No Regrets: Jani Kay (Firebird Trilogy Book 2)

by Jani Kay

  Confused, I dropped her hand and shifted to the door. This was fucking with my head. I was here to see Rebecca, to ask her to come to France with me now that the duke was dead. But all the time I was with Chloe, I never once thought of Rebecca. Chloe consumed all of me, every atom in my body responding to her to the exclusion of everything else.

  Fuck. How in hell did this happen?

  Chapter 39 — Maxwell

  Determined to get to the bottom of this, it was time to call in a few favors from people who owed me. My woman was in danger and it was my job to protect her.

  The one person who could give me valuable advice would be my brother, Ryder, who as part of a Motorcycle club had connections all around the world. I dialed his number, aware that it was early morning in California and that he'd curse me for calling before he got up. The phone rang a few times before he picked up.

  “Max, what the fuck, man? It's like four-thirty am. You better be bleeding somewhere on the side of the road to be calling me now.”

  “Hello, Ryder. Nice talking to you, too.”

  “What’s up, brother? You didn’t call to hear my voice.”

  I cut to the chase. “Right as usual. I need your help.”

  “Hit me,” he said, yawning.

  I told him all about the assault on Lily, about Chloe arriving and Alain showing up too, hardly drawing a breath as I filled him in.

  “You’re in Germany? Shouldn’t you be in New York to deal with Natasha? Did you watch the talk show? I'm thinking you didn’t because you haven’t mentioned her and that’s what I thought you were calling about.”

  “Natasha? Fuck. With all the drama and the time difference, I forgot to watch. Did she have anything nice to say at all?”

  “Brother, you’re not going to like it. Google it. I’m sure there are clips on the internet. I'm not telling you in case you shoot the messenger.”

  I sighed. Natasha was going to make this as difficult as she possibly could. She was wasting her damn time. Mine too. “That bad, huh? I’ll watch as soon as I get off the phone.”

  We talked a few more minutes, tossing around ideas on how to find the attacker.

  “I’ll dig into informants, Max. Information can be had for a price. What’s the limit you are prepared to pay for the attacker’s name? Somebody in the underground will be prepared to spill their guts for the right amount of cash.”

  I pulled at the collar of my shirt. “Yeah, I know. There’s no limit. Just get me the info, Ryder. If something happens to Rebecca...I don’t even want to think of the possibility.” My chest tightened. Fuck.

  “The Frenchman. He sounds pretty suspect to me. If he wants Rebecca back, he sounds like the kind of guy who’d go to any lengths to do that. Mistaken identity. I can see how that happened to Lily. You’ve got your hands full, brother.”

  I let out a long sigh. “Fuck. I sure do. Thanks for the heads up about Natasha. Call me when you have info or a name. I’ll get my security guys onto it.”

  “Okay. If there’s anything else, just call.”

  “Thanks, Ryder. Give Jade a kiss from me.” I had to chuckle at the growl he replied with. Yeah, when it came to our women, we didn’t share.

  I turned on the television and flicked through the channels. Because of the time difference, there was a chance I could catch a snippet of Natasha’s guest appearance on the talk show. It must be bad if Ryder doesn’t want to talk about it. I’d sue the bitch for slander if she said one bad thing about Rebecca.

  I sucked in a breath. There it was. A repeat of a snippet on the news. Natasha sat there in the shortest skirt I'd ever seen her wear, her long legs crossed in front of her. Her eyes were red from crying and she dabbed a tissue at them. I gritted my teeth. I knew this fucking little-girl-lost tactic of hers only too well. Problem was it worked on most men. Fuck, it had even worked on me.

  The talk show host spoke. “So, let me sum this up: Maxwell has been having an affair with his employee while you’ve been going through in vitro fertilization to get pregnant because he demanded an heir. And now that you’re finally pregnant, he wants a divorce. He’s ruining your career for the next nine months, possibly forever, and throwing you and the unborn child away. What a lame loser.”

  What the fuck? In vitro fertilization? The bitch! She was lying with a straight face. I smashed a fist into my palm, anger seething through my veins as I clenched my jaw and watched the rest of the Natasha Show.

  What other shit would she fabricate to gain sympathy and make me look bad?

  Natasha allowed a lone tear to slide down her cheek. I wanted to laugh. Who the hell only cried one tear? Fake as always. I’d just not paid attention to it before.

  She nodded. “Yes. That’s exactly what he’s done. And instead of being by my side while I’ve been through this, he’s been with his mistress.”

  Christ.

  A picture of Rebecca flashed on the screen. Then another of me with Rebecca, the two of us laughing over a drink.

  Fuck. It was getting worse by the minute. She dragged Rebecca into this.

  “Is there anything you'd like to say to your husband?”

  “Yeah.” She lowered her eyes for a beat and then for dramatic effect stared directly in to the camera. She’s good.

  “Max, if you’re watching this...baby, I forgive you. Come home and let’s be mature about this. We have a child to think of now.” She paused, then dabbed her eyes with a tissue. She fluttered her lashes, tears glimmering on the rims. “You know how much I love you.” Her voice broke on the last words.

  Christ. She was a better actress than I'd given her credit for. The media were going to lap that up. She knew it'd cause a frenzy amongst the board and the shareholders. Many of them were family men with old-fashioned values; at least that was the impression they wished to portray. They’d pressure me into upholding the carefully constructed image of Maxwell Grant: the honorable family man who made millions and gave it away to charity.

  Fuck. I was pretty much screwed.

  Was Natasha really pregnant? Was she hoping to pass the child off as mine? We hadn’t had sex for weeks, so the possibility of the baby being mine was negligible. But the media, they'd have a field fucking day, regardless of the outcome.

  What if it were true? What if it was my child she was carrying? There was a one percent chance, and fuck me if she’d catch me like that. My blood boiled. I undid the buttons of my shirt, and went to open the window for fresh air.

  I scrubbed a hand over my face. Just when I thought things were going my way, something happened to fuck the whole situation up.

  Always.

  I leaned my head against the cool glass and closed my eyes. Rebecca couldn’t find out about this until I'd spoken to my PR people and we’d assessed the damage. Natasha was smarter than I'd thought. She knew this revelation would force me back to New York, back to talking and negotiating with her. Especially if she could prove she was indeed carrying a child.

  My child.

  Fuck. My world could all fall apart when Rebecca found out. Shatter at my feet like splinters of glass.

  Chapter 40 — Rebecca

  “A car stopped in front of the door like over five minutes ago. Who’s here? Is it Kurt?” Lily asked as I walked into her room with a tray laden with tea and biscuits.

  I set it down on the bed and walked over to the French doors, letting myself out onto the balcony. Alain's car stood in front of the stairway.

  “Is it Kurt?” Lily asked again, her voice anxious.

  “No, honey. Sorry, it's someone else.”

  Lily hadn’t met Alain yet and I didn’t want her to either, afraid that his accent would traumatize her. I wasn’t expecting Alain to return because I’d hoped he understood what I explained to him. But when Chloe said it was related to the duke, I knew it was serious.

  Against my better judgment, I’d allowed him access. Maxwell was busy with business calls, so I didn’t want to disturb him. But when he found out Alain had returned, he was goin
g to be mad as hell.

  It took a while for the door to open. I sucked in a breath. Chloe got out of the car, pulling at her shorts. Then the other door opened and Alain emerged, discreetly rearranging his dick.

  Oh. My. God. Really?

  He walked around the car and grabbed hold of Chloe, pulling her to his chest. He kissed her hard then let go just as suddenly. Holy fuck.

  As if they sensed my presence, they looked up at the same time. Alain sucked in a breath then dropped his gaze. Chloe grinned at me as if she was the cat who got the cream.

  Good Lord, she has no shame.

  She grabbed his hand and pulled him up the stairs. I went back into the bedroom and poured our tea, lost in my thoughts.

  “Hey, Becca, you’re not listening to anything I’ve said.”

  “Sorry, cupcake. What was that?” She babbled on about Kurt who was bringing a new movie for them to watch together. I only listened with half an ear, my mind still on what I’d seen downstairs.

  Chloe came to Lily’s room moments later, her skin glowing with perspiration. Her ponytail was messy and her lips swollen.

  “You have a visitor, Becca,” she said cryptically, standing in the doorway. “He’s in the living room. I’m going for a shower. Be back soon.”

  She turned and left before I could say anything.

  “Who is it?” Lily asked.

  “Just a friend. I’ll be back soon.” I didn’t want her to see or hear Alain.

  Maxwell had been in the study all day, taking care of business matters, and I prayed he’d stay there a little longer. I’d find out what Alain wanted to tell me and then ask him to stay the hell away from Chloe. Hoping Maxwell wouldn’t find out, I ran down the stairs as fast as I could so that I’d get there before anyone else.

  Alain had a lot of explaining to do.

  He stood in front of the window that had been repaired since he was last here. Alain was sexy as hell, a beautiful man. I couldn’t blame Chloe for getting all worked up about him. After all, I had too, hadn’t I?

  “Alain, what are you doing here?” I said the second I entered the room.

  He swung around and looked at me with his beautiful arctic blue eyes that had first taken my breath away. He gave me a lopsided grin. “Hello, Rebecca.”

  He walked toward me, reaching for my hands. He kissed my palms like he always had, sending a shiver down my spine. If Maxwell walked in and saw this...

  “Why have you come?” I pulled my hands from his and directed him to the sofa. We sat on opposite sides, facing one another.

  He cleared his throat, shifting in his seat to get comfortable. “I...um...I went to the police station this morning as requested.” He loosened the top button of his shirt, fine beads of perspiration forming on his brow. I licked over my lips, my anxiety spiking. What was he struggling to tell me?

  “How did that go? Did they question you as a suspect?”

  “Well, actually it turned out completely differently to what I expected. They had news for me...about the duke.” He seemed to stumble over his words, as if saying ‘duke’ was new, yet awkward. I couldn’t blame him. I could only imagine his feelings about the duke since he discovered he wasn’t his biological father.

  He grimaced. “He’s dead. Died earlier today.”

  Reaching forward, I placed my hand on his arm. “Oh, Alain, I’m so sorry.”

  “Here’s the thing. The police are treating it as murder. Negligent homicide. And their prime suspect is...well, me.”

  I sucked in a breath. “Oh my God.” Thoughts spiraled through my mind as I considered the implications. While I had initial concerns about Alain and felt the need to protect my sisters from him, deep down, I knew he wasn’t capable of such a thing.

  He took my hand in his and brushed over my knuckles with his thumb, disclosing everything that happened that day at Valerie’s estate—including the part he’d left out before. I listened without interruption, nodding my head or softly humming an ‘mmm’ to encourage him to keep talking. When he then told me about the police interrogation and what they advised him, I felt myself blanching in horror.

  I raised my eyes to his as he finished his story. “How can I help you, Alain?” He ran his finger up my arm till he reached my chin, cupping it while he searched my eyes for a long moment before he spoke. I already knew what he would ask. My eyes pleaded with him not to say the words, but he did anyway.

  “Cherie, I’m asking you to come with me. Now that the duke is dead, everything has changed. He no longer has a hold over me. We can get married, live on the land—be a family. You can be my wife.”

  “Over my dead fucking body.” Maxwell stormed into the room, his eyes blazing. “What in fuck’s name are you doing here? How the hell did you get in?”

  I jumped at his voice, my heart pounding. I looked at Max in horror.

  Alain let go of me and pushed to his feet. I shot up and stood between the men, determined to stop a repetition of their last encounter.

  “Merde. I wasn’t talking to you, Grant. You can't keep Rebecca here, behind high walls and away from the world to serve your own purposes. I've asked her to resume our relationship. Not that it's any fucking business of yours, but she’s the one who needs to answer me, not you.”

  “You...asked...Rebecca?” Chloe said, her voice shaky as she came to stand beside Maxwell. She’d had a shower and change of clothes in record time. Three pairs of eyes bored into me. Each person with their own agenda. A clash of egos.

  Déjà vu.

  “Is that right?” Maxwell boomed. “Did you not understand when she told you it was over? What kind of dumb fuck are you to come back again?” His fists clenched and unclenched by his sides.

  I took a step back, shielding Alain from Maxwell. He’d have to get through me first if he wanted to lay a fist into Alain. I placed my hand on his arm, “Max, he came to tell me of his changed circumstances.”

  “Explain, Frenchman,” he growled, daggers in his eyes.

  Alain cleared his throat. “My father died, which means...I am free to marry who I choose.”

  Maxwell’s gaze swung to mine.

  “What does that mean for us, Rebecca? Are you taking up the Frenchman’s offer? Is that what you want?” A thick vein throbbed in his neck.

  “Alain.” Chloe said, her eyes glued to the man behind me. “Are you sure that’s what you want? After—”

  “After what, Chloe?” Yeah, I know what happened. You fucked Alain in the car.

  She pushed up her chin. “I don’t need to explain anything to you. It is what it is.”

  Maxwell shifted his gaze from me to Chloe, a deep frown between his brows. “What have I missed?”

  “Please. I came to speak to Rebecca...about our future together. Can we speak in private like adults? This is not your business. Rebecca must decide.” Alain placed his hands on my shoulders, pulling me back toward him.

  “Take your fucking hands off her,” Maxwell said as he took a step closer. I reached out, placing my palm against his chest, holding him back. His heartbeat drummed against my skin.

  I’d had enough. I already knew what my answer to Alain was. All I needed was a moment to finish the conversation. My eyes pleaded with Maxwell’s for understanding. I got that it wasn’t easy for him to hear why Alain had come, and I didn’t want to hurt him. We’d have our chance to talk it out after I’d resolved things with Alain.

  I needed alone time with Alain to give him my answer. Maxwell’s anger and aggression, and Chloe’s lust for Alain were complicating something that was already difficult. My head was spinning and my heart beating in my throat.

  “Maxwell, stop. Chloe, back off. Alain is right. This is between us. We have things to iron out. Please respect that.”

  “Seriously? You need to keep talking to him?” Maxwell huffed.

  “Jesus, Becca, you said it was over with you and Ala—”

  I put up my hand to stop them both. “Listen. I know what I said before. Just trust me, please...le
t us finish this conversation in peace.” I gave Maxwell a reassuring look, hoping he would understand.

  “If that’s what you want—” Maxwell shot both me and Alain a murderous glare, gritting his teeth as he took hold of Chloe’s arm and marched her out of the room.

  Oh, God, this isn’t easy.

  I followed them to the door, reached up and planted a soft kiss on Maxwell’s cheek. “Thank you,” I whispered.

  Chloe folded her arms and glared at me, pouting. She wasn’t used to being told what to do and clearly she wasn’t liking it. I’d deal with her later.

  Maxwell’s lips curved into a small smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

  “I have to do this,” I whispered, my voice cracking.

  “I know,” he said, shifting his gaze from me to Alain and back.

  Chloe hooked into Maxwell’s arm and pulled him toward the kitchen.

  Trembling, I closed and locked the door so we’d have complete privacy.

  Chapter 41 — Maxwell

  It was time to step back and let Rebecca make her choice once and for all.

  If time alone with the Frenchman was what she wanted, that’s what I would give her. I’d kick his ass out of there in a heartbeat, but it wasn’t up to me.

  All I want is for Rebecca to be happy.

  My fucking heart twisted in my chest, a dull ache settling there as I followed Chloe to the kitchen in a trance. My blood boiled beneath the surface of my skin and my palms twitched as I curled my fingers, opening and closing them repeatedly, imagining my fists smacking into the Frenchman’s pretty face and making him bleed.

  It’s up to Rebecca to decide who she wants.

  If it was the Frenchman, I’d be fucking gutted.

  If it was with me, I'd be the luckiest man alive. If not, I was screwed to hell.

  “Maxwell, are you fucking crazy? Are you giving up this easily? I thought you were the type of man who fought for his woman. I've seen how you look at Becca. You can't hide it from me.”