Unwrapping Her Perfect Match

Chapter Ten

Caroline was the most French Frenchwoman Gwen had ever laid eyes on. As she stood in the entry hanging up her and Agnes's coats, Gwen checked her out. The body beneath her khaki trousers and cashmere sweater was slender without being skinny-the kind of body that screamed, "Why yes, I do live on a diet of brie, croissants and red wine, but I'm a chain smoker so none of the calories stick to my bones." The tips of her brunette hair brushed her shoulders. It shone like she'd just stepped off the set of a shampoo commercial. Her skin was clear and practically free of makeup. What little makeup she wore seemed to highlight the fact that she didn't need any.

And she was petite. She came only to Gwen's upper arm. Just before John awkwardly greeted her by bending in half to kiss her cheek, Gwen noticed that the top of Caroline's head was about level with John's nipples.

How the hell did this woman manage to birth John's baby without being ripped in two? Because their daughter had clearly inherited her father's size, poor thing. At ten years old, she was already her mother's height. Her broad shoulders and long limbs marked her as someone who could someday have a brilliant career as a swimmer, if she stopped hunching. Her hair was brown and thick. Unlike her father, who wore his trimmed short, Agnes's hung in waves to the middle of her back. Her nose had the same bump in the bridge that John's did, a bump that Gwen had assumed had come from a bad break. Apparently not.

The girl kept her face averted toward the floor, standing as close to her mother as she could without actually grabbing her and begging her not to leave. But Caroline wasn't leaving tonight, anyway. She and John had both decided it was best that she stay the first night to make sure Agnes was comfortable.

Why had they never visited before? And why did Agnes seem so awkward and shy with her father? Had they only met each other recently?

But John had told Gwen that he usually spent Christmases with Caroline and Agnes. That didn't sound like he'd only done it a couple of times.

The pseudofamily was a mystery to Gwen, who was too absorbed in figuring it out to notice that Caroline had asked her a question. When the room fell silent, Gwen blinked into awareness and caught the two grownups looking at her expectantly. "Sorry, I faded away for a second there."

"That's all right," Caroline said. In the few moments she'd been there, she'd displayed flawless English with only a hint of an accent. She must've begun learning it quite young. "I was asking if you and John had known each other long."

"A couple of weeks," she replied. John hadn't wanted Caroline to know he was concussed. Gwen hated the thought of lying to a mother who was about to leave her child in their care, but John's medical information belonged to him alone and she wouldn't betray his trust. "My sister is his teammate's partner."

"My captain's partner," John clarified.

Caroline's beautifully tweezed brows arched delicately. "Liam Callaghan? Liam Callaghan is with your sister?"

She put just enough emphasis on the "your" to make her real meaning clear: The god of rugby is shagging someone who looks like you? Of course, she and Tess looked nothing alike, and that just dug the dagger a little deeper. "Yes, they've been together over a year now. Do you know him?"

Please, God, don't say you've slept with him. She'd heard rugby clubs could be quite incestuous, so it wouldn't come as a surprise to find that one woman had slept with several players.

"I've never met him, but my brother knows him."

John chuckled. "Knows him well. Henri plays for Toulon. That's how Caroline and I met."

"Yes, I watched my brother play a match against Legends, and after the match I found John at the bar." Her lips curved in a sardonic smile. "And my life has never been the same since."