by Alexia Adams
Maya tried to get out of the chair, but it took both Vivi and Anna to help her stand. “I love being pregnant, but I think I’m ready to meet these two face-to-face.” Her belly lurched visibly—no doubt the babies agreed. She rubbed her hands over the bump. “And yes, mes enfants, we will be having words about turning your mama’s abdomen into your personal cage fighting ring.”
“How much longer till you’re due?” Anna asked. She’d always wanted children of her own, but it had seemed such a distant dream over the past years that she’d deliberately shut her mind to it.
“Six weeks officially. But at my appointment last week, the doctor said that both babies are a healthy weight. So if I go into labor early, there shouldn’t be any complications.”
Anna nodded. “Having watched Jacques fuss over you, I’m surprised he let you get on the plane at all.”
Vivi rolled her eyes and chuckled, but it was Maya who answered. “He chartered a specialty plane with a surgical suite, hired an entire obstetrics team to fly with us, and purchased two state-of-the-art incubators,” Maya said. “But his first wife died while pregnant, so I’m giving him a pass on his obsessive worrying this time.”
Now Anna could better understand Jacques’s preoccupation with Maya’s health. “I hope everything goes smoothly,” Anna replied. “You will let me know when they’re born, won’t you?”
Her friendship with these two women, although recent, was too precious to lose. She had a lot of people who worked for her, and many of them even cared. But it had been a long, long time since someone had accepted her without expecting anything in return. And even longer since she’d felt that being Anna was enough.
“Of course. And I meant what I said about visiting us in France. Jacques has very impressive security measures in place if that’s still an issue.”
“I’ll keep it in mind.” Anna opened the door and all three women filed out of the bedroom, halting when they saw Jacques, Tiago, and Eduardo waiting at the end of the hallway with another man.
“Daniel!” Maya waddled forward and flung herself at the newcomer. “Is Lexy with you?”
Ah, now she recognized Tiago and Jacques’s brother, Daniel Michaud, the Formula 1 race-car driver and Max’s soon-to-be stepdad.
“Of course,” Daniel replied. He hugged his sister-in-law and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, tucking her against his side. “She’s in the kitchen. Max is giving her a full recital of every car he’s been in or seen since we left for the race in China.”
Jacques peeled Maya off his brother and wrapped both arms around his wife from behind, his large hands resting protectively on her baby bump. A wave of longing swamped Anna, and she missed the first part of Tiago introducing her to Daniel.
“We’ve met,” Daniel said. “She performed a concert after the Singapore Grand Prix a few years ago. Nice to see you again, Angel.”
“I prefer to be called Anna by my friends,” she said. She’d made the first steps to reclaim herself from her onstage persona; she wasn’t going to stop now.
“Then Anna it is, if I’m to be honored as one of your friends,” Daniel said, enveloping her in a friendly hug. From the corner of her eye, she saw Eduardo stiffen and take one step forward.
“Congratulations on your win in China. I didn’t know much about Formula 1 before I performed at the concert. Now I’m hooked.” Her gaze sought out Eduardo. “Although rugby will always be my number-one sporting passion.”
Daniel, too, turned to look at Eduardo. “I can understand that. If you ever want to attend a race, just let me know and I’ll get you a paddock pass.”
“Thanks.”
Eduardo moved next to her. “Anna, we need to talk about last night,” he said quietly as the others engaged in a family reunion where people were actually happy to see each other.
She nodded, and they headed upstairs to Tiago’s home office. Pierre Dubois, commando extraordinaire, stared out the glass door that led to a Juliet balcony. He was still dressed in his black fatigues, a steaming mug of coffee cradled in his hands. He turned as they entered the room.
“Thank you for rescuing me so promptly and efficiently,” Anna said. What was the protocol here? Do you hug a mercenary? Send a bottle of scotch or a case of beer? Maybe a fancy gadget for an assault rifle?
“No problem. Although I apologize that you were taken. I admit, I prefer action to waiting around for something to happen.”
She could understand that. Although she’d had her fill of that particular brand of adventure for a few centuries. “Will it keep happening?”
“That rather depends on the outcome of this discussion,” Pierre said. He nodded at Eduardo, who, with a hand at her waist, led her over to the sofa. He sat next to her, lacing his fingers with hers. She hadn’t realized how cold she was until he touched her.
“What did you discover?” She was too squeamish to ask how they’d extracted the information.
“The kidnappers—who, by the way, were two of the most inept criminals I’ve come across—were hired by Theo Carsdale. Does that name mean anything to you?”
Anna shook her head. Odd. She’d always figured a person would know the name of their mortal enemy.
“He’s a mid-level manager in an organized crime syndicate operating in the southwestern United States.”
“Still not ringing any bells,” she said. “Did one of my songs upset him?” Because aside from a couple of tour dates in the area a few years ago, she hadn’t ventured into that part of the world since her late husband had become housebound.
“No, but your mother absconding with two-point-one million dollars of his money did.”
“What?” She’d have leapt from the sofa if Eduardo hadn’t kept a hold on her hand.
“It seems your mother was laundering money for him through the casinos. Only on the last run, she didn’t return the clean cash. Evidently, Carsdale was hoping that after the incidents in BA, you’d get scared and run home to Mommy, thus revealing her location. They escalated to kidnapping, intending to leak your abduction to the media to lure her out of hiding or prompt an equivalent-sum payout by your management.”
“Dios.” She rubbed her temples with her free hand. This clearly wasn’t the first time that Pierre had delivered shocking news, because he waited for her to sort through her thoughts and emotions before pressing for a response.
How dare her mother put her in this position? Was this all she could expect from her only living relative—to be a pawn in a game she didn’t ask to join? The questions whirled inside her, plucking at her heart, tugging the air from her lungs as she tried to breathe.
“I haven’t spoken to my mother in a long time,” she said. After clearing her throat, she continued, “I fired her as my manager several years ago, and she wasn’t happy. Although I put money in her account each month, our relationship has been very strained. She didn’t call me when my husband died or come to the funeral…”
Eduardo released her hand only to slip his arm around her shoulders and pull her more tightly against him, lending her his strength. “Valentina Marquez has always been selfish,” he said.
Out of instinct, she wanted to defend her mother. But the words wouldn’t form. She’d come to the same conclusion years ago.
“How do you want to proceed?” Pierre asked. He now leaned against the desk. But even in a relaxed pose, there was a lethality about him that kept Anna’s nerves on edge.
“What are our options?” Eduardo asked. Our. Some of the tension eased from her shoulders. She wasn’t alone.
“Easiest way is to pay the missing money to Carsdale. He’ll call off his thugs and no one needs to know anything.”
Anna swallowed. “But my mother gets away with stealing, even though it’s dirty money, and a criminal still gets to profit from other people’s misery.”
Pierre shrugged. “I said it was the easiest, not necessarily the most moral. I deal in tangibles: lives, property, assets. I leave the decisions about what is right and wrong to
others.”
“What else can we do?” she asked.
“I can locate your mother and make her hand over whatever remains of the laundered money to Carsdale. It will be up to him how he reclaims the rest. You may need to boost your security until the debt is paid in full. Unless he chooses to make an example of your mother for anyone else who attempts to swindle him.”
That did not sound pleasant. She may not get on with her parent, but she didn’t want her maimed or killed.
Pierre continued, “Or I find Valentina and turn in the money to the FBI. But I can’t guarantee that your name will stay out of the press if we go the legal route.” He hesitated a moment, and a blank mask replaced the friendliness in his expression. “Fourth option: I eliminate Carsdale, Valentina, or both.” He said it with the detachment of someone who’d done similar, and more.
“We’d rather avoid any … eliminations,” Eduardo replied.
Anna pulled in a deep breath. “So either I pay for my mother’s crime, or my family drama becomes fodder for gossip columnists the world over.”
“That’s about it,” Pierre confirmed.
“She stole two-point-one million?”
“Yes. But for repayment, expect to pony up more. These crime boss types are really keen on compounding interest. And not at a competitive interest rate. To be safe, you’re looking at about two-point-five million if you can pay quickly.”
“It will take me some time to get the cash together. Simon insisted I keep most of my money tied up in long-term investments. He said the music industry was too fickle to rely on a steady income for long.”
“We’ll get the money together by Friday,” Eduardo said. “Can you contact Carsdale and make the arrangements to transfer it? I’m assuming it’s an all-cash deal?”
“Yes, on both accounts,” Pierre said. “Also, Carsdale had an inside woman on your team, Anna. Some intern using the name Marsha Smith. That’s how they found your exact location. They traced a call between you and your assistant. I’d be surprised if she’s still in your employ, but if she is, get rid of her. Do you want me to handle anything on that score?”
Anna shook her head while avoiding Eduardo’s eyes, sure there was a condemnatory I-warned-you-about-that glare waiting for her.
Pierre pushed away from the desk. “I’ll be in touch.”
Anna was mildly surprised that he used the door and not the window to exit the room.
***
Eduardo pulled Anna onto his lap while he still had the opportunity. A tremor shook her body, and her hands were like ice.
“I could get a loan with my next album as collateral,” she said.
“That won’t be necessary. I’ve got the money.”
She raised her head and stared at him. “You’ve got two and a half million US dollars just lying around your apartment?”
“No. But I recently sold one of my investment properties in order to purchase another. I would rather spend that money keeping you safe.”
“Eduardo…”
He put a finger over her lips. “Let me do this for you … for old times’ sake.”
“And new times?”
“Those too.”
“Do they end here?”
He slid her from his lap and strode over to the window. If they didn’t end this now, cleanly, they both risked living the rest of their lives in limbo.
“Yes. They have to. Your life is in LA or touring the world. Mine is here in Argentina.”
“They’re just places, Eduardo. After this album is finished in about three months, I can move back here—”
“Until it’s time to tour. Then you’ll be gone for up to a year, possibly two.”
“You could come with me.”
He shook his head. “No. I’ve worked too hard to get where I am now. I can’t live my life orbiting your star. I have to be my own man.”
“You were the one who told me two days ago that I couldn’t stop singing. That people needed me.”
“And that’s still true. Anna, we knew going into this affair that it was just a temporary reunion. We both got what we wanted from it. You’ve solved your intimacy dilemma and experienced enough emotional highs and lows to write a new album. I got closure. Let’s say a proper goodbye this time and go back to our lives with happy memories.”
“You won’t even try?” The pain in her voice sliced through his heart. No, sliced was too clinical, too clean-cut. It dragged him behind a tractor on a gravel path until he had road rash on his soul.
He ran a hand through his hair. “I have employees for whom I’m responsible. I have plans and dreams that won’t be fulfilled following you around the world. I’ve worked since I was six years old. I’m finally making a name for myself. I can’t… I won’t give that all up to be known as Angel’s boyfriend.”
“What about Angel’s husband?”
A brief flare of hope was extinguished by a memory of his father’s face in his last days. “That either.”
“I love you, Eduardo. I don’t want to say goodbye.”
Every instinct told him to take her in his arms, kiss her senseless, and whisper his devotion to her until their last ten years apart were a distant memory. Dammit. Why couldn’t she just smile and walk away? Did he have to bare his entire soul? “You loved me before and left.”
“But I didn’t know then that it would be for so long. I always thought…” Her voice broke. He couldn’t look at her. Her misery already echoed within him, growing, expanding until everything ached.
“This time you know. We’ll always be special to each other. But we have to move on.” Or at least she did. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to.
She crossed the room to stand in front of him. “Why won’t you tell me you love me?”
Direct hit.
“I told you before. It didn’t make a difference.”
“And if it does this time?”
He tugged on his hair until it hurt. “What difference can it make, Anna? We can’t turn back time. Even if you gave up singing and touring, you’ll still be Angel to the world. I’d be known as the man who destroyed a national treasure. What the hell do you think that would do to my reputation? Besides, I’ve watched you this past week. I’ve seen the seeds of a song take root in your heart. I’ve seen you carefully nurture them until pure magic slips from between your lips. That’s not going to go away if we say ‘I do’ to each other. Music will always be inside you, looking for an escape. One day, another golden opportunity will come along. And it will either lure you away from me again…” He paused to pull in a painful breath. “Or you’ll stay and hate the restrictions our love has put on who you really are. You’ll crumble before my eyes, and I won’t be able to bear it, knowing I’ve broken you.”
Tears streamed down her face unchecked. “So this is it?”
“It has to be.”
“You’re breaking my heart.”
“I’m sorry.”
He walked away before he fell apart.
Chapter Fifteen
Tiago snapped shut his laptop, bringing Eduardo’s attention back to him. They’d spent the last two hours in the Buenos Aires head office of Alva-Suarez Developments, performing a detailed analysis of all current and potential future projects, setting deadlines and allocating responsibilities.
As they’d finished, Tiago had taken a call from Vivi, and Eduardo had allowed his mind to wander. What was Anna doing now? Was she happy back in LA?
“You’ve become a self-fulfilling prophecy,” Tiago said.
That did not sound like a compliment. “What the hell does that mean?”
“You expect every woman to leave you. So you don’t give them a reason to stay.”
“If you’re referring to Anna, she was always going to leave.” Eduardo closed his own laptop, ready to depart before this conversation ended with two men in suits brawling on the floor of a glass-walled boardroom.
Tiago speared him with a look Eduardo had seen him use on Miranda when she was getting
cheeky. “She’d leave Argentina but not you.”
“What’s the difference? My life is here.” He rubbed a hand across his clavicle. It ached like the devil. Which was odd, as the day was nothing but sunshine.
“You can be a man anywhere in the world, you know. Life is mobile.”
Maybe too much marital bliss was softening Tiago’s brain. “I feel it’s my duty as your friend, business partner, and former solicitor to remind you that the reason I am in my current position is so you can spend more time with your family. There is also something in there about moving back to Mendoza to allow for Miranda’s schooling and to expand the winery. Have you changed your plans?”
“No. However, a partner who stares moodily out the window during meetings isn’t helping me do any of those things.”
“You were on the phone with your wife!” Damn, he’d just admitted to staring moodily out the window. Good thing Tiago wasn’t a lawyer and probably wouldn’t catch that confession.
“Ha! You concede that you were lost in morose thoughts.” Eduardo had trained him too well. Before he could open his mouth to refute it, Tiago continued, “And I don’t need to be a mind reader to know you were thinking about Anna. My phone call lasted thirty seconds. You were staring out the window for five minutes.”
“What if I was thinking about her? I’m still doing my job. Did you not read my thirty-page report on the Montevideo opportunity?”
“I did. I also noted that you saved that report to the server at four in the morning. You’re not sleeping, barely eating from the look of you, and I haven’t seen you smile since we left Mendoza.”
“I—” Eduardo’s assertion that he’d get his life together soon halted when Tiago raised his hand. He’d gotten over her leaving before. He’d do it again. Of course, the last time he’d been in the hospital with a handy button that injected him with morphine whenever the pain was too much. As a precaution, he’d asked his housekeeper to remove all alcohol from his apartment and had placed a photo of his father on his desk to remind him of what would happen if he wasn’t careful.