LaCasse Family Series

by Ju Ephraime

  CHAPTER TWO

  Franchesca was glad the meeting was finally over. She was so wound up she needed to release some steam. One of the perks about working at Orange Europe was every conceivable amenity imaginable was provided free to the staff. The company built a state-of-the art fitness facility that was to die for. Where most gyms had an indoor track, theirs was outside, the dirt track surrounded by trees and water. She was looking forward to being outdoors. That was when she did her best work. She did her best thinking when she was running or walking outside. She loved the sounds of nature. She supposed it was something from her childhood on the island. Here, the sounds were different, no rooster crowing or the singsong dialect of the natives, but the landscape architects at Orange Europe made sure to construct a very peaceful and harmonious environment. They not only planted nice mature trees, but she could hear the chirping of birds and the croak of the occasional frog, see butterflies flitting about and lush green grass bordering the track, and the sound of running water from the nearby brook… was perfect!

  She took her leave from Marcella and went back into her office to change into a pair of sweats and running shoes. Closing the door behind her for privacy while she changed, she stopped for a moment to glance at her reflection in the mirror hanging behind her door. She had the mirror installed in a frivolous moment four years ago to celebrate her one-year anniversary on the job.

  Franchesca equated glancing at reflection in a mirror several times a day as being vain. She couldn’t help thinking about how much her life had changed from then to now. She ran her hands down the cream suit she was wearing, which showed off her long legs to perfection. She had a very athletic build—all legs, her legacy from growing up on the island with her brothers. She’d been told she could have very easily been a sprinter, but much as she enjoyed running, she was better at using her head in the lab.

  The outfit seemed to be molded to her body, hugging the curves and lines of her trim, but muscular, legs, hips, and breasts. She raised a hand to her head, flicking her fringe away from her face. Her hair was a fiery auburn color. Today, it cascaded over her shoulders in a silky fall every time she moved, but without her spending hours flat-ironing it, it grew into a mass of wild curls.

  Most people were fascinated by the color of her hair. She’d received this reaction all her life, so she was used to it. No one in her family could explain her hair color, but both she and her brother Foxx had inherited this shade of hair. They also both had green eyes, but hers were more hazel than green. Foxx’s were a deeper shade of green. She supposed it was a recessive gene or something. The funny thing was Foxx was a twin, and his twin, Wolfe, didn’t get the red hair, but she got it. Her hair required a lot of maintenance because she was always sweating from all the physically activities she was constantly engaged in. She brought her mind back to the task at hand, changing into her sweats. Moving away from the mirror, she hurriedly changed, and pulling on her visor to protect her face from the sun, she quickly made her way out of the building before anyone waylaid her.

  She breathed a deep sigh of appreciation when she was within sight of the track. She was surprised to find she was the only one out there this time of day. There were usually a couple other co-workers on the track releasing steam, but today, luck was with her. She didn’t have to make useless small talk, but could get right down to business.

  She could still experience the delight she’d felt when she’d first visited Nice. She had fallen in love with the place, and even after so many years, she still couldn’t get over its beauty and tranquility. She supposed having grown up in a similar surrounding; it was only to be expected that she would love the place, but Nice offered a tranquility that Martinique did not. The truth was each of the locations had a different pull for her. It was just that, of the two, she loved Nice more. She wouldn’t admit this in the presence of her family because they would view her as being unpatriotic.

  Franchesca enjoyed the smell of the olive-scented air, the perfume from the flowers, and the faint smell of the sea which was within a stone’s throw of the city's main seaside promenade, the Promenade des Anglais. That was another one of her favorite things in Nice, the Promenade des Anglais and, of course, the Riviera and the wonderful museums and historical sites. There were lots of interesting and exciting things to see and do in Nice, never a dull moment.

  Bringing her mind back to her surroundings, she walked over to her favorite tree, a tall olive tree, and did a few warm-up stretches in the shade of its wide branches. She completed her warm-up stretches, and then she was off. She loved running and being able to do so in such beautiful surroundings made her feel alive.

  She was on her third lap around the track when she saw that she was no longer alone. A man had joined her and was closing the gap between them, fast. A competitive runner, she was used to having to hold her own against her very athletic brothers, who were all into some form of competitive sports. , Except for Brian. He was the eldest and had left her parents’ home when she was little. As a result, she had very little memory of Brian. She’d always thought of Wolfe as the eldest. He was a champion swimmer, Foxx a professional soccer player, and Raymond was the runner in the family. Therefore, she felt she had to excel at something to hang out with them, especially Ray.

  So when she saw the male figure closing up on her, fast, she went into competitive mode and put on a burst of speed. But not having done this in a while, and maybe because she was getting on in age, she found herself getting winded and losing ground fast. Not wanting to be outdone, she closed her eyes and dug deep into her extra reserve, and then she felt herself falling. She tried to stop herself by trying to slow down, but with a scream, Franchesca landed on the ground.

  *****

  Twenty minutes earlier, Damon had concluded his meeting with Josh Turbine, the head of investment at Orange Europe. He was happy with the way things had gone at the meeting and equally happy to have Orange Europe in his portfolio of companies. The company had grown significantly since its inception ten years ago, and the way things were looking, it was posed to grow even more, if the innovations taking place in the medical industry was any indicator.

  He was feeling on top of the world. For one thing he always enjoyed this part of France. Nice was a good five hours away from Paris, where he had his office, but he’d always loved the south of France, and in his opinion, Nice was one of the nicest cities in France. He always felt a sense of homecoming every time he visited the place.

  Nice was located on the southeast coast of the country on the Mediterranean Sea, and the natural beauty of the area with its mild climate was, in his opinion, perfect. He always got inspired every time he visited Nice, and today was no exception. He was very optimistic about joining forces with Orange Europe. He could see nothing but a win-win situation all around from that association.

  An avid runner, and needing to let off some steam, he changed into his running gear, which he always carried with him in his vehicle. He never knew when the need to go for a run would come upon him, so he was always prepared. He was thankful Josh was so free with the use of the facility, and he had to admit he’d taken advantage of the excellent facility every time he visited. Something he’d been doing a lot of lately in an effort to convince Josh to throw in his lot with him. It appeared he had finally succeeded.

  It was with these thoughts occupying his mind that he took off running at his usual pace and attacked the track aggressively. As he got into his stride and settled at a pace he was comfortable with, he could see another runner up ahead. As he drew closer, he could make out the woman’s hair bouncing over her shoulders as she ran at a good pace. He had no doubt he’d be overtaking her soon. Just then she turned and saw him, and she put on a burst of speed, widening the distance between. But he didn’t have to increase his speed. He was soon almost abreast with her. The next thing he knew, a scream filled the air as the woman landed flat on her face on the track.

  Damon almost fell directly on top of the woman who was s
prawled directly in his path. He swerved quickly to avoid ending up on top of her. She appeared to be unconscious. She had not moved since she landed on the ground. He knelt beside her and felt for a pulse in her neck and was pleased to find it was beating quite rapidly. She was wearing a visor which was now practically covering her face.

  He wanted to move her, but he was reluctant to do so without knowing if she had broken anything. He kept applying slight pressure to her neck to get her to open her eyes. When that didn’t work, he began calling out to her softly to see if she could hear him.

  “Mademoiselle, miss,” he called—nothing. He had to try to bring her around.

  “Miss, mademoiselle,” he tried again, giving her a slight tap on the cheek. This time he was rewarded with a soft grunt.

  *****

  Franchesca awoke slowly, her brain taking a long time to function properly. She made a move to get up and then cried out as her body protested.

  A large hand cupped her face. “Easy, sweetheart,” came a deep, heavily accented English voice.

  Franchesca’s eyes snapped open, and she found herself staring into the steel gray eyes of the most handsome man she’d ever seen.

  She was a tall woman, but this man was huge. She couldn’t tell exactly how tall, but he appeared like a giant to her from her position on whatever hard surface she was currently lying on. His body crowded her in and made her feel petite, which she was not.

  She closed her eyes, just to be certain she was not dreaming. She’d been passing out a lot lately, mainly from exhaustion. She’d been trying to get as much of her work done as possible so she could free up some time to visit her family and attend her brother’s wedding. He’d never forgive her if she didn’t make it.

  Opening her eyes slowly again, she tried to take stock of her surroundings. There was the man again, blocking her light as he peered into her face. He was indeed a handsome man. His face was perfectly formed, with the dark hue of someone who spent a great deal of time in the outdoors. He had the longest lashes and the sexiest mouth she’d ever seen on a man. He had a wide mouth, with full, sensual lips, the top slightly fuller than the bottom. The flare of his nose should have broken up the perfection of his features, but it only served to emphasize the full top lip. She suddenly had an urge to feel that mouth doing unimaginable things to her, which caused her face to flush with heat.

  “You seem to be injured,” the stranger said. “Let me see.” He reached out to touch her at the same time he pulled out his phone and talked briefly to someone. She didn’t hear what he said. She was in too much pain in more ways than one to concentrate on anything.

  God, she did not want him touching her. She was already behaving like a lovesick schoolgirl. Who knew what she’d do if he was to touch her? She couldn’t risk finding out, and since he had addressed her in English, she decided to reply in kind.

  “I’m all right. Please, just move away so I can get some air.”

  “Non, ma chérie, you have to stay put,” he told her.

  “No,” she repeated. No one told her no, no one! He might be gorgeous and all that, but that did not give him the right to order her around.

  “Who are you that you think you have the right to tell me what to do?”

  She tried again to rise off of what she now realized was the hard ground of the office track. The effort to try to lift her head had her wincing in pain.

  Instantly, he applied pressure to her chest to get her to remain still. “Don’t move. I called for an ambulance; they should be here any minute.”

  “Why do I need an ambulance?”

  “You collapsed while jogging and were unconscious for several minutes. You were lucky I came along when I did. I’d just started my laps when I came upon you. I really think you should wait for the paramedics. You may have injured yourself.”

  He removed the cap he was wearing, and he ran his fingers through his hair. Her eyes were drawn to his hair. He had the palest blond hair color, almost white. It threw his dark features into sharper contrast, making it almost an oddity in a strange, exciting kind of way. Everything about this man was unusual. She itched to run her hand through his hair, to touch him.

  As if he read her thoughts, he gave her a brief smile, his eyes lighting up with humor as he looked at her quizzically. Do I have a wardrobe malfunction? She reached down to touch her shorts, but he was there before her, telling her to stay put. Her heart began to race as if she had just completed a 5K.

  She felt her face heating up. She was lying on the ground with a complete stranger leaning over her. For all she knew, her body might be exposed for his viewing pleasure, and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it. Every time she tried to move she couldn’t hold back the groans that came from the pain moving caused her. She believed she had indeed broken something.

  Sensing her discomfort, he removed his T-shirt and, bunching it up, placed it beneath her head.

  God, that felt better, but the body that was exposed to her view was enough to work like Novocain on her. She was no longer feeling any pain. What she was feeling was the heat that was now concentrated between her thighs. He had a body to match his features, sinfully delicious. Everywhere she cast her gaze were muscles, lean tight muscles, and she couldn’t help following the rows of the six-pack on his stomach down to the row of fuzzy hair that disappeared into his shorts. She couldn’t look any farther. She had to close her eyes.

  “Is it more painful with your head elevated, chérie?”

  She couldn’t answer; only a whimper came out. Where the hell are the paramedics? She was going to embarrass herself by grabbing his hand and directing it to just where her source of discomfort lay.

  Just then, she heard the siren of the ambulance. Thankful for the reprieve, she took a deep breath. “What is your name?” she asked.

  “Damon, Damon Dumont.”

  “It was nice meeting you, Damon Dumont. I’m Franchesca LaCasse.”

  “The pleasure was mine, Franchesca, all mine.”

  “You can take your shirt back now. I no longer need it,” she told him breathlessly.

  “No, you keep it. You may need it in the ambulance. You never know.”

  “But how will you get it back?” she asked.

  “Don’t trouble yourself. I’ll get it back when I’m good and ready.”

  He gave her that brief smile again, and then the paramedics were there. She was happy to let them take care of her because now that she was no longer fixated on Damon she was beginning to accept that she probably did injure herself in some way.

  When the paramedic removed her visor, which was the only thing holding her unruly hair in place, her hair tumbled crazily about her shoulders. As they began lifting her to move her to the stretcher, the pain became so unbearable she let out a scream, and instantly, she felt his touch.

  She would know that big hand anywhere. He had a way of touching her, big as his hands were, as if she was a fragile piece of china. He was brushing her hair off her face almost reverently. Feeling the touch on her face, she opened her eyes, slightly, just enough to look through her lashes, and was taken aback by the concentrated look on his face as he stared down at her, all the while caressing her hair with soft strokes.

  Had she not been in so much pain she would have told him to remove his hand from her hair, but she was in too much pain to care. Also, the delicious earthy scent from him was all around her. She wondered what it would be like to burrow her face against him and inhale deeply. The feeling was so overwhelming that she had to close her eyes to stop herself from acting upon it. The pain became even more excruciating as she was placed on the stretcher. Opening her eyes briefly because she might never see him again, she found herself looking into his amazing eyes. His worried face was the last thing she saw before she passed out.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Franchesca awoke to the sound of voices around her. She knew she was in the hospital because the smell of the antiseptic was very strong. She remained with her eyes closed a
s she tried to process the sounds around and to go over the set of events that brought her to the hospital. She knew she had been pushing herself too much lately. She had stopped taking her vitamins and eating properly. Most days, she grabbed a snack from the vending machine and never bothered to prepare a home-cooked meal. Come to think about it, she couldn’t recall the last time she went grocery shopping, let alone cooked a meal.

  She could blame her lack of interest in her health on the pressure of her job, but that wouldn’t be entirely true. She had lost interest in her life. It was as if she was killing time. Raymond’s upcoming wedding, so soon after he graduated, was the last nail in her coffin. She was older than Raymond. She’d never expected him to tie the knot and settle down before her. And the sad thing about it, there was no prospect on the horizon; she had not been on a date in so long she’d stopped keeping track.

  And when the most gorgeous man she’d ever set eyes on was in her sphere, what did she do? Fall flat on her face like an idiot. So much for wanting to impress a man which believe it or not, was what she had been trying to do when she’d first spotted the runner. She had put on a burst of speed, which her body, unfortunately, couldn’t handle, and the next thing she knew, she was falling. She felt her face flush with heat as she relived the incident. She hoped he didn’t think her a complete idiot. She didn’t know what she’d do if she ever ran into him again.