"I never knew until he told me today." She shook her head. "I don't understand why he set the fire."
"Revenge for you and your mother, maybe." He pulled up into the private garage to his apartment and parked Terri's car in his reserved space. Instead of getting out, he sat and held Sable for a long time. "I almost lost you again. I am never letting you out of my sight for as long as we live."
"That's going to be tough to do. Good thing I'm crazy in love with you." She recalled what his boss had said to him and met his gaze. "But are you sure you want me back?"
"Oh, baby, I want you every way I can have you. In my arms, in my bed, in my life. I want you to stay with me and have my kids and never even think about leaving me again." He trailed his fingers over her soot-stained hair. "I love you, Isabel. I always have, and I always will."
Her heart turned over as he kissed her, and she wound her arms around his neck, feeling as if she had come home after years of emptiness and sorrow.
When he pulled her out of Terri's car and swung her up in his arms, she giggled. "You don't have to carry me around like a caveman."
"Tonight I do." And he carried her into the elevator, and up to his apartment, and straight through to his bed.
It was a long time later that Sable woke up in J. D.'s arms, tired and slightly sore but happier than she had ever been in her life. Her hair was still damp—at some point they had made it into the shower—but she didn't care. She nestled close to him, feeling cold, then went still as someone seized her hair and jerked her head back.
A slight figure loomed over her. "Get up, you little slut," a harsh voice hissed.
Sable released J. D. and climbed back out of the bed, wincing as the intruder's grip nearly tore her scalp. That didn't scare her as much as the smell of gasoline. "What do you want?"
"Justice." The figure held out a red square can and began splashing it on the bed.
"You won't get it this way, Laure," J. D. said softly, and turned on the lamp next to the bed.
Sable stared, horrified, at the woman's hate-contorted face. "Mrs. LeClare? But we thought you were—"
"Dead? Oh, no." Laure smiled. "You see, while that crazy Cajun was setting fire to my house, I made a daring and miraculous escape. But the trauma was too much for me on top of the horrific murder of my poor husband, and it forced me to go into hiding, in fear for my life. In a week or two, I'll recover enough to return and tell the press all the details of my ordeal."
Sable took in a sharp breath. "Caine didn't start the fire. You did."
T never liked that decrepit old place, but Marc had to have it." She stroked her hand over Sable's hair. "Just like he had to have his daughter. I burned the house, but I can't seem to kill you."
"How many times have you tried?" J. D. asked.
"Three. You think four's a charm with this one?" She yanked Sable's hair. "Look at her. Not a mark on her, just like before. You'd think she was made of asbestos." She glanced at J. D. and held out her arm over the bed. In her fist was a lighter. "Put your hands out where I can see them, Jean-Delano, or I'll set the bed on fire first."
J. D. placed his hands on the edge of the covers. "You hired Bud Gantry to do your burning for you twenty-nine years ago."
"Of course I did. This slut's mother tried to take Marc away from me." She frowned. "All that trouble—do you know, Bud Gantry tried to blackmail me, when it was his fault he got caught? It's much cheaper to hire someone to kill a man in prison, though. It only cost a thousand dollars and three cartons of cigarettes. Imagine that."
"You hired Billy Tibbideau after Marc told you about Sable."
"He was going to give up everything for her—his campaign, his reputation, our standing in the community; he even threatened to divorce me and leave me penniless if I didn't agree to it. He expected me to swallow all that humiliation because she was his beloved Ginny's little brat."
Sable met her crazy eyes. "You were at the warehouse that morning. Billy didn't kill Marc. You did."
Laure smiled and drew out a strand of dark red hair. "I paid Billy to bring me the pole and set the fire. Marc didn't know I was waiting upstairs for him." She clicked on the lighter. "Unfortunately Billy got there a little early, but he won't be a problem anymore. He has left town— permanently."
"Laure, you need help," J. D. said softly.
"Why? I can burn her by myself. I should have done it the very first time; then she would have never broken your heart, Jean-Delano." Laure applied the flame to a hank of Sable's hair, and chuckled as Sable slapped it out with her hand. "See? No trouble at all."
Sable watched J. D. tense, readying himself to spring. "You can't get away with murder again, not with Caine in a coma."
"Billy's the one who's been trying to kill you. They'll think he finally succeeded." She pushed Sable to her knees. "A shame your mother's not here, J. D. She'd enjoy this as much I do." She clicked on the lighter again and set Sable's hair on fire.
J. D. lunged from the bed, knocking Sable aside and throwing the gasoline-soaked cover over Laure. She screamed as the lighter ignited it and she was covered in a blanket of flame. She fell over, screeching and writhing.
Sable rolled on the floor, away from Laure, burning her hands as she frantically tried to put out her hair. J. D. hauled her up under his arm and ran into the bathroom, where he thrust her under the shower.
Water blinded her, but the heat and the sickening smell of her own hair burning vanished.
He lifted her dripping from the tub and covered her nose and mouth with a wet hand towel before doing the same to his face. "Hold on tight."
J. D. led her back out to the bedroom, where almost everything was burning now. The vague shape of a blackened body lay in the center of the fire roaring up from the bed. The intense heat seared Sable's face; in a few moments the entire room would be filled with flames and smoke.
Sable stumbled through the smoke with J. D. to the front room, where he jerked two coats from a rack before he got her out into the hallway. Fire alarms were ringing and the building's overhead sprinkler system snapped on, and the other tenants hurried out of the apartments as smoke poured into the hall.
As she saw the other people, Sable realized why he had grabbed the coats—they were both still naked.
"It's okay." J. D. paused long enough to wrap her in one coat and pull on the other, then swung her up in his arms. "We're going to be okay now, baby. I promise." He carried her to the emergency stairs.
Epilogue
J. D. waited for Sable outside Caine Gantry's room. The big man had emerged from his coma and was due to be released in a few days. Moriah Navarre had already been released, and was at home resting after dealing with her injuries and the scandal that had rocked New Orleans.
Sable came out, looking fragile but beautiful in her strapless white silk ball gown. She gave J. D. a rueful smile as she rubbed a hand over her short red hair. "He didn't like my new style. He said I look like Anne Heche."
"It'll grow back, and I think you look like Audrey Hepburn." J. D. didn't want to remember how it had felt, watching Laure set fire to Sable's head. "You sure you feel up to going to this?"
His mother had begged them both to come to the Noiret Blanc Gala, and surprisingly Sable had been the one to accept her invitation.
"Absolutely. Your father promised to dance with me, and he says he can waltz way better than you." She slipped her arm through his and admired his black tux. "You can't monopolize me all night, you know, Mr. Bond."
He laughed and led her to the elevators. After Laure's final murderous attack, J. D. had wanted to keep Sable away from the media, but she had insisted on dealing with the press and the scandal. The Gambles and the Creole community in turn had rallied around her, and now most of Marc's friends and associates had pledged to help her with the Cajun community project.
Sable was grateful for the support but not very impressed by the attention. "I may have LeClare blood," she told J. D., "but I'm not joining the social set. I'm still
a Cajun, and I'll always be proud of it."
The gala was in full swing when they reached the Gamble home, and Elizabet herself met them at the door. "I was getting worried," she said as she kissed J. D.'s cheek, then turned to Sable and studied her. "Now, where did you get that dress?"
She glanced down at herself. "I bought it at a new boutique in Metairie. I hope if s all right for tonight."
"It's perfect." Elizabet took her hands and leaned over to add in a murmur, "Take me with you the next time you go shopping there, and I'll show you where I get my shoes."
Sable glanced down at the other woman's elegant black heels, which had sparkling, flirty little toe straps. "Deal."
Sable faced the room with no small amount of trepidation—there were hundreds of men in beautiful black tie, and women in bewildering varieties of white gowns. This time J. D. was at her side, however, and they would face whatever came at them together.
Louie rushed over and with his usual exuberant affection hugged and kissed them both, then hustled them in to introduce them to several family friends. J. D.'s brows rose when he saw Terri in a feminine version of a black tux weaving through the crowd to get to them.
"Jesus, what a crowd. I feel like a transvestite penguin. You clean up nice, partner." She elbowed J. D. and grinned at Sable. "Looking good, too, Red."
Cort appeared and scowled at J. D. before giving Sable a brotherly kiss on the cheek. "I thought you'd never get here. The mayor wants someone to make a speech, and I had to give the last one."
"Oh, no." J. D. noticed how studiously his brother and his partner were avoiding looking at each other, and suppressed a smile. "I've only got one speech to make tonight."
Elizabet took Sable's hand and tugged at his arm. "Now would be the perfect time, Jean-Delano."
He let his mother lead him and Sable out to the garden, where Elizabet called out, "Ladies and gentlemen, if you would join us out here for a moment, my son has something that he would like to announce."
People came out through the French doors into the cool night air, and slowly fell silent as Elizabet stepped to one side. Louie put his arm around her and grinned broadly at his son.
J. D. looked at Sable as he took her hand in his; then he surprised everyone by going down on one knee. "Miss Isabel Duchesne-LeClare, I would be honored if you would consent to be my wife."
Her dark eyes shimmered with tears. "Jean-Delano Gamble, it would be my honor to have you as my husband."
As cheers and applause erupted around them, he took out the diamond ring he had been carrying in his jacket all night, and slipped it on the third finger of her left hand. A sudden boom went off, and colorful fireworks exploded overhead.
"That's the end of Mardi Gras," he said, looking up at the dazzling display before returning his gaze to hers. "Are you sorry the excitement's over?"
"No." She drew his face down to hers. "For you and me, if s just beginning."
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Hall, Jessica Page 25