BOOK INFORMATION
The
Frenchman
Crime
Royalty Romance # 1
By: Lesley Young
Released December 2, 2014
L.A.Y. Books
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BOOK SUMMARY
Fleur
Smithers rarely veers off the straight and (excruciatingly) narrow. So moving
to the seaport town of Toulon to live with her newfound biological mother—an
inspector with the French National Police—for one year is a pretty major
detour.
Son of
France’s crime royalty family and international rugby star, Louis Messette, is
devoted to his sport, famille and nothing else. But the carefree American he
meets one night changes everything. She sparks a desire in him like no other.
Possession takes root. She will do as he commands.
Bit by bit
Fleur slips into the Frenchman’s realm of wanton pleasure agreeing to his one
condition: that she keep their affair secret. She serves up her heart without
reservation in the hub of the glittering Côte d’Azur, and the along the soulful
Seine in Paris, unaware of the danger she is in. For her new lover’s family
business will pit her against her mother, the police woman sworn to bring down
the Messettes. And by then, far more than Fleur’s heart will be on the line.
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EXCERPT
As we neared the yacht, I could see only
lights from a few windows of the cabin area. Near the bow, men were lingering,
smoking. I was shaky as I walked across the sloped plank, and it wasn’t from
the cold wind coming off the sea.
Louis’s entourage joined me on the deck.
I was struck by how much larger the entire boat seemed once you were on it. My
escorts pointed in the direction of the lit cabin with encouraging nods. Just
outside the doorway, looking down into the deep inset cabin, I spotted Louis
sitting at an elaborate bar, sipping a highball.
He was poised, on the edge of a stool, in
black dress pants, one long, thick leg stretched out, the other bent underneath
the stool. The sleeves of his blue dress shirt were rolled up, which, I noted,
might be a habit of his. He spun the whiskey around in his hand, watching the
golden elixir reflect light. I wondered if he was trying to read his fortune in
that glass, he stared so intently at it. I recalled the night we met, at the
bistro, how he gave off animosity. But now I knew better: it was power.
He glanced up and watched me step down
into the cabin. His silent magnitude left me breathless. He took in my dress
quickly, eyes steady, and when he broke into a smile, my heart skipped a beat.
“You came,” he said in English, standing
up, looking ginormous in the tiny room.
“Bien
sûr,” I answered. Why would
he think I wouldn’t?
He was already near. It was odd: his face
was sketched with relief. He reached for my hand and pulled me to him, brushing
his mouth close to mine with a mere greeting. He paused, hovering near,
suddenly shifting his lower half up so close I could feel the heat coming off
of him. He clamped his lips down on mine with two-ton force. I was crushed
under all his intensity as he nudged my mouth open and tasted me. My heart was
beating a mile a minute. I kissed him back, tasting the whiskey on his tongue,
smelling his cologne and natural musk. We lingered a moment, before he pulled
back and, clasping both my cheeks, planted two more soft kisses on my lips.
***
My chest hurt from a strange new kind of
anxiety, high-pitched, full of woe. Dread closed in on me. I’d never felt so
exposed standing before one human being before. And realization that he could desecrate me with a mere cold shoulder sank in.
And maybe that was his point. But why?
“Is that what you want? Do you want me to
go?” I whispered, trying to keep my voice steady.
I
swear a universe of emotion flickered in his eyes, but it presented itself so
quickly, and was hidden from view, I wondered if it existed at all.
I waited.
He shrugged. As if I was asking him what
color tie he wanted to wear.
I gasped. The floor opened up beneath me,
and, as I fell, I knew it then. He was the keeper—the keeper of our connection.
And he’d decided to punish me, without explanation, to prove a point that he
refused to explain.
I recalled thinking once that he was a
rotten man. What had happened to that idea? It was suddenly clear and present
again.
I rushed into my dress, zipping it up on
the way to the door. I stumbled because tragedy lay before me.
Was I going to leave?
My heart was up in my throat, and tears
ran down my cheeks.
Why was he so mean?
I didn’t understand!
I was steps from his door. Yes. I was
running home. To my mother. Like the child he clearly thought I was. The lump
in my throat ached, as with one last gasp of disbelief, I pulled on the handle,
desperate for him to stop me and desperate to get away, but . . . the
door wouldn’t budge.
I tugged again.
Oh.
His hand was above me, holding it closed.
The tattoo glared down at me. He’d moved—fast. To stop me.
He didn’t want me to leave after all.
I didn’t know whether to be relieved or
terrified or angry.
I felt, only, numb.
When he stepped into me, my body moved of
its own volition as close to the door as possible.
Seems he’d gotten what he was so
desperate to have. I was scared of him.
He buried his face in my hair, and my
chest burned. Tears of hurt streamed down my face. What had just happened? My
heart was pumping so fast it was going to burst and spray black everywhere, and
I didn’t even know why!
“Fleur,” he whispered.
No. I shook my head, but his body had
drawn close and followed mine as I tried to shift away against the door.
“Fleur,” he whispered.
I paused. We stood there, barely
touching, me trapped in a standstill of . . . hope. So much hope.
Pure hope. It was a field of azure bluebonnets on a Texas highway promising to
bud every spring without tending or mercy. I didn’t know what he wanted from me,
not by the way he had said my name, or in general, anymore, and I didn’t care,
not as long as he wanted me.
Slowly, gently, he pulled me into him,
and I let him.
I let him.
And . . . time began again.
CAT'S REVIEW
"The Frenchman" by Lesley Young. What can I say? I loved it!! This tells the story of Fleur and Louis. But there is also the story of Fleur and her new-found birth mom, Marie. Fleur is just adorable! She is so sweet and innocent when she arrives in France. Although she might not leave France as innocent, she never loses her sweetness. She often had me chuckling with her inner thoughts. Watching her grow and mature while in France was a pleasure to watch. She certainly goes through some crazy situations that help her not only grow, but discover some truths about love and life. Louis - what can I say about him? I was so back and forth with him - I'd hate him one minute and simply melt the next! He was certainly a charmer - both with Fleur and me! I enjoyed the relationship between mother and daughter as it grew too. Marie grew on me - I wasn't sure about her at first but, as both Fleur and the reader learn more about her, she became a woman to be proud of. I couldn't put this one down. I was on the edge of my seat the whole time - and not just due to suspense, but because I wanted to know what would happen next with Louis and Fleur. This book has it all - some mystery and action, love, steamy sex! What more could a girl ask for! I cannot wait to read Ms. Young's next book of the series, "The Australian". Thank you, Ms. Young, for writing a story that draws the reader in and keeps them there!! (received copy for honest review)
★★★★★
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ReplyDeleteMy pleasure! Already signed up for the Tasty Book Tour of the Australian - really looking forward to it! Have a great day!
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