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Authors: Sally Clements

BOOK: Bound To Love
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‘When?’ she whispered.

If Carter had been sober, the cold edge in her voice might have warned him that he was on shaky ground. But he was so drunk nothing registered at all. His face was blank. Getting information out of him was easy, he held nothing back.

‘After Jake called me the first night. The day before I gave him the tracking devices.’

Blood rushed from Tempest’s face and her legs wobbled. The sound of the party faded, and white noise filled her ears. She stared at Carter, disbelieving. But there was no guile in his face, he was telling the truth. Jake had told her he couldn’t get through. He’d lied. Her heart thumped in an irregular rhythm. Her intuition had screamed at her to be careful, but she disregarded it. Bile rose in her throat.

I should have known better. I should have listened to my gut
.

‘Red?’

Jake was there. He reached for her, and she jerked away, unable to bear his touch after what Carter had revealed.

‘Tempest?’ Jake stepped closer, alarm in his expression. Tempest glanced away, willing her feet to take her away from all this, away from
him
. ‘What happened?’

When she didn’t respond he started on Carter. ‘What did you say to her?’

‘We were just talking about the security report.’

Carter slowly looked from one to the other, a dawning look of realization spreading across his features. ‘Oh no.’ His head sank into his hands. ‘ She didn’t know, did she?’

‘She does now,’ Tempest muttered. Her heart ached with Jake’s betrayal. She glanced around, searching for a way out.

‘Let’s find Smith, and get out of here.’ Jake grasped her elbow, but Tempest pulled away, shaking her head. She wasn’t going anywhere with him. Pain welled up and tears threatened. His tone brooked no argument. ‘You have to come with me, Tempest.’

Jake waved the coffee-carrying waiter over to Carter and quickly said goodbye to his mother. Like an automaton, Tempest sought out Daniel and Skye and made her goodbyes. ‘Call you tomorrow,’ she whispered, knowing it would be a long time before she felt able to discuss this latest heartbreak with anyone, least of all her starry-eyed sister.

They sat in icy silence in the car. Back at Jake’s place, Tempest strode into the master bedroom while Jake showed Officer Smith where he would be sleeping. She pulled on her nightgown and brushed her teeth, then took her hairbrush and climbed into bed. She brushed her hair with long strokes, the repetitive motion going some way to soothe her. She was bruised. Like a prize-fighter who’d taken too many punches, there was no more fight left in her. The door opened slowly and Jake came in.

She stared at him wordlessly. It was too hard to go through this now. Too painful.

‘Tempest. Let me explain.’

She didn’t want him to make everything alright, didn’t want to be charmed. Her voice sounded flat and emotionless.
Good
. ‘You lied to me.’

‘Yes I did, but it was before I really knew you. My mother was in danger and I had to know…’

‘Whether I was involved or not.’

‘It was the logical thing to do. I had to protect her.’

At least he wasn’t denying Carter’s drunken outpourings. And he wasn’t trying to make it better either. He just stood there, waiting for her answer, accepting of whatever fate she decided to mete out. She ran the brush through her hair again, needing to know. ‘So, when we made love the first time?’

‘I’d received the report clearing you and your family.’ He walked towards her, sitting down on the bed and covering her hand with his own. ‘I knew I could trust you.’

Because you’d run a security check on me.
She looked into his eyes and saw his regret for hurting her written clearly there.

‘It was the logical thing to do.’ She didn’t know whether she was repeating the words for his benefit or her own, as her stomach sank. She’d believed in him from the moment she’d first seen him, never doubted his motives. But he wasn’t like her, nobody was. It should have hurt that he hadn’t trusted her, but it didn’t. There was a space in her chest where her heart once lived. An empty space.

‘Yes.’ He leant forward and tried to kiss her. She turned her face away. ‘Please, Red. We can get past this. I want you to come to Paris with me, the police say it’ll be a lot safer than staying here.’

‘What about Paul?’

‘He won’t be able to leave the country. All ports are on high alert looking for him and Smith says he will coordinate things with the Gendarmerie. They won’t guard us, but we’ll have a hotline in case of any trouble.’

His eyes searched hers as he waited for her answer.
Stay here alone, or go to France with Jake
. Normally her intuition would chime in, a little internal voice telling her which way she should go, which path to take. It was silent, for the first time ever.

She was on her own.

 

Chapter Nine

 

The flight to Paris was quick and uneventful and Tempest’s spirits rose as they exited Charles De Gaulle airport. She’d wanted so badly to hold onto her anger. When her mother betrayed her, she’d hugged the hurt to her chest for months, refusing to let go. Jake had tried to talk to her about it, and she’d brushed him off. But the pain in his eyes at hurting her had leaked through her defences.

He hadn’t meant to hurt her. Just didn’t know how to trust. Maybe it wasn’t fair to judge him for that. Maybe they deserved another chance. The sun beat down on her bare shoulders in the yellow cotton sundress, and even the air smelled different, perfumed by clouds of lavender in the flower beds outside the airport.

Jake hailed a taxi, and opened the door for her.

‘You’ve told me nothing,’ she teased, eyeing Jake from behind her sunglasses. ‘Do I even get to know what hotel we’re staying in?’

Jake smiled, rattling off an address to the driver in rapid French.

‘You’ll see.’

The car wove expertly through the busy Paris streets, Jake pointing out landmarks as they went. Paris was light and bright, like the happiness welling up inside her. The sun warmed her skin and the sounds and incredible beauty of Paris saturated her senses. She sighed in delight as the Eiffel Tower came into view.

‘Have you ever seen it before?’ Jake asked. He reached for her hand, and held it on his thigh.

‘Once. When I was a child.’ She couldn’t take her eyes away from the huge metal structure. ‘We came to France on holiday and spent one day in Paris. We did all the tourist sights … Notre Dame, a river-trip on the Seine, the Champs-Élysées, but by the time we got to the Eiffel Tower we’d just about run out of time, so I never got to go up it.’

‘Don’t worry, Red, you will this visit.’

‘Will you have time to come with me?’

Jake had spent the morning on the phone organizing meetings. He was obviously planning to be busy during their three-day stay.

‘I know you have to work, I don’t want to distract you.’

‘You should have thought of that before you said you’d join me.’ The taxi slowed as he whispered in her ear, ‘Because I’m well and truly distracted, believe me.’

They stopped in front of a Paris townhouse.

‘We’re here.’

Tempest climbed out of the taxi in front of a tall white building with beautiful columns and sash windows. The tidy Parisian garden was full of lush camellias and the heavy perfume of roses filled the air. She bent for a moment to breathe in the fragrance of a striped bourbon rose underplanted with clove-scented pinks, in a narrow border next to a glossy green front door.

‘My mother’s apartment is on the top floor.’ Jake pulled a key from his pocket and opened the door, standing to one side to allow her to pass.

Moments later, she stood gazing at Paris from the floor to ceiling windows as Jake checked the apartment over.

‘Is it too early for champagne?’

He held a bottle of Veuve Clicquot by the neck, two glasses dangling casually from the fingers of the other hand.

‘It’s never too early for champagne.’

He filled the glasses with the pale golden liquid, miniscule bubbles bursting into tiny splashes as they hit the surface. Electricity arced as their eyes met and her heart thundered in her chest.

Breathe, girl, breathe.

His fingers brushed hers as he handed her the glass, and she shivered as heat ran up her arm.

‘What have you got planned for this weekend?’ Tempest asked.

She sank down into the deep feather cushions on the white leather sofa. Jake kicked off his shoes and followed her.

‘Well, I think we should drink this champagne, and then I reckon we should go for a lie down. I’m tired after the flight, aren’t you?’

‘Exhausted.’

She bit back a smile; she wasn’t remotely tired, and neither was Jake.

‘Let’s just enjoy being alone, just the two of us, for three whole days,’ he muttered huskily.

Tempest’s heart swelled. She wanted to enjoy it too. If she hadn’t, she would have stayed in London, instead of getting on that flight to Paris with him. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach. He hadn’t trusted her, but it wasn’t personal. Jake wasn’t a man to trust his instincts, he needed proof. Anyway, that was at the beginning of their relationship, before he knew her. The hours spent agonizing over Carter’s revelations faded to a dull ache. Jake was in her blood, in her heart. She wanted him in her future.

‘Shall we take this somewhere else?’

‘Mmm.’ Bubbles tickled her nose as she drained her glass. ‘Are you going to show me the bedroom?’

Now her decision was made, joy leapt and danced at what was to come.

Jake pulled her up from the sofa. He snagged the bottle with his other hand then started down the long corridor.

‘Damn right.’

****

Dusk had settled over the Paris skyline when Tempest woke. Jake was standing next to the bed, holding out a glass of orange juice.

‘Time to wake up, sleepyhead,’ he teased. ‘Drink this and get ready, we’re going out to dinner.’

Half an hour later her high heels were sinking in the sand as they made their way toward the Eiffel Tower. The wind was stiffening, and she pulled the baby-soft pashmina tighter around her shoulders. A small group of people clustered around the tower’s base, waiting patiently for their chance to climb into the bright yellow lift.

‘Over here.’ Jake steered her carefully past the waiting group towards the opposite corner. ‘We’re taking this one.’

The husky tones of Edith Piaf crooned as the transparent structure carried them up into the air; all of Paris spread out like a sparkling carpet of lights below them, through the complicated metal lattice. The first floor of the giant structure came and went as the glass box ascended to the second floor. The doors slid open slowly, and Jake thanked the operator with a quiet ‘
Merci
,’ before ushering her into the Jules Verne Restaurant.

The maître d’ guided them to a table at the window. The breathtaking, uninterrupted view of Paris overloaded Tempest’s senses as she gazed through the glass which was the only thing separating them from the elements. ‘It’s wonderful.’

Jake brushed against her as he pulled out her chair.

Tempest sank down into the beige leather chair without pulling her gaze away. Paris was beautiful, and so were their surroundings. Their intimate table with a white linen tablecloth was set with gleaming silver cutlery. Sparkles of light glittered on the crystal glasses from the muted overhead lighting, and a small votive candle in a square glass cube flickered in the table’s centre. She surrendered her pashmina to the attentive staff, revealing the strapless bodice of her dress which fitted snugly around her torso, above a skirt that flared out to her knees.

‘It’s so beautiful here,’ she murmured.

The ceiling was traced with lights that cast a subtle glow in the room, not strong enough to mirror the windows, so that nothing blocked the panoramic view of Paris.

‘It’s like flying, or being in a hot air balloon. Have you eaten here before?’

‘Once or twice, only for lunch though. The view is very different at night.’

‘Magical.’

‘Yes, magical.’ He was staring at her as if he’d never seen her before. ‘Let’s eat,’ he added. ‘I’m starving.’ He skimmed the menu. ‘Oh great, they have rabasses.’

‘Where?’ The French menu was translated into English, but she couldn’t see what he had indicated, either in the French or English version.

‘Truffles. We have to have them. And langoustines for the main course. Will you allow me to order for you? I promise it’ll be worth it.’

His smile warmed her, like the sun had earlier in the day. Jake always drew her like a magnet, and in this mood he was completely irresistible.

‘OK, if you insist.’ She closed the menu. ‘What did you call the truffles?’

‘Rabasses, it’s the Provencal name for them. I used to hunt for them with my grandfather.’

‘You grew up in France? I didn’t realize, I thought you spent your childhood in New York,’ she said. They knew so much about each other, but there were still vital aspects of their lives to discover.

‘I did, until my father died, then we moved to France.’ He closed his menu, a shuttered look coming down over his features. ‘It was difficult. I was an urban New York kid, transplanted into rural France. Talk about feeling like an alien.’

‘Believe me, I understand that feeling.’ She played with her fork. ‘I didn’t even have your excuse. I lived in the same town my whole life, but I never once fitted in.’

‘My grandfather was a
rabassier
, a truffle hunter,’ he explained. ‘He’d take me out with the pigs into the
truffière
, the oak forest where we farmed the truffles, to search for them.’

There was something wistful in his eyes, an echo of the boy he had once been.

‘He loved you.’ She reached over and placed a hand over his. ‘He understood you.’

‘He still loves me,’ Jake answered. ‘And what he doesn’t understand, he accepts. You’ll like him. Tell me about growing up, how did you manage to alienate everyone?’ he teased, his hand surrounding hers in its warmth.

‘I caused a scene. My mother was disgusted. We were having lunch in a local café and I stood up and shouted that everyone had to leave. I had a feeling there was something wrong. Five minutes later the café exploded. It was a gas leak. My mother never forgave what she called my odd behaviour.’ She pulled her hand from his and reached for a slice of baguette. ‘Everyone looked at me sideways, after that.’

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