by Sara Craven
His caressing hand abruptly stopped its ministrations. ‘Baby? What are you saying?’
‘Yes, darling,’ she told him softly. ‘That’s the other thing I came to tell you. It seems you’re going to be a father.’
‘Ah, Dieu.’ He lifted himself on to an elbow, staring at her in a kind of anguish. ‘What have I done?’
She looked back at him, her throat tightening in shock. ‘You—don’t want our baby? I admit the timing isn’t ideal, but—’
‘Want it?’ He seized her hands, covering them in kisses. ‘Mon coeur, I cannot believe such happiness. But we should not have made love,’ he added grimly. ‘It could be dangerous when you are only just enceinte.’
‘Well, the baby will just have to cope.’ She smiled up at him. ‘We have to make up for lost time, my love.’
‘Then I shall have to learn to be gentle. You have to be kept safe, even if I have to wrap you in silk,’ Marc told her softly.
‘Safe.’ She sighed the word. ‘The first time you made me feel safe was when I’d had too much to drink and you slept with me on the sofa.’ Her eyes widened. ‘I think that was when I realised I was falling in love with you.’
He framed her face between his hands. ‘And yet you ran away,’ he reminded her teasingly. ‘Why didn’t you awaken me, Hélène, and tell me how you felt—what you wanted me to do?’ he added, kissing her mouth softly and sensuously.
‘Because Nigel had told me you exercised a two-month limit on your affairs, and I was frightened,’ she said frankly. ‘Scared to love you, or let you make love to me, in case you broke my heart.’
‘But with you, it was never to be an affaire,’ he said quietly. ‘It was to be a lifetime. Because you were the one I had been waiting for, cherie. The girl of my heart. With the others before you—’ he shrugged ‘—I can say only in my defence that I tried to be honest—to make no promises I would not keep, nor offer commitment I would not fulfil. When they knew there was no future in the relationship, most of my girlfriends walked away.’
She said in a low voice, ‘But with me, you always said it was the house you wanted. And I was just part of the deal.’
‘I said that to protect myself. And to stop you running away from me. You see, mon amour, at that time I thought you still cared for Nigel.’
‘Nigel!’ Helen sat up indignantly. ‘Oh, you couldn’t have done.’
‘I saw you together at the wedding,’ he said, his mouth twisting. ‘You seemed quite happy in his arms.’
She said flatly, ‘I think I was temporarily paralysed. He was telling me to ask you about Angeline Vallon. He—he implied she was your mistress.’
‘And you believed him?’ His voice was incredulous. ‘But why did you not ask me?’
‘Because I couldn’t guarantee what your answer might be,’ she said. She took a deep breath. ‘I’m afraid I’d heard you talking to Alan about her, and I’m not proud of that. Nigel appeared to confirm what you’d said. So heartbreak seemed to be right there, waiting for me.’ She paused. ‘Anyway, why didn’t you ask me about Nigel?’
‘Because I told myself that once we were married, and in bed together, I could make you forget him,’ he said huskily. ‘That I could persuade you to fall in love with me. I was that arrogant—that stupid. I should have known that with you it could never be that simple.’
‘I fought you for my own sake,’ she said quietly. ‘No one else’s. But I still could not stop myself wanting you.’ She was silent for a moment. ‘That money—I gave it to the poor in St Benoit.’
His smile was crooked as he drew her back into his arms and lay down again, her head pillowed on his chest. ‘How estimable of you, cherie.’
‘I wish I hadn’t now,’ she said regretfully. ‘After all, we need every penny we can get.’
He laughed. ‘Things are not that bad, ma petite.’
‘Marc—don’t pretend. Alan told me you stood to lose everything.’ She stirred uneasily. ‘I don’t suppose we should even be here—especially, my goodness, like this,’ she added, recognising their joint state of dishabille. ‘The security men might come to escort you from the building. Isn’t that what happens? And don’t you have a desk to clear? Because I could help…’
‘Hélène,’ he said gently. ‘Do not upset yourself. There is no need, I promise.’
‘I’m bound to be upset,’ she protested. ‘You’ve lost Fabrication Roche, and I know what it meant to you. How difficult it must be…’
‘Mon coeur,’ he said patiently, ‘I did not lose. It was close, but I won. I still have the company.’
She stared up at him, open-mouthed. ‘But Alan said—’
‘Alan is a realist. He knew the odds were against me. But I had suspected a long time ago that someone might be planning a boardroom coup. We were suddenly encountering problems where there had been none before.’ Wryly, he counted them on his fingers. ‘Sabotage, strikes, accusations of racism, key workers abducted and held to ransom.’
He shook his head. ‘Someone wished to acquire Fabrication Roche, and cheaply, but I did not at once see that Angeline Vallon might be involved. I thought that difficulty was behind me—that she had seen the error of her ways. But I was wrong.
‘However, I knew that I had not been her only target. Not all of them had resisted, naturellement, but they had all found it was not easy to escape her talons, even when the relationship had palled and they wished it to end. She had a capacity for revenge, that one.’
Helen’s eyes were like saucers. ‘But her husband…’
‘He worshipped her,’ Marc said briefly. ‘And she dominated him. He decided that her beauty made her the prey of other men’s lusts, but that she was always innocent. I had insulted her, therefore I must be punished. He has a simplistic mind, le pauvre Hercule.’
His mouth twisted. ‘And, as Alan saw, I had allowed my attention to wander a little. But what could I do, once I had seen the woman I had been waiting for all my life? I had to make you mine.’
She nestled closer. ‘You were certainly persistent.’
He kissed her again. ‘I was in love. So much so that I could almost understand poor foolish Hercule. That day when I sat beside you at Charlotte’s wedding I knew I would give anything to have you look at me as she did at her husband, but it seemed hopeless. And I was afraid, too, that if I could not afford Monteagle I might lose you for ever.’
‘But I came to you,’ she said. ‘I offered myself. You know that.’
‘I did not know, however, what I could offer in return.’ He stroked the curve of her cheek. ‘I was scared that if it was a choice between Monteagle and myself, I would lose. So it seemed best to fight on alone, until I knew what kind of life I could lay at your feet.’
‘And I thought you preferred Angeline Vallon and couldn’t wait to get back to her,’ she confessed.
‘In a way, you were right. My legal advisers had contacted me to say that they had finally drawn up a dossier of her affairs, with testimony from her other victims. So I was able to present it to Hercule before the final meeting today and watch him collapse. It was not pleasant, and I felt,’ he added quietly, ‘like a murderer.
‘But his bid for Fabrication Roche collapsed with him, along with his allies on the board.’ His smile was grim. ‘They were the ones who found themselves being escorted from the building. Now there will be some restructuring and—voilà—life goes on.’
‘So you didn’t actually need the money I brought you.’ There was a touch of wistfulness in her voice.
‘Ah, but I needed the love that came with it.’ His arms tightened round her. ‘And the look in your eyes I had prayed for. A far more precious gift, mon amour.’ He paused, his hand caressing the curve of her body that sheltered his child.
‘Although,’ he added. ‘We could use the money, if you wish, to try and repurchase Monteagle.’
She shook her head slowly. ‘No, that’s all in the past, and I’d rather let it go—invest in our future. Find a new home for us bot
h, and our children.’ She hesitated. ‘Marc—when I came in, you didn’t look like someone who’d just won a famous victory. You looked—sad.’
‘I was thinking of you,’ he said quietly. ‘And all the mistakes I had made. Wondering how soon I could go to you—to explain and ask you to forgive me. To try once more to persuade you to let me share your life—to love me. It seemed at that moment my real battle was still to come. Until you spoke, and smiled at me, and I realised that, little as I deserved it, I had been offered a miracle.’
He bent and took her mouth, gently and reverently.
‘And now,’ he told her, ‘I must get you dressed and fed, my wife. But the only bed I can offer is in my apartment,’ he added ruefully. ‘And you have never wished to go there.’
‘I thought I had my reasons,’ she said. ‘But I was wrong. About so many things.’ She allowed him to lift her to her feet, and slid her arms round his neck, her eyes shining into his with joy and trust. ‘Please, Marc—take me home.’
ISBN: 978-1-4268-5927-4
IN THE MILLIONAIRE’S POSSESSION
First North American Publication 2005.
Copyright © 2005 by Sara Craven.
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