by Nalini Singh
Cradling her bottom in his hands, he lifted her to his mouth, loving her through the damp material. Her cries urged him to lave pleasure upon pleasure as she lay spread out for his delectation. When she gave a tiny scream and started to shudder, he finally lifted his head, looking down at the lushness of her. He’d turned the satin and lace sheer, but even that silken shield was too much now.
His hunger was such that he almost tore them off, but at the last moment, he remembered that this was the fulfillment of a fantasy. “Take off your panties for me,” he whispered in her ear.
Dazed eyes met his. “Alexandre?”
He kissed her, rubbing his body against the length of hers, feeling her softness and her melting welcome. “Will you take them off for me?”
She barely nodded. He lifted off her and she reached down and moved her body just enough to slip the scrap of lace to her thighs. It seemed beyond her to push them down her legs.
He reached out and helped her until she lay naked and golden below him. Shuddering, he stroked her thighs. “If you didn’t look so satisfied lying there, I’d order you to finish undressing me,” he whispered, well aware that he’d never last if she took on the job.
Her eyes widened. She licked her lips. “I think my strength is coming back to me.”
“No touching this time.” He decided to save that torture for another loving. Moving off the bed, he stripped his pants and underwear off with brutal efficiency, aware of her eyes eating him up. She didn’t look away when he took care of protection, pure possession in her gaze.
When he settled back between her thighs, there was only welcome in every part of her, from her desire-blind eyes to her passion-warm body. “Shall I take you now?”
Her smile was slow. “You can do whatever you like.”
Groaning at the way she’d played their game to the end, he entered her in one solid stroke. Her body held him tight, all creamy heat and feminine invitation. Hands holding on to her hips, he moved in and out once before her legs locked around him.
“Legs down,” he managed to say hoarsely.
After a moment’s rebellion, she put her feet flat on the sheets once more. Adoring her for being the woman she was, he kissed her. Then, using his tongue to mimic the way his body slid and out of hers, he set a slow but powerful rhythm that succeeded in driving his woman to one more peak before his own climax took hold of him, savage and hot, like white lightning in his bloodstream.
Sometime before four that afternoon, a knock on the door had Charlotte snapping her head up from the kitchen table. “Thank goodness I finally got dressed,” she muttered. Taking off her apron, she closed the bedroom door, where Alexandre was dressing after their shower.
She’d escaped first, giggling from his unexpected playfulness under the streaming water. He’d only let her go after extracting a promise of hot coffee and food. Smiling at the memory, she opened the door.
It was Lara, one of the maids up at the estate house. She held out an envelope. “Came in special delivery, so I thought I should bring it down straight away.”
Charlotte forced herself to reply through the buzzing in her head. “Thanks, Lara.”
“You’re welcome.” The auburn-haired woman grinned and began to head back to her golf cart. “I better get back to help with dinner.”
Charlotte closed the door with trembling hands. She was still standing there staring at the envelope when Alexandre walked out of the bedroom, shirt hanging open over his chest. “Ma petite, what is it?”
“It’s from Nebraska’s vital records office.” Her voice sounded eerily calm, even to her own ears.
He nudged her toward the sofa and sat down beside her. Putting his arm around her, he held her as she gathered her thoughts and slit open the envelope. It was immediately clear that it contained only a single copied death certificate.
Heart pounding, she scanned the cover letter. “It apologizes for the delay—they had some trouble locating the certificates as I was unable to give them several required details. But, they’re happy to inform me that they were partially successful.
“Enclosed is the death certificate for David Ashton,” she read. “However, they’re unable to provide one for Mary Little Dove Ashton…they’re certain that no such record exists.” A sob caught in her throat.
Alexandre pulled her into a gentle hug. “That’s good news.”
“I’m afraid to hope,” she whispered. “What if they made a mistake?”
He didn’t point out that the lateness of the response indicated that the records office had tried hard to locate the certificate. “That should be easy enough to check. Let’s call the number they’ve given for further information.” He reached behind himself to pick up the cordless phone from the end table.
Charlotte nodded and accepted the phone. Taking a deep breath, she punched in the numbers. An efficient-sounding voice answered. When she told the operator what she needed, she was transferred to the person who’d done the original search. The man double-checked his files.
“Thanks.” A few minutes later she hung up the phone and looked at Alexandre. She couldn’t seem to stop trembling. “They didn’t make a mistake. There’s no death certificate for Mary Little Dove Ashton. The clerk even checked under just Little and Dove and Ashton.” The words were coming too fast. “If they died in the same accident and my father’s certificate is in Nebraska, shouldn’t my mother’s be as well?”
He tightened his embrace, leaving her only enough freedom to look up at him. “It would make sense that they would both be filed at the same place. So, it says that your father passed away at the hospital in…Kendall?”
She looked at the copy of the certificate again, as if the information might’ve changed. “Yes. Kendall General Hospital.” And suddenly, she knew what Alexandre was saying. “I need to go there. To be sure.”
“They might not give you the information.”
Her heart shattered at the tenderness in his expression. “We won’t need anything more from them than to know if my mother was discharged. I can prove I’m her child with my birth certificate, and if we say she disappeared, they might help us.”
Alexandre nodded. “With it being a small-town hospital, they might even know where she went.”
Hope leapt in Charlotte’s heart but she squelched it. “If she went anywhere at all.”
Thirteen
After they’d made the decision to go to Kendall, things moved at breakneck speed. By the end of the day, Alexandre had organized to charter a plane from Napa County Airport to Broken Bow Airport. A rental car would be waiting for them when they arrived in the central Nebraska town. Kendall was around an hour and half drive from Broken Bow and had no suitable airstrip.
Charlotte accepted his help with the organization since she had to juggle her schedule in order to clear the next two days. Given the speed of the sleek twin-engine jet Alexandre had chartered, the round-trip could be done in a day. However, she knew that whatever they found, she’d need at least a day to calm herself.
“We’ll leave at seven o’clock tomorrow morning,” Alexandre told her as they lay in bed that night. “The jet can get us to Nebraska in under three hours. If all goes well, we should be back here for dinner.”
“That plane—it’s very expensive, isn’t it?”
“Charlotte, I need to do this much for you.” His arm tightened. “I can’t change the past but I can help you find the truth. Don’t reject my gift.”
Her heart tumbled over. “How can I, after you said that? Thank you.”
Nestling closer to his warm body, she wrapped an arm around his chest, feeling a sharp ache at the sudden thought that far too soon she’d be sleeping alone in this bed. Alone with a broken heart and shattered dreams. Yet, if she had to do it over, she’d take the same road. Loving didn’t allow for easy choices.
“I guess we better get some sleep.” She knew he’d ascribe her subdued tone to the oncoming trip, but right now, that seemed like a distant dream. Her reality was
that soon she’d lose the man she loved. And there was nothing she could do. If all the beauties before her hadn’t been able to, what hope did she have of holding a man so emotionally scarred, he didn’t trust in love and loyalty?
“Are you sure you wish to rest, ma petite?” Alexandre’s voice caressed her in the darkness.
She felt a bittersweet smile curve her lips, aware he couldn’t see it in the unlit room. “Well, I could be persuaded into a little wakeful activity.”
For Charlotte, the early-morning trip to Nebraska passed by in a blur. Alexandre sat with her but didn’t attempt to draw her into conversation, as if aware that she needed the time to prepare herself.
When they arrived in Nebraska, she was struck by the dry heat, but her mind was too preoccupied to notice much else. Once they were on the road, her tension transmuted into a kind of nervous excitement that left her so jittery, she felt like she might shatter.
“Stop hurting so much, ma petite,” Alexandre ordered after half an hour.
“I can’t help it.”
He reached across and touched her cheek. Somehow, the simple contact made her feel better than a hundred words could have. For the rest of the drive, his small touches allowed her to gain a measure of peace.
And then they were in Kendall, the last known residence of Mary Little Dove Ashton. The hospital wasn’t hard to find, the orange brick facade standing out from a distance. Despite her attempt at curing herself of hope, Charlotte couldn’t help her thudding pulse and sweaty palms. Stepping out of the car, she closed her door just as Alexandre rounded the hood and took her hand in his.
“The moment of truth,” she whispered, staring ahead at the building that might just change her life.
“Come, ma chérie, let’s see what they have to tell us. Remember, I’m here with you.” Always.
Her heart heard the word he couldn’t say, haunted by his own demons. But as he was here for her now, she’d be there for him through the tough times. Sooner or later, Alexandre would begin to believe that not all women were fickle and manipulative.
Rebellion spouted inside her, deep and fierce.
Who said their relationship had to end the minute he left the estate? He seemed in no hurry to sever the threads binding them and she refused to let him walk out of her life without a fight. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
With those simple words, they walked the short distance to the hospital door and entered. The smell of antiseptic, the sound of a crying baby and the clean white walls hit Charlotte all at once.
Her father had died within these walls.
Somehow, she managed to keep herself together even as that thought whispered through her mind. They went straight to the reception desk manned by a young woman in a crisp nurse’s uniform. Her nametag read “Ann Johnson.”
“Can I help you?” The nurse glanced up.
“My name is Charlotte Ashton,” Charlotte began, taking strength from Alexandre’s presence. He didn’t try to take over this thing that she had to do, but she knew without a doubt that he’d never let her stumble. “My mother and father were admitted into this hospital almost twenty-two years ago. I was told that they both died.”
“I see.” Nurse Johnson’s eyes had widened and she was giving them her full attention.
“However, when I applied for death certificates, I was told that there was no record of my mother’s death.”
“How extraordinary. Perhaps there was a mix-up?”
Charlotte couldn’t quite pull off a smile. “That’s what I’m trying to find out. I need to see my mother’s record from all those years ago. Her name was Mary Little Dove Ashton.”
“We don’t really release that kind of thing.” The woman’s expression was sympathetic but firm.
“I have proof that she was my mother.” Charlotte slid her birth certificate across the counter. “And this is my father’s death certificate.”
The young nurse appeared undecided.
“Look, you don’t have to show us the file. Can you check and tell me if she died here? I just want to know if she…if she lived,” she finished softly, unaware how haunted her eyes looked at that moment.
The nurse stood and carefully examined both documents. Finally, she pushed them back at Charlotte. “It’s not really procedure but I can’t see the harm. Records that far back were never put into the computer system so I’ll have to go down to the basement.”
Turning, she paged someone over the intercom. “As soon as Jack arrives to man the desk, I’ll go down. Let me just copy down the date on your father’s death certificate—it’ll help me locate the files. I can’t promise I’ll find the information but I’ll try my best.”
“Thank you.” Charlotte couldn’t keep the feeling out of her voice. “Thank you so much.”
Alexandre’s arm slipped around her shoulders. “Where should we wait for you?” he asked Nurse Johnson.
The woman tucked a strand of blond hair behind her ear. “Just take a seat over there.” She pointed to the waiting area. It already had four occupants—an elderly man, a woman with a crying baby and a teenager with a cast on one leg.
Just then, a male nurse arrived to relieve Johnson. Alexandre led Charlotte away from the desk and toward the free chairs in the back of the room. Because of its small size, they remained in close proximity to the woman with the crying baby.
“Oh, hush, honey,” the mother coaxed. “The doctor will give you something to stop the hurt.” She looked over her shoulder at them. “I’m sorry but he’s—”
Alexandre interrupted her. “There’s no need for an apology, is there, Charlotte?”
Charlotte blinked awake from the almost trancelike state she’d drifted into. “No, of course not. I hope it’s nothing serious?”
“Allergies—nothing so bad, only he’s got a rash and the itching’s driving him crazy. But the doctor might’ve found something that’ll help.”
“I’m glad.”
“What’s his name?” Alexandre’s deep murmur seemed to reach the child, for he stopped crying and hiccupping, blue eyes curious. “Hello, little one.”
The mother was smiling in relief. “Oh, I should’ve thought of that—his father’s voice always calms him. Could you please just talk to him for a while?”
Instead of painfully waiting away the time it took for the nurse to find the files, Charlotte watched in delight as Alexandre revealed an aspect of himself that she never would’ve guessed. Not only was he willing to accommodate the mother’s request, he spoke to the baby with tenderness that betrayed a genuine liking for children.
When her turn to see the doctor arrived, the woman thanked them both. “You should have a few of your own,” she told Alexandre. “They’d be pretty as pictures what with her gorgeous skin and your eyes.” Laughing at Charlotte’s blush, she gathered up her things and left.
The feel of Alexandre’s knuckles rubbing her cheek had Charlotte turning. He was smiling at her. “Would you like to have my bébé, ma petite?”
“I’d like to be married first.” She teased him back despite her blush. “And we both know that’s not a likely option between the two of us.”
Until the stranger’s laughing advice, Charlotte had never even allowed herself to imagine a lifetime with Alexandre. She’d fight for whatever he could give her, fight for more than this month, but she had no hope that he’d be hers forever. No one could keep a man who didn’t want to commit, to entrust a woman with his heart. And she would never be happy with only half of him.
His eyes darkened. “Perhaps we should talk about—”
“Well, that didn’t take as long as I expected,” a cheerful voice announced.
Charlotte’s head jerked up toward Nurse Johnson as the woman took a seat beside her.
“The filing system’s very good down there.”
She wanted to tell the nurse to hurry but instead threaded her fingers through Alexandre’s and tried to stay calm.
“Let’s see.” Nurse Johnson opened the fil
e. Her eyes widened almost immediately. “It says here that Mary Ashton was injured in a car accident which killed her husband, but that she made a full recovery. She was released from this hospital a week after her admittance.”
Charlotte just heard the word “released.” Her whole body threatened to shake. “Th—thank you.”
“Do you have any contact details for her?” Alexandre asked.
“I’m sorry—we just have the address in Kendall. And I can tell you that she doesn’t live there anymore.” The nurse stood. “I hope you find her.”
Shocked, Charlotte just sat there after Ann Johnson left. Alexandre wrapped an arm around her. “Come, chérie.” Grateful for his strength, she leaned on him as he walked her out of the hospital and to the car.
He didn’t urge her to speak and it was only when they were driving out of the hospital that she said, “I never let myself think beyond finding out whether she’d lived or died. I never allowed myself to wonder why she gave us up when she loved us. I know she loved us. I remember!”
“Charlotte.” Alexandre pulled the car off to the side of what appeared to be the main street, and reached out to cup her cheek.
She let him comfort her. “It hurts to know that all this time, she was in the world. All the times I needed a mother, she existed, but she didn’t help me.”
“Couldn’t help you, ma petite. If what I’ve heard about Spencer is true, then he’s a man capable of doing something as terrible as stealing an unwilling woman’s children away from her.”
She wanted to believe him, couldn’t bear to think that her mother had walked away willingly. “Maybe. I only wish I knew where she was now.”
“Doesn’t look like things have changed much in this town over the years.”
Nonplussed by what appeared to be an unrelated comment, she focused on the street. Kendall was flat, like so much of Nebraska. Spring had given the land a touch of green and the occasional tree bloomed pink and white, but the town itself was without character, the buildings coated with decades of dust. “No.”