Chapter 15
CHAPTER 15
L ONDON
Autumn held a firm grip on London, with golden rain-soaked leaves spread like an elegant blanket over the city. Belle pulled her coat more securely around her to ward off the morning chill after stepping from the car outside their Knightsbridge apartment.
Their departure from Athens had been so rushed, she hadn’t found time to pack suitable clothes. Nick had spent the time after lunch yesterday juggling endless phone calls, dealing with nervous shareholders and repercussions of the news of her capture. He’d stayed up long after she’d gone to bed, and she’d woken this morning to the news that they had to return to London. More shareholders to pacify.
There were also her parents to see. But first…
Looking up at the tall apartment building, her old insecurities returned. Even with the knowledge that Nick was willing to meet her halfway, ease up on his need to control her every move, and had already started to do so, it was still difficult being here. But when he took her arm and led her to the elevator, closely followed by their bodyguards, she didn’t protest.
She was actually relieved when his butler, Bertrand, threw open the door in welcome. Her relief turned to surprise when the short, normally staid Frenchman bent over her hand in gallant greeting.
Nick looked on in amusement. “I think it’s fair to say Bertrand has missed you.”
“ Oui, Madame ,” Bertrand agreed. “And may I say how wonderful it is to have you back.”
“It’s good to see you, too, Bertrand,” she said.
“ Merci, Madame .” With his usual efficiency, he took charge of their bags and disappeared down the hallway.
Looking around at the place she’d called home for six months, a bolt of shock went through her. Gone were the harsh chrome and black leather seats, the dark carpets, and the severe postmodernist paintings she’d felt very little affinity to. In their place, warm, comfortable sofas, bright scatter cushions, and expensive rugs covered the newly exposed and polished oak floor.
She turned to Nick. “You redecorated?”
He shrugged, but she noticed the quick look cast her way. “You hated the previous décor. You likened it to a playboy’s shag pad, or was it the devil’s bathroom? Something along those lines anyway,” he teased with a smile.
“I don’t recall the exact words, but you may be right,” the imp in her couldn’t resist saying.
He came to stand in front of her, a decidedly nervous look in his expression. “So, do you like it?”
“That depends.”
“On what?”
“On if it’s just this room or the whole apartment,” she said.
“Why don’t you come in and see for yourself?” He held out a hand to her.
He showed her similarly decorated rooms, all done with comfort rather than ostentation in mind. It would’ve pleased her had it not been for memories associated with the master bedroom, the place they’d had that last, almighty row, prior to her walking out.
The room that Nick now led her to.
Her heart skittered, and her legs trembled as she entered, only to stop and gasp in surprise.
The bed was gone; so were the antique bedside furniture and the elegant tallboy which had graced the opposite wall. Gone were the heavy silk curtains that had adorned the floor-to-ceiling windows.
In their place, row after row of exercise equipment stood on a newly varnished floor just like that in the living room. In the exact place where their bed used to be hung the largest punching bag Belle had ever seen. Reaching out, she pushed it, bemused as it swung to and fro.
“Why?” She turned to Nick who had followed her across the room.
He shrugged. “I couldn’t enter this room without thinking of our last argument. I tried to, but I couldn’t sleep here without you.
This is a much better use for it.”
She walked forward and touched a cold dumb bell. “So where will we sleep?”
“Come, I’ll show you.”
The last two bedrooms had been converted into one master suite, complete with giant fireplace, luxurious royal blue carpet, and twin dressing rooms. But what thrilled Belle most was the brand new four-poster bed, similar to the one they’d slept on in Althea, with its sheer curtains, countless pillows, and a similar blue-and-gold throw gracing the enormous bed.
“Oh, Nick, it’s beautiful,” she exclaimed, turning full circle in the room.
He slid his arms around her, sealed her lips with a lingering kiss, before murmuring, “Only beautiful things will do for my beautiful wife.” He continued to kiss her until they heard Bertrand’s discreet knock.
“Lunch will be served in an hour. And then, Madame , if you please, I will go over the menu for tomorrow’s dinner party with you.” The butler left.
She turned to Nick. “You organized a dinner party without telling me?”
A tinge of colour splashed his cheeks. “I’m sorry. I got a little ahead of myself. In my defence, I put this in place because I
wanted your parents and friends to see you’re all right.”
“I thought we’d done that with press conference?”
“Sweetheart, I want to celebrate the rebirth of our marriage, show everyone we’re back together. I’ll understand if you want to cancel until after we’ve dealt with Mwana, but I thought you’d also want to celebrate our special occasion.” “Special occasion?” she asked, puzzled.
He pulled her closer. “Have you forgotten what day tomorrow is?”
Frowning, she started to shake her head, but then the date burst through her brain like an exploding firework.
“Oh, my God, Nick, I can’t believe I did!” Deep chagrin tinged her voice.
“With everything that’s gone on lately, I don’t blame you for forgetting we will be married exactly one year tomorrow.”
“But how could I?” Tears clouded her eyes. Her wedding day had been the happiest day of her life.
“You probably buried it subconsciously because our marriage didn’t turn out the way you’d envisioned it. And for that, I’m sorry.” Nick brushed away a tear from her cheek. “It’s okay, yineka mou . I won’t hold it against you. But we need to decide whether we’re going ahead with the party or not. According to Bertrand, the
RSVPs have been coming in thick and fast.”
“Oh, no. How many people did you invite?”
“Only those important to us. And one or two business associates.” The poker face he tried to adopt didn’t pass muster.
“Nick! That’s about half of London.”
A very Greek shrug manifested itself as he tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Can you blame me for wanting to show off my beautiful wife to the world?”
Ignoring her palpitating heart she said, “Not normally, but I think tomorrow is a special day, a day for us, and I’d like to keep it intimate, if you don’t mind.”
“And this will make you happy?” he asked, an intent look in his eyes.
Feeling the tears threaten again, she nodded. “Then I will make it so.”
“Won’t they be upset?”
“They know what you’ve been through. I’ll smooth things over. I suspect Jameson will be pleased, too, for security reasons.”
In the end, they settled for a modest guest list of twenty-five, and she felt relieved when she learned Nick, through Bertrand, had already set events in motion. Dealing with floral arrangements and extensive menus had never been her forte.
While Bertrand handled the caterers and florists, she wrestled with what dress to choose from the twelve her stylist had delivered that morning. When she found out Nick had arranged for her to visit a beauty spa, she felt secretly grateful. Her hair had grown wild and unkempt in the last two months. A simple solution would have been to scrape it all up for the evening, but she didn’t put it past Nick, who loved her hair down, to put a cog in that plan.
She was picking matching jewellery for her final three dress choices when she heard Bertrand’s raised voice. She went into the kitchen where he was just hanging up the phone.”
“Is everything all right?”
“It’s nothing, Madame. Just dealing with the catering company’s incompetence. Two of their staff have developed food poisoning. They are trying to find alternatives but—” He threw up his hands in an uncharacteristic Gallic display of frustration.
Belle hid her smile behind her hand. Only Bertrand would see someone coming down with food poisoning as a personal affront to his well-laid plans.
“Do you need me to do anything?” she offered.
“ Non , Madame, merci . It is a mere hiccup. I will deal with it.” He straightened his cuffs and picked up the phone again.
“Great. Thanks, Bertrand.” She couldn’t suppress her smile as she returned to her room. Suddenly, it felt good to be home.
Their anniversary day dawned bright if a bit on the chilly side. After a frantic call to Liz, her friend had offered to come to the salon with her. Belle tried to ignore the cynicism in Liz’s tone when she’d heard the reason for the salon session. They met at a swanky café on the Kings Road, a few streets from the spa, and they’d barely sat down with their mocha lattes before her straight-talking friend plunged into conversation.
“You and Nick are truly back together together, I see,” she said with a meaningful glance at her wedding rings.
“Yes, and before you start giving me a hard time again, I want you to know it won’t be like last time. I love him, Liz, but I’m no longer living under his thumb. He knows I won’t take that. This time we’re both going into it with our eyes wide open.”
“And what about the children issue?” her friend pressed.
“We’ve discussed it, and I know where he’s coming from. That’s all I can say on the matter.” She bit her lip. “The bottom line is, I want to be Nick’s wife, and he wants to be my husband. We’ll work the rest out,” she said philosophically.
Her friend regarded her silently with shrewd green eyes, her elfin like, no-nonsense face serious. Then after taking a sip of her drink, she said, “You know what? I believe you. You’re not the same half-broken girl I helped pack for Nawaka two months ago. For his sake, I hope Nick knows how special you are. But never fear, I’ll be around to remind him just in case he forgets. And I shall be armed with a very fat stick. Now, do you want to tell me what the half-dozen-bodyguard thing is all about? I read a little about the guy who ’napped you. Surely you don’t think he’ll try anything here?”
The reminder that the danger wasn’t over put a damper on her happy day. “It’s not quite over yet. But I’m determined to enjoy my anniversary.” She summoned a bright smile.
By the time they reached the spa, the easy camaraderie that had made them best friends despite their starkly different personalities had been restored.
Belle arrived back home with two hours to spare before the party started. Shutting the door behind her, she immediately sensed something was wrong. Bertrand, who appeared from the kitchen to relieve her of her bags, appeared tense. Her trepidation increased.
“We have a visitor, Madame. Monsieur is in his study with her.”
“Her?” Nick hadn’t told her he was expecting anyone.
“ Oui , she gave her name as Madame Bravington.”
Belle nodded but then saw Bertrand was still frowning. “What’s wrong?” she asked.
She forced herself to stay silent as the butler wavered. “If I may say, Monsieur was not very happy to see her.”
“Thank you, Bertrand. I can take it from here.” She waited until he’d disappeared down the hall before walking toward Nick’s study. As she approached the door, she bit her lip, in two minds whether to interrupt.
In the end, her peace of mind didn’t give her a choice. She knocked and entered.
The woman who sat with quiet composure facing a stone-faced Nick across his desk appeared to be in her early sixties. With blonde hair worn in stylish shoulder-length layers and a superbly cut pink skirt suit that screamed haute couture, she held herself in almost regal elegance. One hand was folded over the other in her lap, and Belle saw a huge pink diamond on her ring finger.
It only took a second to take all this in and focus on the face that turned when Belle entered. It took another second to see the resemblance and realize this woman was none other than Nick’s mother.
Nick got up, his movements jerky and unlike his usual graceful, sexy walk as he came toward her.
“Tinkerbelle, I wasn’t expecting you until—” He paused and glanced at his watch, his face registering surprise at the time. Leaning down, he placed an uncharacteristically chaste peck on her cheek before reluctantly turning to the other occupant in the room.
“Let me introduce you to my mother, Amanda Bravington. Mother, my wife, Belle.” The clinical precision with which he made the introduction made Belle cringe. Before she could respond, the other woman came toward her, both hands outstretched.
“Belle, I’m so pleased to finally meet you. I’ve been waiting so long to meet Nick’s wife, and now that I have, I curse myself for waiting this long.” Taking both Belle’s hands in hers, she kissed her on the cheek, and when she straightened, her lashes simmered with tears.
Emotion clogged Belle’s throat as she fought for a response. “It’s good to meet you, too, Mrs. Bravington,” she responded, aware of Nick’s stiffness beside her.
Gray eyes similar to Nick’s sparkled with genuine warmth. “Please, call me Amanda. And I’m so glad to see you well after what you went through. I came as soon as I heard.” She cast a quick glance at Nick, a glance filled with pain and uncertainty.
Nick’s face remained granite-hard, and she felt a rush of sympathy for the other woman. Despite what had happened, and despite Nick’s opinion of her, it was clear the woman loved her son.
“Thank you, Amanda,” Belle replied, then to break the awkward silence which ensued added, “Will you be staying? I’m sure Bertrand can prepare?—.”
“No, she won’t be staying. In fact she was just leaving, weren’t you, Mother?” Cold eyes demanded only one answer from his parent.
Sighing, Amanda dropped Belle’s hands, stepped back, and went to pick up her purse. “Yes, I was just leaving. But before I do, I’d like to give you this.” She came back toward them, holding up a small package to Nick. “I know today’s your first anniversary, and I hope you’ll accept this small gift.” Her lilting voice held tremulous hope as she looked at her son.
He regarded the present, and Belle prayed he wouldn’t refuse it. After a tense moment, he took it from her. “Thank you. We appreciate it.”
Belle smiled, hoping to ease the harshness of Nick’s curt response. In silence, they walked to the door, and with a murmured goodbye, Amanda left.
Belle turned to Nick as soon as the door shut behind her.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I didn’t invite her here, you know. She just turned up,” he said.
“I know, but did you get a chance to talk to her?”
“She did most of the talking. I listened.”
Hope spurted inside her for him. “And?”
His movements were still jerky as he paced to the window and back again. “Things aren’t as clear-cut as I thought. Look, I don’t want to talk about it now, okay? We have just over an hour before our guests arrive. We should be getting ready.”
His mother’s unexpected appearance had obviously upset him, and Belle wanted to comfort him. He tried to hide it, but his body’s tension and the taut blankness on his face belied his calm. Resolving to speak to him after the party, she left him in the lounge to go over last-minute details with Bertrand.
When she entered the bedroom ten minutes later, he was in the shower. Shedding her clothes, she entered the bathroom. He turned when she slid back the shower door, and for a split second, she saw a bleak look cross his face.
Without a word, he took her in his arms. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I don’t want you to be caught in the middle of all of this.”
“I’m in it for better or worse, remember?” He sighed and nodded.
“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked. “She seemed happy to see you.”
“Well, she’s good at that, at pretending like nothing’s happened. Like she can just waltz in and pick up where she left off twenty years ago. You know why? Because she’s married. Again. Her new husband probably wants to meet me. God, last year she was Amanda Oldfield, two years before that, she was something else. Do you know every man she decides to marry is always the one true love of her life ? Of course, her so-called true love doesn’t stand the test of time, because the moment she feels unhappy, she hightails it to divorce court faster than a speeding bullet.” He stopped, sucked in a huge breath, and cursed. “Damn it, I wasn’t going to do this.
“Hey, I’m glad you did. She hurt you, and there’s no excuse for what she did, but perhaps if you gave her a chance to explain…?”
His smile was tight. “She did. And maybe it’s not even out of the realm of possibility that I buy her explanation. But rational or not, the ten-year old boy inside me isn’t ready to accept it yet.” The pain in his voice was unmistakable.
“I’m so sorry, darling.” She went into his arms and kissed him.
He pulled her closer, deepened the kiss. In uncharacteristic silence, he made love to her.
Afterward, Nick seemed restored to his old self.
“You look breathtaking.” He eyed her new layered hairstyle and the navy blue form-fitting floor-length dress with off-the-shoulder sleeves and plunging neckline she’d settled on.
“You’re not so bad yourself,” she smiled, her appreciative gaze lingering over the designer tuxedo he wore over his pristine, black-studded shirt.
“I have something for you.” He plucked the velvet case from on top of his drawer. He opened it, and nestling on the black velvet bed were a diamond and sapphire necklace with a motif depicting two lovers entwined, along with matching sapphire earrings in a bezel setting.
“Oh, my God, Nick, they’re stunning!”
“Not as stunning as you, matia mou . Nothing could ever surpass your beauty, and the joy I feel from knowing you’re my wife again,” he said huskily. “Turn around.”
She obliged and placed the necklace round her neck. She blinked back tears, along with the lancing pain she felt because the word love still hadn’t passed his lips. This was enough…for now.
When she faced him again, her feelings were under control. Going to the bed, she fetched his gift and presented him with it.
He opened the oblong box that held a gold-embossed scroll, uncurled it, and read the words in silence.
I carry your heart.
“This is the e.e. cummings poem we read at our wedding,” he said in a hushed voice.
She nodded. “I’d planned on giving it to you on your birthday two months ago, but…” But they’d been apart by then.
He looked at her, a strange light burning in his eyes. “Thank you. It means more to me than you know,” he murmured.
Taking her in his arms, he kissed her long and hard.
She was halfway to melting against him when the peal of the doorbell interrupted.
Stepping back, Nick held out his arm. “It’s show time. Let’s go and greet our guests.”
“Excuse me.” Belle smiled at Nick’s London right-hand man, Austin Benjamin, and his wife Tamara, and moved on to another couple. After chatting for a few minutes, she set her glass down and stepped out onto the balcony.
“You okay?” Nick approached her, looking breathtaking in his tuxedo.
She smiled up at him. “I guess. I’m not sure whether it’s my imagination, but I feel as if I’m being watched.” All through the dinner, which had been a raving success, she’d experienced the peculiar feeling.
Nick brushed his knuckle down her cheek. “Everyone is watching you, pethi mou .”
She rolled her eyes. “Why do you think I’ve escaped to the balcony? I’ve had enough attention to last me a lifetime. My parents keep watching me like I’m about to collapse in front of their very eyes. But it’s not that.”
He tensed. “What do you think it is?”
She shifted her shoulders but the unsettling feeling stayed with her. “I don’t know. Maybe I am imagining it.”
“Just say the word, and I’ll kick all these people out.”
She laughed and shook her head as Alex headed their way. When he started to grill her on the precise state of her health, she threatened to sic Liz on him.
He backed off immediately. “Whoa. Consider the question withdrawn.”
“Are you ever going to tell me what happened between you and Liz?” she asked him.
Alex grimaced. “She’s a ball-breaker, that one. I prefer women who don’t look at me as if deciding where to stick their stilettos.”
“Hmm, I see a dinner just for the four of us happening in the future.”
“You wound me, agapita . And after I risked life and limb for you.”
“And I appreciate it, but this is too good to pass up. I think—” She stopped abruptly as an unexpected shiver coursed through her.
A waiter was walking past with a tray of drinks. He stopped beside her. His name badge read “Steven.”
“Champagne, madam?” he asked with a smile.
She looked up at him, smiled, and shook her head. “No, thanks, Steven.”
“Baby, what is it?” Nick demanded as soon as the waiter moved off.
Belle looked over Alex’s shoulder at the guests and waiters milling in the living room. Nothing seemed out of place, and yet…
“I’m not sure.” Her father was still talking to the Finance Minister; her mother was waving around her multi-ringed fingers in emphasis of some point.
Sighing, she pinned a smile on her face. “Can we go back in?” She saw Alex and Nick exchange a look, but Nick nodded.
She didn’t want to feel uncharitable, but now that dinner and coffee had been served, she hoped it wouldn’t be long before the evening ended. No doubt she was out of sorts, because she hadn’t seen most of these people for over half a year. But right now, she just wanted to be alone with Nick.
She loved him. She needed to tell him that. Even if he couldn’t say it back.
Her father beckoned. With a sigh, she widened her smile and went to him.
Nick left his study, dark satisfaction lightening his feet. He re-entered the living room and made a beeline for Belle.
“Something’s happened,” she said as he drew her into a quiet corner.
God, how well she knew him.
He nodded. “John Allen just called. Mwana’s finally been tracked down to a small town outside Dusseldorf in Germany. Interpol is sending a division to the farmhouse he’s hiding out in.
We should have news in half an hour.”
“Oh, Nick! This…this could be over tonight?”
His sense of elation was heady. “Yes, apparently he bribed one of the charter pilots to alter the flight plan and fly him to Germany from Hong Kong three days ago. A member of the ground crew where the plane stopped to refuel spotted Mwana and alerted authorities. They traced the plane to a small airstrip near Dusseldorf.”
“How soon will we know?” she asked, desperately trying to stem the hope that threatened to flood her.
“How soon we will know what?” Alex said from beside them.
Nick filled him in.
“Excellent news. I’ll keep the champagne on ice.”
Nick suppressed the prickle of unease at the back of his mind as they rejoined the party and mingled with his guests. The news couldn’t have come soon enough. By night’s end, he and Belle could draw a line through this sorry mess and get on with their life together. Although he wouldn’t rest until he heard the man was in custody, the news pleased him nonetheless.
Sliding an arm around his wife’s waist, he kissed the side of
her neck.
She smiled up at him. “What’s that for?”
“Is it against the law for a man to kiss his wife in public?”
Her smile widened, and his heart turned over. “Not at all. Just thought I’d ask. Someone once told me there’s no such thing as a free lunch,” she responded drolly.
He laughed and leaning down, whispered in her ear, “You’re right. And I will make my demands very clear after our guests leave.” Watching her struggle to suppress the blush invading her stunning face, he wished the guests gone. The need to be alone with his wife was eating away at him. He had things to work through, things to explain.
The conversation with his mother replayed in his mind, as well. Had he judged her too harshly? Perhaps…
She hadn’t withstood the test of parenthood, but as Belle had driven home these last two weeks, it took two people to make a marriage work. If what his mother had said was true, then… “What are you thinking about?” his wife asked him.
He laughed. “Where shall I start? I’ve been thinking about my mother. I’ve decided to give her a chance. She was selfish and unloving when I was young, but people can change.”
Belle’s joy glowed from her face. Realizing she was happy for him sent a bolt of emotion so strong through him that he had to swallow several times just to be able to breathe.
God, now he really wanted to be alone with her.
Sighing under his breath, he turned to a passing waiter and picked up a glass of champagne. Surreptitiously, he glanced at the mantel clock—only he wasn’t sly enough. Alex, who stood talking to the Greek Ambassador, saw him and winked.
Casting him a wry smile, Nick heard him cut across what the Ambassador was saying. “I’m sorry, Mr. Ambassador, it’s getting late. I have a breakfast meeting tomorrow, so please excuse me,” Alex said, loudly, for other guests to hear.
The other man looked startled, but he nodded and shook the hand Alex held out.
Nick sent his cousin a grateful look when suddenly everyone concurred it was time to leave. Within half an hour, only the wait staff and Belle’s parents remained.
After seeing them off, she joined Nick on the balcony. “I saw you chatting to Liz earlier,” she observed.
“Yes, that friend of yours is a goddamned Rottweiler. Her grilling technique would be most welcome in the Marines. I had to swear my devotion to you on a stack of Bibles before she relented. She also said something about having my guts for garters. Oh, and I found out why she hates those guts so much.”
“Oh?”
“Yes, but I’m not telling you. Suffice it to say, I made a stupid comment that she took to heart. The air’s been cleared.” He made a silent vow never to discuss his wife while her best friend was in the vicinity.
A loud crash in the kitchen drew their attention. Belle answered his question before he voiced it. “There are one or two of the caterers still here.”
“You want me to go check?” he offered.
“No, you don’t want to go in there when Bertrand’s reading them the riot act for breaking his China. Allen should be ringing shortly, yes?” He didn’t miss the anxiety in her voice.
“Yes. Come with me to the study.”
He crossed to his phone the moment they entered his study.
“Anything?” Belle asked.
The answer phone light wasn’t blinking. He checked his cell phone. No missed calls. As a last resort, he fired up his laptop to see if there were any messages to his other accounts. When that drew a blank, anxiety crept through him. “No, there’s nothing. Damn it, we should’ve heard back by now,” he growled.
She slid a soothing hand over his nape. “Let’s give it a few more minutes?—”
A second crash from the kitchen made them both look up. “What the hell is going on—” He stopped abruptly when the phone rang.
Belle squeezed his shoulder. “Get the call. I’ll go and make sure everything’s fine in the kitchen.”
He snatched up the phone as she walked away, the seductive sway of her body making his breath catch all over again.
“Andreakos,” he rasped.
“Sir, we have a problem,” Allen said without preamble.
Nick froze. “What kind of problem?”
“The man we have here in Dusseldorf, he’s not Mwana. We’ve interrogated him. He goes by the name of Richard Francis, and he says he’s working with Mwana. I’m sorry, sir, but we think Mwana is?—”
“ Here ,” Nick finished for him, every muscle in his body clenching hard. A millisecond later, he dropped the phone. His chair crashed backward as he launched himself toward the door and hit the hallway in a dead run.
No! No, no, no !
The apartment was quiet. Too quiet.
The hairs on his nape rose, but he fought the alarm growing inside him as he veered toward the kitchen. Bodyguards were stationed downstairs and all around the building. No one could get in or out without being seen.
It’s nothing. You’re imagining things .
A heartbeat later, he knew he wasn’t.