Mara dressed in shorts and a vest top from her suitcase refusing to unpack. She had no intention of staying. A little while later Maxine entered the room and the door was shut behind her. Maxine turned to hear the key turn in the lock and looked fearfully at Mara who was already on her feet rushing to try the handle. It only proved what she already knew.
“Mara, what are we going to do?’ Maxine asked tearfully.
She put a comforting arm around her shoulders and gave them a squeeze.
“I don’t know. I don’t understand what is going on. That pompous fool won’t tell me anything. He is so vague about everything.”
Maxine pulled away and sat on the bed caressing the silk with her hand as she traced it back and forth in a soothing motion.
“I need a cigarette.”
She opened the elegant silver cigarette box she took out of her trouser pocket and hurriedly inserted a cigarette between her lips and lit it. A second later she released the smoke from her lungs and sighed with welcome relief.
Mara grimaced. She thought of cigarettes as drugs and couldn’t help feeling angry that her beautiful room would probably smell of stale smoke later.
“I thought you had given up,’” she reprimanded opening a window.
“I tried for three months. I was doing really well but then Paul left me. You know how upset I was and I needed something to keep me sane.”
Maxine quickly changed the subject obviously eager for the conversation not to erupt into an argument.
“Are you all right, Mara? I was really worried when you fainted last night. Have things been getting to you after Ryan left?’
“Not so much. According to my doctor it’s overwork. I am over Ryan. He had an affair. He had many affairs. Never mind that anyway, we have to think of a way to get out of here before Stephane decides to stop being so courteous.”
“I can’t believe this is happening. He can’t just kidnap us.”
Maxine ran a manicured hand through the platinum tousled hair that hung around her shoulders unaccustomed to its freedom.
“Well he has and he has been evading every question I ask. Are we somewhere along the Loire?” Maraasked.
‘Taking a look at this place most definitely. I saw a signs for Tours last night, we must be somewhere past there.”
Maxine’s French accent was thick. She took another puff of the cigarette and moved to the window.
“You have to admit though it isn’t a bad place to be kidnapped,” she added.
“No, it’s lovely. I would love to live in this place.”
Maxine’s green eyes lit up and a sly smile lifted the corners of her mouth. It was a smile that Mara knew only too well. It meant trouble. Maxine had suspicions about her and was usually right.
“I don’t think you want to get out of here, Mara. Stephane Garreau is very handsome, rich and powerful and he appears to have, how do you English say it? Taken a shine to you.”
“What do you mean?” Mara asked in an innocent voice but she knew exactly what Maxine was referring to.
Maxine wasn’t to be fooled. She had known Mara since they were teenagers when her father had been an assistant to the French Ambassador in England. She could read Mara like a book.
“Oh come on, forget trying to appear innocent. You must have noticed how he couldn’t take his eyes off you last night and what about you? You weren’t much better. I…’
Mara felt herself color and grow hot by the insinuation that she was attracted to her kidnapper. She cut Maxine off in mid flow, quick to dispel her ideas.
“If you think I have fallen for a man who is holding me prisoner you are very much mistaken.”
“But what about your dream as a petite fille that you wanted Mr Right to whisk you off to his castle where you would live happily ever after. Maybe your dream is coming true,” Maxine cruelly teased.
Mara threw her a look that could have killed.
“A stupid nine year old’s dream. I am an independent woman with a career. I have no need for men and the baggage they carry around with them.”
“Ryan has hurt you. It’s bound to leave a scar and make you a little bitter. But attraction and love can’t be ignored. No matter how hard you try,” Maxine grinned amused by own words.
“I have a very successful career and I am happy with that. I don’t want a man to ruin it and take it away from me so I can be his slave in marriage.”
Mara’s voice shook with determination but was choking with pain. Maxine shook her head believing it unwise to push the matter any further.
“Ok as long as you are happy with that. I see you are still wearing your engagement ring, Mara.”
Mara looked down at her hand.
“I don’t know why. I suppose I never had an opportunity to give it back to him.” She paused. “No that’s a lie. I had plenty of time, I suppose a part of me didn’t want to let go of what could have been.”
Her sentence finished with an unexpected sob. Mara sat down on the bed angry with herself for crying. She didn’t allow herself to get upset anymore. It was over. Mara dried her eyes and studied the cluster of diamonds around a solitary sapphire and then in fury threw it across the room.
‘I hate him,’ she screamed.
Maxine put her arm around her friend. She didn’t know quite how to act. It was usually Maxine breaking down over the departure of her latest boyfriend with Mara there picking up the pieces. Maxine stood from the bed and picked up the ring. Without further hesitation she took it to the open window and vigorously threw it out into the air. She didn’t watch it land. It would land in the moat. Mara found herself lunging forward to stop her and then halted. Throwing the ring away was like throwing away part of her life but one she had to end. She remained silent as Maxine closed the window on her memories.
Evening approached and Maxine was allowed to return to her room to get dressed for dinner. Mara was tempted to make an entrance in her shorts and spoil the evening but thought it best not to antagonize Stephane. She dressed elegantly in a plain cream silk dress. It tied around her neck in a halter to pour over her breasts, molding them into perfect shape against her chest, creating a tantalizing v shape that dipped between her cleavage.
She combed her hair frowning in the mirror at her skin that even looked pale under her light tan. The situation with Stephane was doing nothing to help stress she was already under. She opened the gold locket around her neck that contained the pictures of her father and mother and brother Peter. If only Peter was there he would know what to do. She closed it, he wasn’t there and it was something she would have to deal with on her own. Her reflection stared back, the effect stunning but she still wasn’t happy and began to maniacally comb her hair once again.
Maxine’s parting words echoed in her mind. She was right. They had to do whatever was necessary to get out of the house and away from the billionaire. It was very likely that Ryan would fail to come through and they didn’t know how Stephane would react.
Maxine wanted Mara to use her attraction between her and Stephane to their advantage, even if it meant making love to him. Who was she trying to kid? She had only ever slept with one man. Mara was convinced she lacked the confidence to pull it off. The only man she had ever known intimately was Ryan.
Their relationship had started in University and they had become inseparable. But time and time again he prolonged their engagement, insisting that money was the problem and why didn’t they wait until they were more established in their careers, and like a fool she had believed him. Most of her twenties had been spent waiting for Ryan and now she was in the beginnings of her thirties and felt more than ready for marriage had she wanted to admit it. She made a face in the mirror remembering how she had caught Ryan making love to his secretary, lying backwards over his desk, Ryan between her damp thighs, moaning as he took a breast between his teeth.
She had forgiven him of course, that first time. But anger was a strong emotion and Ryan had filled her to the brim with its hunger. She was
dammed if she was ever going to let another man make a fool out of her or let him have what he wanted for free. If she slept with any man it would be on her terms and when she decided. She would just have to find some other way to get at Stephane.
Mara rechecked her hair and dabbed a gentle musk perfume to her wrists and the nape of her neck before going to find Maxine.
Maxine was a sharp contrast with a short pale green dress that brought out the fiery color of her emerald eyes and flattered the long slim legs beneath.
“Mara, you look beautiful. Come and meet Leon.”
Mara eyed her quizzically and followed her along the hall. She watched Maxine link arms with the handsome fair headed man who’d held her in such a tight grip the night before and whose nose she had tried to break with a punch. She was satisfied to see that there was slight bruising along its ridge.
“Leon, you know, Mara,” Maxine cooed forgetting the situation.
“How could I forget,” he sneered then smiled.
Maxine winked at Mara making her groan inwardly. She had made another conquest. Mara followed them down the stairs to see the billionaire waiting for them dressed in a tuxedo like Leon. He was giving her the same powerful stare that he had the night before. She found her heart beginning to beat faster and her body grow warm. Too warm. Alarmed by the reaction that he always seemed to provoke in her when he was near, she moved her eyes frantically away trying to rest on an object, anything to help her keep control.
“Mara, you are looking very beautiful tonight,’ he told her softly taking her arm.
She forced herself to look at him and frowned.
“Really?” she mocked believing he was being sarcastic.
“Don’t frown,” he said dominantly cupping her chin to lift her face.
She stared into the ice blue pools and found herself paralyzed as though he were a magician hypnotizing her mind.
‘Hasn’t Ryan ever praised your appearance, you act as though he never has. What is that scent you are wearing?’
He moved close, bending his head to the side of her neck and then to the cleft of her breasts. Her heart beat a staccato rhythm and she was sure she was going to lose her footing on the stairs if he came any closer, or even worse her common sense. But that was what he was counting on she mused.
“It’s called Scarlett,” she said backing away her voice a little shaky.
He stood straight again, a smile of amusement lining his lips, creasing his handsome face. He lifted her hand and turned it over to bring her wrist to his nose. She looked at her hand, so small and delicate in his larger male palm.
‘The scent is perfect for you.”
He ran a thumb over the pulse point on her wrist in a moving circle as if the action was natural, watching her breathing hasten into little gasps and her eyes glaze with moisture. She was transfixed, ensnared in his trap and now all he had to do was to reel her in. He lifted the wrist to bring it to his lips to prolong the agony but she surprised him and snatched it back, her features turning hard with resolve.
The billionaire caught her arm again as she passed just to remind her of his domination in their struggle. His sudden tense features betraying his frustration that she had rebuked his advance. He led her to the dining room.
They walked through a string of rooms within rooms and finally reached the dining area. Stephane guided her to the large antique mahogany table. The centre piece of the room and pulled out a high backed chair covered in cream velvet. The room was decorated with Flemish tapestries dating back to the 16th century displaying scenes of castle life. Apart from the silver chandelier and the large Renaissance fireplace sculpted in heavy white stone and gold leaf, there was not much else in the room.
Stephane sat down at the head of the table seating her next to him at his side. He said nothing patiently waiting for the rest of the household to enter and sit. Not long after, an older woman entered and the male contingent rose with deep respect including Stephane. The display was reverent and Mara could only guess that she was the billionaire’s mother. She sat down facing Stephane at the other end of the table and the men obediently took their seats once again.
“Mara, I would like to introduce you to my mother. Mammon, this is Mara Logan and Maxine Villeneuve.”
The older woman nodded.
“I am pleased to meet you. I trust your stay has been…” she paused to rethink her words. “Comfortable so far.”
Mara felt her eyebrows prickle and raise. The woman was treating her like a guest. The whole family was insane.
“I beg your pardon, Madame, but I am not here on holiday. We have been brought here against our will by your son because he mistakenly believes I am involved in a plot to deprive your daughter of her inheritance.”
Her voice was clear, collected and authoritative.
“Yes.”
A demure smile cracked Chantal Garreau’s finely wrinkled mouth. She folded her worn hands in front of her as she watched the butler pour her a glass of mineral water.
“Unfortunately we had no choice. And I don’t think a mistake has been made.”
The voice was equally authoritative and it was clear she would prove a formidable opponent. Cold grey eyes stared back at Mara. The woman’s silver hair was cut into an old fashioned bob. Not a hair moved from its place. Her nails were blood red, no doubt from the victims she had thrashed with her tongue and were bright against a pea green flowing dress.
“So you are part of this?” Mara demanded.
The woman glanced at her son who was watching Mara intently with heavy concern. She didn’t like Mara. The evidence was clear on her pinched features. Nor did she like the attention her son was paying the young woman.
“Yes I am,” she said lazily. “In fact it was my idea.”
‘Well you may be good enough to tell me more. Where has Ryan taken her? I hear she is ill . . . Whatever Ryan has done it isn’t any excuse for kidnapping. He should be dealt with by the law.”
Mara stood to give the final point of her speech and allowed her voice to rise, causing the room to fall silent.
“Madame, if you do not allow us to leave immediately, I am going to ensure that both your son and yourself will be prosecuted. That will mean a prison sentence and at your time of life Madame, I do not believe that will be of any help.”
Triumphant at her declaration, Mara gave the floor to her opponent.
Stephane coolly tasted the wine that was to be served that evening, watching the spectacle before him with interest. Not once did he interfere appearing to enjoy watching Mara and the movement of her body as she spoke. They were like two gladiators in a crowded auditorium. Mara was holding court again as she had done the night before and was quite impressive, a worthy adversary for his mother who could more than hold her own in an argument.
Chantal Garreau rose to her feet like a queen regally descending her throne to deliver a rebuke.
“I don’t think you are in a position to do anything Miss Logan are you? Your precious fiancé has run away with my nineteen year old daughter who should have known better than to involve herself with a man like him. He is arranging to marry her under false pretenses. And that’s not surprising since she is about to inherit a large estate from her uncle on her 20th birthday in one months time.”
She held up her hand to prevent Mara from interrupting.
“That isn’t the worst of it,” she spat. “Louise has recently had medical tests conducted for bad headaches she has been experiencing…” Chantal stopped, hesitating and then regained her composure. “She has a brain tumor and if we don’t find her soon so she can have the operation she needs, she will die just like her father, Mademoiselle. Ryan is more than aware of this and we know he is going to make sure she doesn’t get it. He has convinced her she does not need it and he can get her different treatment that doesn’t require surgery.”
Chantal shook with her anger.
“He is keeping her hidden from us and is waiting for her to die so he can claim her
inheritance when it passes to him through marriage and watch her die. We know he is still in love with you and when he has the money he will return to your relationship. Because Louise went of her own accord the police will not help us. I am prepared to allow Stephane to do whatever it takes to bring my daughter back and save her life.”
Mara stared at the woman.
“And you think I am involved and part of Ryan’s plan?” Astonishment and hurt lined Mara’s quiet tone.
“I don’t think I know.”
Tears gathered in Mara’s eyes.
“If she dies I will make sure you suffer . . .”
“Mammon, s’il vous plait,” Stephane intervened. “Enough.”
The Art of Retaliation Page 3