Free Tonight or Never by Dara Joy Page A

than one occasion.
    " Grandmere , I need to speak with you."
    The countess looked up from the lovely herbal posy she was fashioning for her granddaughter. "What is it, ma petite ?"
    Chloe bit her lip. How to start? "Well… it's about… you see… tonight."
    Grandmere put down the bouquet, smiling gently at her. "You are worried about the wedding night, my angel?"
    Chloe started to shake her head no; the countess's arm coming around her shoulders stopped her.
    "There is nothing to fear. You will be just fine. I am positive John will know exactly what to do." She winked at her granddaughter. "Even if he is not French."
    "But—"
    "Do you think I would entrust you to just anyone? Non , you will see; John has always taken care of his Chloe and he will tonight—listen to your Grandmere . Of this I am certain."
    "I'm not sure what—"
    "He will lead you; follow his direction."
    She intended to. This was very nice but it was not helping her with her problem. "How shall I… handle him, Grandmere ? Everyone knows he goes his own way."
    "Ah. It is an age-old problem, this." The countess nodded sagely. "The woman must be in control, of course."
    Now we are getting somewhere . Grandmere was extremely knowledgeable in the ways of men. "And how do I do that?" she asked candidly.
    "You must give him everything," the countess stated with the conviction of the femme fatale.
    " Everything ?" That sounded dangerous.
    "Everything." The older woman grinned slowly. "But…"
    "But what?" Chloe leaned in to get this priceless bit of advice.
    "You must let him think you are holding something back."
    She considered the wisdom in this. "What good would that do?"
    "It will drive him crazy! He will keep wondering what it is you are not giving him; and if he is a real man, he will always come back to claim what he believes should be his."
    "Even though it does not exist?"
    " Mais out The man seeks to conquer the woman—to make her his. By letting him think he hasn't fully done so, you are engaging him in a contest of wills. Men adore challenges—it keeps them lively."
    Chloe wasn't convinced. Furthermore, John seemed lively enough as it was. "Are you sure about this?"
    " Oui ! Very sure."
    Hmmm. "Is—is this what you do with Maurice?
    "Yes! For years, every time he asks me to marry him, I refuse. C'est pa , he is in the palm of my hand." The countess gestured with her fingers.
    Chloe cocked her head to the side as she contemplated the prudence of such an approach. "It could be risky."
    "Anything worthwhile is risky."
    "I suppose…"
    "Don't worry too much, dear; they never seem to catch on. Men often have to be hit over the head simply to see what is in front of them. Such is their nature. " .
    Chloe blinked as the solution became crystal clear. Of course ! Why hadn't she seen it earlier? It was brilliant. John would never know!
    "Oh, Grandmere , thank you so much!" She hugged her grandmother to her, then ran excitedly from the room.
    The countess smiled fondly after the girl before returning to the posy.
     
    Well hidden and seated behind a dense array of plants, Maurice Chavaneau raised his brows.
    He had been hiding from the guests in the conservatory.
    The soothing lap of the water fountain combined with the lush surroundings had lulled him to sleep long before the countess had even entered the room.
    Their conversation had awakened him.
    A slow grin spread its way across his still-handsome face.
    Ho-ho!
     
    John had to fight his way to the front of the room. The small chapel on the grounds was filled to overflowing. One man had rudely elbowed him in the side, saying, " Too bad, old chap! We were here first! Go back and find your own place."
    John had pierced the man with a deadly look. "Yes, but I'm getting married here… old chap."
    The man had turned beet red. "Sorry," he mumbled.
    John forged ahead. This was impossible! Perhaps one good thing to come of it would be that Percy wouldn't be able to— Blast !
    There he was. Right at the