Billionaire Games Boxed Set 1-3 (47 page)

CHAPTER TWO

BACK AT LECIE’S PLACE, a Spanish-styled Hacienda overlooking the Pacific, the time was nearing midnight. Lecie and Deidra had headed home after Nick disappeared and Lecie succumbed to the doldrums over his impending marriage tomorrow.

She didn’t know why it was affecting her so profoundly. It wasn’t like she and Nick had ever been close. Hell, they weren’t even friends. She barely knew him. But since when had that ever mattered when it came to attraction?

She dropped down onto the plush tan couch, her purse resting at her side, and propped her feet up on the maple coffee table. Staring at the massive stone fireplace in front of her, she wished it was cool enough to light a fire. At least that’d give her something to concentrate on. As it was, her mind was idle enough to dwell on Nick Matthews and his impending, scratch that, inevitable marriage to his supermodel-gorgeous fiancée, Ginny something-or-other. Tomorrow.

Deidra switched on the overhead light. An array of tiny light bulbs in the chandelier above Lecie illumined the room with entirely too much light.

Lecie groaned and shielded her eyes. The lights went out. Deidra shuffled to the other side of the room and switched on the small table lamps sitting on the table against the wall behind Lecie. A soft glow illuminated the room. Much better.

Lecie rested her head against the back of the couch and closed her eyes. The room began to spin. Bad idea. Opening her eyes, she lifted her head. “God, what a depressing night!”

She could hear Deidra fiddling around at the bar behind her. Ice clicking against glasses, then liquid pouring. Good, that’s exactly what she needed. Another drink. Lecie fully intended to drown her sorrows.

“Well,” Deidra said. “I hope you’ll move on since Nick is practically a married man now.” She moved around the couch and stood over Lecie, offering her one of the two glasses she carried. “Here. Drink this.”

After Lecie took one of the glasses, Deidra sat down beside her. Lecie sniffed the drink.
Damn. Water
. She leaned toward the coffee table.

Before Lecie could set the glass on the table, Deidra stopped her. “You need to drink the water.”

Lecie cut what she hoped was a biting glare, then took a sip.

“Do you want to go home?” Deidra asked.

“God, no.” Lecie practically cringed. “I’m not ready to go home. I’m having too much fun.”

“Fun, huh?”

Lecie could feel Deidra’s eyes boring into her. She just didn’t get it. Worshiping Nick Matthews from afar was much more fun than being under Papa’s controlling thumb, any day.

Her phone jingled a playful tune inside her purse. She fished it out and looked at the display.

Papa. Again.

She laid the phone on the couch, display up.

“Still ignoring your father?” Deidra asked.

Lecie shrugged. “He only wants me to come home so he can run my life again.” She sighed heavily. “I’m not ready to go home. I need more time…here in California where I can be free to discover who
I
am.” Her voice trailed off as she added, “Or who I can be…”

“If you keep ignoring him,” Deidra said in that all-knowing tone she was so famous for. “Pretty soon one, or both, your brothers will show up at the door.”

W
ith only the table lamp on the desk casting a soft light over Nick’s office, he paced the length of the open space with one hand on his hip and his cell in the other. The call at the other end rang out through his speakers, and rang and rang and rang. Eventually, it went to voice mail, just like it had the other umpteen times he’d called.

Nick wasn’t in the habit of calling Ginny incessantly like this, but considering how she’d been acting lately, he just wanted to know that she’d made it home safely.

At the sound of the tone to leave a message he disconnected the call. He’d already left her a message—more than once.

Various scenarios, none of them good, bounced through his head. Ginny on the side of the road with a flat tire. A breakdown. An accident. Nick shook the images out of his head. If any of those things had happened, she would’ve called by now—if she could.

Nick hit the speed dial again. The door opened and Dean came in. Nick’s call to Ginny went straight to voice mail. He disconnected the call and looked at Dean. “She’s not answering her phone.”

“You’re paranoid.” Dean rolled his eyes. He stepped back and closed the door.

“Maybe.” Nick shrugged. “But there’s gotta be a reason why she’s not answering her phone.”

“I’m sure there is.” Dean chuckled. “She doesn’t want to talk to you.”

“She wouldn’t blow me off.” Nick shook his head. “Something’s wrong.”

“She’s a girl. It’s the night before her wedding. She’s doing that ritual thing they do, casting some sort or spell or something.” Dean’s laughter reached out and wrapped its mocking arm around Nick, making him feel a little bit ridiculous. “Lighten up, man.”

Nick threw his hands up. “Fine.” He leaned against the desk and crossed his arms at his chest. Dean wasn’t going to let up, but Nick had news for him, neither was he. No way could he go to sleep tonight without knowing if Ginny was home, safe and sound.

Nick’s phone jingled. He glanced at the display. A text from Ginny. Nick tapped the screen.
Home safely. Going to sleep now. See you tomorrow. Don’t be late!

He lifted his gaze to Dean’s somber stare. “It was Ginny. She’s home.” He felt a little stupid, but wanted very much to drive by the house just to make sure everything was okay.

After a second or two, Dean started shaking his head. “Uh uh.” He pointed at Nick. “I know that look. As soon as I leave, you’ll be right behind me.”

Nick groaned and huffed. “I just don’t understand why I had to move out of the house this week. Ginny and I have been living together for over two years.”

“I told you…” Dean laughed. “It’s that ritual, spell-casting thing that girls do right before they get married.” His eyes widened as he shrugged and shuffled backward, toward the door. “Just deal with it. Tomorrow you’ll be back in like Flynn.”

“I don’t know.” Pressing his lips together, Nick looked away, down to the floor.

“Dude, she is absolutely gonna kill you if you go over there tonight.” Dean’s face flared with augmented agitation. “I’ve got to save you from yourself. We’ll drop by your motel room and grab your tux.”

“For what?”

“You’re coming with me to my house tonight. So I can make sure you don’t do something stupid.”

H
olding a tray with a pitcher of orange juice, two glasses, a plate of donuts and two saucers, Lecie passed through the double doors leading out to the terrace. Orange juice sloshed in the pitcher, and each step she took was more cautious than the last.

Carefully, she set the tray on the glass table and gave herself an imaginary pat on the back for not spilling it, before claiming a seat on the middle of the couch.

Carrying trays decked with drinks and other liquids was not as easy as it looked. Lecie had a newfound respect for those who did it for a living.

The morning sun cast its golden hue across the clear, blue sky. Lecie stretched past the tray, reaching for her sunglasses on the far side of the table. Securing them in the crook of her finger, she dragged them toward her. Shielding her eyes behind the shades, she relaxed enough to enjoy the cool morning breeze blowing in from the ocean, bringing with it the scent of the honeysuckle lining the edge of the property.

Lecie poured herself some orange juice and sat back, sipping it as she took in the view. “Gosh,” she said out loud, even though she was the only one there. Deidra, as far as she knew, was still sleeping, but Lecie had brought a glass out for her just in case she happened to wake uncharacteristically early today. Lecie gazed out at the ocean beyond the far side of her property. Calm and still, it melded together with the early morning blue sky. “What a beautiful day.” Too bad it was overshadowed by Nick’s wedding.

Oh, well. Lecie blew out a soft sigh and reached for a donut with her free hand. He was married now. Practically. She needed to find a way to move on. “Maybe I’ll just stop hanging out at Hang Ten,” she kidded herself. While steering clear of Nick’s restaurant was doable, although doubtful, Lecie had no plans to leave California any time soon.

Her cell phone vibrated on the breakfast tray. She leaned forward to glance at the display. Mama. Well, perhaps she should take her call. It was one thing to ignore Papa, but quite another with Mama. Lecie set her OJ on the table and picked up the phone, clicking on the call. “Hello, Mama.”

“Good morning! It’s not too early there, is it?” Mama’s voice poured out from the speakers.

“No, Mama. I’m awake…and up, enjoying a wonderful view of the Pacific Ocean.”

“I guess I don’t need to ask if you’re having fun.” There was no questioning in Mama’s voice, just assumption.

Instantly, Lecie had a desire to cry to her mother about Nick’s wedding today. But that was a bad idea. Right now, Mama was the only thing standing between Papa and Lecie. Mama had taken a hands off approach to Lecie’s American adventure, even after she and Deidra had left Mavis Ferguson’s house in Florida without a word to anyone back in France.

But this, crying over some guy who was getting married today? That was the kind of thing that’d push Mama over the edge, and onto Papa’s side. Lecie wasn’t strong enough to challenge both of them.

We’re having a wonderful time, Mama,” Lecie said with conviction. “And before you ask, yes, Deidra and I are being very careful about who we trust.”

Strangers. That had been Mama’s main complaint. She was worried about something happening to Lecie and Deidra. But she, unlike Papa, realized that she could not cage Lecie up forever. She was, after all, twenty-three years old. Sooner or later, they had to let her live her own life, make her own mistakes. And that time was now—thanks to Lecie’s brothers’ uncle who had included her in his will.

Sometimes, Lecie forgot that Julian and Andre were only her half-brothers, and that Mama was not their mother. That Papa had had another wife before Mama. It didn’t feel that way. Occasionally, Lecie even thought that Julian might be Mama’s favorite. Most of the time though, Mama treated them all equally—which made Lecie’s inheritance from Edouard Renault seem a bit surreal.

“That’s good, darling.” Mama’s gentle but sober voice brought Lecie back to the conversation. “I want you to have fun and see the world, but I also want you to be safe.”

“I promise, Mama…we’re not letting our guards down.”

“I would feel better if we could send one of the valets over to help you out.”

“I wouldn’t feel right about taking Soren or Simon away from Julian and Andre.” But she did understand her mother’s point, and even agreed with it to an extent. At least about the part of having someone else take care of the house. “I’ll look for someone over here.”

“But it would still be a stranger, dear.” Mama’s tone filled with worry. “Soren’s brother Gerard is available. What if we sent him over?” It wasn’t really a question so much as a fact, and Lecie knew that.

“I don’t know, Mama…” her voice trailed off as she lost her confidence, right along with the ability to stand up to Mama.

Lecie had to admit though, if she was going to hire a butler it would be nice to have someone already acquainted with the family. Still, she couldn’t help but feel that this was a trap being set by Papa.

“It would make
me
feel better,” Mama said in that tone that always indicated the matter was settled. “And it might appease your father. You should know, he does not like the fact that you are in America. He wants you to come home, one way or another.”

“So he wants me to come home.” Lecie laughed it off. “What’s he going to do? He can’t force me. I’m over twenty-one.” Twenty-three, to be exact. Papa couldn’t do anything legally, and now, thanks to Uncle Edouard, Papa had lost his final remaining hold on her—finances.

“Sweetheart…” Even with the one word, Mama’s voice had become overrun with caution. “Never underestimate your father.” Mama paused, and Lecie pictured her shaking her head.

“Seriously, Mama. What’s he going to do?”

“Don’t forget that you’re in America on a visa. A temporary visa.” Claudette stopped talking. The silence gave Lecie’s head a chance to fill up with new and scary scenarios of Papa having her deported. Just when she was about to completely freak out, Mama said, “He will stop at nothing to get what he wants. You should be prepared for that.”

“Then you stop him, Mama.” A newfound desperation had fueled Lecie’s words. She wasn’t ready to go home. Not yet.

“Darling…” Mama chuckled. “You have a lot to learn about men.” Her voice had softened, but her words were as determined as ever. Mama also had a way of getting what she wanted. “Shall I send Gerard over?”

Lecie hesitated, unable to fully contain her despair before it escaped with a slight moan.

Mama added, “Of course, de Laurent Enterprises will pay his salary.”

“No, no, no…” Lecie objected. “I’ll pay his salary. I want him loyal to me…not Papa.”

CHAPTER THREE

STANDING IN FRONT OF THE MIRRORED DRESSER, Nick fiddled with the bow tie. How he’d managed to stay at Dean’s all night was a mystery. Truth be told, there were a couple of times when he’d seriously contemplated slipping out the back and driving by the house, just to be on the safe side. Assure himself that everything was okay.

Course, Nick was being paranoid. He knew that. And comparing Ginny to his brother Kevin was stupid. Ginny was as straight-laced as they come. She didn’t do drugs. Hell, she barely drank alcohol. Just getting her to agree to sip some champagne at the reception had been a chore.

Even so, the feeling was there in his gut that something was wrong. That same feeling that had consumed him in the days before Kevin’s death. It hadn’t been a secret that Kevin Matthews, at the age of seventeen, had had a drug problem. Heroin. It’s what killed him.

Nick had replayed that scenario over in his head millions of times in the seventeen years since. If he’d only listened to his gut, could he have saved Kevin? But Nick was only fifteen when his brother died. Far too young to be mature enough to make a difference.