The Art of Retaliation

by Kingsley, Arabella

  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.”

  They sat back as the food was put in front of them.

  “Look let’s stop fighting and just enjoy tonight,” he said trying to diffuse another argument.

  She watched him taste the wine and th
en give his approval. Mara leaned towards him.

  “You’re impossible. You expect me to forget everything that you’ve done to me and act like we are out on a date.”

  “Yes I do for one night. Let’s just be friends.”

  He laid his hand on top of her own on the table.

  “Please.”

  She glanced down at her hand and sighed before drawing it away.

  “Tell me about your family. Do you have any brothers or sister?” he asked feeling down at the loss of her touch as he used it to pick up his wine glass.

  He was well aware of her family background but it was a good distraction and a way of putting her at ease.

  “Well there is my mother and my brother. My father died when I was young. We are very close. My mother is staying in Canada with family at the moment and my brother is a consultant at Guy’s Hospital in London.”

  Stephane watched her pick at the warm goats cheese that had melted onto the small triangles of toast. A delicious sweet aromatic smell emanated from the bed of lettuce that was bathed in oil and on which the display sat. It looked appetizing but Mara seemed reluctant to eat it. He couldn’t help fearing for her health and the toll the whole situation was taking on it.

  “Please try to eat something. You were probably dizzy before because you haven’t eaten much all day,” he asked softly.

  “No I can’t.”

  “Damn it, Mara. You are ill. If you don’t I will lock you in your room and force feed you.”

  Mara looked at him petulantly but began to eat what she could.

  “What about your brother? What is he a consultant of?”

  “Trauma. He looks after patients when they come in to Casualty and then sees to them right through their treatment when they go on to the ward. He’s really very good.” she smiled in admiration. “He’s always so busy though I hardly see him. I feel as if I need to have an accident to see him.”

  She put a glass of mineral water to her lips.

  “I wonder what’s happening at work? I’m supposed to go back on Monday and I was supposed to meet with Matisse.”

  “Have you always corporate lawyer?”

  No I used to do criminal work.”

  But he already knew that. What he didn’t know was why she had given it up and gone in to Business Law. He’d found out everything he could about her before arranging her kidnap but this was the one area of her life that appeared to be shrouded in secrecy.

  “Why did you change?”

  “It’s a long story. I failed in a case I was trying to build. I never even managed to get it to trial. I was working for the Crown Prosecution Service at the time. People suffered because of it.”

  She fell silent.

  “Tell me about it. Sometimes it helps to talk about things and I am a good listener,” he gently probed.

  Mara put her napkin on the table next to her plate and he knew now she wasn’t going to eat any more food.

  “I lost all of my confidence after that case. I felt that everything I did was wrong, I had to get out.”

  “Is that when things started to go wrong with Ryan?”

  “Things had always been wrong but I chose to ignore it. I let him take advantage of me when my confidence had jumped ship. I was frightened to leave him in case I didn’t get anyone else. Why am I telling you this? What do you care?”

  “Tell me what happened with Ryan and the case,” he enquired ignoring the hurtful comment that he didn’t care about her.

  “The night he hit me I realized what he was doing. He said he loved me but it was more like wanting to control me. I left him and here we are now. He had the cheek to tell me it was all over the next day and that he was leaving me for another woman.”

  She said nothing more and pushed her plate away.

  “What happened with the case? Don’t keep it bottled up inside.”

  He wasn’t going to give up.

  “I was building a case around a violent high profile corporate criminal who defrauded his business partners, laundered money and ran protection rackets. One of the people arrested when we tried to round up his associates had been innocent and simply duped by him. I persuaded him to come forward and be a witness but he was murdered.”

  Mara dipped her head and her voice trembled.

  “His wife had just given birth to twins and she did all she could to persuade him not to come forward. I had a real battle on my hands but I won. After she found him shot in the head on their doorstep two months later she committed suicide. The family blames me.”

  Stephane immediately placed his hand over hers on the table and held it tightly. She didn’t object and he felt her cling to him it for support. When she raised her head there were tears in her eyes and one of them was rolling down her cheek. The Count couldn’t help himself. All he wanted to do was to soothe her pain. He caressed his fingertips along her pale cheek and brushed away the tear.

  “It isn’t your fault. You were doing your job. Somebody has to have courage and stand up to these people. You have to stop carrying this pain around, Mara.”

  A thought began to form quickly in his mind.

  “It is Abdul Hasseem isn’t it?”

  She simply nodded.

  “He is laundering money through Matisse’s company via a board member and this time we are collectively going to get him. That’s why he told you he would come for me whether you handed me over to him or not. He knows what we are planning. I think Matisse has gone in to hiding and that is why he didn’t turn up at the office the other day. Why would you involve yourself with a cromininal like Abdul? I don’t understand.”

  She paused and took a gulp of her wine. Stephane ran his hands through his hair.

  “It wasn’t me. It was my father. He tied us in to a contract with Abdul before we died. I have tried everything to get out of it. My father wouldn’t listen to me about it. Then he died and left me the mess to sort out.”

  “You know he is going to ruin you? The project he has going with you is a con.”

  “I suspected it. But he keeps his tracks covered. When this situation with Louise is over I will help you and Raymond bring him down. I promise you that,” he said with conviction.

  Stephane placed his hand over hers again. “And I won’t let him hurt you again,” he told her firmly narrowing his eyes with determination.

  She seemed to stare at him for a moment and then slowly nodded.

  The waiter came and took away their plates and replaced them with the main course.

  Stephane ordered a bottle of champagne.

  “What’s the occasion?” she asked cutting in to her steak.

  He had high hopes of her eating this time.

  “I just thought it might cheer you up. Look the band is setting up. May be I could get you dancing later.”

  Mara laughed.

  “I don’t think so. You know I am surprised at you, Stephane, I wouldn’t have thought that this was your scene, an old fashioned band.”

  “No it isn’t really but my father liked it and it reminds me of him.”

  “Excuse me. I’m Max Spencer and you are?”

  The billionaire looked up impatiently to find the blonde man standing over him extending his hand.

  “Stephane Garreau, ” he said taking it amused by his rival’s quaint formality.

  “I just wanted to ask whether or not Mademoiselle would like to dance and if you wouldn’t mind if she did, Stephane.”

  “Oh I am not sure,” Mara gushed and then grinned. “He gets very possessive.”

  She looked to Stephane for mock approval.

  “Why not as long as you promise to dance with me later,” he insisted frowning at the man and then her for taunting him.

  Why do you want to dance with him when I am here? We were just getting somewhere. You are doing this to tease me and get your own back. Have it your way, I don’t give a damn. I know you belong to me now and there is no escape. Dance all you want with him but you are mine and don’t forget it.
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  “I have a call to make anyway.”

  The smile quickly disappeared from Mara’s face. For a moment she looked hurt and he felt remorseful. He hated hurting her.

  The man said nothing and led her to the dance floor beginning to fill with couples. He held her hand in his and slipped an arm around her waist as they moved slowly around the dance floor in time to the music.

  “I see you are English as well. What’s your name?” he asked her.