by Alexia Adams
This time there was no holding back. Jacques pleasured her until she screamed his name, coming twice, hard, the self-satisfied grin on his face evidence that he wanted to control her body, make her his in every way possible.
“Whatever it is you do to me, don’t ever stop,” Jacques said when they both could speak again. He lay on his side, tracing lazy patterns on her collarbone with his finger. She nodded dumbly, unable to get the words past a lump in her throat. It wasn’t a declaration of love, but he was obviously thinking of their relationship beyond thirty days.
Her eyes drifted closed. The stress of organizing the festival. The obsession to complete the sculpture. They all culminated in this one moment of pure bliss.
For now, it was enough.
Chapter 15
Maya stretched. A girl could get used to this. Super-sexy man in bed next to her. A bevy of staff to cater to her every whim. Her days busy enough to keep her occupied without being overwhelmed or worrying about paying the rent. Yup, this was the life. Except she knew it wouldn’t last.
Jacques had made no further mention of the future, but every day he seemed more relaxed, spent more time doing the things he enjoyed, including her, rather than being wrapped up in his business. He’d gone back to Paris for only three days since his return from Russia, and he’d come home each night, claiming he couldn’t sleep apart from her. It was more likely that he was making the most of having an enthusiastic sex partner. But as she slept so much better spooned against his body after at least two rounds of lovemaking, she wasn’t about to complain.
As enjoyable as lying in bed was, she had work to do. Today she wanted to finish the painting of Charles, Jacques, and Daniel that Jacques had asked her to paint weeks ago. He was going to present it to Charles at the festival.
Then there were a few last-minute details for tomorrow’s festival to tidy up. Jacques had insisted on hiring someone to deal with all the problems that would inevitably come up on the day so Maya could enjoy the party. She’d spent two days with the event planner and felt confident the woman would deal with any eventualities even better than Maya. Plus Michelle would be on hand to help as well.
Jacques had asked her several times about what she was going to wear, even offering to take her to Paris. But she wanted it to be a secret, a surprise. She wiggled away from him, trying not to wake him, but he stirred at the loss of her body heat.
“Where are you going? It’s barely dawn.” His sexy morning voice nearly made her crawl back against him.
“I’ve got work to do. We aren’t all billionaire comtes-in-waiting who can laze in bed all day.”
He sat up, the sheet dropping to his waist, exposing his naked chest. She licked her lips, and a come-here smile pulled his mouth upward. God, that smile could melt concrete. “You keep harping on about my title. I think you want one of your own.” He said it teasingly, but his eyes had suddenly turned serious.
She laughed, but there was an edge of nervousness in it. “Can you imagine me with a title? Maya, the inked countess.”
“Having tattoos doesn’t disqualify you from being a countess. Especially when the eventual count able to confer the title is very fond of them.”
She completely ignored the veiled implication. Because that was just too mind-blowing to contemplate at this hour of the day. “If you’re so fond of tattoos, why don’t you have one?”
“Maybe I’ll get one. Maybe I’ll have the name Maya tattooed over my heart.”
“That will seriously limit your dating pool in the future.”
“I’m afraid you’ve already done that. I’ve found I’m only drawn to auburn-haired, amber-eyed, Canadian artists with cupcake tattoos on their left hip bone.”
“Well, that does seem to reduce your options.” And increase her heart rate. What was he saying?
“Yes, it is rather restricting. But the heart wants what it wants.”
This was too intense for this hour of the morning. She needed a strategic retreat. “If you start singing that Selena Gomez song, I’m going to video it and put it up on YouTube.”
Jacques heaved a pretend sigh, throwing his hands in the air. “What’s a man to do? He tries to be romantic and woo his woman and he gets threatened with Internet infamy.” His crushed expression made her return to the bed.
“You don’t need to woo me. I’m already under your spell.”
“Right this minute I wish you were under my body.”
He kissed her, his lips tempting her to lose herself in the ecstasy he so easily engulfed her in. But she was already cutting it close for the paint to be dry enough to present the picture to Charles at the party tomorrow night.
“I’ve got to go. If I’m not back by six, send someone to get me.”
After another enthusiastic kiss, Jacques finally released her. Yup, a girl could get used to this life.
***
Maya stood back and stared at the painting. It was good. She’d spent two days just deciding what expression to put on their faces. Charles had been easy. She’d painted the twinkle in his eyes and the welcoming smile on his lips. Daniel she’d finally put in race mode, his competitiveness, focus, and determination clearly shown on his face. It was Jacques she’d spent the longest contemplating. She wanted to paint him as she’d wistfully drawn him the day he’d fallen asleep after his migraine—with love and hope in his eyes. Or she could capture him as he was now, satiated and relaxed, on the verge of happiness. But she didn’t know if it would last. Yes, he’d hinted about the future, even more so this morning. But there was still one huge obstacle. The price on her head. So she’d painted him as she’d first seen him—powerful, determined, and lonely.
She stretched out a kink in her back then glanced at the clock. She had just enough time to get back to the chateau, shower, and dress before Jacques would be finished with his meeting. If she wasn’t ready by the time he made his way upstairs, he’d join her in the shower and then they’d be late for dinner. Again. She’d moved the painting to the cottage so it would be a surprise for Charles, and it stopped Jacques from distracting her every fifteen minutes.
Getting dressed up for dinner was one custom she’d never thought she’d like. But it made each meal an occasion. A time to step away from the day, chill out, and enjoy the fine food and even better company. It didn’t hurt that she got to wear her sexy dresses and she and Jacques would touch each other under the table so that by the time Charles said goodnight, they barely made it upstairs before ripping each other’s clothes off. She’d had more than one seam to repair the following day. Good thing Marie Dubois claimed to love sewing.
Quickly cleaning her brushes, Maya was about to lock up the cottage when she heard her cell phone ring. God no, not now. She dug it out of the basket where she’d hidden it and answered.
“You okay?” Her brother’s strong Canadian accent came over loud and clear. She’d been speaking French for so long now, it took a few seconds for her brain to switch back to English.
“Of course,” she replied. “What’s up?”
“I’ve been calling this number for days and you haven’t answered. I was scared something had happened to you.”
“Oh, sorry to have worried you. I’ve been busy.” Living it up with the lord of the manor.
“Maya, the cops have been by again.”
“Oh God, Sean, I’m sorry. Is it making life difficult for you? You’re not about to lose your job, are you?”
“No, actually, it’s helping with my street cred. There’s a warrant out for your arrest.”
“What? I haven’t done anything. I’ve been out of the country for the past two months, for God’s sake.”
“I told you they issued a subpoena for you to attend court and testify. They’ve tracked your passport to France. And they’ve been asking about Gran-Gran and whether we still have family there. It may not be long before they find you. Be careful, okay? And for my sake, would you please call me once a week so I know you’re safe?”
“Yea
h, sure.”
“I love you, Maya. You’re a massive pain in the ass, but I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
“Thanks. I love you, too.”
She canceled the call and whirled around at the indrawn breath she heard. Jacques had the same expression on his face that she’d painted. Nailed it. It was a hollow victory.
“Who do you love, Maya?” His voice was harsh, his hands clenched at his sides.
You. Except now probably wasn’t the time to admit it. “My brother, Sean. Remember, I told you about him. He’s a teacher, helps kids in trouble.”
“You also told me you didn’t have a phone.” He relaxed a fraction, his hands no longer fisted.
“Well, I have one for emergencies. But I never use it. I certainly don’t text while in bed with you.” She approached him, her eyes searching his.
“Is there something you aren’t telling me, Maya? Everything okay back home? You seemed very tense for a random conversation with your brother.”
“No, it’s all good. Sean was just telling me off for not calling him regularly. He was worried when he didn’t hear from me in the past few weeks.”
She should tell him. Except she’d have to tell him everything. Jacques hated risk he couldn’t control, and being with her was the greatest risk of all. Confessing now would be messy and probably end their relationship. And she didn’t want that the day before the festival. She’d tell him right after. Another twenty-four hours couldn’t hurt. Could it?
Chapter 16
“Merde.”
She hadn’t heard Jacques swear often. So she looked up from the list she’d been checking. He strode across the hallway, his body vibrating with anger.
“What’s wrong?” She dropped the clipboard onto a nearby table. His mouth had hardened to a tight line and a muscle in his jaw pulsed. Her heart rate accelerated. Had he found out she was wanted by both the RCMP and Big Tony?
“My mother,” he answered.
Bullet dodged. This time. Although from his expression, he was about as excited to hear from his mother as to be told he needed a root canal. “Oh, that answers nothing.” She caressed his cheek and he covered her hand with his before sliding it across and kissing her palm. If her knees went a bit weak, it was just because she’d been standing too long.
“My mother has heard about the festival. She called to say she will attend and will require four bedrooms for her entourage, as she doesn’t wish to return to Paris if the party goes late.”
“Would you call that presumptuous or self-assured?” Except he wasn’t laughing.
“She treats this like it’s still her house. She left. Left me. Left Daniel. She didn’t come back for birthdays or Christmas or anything. What right does she have to come to our party?” A thrill raced through her when he said “our party.”
“Well, we have two choices. We can get four bedrooms ready, greet your mother when she arrives, and then ignore her for the evening as we enjoy ourselves. Then tomorrow we can stay in bed until she leaves, and aside from ten minutes when she first gets here, you never have to talk with her.”
“Tempting. And option two?”
“You tell your mother she’s not welcome and spend the entire festival expecting her to show up and make a scene. When she does arrive uninvited, wait half an hour for the police to get here and escort her off the premises. And tomorrow morning, rather than make love to me, make an application for a restraining order stopping her from ever setting foot on your property again.”
He stared into her eyes, but she already knew his decision. He kissed her, his lips lingering on hers. “Promise we can spend tomorrow in bed until she departs?”
“We can make so much noise, your mother will leave early just to get some peace and quiet.”
“You present a compelling argument. I’ll tell Marie to get the rooms ready.”
He kissed Maya briefly then walked towards the ballroom where the housekeeper was assisting with the setup for the party. With so much to do, getting four bedrooms ready for unexpected guests wasn’t going to be easy. Maya would help. She knew the perfect bedspread for Jacques’s mother’s room.
“Oh, Jacques…” He turned back. “My dress isn’t the only surprise. I bought something to wear after everyone leaves. For your eyes only, if you know what I mean.”
His sexy grin returned. “That thought is going to keep me going through whatever happens tonight.”
As she fidgeted beside Jacques four hours later, she wished she had a fast-forward button and could be modeling her new negligee for him. Instead, she was standing on the top step as six white Rolls Royces pulled up in front of the chateau. Jacques grabbed her hand and squeezed it lightly. At least, based on Jacques’s reaction to news of his mother’s arrival, she didn’t need to worry about impressing the matron. She had half a mind to tell the woman off for abandoning her children. She didn’t want to reopen old wounds, though. For Jacques’s sake, she’d keep her peace.
Grace and serenity, Maya. You can do it.
A woman in her late fifties stepped from the back of the first car after the chauffeur opened the door. She was immaculately dressed head to toe in Chanel. Her dark hair was swept up in an elegant chignon, and oversized sunglasses hid her eyes. Other people began spilling from the cars. Even if they were couples, the new arrivals would need way more than four bedrooms. Maya gritted her teeth. Maybe they weren’t all staying.
“Jacques!” The woman waved and hurried over to them as though they were on the best of terms. Jacques’s hand moved from Maya’s to around her waist, pulling her tightly against his side.
“Maman.” There was no warmth in his greeting, and if Maya hadn’t been watching very carefully, she might have missed the slight hesitation in his mother’s step.
“Are you going to introduce me, mon cher?”
“Maya, this is my mother, Audette Michaud Martin. Maman, this is Maya Tessier.” No explanation about her role in his life. But his arm around her and the way his voice softened on her name spoke volumes. Maya’s chest swelled. It was going to be okay.
The rest of the group joined them on the step, and, as she expected, Jacques’s mother began to play hostess as though she still lived here. Four more rooms were needed, and Maya left to help get them ready. It had been decades since so many people stayed at the house, and although the rooms were kept moderately clean, they still needed airing, the bed sheets freshened, and towels and toiletries found. Just what the household needed on the busiest day of the year. She was beginning to think that option two, sending Jacques’s mother packing, might have been the best.
As a result, Maya was an hour late to the winery and was so frazzled that she almost missed the symbolic first crush of the grapes. This was the family event, whereas the party tonight was adults only. Six small children from the village were vigorously stomping on the grapes in a big wooden vat. Shrieks of laughter filled the air and almost everyone in attendance had their phones or cameras out, filming the fun.
Outside, local businesses had set up stalls promoting their wares or services. There were free party games and a dunk tank. Clowns and mascots dressed as clusters of grapes circulated, handing out candy and small presents. From the smiles on everyone’s faces, it was a roaring success.
So, why was she like the bouncy castle with its blower turned off?
Jacques was busy having his photo taken with the local dignitaries, so she steered well clear of him. At least there wouldn’t be press at the party tonight, so she should be safe. She found a quiet corner, took a deep breath, and repeated Gran-Gran’s mantra. When that didn’t work, she tried “Suck it up, buttercup.”
Jacques’s mother was making her presence felt at every opportunity, her entourage following her around as though she were royalty.
“She’s a piece of work, isn’t she?”
Maya turned to find Daniel leaning against the wall behind her.
“When did you get here?” She was so glad to see a friendly face, she hugge
d him.
“Just after you. Sorry I’m late. Although I’m not sorry I missed the circus at the house. Maman likes nothing better than to make everyone dance around her.”
“Well, I plan to save my dancing for later. Have you seen Charles? I can’t find him anywhere.” She scanned the group again but couldn’t spot him.
“He said he’d give this bit a miss. He’s saving his strength for tonight.”
“He’s all right, isn’t he? I know at his age one day they can be fine and the next struggling for breath in hospital.” Her great-grandmother’s quick demise still plagued her. Especially since the catalyst to Gran-Gran’s sudden ill health had been Maya’s arrest.
“He’s fine. I think he’d just rather avoid Maman.”
“Wouldn’t we all.”
Daniel laughed. “You fit right in, Maya. I’m so glad you and Jacques got together.” With that pronouncement he pushed away from the wall and disappeared into the crowd.
Would he feel the same after she told Jacques what was waiting for her back in Canada? All the excitement of the day fizzled away.
It was the beginning of the end.
***
Jacques scanned the crowd for Maya. He wanted her at his side. Maudit, he wanted her upstairs in his bed, but he’d settle for beside him. For now. He’d barely caught a glimpse of her at the winery, and she’d come back on her motorbike before the rest of them, so he hadn’t even had a chance to tell her how fabulous the festival was.
All the guests were in the foyer, waiting for him to open the doors to the ballroom so the party could begin. But he wasn’t starting without her.
“Daniel, have you seen Maya?” His brother was hanging in the shadows, avoiding their mother.