So come on get higher, loosen my lips
Monogamy was a new concept for Gabrielle. It wasn’t that she had previously been opposed to the idea, per se, but out of the legions of men she met through work, none of them had been able to hold her attention for longer than a week. And, while it wasn’t the rule, many of them didn’t want to be in a committed relationship. They’d wanted the chance to brag to their mates about the model they’d boffed at that last party, and Gabrielle hadn’t tried to keep them around.
It was different with Neil. He wasn’t intimidated by her career -- or if he was, he never let it show. He respected her, and she was very fond of him. However, their respective schedules made it difficult to find time to spend together. Since the evening of their double date with Neil’s brother and his new sister-in-law, they hadn’t been able to see one another.
She was supposed to be in Cozumel. But with a bit of inclement weather -- hurricanes weren’t conducive to swimsuit shoots -- she’d been able to skip back to Britain for a day. It was the perfect time to surprise her boyfriend with a visit.
The elevator doors at Blomstrom & Pritchard opened with a soft ‘ding,’ and Gabrielle’s eyes immediately found those of her boyfriend’s perky secretary, Polly. She and the other woman had sent several owls, but no plans had been concrete until the night before when she knew for certain she would be in the country.
“Bonjour, Polly,” she said, plush carpet muffling her footsteps as she stepped into the elegant foyer. She tipped her head back to look at the secretary from beneath the rim of her floppy straw hat. “Are you ‘aving a good day?”
The strawberry blonde grinned at her boss’ lady friend, eyes crinkling with shared mischief. “Hello, Gabrielle. I’m fine. Neil should be gone another five minutes or so, if you want to set up and wait for him.” In all the time she’d worked for Neil, her boss had never had a woman pop in to surprise him. Polly was debating whether she should take a long lunch to give them privacy or stick around to run interference. She cleared her throat. “Should I make myself scarce?”
Gabrielle gave a breezy wave of her hand. “Eef you would like. I am not thinking we will be inconveniencing you. But eef you were wanting to go outside, eet ees lovely for England.” Her nose crinkled; she still had issues with the English weather, much preferring the warm climates of Provence to the rainier style of her new home.
“Alright, well it’s about time for my lunch break anyway. I’ll give the two of you some privacy.” Gathering her pocketbook, Polly started for the office door before looking back with a grin. “Enjoy your surprise. I’m sure the boss will.”
“Mmmm, I am ‘oping so, oui.” Giving the other woman a little finger wave, Gabrielle cheerily sauntered back toward her boyfriend’s office. As Polly had said, it was still empty -- giving her time to set up her surprise.
Setting down the small bag she’d tucked beneath her purse, she reached in and began to pull out supplies. A black and white blanket she had proccured from her sister was spread out on the floor, followed shortly by the bucket of ice and bottle of Coteaux du Layon she had been chilling since the morning. She worked quickly, settling matching pillows around the edge while laying out the tomato tart she had painstakingly baked herself -- a first for her! -- and the simple salad with an olive oil vinaigrette.
Gabrielle could not cook, but it was something she’d been wanting to try. Since devising her surprise for her boyfriend, she had spent several evenings in Fleur’s kitchen, learning how to make the simplest of French dishes -- the quintessential tart. Her sister had finally called her product edible; quite good, even. She was hoping Neil agreed.
She could hear the front door open and heavy footsteps start down the hall. Hurriedly, she arranged the box of macarons she’d picked up from Pierre Hermé next to the empty wine glasses, then settled down on the floor to wait for her boyfriend.
“Polly!” Neil looked around his outer office, eager to get his secretary started on the correspondence his client meeting necessitated. “Bugger, you’ve already gone to lunch,” he commented to himself after realizing the room was empty.
He was still grumbling to himself when he pushed into his own private office, distracted enough that he’d nearly reached his desk before the little picnic and the beautiful woman who’d brought it registered in his brain. “Gabrielle!” he exclaimed in surprise. “What a nice surprise, love.” He reached for her and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips.
She smiled up at him, giggling at the surprised look on his face. “Bien. I was ‘oping you would not mind. I told Polly eet was alright to take ‘er lunch, as I ‘ave brought you yours.”
“You mean you’re not it?” Neil asked with a wolfish leer before nipping the soft skin of her long neck. “You look perfectly edible to me.” Not that actual sustenance hadn’t been in his mind earlier. It was lunch time and his stomach was beginning to feel the absence of food. It wouldn’t have have broken his heart to wait a bit longer if a more appealing offer presented itself.
Gabrielle laughed and reached up to tug him down onto the blanket next to her. He was sure to hurt his back or neck if they kept kissing at the odd angle. “But I am ze dessert, bien sûr. Until zen, we are ‘aving un déjeuner Provençal.”
Chuckling, Neil kicked off his loafers and looked over the spread his girlfriend had brought for them. Wine - which he was certain was fantastic, Gabrielle knew her wines - a salad that looked crisp and refreshing, and a very tasty looking tart. “Wow, you’ve put together quite a meal. Le Garrick at Covent?” Gabrielle didn’t cook.
She shook her head. “Non. Chez moi.”
“Really?” Neil looked again at the tomato tart, slightly browned slices of cheese dappled across the top. It looked good. He was impressed. Leaning over, his lips brushed her cheek. “Thank you, love. It looks delicious.”
“Merci.” She was hoping it tasted as delicious as it looked. A simple tarte was something every French woman (and most men) could do -- yet it was a skill Gabrielle was only just now acquiring. They’d had elves growing up, and she’d never really had the desire to learn how to cook until now. It had been the same with Fleur; her sister had told her she’d not known much about culinary arts until she’d married Bill.
Not that Gabrielle was thinking about matrimony. Mon dieu, non. But she liked Neil quite a bit, and she had wanted to surprise him. He knew she couldn’t -- or didn’t -- cook.
“So.” She reached over and grabbed one of the wine glasses. A practiced hand poured the blush wine and handed it to him before pouring herself another. “A toast, I am theenking. To a ‘urricane in Mexico?”
“To hurricanes that keep my girlfriend close to me,” he agreed. Gabrielle’s line of work kept her traveling frequently, and his own career required some hours fairly often, so they weren’t able to see one another as often as Neil would like. It was nice to have her company when he hadn’t expected to, and he was touched by the trouble she’d gone to for him.
Taking a sip, his expectations were confirmed. The wine was light and fruity and quite tasty. “It’s nice to have a little more time with you before you have to rush off across the globe.”
Her lips curled against her wine glass. “Well,” she said coyly, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth, “I am ‘earing zat eet will take at least two more days to clean up from ze storm and reset ze shoot. I am not thinking I will need to go back to Mexico until Friday at ze earliest.”
Taking a moment to mentally review his schedule for the next day, Neil quickly determined there was nothing that couldn’t be rearranged without too much difficulty. “Well, I suppose you’ll just have to spend the day with me tomorrow to while away the time until they’re ready for you.”
“You can miss ze work?” She had only hoped to surprise him with lunch -- and, if she was being honest, a little après-work fun. She did have some new lingerie she thought he might appreciate. Gabrielle’s smile grew, and she leaned in to brush her nose over his cheek, a light kiss dusting his skin whens he murmured, “Pour moi?”
Neil set his glass down carefully, then tugged Gabrielle into his lap. “I think I can make it work, if you think a full day together would be worth my while, of course.” He winked. He had no doubt that his lovely lady would make the day very worthwhile.
Her lips parted in mock surprise, and she reached up to grasp his lapels lightly. “Well,” she said, glancing up at him from beneath long blonde lashes, “we ‘ave not ‘ad time to spend together since zat night... I am thinking to make it worthwhile for you, mon chéri.”
Leaning close, he nipped her lip. “I will be looking forward to that.” Pulling back again, Neil grinned. “Right now I’m looking forward to trying this meal my girlfriend has made for me. Such an effort requires proper focus and appreciation.”
Gabrielle’s nose crinkled when she smiled as brightly as she could. “Bien.” Sliding off her lap, she wiggled and pulled the hem of her dress down as she made herself comfortable on the floor next to him; it wasn’t that he hadn’t seen everything there was to see, but she had been raised a lady.
“Donc, would you like a piece of ze tart first, or per’haps ze salad?”
“I think I’d like to try your tart. The salad can wait a few minutes.” She’s made them both for him, but of the two the tart was the more ambitious endeavor. It was only proper to let the dish have a moment of glory.
Stomach instantly twisting into a knot, she tried to ignore the nerves that suddenly sprung forth. It had taken her a long time -- much longer than she would have liked -- to perfect the simple tomato tart; even after her sister had suggested buying a tart and passing it off as her own cooking, she’d kept trying. Stupid tart shell.
Summoning the knife she’d packed, she cut a generous slice of tart and slid it onto one of the plates. “Voila. Une tarte à la tomate.”
Neil lifted the plate and brought the portion of tart to his lips. Taking a bite, he chewed thoughtfully, as if examining the texture and flavor with extreme care. When at last he swallowed, his blue eyes settled on Gabrielle’s seriously. “Delicious,” he said, allowing a hint of a grin to show.
Merlin help her, she nearly giggled with excitement. Mon dieu, j’ai quelle âge?, she thought, but she was unable to stop the happy smile that pulled at her lips. “Bien. You can never ‘ave knowing ‘ow zese sorts of things will work, non?”
“There is risk in every new adventure,” the barrister said sagely. Leaning forward, he kissed his girlfriend lightly before taking another bite of the tart she’d made for him. “Really, love, it’s very good and I’m flattered that you went through the trouble for me. This is a perfect mid-day break.”
Her lips curled in an even wider smile. “I am ‘appy you are liking it.” The tarte was only the beginning; she had more plans for her very handsome boyfriend before the lunching hour was over. “I ‘ave missed you, ma chèr.”
“Have you?” he joked. “With all those strapping young models around all the time? You miss me and my legal briefs?” Neil had been surprised at how much he missed Gabrielle when she was away for work - which was often - but he hadn’t given much thought to whether she missed him. She was young and visiting busy cities with exclusive nightlife scenes. Things that were much more exciting than him.
She blinked. “Of course I do.” And it was true, she did miss Neil when she was away for work. Oh, work was always exciting -- and Gabrielle did enjoy going out at night with the other models. But recently, she’d found herself turning away prospective dance partners, wishing for a particular someone to be there with her instead. She’d written to him before to tell him just that, but those letters had been crumbled and thrown away. Her English was hard to understand when spoken, and it was even worse in writing.
“Well, that’s good to know,” he said as he brought the wine to his lips. Neil didn’t know where his relationship with Gabrielle would lead, but he genuinely enjoyed her company. She was sweet and fun, and the fact that she was stunning certainly didn’t detract from her other qualities. “I’d hate to think you went galavanting around the world without giving me a thought.”
“Mmm, non, you are in many of my thoughts.” Gabrielle brought her own glass to her lips and took a sip.
The rest of the picnic passed in amiable silence, broken up by the occasional bit of small talk as they both enjoyed the salad and tarte that Gabrielle had prepared. The blonde was counting on Polly to take an extended lunch break -- surely the secretary would have mentioned if Neil had a meeting immediately after the lunch hour?
When the wine glasses were empty and his plate was clear, Gabrielle smiled and reached for the small box of macarons that lay untouched at the corner of the blanket. “Donc, for dessert, we ‘ave my favorite treat.”
Neil’s eyes fell on the small box and his brows rose. “Another treat? Did you make this one as well?”
“Non.” Her smile took on a wicked edge as she moved closer to him. Rising up on her knees, she slipped one leg over his lap so she could straddle him, her dress riding dangerously high on her bare thighs. She opened the box and unfolded the delicate tissue paper, revealing the row of brightly colored macarons nestled inside.
With a soft hum of decision, she selected a pale blue sweet -- lavender; one of her favorites. “‘Ave you ever tasted un macaron?”
With a smirk, he shook his head slowly, large hands curling around her pale thighs. “Not that I recall. They’re quite colorful. I don’t believe I’ve seen this particular color in a food item before.”
“Eet ees a talent we French ‘ave, to make them.” She shifted on his lap and brought the delicate macaron to his lips. “Will you ‘ave a taste?”
Taking a small bite of the light blue biscuit-like sweet, the unusual flavor filled his mouth. Neil gave a hum of approval as his hands slid further up beneath her short dress. Giving her bum a squeeze, he tugged her down, as close as possible. “Very nice.”
“Very nice indeed,” she whispered, closing the minute gap between them for a soft kiss. “I am theenking eet ees not the only thing that could be nice, peut-être...”
“I think you might be right, love.” No further chatter was needed as Neil went about proving the point.
Summary: Gabrielle comes home early from a shoot to surprise Neil with lunch. No one dies as a result of her cooking!
It was different with Neil. He wasn’t intimidated by her career -- or if he was, he never let it show. He respected her, and she was very fond of him. However, their respective schedules made it difficult to find time to spend together. Since the evening of their double date with Neil’s brother and his new sister-in-law, they hadn’t been able to see one another.
She was supposed to be in Cozumel. But with a bit of inclement weather -- hurricanes weren’t conducive to swimsuit shoots -- she’d been able to skip back to Britain for a day. It was the perfect time to surprise her boyfriend with a visit.
The elevator doors at Blomstrom & Pritchard opened with a soft ‘ding,’ and Gabrielle’s eyes immediately found those of her boyfriend’s perky secretary, Polly. She and the other woman had sent several owls, but no plans had been concrete until the night before when she knew for certain she would be in the country.
“Bonjour, Polly,” she said, plush carpet muffling her footsteps as she stepped into the elegant foyer. She tipped her head back to look at the secretary from beneath the rim of her floppy straw hat. “Are you ‘aving a good day?”
The strawberry blonde grinned at her boss’ lady friend, eyes crinkling with shared mischief. “Hello, Gabrielle. I’m fine. Neil should be gone another five minutes or so, if you want to set up and wait for him.” In all the time she’d worked for Neil, her boss had never had a woman pop in to surprise him. Polly was debating whether she should take a long lunch to give them privacy or stick around to run interference. She cleared her throat. “Should I make myself scarce?”
Gabrielle gave a breezy wave of her hand. “Eef you would like. I am not thinking we will be inconveniencing you. But eef you were wanting to go outside, eet ees lovely for England.” Her nose crinkled; she still had issues with the English weather, much preferring the warm climates of Provence to the rainier style of her new home.
“Alright, well it’s about time for my lunch break anyway. I’ll give the two of you some privacy.” Gathering her pocketbook, Polly started for the office door before looking back with a grin. “Enjoy your surprise. I’m sure the boss will.”
“Mmmm, I am ‘oping so, oui.” Giving the other woman a little finger wave, Gabrielle cheerily sauntered back toward her boyfriend’s office. As Polly had said, it was still empty -- giving her time to set up her surprise.
Setting down the small bag she’d tucked beneath her purse, she reached in and began to pull out supplies. A black and white blanket she had proccured from her sister was spread out on the floor, followed shortly by the bucket of ice and bottle of Coteaux du Layon she had been chilling since the morning. She worked quickly, settling matching pillows around the edge while laying out the tomato tart she had painstakingly baked herself -- a first for her! -- and the simple salad with an olive oil vinaigrette.
Gabrielle could not cook, but it was something she’d been wanting to try. Since devising her surprise for her boyfriend, she had spent several evenings in Fleur’s kitchen, learning how to make the simplest of French dishes -- the quintessential tart. Her sister had finally called her product edible; quite good, even. She was hoping Neil agreed.
She could hear the front door open and heavy footsteps start down the hall. Hurriedly, she arranged the box of macarons she’d picked up from Pierre Hermé next to the empty wine glasses, then settled down on the floor to wait for her boyfriend.
“Polly!” Neil looked around his outer office, eager to get his secretary started on the correspondence his client meeting necessitated. “Bugger, you’ve already gone to lunch,” he commented to himself after realizing the room was empty.
He was still grumbling to himself when he pushed into his own private office, distracted enough that he’d nearly reached his desk before the little picnic and the beautiful woman who’d brought it registered in his brain. “Gabrielle!” he exclaimed in surprise. “What a nice surprise, love.” He reached for her and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips.
She smiled up at him, giggling at the surprised look on his face. “Bien. I was ‘oping you would not mind. I told Polly eet was alright to take ‘er lunch, as I ‘ave brought you yours.”
“You mean you’re not it?” Neil asked with a wolfish leer before nipping the soft skin of her long neck. “You look perfectly edible to me.” Not that actual sustenance hadn’t been in his mind earlier. It was lunch time and his stomach was beginning to feel the absence of food. It wouldn’t have have broken his heart to wait a bit longer if a more appealing offer presented itself.
Gabrielle laughed and reached up to tug him down onto the blanket next to her. He was sure to hurt his back or neck if they kept kissing at the odd angle. “But I am ze dessert, bien sûr. Until zen, we are ‘aving un déjeuner Provençal.”
Chuckling, Neil kicked off his loafers and looked over the spread his girlfriend had brought for them. Wine - which he was certain was fantastic, Gabrielle knew her wines - a salad that looked crisp and refreshing, and a very tasty looking tart. “Wow, you’ve put together quite a meal. Le Garrick at Covent?” Gabrielle didn’t cook.
She shook her head. “Non. Chez moi.”
“Really?” Neil looked again at the tomato tart, slightly browned slices of cheese dappled across the top. It looked good. He was impressed. Leaning over, his lips brushed her cheek. “Thank you, love. It looks delicious.”
“Merci.” She was hoping it tasted as delicious as it looked. A simple tarte was something every French woman (and most men) could do -- yet it was a skill Gabrielle was only just now acquiring. They’d had elves growing up, and she’d never really had the desire to learn how to cook until now. It had been the same with Fleur; her sister had told her she’d not known much about culinary arts until she’d married Bill.
Not that Gabrielle was thinking about matrimony. Mon dieu, non. But she liked Neil quite a bit, and she had wanted to surprise him. He knew she couldn’t -- or didn’t -- cook.
“So.” She reached over and grabbed one of the wine glasses. A practiced hand poured the blush wine and handed it to him before pouring herself another. “A toast, I am theenking. To a ‘urricane in Mexico?”
“To hurricanes that keep my girlfriend close to me,” he agreed. Gabrielle’s line of work kept her traveling frequently, and his own career required some hours fairly often, so they weren’t able to see one another as often as Neil would like. It was nice to have her company when he hadn’t expected to, and he was touched by the trouble she’d gone to for him.
Taking a sip, his expectations were confirmed. The wine was light and fruity and quite tasty. “It’s nice to have a little more time with you before you have to rush off across the globe.”
Her lips curled against her wine glass. “Well,” she said coyly, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth, “I am ‘earing zat eet will take at least two more days to clean up from ze storm and reset ze shoot. I am not thinking I will need to go back to Mexico until Friday at ze earliest.”
Taking a moment to mentally review his schedule for the next day, Neil quickly determined there was nothing that couldn’t be rearranged without too much difficulty. “Well, I suppose you’ll just have to spend the day with me tomorrow to while away the time until they’re ready for you.”
“You can miss ze work?” She had only hoped to surprise him with lunch -- and, if she was being honest, a little après-work fun. She did have some new lingerie she thought he might appreciate. Gabrielle’s smile grew, and she leaned in to brush her nose over his cheek, a light kiss dusting his skin whens he murmured, “Pour moi?”
Neil set his glass down carefully, then tugged Gabrielle into his lap. “I think I can make it work, if you think a full day together would be worth my while, of course.” He winked. He had no doubt that his lovely lady would make the day very worthwhile.
Her lips parted in mock surprise, and she reached up to grasp his lapels lightly. “Well,” she said, glancing up at him from beneath long blonde lashes, “we ‘ave not ‘ad time to spend together since zat night... I am thinking to make it worthwhile for you, mon chéri.”
Leaning close, he nipped her lip. “I will be looking forward to that.” Pulling back again, Neil grinned. “Right now I’m looking forward to trying this meal my girlfriend has made for me. Such an effort requires proper focus and appreciation.”
Gabrielle’s nose crinkled when she smiled as brightly as she could. “Bien.” Sliding off her lap, she wiggled and pulled the hem of her dress down as she made herself comfortable on the floor next to him; it wasn’t that he hadn’t seen everything there was to see, but she had been raised a lady.
“Donc, would you like a piece of ze tart first, or per’haps ze salad?”
“I think I’d like to try your tart. The salad can wait a few minutes.” She’s made them both for him, but of the two the tart was the more ambitious endeavor. It was only proper to let the dish have a moment of glory.
Stomach instantly twisting into a knot, she tried to ignore the nerves that suddenly sprung forth. It had taken her a long time -- much longer than she would have liked -- to perfect the simple tomato tart; even after her sister had suggested buying a tart and passing it off as her own cooking, she’d kept trying. Stupid tart shell.
Summoning the knife she’d packed, she cut a generous slice of tart and slid it onto one of the plates. “Voila. Une tarte à la tomate.”
Neil lifted the plate and brought the portion of tart to his lips. Taking a bite, he chewed thoughtfully, as if examining the texture and flavor with extreme care. When at last he swallowed, his blue eyes settled on Gabrielle’s seriously. “Delicious,” he said, allowing a hint of a grin to show.
Merlin help her, she nearly giggled with excitement. Mon dieu, j’ai quelle âge?, she thought, but she was unable to stop the happy smile that pulled at her lips. “Bien. You can never ‘ave knowing ‘ow zese sorts of things will work, non?”
“There is risk in every new adventure,” the barrister said sagely. Leaning forward, he kissed his girlfriend lightly before taking another bite of the tart she’d made for him. “Really, love, it’s very good and I’m flattered that you went through the trouble for me. This is a perfect mid-day break.”
Her lips curled in an even wider smile. “I am ‘appy you are liking it.” The tarte was only the beginning; she had more plans for her very handsome boyfriend before the lunching hour was over. “I ‘ave missed you, ma chèr.”
“Have you?” he joked. “With all those strapping young models around all the time? You miss me and my legal briefs?” Neil had been surprised at how much he missed Gabrielle when she was away for work - which was often - but he hadn’t given much thought to whether she missed him. She was young and visiting busy cities with exclusive nightlife scenes. Things that were much more exciting than him.
She blinked. “Of course I do.” And it was true, she did miss Neil when she was away for work. Oh, work was always exciting -- and Gabrielle did enjoy going out at night with the other models. But recently, she’d found herself turning away prospective dance partners, wishing for a particular someone to be there with her instead. She’d written to him before to tell him just that, but those letters had been crumbled and thrown away. Her English was hard to understand when spoken, and it was even worse in writing.
“Well, that’s good to know,” he said as he brought the wine to his lips. Neil didn’t know where his relationship with Gabrielle would lead, but he genuinely enjoyed her company. She was sweet and fun, and the fact that she was stunning certainly didn’t detract from her other qualities. “I’d hate to think you went galavanting around the world without giving me a thought.”
“Mmm, non, you are in many of my thoughts.” Gabrielle brought her own glass to her lips and took a sip.
The rest of the picnic passed in amiable silence, broken up by the occasional bit of small talk as they both enjoyed the salad and tarte that Gabrielle had prepared. The blonde was counting on Polly to take an extended lunch break -- surely the secretary would have mentioned if Neil had a meeting immediately after the lunch hour?
When the wine glasses were empty and his plate was clear, Gabrielle smiled and reached for the small box of macarons that lay untouched at the corner of the blanket. “Donc, for dessert, we ‘ave my favorite treat.”
Neil’s eyes fell on the small box and his brows rose. “Another treat? Did you make this one as well?”
“Non.” Her smile took on a wicked edge as she moved closer to him. Rising up on her knees, she slipped one leg over his lap so she could straddle him, her dress riding dangerously high on her bare thighs. She opened the box and unfolded the delicate tissue paper, revealing the row of brightly colored macarons nestled inside.
With a soft hum of decision, she selected a pale blue sweet -- lavender; one of her favorites. “‘Ave you ever tasted un macaron?”
With a smirk, he shook his head slowly, large hands curling around her pale thighs. “Not that I recall. They’re quite colorful. I don’t believe I’ve seen this particular color in a food item before.”
“Eet ees a talent we French ‘ave, to make them.” She shifted on his lap and brought the delicate macaron to his lips. “Will you ‘ave a taste?”
Taking a small bite of the light blue biscuit-like sweet, the unusual flavor filled his mouth. Neil gave a hum of approval as his hands slid further up beneath her short dress. Giving her bum a squeeze, he tugged her down, as close as possible. “Very nice.”
“Very nice indeed,” she whispered, closing the minute gap between them for a soft kiss. “I am theenking eet ees not the only thing that could be nice, peut-être...”
“I think you might be right, love.” No further chatter was needed as Neil went about proving the point.
Summary: Gabrielle comes home early from a shoot to surprise Neil with lunch. No one dies as a result of her cooking!