Things were about to turn really ugly in the atrium. It
wasn't just Paris's active imagination, she knew her
brothers well enough to know when a fight was about to
erupt. The Deveraux brothers were known throughout
Louisiana as hot-tempered brawlers even though they were
all well educated and had been brought up with an excess
of home training. They'd all had what was referred to in
the South as a "gracious plenty" of etiquette, something
their genteel father had insisted on, although no hint of
it was apparent at the moment. There was a running joke in
their hometown that the only reason all four of them
practiced law was to keep each other out of jail, a place
where one or more of them might be headed that very
evening, from the looks of things.
"Paris, what the hell do you think you're doing, letting
him paw you all over in a public place?" This was from
Julian, her oldest brother. Before she could answer, Wade
jumped in. "I don't know who you think you are, but if you
touch my sister again I'll rearrange your face for you,"
he growled at Titus.
Titus gave the furious man a half smile that was
completely at odds with his icy cold stare. "You're
welcome to try," he invited in a quiet, dangerous voice.
At those words Philippe began removing his suit coat. "You
ain't said nothin' but a word. You want some of this, come
on," he said roughly.
Paris had quite enough of their antics by now and stepped
in front of her brothers, grabbing the two nearest,
Philippe and Julian, by their expensive silk
neckties. "Cut it out! What in the world is wrong with you
men — have you lost your minds?"
Wade, her second oldest brother, took issue with her
question, shoving Julian out of the way so he could face
her. "We haven't lost anything, Paris Corinna. I think
you're the one that's gone crazy lettin' this here clown
wallow all over you. We didn't raise you like that," he
said, his voice rising with every word. His southern
accent came out whenever he was enraged, and tonight was
no exception.
Paris's face turned bright red, an ugly contrast to her
rose-colored gown. "You didn't 'raise me' at all," she
countered. "You're my brothers, not my daddy."
"A statement with which I must concur," a deep voice
without a trace of humor intoned. Paris turned to find
Julian McArthur Deveraux, known to all as Mac, standing
behind her with a look of utter disgust on his handsome
face.
"Daddy," Paris breathed with a sigh of relief.
Mac acknowledged his daughter with a comforting pat on her
shoulder and a kiss on her cheek. He turned to his sons,
however, with the lowered brow of censure plain for all to
see.
"Why is it that I'm still breaking up your brawls? At your
ages, with your educations, why can't you find it in your
hearts to imitate civilized adults, at least when you're
in decent society? What's gotten into you people?"
Philippe and Julian were busy straightening their ties
while Lucien tried to justify their behavior. "Judge, we
saw Paris leaving the ballroom and this...person followed
her, so we followed them. And you won't believe what he
was doing to her," he added angrily.
The elder Deveraux looked Titus over and seemed to take
his measure. "He was probably doing what any man with
sense would be doing when he's alone with a beautiful
woman. What you all would be doing if you fools could
leave your sister alone long enough to find someone to
tolerate you." He turned to Titus and extended his
hand. "Mac Deveraux, young man. And you are?"
"I'm Titus Argonne, sir. I assure you, sir, I have nothing
but respect for your daughter," he said quietly.
The two men gave each other a long stare as they shook
hands, and were apparently satisfied by what they saw. Mac
nodded to Titus and suggested he take Paris back into the
ballroom. "I seem to need to have a quiet word with some
members of my family." He winked at Paris and said, "Don't
forget to save me a dance, Cupcake."
Paris couldn't trust herself to speak, but she nodded
weakly. Titus put a strong hand on her waist and guided
her in the direction of the ballroom while her brothers
stared after her, all of them scowling and mumbling as the
couple took their leave.
They were about to follow the two of them when their
father's voice stopped them cold. "Where do you lunkheads
think you're going? I'm not through with you, not by a
long shot," he said in the voice they each knew meant
business. He looked at his four sons one at a time, his
expression growing more and more morose. "I've told you
over and over again, Paris is not a child. She's a grown
woman, a very intelligent and accomplished woman and she
can run her own life. She doesn't need you hanging over
her shoulders, nosing around in her business and acting
like her father. That's my job, one I think I accomplished
quite well, thank you. You all need to butt out of her
personal life. This is not a suggestion, it's an order, in
case you were wondering," he said sternly.
"Yeah, but Judge, look at her!" Julian frowned, making him
the mirror image of his handsome father. "When did she get
to be all...all..." His words stopped and he used his
hands to approximate a very curvy woman's frame. "All of a
sudden she's like this...um..." His voice faltered and he
looked to his brothers for aid.
Lucien chimed in at once. "Look, Judge, I don't know if
you've noticed but our Paris has turned into a real
hottie. Out of nowhere she's gotten gorgeous and sexy and
she's gonna have men hanging all over her like that fool
was tonight. We just don't want anything to happen to her,
that's all."
Philippe and Wade agreed. "You know she's been sheltered,
Judge. That's the way you wanted it, the way we all wanted
it," Philippe pointed out.
Wade concurred, saying, "She doesn't know enough about men
to handle all this attention, that's all. We just don't
want her to get hurt."
Mac shook his head. "You'd do well to remember that the
road to hell is paved with good intentions. I'm sure your
hearts are pure and your motives are, too, but you've got
to leave your sister alone. Paris has indeed grown up to
be a stunning woman, something you obviously haven't
noticed until now," he said dryly. "But she's also a very
smart and self-reliant one and she can handle herself.
It's time for you to let your sister handle her own
affairs. Now, why don't we go join the party before these
nice people regret inviting us?"
Without another word he left them standing there with
their mouths open, walking away from them with the stride
of a man who's in complete control of his universe. His
oldest son broke the silence he left behind.
"I don't care what Judge says, Paris is headed for trouble
with this guy and I'm keeping an eye on this situation,"
vowed Julian.
"You got that right, brother," Wade agreed. "This is
something that's going to need our attention."
The four men exchanged their customary handshake, which
was more like a dap and pound ritual. Whether she liked it
or not, Paris had four guardians who took their job very,
very seriously.
Titus took Mac Deveraux at his word, and as soon as he and
Paris arrived in the beautifully decorated ballroom, he
led her out on the dance floor and they danced several
times before they returned to the bridal table. He sat
next to her, pulling his chair closer to hers and smiling
down at her. He could tell she was still embarrassed by
what had taken place earlier and he wasn't having it. He
ran a long finger down her cheek and turned her pretty
face so that she had to look at him. "What's on your mind,
Paris? I can tell you're deep in thought."
Paris made a face as she gently moved Titus's hand. She
didn't let it go; she continued to hold one of his long
fingers and unconsciously stroked it up and down with her
soft, supple hands as she answered him. "I'm trying to
think of a time when I was more embarrassed than I am
right now," she said glumly. "There was the time the top
of my bathing suit came off at the family reunion, but I
was three at the time, so it's not quite the same thing, I
guess."
Titus tried not to smile, but she looked so pretty and so
flustered, he felt his lips turn up in a grin. She kept
talking, trying not to meet his eyes. "Once on the first
day of school my slip fell down. It was a fancy half-slip
and I just had to wear it even though it was too big.
Well, down it came and landed around my ankles right in
front of God and everybody. I mean that literally, too, I
went to a Catholic school. Of course, I was only seven
then, so I managed to live through it. But this
performance is the very limit, it really is. This just
passes all understanding. I've always known they were
protective, but this..." Her voice trailed off as her head
went down a notch.
"Listen, Paris, you don't have to apologize for having
protective brothers. As fine as you are they'd be crazy
not to be concerned about you. You're a very sexy woman
and they're smart enough to know that all kinds of men are
going to be after you," he said honestly.
Paris hadn't released his finger and the touch of her hand
was having an odd effect on him. Her delicate strokes gave
him a heightened sensitivity as sensual as it was
unexpected. Titus wasn't prepared for the sudden arousal
that grew as she continued to play with his finger, with a
sweet and unaffected sensuality that came from the fact
that she didn't realize she was doing it. She was totally
unaware of the effect her touch was having on him, her
mind was focused on the words he was saying. He cleared
his throat and gently retrieved his finger, kissing her on
the forehead as he did so. He was pleased to hear a little
throaty giggle as his lips touched her soft skin.
"That's better," he said with satisfaction. "Don't let
your big brothers get you down, they're just showing you
love."
"The sad thing is, only two of them are my big brothers.
Philippe and Lucien are younger than I am," she said,
making a face. "And every single one of them thinks he's
my daddy, which is ridiculous. I have a perfectly good
father and I don't need four bodyguards. I can take care
of myself," she added with flashing eyes.
Titus loved the look of determination on her face. He
liked all her expressions; Paris wasn't the kind of woman
who could hide her feelings. Whatever she was thinking was
reflected on her classic features and made her even more
attractive. He was about to tell her that when the DJ
called for the bridesmaids to dance with the bride. They
had a big disco number planned and Paris went to join the
other women on the floor.
Titus settled back in his chair to watch Paris as she and
the other bridesmaids danced energetically to "Boogie
Wonder-land," the old Earth Wind and Fire classic. Nina
Whitney-Flores loved disco music and he could see why; she
was incredibly adept at the kind of dancing that went
along with it. But so was Paris, matching Nina step for
step.
Her creamy skin was aglow and her rosy lips were parted in
a smile as she tossed her long thick black hair out of her
eyes. All of the bridesmaids looked fantastic in their
dresses, but Paris looked the best, in his opinion. Each
dress was slightly different from the others, something
he'd never seen before, not that he'd ever really paid any
much attention to the outfits worn by bridesmaids. Paris's
dress had a sweetheart neckline that extended into a sexy
halter and it curved to her body in a way that really
accentuated her figure. The skirt of the dress flowed out
to a matinee length that allowed a provocative glimpse of
her trim ankles and suddenly he was consumed with the
desire to see more of her stunning legs. Paris was built
just the way he liked his women; she was tall and stacked
with a nice full bosom, small waist, big hips and a lush,
rounded behind that swayed when she walked. And she had
big shapely legs, too. Titus had a serious weakness for a
big thick woman. He was six feet six inches tall and
muscular and he had no use for a petite little thing. His
eyes continued to follow Paris on the dance floor and he
smiled in satisfaction. This was an affair he couldn't
wait to begin. He'd been flirting around with Paris long
enough; it was time for the real thing to start.