A Bride to Redeem Him

by Charlotte Hawkes

  And suddenly he didn’t want to play the charade with her any longer. He was exhausted with playing up to perceptions of how he should be. All he wanted to do was kick back and let the mask slip.

  ‘Louis,’ she bit out abruptly. ‘Is this about getting your own back on your father?’

  He should lie. Come up with another typical quip. Instead, he heard himself respond.

  ‘Maybe. A little. You know, before last night I hadn’t thought about Rainbow House in years. Did you know I usually travelled with her? Backwards and forwards between Chateau Rochepont and the UK? Did you also know that Rainbow House is where my mother died?’

  Died; suicide. Pot-ay-to; pot-ah-to.

  He tried to stuff back the pain he’d thought long since buried. Play it down as he had in the past. But, for once, it didn’t seem to fit back in its dark, wretched cage. Instead, he plastered a smile on his mouth and pretended he didn’t hear the way Alex had sucked in a breath and shot him a look of pure horror.

  ‘I didn’t know that.’ Somehow that made him feel better. ‘Is that why you haven’t taken on her legacy all these years?’

  ‘Partly.’

  He hadn’t been able to bear it. Taking on the legacy of a woman who could have achieved so much more. Who had chosen to take her own life when she could have followed her passion for the Lefebvre Trust; who had chosen to leave her desperate, seven-year-old son behind.

  His only consolation was the fact that only he and his father, and whoever had discovered her that day, knew the truth. It wasn’t in anyone’s best interests to disclose such facts. The last thing Rainbow House would have wanted was negative media attention. Covering up his mother’s suicide had been the one decent thing his father had ever done. And even that hadn’t been for altruistic purposes.

  ‘Her name was Celine, but you already know that.’ He had no idea why he was still speaking. Why he was telling her things he’d never uttered to another soul. But it was like a faulty tap and now he’d opened the faucet he couldn’t shut it off again.

  ‘She didn’t have the greatest life. She was pretty but rather naïve when she met Jean-Baptiste. By the time she found herself pregnant with me, she was nineteen. My grandfather on my father’s side was only too keen to unite two aristocratic families while my grandfather on my mother’s side believed that Jean-Baptiste was doing the honourable thing in marrying Celine.’

  ‘And that was a bad thing?’ Alex was cautious.

  ‘With hindsight my mother was too young, too innocent to handle a man like my father. She would have been better off without him, but an unmarried pregnant woman was still a scandalous thing, especially in this area, back then. My grandfather just wanted to be sure that Celine and her son and rightful heir to the Delaroche estate—me—would be acknowledged.’

  ‘Were you close?’

  ‘Very.’ And suddenly he was fighting off a slew of unwelcome emotions. It was enough to evoke so many memories, but he would not remember her soft voice, her contagious laugh or the fresh scent of her hair when she’d hugged him. He would not remember how they’d spent every single day together, out on walks along the section of Canal du Midi where the chateau was, or collecting pine cones in the surrounding woods. And he would not remember how she’d taught him about the birds and their songs, only for him to have to teach her all over again when he was six and had discovered she’d got it all wrong.

  He could not remember it. He’d long since found that detonating those flashbacks in the deepest, darkest caverns of his soul had been the most effective way to eradicate them.

  ‘Jean-Baptiste was as vile a husband as he was a father.’ Louis flipped the subject quickly. ‘What you saw that night is only a glimpse of it. He’s a bully and a coercer. Gradually, systematically, he beat my mother down until she felt she was worthless.’

  ‘She couldn’t leave him?’

  ‘We talked about it. We agreed how different life would be without Jean-Baptiste’s money or connections, and we concluded how much easier it would be to breathe without his restrictions. That last trip to Rainbow House was to be her final one. When she flew back we were going to leave. Then she...died.’

  He understood why she’d had to be free of his father, but he could never forgive her for choosing such a way out. For not simply packing a bag for them both and fleeing in the dead of night. For leaving him behind.

  ‘I’m sorry for your loss, Louis.’

  Her words wrenched him out of whatever black pit he’d been sliding into. He fell silent, old grief washing over him. And then, for the first time, a hint of something resembling a soothing calm.

  He stared at Alex.

  Was that because of her? He couldn’t be sure.

  She was watching him warily. Opening her mouth, then hesitating and closing it again.

  ‘What is it, Alex?’

  She bit her lip.

  ‘For what it’s worth, your father isn’t as loved by the Delaroche board as you, or the media, seem to think.’

  He didn’t know what flooded through him then.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘It means there are some members of the Delaroche board who would like nothing more than to see your father ousted.’

  ‘That’s absurd.’

  She shook her head.

  ‘No, it isn’t. I told you, I’ve been working at Rainbow House for over a decade. People talk. People talk to me. There are quite a few people who had seen that other side of your father, the one the press seem oblivious to. I hadn’t believed it until I saw for myself the other night. But if you came back, Louis...if you took control of the Lefebvre Group, I think there may be quite a few members who would support your nomination within the Delaroche board as well.’

  ‘But you don’t know for sure.’

  Why did he even care? He had his surgeries, and when he wasn’t at the hospital he had his hedonistic lifestyle. He didn’t want anything to do with either the Lefebvre Group or the Delaroche Foundation. He didn’t belong in that world. He should stick to what he did best.

  Except something niggled at him.

  He thrust it away.

  Alex had asked for his assistance and, though he couldn’t explain why, he wanted to help her. Wanted to make sure she and her father kept the fragile connection between them, the link to her brother. The kind he had never had with his own father, and had lost with the death of Celine.

  ‘If you want to save Rainbow House then you’re still going to have to marry me.’

  ‘There has to be another way. Your position in full control of the group can’t really be wholly dependent on whether you’re married or not.’

  ‘Only it is. And, yes, I could probably fight the clause if I wanted to. Get a top legal team and find some way around it, but it would take time. And I don’t think Rainbow House has that time. Not if the vote to transfer is imminent.’

  ‘Which means you have to get married imminently,’ she said.

  ‘Right. So, Alexandra Vardy, how much does Rainbow House really mean to you?’

  It was a bit of a loaded question, he recognised that as soon as he asked it. But rather than another of her wisecracks, she shot him a sideways look.

  ‘It means more than I could tell you. I just don’t know if we can pull this off.’

  ‘You doubt me?’

  She heaved a deep sigh.

  ‘No, as it happens. I’ve seen how driven and focussed you can be. What you can achieve when you want to. I just don’t know if you want Rainbow House enough.’

  ‘Well, you’re going to have to make a decision.’ He felt unbalanced. Intoxicated. Her decision had been like an intimate caress to the hardest part of his masculinity. Nothing like the fawning, gushing compliments that so often peppered his day yet meant absolutely nothing to him.

  ‘You can trust me and maybe we can save Rainbow Ho
use, or you can fail to trust me and we save nothing.’

  The last thing he expected was her sudden wry grin.

  ‘Hobson’s choice, then.’

  Whether she’d intended it or not, it had the effect of chasing away the uncharacteristic melancholy that had threatened to sweep through him. He suspected she understood that, which was why she’d chosen to back away.

  It should bother him more that she’d been able to read him so easily when he prided himself on the fact that no one else ever could.

  ‘It is. Although regrettably I don’t have an extensive stable of horses.’

  She laughed, and the sound cascaded through him like a pleasant waterfall.

  ‘You can’t really expect me to believe that. Only the other night you told me that your family home is a castle. You truly don’t have huge stables?’

  ‘The stables are long gone. Or at least the horses are gone and the stables have seen better days. They’re not really a priority for my father. Does that count?’

  ‘And what about the media? Do you think you’ll need to get them onside?’

  ‘Possibly. Which I think is where you would come in. I think you’d be the perfect person to charm them.’

  ‘Wow, thanks, I’ll look forward to it.’ She pulled a face. ‘So you think they’ll believe you’re no longer the fickle, play-hard womaniser Louis who has never dated a woman longer than about a week in his life, just by taking a girlfriend...sorry, I mean a fiancée?’

  ‘Why not?’ he murmured. ‘Eligible playboy bachelor tamed by sweet girl next door, it’s an age-old story and people love it.’

  It should be a cliché. But if it was then he was staring right at half of it.

  ‘I’m not the girl next door,’ she snapped, before softening her words with a smile. But it was more brittle than those that had gone before. And the sudden change snagged his attention.

  He wanted to know more about Alex, and she’d just given him the ideal opening.

  * * *

  As though sensing a chink in her armour, Louis suddenly leaned closer and abruptly the huge, vaulted space felt as claustrophobic as a three-by-three tent. The seductive Louis was back, edging closer, and even sitting down his body was definitely one built for sin. Heat swept through her afresh but she ordered herself not to be such a fool, not to fall for it. It was simply an act he knew how to play to perfection.

  ‘Then who are you, Alexandra?’

  The too-sharp edge to his gaze unnerved her, the attraction still zipping between them. Inconvenient and undeniable. One misstep and she got the impression he could convince her to lay her soul bare. She wanted to get back to the banter they’d had before but she had to tread carefully.

  ‘So, Louis...’ She forced a smile, buying herself a little more time. ‘If I did agree to marry you, how do I know you’ll honour your promise to me about Rainbow House?’

  ‘You have my word.’ He shrugged, making her splutter. Her eyebrows shot up to her hair.

  ‘That’s it? The word of a renowned playboy.’

  ‘I might have a reputation as a playboy, but shouldn’t that make me honest rather than a liar? I never promise women something I can’t give them.’

  ‘Is there anything you can’t give women?’ she said, regretting it the moment it came out of her mouth. It would only inflate his already giant ego.

  ‘I appreciate the vote of confidence.’ His crooked smile did things to her. ‘And you’re right. There’s only one thing.’

  ‘And what’s that.’

  ‘Marriage,’ he deadpanned. ‘Commitment.’

  ‘Idiot.’ She actually swatted him. She waited for him to react but he just ramped up the killer grin.

  ‘I deliver in all other areas.’

  ‘So I’ve heard. You have quite the reputation for delivering.’

  ‘Indeed I do. Care to put it to the test?’

  Her whole body reacted, thrumming at the soft teasing of his tone. Grey eyes pierced into her like the short, sharp scratch of a needle into a vein. The air between them appeared to crackle. His eyes locked onto hers and she couldn’t make herself break contact.

  ‘I’m harder to dislike than you thought, aren’t I?’ he teased.

  ‘You keep telling yourself that,’ she bit back, but it lacked any edge.

  And here they were, full circle. He was harder to dislike than she’d believed from his media reputation, she’d been learning that over the last few days. In fact, the more time she spent in his company, the harder it was to see the two sides of him as the same man. She sniffed delicately.

  ‘So if we want to get married then first we have to get the media invested in your apparent redemption.’

  If Louis flinched at the term, he recovered quickly.

  ‘That’s the plan,’ he agreed. ‘Although, full disclosure, there’s nothing remotely redeemable about him left any more. Too many years of playing the wild, arrogant playboy have meant my soul has long since been sold.’

  For a moment she wondered if he truly believed that. There was such an odd tilt to his expression. And then it was gone.

  Still, she felt compelled to answer.

  ‘If Jean-Baptiste can convince the press and public alike that he’s some kind of benevolent force, then I’m sure you, too, can learn to play the part.’

  ‘Don’t tell me that was a compliment.’

  Before she realised it, he leaned forward, his fingers sweeping over her forearm. The fleeting contact was electrifying.

  ‘Take it,’ she suggested, wishing her voice didn’t sound quite so husky. ‘It’s the best you’re getting.’

  ‘Oh, no, trust me. You’ll be doing way better than that before the ink is dry on this so-called marriage. Many of them comparing me to a deity, just as you’re reaching orgasm.’

  Why was it that every time she thought she’d struck a nerve with Louis, he came back more scurrilous than ever? Was it his way of concealing some vulnerability, or was she just imagining something that wasn’t there?

  Either way, she had to stop reacting to him, stop taking the bait.

  ‘I haven’t even agreed to it yet.’

  ‘But you want to.’ Hard, male triumph. ‘Finally we’re getting there. Tell me, what exactly do you have to lose?’

  She stared at him for a moment, wishing she could read his thoughts and then wondering why she cared so much.

  It didn’t make sense.

  ‘My soul, perhaps?’ she offered.

  And maybe something else she didn’t care to admit.

  He laughed, and then suddenly he leaned in. And she found herself wondering what she would do if he closed the gap and kissed her. He was so close, so big, so... Louis. Even his teasing had made her body hum with desire.

  If he kissed her then she had a feeling she would kiss him back.

  And then she would hate herself for it.

  For that reason alone, she pulled away and forced herself to stand up.

  ‘You will come to me, Alex,’ he murmured, so quietly that at first she wasn’t sure if it was just the thoughts in her head, taunting her. Knowing what she was trying to tell her body it didn’t want.

  ‘I won’t.’

  ‘Oh, you will. And when you do, you’ll come willingly. Eagerly. And I’ll be waiting.’

  ‘This has to be a business arrangement, Louis. Not for pleasure. We have to set out the ground rules now.’

  ‘Why not for both?’ he asked, low and sensual. ‘We’ll discuss it tonight. Over dinner. Where the press can see us and we can start the clock ticking. The car will collect you at eight. Be ready, Alex. Don’t keep me waiting.’

  CHAPTER FOUR

  THE NIGHT WAS not going as planned.

  True, the press were outside, tipped off by an anonymous source, as arranged. And he had pre-ordered the soufflé to
suggest that he had given this date care and forethought. But the so-called date itself hadn’t gone as intended.

  He was too distracted, too fascinated by the woman who was sitting opposite him.

  He should have spent the last hour discussing with her the next steps in their plan. Instead, he’d spent it watching her, studying her, trying to learn about her. She was a breed apart from any other women he’d previously...entertained. Not just because she was a doctor, and the kind of skilled anaesthetist he should have known Gordon would want to mentor, but because of her. Because there was something about the woman that he found utterly compelling.

  She was driven and she was focussed, both qualities he’d never looked for in a lover before. Qualities, if he was honest, that he’d gone out of his way to avoid. Sex was simple, but cerebral attraction was a complication he could do without. And there was no doubt he found Alex Vardy utterly desirable; physically and otherwise.

  As if sensing his scrutiny, she lifted her eyes, a scowl knitting her forehead. When she pursed her mouth he was helpless from imagining dragging his thumb over that plump lower lip, dipping his head to taste the sweet heat of her mouth, pulling her body close against his. It was nonsensical. And pathetic. And it made him feel like the kind of hormone-ravaged teenager lusting over the hottest girl in school he’d never been.

  Yet here he was. Imagining.

  ‘Do you have to look at me in quite that way?’ she grumbled suddenly.

  ‘Sorry?’ He flashed her the slow, easy smile that women never failed to respond to.

  Alex, however, appeared less than impressed.

  ‘That way.’ She waved her hand abstractedly in the air towards him. ‘As though I’m some kind of puzzle box and you’re trying to work me out.’

  Another little nugget of information about her that he found himself seizing upon.

  ‘You enjoy puzzle boxes?’ He swirled the wine around his glass. Experience told him the act in itself was enough to convince the casual observer he was drinking it.

  ‘As it happens, yes,’ she fired back. ‘Though I’ve no doubt they would be considered too geeky for someone who prefers the kind of X-rated pursuits that you do.’