Billionaire Games Boxed Set 1-3 (45 page)

“Martel,” he answered.

“Harvey, it’s Tasha de Laurent.”

“Tasha…what can I do for you?”

“I was just reading over the papers and I must be reading it wrong.” She stopped and took a deep breath. Was she nuts? She exhaled and added, “I thought these were divorce papers, but it seems to be some kind of transfer of property?”

“No. Those aren’t divorce documents. They’re simply a transfer of ownership,” he said. “As soon as you sign, Mont Claire, the houses, and the money Andre inherited from Edouard Renault will belong to you.”

“Me?”

“You. It’s one hundred percent yours.”

“Holy shit,” she said, disconnecting the call.

T
asha
had called Andre, and now she stood at the double French doors looking out over the garden while she waited for him to arrive. She could see her Angel’s memorial stone from where she stood. She liked that and was thankful that Andre had been thoughtful enough to move the statue to Avignon.

Looking down at her baby bump, she laid her hand on it and gave a little caress.
At four months along, she was starting to feel a sense of confidence in the doctor’s prognosis for a healthy pregnancy this time.

The doorbell chimed, but she didn’t jump this time. Maybe she was getting used to it. That was good. She’d be here for a long time. This was, after all, going to be her baby’s childhood home. Tasha wondered if she’d find it hard to leave this place in twenty years. Maybe. Probably.

The doors to the library opened up. Tasha was expecting to see Jordan, but instead found herself face-to-face with Andre. He stopped just inside the door with one hand behind his back. He stood there looking at her with those eyes and that smile. Both turned her inside out.

“You ring the doorbell now?” She ramped her voice up a notch on the stern meter, hoping to quell the desire overcoming her.

He chuckled and shook his head. “No, that wasn’t me. It was the florist.” He waved a bouquet of white roses at Tasha. “These are for you.”

They were beautiful, not to mention her favorite. “Thank you.” She took the flowers and glanced away, feeling the heat from blushing warming her cheeks. Lord, she was a fool for that man.

“You’re welcome.” He looked at the envelope in her hand. “Is that the papers?”

That brought her back to reality. She poked the envelope at his chest. “What is this?”

“It’s my declaration.”

“Declaration…?” She felt her brow wrinkle. “For what?”

Andre moved toward her and took the envelope from her, then dropped it onto the table. He slipped his hands around hers, saying, “I’m trying to prove myself to you.”

“By turning Mont Claire over to me?” she asked. He nodded. “But Andre….”

“Look…” Andre released her hand and sat down on the couch. He grabbed the envelope and pulled out the papers. “I’m prepared to do whatever it takes,” he said, looking around for a pen. After locating one in the coffee table drawer, he signed the document in all the appointed places and handed it to her with a smile. “Now, all you have to do is sign it and it’ll all be settled.” He must have seen that she was about to object, and butted in, “If you still want a divorce, the papers will be delivered tomorrow. But at least I’ll know that I’ve done everything I possibly can to prove to you that I want
you
more than I want Renault’s fortune.”

Tasha shook her head. “There has to be a better solution than this,” she said in a quaking voice. “It’s not fair for me to take everything from you just to make myself feel secure.” Tasha dropped down onto the couch and buried her face in her hands. Taking Andre’s inheritance from him was not what she’d wanted at all.

“If that’s what it takes.” He sat down beside her and graced her arm with a gentle touch. “Honestly, Tasha…without you the money means nothing.”

“Well, I like insecurity a lot better than guilt.” She gave Andre a determined look. “I don’t want either of us feeling like we’re playing second fiddle to a bunch of money.”

“You want to give it away?”

She stared at him, unsure about whether or not he was serious. “No, I don’t want to do that either. It’d be careless to throw away our baby’s birthright.”

A grin touched the corners of his mouth. “That is sound thinking.” He tilted his head to one side. “So what do we do…aside from divorcing?” Andre shook his head. “I really don’t want to divorce.”

“Neither do I.” Tasha lowered her eyes and stared at the document on the table. Giving her the whole of Mont Claire had been a grand gesture, but it wouldn’t fix things. It would only turn the tables.

If only he’d given her half.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

WHEN TASHA WAS SIX MONTHS ALONG, Claudette and Camille threw her a baby shower at Belle Vallee. Family friends came from all over France and Europe, and Tasha’s parents came from the U.S. Of course, Jim Gordon hung out with the men at Pacifique de Lumière, while the women played their party games and stuffed themselves with cake in Avignon.

Tasha
had quickly tired from all the reverie, and had claimed a comfortable chair in the west salon, where the shower had taken place, vowing not to get up again. She gazed at the table stacked with gifts still in their wrappers, all very fine things, she was sure. But right now all she wanted to do was take a nap. She rubbed her bulging belly with her left hand. Andre’s rings glittered on her ring finger.

Claudette slipped gracefully into the chair at Tasha’s side. “You look like you have the weight of the world on your shoulders. What’s on your mind?”

“I’m just thinking about how close we came to losing this house, not to mention Mont Claire.” Tasha sighed heavily.

“Cecily Garceau was a determined woman.” Claudette glanced around. “I suppose all this can induce people with very few scruples to do all sorts of things.”

Tasha nodded and then shrugged. “She seemed so adamant that her great grandmother had been
wronged
.”

“I’ve done a little research on that score.” Claudette patted Tasha’s arm. “Jacques and Claire Renault were Andre and Julian’s great-great grandparents. Jacques’ sister Emilie was Cecily’s great grandmother. Jacques’ fortune was founded on diamonds in South Africa, then he moved into real estate among other things. His sister married a man who was, by all accounts, thought of as a scoundrel. He was an Englishman, Marvin Bishop. Anyway, Jacques gave Marvin one million dollars right after he married Emilie. Marvin blew the entire dowry within two years and then came back for more. Jacques Renault was not a man to throw money away, but he had his sister to think about, so he offered Marvin a job. Marvin declined, and in fact was very angry that Jacques would not just
give
him more money. He forbade Emilie to ever see her family again. The poor girl was in love.” Claudette shrugged. “And the rest is history.” Claudette shook her head. “So you see, Jacques Renault did everything he could, short of becoming Marvin Bishop’s personal bank account, to take care of his sister. She could’ve left Marvin. Jacques would’ve taken care of her, but she chose not to. I can understand though, how her descendants would have grown up hearing a distorted version of the truth. They say Marvin carried a great chip on his shoulder for the rest of his life…and it was a very long life. He lived well into his nineties.”

“I feel better knowing Cecily’s claims are unfounded,” Tasha said as her entire body relaxed. She’d hate to think Andre’s ancestor had thrown his sister to the wolves.

“Hey, listen…” Claudette tapped Tasha’s arm. “I’m going to see if I can direct some of these people into the idea that the party’s over.” She moved to the edge of her chair, looked at Tasha, and said, “You look a little tired.” She didn’t wait for Tasha to say anything, she just got up and moved to the nearest group of guests.

In a way, Tasha felt sorry for Cecily. It must be a terrible feeling to think you’d somehow been robbed of something. She was determined that would not be a legacy she and Andre left their descendants.

Tasha sat there for at least fifteen minutes thinking about Emilie’s plight. It’s too bad the girl had been so blinded by love. Tasha hoped she and Camille could teach their daughters—if Tasha ever had a daughter—to be more selective in their choices of men.

Camille came to her side and sat down in the empty chair next to Tasha. “I do believe the crowd is beginning to thin out.”

“I hope so.” Tasha had no doubt that Claudette was responsible. Her mother-in-law knew how to get things done.

“You feeling okay?” Camille asked.

“I’m fine. Just a little tired.”

Camille nodded. “I remember feeling tired, especially during the last months.”

“I’ve resigned myself not to complain, though.” Tasha used to worry about losing the baby, but these days she was getting better about being optimistic. “Not even about Andre.”

“If Andre is anything like Julian, then you deserve a medal for not complaining about his hovering and overprotective ways.” Camille laughed, and Tasha joined in.

Neither Tasha nor Andre had signed the divorce papers. They were once again living as man and wife. He’d put up a fight at first when she’d suggested a solution to their problem, but he’d relented when he realized that it was the only way for them to carry on. Tasha and Andre became equal partners in Mont Claire Enterprises.

A
ndre poured two more scotches and headed toward his father-in-law, who was standing by the window overlooking the east gardens. “Jim,” Andre said, offering one to him.

“Thank you.” Jim took it and smiled. Both men sipped their drinks and stood silently for a time. Jim was the first to break the ice. “Andre, I wanted to thank you.”

“For…?”

“For taking care of my daughter. For treating her like a princess. For loving her.” He saluted and took another drink.

“The pleasure has been all mine.” Andre raised his glass. “I promise you, she’ll never want for anything.”

“What she wants is love. And I don’t think anyone could give her more than you.” Jim was appreciative and his words and expression showed it. “I think that Nola wants nothing more than to stay in Avignon until Tasha has the baby.”

“I’ll talk to Tasha about it. I’m sure she’d love to have her mother here these last few weeks.”

“Well…” Jim laughed. “You might have to referee once in a while.”

“Not sure I’m that brave.” Andre chuckled.

“Tasha’s grown up a lot in the past year or so.” Jim looked away, but Andre could still see the far away sadness crossing his eyes. Andre could imagine he was thinking about when Tasha was a little girl. It made Andre eager for the birth of his own child. Jim looked back at Andre, “I think she’ll be able to handle her own now…even against her mother.”

Andre swallowed the remaining contents of his glass. “Jim, what do you say we go see what the women are up to?” He laughed and slapped his father-in-law on the back.

“That’s a fine idea.” Jim nodded.

C
laudette and Lecie had seen the party guests out, while Camille ushered Tasha upstairs to take a nap. Forty-five minutes later, Tasha awakened, refreshed.

She got up and went to the window. Her and Andre’s bedroom suite wasn’t the largest at Belle Vallee, but Tasha had chosen this one because she could look down on the south garden and see her little Angel’s memorial stone from the window. Tasha couldn’t explain it, but seeing it somehow gave her a sense of peace. She touched her stomach and the baby kicked. Tasha giggled, overcome with joy.

From out of nowhere, arms slipped around Tasha, and she knew in an instant it was Andre. She breathed in a happy sigh and turned to face him.

“I didn’t hear you come in,” she said, sliding her arms around his neck.

“I gathered that much.” He touched her tummy. The baby kicked. Andre pulled her completely into his embrace. “What were you laughing about?”

“I wasn’t laughing. I was giggling.”

“Ah…my mistake.” His lips brushed against hers as he spoke. “What were you giggling about?”

“I’m so happy.” Her heart sang with delight.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For staying. For forgiving me.”

“Thank you for making me want to stay.”

Andre sucked in a sigh. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Ooh…before I forget…” His tone changed, turning serious. “I think your mother wants to stay here until the baby’s born.”

Tasha felt her face skew involuntarily. “My mother…?” She sucked in a deep sigh. “Ooohhhh…” She groaned.

“Look at it like this…” He mused. “Think what it will do to her to have to stay here day-in and day-out, knowing that
you
are mistress of this house.”

Tasha’s frown spread into a smile. “That
will
drive her nuts.” Numerous scenarios of her mother having to relent to her subordination filled Tasha’s thoughts. “Yes, we should invite her to stay. And put her in the west wing.”

EPILOGUE

STANDING OVER TASHA’S HOSPITAL BED, Andre leaned down and kissed her sweetly. The baby boy in her arms gurgled.

Nola, who was sitting on the other side of the bed, had been quiet up until now. “He’s just beautiful, sweetheart.” She caressed Tasha’s arm.

During the last two months, mother and daughter had developed a newfound respect for each other. Nola had learned to appreciate the woman Tasha had become, and to let go of the idea that Tasha was simply a vessel to feed Nola’s ego. And Tasha had finally received the love she’d so craved from her mother.

Andre would like to have taken credit for that, but he knew it was all their doing.

“He’s absolutely perfect.” Andre straightened up, his eyes still glued to his wife and his baby. “What shall we name him?”

“Yes, yes…what
is
his name?” Nola asked. “Andre Junior?”

“God forbid…” Andre groaned.

Tasha shook her head. “Andre doesn’t want his son to feel like he’s forever in his father’s shadow.”

“Wise…” Nola nodded.

Tasha was silent for a bit, then said, “I know…I have the perfect name.” She smiled up at Andre and then let her gaze journey over to meet her mother’s questioning face.