Untrue Colors (Entangled Select Suspense) (21 page)

“Be my guest. In fact, I’d prefer it if you kept him entertained every night until you’re replaced with an eighteen-year-old centerfold.”

“My dear Mrs. Perrault, he’ll never be bored with me.” Nicola leaned against the counter and took a sip of tea, a woman in for the duration.

The rusty gears in Pascal’s pea-sized brain must have kicked in, because he stepped between them as if breaking up a bar fight. The realization that Luc’s wife and mistress maybe shouldn’t cross paths finally dawned on him. “You won’t be seeing much of each other. Mrs. Perrault will be staying in her room until her husband returns.”

He reached down and lifted Alex off the ground, clasping her crutches in one of his giant hands. A quick exit to separate the sparring women. Perhaps Pascal’s mistake would cause him to end up at the bottom of the Seine. A cheerful thought.

“Tell Luc to keep out of my room when you see him.” She waved to Nicola as Pascal hustled her from the kitchen.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Simon never demanded anything from Henry. So when he told Henry to fly direct to Charles de Gaulle instead of Heathrow, Henry found the quickest route and jumped on a plane.

The taxi dropped him off at a low-budget hotel a few blocks from one of the seedier sections in Paris. A half-lit neon sign advertised the Hotel Dupré, a beige stone establishment covered in soot and grime. He scanned the deserted neighborhood for any sign of life. A lack of cafés, restaurants, and storefronts kept tourists away from this small, dark back street. After paying the driver, he lifted the two suitcases he’d been lugging around since Atlanta and headed to the entrance.

The room on the third floor appeared as dirty and gray as the outside facade of the building. Simon opened the door for his brother. He blended well into the environment in worn jeans and a black T-shirt, and carrying a cold beer in his hand.

His expression at seeing Henry’s bruised face courtesy of the Northrop security team wasn’t pity. It bordered on amusement. “What happened to you?”

“I met Alex’s family.”

Simon grinned and handed Henry the beer, grabbing another from a cooler under the window without a view. “I’m glad you’re in one piece and could make it here. We have a lot to discuss.”

“Starting with Alex’s true identity.” Henry took a swig of the cold beer. The drink slid down his throat, giving him a needed touch of nourishment.

“Boston blue blood. It fits her profile.”

Henry shook his head. “I’m supposed to be the expert on reading people, but you predicted this outcome. How the hell did I miss all the signs?”

“I was thinking with my head, and your brains had migrated below your belt, a rare occurrence for you. I, on the other hand, have years of experience thinking with my knob.” Simon rummaged around near the closet and tossed a bag of chips to Henry, opening a jar of nuts for himself. “I can’t believe you traveled all the way to her father’s house in Massachusetts, and he gave you the cold shoulder. Although if someone had just murdered my head of security, I suppose I’d be apprehensive, too.”

Sitting on the chair, Henry took another swig, put the bottle on the floor, and opened the chips. “Mr. Northrop, like the all-powerful Oz, acted a good game, but couldn’t help me, or wouldn’t. He thinks I’m a gold digger. Imagine that.”

“Not impressed by the title?”

“He referred to me as Mr. Chilton. I guess his corporate billions trump my castle and the reproduction of a Lawrence portrait.” He bit into a chip and spit it out. “What the hell is this?”

“Soft-shell-crab-flavored chips.” Sitting on the unmade bed, Simon stretched his legs out and rested them on a pile of laundry.

“Dear God. Warn me when you hand me something inedible. Give me the nuts. They are regular nuts?”

Simon threw Henry the package. “Salted almonds.”

“Alex’s patronizing father doesn’t matter in any of this. She hasn’t been in touch with him since her first year in university. As far as I’m concerned, he’s a nonentity in this search. My priority is Alex. She went to Atlanta to help me and ran right into Luc. I can’t believe I compromised her safety for the bloody painting. And for what? She’s gone. The painting’s gone. Everything’s a mess.” He tried to distance himself from the image of her fighting with Luc on the beach. It could have been someone else, but probably wasn’t. She was right, he was no hero. He’d led her into harm without any protection.

Simon scrubbed a hand through his hair and turned his focus to his beer. “If I’d known the trouble this would cause, I never would have used it.”

“Used it?”

Simon sighed. “When you transferred the painting to Oxford, I assumed you didn’t care for it, so I borrowed it. The restoration company you used is known for creating reproductions. The transaction provided us the opportunity to track the authentic pieces to illegitimate auction houses and online brokers. I would have eventually returned it to your house once we’d finished with it.”

“
You
switched my picture?” Henry’s knuckles whitened around the beer bottle.

Simon glanced down at the floor and kicked an old sock toward the chair. “I’m trying to get it back.”

Heart racing, Henry shoved back the chair and dived onto his brother. Simon tossed his beer bottle away from the bed and shifted over to avoid Henry’s full assault.

Fists flew. Henry punched Simon in the gut. Simon reacted by kicking him onto the floor, where he landed on his ass and skidded into the wall shoulder-first. The pain rocketed through his body. He should stop, but Simon hadn’t suffered enough yet.

Simon stood by the window. One of his hands clutched his stomach. “Don’t.”

Henry pushed off the wall and lunged at Simon’s torso. He slammed into his older and larger brother, knocking him into the door. He was winded, but ready for more.

Simon, however, raised his hands in an unimpressive surrender. His breathing was heavy and a grimace appeared on his face. “Feel better?”

The pain in Henry’s shoulder flared. “Sod off.”

Simon returned to sitting on the bed. “You’re allowed to be mad at me, but I’m on your side. If you’d stayed calm for one minute, I would have told you Alex’s current location.”

Henry’s head twisted in Simon’s direction, his focus returning to Alex. “Where is she?”

“She’s with Luc at his house on the right bank.”

In Paris?

“How the hell do you know that?” He didn’t know whether to continue his grudge against his brother or give him a hug.

“I have someone on the inside who has seen her.”

Henry’s proximity to her destroyed his patience. His heart raced and his chest tightened.

“Is she all right? Is she there against her will?”

“We have to take this slow and investigate. Breaking down a door without all the facts will not only put her life at risk, but it will blow my cover and that of my partner.”

“If Alex is at risk, she needs help now.”

“As I’d said before, I have someone on the inside monitoring the situation. If she’s at risk, we’ll get her out. If you were leading a group in a rescue mission, would you make a plan or run in like a teenager fueled on testosterone?”

Henry rubbed sweat off his face. Simon was right. Henry had received decorations while in the Royal Navy for his well-planned and -executed missions. Acting without thinking had never been acceptable in the SBS. With a deep breath, he placed his trust in his brother again. “What do you have in mind?”

…

After a night locked in her bedroom, Alex was allowed to enjoy April in Paris in the courtyard. The warm sun provided her with additional fortitude to survive the coming weeks.

Pascal stood guard over her. She’d prefer Serge, but he’d disappeared. He could be anywhere assisting Luc with some other deal or dead from an act of incompetence.

With her hurt leg propped up on a chair and a steaming cup of coffee in front of her, Alex could almost imagine sitting in the rose garden in Ripon annoying Henry. He must hate her for running away with no warning. Yet it was her only option if she was to protect her family. Although the physical connection was gone, emotionally, she was more tied to him than ever. Since the minute she’d stepped into the stairwell in Atlanta, she’d harbored an empty feeling in her gut that no food would ever satisfy and no drink would ever quench. If her brain could convince her heart to sever the emotional connection, she’d be stronger and more able to complete her task.

The door to the house opened. Nicola walked out carrying a cup of coffee. Her hooker outfit of the day included black stilettos and a blue wrap dress that opened enough to showcase her fake breasts. Pascal’s eyes wandered over her body as though stripping her down and taking notes.

Alex pasted on her bitch smile. “Get lucky last night? I sure did. Luc never showed up in my room.”

Nicola sat in the chair opposite Alex, more than an arm’s length away. “I’m surprised you didn’t hear me at least one of the seven or eight times he brought me over the edge. I tend to scream a lot.”

“Too busy sleeping. Thank God for pain medication.”

Pascal appeared amused at their hostility. He leaned against the side of the house to enjoy the show. Luc must like the idea of his wife and mistress interacting, because Pascal saw no need to separate them this morning.

Nicola took a huge guzzle of her coffee, as though she were downing a shot of tequila. “Pascal, darling, could you be a dear and get me another cup of coffee with cream.”

Alex tipped her own cup toward him in a toast. “I’d ask, too, since I’m the invalid and not simply lazy, but I’d rather you not poison me today.”

Pascal walked over to Nicola and ignored Alex.

Alex pushed. “Perhaps Nicky here would like to eat with the kitchen staff. She is paid by the hour, isn’t she?”

“Take your time, Pascal. I find this minger quite entertaining.” Nicola lounged in her chair and rested her elbow on the table.

Pascal chuckled and left for the kitchen.

Alex dropped the smile, her focus turned serious as though she were appraising a painting. She hoped her assessment of Nicola was in the ballpark of her real worth. Humans, however, rarely provided as much value as anticipated.

“Are you Simon’s Nicola?”

“I’m not owned, possessed, or enslaved by anyone. I may, however, know a Simon or two.” A nonanswer. The sexpot had transformed into a corporate shark with negotiating skills. “Are you Henry’s Gabe?”

Bingo. She had to be Simon’s Nicola, or she’d never have known about Gabe. Hearing Henry’s name, however, stunned her, but she held her face emotionless. She wanted to trust her, but chickened out to protect Henry. “Gabe? Never heard of her or Henry for that matter.”

“Interesting.” Nicola tapped her hand on the table as if she were bored. “If you want a friend, contact me. I can help.”

She couldn’t risk Nicola getting hurt. “I don’t need help, just some time to recuperate.”

Nicola raised an eyebrow after glancing toward Alex’s cast. “You’re in way over your head.”

“I have my reasons for staying.” She looked over at the door to make sure Pascal hadn’t returned. “Why are you here? Luc doesn’t let his girlfriends walk away without bruises or a body bag.”

“Luc’s amusing and useful to me right now. And the sex with him is even worth tolerating your presence.”

“I see my two ladies are enjoying each other’s company. How disturbing.” Luc, speaking in English, stood by the open door. Had he heard their exchange?

Alex glared at her captor’s approach. “If I’d known you already had a housemate, I would have asked for my own place.”

Nicola laughed. “As long as he comes to me at night, I’m not complaining.”

Luc rubbed Nicola’s shoulders and kissed her. Deeply. Nicola moaned. Did he think Alex would be jealous watching him stick his tongue down Nicola’s throat?
Au contraire
, it made her thankful for Nicola’s presence.

“It’s amazing how disgusting kissing sounds when you’re not actually involved. Perhaps it’s your technique, Luc. You never were that good with your tongue.” She watched them pull apart after her comments.

He shifted from Nicola to his wife. His hands were positioned with his thumbs on the softest area of Alex’s neck. “I’d watch what you say. You don’t want me to be widowed too soon.”

“Don’t harm the witch, sweetheart. I prefer being a mistress to a girlfriend. It has more cachet. Besides, maybe we can convince her to join us after her cast comes off,” Nicola purred.

His hands loosened, and he stepped back to Nicola. “I like how you think.”

“Perverted and slutty?” Alex asked.

“Sexy and alluring,” Nicola replied and leaned into Luc’s embrace.

Pascal returned with Nicola’s coffee and placed it in front of her.

“Nicola, I must speak to my
wife
for a few minutes alone. I bought you a present during my last trip. It’s hanging in the west gallery. Enjoy.” Luc then turned to Pascal. “You can leave as well.”

With a stiff nod, Pascal disappeared into the house. Luc pulled Nicola’s chair out and kissed her good-bye. His hands lifted under her dress. How charming. Groping the girlfriend in front of the wife.

After Nicola left the patio, Luc went over to the door and shut it. He strolled back to Alex with his phone in his hand and switched to French, his preferred language with Alex. “You’re not a very obedient wife. In fact, you’re turning into quite the liability. If I were you, I would try harder to obey me and show me proper respect in front of others.”

“It’s hard to respect someone I loathe.”

“You’ll need to get over this dislike of me sooner rather than later. Physical punishment hasn’t been effective to tame your tongue. You don’t seem to care if we beat you to death.” He tapped on her cast. “You’re tougher than I gave you credit for, but you should think of others when deciding what toxic words will exit your mouth.”

The images of Danielle and her boyfriend’s brutal death flashed into her mind, the sound of bullets taking down Matt, and the red light signifying the security guard’s last moment. Alex felt light-headed. She didn’t want any more violence around her unless it involved Luc. She remained silent, removing all emotion from her face as well.

Luc’s fingers caressed her cheek. “You give me instant compliance when I reach out to your bleeding heart. How pathetic. Too bad you didn’t shut your mouth sooner.” He placed the cell phone with an internet news story in front of her eyes. “Tragic about your niece.”

“My niece?” The bottom fell from her stomach, and her eyes betrayed her fear by filling with tears.

Daughter of Northrop heiress hurt in hit-and-run accident. The driver has not been located. The four-year-old child was listed in critical condition at Massachusetts General Hospital.

Rachel?
Bile burned her throat. Anna must be going crazy with worry.

“Alive, but who knows for how long.” He smirked.

She spun on him and grabbed his hand. “Please. Leave my family alone. Please.”

“Start acting like you want them to live, and no one else will get hurt.” He yanked his arm away, removed the tragic news report from her view, took a sip of her coffee, and then left her alone to cry.