The Frenchman Chosen Bride✔️(Completed)

One

Earlier that day..

Vanessa Bryant wandered up and down the bustling jetty with a frown appearing over the ridge of her sunglasses. She couldn't rememrber exactly which gate she'd been at yesterday: now there were lots of bobbing boats and people lining up to get on board. The man she'd approached had taken no deposits, or given her a ticket, but reassured her that if she came back to him, he would make sure she got on the right boat...the only problem now was that she couldn't find him anywhere.

   Bumping into that stranger in the street just afterwards must have scrambled her brain more than she thought. She shook her head wryly. She'd never thought herself to be the kind of woman who would spend a night fantasizing about someone for mere moments. A newly familiar heat flooded her belly, however, as his tall powerful body and hard boned face swam into her mind's eye, his image still as vivid as if he were standing right in front of her. She shook her head, this time to shake free of the memory. Honestly, this wasn't like her.

   She went towards a gate that looked familiar, tagging onto the end of a queue. When she got to the man at the top he seemed a little harassed. At her query of, excuse moi. C'est le bateau pour les iles? He just gestured immediately into the boat. She hesitated for a moment before figuring what was the worst that could happen? So if she didn't end up exactly where she'd expected to then it would be an adventure. They were going somewhere, and she was on holiday, not everything had to be strictly organized. She needed to relax more.

   Once they were underway she had to admit grudgingly that she was enjoying the breeze and the sun across her shoulders and bare legs. The brightly patterned halterneck dress she wore was a present from her friend Abbie, given with an order to make herself more visible.

   She pushed her sunglasses onto her head, tipping her face up to the sun, and for the first time since landing on the Côte D' Azur a week ago felt a rush of well being and freedom. She didn't even really miss her friend's presence. Abbie was meant to have travelled with her -- after all, it was her family's villa that Vanessa was staying in. But at the last minute Abbie's father had been rushed to the hospital with a suspected heart attack, and this very week was undergoing a delicate operation. The tour had been rushed, but her friend had been insistent.

   "Nessa, if you don't go then I'll feel guilty on top of everything else. Anyway, you'll be doing us a very good favour. No one has been at the house for months, and it needs to be aired, so look at it that way."

   "But I can't just leave when you need me the most..."

   "Look," Abbie pointed out, "you know my family, and we've been assured Dad's gonna be okay... Seeing your little face here would only upset me, and I meant that in a good way."

   She knew Abbie was just acting brave, that the outcome was anything but assured, and didn't want to put her under any more pressure. "Okay, okay."

   Vanessa had given in. Abbie was right; there wasn't anything she could do. With a formidable mother, three sisters and two brothers she would only get in the way. And of the two brothers one in particular was intent on pursuing Vanessa. Not sure how she felt about Benedict, who was lovely, if a little dull, Vanessa was well aware that the campaign would have been taken up with enthusiasm by Abbie had she had the opportunity.

   She got up and wandered over to the railing, shades back on against the glare of the sun, the sea spray catching her every now and then.

   She still couldn't help a little pang of guilt at enjoying her solitude so much. She really hadn't expected to embrace it, but for the first time in her twenty-six years she was truly alone, without the crushing responsibility she'd carried for so long.