.
“Is something wrong?” Paul asked, pausing in unwrapping his own sandwich.
“No,” she said quickly, returning her attention to Livy. “It’s good.”
She caught his smile out of the corner of her eye and knew he wanted to point out that she’d told Livy the sandwich was perfect without even trying it first, but he held his tongue. Probably afraid the girl would stop eating, Jeanne Louise thought wryly as she encouraged Livy to finish the last of her sandwich.
“I brought chips too,” Paul announced, setting his own sandwich aside to retrieve two bags of chips from the picnic basket—barbecue and sour cream and onion. “I’ve seen you eat both kinds, but wasn’t sure which was your favorite.”
“Both are,” Jeanne Louise admitted with a faint smile. “Sometimes I prefer barbecue and sometimes the other. It just depends on my mood.”
“And which would you prefer today?” he asked, arching one eyebrow.
“Barbecue,” she decided.
“And what mood does that mean you’re in?” Paul asked with interest.
“In the mood for spicy?” Jeanne Louise suggested absently, her main concentration on Livy still.