by Ruff, K. S.
I removed his hand as I tried to batten down the anger that was already brewing.
“I am sorry for deceiving you, ma chérie, but I didn’t see any other way. I was completely devastated when you refused to marry me. I wanted to work things out with you, to convince you to give me another chance, but I’m afraid my emotions got the best of me. Then you had that restraining order issued against me. I wasn’t supposed to be anywhere near you. I couldn’t stay away from you in Montana. So I came back here, to Paris, for a few months. I had already purchased this house for you. I signed the papers the same day I introduced you to my colleagues… the day you got angry with me for introducing you as my fiancé. Do you remember that day?”
“Yes. I remember,” I responded tightly.
“Don’t you see, mon coeur? I was already planning to propose. I was just waiting for New Year’s Eve because I wanted it to be special. My entire life, I have lived like this.” Michael waved his hand around the property. “No one but you has ever told me no. I wanted you to know how much I loved you. So I bought the ring, and the house, and two tickets to Boca Raton, never thinking for one minute that you would say no.”
“Boca Raton? That’s where you sent the postcard from, when I began working for Senator Rockefeller,” I interjected.
Michael nodded. “Yes. I have a house in Boca Raton. I purchased plane tickets so we could celebrate our engagement there. The jet was being refurbished. When you refused to marry me, I went alone, although I did delay the trip until after you moved to Virginia.”
I couldn’t resist interrupting again. “But, Michael, that would mean you purchased the house before our third date. Don’t you think that was a little early to be buying me a ring and a house? Can’t you see how that would scare me away?”
Michael sighed. “I couldn’t see past my love for you. I told you, I fell in love with you the first moment I saw you. It’s true, Kristine. I don’t know how I knew, but I did… and it’s not like I was some young kid who doesn’t know what love is. I was thirty-five years old when I first proposed to you. I dated a number of women before you, and not a single one of them made me feel like I couldn’t breathe without her.”
Regret nipped painfully at my heart. Michael hadn’t been able to see beyond his love for me, but I was stuck behind a wall of fear and distrust. Not once had I taken Michael’s feelings into consideration. Not once had I given Michael the benefit of the doubt. I had completely discounted his feelings for me and had assumed the worst about him at every turn.
Michael stared at the fountain. “This house was to be my wedding gift to you. I still had every intention of marrying you, so I spent some time here overseeing the renovations. I wanted to make sure the house was perfect. You know me well enough by now to know that I don’t do anything halfway. I flew back to Montana a few times so I could see you. I wanted to make sure you were okay. That’s when I learned you were awarded the fellowship in DC. The house was still being renovated, so I went to Boca Raton. Once the house was finished, I was going to fly to DC to convince you to give me a second chance; but pulling the house together took longer than I expected. I was worried about you being alone in DC, so I sent Rafael to watch over you while I managed things here.”
My eyes widened in disbelief. “Rafael was watching me in DC?”
Michael nodded. “That’s how I learned you had been kidnapped. That night you went into work late, Rafael followed you to the office. Once he made sure you were safely inside the building, he sat outside and waited for you to leave. He watched you walk to the parking garage. When you entered the building, he drove to the back of the garage so he could follow you when you came out. He wanted to make sure you made it home safe. He didn’t know your tires had been slashed. When you took too long to drive out of the garage, he ran inside to look for you, but you were already gone. I flew back to the states as soon as I heard. We were trying to find you, but your soldier beat us to it.”
I blinked back tears as memories of the abduction bit at me.
Michael’s eyes grew sad. “I was so afraid you were hurt. I felt so helpless. I wanted to see you… to hold you… to make sure you were okay the second you returned to DC, but you were never alone, and I didn’t want to screw up another chance to work things out with you. I was concerned that the kidnapping would only make you more afraid of me. So I stayed in DC, and I waited. I waited for you to heal.”
Michael rose from the bench. “I’m not proud of it, but I did follow you to the Bahamas. I couldn’t bear to have you out of my sight. I was insanely jealous of this soldier of yours. It killed me to see him kiss you. I should have been the one protecting you, the one helping you heal, and the one who made you smile when you wanted to cry. When I saw the two of you together in the Bahamas, I realized I was running out of time.”
Michael stood staring at the fountain with his back turned to me. “Still, you were never alone. I could never seem to find a good time to approach you. I knew your soldier went to work early at the Pentagon. So that morning, when the news broke about the car bombs, I saw an opportunity to force your hand. I knew I had to convince you that I was responsible for planting the bombs, otherwise you wouldn’t come with me. The phone I showed you that morning was simply a disposable phone. I bought it off a day laborer, who was sitting outside a convenience store near your apartment.”
“You didn’t plant the car bombs at the Pentagon?” I asked incredulously.
He walked back to the bench and knelt down in front of me. “No. I hadn’t a clue who planted the bombs. I heard the news on the radio when I was driving to your place. After you were kidnapped, Rafael and I took turns following you to and from work. I wanted to ensure you made it okay. I couldn’t bear the thought of anything more happening to you. As far as the car bombs go, the U.S. government issued some press releases about two months ago that linked them to an anti-government extremist group. I can show you the news reports if you would like.”
I stared slack-jawed at Michael. “Americans planted the bombs at the Pentagon?”
Michael nodded.
I shook my head. I was relieved Michael hadn’t planted the bombs, but there was something about his story that still didn’t add up. “What about investing and washing money for terrorists in Portugal?” I finally asked.
“That is partially true. When I initially applied for a position as a financial analyst with this investment firm in Lisbon, they had a very good reputation. I had to prove my worth managing hedge funds, so I wasn’t assigned to those particular clients that first year. I had no idea the firm was investing money for a terrorist organization. I am very good at what I do, so after I worked there for a year, the general partners shifted some of those accounts my way. I grew suspicious when I learned the firm was laundering money for these clients. I asked Rafael to investigate. When he discovered these clients were connected to a terrorist organization, I left the firm and reported the partners to the authorities.”
“But the newspapers said you were being investigated…”
Michael sighed. “That press release was issued for my own protection. The Lisbon authorities were concerned I would end up dead if the general partners discovered that I was the one who reported them. By listing me as one of the suspects, they were protecting me. I told you before. You don’t just walk away from people like that. That’s why I went to live in Montana for a while. The authorities encouraged me to disappear until all of the people involved were incarcerated. Montana was the most obscure place I could think of.”
Michael slid next to me on the bench. He looked completely exhausted. “Mon coeur, what you need to understand before you marry me is that two of the general partners managed to escape prosecution. They are still missing. I’m sure they have their suspicions about me, which is why I have all of this security… not to mention the fact that the terrorists could discover I was the one who destroyed their money laundering operation. They lost billions when those accounts were frozen.”
He gr
asped my face. “Kristine, do you understand? By falling in love with you, I have put you in grave danger. If they come for me, they will hurt you. This is why Rafael behaved the way that he did when he forced you into the safe room.”
I pulled his hands away. I needed to process what he said, and I couldn’t do it while looking at him. I forced my eyes from his face as I rose from the bench. I walked up to the fountain. I shivered, then hugged my chest as I watched the water churn around the lovers’ feet. Slowly, I tried to fit each piece of information into the right box.
First, the terrorist box. Michael wasn’t connected to the car bombs at the Pentagon; he didn’t knowingly invest funds for terrorists; he quit the firm when he learned they were involved with terrorists; he reported the firm and the terrorists to the government of Portugal; and he risked his life to shut the operation down. I glanced over my shoulder at Michael. He looked wrecked. This spoke volumes about Michael’s character and his integrity. He was an honorable man, not a criminal.
I turned back around to face the fountain. My eyes lingered on the sculpture. Now for the Kri and Michael box. Michael had loved me from the very beginning. I refused to let him prove it. He tried to make me happy… he proposed, he offered me a ring, he planned an engagement trip, he bought a house he thought I’d like, he stocked the house with things he knew would comfort me, and he gave me time to heal from the abduction even though it was painful for him to do so. Michael had also tried to keep me safe. He sent Rafael to watch over me, and he searched for me when Justin kidnapped me. So, what had he done wrong? Michael manipulated me and Mickey when he feared he was losing me to Kadyn. I sighed heavily. Being manipulative was the only real strike against him.
Michael walked up behind me. He rubbed my arms before wrapping his arms around me. I could feel the tears on his cheek as he pressed his face to mine. “I don’t want to add more fear and pain to your life; but, Kristine, I have tried to live without you. I… I just can’t. Can you still love me? Can you still marry me, knowing all of the risks?”
Fear crept through my veins and chilled my blood. Still, my heart thumped a painful objection at the thought of walking away. I sighed as I relaxed into Michael’s arms. “Michael, everything you have told me has only made me love you more. I can’t bear to be parted from you anymore than you can stand to be separated from me. I won’t lie, Michael. I’m terrified. I’m terrified of what they might do to you… terrified you might not be here one morning when I wake up… and I’m terrified of what they would do to me or any children we might have.”
Tears slid down my face. “I have spent my entire adult life living in fear. Fear has stolen years from me, but I’m done being robbed. I won’t allow fear to control me anymore. I love you, Michael. I love you enough to overcome this fear.”
Michael didn’t respond. He couldn’t respond.
I caressed his cheek. “We can do this, Michael. We can find a way to work through these fears together.”
Michael nodded. His lips brushed over my neck.
I looked back up at the sculpture and marveled at how closely it reflected us in this moment. “Can we go upstairs, mon chérie? I’m really tired, and I’d like to eat something before I lie down.”
Michael turned me around. He held my face in his hands as he gently kissed me. “Of course, mon amour. I’d like to lie down with you and hold you for a while if that’s okay.”
As we walked back to the house, I thought about how my feelings toward Michael had changed with his confession. I was already deeply in love with him, but the threats we were facing added a layer of desperation to that love… the kind of desperation that comes with knowing your days together might be numbered.
* * * * * *
The next morning, Michael lie next to me in bed, lightly running his finger down my forehead, nose, and chin, then around each temple and cheekbone. I watched him as he watched his finger trail over my face.
“I think I know how we might be able to fix some of my mistakes,” he murmured as his fingers repeated their previous path.
“Oh? And which mistakes would those be?” I asked tentatively.
Michael’s finger stopped tracing my face. “Taking you from your family and threatening the office manager.”
I propped myself up on my elbow and gave Michael my full attention.
Michael’s brows furrowed as he considered the merits of his plan. “What if I send Rafael to smooth things over with the office manager? You said her name is Mickey?”
“Yes...” I admitted hesitantly. I wasn’t sure I liked where this plan was heading.
“What if Rafael goes to her and explains the situation, extends my apologies, and offers some support or assistance to make up for what happened?”
I frowned. “Shouldn’t you be the one apologizing?”
Michael shook his head. “She would be too afraid to listen if she saw me.”
My eyes narrowed skeptically. “What kind of assistance would you be offering?”
Michael shrugged. “Therapy if she needs it. If she doesn’t, then maybe there is some other way I can help her, like setting up an education fund.”
My frown deepened. “Isn’t that considered bribery? You’re offering money so she’ll drop the charges.”
Michael ran his finger over my forehead as he tried to smooth the worry lines away. “I don’t know. There is a fine line between gifts and bribery. If Rafael can convince her that I regret what I did to her, that I haven’t hurt you, that I love you, that you love me, and we are happy together; that information alone might be enough for her to drop the charges, especially since I didn’t hurt her. The financial assistance would simply be a form of remediation.”
“I suppose that’s possible,” I conceded. “So how do we let my family know I’m okay and convince them that I truly want to be here with you?”
“You can write letters to your friends and family. To be on the safe side, we’ll have Rafael mail them from the states, so they can’t be traced back here. Then you can follow up with a phone call from another burn phone. Eventually, I can fly them here, or we can travel to Montana to see them.”
I linked hands with Michael. “Aren’t you worried about going back to the states? There may be criminal charges pending against you. I don’t want you to end up in prison.”
“That will require a bit more work,” he admitted. “My efforts to defund a terrorist organization may help. The Lisbon authorities are going to want to ensure my availability to testify when they track down the missing partners, in the event those individuals don’t accept a plea agreement and force the matter to trial. If I have my contacts within the Portuguese government reach out to the U.S. government, then perhaps we can get the charges dropped, especially if you sign a statement or a written affidavit that confirms you are here willingly.”
I turned his plan over in my head. “You know, Michael… that just might work.” A smile spread slowly across my face as I dared hope for a future that included Michael and my family.
Michael kissed me on the cheek. “Why don’t you work on your letters while I talk to Rafael and make the necessary phone calls? Would you like to use stationary or a laptop to write the letters?”
I ran my fingers through his hair. “I think my family would find more comfort in a hand written letter.”
He smiled. “Very well, then. I’ll have some stationary sent up for you.” He reached for his cell phone. “How is your stomach, ma chérie? Are you up for breakfast? Would you like to try some coffee?”
I silently assessed my stomach. I didn’t feel the least bit nauseous. “Breakfast sounds good. No coffee, though. The mint and lavender tea is kind of growing on me.”
He shot me a look that suggested I had sprouted two heads. He sent a quick text to the cook, tossed the cell phone on the bed, leaned over, and kissed me quite thoroughly. “So, mon coeur, assuming we can straighten everything out, where would you like to be married?”
I flopped back against the pillows. “
I don’t know. What kind of timeline do you think we’re looking at? Who would you want to be there?”
Michael smiled as he sat next to me on the bed. “I would marry you tomorrow, ma chérie, if I thought you would agree to it, but we need some time to work things out so your family can be there. I won’t invite many guests. I would prefer to keep it small so the wedding doesn’t make the news. I don’t want the wrong people knowing you have married me. That would only endanger you further. The timing would also depend on whether you want an indoor or outdoor wedding. It’s already October.”
I quietly considered the options.
Michael broke the silence. “What about Notre Dame?”
I shook my head. “That cathedral is too big for a small wedding. My two favorite places in France have been Giverny and the Palais Garnier. Would either of those two places be an option?”
Michael’s smile widened, just as the cook slipped our breakfast tray onto the table by the fireplace. “Anything you could dream would be an option.”
I sat up. “Well, if we have a winter wedding, I would like to get married in the main foyer of the Palais Garnier. There is just something about that staircase. If we have a spring or summer wedding, then I would prefer to be married in the gardens at Giverny.”
Michael stood and pulled me out of bed. He folded me gently in his arms, then kissed the top of my head. “Why don’t we have the wedding on Christmas Eve on the grand staircase at the Palais Garnier?”
My heart thrummed its agreement. “That sounds perfect, mon chérie. Do you really think we could organize it that quickly? What are the odds the opera house would be available on such short notice?”
Michael laughed a loud boisterous laugh. “Mon coeur, you really have no clue who you are marrying do you?” He patted me on the bottom as we walked over to the breakfast tray. “I will make the necessary arrangements. The only thing you need to worry about is picking out the dress and writing those letters to your friends and family.”
* * * * * *
Michael walked into the library. His personal assistant, Devry, trailed behind him with some paperwork. Michael stooped over my chair and kissed me on both cheeks. “How are your letters coming along, mon amour?”