The Art of Retaliation (22 page)

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Authors: Arabella Kingsley

BOOK: The Art of Retaliation
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“Now look for something to wear.
 
What about this?”

 

He picked up a short cream flimsy summer dress through which nothing
could be hidden.
 
He handed it to
Mara who gave him a look of despair.

 

“Get real,” she said snatching it off him and putting it back on to
the rail.

 

He led her round the shop looking
at
 
the
designer clothes all bearing
similarity to the first.

 

“May I help you, Madame,” a young French woman approached, grimacing
at Mara’s state of dress that was incompatible with the hotel’s silent code.

 

Mara’s hand shot to her throat and for a moment
Stephane
saw her vulnerable, a side she tried so hard not to let him see.
 
Protectively, he moved closer, slipping
an arm around her waist, drawing her to his side.

 

“Yes, my lovely wife is looking for something to wear.”

 

The woman smiled at
Stephane
with admiring
eyes.
 
She couldn’t understand the
blush on Mara’s face as anger pierced her eyes, nor the mischievous grin
covering the Count’s lips.

 

“Something cool and comfortable but stylish,” he continued.

 

“Of course, Monsieur.”

 

The woman walked in to another adjoining room beckoning them to
follow her.
 
As they walked
Stephane’s
attention rested on the woman in front, his eyes
travelling the length of her body in admiration.
 
Mara gave a loud tut.

 

“I suppose you know all her vital statistics with that powerful
stare,” she whispered, contempt audible in her voice.

 

“Don’t worry, darling.
 
I
only have eyes for you.

he mocked squeezing her hand.

 

Mara tried to pull away again but he refused to let go of her hand
enjoying the power he held over her.

 

“Is it for day wear?” the woman asked.

 

She was in her early twenties, long titan hair sweeping down her
back.

 

“Yes.
 
Do you have a
trouser suit?” Mara asked.

 

“Oh no, darling, you don’t want a trouser suit.
 
It is far too hot for tone of those.”

 

Stephane
pulled
her to a rail and lifted up a sleeveless
well fitted
red dress and jacket.

 

“What about this, Mara?”

 

His captive tried to pull her hand free once more and this time he
relented and let it go with a smile.
 
She roughly took the dress and matching jacket from him, holding the
outfit in front of her for a closer inspection.

 

“Have you got a scarf and some shoes that would go with this?” she
asked the woman.

 

“Yes we should have.
 
I
will go and look for you and bring them in to you.
 
You can try the dress and jacket on in
here.”

 

The Boutique assistant led Mara in to a small room walled with
mirrors and a light beige and white carver chair in one corner.

 

When she walked back into the changing room she found Mara in her
underwear.

 

“Madame, I have brought you . . .”

 

The woman fell silent noticing the discoloration lining Mara’s
throat as she reached up for the dress hanging on a hook.
 
The woman looked at Mara with pity.

 

“I brought you some shoes and a red and black scarf which I think
will match,

 
she
said quietly.

 

She put down the shoes and the scarf on the chair and then looked at
the black silk lingerie in her hand.

 

“Your husband gave me this for you to try.
 
He thinks you will look fabulous in
it.
” she said trying to smile as she handed over the
garments.

 

Mara was holding the suit to her body to hide the bruising in vain.

 

“Oh he did, did he?”

 

The woman looked uncomfortable and made an excuse to leave the
room.
 
A few minutes later Mara
emerged from the changing room in the complete outfit.

 

Stephane
stared at
her with wide eyes taking in every sexy curve and swell of her body neatly
accentuated by the well fitting dress.
 
Eager to touch her he wound his hands carefully around Mara’s small
waist, moving them gently up and down to judge the fit.
 
He half expected her to shrug him off
but she didn’t.

 

“Are you going to have it?” he asked.

 

“Yes I will.”
 

 

He watched her glanced at the assistant and then whispered to him,
“I think she believes you have been man handling me.”

 

“What?”

 

“She saw the bruising on my neck.”

 

“Well that will explain it.”

 

“Yes why your feeble attempt to get her in to bed failed,” Mara gave
a small laugh and then coughed as the woman approached again to warn him.

 

He quickly removed his hands from her waist and backed away
disturbed the woman could believe he was responsible for hurting Mara.

 

“I’ll take it all, “ Mara said confidently “Monsieur will be
paying.
 
Can you have my dress dry
cleaned and returned to my room please.

 

“Of course, Madame.”

 

Stephane
took out
his credit card.

 

“I’ll just be waiting outside, darling,” Mara smiled devilishly,
walking slowly out of the shop when he was engaged in paying.
 

 

The Billionaire quickly gave her a warning look but knew he had been
ignored.
 
Anxious she was about to
escape he hurriedly paid watching her move into the lobby towards the glass
turn door.
 
The doorman hailed her a
taxi at her request and genteelly opened the door.
 
He was about to shut it after her when
he was abruptly stopped.

 

“Oh,
Stephane
you made it and I was so
looking forward to you not being able to.” she smiled sitting back in the seat
making her
self comfortable
.
 
He climbed in beside her.

 

“And where do you think you are going?” he asked contented that he‘d
foiled another of her attempts to escape.

 

“I thought I might visit Versailles.
 
It is lovely this time of year.”

 

“Really.”

 
 
Chapter
Eighteen
 

Mara had made the obligatory visit Versailles and the Palace every
time she was in Paris.
 
Situated on
the outskirts it was unlike any other building she had ever seen with its
grandiose style and heavily ornate interior.
 
Apart from that though there was nothing
else much to see, the majority of the furniture having been sold to fund the
Anglo-French war in America.
 
What
was left was sparse.
 
But the Palace
had never really interested her anyway.
 
Mara loved the gardens that lay beyond it.

 

It took them an hour to get there.
 
She got out of the taxi first leaving
Stephane
to pay and marched towards the house up through
the car park amidst a gaggle of tourists.
 
He quickly ran after her and took hold of her arm pulling her back.

 

“If you are going to keep rushing off I’m going to have to keep hold
of you.
 
Slow down.” he told her
sternly.

 

Mara frowned at him as he let go of her.

 

“Why don’t you try and keep up?” she snapped.

 

“Have you been here before?”

 

“Yes I have on many occasions.
 
I just want to go into the gardens.”

 

The Count bought two tickets and let her lead them into the formal
gardens just outside the house.
 
They were based on an English Garden design by Andre Le Notre and were
decorated with soft pastel colors of white pinks and blues.
 
They continued a long the gravel path
not giving them much attention.
 
Mara never spent much time there.
 
The gardens directly outside the Palace were so neatly cropped and
walking around them only made them look untidy.

 

She stopped before the steps that led down to the water gardens.

 

“It’s so beautiful isn’t?”

 

Stephane
nodded.

 

“You can see for miles from here.
 
I can’t believe how far it stretches,”
she gushed like a child.

 

Every time she visited she could imagine the Kings and Queens of old
walking about the gardens, heavy crinoline dresses ruffling in the wind as they
swept up and down the steps.
 
Their
children playing hide and seek behind the sharply coned trees in the formal
area, the gardener under threat of execution if they were not to perfect
shape.
 

 

Mara walked down the steps to Vivaldi’s Four Seasons drifting
through her ears.
 
She’d only ever
come on a Sunday.
 
That was when
they turned all of the fountains on and she couldn’t imagine the gardens
without them and no music to accompany the majestic sprays of water.

 

They made their way down the steps past the fountain of
Latona
depicting a golden Lady stood at the top of three
tiers showered with strong jets of water. Below her the people of Lycia turned
into frogs by Jupiter for not allowing
Latona’s
children, Apollo and Diana to drink the pure spa water and bathe in it.

 

Mara briefly stopped to admire her and the rainbow of colors cast by
the water dazzling her eyes.
 
The
gentle silky spray of
water cooled
her in the hot
sun.
 
She and
Stephane
continued down the second batch of steps to join the army of people regimented
like ants walking down to the water gardens.
 
They passed the pool containing the
fountain of Apollo riding in his chariot across the lake by four horses circled
by four monsters of the deep and four tritons and entered the park that housed
the Grand Canal.

 

They passed the small restaurants and travelled through the local
people who gathered there every Sunday to walk, go for a bike ride or to sail
boats on the canal and sank down on the grass next to the water.

 

Mara let herself fall back on to a bed of grass and shut her
eyes.
 
She let out a satisfied sigh
as she felt the sun warm her face.
 
Stephane
took the jacket from her hand and laid it next to
her sitting down.
 
He took off his
suit jacket and loosened his tie.
 
For a while he sat looking at her and was unable to resist running his
fingers through her hair.
 
She
didn’t object and lay still appearing to enjoying the caress.
 
He leaned over her wanting to kiss her.

 


Stephane
, you are blocking my sun.”

 

He ignored her comment and leaned closer taking hold of the back of
her head.
 
With some small
resistance he brought her nearer and lowered his lips to hers.
 
His arm wound around her waist causing
her head to tilt back.
 
The
resistance ceased.
 
Stephane
heard her moan with pleasure as his mouth covered
hers.

 

“No don’t do this isn’t right,” she breathed suddenly trying to
break from his deep kiss.

 

“Just let it
go
, Mara.
 
Don’t say anything.
 
Let’s just forget everything and enjoy
what we have together right here and now,” it was almost a plea.

 

“But I can’t can I?”

 

 
She pushed him
away.
 
The Billionaire rolled away
lying on his back in defeat.
 
His
captive turned away from him on to her side.
 
They both lay in silence unsure of what
to say to each other.
 
Half an hour
later he decided he couldn’t take anymore of the stand off.

 

“Come on, Mara, I think we should go and get some food.”

 

She rolled over to face him.

 

“Okay where are we going to go?” she asked lethargically not wanting
to move.

 

He put his pale blue tie straight and stood up.

 

“I used to come here a lot when I was a student with my father.
 
I know a lovely hotel with a small
restaurant and live music my father used to take me to.”

 

Stephane
put his
jacket on and offered her a hand to help her up.
 
Thankfully she didn’t refuse or rebuke
his offer of assistance.

 

When she stood she wobbled and put her hand to her head feeling
faint and dizzy.
 
She clung on to
his hand and he found himself holding hers tighter until she got her balance.

 

‘Still a little dizzy, Mara,’ he said regretfully rubbing his thumb
over knuckles to comfort her.

 

Watching her every move with concern he draped the red jacket around
her shoulders and led her up back up to the house holding her hand and out of
the grounds in silence.

 

“I thought we were eating at the hotel tonight with Leon” she
reminded him.

 

“I think Leon will be more than happy to be on his own,” he smiled
remembering the red head he had seen him talk to in the morning at the
hotel.
 
“I’ll give him a ring when
we get to the restaurant and get him to send the car for us when were
finished.”

 

They made their way through the car park and out on to the
street.
 
After walking a little way
they came to the small Hotel
Chalon
sat untidily at
the end of a row of shops.

 

Mara stared at him in surprise.

 

“I know it’s a bit run down but it’s got a great restaurant in the
basement which does the best escargot . . .”

 

Mara’s face twisted.
 
Stephane
grinned and waved his hand at her.

 

“The English don’t know anything about good food.”

 

He stood back holding the door for her and peered inside.
 
He hadn’t been there since his father’s
death.
 
It was a favorite haunt for
Pierre
Garreau
when entertaining his latest mistress
and
Stephane
had been sent there many times looking
for him at the request of his mother.

 

It was a typical French restaurant with a large
white
aproned
owner.
 
They were led
to a corner of the room to a small table covered with a red and white checked
tablecloth and lit lamp in the middle.

 

“It’s quite cozy in here isn’t it?” Mara remarked moving her knife
and fork further apart.

 

“Yes it has a band that plays music from about 7.00pm.
 
It’s 6.00pm now.
 
We could stay if you wanted to hear the
band that is?”

 

Mara raised an eyebrow.
 
In a strange round about way he was taking her out on a date.

 

“Why didn’t you try and get away today?” he asked with
curiosity.
 
“I could have easily
lost you in that crowd in Versailles.”

 

She fiddled with her napkin folding it into neat squares, unable to
meet his eyes directly.

 

“What was the point?
 
You
would just have me arrested.”

 

Stephane
wanted to
laugh.
 
He credited her with too
much intelligence to believe that story and since when would it have stopped
the tigress attempting to escape from her cage.

 

“I’m sorry but you shouldn’t have left with Christophe,” he said
coolly.

 

She turned to look around at the surroundings not wishing to discuss
the matter further.
 
The waiter
appeared and told them what the special was after giving them some menus.

 

“I’ll just have some soup please,” Mara said shutting the menu.

 

“No you won’t you will have something more than that.”

 

Stephane
turned to
the waiter.

 

“She will have steak au
poivre
and le
chevre
chaud
to start.”

 

Mara looked at him in disbelief.

 

“Don’t you dare order for me.”

 

“Oh and a bottle of Chablis please.
 
That will be all for now.” he said
shutting his menu and handing it to the waiter.

 

The young waiter looked at Mara unsure of whether or not to do as
Stephane
had commanded.
 
He looked back at the Billionaire’s
stern face and thought better of it.

 

“Who gave you the right to order for me?” Mara demanded crossly.

 

Stephane
sighed
took out his mobile phone without giving it a second thought.

 

“Since you refused to eat.”

 

She was about to say more but he started to speak to Leon and
thankfully refrained from causing another argument.

 

The restaurant had been empty when they had arrived but it was now
filling up with tourists and couples.
 
Mara’s eyes rested on an attractive blonde man who was sitting with
another man and a woman.
 
The Count
could see him smiling at her and his powerful frame tightened.
 
To her embarrassment she blushed and
turned back to
Stephane
to avoid his gaze.
 
The Count frowned at the man to warn him
off.

 

He was surprised at the flutter of jealously he had felt about
Christophe return.
 
The man was
taking no heed of his warning.
 
He
appeared tall with short blonde hair, English looking, green eyes,
slim
build and pompous, not unlike Ryan.
 
The man watched
Stephane’s
eyes narrow as he looked at him again and gave a regal bow of the head to
acknowledge his presence.

 

“You seem to have an admirer, Mara,” he couldn’t hide the jealousy
in his voice.

 

“Jealous
Stephane
?”

 

“No not really.”

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