Authors: Lynsay Sands
“You are an evil woman, Eshe.” Armand chuckled, winding the hand holding hers behind her back to draw her nearer. “I like it.”
“Good, because you’re stuck with me,” she said softly, leaning against his chest and toying with the buttons there with her free hand as she glanced down at the puppy.
“Eshe?” he said quietly.
“Hmm?” She raised her gaze to his in query.
“Your name means life.”
She smiled crookedly. “I know.”
“I’m sure you did,” he said easily. “But I didn’t until I looked it up on the Internet last night. Eshe means life and d’Aureus means gold. It’s fitting. You’re my golden girl who saved my son’s life and gave me back my life as well. I’m very very grateful,” he assured her.
Eshe’s eyes sparkled, a wicked smile curving her lips as she said, “Good. You can show me just how grateful when we get back to the hotel.” When Armand chuckled at the suggestion, and urged her closer to press against him, she added, “And then I’ll show you how grateful I am that you brought joy and color back into my life.”
“I love you,” Armand said, smiling.
“And I love you,” she assured him.
They kissed again, this time the kiss deepening until they heard the door open again and Lucian bellowed, “Goddammit, isn’t that dog done yet? The natives are getting restless in here.”
Armand pulled back with a sigh, and turned a scowl on his brother. “We’re coming. He’s nearly done.”
Muttering under his breath, Lucian stomped back inside and slammed the door with some vigor.
“Maybe we should go in now,” Eshe said wryly, her gaze dropping to Lucky, who had come over and plopped to sit on their feet where there shoes were toe to toe. “I think he’s done now.”
“Hmm.” Armand looked down at the puppy as she eased away from him, but didn’t immediately make a move to go inside. Instead, he glanced toward the door and swallowed the sudden ball of dread in his throat.
“You’re nervous,” Eshe said with surprise, taking in his expression.
“What if she hates me?” Armand asked with a grimace. “I’m a stranger to her, and as far as she knows, I just dumped her on her aunt like unwanted garbage. And then there’s Nicholas. He might blame me for—”
“Your daughter isn’t going to hate you,” Eshe interrupted quietly. “They were already speculating that you’d sent her away to keep her safe before I was sent to you. She knows. And Nicholas will not blame you for anything. None of it was your fault.”
Armand sucked in a breath and nodded, then allowed her to lead him to the door, the puppy following happily on his lead. Once there, Armand stepped forward to open the door for her, pausing when it swung open to reveal Lucian on the other side.
“Finally,” his brother muttered with disgust. “Come on.”
Armand shook his head and ushered Eshe and Lucky in, but when he urged her to follow Lucian, she shook her head and gestured for him to go first. Straightening his shoulders, he moved after Lucian, pausing when the other man stopped in a doorway, blocking his entrance.
“Well?” someone asked from inside. “How did you find out Nicholas was innocent? Who killed Annie and the mortal? Are you going to tell us now or what?”
Armand smiled faintly as he recognized Thomas’s voice, but his smile disappeared abruptly when Lucian answered, “No. I’m going to let your father do that.”
And then Lucian was stepping aside, leaving him the focus of several pairs of curious eyes. Armand slid his gaze around the room, recognizing his sister-in-law Marguerite and guessing the dark-haired man at her side was her life mate, Julius. He’d heard the tale of the man who had replaced Lucian’s twin but not yet met the man. He spotted Bricker and Anders by Leigh as Lucian moved to stand behind her chair and offered all three a faint smile, and then his gaze swung to Nicholas in another chair at the opposite end of the room. There was a German shepherd curled up at his feet, and a cute brunette on his lap, his Jo. They exchanged smiles, and then Armand recognized Mortimer standing behind their seat with another brunette, this one similar in looks to the girl on Nicholas’s lap. She would be Jo’s sister and Mortimer’s life mate, Sam, he guessed, noting that she was unhealthily skinny. But he knew she’d put off the turn for a bit and suspected the nanos would take care of that when she was finally ready.
Finally his gaze slid to the people on the couch in the middle. Thomas and his mate, Inez; she was more attractive in person than in the pictures, he noted, smiling at them, and then finally he turned his gaze to the dark-haired woman at the other end of the couch. She looked just like her mother, Rosamund, and he sighed her name, “Jeanie.”
“My name’s Jeanne Louise, sir,” she said a bit stiffly, as if suspecting he didn’t know it.
Armand hesitated, but then Eshe gave him a little nudge and he caught her hand and moved across the room to stand in front of this daughter he hadn’t seen in a century. Peering down at her, he cleared a suddenly tight throat and said, “We named you Jeanne Louise, but your mother and I called you Jeanie while we had you when you were a baby, and I’ve thought of you as Jeanie ever since.”
“Oh,” she murmured uncertainly, looking as if she didn’t know what to do or say.
Armand could sympathize, he was unsure himself, but Eshe squeezed his hand reassuringly and he cleared his throat again and said, “I’m very glad to finally be able to meet you, Jeanie. The pictures Nicholas and then Thomas sent me when I asked for them over the years just weren’t the same as being in your life. I’m sorry I missed seeing you walk for the first time, and talk for the first time, and I would have really liked to be at your graduation. You looked beautiful in your blue dress. I wish I’d been there to tell you how proud I was and that your mother would have been too. I—”
Armand stopped on a grunt as Jeanne Louise suddenly catapulted upward off the couch, throwing herself at him. He released Eshe to catch his daughter to his chest, felt her body quake with silent sobs, and closed his eyes as he held his daughter for the first time since she was just months old.
“You’ll be there for other important occasions,” she said in a voice muffled by his chest. “You can walk me down the aisle when I meet my life mate, and you can pick him up when he faints at the birth of our first child, and…and just all that stuff,” she assured him, patting his shoulder as if he were the one needing the comforting.
“You’re upsetting my Leigh, Armand,” Lucian said suddenly, sounding put out. “Sit down and put Nicholas out of his misery.”
“He isn’t upsetting me, darling,” Leigh said in a watery voice. “I’m just crying because I’m happy for Jeanne Louise.”
“So am I.” Marguerite sighed.
“And me,” Inez added, and Armand glanced around to see that all the women were wiping away tears. Even Eshe had glassy eyes.
“He’s right though,” Jeanne Louise murmured, pulling away to wipe her face. “We should let you tell us who framed Nicholas.”
Catching his hand, she sat down, tugging at him to sit beside her. Armand caught Eshe’s hand again as he dropped onto the couch beside his daughter, pulling her off balance and down with him. Thomas started to laugh and shifted Inez onto his lap to make room for them all to crowd together, and then Armand simply sat there for a moment, his gaze sliding from Jeanne Louise to Eshe as he squeezed each hand he held. He then glanced at the rest of the people in the room and for a moment was overwhelmed. It had been a long time since he’d been surrounded by family.
Movement on the ground drew his attention then, distracting him briefly as he saw that Lucky was nosing at the German shepherd. When the bigger dog merely looked at him with disinterest and then laid his head back on his paws, Lucky apparently took that as an invitation and curled up next to him.
Smiling, Armand finally glanced to Nicholas and Jo, who smiled back, their expressions expectant.
Armand hesitated, and then cleared his throat and started with “Your aunt Agnes sends her love.”
Turn the page for a sneak peek of
LYNSAY SANDS’S
Available December 2010
From
Avon Books
“You have to be kidding me.” Alex Willan stared
at the man standing on the other side of her desk. Peter Cunningham, or Pierre as he preferred to be called, was her head cook. He was also short, bearded, and had beady little eyes. She’d always thought he resembled a weasel, but never so much as she did at that moment. “You can’t quit just like that. The new restaurant opens in two weeks.”
“Yes I know.” He gave her a sad little moue. “But really, Alexandra, he is offering a king’s ransom for me to—”
“Of course he is. He’s trying to ruin me,” she snapped.
Peter shrugged. “Well, if you were to beat their offer…”
Alex’s eyes narrowed. She couldn’t help noticing that he’d said beat rather than match or even come close. The little creep really was a weasel with no loyalty at all…but she needed him.
“How much?” she asked sharply, barely managing to keep from hyperventilating at the amount he murmured. Dear God, that was three times what she was paying him and twice what she could afford…which he knew, of course. It was a ridiculous sum. No chef earned that, and he wasn’t worth it. Peter was good, but not that good. It didn’t make any sense that Jacques Tournier, the owner of Chez Joie, would offer him that much. But then Alex could suddenly see what the plan was. Jacques was luring the man away in a deliberate attempt to leave her high and dry. He’d keep him on for two or three weeks, just long enough to cause scads of trouble for her, then he’d fire him under some pretext or other.
Alex opened her mouth, prepared to warn Pierre, but the smug expression on his face stopped her. Peter had always been an egotistical bastard. It was bad enough when he was only the sous chef, but in the short time since she’d promoted him to head chef, his ego had grown to ten times its previously bloated state. No, she thought with a sigh, he wouldn’t believe her. He’d think it just sour grapes.
“I know you can’t afford it,” Peter said pityingly. Then with something less than sympathy he added, “Just admit it so I can stop wasting my time and get out of here.”
Alex’s mouth tightened. “Well, if you knew, why even bother suggesting it?”
“I didn’t want you to think I was totally without loyalty,” he admitted with a shrug. “Were you to beat their offer, I would have stayed.”
“Thanks,” she said dryly.
“
De rien
,” he said, and turned toward the door.
Alex almost let him walk out, but her conscience got the better of her. Whether he’d believe her or not, she had to at least try to warn him that he was setting himself up for a fall. Once Jacques fired him—and she didn’t doubt for a minute he would—Peter would be marked. The entire industry would know that he’d left her for them, then lost that job. Even if people didn’t suspect the truth of what happened and labeled him a putrid little weasel, they would think he’d been fired for
something
.
Alex had barely begun to speak her thoughts, however, before Peter was shaking his head. Still, she rushed on with it, warning him as her conscience dictated. The moment she fell silent, he sneered at her derisively.
“I knew you would be upset, Alexandra, but making up such a ridiculous story to get me to stay is just sad. The truth is, I have been selling myself cheap for some time now. I’ve built up a reputation as an amazing chef these last several weeks while cooking in your stead—”
“Two weeks,” Alex corrected impatiently. “It’s only been two weeks since I promoted you to head chef. And you’re cooking
my
recipes, not coming up with brilliant ones of your own. Surely you can see how ridiculous it is that someone would pay you that kind of money for—”
“No, I do not see it as ridiculous. I am brilliant. Jacques sees my potential and that I deserve to be paid my value. But you obviously don’t. You have been trying to keep me under. Now I will get paid what I deserve and enjoy some of the profits produced by my skills.” Mouth tightening, he added, “And you’re not going to trick me into staying here with such stupid stories.”
With a little sniff of disgust, Peter turned on his heel and sailed out of her office with his nose up and a self-righteous air that made her want to gag.
Alex closed her eyes. At the moment, she wanted nothing more than to yell a string of obscenities after the man. She would definitely enjoy his fall when it came. Unfortunately, her own fall would come first.
Cursing, she pulled her Rolodex toward her and began to rifle through the numbers. Perhaps one of her old friends from culinary school could help for a night or two. Christ, she was ruined if she didn’t find someone quickly.
An hour later, Alex reached the Ws in her Rolodex with no prospects when the phone rang. Irritated with the interruption when she was having a crisis, Alex snapped it up. She barked “hello,” the fingers of her free hand still flipping through the Rolodex cards one after the other in quick succession.