Heat Vol. 5 (Heat: Master Chefs #5) (6 page)

Chapter 7

S
peechless, I stared at him while he looked
intently at me, waiting for an answer.  I wanted to say yes, but the word
wouldn’t come.  It was lodged somewhere in my throat.  Or was it in my heart? 
And why?

A
sudden knock at the door saved me from having to deal with the situation right
then and there.  I looked expectantly at Rial, but he ignored the knock at the
door and continued to look at me.

A
second and more persistent knock was accompanied with a, “Sir?”

“Now
what?” Rial hissed.  He leaned closer to me.  “We’ll continue right after I
deal with whatever it is that so urgently needs my attention.”  Planting a
quick, hard kiss on my lips, he got out of bed, threw on his slacks and headed
to the door.

After
a quick glance back at me to assure I wasn’t overly exposed – I’d gathered up
the sheets and had covered myself – he opened the door to find his butler
there.

“I’m
in the middle of something.  This better be important.”

“It
is, sir.  You have visitors.”

“Yes. 
Yes.  I know that.  Monsieur Cooke arrived well over an hour ago.  He went down
to have a look at the stables.  If he returned, can you not tend to him in my
absence?”

“Sir…”

“Hold
on a minute.  Did you say ‘visitors’?  As in, more than one?”

“Exactly,
sir.  The police have arrived and they wish to speak to Mademoiselle Lilly.”

“Right. 
Tell them we’ll be right down.”

“Yes,
sir.”

Rial
closed the door and looked at me.  “You ready for this?  I could ask them to
come back tomorrow.”

“I’m
as ready as I’ll ever be.  I want to get it over with.”

“It’s
going to be rough.  You’ll have to explain everything that happened.”

“I
know, Rial, and I’m ready.  Believe me.  I can’t wait to tell them what those
men did so they can go on to spend the rest of their lives in jail.”

As
I got out of bed, he came to me, his stride strong and purposeful.  Cupping my
cheeks, he pulled me in for a long, sweet kiss while his arms enveloped me. 
“You’re one hell of a woman, you know that?”

Blushing,
I smiled.  “I’m starting to know it.”

He
reached for a lock of my hair as his gaze took me in, all of me.  “You were a
sex fiend just moments ago, and you now look like a woman whose wildest desires
have been fulfilled, and to top it off, you're ready to face the difficult
interview that is sure to come.  You amaze me.”

“I
guess I sometimes amaze myself.”  I shrugged.  “But I have to do what I have to
do.  Then it’ll be over.  We can move on.”

“Right.” 
Biting his bottom lip, he looked hungrily at me.  “You look so hot right now. 
Your hair disheveled and wild, you cheeks flushed with passion and your body
glowing with desire.  I want to start all over again and fuck you, but…”  He
grabbed my shoulders, turned me around and gave me a sound pat on the behind. 
“You need to shower, wipe the sex off your face and tame your hair.  Then we’ll
go down and take care of this.”

I
looked sidelong at the mirror beside the closet door.  Indeed, I looked a mess;
a wild and sex crazed mess.  “I’ll be quick and join you in a few minutes.”

While
he headed out to meet with the police, I hurried into the bathroom and took a
quick, cool shower.  After drying off, I opted to pull my damp hair back into a
tight ponytail instead of wasting time drying it out.  Then came the question
of what to wear.

Rial
had arranged to have almost all my clothes brought over, but I couldn’t think
of anything from my wardrobe that would be appropriate.

I
wanted to look fresh and in charge, but I wanted something demure and simple. 
Mentally going over my every item in my wardrobe, I headed to my room and threw
open my closet.

Once
again, Rial surprised me.  In addition to the clothes he’d had brought from my
place, he had filled the closet with an assortment of beautiful designer
clothes for virtually every occasion.  Elegant and feminine suits for business
meetings, fanciful summer dresses for strolls in the park and sexy little
numbers for our intimate dinners for two.  At the far right were a series of
cocktail dresses followed by a few full length gowns.  In the back of it all
was a wall of shoes; spike heels, peep toes, sling backs, flip flops, sneakers,
ankle boots… and on and on.

“Rial,”
I whispered.  “There’s too much to choose from.  I don’t know where to start.”

Despite
that moment of protest, I started on the left side of the closet, flicking one
hanger after the other.  Among the summer dresses were a few simple classic
sheaths and I chose the deep green one.  It hugged my curves without clinging
to them.  The effect was perfect.

“You
know your stuff, Rial.”

I
headed back to the racks of shoes and spotted a pair of delicate golden
slippers.  “Great.”  Pulling them off the rack, something on the shelf off to
the left caught my eye.

Beside
a pair of white satin pumps were a series of brochures; China, Japan, Egypt,
and set on the floor below them were three Louis Vuitton suitcases.  “Looks
like you’ve already got the honeymoon in order.”  I fingered the handle of the larger
suitcase.  A trip around the world would certainly be nice.  Already I could
just imagine the flavors and scents the world had to offer.  It would be the
perfect blend of business and pleasure; making love to Rial every night and
hunting for special herbs and spices during the day.

Engulfed
with a sense of warmth and love, I picked up the brochure for Tahiti.  It
certainly was beautiful… the kind of place people dream about… white sand,
clear blue water and endless sun.

“Oh,
Rial,” I said in a quiet hush.  “It all looks so perfect… so heavenly.  How can
I refuse your proposal?”  But then Bobby’s smiling face came to me, and I knew
why I hadn’t immediately accepted Rial’s proposal.

With
a grunt of displeasure, I shook the images of Bobby out of my head and pulled
the golden slippers on before heading out to meet the police.

As
I approached the sitting room, I could hear them talking softly among
themselves.  I stopped just short of the threshold and took a deep breath.

“Hello,
everyone,” I said as I entered the large room.  “Sorry for keeping you
waiting.”

A
man and a woman in uniform sat in the twin Louis XVI chairs that faced the long
white sofa where Rial and my father sat.  Before taking a seat between them, I
gave my father a quick kiss, happy to see he would be there as I gave my
statement.  Rial gave me an affectionate and reassuring pat on the knee as I
sat down.

“Not
at all,” the woman said with a grin.  In her early thirties, she was thin, but
with a strong athletic build, and shoulder length black hair that bounced as
she spoke.  “We’ve been enjoying your great culinary talent.”

I
looked at the spread on the coffee table and on the dessert tray set off to the
side.  Jars upon jars of jams and preserves I’d concocted were set out for
everyone to enjoy.

“This
one is my favorite,” she went on.  “
Confit d’oignon
.”

“I’m
glad you like it.”  To look at the sitting room, one would have thought we were
receiving royalty instead of the police.

“You
are a very talented young woman,” she said in a jagged English.  “I can’t even
begin to imagine how you came to formulate all these.”

“
Merci
. 
It’s a lot of trial and error.”

“Mademoiselle
Cooke,” the man said as he got to his feet.  Standing just barely taller than
I, he seemed agitated and nervous for a moment, then he cleared his throat and
was clearly in charge.  “I’m Detective Daniel Fortier and this is Lieutenant
Darlene Robier.  How are you feeling this afternoon?”

“All
things considered, very well, thank you.”

“What
an atrocious ordeal you went through,” Darlene said.  “And you're such a dainty
and sweet looking young woman.”  She reached out for a pastry filled with a
cranberry and pecan concoction I’d just recently put to market.  Taking a huge
bite, she chewed while giving me a thumbs up of approval.  “Delicious, but they
are so expensive.  I can never afford these on my salary.”

“Then,
by all means, take a few jars with you when you leave,” I offered.

“Perhaps,
we should get to the matter at hand,” Detective Fortier said.

“Yes,”
Rial said.  “I’d like to get this over with as quickly as possible.  I’m eager
to see Lilly move on with her life.”

“Your
father was just telling us about a similar ordeal you went through as a girl,”
Darlene said.

“Yes,
it was quite difficult.  Traumatic, you could say.”

“You
seem to be holding up well this time,” Daniel said.

I
looked to my father and reached for his hand, then looked to Rial.  “As I’ve
told Rial, I refuse to allow those men to ruin my life again.”

“That’s
very admirable,” Darlene said as she finished off the pastry and glanced at the
tray, contemplating another.  “People of your status… from such an aristocratic
family… it’s insane that such a thing should happen. 
N’est pas?
”

“Indeed,”
Rial said.

Detective
Daniel looked down at his notes.  “We already know that you were snatched from
Monsieur Errol King’s restaurant, right in front of dozens of patrons.  Could
you tell us what happened once they took you out of the restaurant?”

For
the next twenty minutes I told them, in as much detail as I could remember,
every little thing that had happened.

“If
I may say,” Daniel said, “you are a very attractive young lady.”

Rial
immediately snaked his arm around my waist and pulled me closer.

“Thank
you,” I said.

“Did
any of those men try to take advantage of… the situation?”

Rial’s
arm tensed.  We hadn’t discussed that possibility and I could sense his fear as
he awaited my answer.

“No. 
None of them touched me.”

“Are
you sure?  I know this may be difficult to discuss.  Perhaps you would rather
talk this out with Darlene, in private.”

The
young lieutenant smiled.  “That’s what I’m here for.”

“No,
really.  There’s nothing to say.  I mean, one of them might have insinuated
and…”  A chill ran over me as I found myself once again sandwiched between
Horace and Constantine in the limo.  “One of them put his hand on my knee.”

“Only
your knee?  Nothing more?” Darlene said with gentle understanding.

“He
did try to go a little higher, but the older man told him to stop.”

“Godfrey?”

“Yes.”

“Who
touched you?”

“My
eyes were bound at that time, but I’m sure it was the man named Constantine. 
He was the one making crude remarks.  And I believe Godfrey mentioned his name
when he reprimanded him.”

“You
poor thing,” Darlene said.  “For one to come out of the convent for so many
years and have to go through something like this.  I will tell you,
Mademoiselle Cooke.  I will do everything within my power to make sure these
men spend a good long time in jail.”

“I
hope they will.”

“You
were in a convent?” Detective Daniel said.

“Yes,
Detective…”

“Please,
you can call me Daniel.”

“Daniel,
I was at
Sainte Anne
’s for a number of years.  I even considered
becoming a nun.”  I smiled at them all, hoping to erase the look of pity that
seemed to cling to their faces.  “Those years made me strong and prepared me
for the trials and heartache of life… probably much more than I had ever
thought.  I guess I have a different perspective on life than most people, and
I think it’s that perspective that got me through this.  I was able to overcome
the fear.”  I looked to my father.  “Much more than I was capable of doing back
then.  You see, bringing me to that convent was a good thing after all.  It
taught me how to draw on my inner strength.”

He
gave me an affectionate squeeze.

“They’ve
attempted to blame you for the whole fiasco,” Daniel said.  “They say you
brought it on yourself, but it’s clear they’re fighting a losing battle.  They
won’t be able to talk their way out of this one.”

“And
we’ll also be looking into those embezzlement charges, Monsieur Cooke,” Darlene
said.  “It might be of little consolation, but these men were very good at what
they did, and you weren’t their first victim.”

“You
mean, they’ve done this type of thing before?” I said.

She
turned to me.  “The men who kidnapped you are only a small part of a very large
criminal ring.  That ring has been running operations in France for over
fifteen years now, but they're also very strong in certain parts of Asia, like
Hong Kong, China, and a strain is branching out in the United States.”

“Those
devils,” Eugene shouted as he shot up.

Startled,
I looked up at him.  I’d never seen him so angry.

“How
could they do that to me?”

“Monsieur
Cooke, these are professional criminals.”

“No. 
No.  You don’t understand.  These weren’t just people I picked off the street.  I
knew them.  I knew them well, in fact.  Oh, well, maybe not that Horace fellow,
but Constantine and Godfrey.”  Running his hand over his thinning hair, he
shook his head.  “I just can’t believe they’re part of a criminal ring.  I’d
have lunch with them on a regular basis.  I invited them into my home.”  He
turned to me.  “Remember that Christmas when they stopped over to bring you
gifts?”

I
smiled, but shook my head.  “Sorry, I don’t really remember.”

“Oh,
no matter.  I remember.  They were like family.”  His face a frightful shade of
red, he gripped the back of the sofa.

“Dad,”
I said as I rushed up to him. “Are you all right?  Please sit down.  You can’t
let this upset you like that.”