Billionaire Games Boxed Set 1-3 (31 page)

Andre laughed, loud and hearty. “I’m not changing my mind.” He shook his head. “Remember the house we went to see? For my sister?”

“The one she inherited from your uncle?”

Andre nodded. “I need to tell you about my inheritance.”

“Okay…” The word fell off her lips. Tasha wasn’t sure what Andre’s inheritance had to do with her, but considering that his inheritance would someday lead to her own child’s inheritance, she supposed she had a right to the details. Immediately, she felt the need to reiterate her position, and said, “I’ll sign any prenup you want. I know you’ll provide for our child.”

“The prenup will be fair to both you and our child. But that’s not what this is about.” He paused long enough to catch his breath. “My uncle, or rather my mother’s uncle, Edouard Renault, didn’t have any children. Julian and I were his nearest living relatives.”

“So he wasn’t a blood relation to Lecie? But he left her a house anyway,” Tasha said. “That’s so cool.”

“Oh, not just a house. Fifty million to go with it.” In just a few words, Andre’s demeanor had gone from edgy and uncertain to lighthearted and amusing.

“Fifty million?” The words caught in her throat and she started hyperventilating.

Andre’s carefree demeanor stepped aside, in favor of a new, take-charge disposition. “Bring us some water, Simon.”

Without a word, Simon delivered a chilled glass and a bottle of water. Andre took them, thanked Simon, then poured a bit of the water into the glass and handed it to Tasha. “Simon, inform Barkley to prepare for take-off.”

“Right away, sir.” Simon stepped back, turned and headed through the cabin door.

“I’m sorry.” Tasha paused to sip the cool water. “Fifty million dollars is way beyond my comprehension.”

“As my wife, you should get used to it.” He fastened Tasha into her safety belt, then searched for his own.

“Why? Did you and Julian inherit fifty million too?”

“Julian did. But I inherited much, much more.” He paused to click his belt in place. “I inherited the bulk of my uncle’s fortune. There’s a conglomerate, Mont Claire Enterprises, which includes Riviera Hotels and Draco Studios among its holdings.”

Andre looked at Tasha, probably waiting for her to say something, but she couldn’t. She was flabbergasted. She had to say something, though. The last thing she wanted Andre to think was that she couldn’t handle his world. “So…” Her tone was weak, so she cleared her throat before continuing. “I guess I don’t have to worry about whether or not you can take care of me in the style I’m accustomed to.” She capped it off with an uncertain laugh.

Tasha had never had the luxury of not having to worry about next month’s rent, groceries, and utilities. This was going to be a new experience for her. One she hoped she didn’t muck up too terribly.

H
er wit was one of the things Andre loved about Tasha. Even when she was nervous, she had an innate ability to see humor in most situations.

She drew in a deep sigh, then said, “Well, I suppose there’s one good thing that can come from this.”

“And what’s that?” Andre asked, loosening his safety belt now that the airplane had reached its cruising altitude.

Tasha said with a shrug, “It won’t do Maurice much good to threaten to disinherit you for marrying me.”

Andre chuckled. “I have a feeling my father’s going to be very happy about this marriage.”

He could’ve told her the rest, that he
had
to marry, but why invite trouble? Besides, this was no longer a temporary proposition. He intended to stay married to Tasha. For good. There was no need to make her feel as if he was only marrying her for the money. She was already worried that the baby was the reason they were getting married. He didn’t need to add to her anxiety. Too much might scare her away, or worse yet, harm the baby. Now there was much more at stake than money. Andre couldn’t bear the thought of losing Tasha and their child because of some stupid will. No, it was better for all concerned that he kept that part of the stipulation to himself.

Andre was determined not to do anything else that might upset Tasha in her delicate state.

T
he jet was small enough to land at the airport in Tahoe, which saved them a long limo ride from Reno.

Tasha had to hand it to Andre, the man knew how to get things done, and in style. When they landed at the small airport on the California side, a car was waiting to take them across the state line into Nevada—where their American wedding would take place.

Andre had reserved a suite at the Shoreline Hotel and Casino. The rooms were small—by Andre’s standards—and rustic, but they were clean and comfortable, which was all Tasha cared about.

Ever since they’d left L.A., Andre and Simon had been huddled together closer than a pack of thieves. First on the airplane and now in the hotel’s lobby, whispering and carrying on about something. If Tasha was the embarrassing kind, she’d be worried. Instead, she was merely curious, and wondering what grand surprise Andre had in store for her.

He turned away from Simon and stepped toward her. “They’ll take our luggage to our suite. Are you hungry? We can dine in the suite or the restaurant. Whatever you prefer.”

“I suppose I should eat something.” Tasha shrugged. “Maybe in our room, though.”

A smile relaxed Andre’s face, like he was happy about that. It was probably the papers. If the local press got wind that he and Tasha were in Tahoe, they’d be all over them.

A bellboy escorted them to their suite via a private elevator. Even though Tasha had been seeing Andre for nearly a year, she still marveled at the attention thrown their way just because Andre had a ton of money.

As usual, Simon tipped the bellboy. Tasha had no idea how much money Andre had instructed Simon to tip people on his behalf, but based on the wide-ass grin on the attendant’s face as he backed out of the room, she’d guess it was pretty good.

“Simon, have some chicken soup and crackers brought up.” Andre glanced at Tasha. “And perhaps a fruit platter?”

“Sounds perfect.” Tasha nodded. “And some water, and plenty of ice.” Her mouth was always dry. Tasha couldn’t get enough ice. “Chips, if they have it.”

“I’ll see to it right away,” Simon said.

“Would you like to go into the bedroom and rest for a bit?” Andre asked Tasha. “I’m going to make a few calls. I’ll let you know when brunch is here. We can eat on the terrace off our bedroom if you’d like.”

“Sure.” Tasha looked around, wondering which room was theirs. “I am kind of tired.” She could always call her parents after her catnap. Tasha was sure there’d be plenty of time to touch base with them before the ceremony Andre was arranging for later in the day.

Andre offered his arm and she took it. “Then go rest, mon trésor,” he whispered, and led her toward their bedroom. “You take care of our little bundle—” Andre opened the door. “—And I’ll take care of everything else.”

A
fter finishing his calls, Andre was satisfied that he had everything in order. Davis—the same attorney who’d handled Julian and Camille’s prenup down in Vegas—was scheduled to arrive within the hour. A minister from Tahoe Dream Weddings, an hour after that. Andre’s favorite jeweler in London had assured him the rings would arrive by courier before the minister.

Now, if only the food he’d ordered would arrive. Since it hadn’t, it might be a great time to call Claudette. He’d call her, rather than Papa. Talking to her was always a much more pleasant experience.

Andre called her cell phone instead of the house phone, to be sure he’d get her and not Papa. The family didn’t always answer the house phone, they usually left that for the servants. But when the family did answer the phone, it was always at the most inopportune time—especially Papa.

Waiting for Claudette to answer his call, Andre stepped out onto the terrace for maximum privacy. The late summer air was cool, but not enough to raise the chills that prickled his skin. He ignored them. They’d go away soon enough, just as soon as he alerted the family to keep quiet about the stipulations of Edouard’s will.

“Andre…” Claudette’s chipper voice greeted him. “Do you have good news for me. Shall I start planning the wedding?”

Andre chuckled. “Yes. Yes, you can.” He sucked in a breath as the chills threatened to consume him. “There is one thing though, the wedding is real.”

“Of course, it is,” she said, as if she were privy to some state secret.

“No, really. I’ve asked Tasha to be my wife.” Andre shook his head. “Not to just help me fulfill a will’s stipulations for a man I hardly knew.”

“You mean it’s not temporary?” Her tone quivered with hope.

“Precisely.” Andre nodded. “And in light of that, you can understand why I don’t want anyone to mention the will’s stipulations to Tasha.”

“You haven’t told her about the will?” Claudette’s tone rose with alarm.

“No, she knows about the will. She just doesn’t know I need to marry to inherit.”

“I can understand why you’d want to keep that quiet,” she said. “But you know, these things have a way of blowing up in our faces.”

“Yes, and the way it’s going to blow up is if she knows about it. She’ll think I’m marrying her to inherit, but that’s just a perk. It’s not why I’m doing it.”

Claudette was silent for a moment, and Andre thought she was building another objection. A strong one. But, to his surprise, she said, “In light of the will, I suppose you want the wedding to take place quickly?”

“That would be ideal.”

“How about the end of next week?”

“Can you arrange it that quickly?”

“Of course.” Her voice was full of confidence. “It won’t be the event of the season, but it will be tasteful and elegant. I promise, Tasha won’t be disappointed.”

“That’s why I called you.”

“Okay, so let me get to work. When are you coming home?”

“We’ll be in tomorrow morning. You can chat with Tasha about the details then.” Andre sat down in the nearest chair. “And don’t forget…not a word.”

“We are, if nothing else, discreet.”

Satisfied that he had everything under control Andre ended the call, deposited his cell phone back into his blazer’s inner pocket and went back inside.

Where was that food? Surprisingly, he was hungry.

CHAPTER NINE

TASHA HAD A LOVE-HATE RELATIONSHIP WITH HER MOTHER. Nola Gordon had been a frightful stage mother. She had Tasha working in commercials before she could even crawl, much less walk. And once Tasha did start auditioning for speaking parts, if she didn’t get it her mother never missed the opportunity to remind her it was because she wasn’t good enough, pretty enough, or talented enough.

As Tasha dialed the telephone number, she prayed her father would answer instead of her mother.

“Gordons.” Her mother’s voice flowed through the earpiece.

“Hi, Mom.” Tasha tried to cover her disappointment in a cheerful greeting. She thought about asking how things were going, but that’d open the door for a long rant about how someone, probably Marge Dickerson, was trying to take over the planning of some event on the social scene. Tasha didn’t have the time or the inclination to listen to that today. Instead of inviting trouble, she got straight to the point. “Andre and I are in town. Can you and Daddy come over?”

“A little notice would’ve been nice.” Even over the airwaves, Nola Gordon’s tone gave Tasha a good admonishing.

“Sorry, Mom. We didn’t know we were coming until this morning.”

“Well, it would be nice to see Andre.”

Andre? How about your only daughter?
Tasha kept quiet. Anything she had to say at this point, she’d only end up regretting.

When she didn’t respond after several seconds, her mother finally said, “Your father’s playing golf. I’ll call him and pick him up on the way over. Where are you? The Shoreline?”

“Yes.” Tasha nodded, even though her mother couldn’t see her. “Come as soon as you can. Okay?” Of course, she knew that
as-soon-as-she-could
would turn into an hour, maybe more.

On the bright side, that gave Tasha an hour to prepare for a meeting that could go either way. She hoped her mother would be thrilled about her marrying Andre. After all, he came with a lot of status that her mother would undoubtedly use to her advantage.

Then again, Nola might be livid. Especially if she thought Tasha was throwing away a budding career that she, Nola, had worked so hard to build.

A
fter lunch arrived, Andre had Simon set it up on the terrace via the door leading out through the suite’s main room.

Inside, Andre eased the door open to the room where Tasha was resting and found her watching television. “Couldn’t sleep?” He went to the unoccupied side of the bed and sat down.

“I called my parents.”

“You told them over the phone?”

Tasha shook her head. “They’ll be here within the hour.”

“Ah, good. Just in time for the ceremony.” He leaned across the bed and brushed his lips over Tasha’s cheek. “Brunch is here. Simon is setting it up on the terrace. Care to try a bite or two?”

“Sounds like a good idea.” Tasha tossed the coverlet aside and sat up. “Fresh air might do me some good.”

“Are you feeling ill? Should I ring for a doctor?”

“No, I’m fine. We have an appointment with the doctor in France soon, don’t we?”

“Yes. A few days after the wedding over there.” He laid his hand on her upper arm and gave her a gentle caress. “You sure you’re feeling all right?”

Tasha turned to face him. “I’m feeling perfectly well…just a little tired.”

“Good.” He touched her lips with a gentle kiss. “I was hoping to go to sleep beside my
wife
tonight.”

“Oh, you needn’t worry about that.” Tasha chuckled and reached for his hand. “Let’s go eat.” She stood and moved toward the door, still holding his hand. “I have a feeling we’ll need the energy later.”

Out on the terrace a banquet of food awaited them. Tasha picked up a few pieces of fruit, mostly watermelon, peaches, kiwi and strawberries, and nibbled on them between sips of the soup. Andre was glad to see her eating.

He made himself a sandwich from the tray of cold cuts and ate it in silence while mentally going over the afternoon’s events to make sure he’d left nothing to chance.