Chapter 30
DIANE
“Isigned up for meditation and yoga.” Mom turns to Chloe. “And I might call your therapist as well.”
Chloe smiles. “It won’t hurt.”
Mom takes my hand. “First Chloe in October, now you… Please—both of you—don’t scare me like that ever again.”
I nudge her lemonade glass across the garden table. “You should taste it. Michel makes it from a medieval recipe he guards with his life.”
She takes a sip and swishes it around in her mouth before swallowing. “Mine is better.”
An hour later, they’re gone and I recline on the deck chair for a nap. I’ve been sleeping a lot over the past two days, which is weird because I hadn’t been exactly active during the preceding forty-eight hours.
When I wake up, I find Sebastian sitting on the grass at my feet.
“It’s Wednesday,” I say. “Shouldn’t you be at the office, bossing people around?”
He kisses my ankles. “I’d rather be here.”
“I need to stretch my legs,” I say.
He jumps to his feet and helps me up.
As we stroll through the garden, I brush my hand over tree branches and shrubbery, caressing the leaves. Everything smells so good, looks so beautiful, feels so pleasant to touch… God, I’m happy I made it.
“Mom told me you went on TV, offering a ransom,” I say.
He nods.
“She says you didn’t specify an amount—you just said, ‘Name your price, I’ll pay it.’ ”
He nods again.
I give him a sidelong look. “Don’t you think that was a little presumptuous?”
He shakes his head.
I’m itching to ask whether he’d have paid up if Octave had demanded a billion euros.
“I would’ve given everything I have,” he says. “Don’t you ever doubt that.”
I stop and hug him, burying my face against his chest. He puts his arms around me and kisses the top of my head. There are so many things I want to say to him, but they’re all too sentimental for my cynical mouth. So I hug him tighter instead, hoping he’ll understand.
Praying that he knows.
“When did you first suspect foul play?” I ask after a long moment.
“Sunday morning. I called you a dozen times. I called Elorie, Chloe, and your Mom. When your Mom said she hadn’t seen or heard from you, I knew you hadn’t just upped and left.”
“Thank God you didn’t call Dad, and thank God he doesn’t own a TV,” I say.
“Chloe was very helpful. She called him for a chat and ascertained that you weren’t with him.”
We walk in silence for a few minutes. I listen to the birds in the trees and insects humming around us. But I have too many questions to fully enjoy the peaceful magic of this place.
“When did you start suspecting Octave?”
“Sometime Sunday night. I tossed and turned, and then I remembered him coming in at four a.m. the night you disappeared.”
“Powers of deduction,” I say under my breath.
“Pardon me?”
“Nothing.” I wave my hand dismissively. “Just a side effect of having only me to entertain myself for two days straight.”
He puts his hand around my shoulders.
“What did you do once you had your suspicions?” I ask.
“I texted my PI to forget Valeria and start tailing Octave ASAP. Then I dressed and drove to the nearest commissariat.”
“Thank goodness you didn’t call the police or your PI from home. Octave had the bedroom bugged.”
Sebastian stops in his tracks, his jaw clenched in anger.
“Finish your story,” I ask.
“Things went pretty fast from there,” he says. “On Monday morning, the police figured out Octave had inherited a hovel in Yvelines, an hour’s drive from Paris. That’s when the PI texted me that he was driving behind my majordome in that same direction.”
Sebastian trails off, his gaze suddenly unfocused.
“You OK?” I ask.
“Yes, of course. It just hit me how, at one point or another, I’ve suspected everyone—my competitors, my aunt and uncle, Greg, Lynette… even Laurent! But I never doubted Octave.” His nostrils flare. “How could I be so blind? It almost cost you your life.”
“But it didn’t.” I give him a bright smile. “You got there on time. You found me.”
“I love you, Diane,” he says. “With all my heart.”
I sort of figured that out but, dear Lord, it’s good to hear him say those words!
“I love you, too, Sebastian.”
He takes my left hand and strokes my ring finger. “You’re still wearing your engagement ring and your wedding band.”
“Oh.” I pull my hand away and begin to remove the jewelry. “Silly me! We don’t need them anymore now that—”
“Don’t!” He takes hold of my hand again and pushes the rings back to the base of my finger. “Will you do me the honor of remaining my wife?”
My jaw drops.
He smiles. “Your spontaneity is priceless. Please don’t ever change.”
I keep silent, still digesting his words.
“Say yes,” he pleads.
“I don’t understand,” I say instead. “What do you mean by ‘remaining your wife’? Our marriage is fake.”
He shakes his head. “Not if I send the missing document to the consulate in Miami. We still have two weeks until the deadline.”
“I can’t.” I say. “It would be against what I profess, against my principles.”
“Which are…?”
I focus on my feet. “I hate rich people. They’re all exploiters and crooks. I don’t believe it’s possible to amass a fortune by being a good person.”
“Diane.” He takes my chin between his index finger and thumb, nudging me gently to look at him. “I don’t care what you think of ‘rich people’ as a class. However, I do care what you think of me. Do you believe I’m an exploiter and a crook?”
“No,” I say without a second’s hesitation. “I don’t. Ludicrous as it is, I think you’re a good person.”
The corners of his mouth curl up. “You sure?”
“Yes. And I have proof.”
“You do?”
I nod. “It was you who ‘persuaded’ Belle Auxbois to go on prime-time TV and credit Dad for her perfume. Now he has so many offers he’s raised his fee and established a waiting list.” I grip Sebastian’s hand and give it a squeeze. “Thank you.”
“How did you—”
“It doesn’t matter.” I bring his hand to my lips and kiss it. “And there’s something else. When I told him who was behind Belle’s sudden generosity, he admitted you’d offered to buy his company before you crushed it.”
“I thought you knew about it,” he says.
I shake my head.
He strokes my hands and touches my engagement ring. “Do you like it? Or shall I get you a new one, something you would choose? We could go to Place Vend?me tomorrow—”
“No!” I cut him off. “I mean, I wouldn’t mind something less ritzy, but that’s not what I… It’s just… How…”
He tilts his head to the side, waiting for me to form my question.
“What would be the terms?” I finally manage.
“Let’s see.” He opens the thumb of his left hand. “You’ll have to kiss me. A lot.” He extends his index finger. “You’ll have to sleep in my bed, and you’ll be expected to have sex with me—both in and out of that bed.”
I smile and roll my eyes skyward.
He uncurls his middle finger. “You’ll call me ‘my beloved spouse’ in public and ‘my stallion’ in private.”
I stick my finger in my mouth and pretend to gag.
“It was a joke,” he says.
“You sure?”
He nods vigorously.
I pretend to wipe my brow. “Phew.”
“But this one isn’t.” He unfolds his ring finger. “I’ll expect you to be my teammate. I’ll need you to stand by my side through everything and support me in running the company and the house, regardless of your leftist ideology.”
I draw in a deep breath.
“And this one isn’t a joke, either.” Sebastian opens his little finger, eyes burning into mine. “I’ll be the happiest of men if you give me a child. A few, if possible.”
I swallow and hold his gaze.
He smiles again. “That’s it. Those are the terms. Do you think you can do those things for me?”
“I think I can,” I say. “And then some.”
His smile grows into a huge grin.
“But,” I say, taking his hand. “What I meant by ‘terms’ was actually of a more… financial nature. You and I are too unequal in that regard.”
He says nothing.
“Do you have a prenup contract drafted?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “We don’t need one.”
“You’ve lost your mind.”
“Quite the contrary.” He lifts my hand to his lips and plants a hot kiss to my palm. “I’ve found it.”
I look down, thinking.
“Say yes, Diane.” He gives my hand a squeeze.
I lift my eyes. “On one condition.”
“Anything.”
“You’ll pose for me naked again. Every time I ask you to.”
He arches an eyebrow.
I put my hand to my heart. “For strictly personal use, I promise.”
“OK,” he says. “But I’ll be your only male model.”
“Deal.”
He nods. “Deal.”
“Then it’s a yes.” I throw my arms around his neck and add in a husky voice, “My stallion.”
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