Pulling out another book, this one pertaining to France’s history, she scanned the contents and flipped to the desired page.
There was no mention of their tryst with King Louis. Jacque Cherif LaFleur had brought much happiness to the Royal court. It broke her heart to read how he’d died an old, lonely man. His paintings were scattered in various museums worldwide.
Her heart stopped when her eyes fell upon a colorized, modern picture of the blue diamond. Jacque must have come to trust Louis if he turned it over into his royal hands. The King had had it cut, it was now a mere 45.52 karats. She scoffed at the number. Why would he ruin such a glorious artifact?
The infamous diamond was now in the custody of the Smithsonian Natural History Museum, the dark rumor of death and curses had followed it through the ages.
She felt a light tap on her shoulder, “I’m sorry to bother you, Miss Keats. Your plane leaves in twenty minutes,” Gus informed her.
With a sigh, she closed the book, and that chapter of her life. Her emotions a turmoil of mirth and sorrow, she wondered how she’d ever get along with out her beloved corsair. “I’m ready.” Gus helped her return the books to their appointed place on the shelves and soon she was on her way back to Fort Meyers.
She tried unsuccessfully to convince herself not to dwell on the past the duration of her plane ride. Everything happens for a reason, at least she’d always believed that before. Her main focus should have been what she was going to do with her life once she returned home, but all she wanted to do was go back to her townhouse and burrow herself beneath the covers and never come out.
Jacque had never loved again. Had in fact, gone to his grave with thoughts of her. She totally understood how he could do that. And like Jacque, she imagined she’d die a lonely recluse. There would never be another man for her.
The airline stewardess announced over the intercom that the plane would be landing soon. Esa sighed and pulled the seatbelt across her lap. It was late and she was tired, though her thoughts wouldn’t allow her any rest.
She waited twenty minutes for a cab to take her home. The palm trees rustled high above her, dark silhouettes against the moonlight. The time she and Jacque had made love beneath the palms in Guadeloupe called to her shattered spirit. She ached for his arms to wrap her in their loving embrace, for the strength of him to carry her through the restless days ahead.
She stood outside her gloomy apartment and wondered if Sid had removed his things. Since she didn’t have her keys, she used the keyless entry and entered through the garage. Flipping on the light switch, she was shocked to see her furniture shrouded with dust covers.
Papers were strewn from one end of her living room to the other. Someone had dumped her mail in a pile near the sofa. Sid. Her blood boiled. He’d probably been searching for anything that would help him obtain her father’s company when she’d disappeared!
A mysterious brown package lay beside the stack of mail. She hadn’t been expecting anything. It wasn’t her birthday. Perhaps it was from some well wisher in light of her father’s death.
She picked up the puzzling parcel; it looked much heavier than it actually was. Someone had signed for it in her absence. Larisa Douvae. Had her cousin come to visit?
The bundle was from Paris. She didn’t know anyone in Paris, did she? She grimaced as her mind pulled a name from its memory file.
Rafeull was from Paris.
Her blood sizzled beneath the gooseflesh that dotted her skin. Probably some trinket of appreciation for not wagging war on the swindler to take back what rightfully belonged to her! She ripped it open, eager to see what the con artist thought might be a suitable offering for such a feat.
She gasped. The package nearly toppled from her rattled hand as she stared spellbound at the familiar script on a smaller package within the cardboard box. It was Jacque’s bold scrawl staring back at her. She’d recognize it if she had cataracts in both eyes!
Dear God, how could it be? She couldn’t breathe, her heart raced spastically. Taped to the side of the carefully wrapped parchment was a note. It was from an attorney’s office, in care of the LaFleur Estate. She swallowed, unable to see the print through her watery eyes. The LaFleur Estate? The letter said she was to contact the office upon receipt of the package. Apparently, the sender had left a request for the package to be delivered at a specific date and time.
Setting the letter aside, her fingers ran over the script on the wrapping. “Oh Jacque, I miss you so much,” she cried, hugging the box to her heart.
Taking extra care not to rip the lettering, she peeled off the aged parchment. A beautiful trinket box stared back at her. Oddly, it looked identical to the one her family had held in their vault. She dropped onto the couch. Good God, they’d changed history!
If the diamond were in a museum, it couldn’t be in the family vault.
She raised the hinge on the box. Her heart grew heavy with grief upon seeing the seasoned note inside. The black ink had nearly seeped through the thin parchment.
Could her bleeding heart handle its contents?
She lifted the note out of the box and held it to her nose. A fresh wave a tears followed the subtle waft of her pirate. Jamaican Rum, sea salt, and sandalwood. A feast of paradise to her ravenous nostrils.
She removed the ribbon and unrolled the note.
My heart,
Words can’t express the pain and loneliness that has taken up residence in my soul since time so carelessly ripped us apart. There’s naught an hour that goes by that I don’t think of you and long to taste the sweet kiss of your lips. Avast, our time will come my love. I swear with every fiber of my being, I’ll find you again. Until then, may our hearts kiss somewhere between the realm of sleep and wake, where wishes come true and curses take flight.
My heart is yours, forever. Love, Jacque
When she could open her eyes again, she wiped away the tears and lifted out the red velvet cloth. She poured the contents into her open hand, and gasped. In her hand were at least 10 of the missing karats of the blue diamond, carved in the sparkling shape of a beveled heart! It hung from a gold chain.
She cupped it to her breast with both hands and cried some more. She would cherish it always. Keep it close to her heart.
The annoying red dot flashed on her phone. She groaned, deciding the calls could wait until tomorrow. She started up the stairs leading to her bedroom and froze.
The last time she’d seen Sid, he’d fired a shot at Jacque. She bolted the stairs two at a time and found the furnishings covered there as well.
A chill traveled up her spine as though a nest of spiders crawled across its contour. Her home had been shut down as though she were dead. Was that why her cousin had come? To close up her home?
She shouldn’t be shocked. After all, it was the only rational explanation when she didn’t resurface after her fall. Where was Sid? What explanation had the oaf given for her disappearance? Suicide? As things in her apartment looked to be unfinished, were they still around? A newspaper clipping next to the phone drew her attention.
Esa read the headlines and a chill slivered up her spine. “Man shoots fiancé and her lover, then turns gun on himself.” Sid was dead. And, according to the article, so was she.
She could just imagine the look on everyone’s face when she waltzed into her father’s company in the morn—the thought was lost amidst a fanciful inspiration. A wicked grin spread her lips.
Everyone thought she was dead.
She wished she were dead, or could at least disappear for the rest of her days. She didn’t like to think about a life that didn’t include her beloved corsair.
This might actually work out to her advantage! And it would certainly get her out of what she suspected would be a heated confrontation with Mr. Rafeull!
Filled with a fresh burst of energy, she snatched a suitcase and loaded it with only those things she wasn’t willing to part with.
In the midst of her packing, she sank onto the edge of t
he bed as the reality of her situation struck her. How would she support herself? Her father had left her a wealthy woman, but if she were dead, her assets would be frozen and untouchable! Good grief!
Of course, the staggering diamond would see her comfortable for some time, but she wouldn’t part with it if her life depended on it.
Damn!
Looks like she may as well unpack and prepare to clear out her space at the office. Would Rafeull change the name of her father’s company? She didn’t want to think about that, didn’t want to picture him sitting at her father’s desk—
The desk!
Her face lit with the thrill of hope as she remembered the stash of bills her father kept hidden beneath his desk. Emergency resources.
Of course! It wasn’t enough to live on, but it would get her by for about a week or so until she was able to relocate and secure employment elsewhere. All she had to do was get to the secret compartment in the floor of her father’s office.
Correction, Mr. Rafeull’s office.
Had he made changes?
She looked at her watch, 1:30am. No one would be in the office at this hour. If there were any hope of success in her quest, she had to go now.
~ * ~
Even after weeks of searching, he still couldn’t believe it. The beautiful, lively Esa Keats. Dead at the hands of her fiancé. Charles Keats was right in not trusting the murderous fool! It just couldn’t be true. He’d traveled so far to be near her, only to meet with the news of her demise?
Jack Rafeull paced the stuffy penthouse until he’d nearly worn a hole in the plush carpet. Finally, he sat down on the sofa and propped his booted feet on the black leather ottoman. Running both hands through his hair, he dropped his head back and closed his eyes.
Keats Shipping Industry had bombarded him with calls the past couple of days and he did his best to focus on the most pressing issues. He couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat, couldn’t think, much less run a company he wasn’t familiar with.
But he’d made a promise to a dying man. A man he’d grown to respect a great deal in such a short span of time. If it was the last thing he did, he’d make sure the business thrived under his guidance, though his heart was no longer in it.
Perhaps he’d return to France and run the company from afar once he learned the way of things. Hoping the night air would clear his head, he snatched his jacket and left the penthouse. A midnight stroll had always cured what ailed him before. He’d had such big plans, such dreams.
But with her gone, those dreams were nothing more than a shaded memory of hope. He wished Sid had survived. He’d love to choke the last troublesome breath from his cursed body.
After about an hour or so of mindless walking, he found himself at Keats Shipping Industries. He hadn’t set out to journey so far and wasn’t sure why he was here now. Still something had drawn him here, and a yellow Jeep parked awkwardly near the entranced caught his attention.
What was going on? Who would be here at this hour?
Creeping through the shadows of the building, he paused occasionally to listen for any sounds of movement. Where was the Jeep’s owner? The unmistakable screech of furniture being pushed across the floor snapped his head in the direction of his office. His office! A thief?
Peeking through the glass slit in the door, he could see the silhouette of someone crouching low beside his desk. He tiptoed to the safe and pulled out the thirty-eight caliber, checking to make sure it was loaded.
~ * ~
“Breaking and entering is against the law.”
“Shit!” Esa jumped, hitting her head on the desk and clutched her chest as the dark room was flooded with light. So much for sneaking in and out unnoticed! Heart hammering, her legs seemed unable to move. That voice…
“I suggest you rise slowly with your hands in the air and move to the center of the room. Turn around so I can see you,” he cautioned.
That accent.
When she didn’t move, didn’t speak, the man added, “Consider that your warning, I give but one per customer.”
Dear God, that phrase.
Esa found her legs and was on her feet within the second. Dare she hope? Was it possible? She spun around and had to clutch the edge of the desk to keep from falling.
It wasn’t possible. But there he was, gaping at her with his mouth open and looking more shocked to see her than she was to see him.
But, he’d been dead for centuries.
Still, he looked exactly like him, in every way. Dressed in black, from head to toe, his hair was dark as the night sky, sheets of silk that swept his shoulders. His eyes were dreamy and his muscles—Good god! Those muscles—rippled from here to eternity!
“Esa? Is it really you?” he asked, the familiar tone melting her insides like a hot knife through butter. Dear God, he knew her name! It was Jacque! “They told me you were dead.”
“Jacque!” She wasted no time hurling herself at him. One minute she was gaping at him and the next she was draped around his body like a wrapper to a chocolate bar, lips locked in a smoldering kiss.
“Jack,” he corrected, laughing. “Jack Rafeull.”
Esa froze.
Pushing him away, she stammered, “Y-you…you’re Rafeull? I-but… you’re—”
He kissed her to stop her rambling. She didn’t care who he claimed to be, no two men could kiss like that! She hugged him tightly as though she were afraid that if she should let go, he might disappear. “Please, tell me this isn’t a dream!”
“If it’s a dream my heart, may we live in a perpetual state of slumber.” Their lips seemed unable to remain apart for more than a minute.
“H-How did this happen? How did—”
“Whoa Esa, slow down. It’s a long story and there’s plenty of time to tell it. Besides, I have a few questions of my own.” He winked and that infamous sexy grin she thought never to see again lit his beautiful face and the fuse of desire between her thighs.
“I have something in my apartment I was supposed to give to you when we met. It’s from your father. If you’d care to accompany me, I’d be more than happy to give it to you.” His smile sent a shiver of eagerness down her spine.
“If I’d care to accompany you? A boatload of buccaneers couldn’t keep me away!” She chuckled.
His laughter formed a warm blanket around her heart.
“Why were you sneaking around in there?” he asked.
“It’s a long story, I’ll tell you about it sometime.” She winked. And to think she’d almost ran away to avoid meeting this man! “By the way,” she had to ask, “you’re not married, are you?”
“No. Though things are looking up. Esa,” he stopped and lifted her face to look into her eyes. “I hope this doesn’t come off like a pick-up line, or sound too horribly crazy, but from the moment I first saw your picture in that magazine, I haven’t been the same. I think I’ve waited my whole life for you.”
Tears trickled down her cheeks and he kissed them away. It didn’t sound crazy at all.
In fact, her soul took flight upon hearing the precious words and it was some time before her feet settled back on the ground.
She didn’t care what his name was, Jacque had returned to her. Always one to keep his promise, he’d found her. His soul smiled loving at her through Jack’s eyes.
No longer would they have to live day to day, minute to minute wondering how much time they had left.
This moment in time belonged to them.
Epilogue
Esa contacted the law office taking care of the LaFleur Estate as requested. She nearly fainted while still holding the phone when the man told her they needed to meet as Mr. Jacque Cherif LaFleur had left her a very wealthy woman. His fortune, his paintings, everything was left in her name.
She and Jack expanded their shipping business, along with their family. Married a little under three years, they had a curious set of twin boys, the spitting image of their father.
Esa wasn’t at all surprised to find her
husband held a secret passion for painting. He was truly gifted…time hadn’t changed that. It was as much a part of him as she was. He never tired of painting portraits of her and their children.
It amazed her that Jack was able to recall cherished memories of his previous existence. When she’d disappeared, he’d sought out anyone and everyone that knew anything about time travel and reincarnation of the soul. Jacque became friends with the novelist, Louis-Sébastien Mercier, after the fellow Parisian had published a book about time-travel. “The Year 2440: A Dream If Ever There Was One”. Having read the novel, Jacque was convinced the man had spent several years in the future. The author had apparently fallen asleep, only to wake up in a futuristic Paris. The novel read like a guidebook and conjured vivid images of changes in speech, clothing and economics, to name a few.
Together, the men took to studying the Hindu religion more intently. Learning and mastering everything they could about channeling the spirit. Whatever he did, it worked. And just knowing Jacque had gone to such great lengths to be with her filled Esa with a love time could never erase.
Every so often she’d take out the letter her father had left with Jack. It never failed to bring a grateful tear.
My darling Esa,
Please forgive me for the grief I know I’ve caused you with my passing. I hope you’ll understand why I simply couldn’t leave the business in your name. Sid Cromwell is a shark treading shallow waters. I’d hoped you’d figure that out for yourself.
I met Jack Rafeull several months back. He is very knowledgeable in matters pertaining to the shipping industry and seems a genuinely sincere gentleman. Look into your heart, sweetheart, as I have my own. In that secret place, remember who you are, your dreams, your history and your future. It is in that very place you’ll find your happiness waits.
Everything happens for a reason my love, never forget that. It only takes one man to change a chapter in history.
My heart and well wishes go forward with you darling.
Your loving Father XO
“It only takes one man to change a chapter in history,” she repeated, wondering if her father knew how true he was.
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