Blazing Love: A Hot, Romantic Suspense Series, Book 2 (The Carlisle Sisters) (6 page)

“Oh boy! That hit the mark,”
Beth thought.

Jen stared at the red marks unbelievably.  She started to hurry out of the kitchen.

“Jen, wait,” Beth said sympathetically.

“Leave me alone!”  Jen shouted hysterically.

“I can’t.  We have to bring you up to date.  Please listen,” Beth implored.

“To hear more of Tracy’s gloating.  Forget it!”  Jen snapped.

“It has nothing to do with Tracy.  It’s about Grey and you need to know what’s going on,” Beth said.

Jen stopped but didn’t turn to face them.  She was humiliated once again.  First she had lost out on Grey when he rejected her and now she had officially lost Blaze.  She knew she was the better woman for them but they couldn’t seem to see that.

What had she done wrong in her pursuit of them?  She took a deep breath then swung around to face her sisters.  She hastily brushed the tears from her cheeks then crossed her arms militantly.

“What about
Grey
?”  Jen asked, trying to sound annoyed by having to say his name.

Beth launched into the explanation of what had transpired.

“This is crazy.  That old woman has been drinking too many Kir Royals.  The champagne has gone to her head,” Jen snorted.

“She’s perfectly sound and should be taken seriously,” Blaze said as he walked into the kitchen.  He moved to stand beside Tracy and wrapped his arm around her waist.

Tracy thought the gesture was a direct message to Jen.  She suspected that he had heard their conversation.  How could he not?  They were nearly screaming at each other.  And hopefully Jen got the message.

“Grey will leave for Saint-Tropez this evening.  He should be here the day after tomorrow,” Blaze said.

“How did he take the news?”  Beth asked anxiously.

“As well as can be expected.  He’s relieved to at least have a little explanation for what’s been happening,” Blaze said.

“How are you feeling, Beth?  Did you get any sleep?”  Tracy finally had a chance to ask.

“A little,” Beth answered.

“I’m sorry we woke you,” Tracy apologized.

“It’s alright.  I would rather be awake,” Beth said.  She moved to sit out on the balcony.

Jen grabbed her shopping bags from the salon and went into her bedroom.  That left Tracy and Blaze in the kitchen.  He slid his other arm around her and dipped his head to kiss her.

It was a loving, tender kiss.  Tracy responded immediately and leaned into him; returning the caress eagerly.  They finally parted, both breathing heavily.

“Will you have dinner with me?”  Blaze rasped.  “At my place?”

Tracy was tempted but shook her head negatively.

“I don’t want to leave Beth alone,” she murmured.

“Jen will be here with her,” Blaze said.

“Jen will not make the greatest companion right now.  The way she’s feeling, she could end up leaving Beth here alone just to be nasty,” Tracy said.  “I’ll feel better about leaving her when Grey gets here.”

He sighed.

“You’re right.  I’m being a bit selfish.  I want you to myself,” he said.

“I want to be with you as well.  Be patient.  It will happen,” she smiled.

“Patience is not one of my strong suits; but I’ll try,” he said.  “In the meantime, there’s no reason why I can’t indulge my senses by kissing you.”

She laughed.

“None whatsoever,” she quipped.

He did just that.

*****

Hélène entered the castle, Victory’s End, in Franche Comté.  It had been a long journey and she was exhausted.  She wasn’t a young girl anymore and these trips were long and fatiguing.  She had one foot on the bottom step of the grand staircase when she heard a loathsome voice.

“The prodigal son returns.  Or should I say the prodigal daughter.  That is more accurately descriptive.”

Hélène turned her head to look at her brother-in-law, Claude Lemaire.  He was a tall, razor thin man with an angular face.  He had sharp, dark eyes and a long, pointed nose.  He always reminded Hélène of the male version of the wicked witch.

She hadn’t trusted Claude since the day she met him fifty-three years earlier; on the day of her wedding.  And she still didn’t trust him.  He was a sneaky reprobate who would have sucked his brother dry had she not put a stop to it. 

She had convinced her husband, Marceau, to cut him off and Claude hated her for it.  But although Claude couldn’t get any more money, he was allowed to reside at the castle.  And he took full advantage of that fact, running the help ragged with his every whim and being an overall nuisance to anyone within earshot.  How she wished that Claude lay on his deathbed instead of Marceau; if only karma would truly prevail.

“I have returned, Claude.  I must check on Marceau,” she said curtly.  She climbed two steps only to be waylaid.

“He is much the same; wasting away on the path to meet his maker,” Claude said callously.

Hélène turned on him.

“How can you be so unfeeling?  Marceau is your brother!”  she cried.

“So he is.  A very ungenerous one at that.  But I have
you
to thank for the tightening of his purse strings,” Claude sneered.

“Money!  Is that all you can think about?”  she asked, disgusted by the fact that this man was a member of her family.

“What else is there to think about?  It’s what makes life worth living.  If you have an abundance of it, like you do, you have no worries.  If you have none, you live a measly, hopeless existence.  You know, like mine,” he said.  There was a hard edge beneath his words.

“You are
far
from impoverished, Claude.  Marceau has taken care of you quite well.  You’ve wanted for nothing,” Hélène hissed.

“Yet I’m virtually a prisoner here without the means to go and do as I please,” he countered.

“You can go and do whatever you like.  You have an ample allowance,” she returned.

“That will take me all the way to the estate gate and back!”  he snapped.

“You ungrateful leach!  You deserve nothing more,” she retorted.

“But I’ll
have
more.  It’s only a matter of time,” he smirked.

He turned and wandered back into the living room.  With his back to her, he lit a cigar and blew out a large cloud of smoke, well aware that she forbade smoking in the house.  Then he spun on his heels to reveal the big smile his immature act had brought to his face.

She stomped up the steps in frustration.  There was nothing more to say at the moment.  But she swore she would throw him out if it was the last thing she ever did.  

When she arrived at her suite, she immediately went into her husband’s rooms.  As she entered he turned his head and smiled.

“Hello, my darling!  I am so glad that you’ve returned,” he greeted her.

Hélène moved swiftly to him and sat on the edge of the bed.

“How do you feel, my love?  You look well,” she marveled.

“I feel good.  Perhaps this latest medicine is working.  I feel stronger,” Marceau smiled.

She grasped his hand and brought it to her lips in a fervent kiss.  She looked at his smiling face and thought how handsome he was, even at his advanced age. 

At seventy-two he still had most of his hair.  It was completely white now but that only made him appear distinguished.  His grey eyes were still clear and void of any cloudiness.  He had a strong, proud chin and the straight Lemaire nose.

She had been the envy of every young girl in her youth for landing such a handsome and wealthy catch. But, of course, she didn’t see him as a just a ‘catch’.  She just saw him as the man she loved and felt lucky that he loved her in return.

“Oh, I am so glad.  You do look much better.  Has anyone noticed your improvement?”  she asked.

“Only Margot and she will not speak of it to anyone,” Marceau said, speaking of her longtime maidservant and closest companion.  “She knows we cannot trust anyone.”

“And do you still believe that your sudden illness was the result of someone trying to poison you?”  she asked.

“Yes, my heart.  I believe it even more strongly now,” he said.  “I tried to dismiss the notion but, since I’ve only been eating food that we’ve been having secretly brought in from the village, I feel better.”

Hélène moved to look in the small refrigerator that was kept in his room.  She frowned when she saw that it needed to be replenished.  She moved back to the bed.

“I will go to the market tomorrow to restock the fridge.  I’ll bring Margot, of course, so no one will become suspicious,” Hélène said.

“Come.  Lie beside me, Hélène,” Marceau invited.

She stretched out beside him and laid her head on his shoulder.

“I am so happy you are improving.  My prayers are being answered,” she said softly.

“I have you next to me.  How could I
not
get better?”  he smiled.  “Was your trip to Saint-Tropez successful?”

“I think so,” she said.  She went on to give him a detailed description of all that had happened.

“So Greyson will come?”  Marceau asked quietly.

“I believe so.  That was the impression I was given,” she said.

“It is hard to believe that he will come.  I was beginning to give up on the idea of ever seeing him,” Marceau said softly.  “I’ve never laid eyes on him, you know.  I wonder what he looks like.”

“I’m sure he carries the same devilishly handsome looks of the Lemaire family.  You will recognize him instantly,” Hélène smiled.

He hugged her tightly.

“I cannot wait to see him.  I have so much to tell him.  There’s so much for us to learn about each other,” Marceau said.  “I just want the time to do so.”

“You will have that time.  It is your fate to know your grandson,” Hélène said.

“I hope you are right,” he murmured.

“I am always right,” she chuckled.

He laughed with her.

“That you are, my darling.  Indeed you are,” he whispered.

*****

Grey rode in the cab and thought about all that Blaze had told him.  It was hard to process the enormity of what was occurring.  Up until a week ago his life had been going smoothly.  He was with the woman of his dreams and his career was skyrocketing.  He was branching off into other areas of property development and there was no limit as to where he could soar.  Now he was receiving threats from an unknown source and traveling to France to see a woman who claims to be his paternal grandmother.

He knew his parents were French but that’s about all he knew.  They never spoke of their past or of relatives and it had been a long time since Grey and his brother had tired of having their questions ignored.  As he grew older he realized that they must have been protecting them from something.  And although he would have like to have known more about his heritage, he decided to simply leave it alone.  He had his brother, Fabien, who was married with three kids, and that would have to be enough.

His parents had died several years earlier in an auto accident.  Though small, his family had been extremely tight and the loss had been very difficult for him.  But over time he had come to terms with the loss and looked forward to starting a family of his own with Beth.

He looked out of the cab’s window at the picturesque town of Saint-Tropez and understood why tourists flocked to it.  It was beautiful, quaint and very scenic.  The sea seemed to beckon you to share in its beauty.

The massive yachts moored at the quay stood elegant and powerful.  He wanted to rent one of them and take the family on an excursion.  But that outing would have to wait until he had dealt with the issue that brought him to France in the first place.

The cab arrived at Le Chateau de Marie Villa.  The driver hopped out of the car to remove Grey’s suitcase from the boot.  Grey exited the car and paid the cabbie then climbed the steps to the entrance.  As he raised his fist to knock, the door swung open and Beth propelled herself onto his chest.  He dropped his bag and embraced her tightly.

“Grey!  I have missed you so much,” Beth exclaimed.

He lowered his head and kissed her fiercely.  Grey had longed to hold her in his arms again.  She felt so good; smelled so sweet, tasted like delectable nectar.  He swore he would never let her out of his sight again.  She pulled back and grinned up at him.

“We should be separated more often if that’s the reception I’ll get,” she teased.

“Not on your life.  I’ve nearly gone insane rambling about that cabin without you in it,” he smiled.  “You will not be leaving me again—ever.”

She giggled as she pulled him into the house.

“Thank you for renting this villa for us.  It fabulous,” she said.

“It was my pleasure.  I wanted you guys to be comfortable,” he said as he looked around the room.

“We are more than comfortable.  And Saint-Tropez is amazing.  I just wish nothing had occurred to mar our stay here,” she said dismally.

He turned to face her.

“Hélène Lemaire,” he said.

“Yes.  What she has suggested is crazy.  But if it’s true then you are in grave danger.  What are we going to do,” she asked.

Grey liked that she said ‘we’.  She included herself in his problem.  A lot of women would turn tail and run for their lives in a similar situation.  But Beth was showing that she would stand by him no matter what.  His love for her grew even greater.

“We’re going to go to Victory’s End to see if Hélène Lemaire is really my grandmother.  And if she is, then we will face whatever awaits us,” he said.  He crossed the room and embraced her.  “Don’t worry. Nothing is going to happen to me. If someone wanted to harm me, they already could have.  And if they plan to, Blaze and I will deal with them. Everything will be alright, Beth.”

“You cannot guarantee that,” she whispered.

“I can and I do,” he said.  Grey cupped her face and tilted it upward.  “Trust me, babe.  We’ll get to the bottom of this and I will be fine.”

She stared into his crystal clear, grey eyes.  They were shining bright with love.  She hoped that the love that they shared would be enough to see them through.

She slowly nodded. She had to show him that she believed in what he said.  Worrying about her was the last thing that he needed on his plate.