Billionaire Games Boxed Set 1-3 (35 page)

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

THE WEDDING WAS SIMPLE—by de Laurent standards. The guest list consisted of less than twenty people. Tasha’s gown was elegant, the flowers tasteful, and the dress code was a step or two down from black tie.

It’s no wonder that the reception was little more than the cocktail hour the de Laurents typically had before dinner. But it made little difference to Andre and Tasha. As far as they were concerned, they were on their way to a wonderful life together, and a fancy wedding mattered little to the outcome.

When the time came for Andre and Tasha to depart for the airport, she insisted on tossing her bouquet, even though there were all of four single women to vie for the catch.

Lecie, as fate would have it, caught Tasha’s bouquet. That must’ve been some kind of sign, since she’d caught the bouquet at Camille’s wedding, too. At least, Tasha thought it was a sign as she climbed into the limo where her parents were waiting.

They were also on their way to the airport, but they were headed back to the States, while Andre and Tasha’s destination was St. Tropez.

C
amille stood in the shadow of the covered archway at Pacifique de Lumière’s main entrance on the second floor. The car carrying Andre and Tasha and her parents had long since disappeared behind the ancient stone walls and massive pine trees that barricaded the estate.

She could hardly wait for Tasha and Andre’s return. They were going to have such fun being pregnant together and having babies at the same time. Their children would not only be cousins, but best friends.

Reluctantly, she turned and headed back inside. Maybe she’d go find Julian and talk to him about hiring a decorator to help her with the nursery.

Camille strolled down the hallway, meeting Parker, the butler, at the main intersection.

“Madam.” Parker stood there straight-faced with his hands behind his back. “There is a long distance telephone call from California. The party, a young lady, is asking for Miss Tasha or madam.”

“Thanks, Parker. I’ll take care of it.” She headed off into the western corridor. Her destination, the sitting room. She’d found it the perfect place to take calls on the house phone. The family rarely spent time in there, so it always afforded silence and privacy.

She slipped into the room, easing the door shut behind her. She picked up the receiver, and said, “Hello. This is Camille de Laurent.”

“Camille?” A familiar voice, yet one she couldn’t identify, greeted her. “It’s Beverly from Electric Avenue. I was looking for Tasha, but they said she’s gone off on her honeymoon.”

“Beverly. Hello, how are you?” Camille asked, but didn’t wait for an answer. “Yes, Tasha and Andre are on their honeymoon.”

“Great.” Beverly sighed. “Then I take it she’s feeling better?”

“That she is.” Did Beverly know about the baby? Camille wasn’t sure and decided discretion was the best course of action.

“I’m so glad to hear that. So many people got sick. Several ended up in the hospital. It was a nasty mess. I know Tasha was one of the first to pick up the bug, so I just had to call to find out if she’s okay.”

“She’s fine.”
A bug?
Obviously, Beverly wasn’t talking about a pregnancy.

“Good. Good.” Beverly sighed again. “I don’t think any of you are in danger. The doctor here says that the contagious period is the first few days, and Tasha was sick for several days before she quit the restaurant.”

Contagious? Camille hadn’t thought of that. “What exactly was it, Beverly? A virus?”

“Some weird stomach flu. I forget what it’s called. But really, you should be okay.”

“All right. Thanks for calling. I’ll let Tasha know you called when she gets back. I’ll make sure she gets in touch.”

Camille heard the girl say, “Thanks,” as she hung up the phone.

A bug? A stomach virus that landed some people in the hospital? This wasn’t good. “What about Tasha’s baby?” she said, barely above a whisper.
What about my baby?

Maybe Camille should give Dr. Goldman a call. With any luck at all, Beverly was right and Tasha was no longer carrying the bug by the time she’d arrived in France.

Again,
what about Tasha?
zipped through Camille’s mind. She’d better call Tasha. She should see a doctor as soon as she and Andre arrived in St. Tropez. Perhaps Dr. Goldman could recommend someone.

That settled it. Camille would call Dr. Goldman first.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

A SINGLE WORD—PREGNANT—prattled through Cecily Garceau Mason’s mind. Not only was Andre de Laurent newly married, but his bride was also with child.

“Well that settles it.” Conrad crossed the living room and sat down in her husband Daniel’s favorite chair. “The de Laurents win. Again.”

Cecily’s brother had always been the easily swayed type. She’d always known it wouldn’t take much to convince him to concede. And once he’d given up, she’d be all alone in the fight. But that didn’t deter her. Billions might not be enough to tempt Conrad, but it was all she thought about.

“Oh, it’s not over until the twelfth month has ended.” She shook her head and went to the window overlooking the gloomy, run-down courtyard of the apartment complex she and Daniel had lived in for the past ten years. Neither the owners nor the manager cared that the terrace or the apartments were in disrepair. The tenants weren’t important enough for them to care about improving the property. Not exactly a slum, but far from the affluent neighborhoods that Cecily coveted. To live amongst the privileged; that’s what she wanted. It’s what she’d always wanted. And now that the first bonafide opportunity had come to her, she wasn’t about to let it slip through her fingers. Cecily was willing to do just about anything to get that inheritance, and she didn’t care who she stepped on in the process. That’s what rich people did anyway. They stepped on people to get where they were. She’d accepted that and was fully prepared to climb her way to the top. “The very last second must tick by before I will acknowledge that Andre will inherit instead of us.”

Conrad laughed. “You say his name like you know him.”

“I know his kind.” She shot her brother an over-the-shoulder glare. “I know that he and his newly-made family is the only thing standing between us and luxurious wealth.” What Cecily really meant was
me
. But she stood a better chance of dethroning Andre if her brother was standing with her.

“Cecily,” Conrad complained, shaking his head. “It was one thing when we thought we were going to expose a fraudulent marriage. But it’s obvious that isn’t the case. The girl is pregnant.”

“Yes. But is the child Andre’s?” Cecily turned away from the window and perched her hands on her hips.

“He married her, it must be.”

Sometimes, Cecily wondered if Conrad was adopted. This was one of those times. “She wouldn’t be the first opportunist persuaded by the promise of a hefty payoff.”

“Then how do you propose we proceed?” Conrad said in a defeated voice. At least he gave up as quick as he gave in.

“Well…” She went silent while various scenarios flittered through her mind. Finally one stuck, and she smiled. “I suppose people like the de Laurents will be looking to hire a nanny. God knows, they don’t take care of their kids themselves.”

“A nanny.” He paused while it sank in. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

Of course, he hadn’t. “I’m sure they’ll want to hire one soon,” she said. “So they can get to know her before the baby arrives.”

As a nurse, Cecily had the credentials. And the sooner she could position herself between Andre and his new wife—the better.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

THE HOUSE IN ST. TROPEZ, set high on a cliff overlooking the Mediterranean, reminded Tasha of the house Lecie was to inherit in California—only this one was larger.

The master suite had tall windows that looked like garage doors, but with glass panels, framing the walls at the southeastern corner. The windows opened to a wrap around balcony that Tasha thought would be like sleeping outdoors. And since the bedroom was on the second floor, there wasn’t much worry of anyone wandering in. Considering the estate’s significant security and nine-foot barricading walls, intrusion could hardly be an issue.

Tasha had taken Camille’s call out on the terrace that was shaded by the master suite’s balcony above. A gentle breeze blew past as she listened to Camille relay the conversation she’d had with Beverly.

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” Camille said. “But Dr. Goldman thought it might be a good idea if you see Dr. Ainsworth there in St. Tropez.”

Tasha placed her hand on her belly and tried to swallow the lump clogging her throat. “I’ll be sure to do that.”

“Dr. Goldman telephoned the office up there. As soon as you call, the doctor will see you.”

Tasha tried to laugh. “I guess it pays to have friends in high places.”

“You’re the one
in
the high place, Tash. You’ve got de Laurent money backing you now. Remember that.”

“That’ll take some getting used to.”

“I hear you. But I’m sure Andre will make the transition as easy on you as Julian did for me.”

“Yeah.” Tasha sighed. “Andre has a way of making me feel like anything’s possible.”

“It’s the de Laurent charm.” Camille giggled. “All three of those men are dripping in it, even Maurice, once you get to know him.”

Tasha was happy to hear that Maurice had warmed up to Camille. He’d been rough on her when Julian first brought Camille to France.

Funny thing though, Maurice had been cordial to Tasha from the moment he’d met her. Maybe because he hadn’t seen Tasha as the threat he’d envisioned Camille. Luckily, Maurice had mellowed in the year since Camille and Julian had renewed their vows.

Tasha stayed out on the terrace long after she’d ended the call with Camille. Just sitting there thinking. Hoping. Praying the stomach virus hadn’t affected the baby.

Andre came out on to the terrace, but Tasha hadn’t noticed until he spoke. “You finish your call with Camille?” His voice drew her gaze upward to where he was standing beside her. “What’d she have to say? You two comparing pregnancy notes?” Andre asked with a chuckle.

“Sort of…” Tasha looked away, consumed with the fear of having to tell Andre about the virus.

Andre sat down on the coffee table in front of Tasha and reached for her hands. “What is it, mon trésor?”

“We have to call a Dr. Ainsworth and see him right away. The sooner the better. Dr. Goldman has already told him we’d be calling.”

Andre’s face twisted into a look of awkward curiosity. “Why do we need to see this doctor right away?” His voice had weakened and his grip on her hands tightened.

“Um…” Tasha hesitated, searching for the right words. “Remember how I told you I’d been suffering from some pretty nasty morning sickness when you showed up in California?” Once Andre nodded, Tasha continued on, “Well, as it turns out…it might not’ve been morning sickness. A co-worker talked to Camille. She called to inquire after my health after nearly everybody at the restaurant came down with a nasty stomach virus right around the time you showed up and swept me away.”

“I take it that if you had this virus instead of morning sickness, it may well have endangered the baby?”

All Tasha could do was nod. If she spoke right away, she might cry. After taking a little time to compose herself, she said, “I’m afraid, Andre.”

He pulled her to him. “Don’t worry. We’ll call the doctor here in St. Tropez. Whatever happens, we’ll get through it together.”

I
t seemed ages ago that Andre and Tasha had been tucked away in an exam room in Dr. Ainsworth’s office. The doctor had performed all the routine exams, including an ultrasound. Then he excused himself, saying he’d be right back.

Tasha fingered the patient’s gown the nurse had given her when she and Andre had first arrived. Andre slipped his hands around Tasha’s.

“The doctor’s not saying much.” Tasha was trying to feign courage, but Andre knew she was frightened. Truth be told, so was he. “What if…?”

“There’s no need muddle things up with what ifs. What is it you say…we’ll worry about that bridge when and if we come to it.”

“That’s easier said than done.” Tasha tried, unsuccessfully, to laugh.

Andre brought her hands to his lips and brushed them with kisses. “I hate to see you so blue, mon trésor.”

That rated a genuine smile from Tasha. “You know, I never knew I wanted a child until I found myself knocked up with one.” She let out a half-laugh and made eye contact with Andre. “But now that I am, I want this baby more than anything.”

“Let’s wait and see what the doctor says before we start worrying.”

Tasha nodded.

The door opened and Dr. Ainsworth walked in. His stoic expression gave little away about the status of Tasha’s condition.

Dr. Ainsworth clasped his hands together and dangled them in front of him. He sucked in a breath and held it briefly before blowing it out with force. “Tasha. Andre.” He looked at each of them as he said their names. “I’m afraid this pregnancy isn’t a viable one.”

“What…?” Tasha’s emotion-choked voice grated out the word.

This pregnancy isn’t a viable one
. The words shuddered through Andre. Their baby was gone? “What does that mean?” Andre wanted very much for the doctor to say they’d misheard him.

“There is no heartbeat,” the doctor said in a remorseful tone.

No heartbeat?
Well that settled it, then.
Our baby is dead
. Andre’s heart splintered into pieces.

Tasha struggled for breath. “It was the flu, wasn’t it? I caught the flu last week and it killed the baby.” Her blue eyes brimmed with tears that mingled sorrow and guilt. She blinked, and a single tear spilled from one eye.

Tasha’s suffering wrapped around Andre and squeezed. The pain in his chest made it all too real. This was his fault. If he’d married her and brought her back to France months ago, she would’ve never caught that damned virus.

Dr. Ainsworth shook his head. “No, Tasha. The flu didn’t cause the miscarriage. I’m afraid the baby stopped developing weeks ago. I’m surprised your body hasn’t already begun the expulsion process.”