Awaken the Senses

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Awaken the Senses Page 16

by Nalini Singh


  She smiled at his impatience, but before she could answer, Detective Ryland interrupted. “Where were you last night, Mr….?”

  “Dupree, Alexandre Dupree.” Alexandre glanced at the open doorway to Spencer’s office. “And I was with Charlotte last night. The hotel staff will verify that.”

  Something flared in Charlotte’s brain. “We ordered room service and then there was that fax that got delivered to us by mistake after we’d gone to sleep.”

  “Oui. Several people can attest to our presence at the hotel for the entire night.”

  Detective Ryland closed his notebook and said, “You’re free to go for now, but we may have further questions for you at a later date. In case you haven’t guessed, Mr. Dupree, we’re investigating a serious crime—the murder of Spencer Ashton. I’d appreciate your cooperation.”

  “You can reach us at the Ashton Estate, with the rest of the Ashton family,” Alexandre answered.

  The detective nodded. “Please don’t contact anyone else about this—we’ll take care of that.”

  Charlotte had been thinking about calling Walker. “When will you…?”

  “Don’t worry. It’ll be very soon.” With that, they moved onto Kerry, standing only a foot or so away.

  “Who is that?” Alexandre asked, his tone low.

  “Kerry, Spencer’s admin. Let’s wait and take her with us when we go—she might not want to be alone.” She blinked as something Kerry was saying caught her attention.

  “…they were arguing. It sounded ugly—I could hear them through the office walls.”

  Detective Ryland’s whole posture changed. “That’s Grant Ashton?”

  “Yes.” Kerry nodded, violet eyes looking bruised in her pale face. “According to my schedule, he was Spencer’s last appointment for the day. But, he can’t have done that.” Her voice trembled at the end.

  “Why?” Detective Holbrook asked, her tone softer than her more abrasive partner’s.

  Kerry looked at the woman. “Well, Spencer was still alive when Grant left.”

  Detective Ryland wrote that down but the look of intense interest on his face didn’t fade. “Was Grant Ashton calm when he left?”

  “N-no. He was pretty angry—furious…”

  The noise of several technicians leaving Spencer’s office drowned out the rest of the interview. Alexandre leaned down to whisper in Charlotte’s ear. “Grant?”

  “He’s Spencer’s eldest son from his first marriage.” The implications of what Kerry had revealed made her heart race. “I don’t know him but I can’t imagine…”

  Alexandre murmured soothingly and stroked her back. “The truth will come out. It always does.”

  Given what she’d discovered only hours ago, Charlotte agreed with him.

  “Am I glad that’s over.” Kerry’s relieved exclamation broke into her thoughts. “Thanks for waiting. I needed the support.”

  “You’re welcome. We’d be happy to give you a ride home,” Alexandre offered.

  The other woman shook her head. “Thanks, but I think I’ll take a walk.”

  “Are you sure?” Charlotte asked, worried.

  Kerry nodded. “Some fresh air will do me good.”

  They parted on the ground floor, both of them deep in thought over what they’d witnessed.

  By the time Charlotte and Alexandre arrived home, the estate was in an uproar, news of Spencer’s death having beaten them to Napa. Lilah was a complete wreck.

  Charlotte left Alexandre’s side to help Megan and Paige calm the older woman. Lilah finally slept sometime in the small hours of the morning and instead of going to the cottage, Charlotte collapsed in Alexandre’s room.

  Nobody said anything about the arrangement and even if they had, it wouldn’t have mattered. It wasn’t a night to be alone, especially when the man she loved was more than willing to hold her through the dark hours.

  The next morning, they drove a golf cart to her cottage so she could shower and change, before returning to the main house to join the others in the breakfast room.

  Lilah appeared calm, but both Paige and Trace had dark circles under their eyes. Walker, who’d arrived late last night, seemed to be in shock. Megan looked marginally better—she’d spent the night in her own home and driven over with Simon early this morning. Charlotte had a feeling that Megan had only returned to the tense atmosphere of the house because it was obvious that Paige needed support.

  After Lilah excused herself to go sit in the library, the rest of them stared at each other, not knowing what to say.

  It was Walker who broke the silence. “I’m sorry you had to go through that, Charlotte.”

  “I wasn’t alone,” she said softly, glad that Walker and Alexandre were getting along. She’d introduced them last night and while Walker had been surprised by their engagement, he’d made no negative comments. It mattered to her that the two most important men in her life accept each other.

  “What a mess,” Trace muttered. “And it’s only going to get worse. No one knows what he put in his will.”

  “Your father’s not even buried and you’re worried about the will?” Walker’s tone could’ve cut glass.

  Trace’s eyes sparked with anger. “We have to worry. It’s not only the vineyard that’s at stake but Ashton-Lattimer, too. With Spencer dead, do you really think the others are going to sit back?”

  At the mention of Spencer’s two ex-families, silence descended on the table. The doorbell rang in the distance. A minute later, the housekeeper entered the breakfast room and leaned down to speak to Charlotte, who happened to be sitting nearest the door.

  “Mercedes Ashton and Jillian Ashton-Bennedict are waiting in the front gallery.” Irene kept her tone low.

  “Thanks. Paige, Megan,” Charlotte said, thankful for Irene’s discretion. “We’ve got visitors.”

  When the men looked up, she attempted a smile. “Girls only.” Kissing Alexandre on the cheek, she walked out with the others. “It’s Mercedes and Jillian.”

  Megan brightened but Paige continued to look subdued. When they reached the gallery just off the entrance, Jillian immediately headed over to meet them, graceful as always. “We heard what happened—we just came to say that if you need anything…”

  “Thanks for coming,” Megan said. “This is going to be a big mess, but at least the women are willing to talk.”

  Mercedes, always slightly reserved, nodded. “I’m worried—”

  Before she could finish her sentence, a high voice screamed, “Get out!”

  Whirling around, Charlotte found herself looking at Lilah. The redhead’s usually cool, emotionless face was suffused with rage and she clutched a cut-glass tumbler as if she wanted to throw it. “Get the hell out of my house!”

  “Mrs. Ashton,” Jillian began, her tone gentle.

  “He’s not even buried and you’ve come to gloat?” Lilah cried. “Get out! Get out! Get the hell out!”

  Paige went to her mother but Lilah shook off her hand. “Leave!” Striding to the entrance, she hauled open the door and pointed. “Get out.”

  Charlotte touched Jillian’s arm. “I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s okay,” Jillian whispered. “I’ll call you later.”

  The two women left without another word. Lilah slammed the door behind them and stalked back into the library, the tumbler still in her hand. It was only then that Charlotte realized the other woman had been drinking.

  Late that night, she finally had a moment alone with the man she adored beyond reason. “Alexandre,” she whispered, as they were getting into bed at the cottage, preferring the privacy it afforded over the estate house.

  “Ma petite?” His masculine voice was a purr in the darkness.

  “With everything that’s happened the search for my mother’s been pushed into the background.” She settled into the bed.

  He slipped in beside her and cuddled her close. “But not forgotten. We know your mother left Kendall and returned to her people. It’s not mu
ch but…”

  “But if Spencer wasn’t lying to me, my mother originally came from the Pine Ridge reservation.”

  “It makes sense to start your search there.”

  “Where else could she go—a woman who’d lost everything?” A lump lodged in her throat. “It can’t be done from a distance. We’d have to go to Pine Ridge.”

  “Does it have to be you, Charlotte? Can you not hire an investigator?” Alexandre’s voice was coaxing but not demanding. “You’ve endured much this past week—it hurts me to see you hurting,” he admitted, shattering her completely. “I’d like to take you away from here for a while, show you my homeland, have you meet my maman.”

  The idea tugged at Charlotte’s heart. “I’m tired of this place, too,” she confided. “I want to meet your mother. But I don’t want to give up on my own mother when I’m so close. I feel like I can almost touch her.”

  They were both silent for a while.

  “If this is what you need to feel happy, then of course we’ll stay in America and go to Pine Ridge,” Alexandre began.

  “I told Walker about our mother today.” Charlotte couldn’t forget the ravaged look that had dawned in her brother’s eyes as she’d spoken.

  “When?”

  “After lunch, while you were talking with Trace. I had to tell him in private. And I wanted to do it before he spent too much of himself grieving for a man who didn’t deserve his loyalty. You understand?”

  “Of course. I realize what a shock it must’ve been. He, I believe, was very close to Spencer.”

  “Yes. He looked up to him, respected him, trusted him.” She hated that Spencer was causing her beloved brother pain even from beyond the grave. “I was thinking…”

  “Yes?” The single word was a stroke in the darkness.

  “We can help with the research, but maybe Walker should be the one to go to Pine Ridge. He needs to do this, just like I needed to find out the truth.”

  “And how would that make you feel? You were the one who believed, but he’ll probably see her first.”

  Charlotte smiled. Trust Alexandre to think of her welfare. “I want to meet her so desperately, but I love Walker. I can give him this because if the situations were reversed, I know he wouldn’t hesitate.”

  Alexandre’s hand spread on her stomach, warm and protective. “Then do you wish to remain here for Spencer’s funeral?”

  “I’m no hypocrite. I never liked him and if there were any choice, I wouldn’t stay. But given the way Lilah’s acting and the mess things are already in, I have to support the others at least through the funeral.” She bit her lip. “Am I a terrible person for not being sorry he’s dead?”

  “No, you’re simply honest. This man caused you only pain. Why should you mourn him?” He kissed her.

  Her returning kiss held her heart. “Thank you.”

  “Then shall I book our tickets once we know the funeral arrangements? I’m sure we’ll be given permission to leave after those detectives check out our alibi with the hotel staff.”

  “Yes.” She frowned. “I just realized I’ll have to find someone to take care of the greenhouse while we’re in France.”

  He was quiet for a moment. “I want to ask you something about your greenhouse and this cottage.”

  “What?”

  “If I had my way, I’d marry you right now. But, since we’ve decided to wait until things are calmer with the family, will you consider moving in with me when I establish a home in this country? It will be very soon—I want to get you away from the estate. From what I’ve seen, things are only going to get worse.”

  Smiling, she snuggled closer. “I’d love to move in with you but I can’t abandon the greenhouse—it’d only put more stress on everyone.”

  “I understand, chérie. For the moment, we can find a house nearby so you can continue your work without being tied to the estate. Will that do?”

  “It’ll be perfect. And it won’t be forever. I’ve always wanted my own business, independent of the Ashton name. Once things have settled down a little, I’ll let the family know my decision to move on and we can decide where we want to live permanently.”

  “Maybe you can even do your work in France, non?” He turned to look down at her. This close, she could see his smile even in the darkness.

  “Maybe.” She smiled back. “Do you miss your home?”

  “Oui. I worry about my vines.”

  “You’re a winemaker to your toes.” Her laugh bubbled out of her.

  He chuckled. “You’ll like my land in France. It’s full of growing things.” He dropped a kiss on the tip of her nose. “And I’m sure Paris will bespell you.”

  “Paris,” she whispered. “I’ve always wanted to do something wild and romantic like run off to Paris.”

  “That wasn’t in your journal. I would’ve noticed.”

  Joy whispered through her. No matter what happened in her life, so long as she had her wonderful Alexandre by her side, she’d flourish just like her flowers. “Don’t you dare go near my journal again, Mr. Dupree.”

  “I won’t need to.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because, ma petite, I’m going to be such a wonderful lover, you won’t be able to resist sharing your fantasies with me.” It was a smug statement, but the tone was heartbreakingly tender.

  Throwing her arms around him, she kissed him soundly on the lips. “I love you to bits, Alexandre Dupree.”

  “Then all my fantasies have come true.”

  ISBN: 978-1-4268-4738-7

  AWAKEN THE SENSES

  Copyright © 2005 by Harlequin Books S.A.

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the editorial office, Silhouette Books, 233 Broadway, New York, NY 10279 U.S.A.

  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

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