by Day Leclaire
By the time they parked in front of the cabin, the sky had turned nighttime dark. Luc hustled Téa inside and flicked on lights to dispel the gathering gloom. While he went in search of a flashlight or candles in case the storm knocked out the power, Téa checked her various cell phones and frowned. “What’s wrong?”
“No signal. I hope Madam and the girls aren’t worried.” She brightened. “Maybe they haven’t tried to call.”
He set out a sleeve of candles he found in one of the drawers in the kitchenette, along with a box of matches. “What do you suppose the odds are of that happening?”
Her hopeful mood vanished. “Zero to less than zero.” She released a sigh. “I need a drink.”
He opened the door to the small refrigerator. “You’re in luck. It would seem the honeymoon cabin also comes with a complimentary bottle of champagne. Are we cleared to drink, do you suppose?”
Téa checked her watch and nodded. “We’re just past the twenty-four-hour time frame we were given by the doctor.”
“Good enough.”
Luc pulled out the bottle and removed the foil and wire, before cautiously uncorking it. Digging through the cupboards, he unearthed a pair of Lucite flutes and poured them each a glass. Téa took a tentative swallow and wrinkled her nose at the explosion of bubbles.
“Surprisingly good,” she said with a hint of surprise. “Is it a California wine?”
“Yes. Carneros region.”
“That explains it.” She drank another couple sips, stalling. Then finally, said, “There’s something I need to tell you.”
“About Krendal?”
She waved that aside. “No. It’s about the night we were at Primo’s for Rafe’s birthday party.”
He wondered when they’d get back to that. “I gather you’re about to tell me the real reason you were so upset when we left. Why you suddenly decided to put all your focus on work and protecting your family.”
“Yes.” She spared him a speculative glance. “Sev never said anything to you?”
“No.” And Sev would pay for that small oversight. “What happened?”
“Your cousin warned me that there was a quality issue with our product.”
He took a moment to absorb that, to put it together with the information Juice had provided. “I gather that explains your confrontation on Monday with Conway.” Luc sampled the champagne, also approved it and topped off their glasses. “I can’t wait to hear his explanation.”
“He claimed it was all a huge error and he’d look into it.”
“And you bought that?”
She waved her glass at him. “Don’t be ridiculous. Of course I didn’t buy it. The man is as bad a liar as I am.”
Luc choked on a laugh. “Must run in the genes.”
“No doubt. Anyway, he insisted I stay out of it and even when I pointed out that I’d be right in the middle of the fiasco in five short weeks—about a month now—he told me that was fine. In five short weeks I could handle it. In the meantime, he was in charge and he’d get in touch with Sev. That I wasn’t to contact your cousin under any circumstances.”
“That’s when you came storming out and buried your nose in the spreadsheets.”
“There was something about them…” Her eyes glittered darkly in the deepening gloom. “Once I understood the underlying problem, I knew what to look for.”
“Your cousin has been cutting corners.”
She nodded. “And charging more for an inferior product. That’s what I didn’t catch in the accounting records. You see, the price we charge our customers has gone up, but when I looked more carefully, our manufacturing costs have actually dropped, despite the fact that our overall profit remains the same.”
Even without an accounting background, Luc could add that together to equal something was definitely fishy. “If your manufacturing costs have gone down, your cost to customers increased, the profit margin should have skyrocketed.”
“You would think,” she agreed. “And the bottom line would have skyrocketed if that profit hadn’t vanished into the cost of purchasing new equipment. On paper it appears legit.”
“Huh.”
She tilted her head to one side. “You look like a puzzle piece just fell into place.”
“It did. First tell me what Krendal said, and then I’ll explain.”
“Okay.” She helped herself to more champagne. “Douglas Krendal was the production manager of our manufacturing plant. He claims that Connie forced him out.”
“Because Krendal caught on to what Billings was doing,” Luc guessed.
“Yes. And he was rather vocal in his disapproval. He’d worked for my grandfather for years and was outraged that Connie wanted to cut corners by producing an inferior product.”
“So, Conway fired him.”
“Retired him,” she corrected with a shrug. “But, essentially, you’re right. He got rid of Douglas at the earliest opportunity.”
Luc hesitated, knowing the time had come to give her the rest of the bad news. He blew out a breath. “You’re not going to like this next part.”
She stilled, a look of intense vulnerability sweeping across her face. “Please tell me you’re not a secret operative for my cousin.”
The sheer unexpectedness of her comment provoked a laugh. “No, I’m not a spy,” he said tenderly. To his relief, his reassurance restored her confidence. “But I did ask a former associate to dig into your cousin’s background.” He grimaced. “It’s not good, Téa.”
She sank into a nearby chair. “Let me have it.”
“Essentially, he’s broke.”
Her mouth dropped open. “How is that possible? I happen to know what he makes running Bling and it’s a pretty penny.”
“Right, except he doesn’t receive a percentage of the profits from the company the way he would if he were the owner. He’s on salary with modest bonuses approved by the board. And he’s been funneling all available funds into this new start-up business he’s about to launch.” He allowed that to sink in before adding, “There’s more.”
“Of course there is,” she murmured.
“I think I know what he’s up to.”
“Is he embezzling?”
“Not funds.” He waited a beat. “Equipment.”
“The purchases he made with the profits.” She frowned. “I don’t understand. What does he want with the equipment?”
“This is sheer conjecture, but I’m pretty sure I’m right. I think he’s going to start up a competing business.” Téa inhaled sharply. “The poor quality merchandise—”
“—gets your customers angry. Makes them easier to steal away from Bling.” Luc downed the last of his champagne and set the glass aside. “Oh, he’s going to turn the family business over to you. He’s just going to make sure it’s nothing more than a shell when he does it. Then, when you’re on the verge of bankruptcy because you’ve lost all your customers to him—”
“—he comes sweeping in and offers to buy me out for pennies on the dollar,” she finished his sentence for him. “Connie’s new start-up company then takes over the Billings name and he has everything my grandfather didn’t leave him. The business, the name and all the money.”
“That’s what I suspect.”
“And I suspect you’re right.” She closed her eyes and thought about it. “The question is, what can I do to stop him? He’s had ages to set all this up. I still don’t take over for another four and a half weeks. He must know I’m close to figuring it out. Which means he has a full month to bring his plans to fruition while I watch helpless from the sidelines.”
“He doesn’t know you’re on to him, yet,” Luc attempted to reassure. “There’s still time to do something.”
Téa shook her head. “Not while he controls Bling. If I could just take over now…” She froze. Slowly her gaze shifted to fix on Luc. He didn’t care for the speculative gleam in her eyes. “There is a way I can do that.”
“Well, okay.” He snatched up his glass
, annoyed to find it empty. “Then do it.”
“I need your help to put my plan into action.”
A plan. Action. He was all over that. “You know I’m willing to do whatever I can.”
She smiled. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
For some reason, her expression worried him. It had turned calculating, filled with the same drive and determination he’d noticed the night of Rafe’s birthday party.
“I’m almost afraid to ask, but… What do you want me to do?”
“It’s quite simple, really. I want you to marry me.”
Luc stared at Téa in disbelief. “Excuse me?”
To her credit, she was smart enough to show a trace of nervousness. “You heard me.” She gulped champagne. “I want you to marry me. Temporarily, of course.”
“Oh, of course.”
She flinched at his sarcasm. “Luc—”
He cut her off without hesitation. “I believe we had this discussion already.” Anger ripped through him, accompanied by the first rumbling of the storm. “What part of ‘I’m never going to get married’ didn’t you understand? The ‘never’ part or the ‘married’?”
“Let me explain.” She approached, showing either an impressive amount of bravery or proving just how badly she’d misjudged his current mood. “There’s a clause in the will that says that if I marry I inherit Billings outright, so long as I’m over the age of twenty-one.”
“Outstanding. I wish you every success in finding someone to marry you.”
“I don’t think you understand.”
“I understand perfectly,” he snapped. “You’re the one who doesn’t understand. The answer, Ms. de Luca, is not just no, but hell no.”
“I’ll try not to be offended by that.” A matching anger flared to life in her eyes, while outside lightning flashed, causing the electricity to sputter. “Don’t you see that it’s the perfect solution? For both of us, Luc.”
He folded his arms across his chest. “Okay, this I have to hear. How is marrying you the perfect solution for me?”
“Your entire family believes we’ve been struck by The Inferno, right?”
“Unfortunately.”
“So, we give them what they want.” Thunder crashed overhead and she had to wait for it to die down before continuing. “We give them a wedding between Inferno soul mates. A couple months down the road…say six or seven…we inform everyone that it didn’t work out. We divorce.”
“Dantes don’t divorce.”
“Rafe did,” she retorted, stung.
“Technically he’s a widower.”
That stopped her. “Oh. I didn’t realize. I’m sorry.”
“You don’t need to apologize to me.”
She waved that aside. “We’re getting off track here.”
“I understand where you’re going with this, Téa. I recommend you let it go.”
Luc turned his back on her and crossed to stare out into the stormy darkness. A bolt of lightning streaked overhead, the reflection forking across the surface of the lake, while thunder boomed, the echo from it bouncing off the surrounding mountains. He could see the logic of her suggestion, just as he could see all the dangerous pitfalls along the way.
Pitfalls like the itch of The Inferno that would only grow stronger and burrow deeper with each additional day in her company. Pitfalls like having her in his bed and discovering he couldn’t bring himself to let her go. Pitfalls like pregnancy. Or love.
He could see her reflection mirrored in the glass of the French door, picked up on her tension from the set of her shoulders and the way she fiddled with her empty flute. Despite his anger, he still wanted her, could feel the unwelcome connection pulsating between them.
With a sigh, he turned to face her. “You think that if we marry, wait a reasonable amount of time and then claim it didn’t work out, my family will leave me alone. Stop forcing this nonsense about The Inferno down my throat. Is that your plan?”
She nodded eagerly. “Exactly. Since they believe I’m your Inferno bride, they won’t keep nagging you about marrying again.”
“No.” He folded his arms across his chest. “They’ll just keep nagging me about getting back together with you.”
“Oh.” She sighed. “I hadn’t thought of that.”
He smiled dryly at the bitter disappointment in her voice. “That’s because you don’t know my family.”
She was quick to regroup. “Well, when I marry for real that will put an end to it, won’t it? They’ll leave both of us alone.”
He stilled. “Marry for real?”
“It’s possible.” She lifted her chin. “More than possible. Because unlike you I’m not afraid of love. Seeing your family, seeing how happy the various couples are, it’s made me think. Maybe once my family is safe and financially secure I can fall in love and get married, too. Start a family like Kiley and Francesca.”
For an endless moment he couldn’t think straight. Couldn’t breathe. Images filled his head of Téa, heavy with a baby. His baby. And then the image shifted. Twisted. And suddenly it wasn’t his baby any longer, but another man’s. Her husband’s. A man who had the right to put his hands on her. To take her to his bed. To share every intimacy with her.
To give her a baby.
He heard a low snarl fill the room, barely aware it had been ripped from his throat. One minute he stood silhouetted by the pounding storm and the next he was across the room. He reached for her, swept her into his arms.
“Luc,” she gasped. “What are you doing.”
“You’re the one with all the answers. You figure it out.”
Luc reached the bed in fewer than a dozen limping steps and dropped Téa to the mattress. He followed her down, his mouth closing over the questions trembling on her lips. He had no memory of stripping off her clothes, of stripping away his own. Thunder crashed around them while lightning bleached the ebony from the night. He had a quick flash of Téa, a stunning palate of ivory splayed across a canvas of black. Only her hair and eyes offered any color, a spill of vibrant, fiery red, and a blue-green as deep and mysterious as the ocean.
The elements tore across the night, setting flame to the explosive passions trapped within the room. They came together, a clash of masculine and feminine that somehow found a melding point, a place where they joined with undeniable perfection and became one. Their bodies mated, moving to the rhythm of the storm, echoing its power and ferocity, giving no quarter and expecting none. They followed each other into the very heart of the tempest, riding it, driven by it to an exquisite climax.
Luc felt Téa peak, heard her cry of pleasure. That was all it took. He followed her up and over. He heard his name on her lips. Answered the cry with one of his own, with her name, the sound of it a stamp of possession. It grounded him as nothing else could have. Slowly the tumult calmed. And when it was finished, he gathered her close. Gently. Tenderly. Safe within the harbor of his arms.
She pressed close, twining herself around him until he couldn’t tell where she began and he ended. He simply held her, felt the steady beat of her heart filling his palm.
And he slept.
Téa woke the next morning feeling better than she had in her entire life. She had no idea what had gotten into Luc. He hadn’t given her much opportunity to ask. But she could only hope it happened again. And soon. She stretched, feeling the pull of well-worked muscles, along with the twinge of lingering bruises.
Luc stirred and groaned. “Is the hot tub still out there?”
She snuggled, finding his warmth, pleased when he dropped a powerful arm over her and tucked her in close. “It’s there unless it washed away in the storm.”
“Is it still raining?”
“I don’t hear anything. And I think that yellow stuff coming in through the drapes is sunshine.”
“Okay. Just this once I’ll let you carry me out to the hot tub. But only this once.”
“I’ll get right on that.” She paused. “Are we there, yet?”
“Very inconsiderate of me,” she said apologetically.
“I’ll say.” He escaped the bed and dragged her out, protesting all the way. “Come on. Let’s go soak before we pack up.”
“What about our robes?”
“Let them find their own hot tub.”
Moving quickly, they stripped off the cover and climbed into the tub, allowing the heat and swirling jets of water to ease sore muscles. Téa stirred, picking up on an odd noise coming from the interior of the cabin. “I think I hear something.” She sat up and craned her neck, thought better of it and ducked lower in the water. “What if it’s one of the staff members with our breakfast?” she whispered frantically.
Luc grinned. “Then someone’s going to be really embarrassed. And I’m willing to bet it won’t be me.”
She heard it then. Heard the voices coming closer. Voices that shouldn’t be here. She had a whole two seconds to stare wild-eyed at Luc before Madam stepped onto the deck, followed closely by Téa’s three stepsisters. Her grandmother’s distinctive voice cut across the peaceful serenity of the morning. “Madre del Dio! Girls, don’t look!”
But of course, they did.
Nine
Luc opened the door of the rental car and waited until Téa slid in before closing it. Then he limped around to the driver’s side and climbed behind the wheel. He didn’t start the engine.
“How did Madam find us?” he asked abruptly.
Téa answered readily enough. “Apparently the claims adjuster at my insurance agency called the house with a few more questions about the wrecked car. Madam took the call and then tried to get hold of me. When she couldn’t—remember the service went out?—she assumed the worst. That we’d been injured in the accident.” She rolled her eyes. “Though how I was well enough to call the insurance company but too badly injured to speak to her, I have no idea. Madam’s not always the most logical person in the world.” She paused. Flinched. “Oh, dear. I’ll bet she was remembering the night my parents died.”