Paradise: The Masters of The Order Novel Two

by Verne, Jillian

  He schooled a blank expression over his features and turned his attention to Nicolai, who stood next to him grinning like the cat that swallowed the canary. Damn, the perils of intimacy. Nicolai already saw what he had figured out only seconds before.

  “About what?” Jacques said trying to play it cool and hoping that Nicolai would go away.

  Yeah and hell will freeze over as the sky falls and Chicken Little runs down the yellow brick road to Oz.

  “About what. Really?” Nicolai tilted his head back toward Isabella. “Who is she?”

  Sir James had taken his opportunity and sauntered up to Isabella. The pair talked in hushed tones a few feet behind him.

  “A friend,” Jacques said nonchalantly, still trying to maintain the ruse.

  “A friend, my ass. You don’t introduce a friend to the entire room and look at her with that kind of admiration. If you’re going to make me guess, I would say she’s a lot more than a friend.”

  There was no avoiding him and Jacques knew it. Nicolai was locked on tight. He dragged his meddling cousin a few steps farther away from Isabella and James.

  “Okay. Maybe not a friend, but I’m not sure exactly what she is yet. I met her at your opening and well, things kind of evolved from there. But don’t get yourself all excited. We’re not lovers.”

  “Not yet, you dog. She’s magnificent. Almost as lovely as my Julianne.”

  Jacques was instantly annoyed at the lesser comparison and Nicolai burst into a laugh. Shit. How could I have fallen so easily into that trap?

  Nicolai was gloating as he spoke. “I knew it. As soon as you walked into the room, I knew. You’re falling in love with her. It took you long enough.” He raised his hand to Jacques. “And don’t you dare deny it. I am not blind. Especially to you, cousin.”

  “Jesus, Nico. You might be right, but keep your voice down or she’ll hear your romantic dribble. She’s staying at my place for a few days. We’ll see.”

  “On verra bien,” Nicolai repeated with a patronizing grin. “I can’t wait to see you tumble down that hill into ‘we’ll see.’”

  Nicolai smiled politely as someone strolled up to him and not so subtly tried to pull him away. Jacques groaned as Nicolai turned to his latest fan.

  One of Jacques’s assistants hurried over. “Sir, it’s time to get the live auction started. We need you at the podium.”

  Jacques turned back to Isabella who was still chatting away with James. “I’m sorry, darling, business calls. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He kissed her on the cheek before he stepped away.

  “Ladies and gentlemen. If I may have your attention. It is time for the live auction to begin. We start off with the opportunity of a lifetime. Gentlemen, which one of you will have your lover immortalized by one of today’s most provocative artists?” the auctioneer announced over the loud speaker. “Our first item for bid tonight is a portrait by Monsieur Nicolai Stavros.”

  There were gasps and applause all around the room. A spotlight landed on Nicolai and he bowed gracefully.

  “Who will get us started? The opening bid is 250,000€.”

  Jacques smiled at Isabella and raised his paddle.

  “Monsieur Meszaros has offered 250,000€. Anyone willing to offer 300,000€?”

  Sabin winked at Jacques and raised his paddle. Nicolai covered his mouth with a hand, unable to suppress his laughter.

  8

  You Ain’t Never Met A Woman Like Me

  While the auction continued, Isabella slipped outside, ostensibly to get a breath of fresh air, but actually to look for Jerard. She hadn’t missed the little exchange between him and Jacques and she was determined to help.

  When she spotted him sitting alone on the stone balustrade, she released the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. One hand rested over his bent knee, the other brought a cigarette to his lips as he stared off to the darkness beyond the harbor.

  Captivating. There was something so captivating about Jerard Gagne with his casual manner and his tortured, talented soul.

  Jerard didn’t turn as she sauntered over to him as if she didn’t have a care in the world. “Rough night?”

  “You could say that.” His voice was cold, detached, and the tone announced clearly that he preferred to be left alone.

  She ignored it and sat down next to him, letting her feet dangle over the stairs.

  “Now is not a good time, Isla. You should go back inside.”

  “Sí.” She didn’t. Just sat there in silence and looked up at the lights shining down on them.

  After another cigarette, Jerard spoke. “You know, it’s ironic. I don’t even smoke.” He flicked the butt over the edge with a disgusted sound and lit another. “I found these in the kitchen. Guess I’ll add smoking to my list.”

  “They’re mine,” Isabella groaned, mentally kicking herself for buying those damn cancer sticks.

  “You shouldn’t smoke, Isla.”

  “Said the man with the butt in his hand,” she smirked. “I don’t. I was feeling sorry for myself and I bought them. Things aren’t going so well for me right now, Jerard.”

  Jerard’s indifference morphed into immediate concern. “Did something happen with Jacques? Did he upset you?”

  “No. It’s not Jacques.”

  Maybe she should confide in Jerard. It would be nice to open up to someone and Jerard had a kind nature. Twice born as they say. Someone with the capacity to be unassuming, charitable and extraordinarily empathetic. It felt like she’d found a kindred spirit in him, but knew he wouldn’t keep a secret like hers from Jacques. She really wanted this time in Monaco, maybe even needed it, so she danced around the edge of the truth.

  “I got some bad news right before Nicolai’s opening. Sometimes it’s hard to handle stuff. Easier to avoid it, you know?” She didn’t want to cry so she looked down at her gold sandals to avoid those world-wise eyes.

  “Yeah, I get it. You don’t want to talk about it. That’s okay. I’m not going to push, but if you ever want to, Isla, I will listen. For the time being, I’ve got an unlimited supply of hugs. Remember?” He lifted his arm and she tucked herself into his side.

  “Ditto.”

  They sat there on the precipice of another comfortable silence, but silence wouldn’t get them anywhere so she piped up, “Jacques told me things aren’t going so well for you right now too, Jerard.”

  “We all suffer, Isla. I’m nothing special,” he said without looking her way, but his arm stayed put. Shutting her down, but not quite.

  “I disagree. You are very special. You have ridiculous talent and you’re very generous. Craig told me about the incredible work you do at the Art Saves Center. How you’re expanding the program and opening more facilities around the city. I admire you for it.”

  “It’s no big deal. I’m just giving back something that was given to me when I was a kid.”

  She eased away and gave him her best ‘are you crazy?’ stare. “Um, Jerard. It is a big deal. A very big deal. Most people don’t even try. Don’t put yourself down like that.”

  That earned her a raised eyebrow and a wry grin.

  “I’m not a rich man like Jacques. I mean, this thing with Darion and my art looks like it might make me that way, but I grew up poor, Isla. No matter how many zeroes are in the bank account, you can’t escape your roots and mine are rotten.”

  She had grown up poor as well, but her roots were anything but rotten. It wasn’t easy living without money, but she’d never felt like it made her less. Her family was the greatest conglomeration of oddballs imaginable and the love they poured into her was endless. She’d learned at a very young age what real riches were. Jerard was obviously not so blessed.

  “Craig told me about your opening at Darion’s gallery. That’s huge. He said people are clamoring for your art and I suppose that means they clamor for you too. Is it hard to handle? The fame.”

  “Let’s just say that when others look at you like you’re special, it kind of
makes you feel inadequate. Like you can’t live up to the expectations. I have confidence in my art. It’s what I live for, but the rest, well, there I’m not so confident.”

  The picture was becoming clearer by the word. Looking at Jerard, it was so easy to judge the book by the cover. But behind that cool façade, Jerard was insecure. Just like everyone else. Craig told her about his newfound fame. Maybe it only made the insecurity worse. Maybe he was afraid the world would see whatever bad things he saw in himself. Maybe he was trying to escape something he was afraid to face. Just like her.

  She put a hand over his thigh. “My grandfather told me that if you share your burden, it’s not so heavy.”

  “Are you close to your family?”

  “Very. My grandparents raised me and my four brothers. I’m the baby. My parents worked hard, but that’s a lot of mouths to feed. We never had much, but we had each other.”

  “Four older brothers. Wow. Jacques better watch his step.”

  “I’ve threatened him with them already.” She winked at him.

  “You’re not like anyone I’ve ever met, Isla. It’s like there’s a light inside of you and it warms everything it touches. I can understand why everyone loves you so much.” He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed the knuckles.

  She twined her fingers between his. “There are people who love you too, Jerard. Jacques for one. Any maybe me too, a little. You made my heart skip a beat when I first met you. Still do.”

  He laughed in that humble way he had. “Ditto.”

  “If you ever need a friend to talk to, I’m here for you.”

  “Things are kind of messed up for me right now, but thanks, Isla. I’ll keep that in mind.”

  She wasn’t about to let him brush her off. “Messed up how?”

  At first, he didn’t answer. As the time ticked by in silence, his eyes flicked to her a few times while she pretended to people watch. Eventually he said, “I’ve gotten myself into something that I’m not sure I can get out of.”

  She turned to face him directly. “You mean the drugs? Don’t bother to deny it, Jerard. I’m a nurse and I’ve seen this shit firsthand. More times than I care to admit. One of my brothers fights addiction. I helped him while he was still lost and together we kicked that bitch’s ass.”

  “My God, girl. You have a dirty mouth,” Jerard said, shaking his head with a smile. “I love it.” Then he squeezed her hand and to her utter shock, said, “Things have gotten out of control, Isla. I don’t know what to do. I honestly don’t. At first, the drugs were fun, but too soon, things went from a game to a habit. I opened Pandora’s box and the demons are taking over.”

  Without letting go, she raised her free hand to turn his head and make him look straight into her eyes. “The first step is the hardest, Jerard, and you just took it. Admitting that you have a problem is the first step to dealing with it.”

  Her heart broke as those soulful brown eyes teared up, so lost and ashamed, but she kept going. “I don’t judge you, Jerard. We all make mistakes, but I’m not going to lie. You’ve probably done enough of that to yourself. You’re facing a hard road. Perhaps the hardest you’ve ever travelled, but you’re strong. Think about where you began and look at how far you’ve come. You don’t have to travel the next length alone. If you want help, there are people who will help you. Jacques will help you. I will help you.”

  She leaned forward to kiss him gently on the lips.

  Jerard didn’t say anything. Only stared into her eyes as the glittering crowd swirled past them and her fingers stroked the beard at his jaw.

  “When you’re ready, just say the word and I will help you. Please, please let me help you.”

  Something in Jerard’s eyes told her he would take her up on her offer so she let silence fill the space between them. There was nothing more to be said right now. Better to simply let him look into her eyes and feel the peacefulness of connecting.

  No esperes demasiado, Jerard. Please, don’t wait too long.

  *****

  “He’s falling hard, Sabin. So damn hard.”

  Nicolai couldn’t hide the absolute glee on his face when he returned to Sabin's side.

  “No shit. He just paid 750,000€ for a portrait by you and I’m willing to bet that it won’t be his ugly mug you’ll be photographing.”

  “We can’t let this opportunity go. It’s priceless. They’re not lovers. Jacques is fighting it, but I can tell, it's a losing battle. He tried to hide it from me. Can you believe that?” A pained look crossed Nicolai's face. “Do you have any idea how much abuse I took from him over Julianne?" His hands flew into the air. "Months of it. He tortured me for months.” Then his eyes sharpened on Jacques. “Méfiez-vous, Jacques. Your time has come.”

  “Jacques was worse than me?” Sabin asked, appalled at the thought that Jacques had bested him on hazing Nico about Julianne. “Well, I’ve gotta step up my game and I think we just found my next target.” He looked over his shoulder at Jacques as Nicolai purred into his ear.

  “You wait, brother, yours will too.”

  “And I’m looking forward to it. Is it you or me?”

  “Has to be you. He won’t fall for it if it’s me. Remember Julianne, the gorgeous ingénue who shares my bed?”

  “Screw you, Nico,” Sabin said with a smile and stretched his arms out in front of him like he was loosening up for a fight. “Well, I suppose the burden falls on the blonde once again.” He punched the air. “And who would I be if I didn’t take up the mantle?”

  “You would be…how do you say it in Texas?... a pussy.”

  “Pussy is the same in every country, my friend," Sabin said around a laugh. "How bad we talkin' here?”

  “I’m not sure. I haven’t met his Siren, but if she caught Jacques’s eye, she must be a hellion. Maybe enough of one that we can let her in on the joke.”

  “Already on it,” Sabin said as he put on his best swagger and sauntered over to Jacques’s mystery lady as she reentered the ballroom.

  “Ev’nin’, darlin’. The name’s Sabin Timonen.” He bowed slightly and put his hand over his chest. “And you will just about break my heart if you don’t dance with me.”

  *****

  Hola, sunshine.

  The blonde Adonis in front of her was a sexy cocktail of southern American charm and supermodel good looks. He had a high forehead, a square jaw and a wide mouth that curved up with a devilish grin to flash his perfect white teeth. The waterfall of golden hair cascading over his broad shoulders did nothing to detract from his potent masculinity. He carried off the meticulous tuxedo to perfection, but it was pretty clear he would look equally great donning tight jeans, a plaid shirt and well-worn cowboy boots.

  Isabella cleared her throat before speaking to make sure her voice wouldn’t squeak. “Sabin. Aren’t you a friend of Jacques?”

  “Sure am, darlin’. A very good friend.”

  Wait a minute. This guy is a friend of Jacques, yet he's looking at me like he wants to...She poked a finger into his chest and looked up, way up, at him. “Then why the hell are you hitting on his date?”

  Sabin backed up and raised his hands in surrender, but the shit-eating grin stayed plastered across his face. “Whoa. Don’t get me wrong, darlin.’ I would adore gettin’ close to a pretty little thing like you, but that’s not what I’m after. Not unless you tell me your heart doesn’t beat for my boy.”

  She eyed him suspiciously. “Then exactly what are you after, big guy?”

  “A little fun.”

  She glowered at him. She may be dressed all “come hither,” but that was for Jacques, not some guy who purported to be his friend. She looked the blonde stranger up and down trying to spot the knife he planned to stick into her man’s back.

  Hang on, Isla. Jacques is not “your man.” Maybe for a few days, but there is no long term with him. Or for you, for that matter.

  “I mean a little joke,” Sabin corrected.

  “On whom?” she asked absently.
<
br />   Sabin tilted his chin to Jacques who was courting a posse of old geezers. Boring for sure, but very lucrative.

  “I bet you can guess.” When her stare returned to his, all of the playful flirtation went bye-bye. “Darlin’, please tell me I didn’t put that look on your pretty face. What’s wrong? And don’t say nothin'. I can see it.”

  She shook her head to bring her focus back to the man in front of her. The concern in those baby blues was genuine.

  One minute, he’s coming on to me and the next, he’s genuinely concerned because I look sad. She didn’t get it. “Why do you care? You don’t know me. I’m just a pretty little thing at a party who you decided to hit on.”

  Big guy suddenly got a little taller and a little cooler. “First, you are an exquisite woman who honors me simply by your presence. Second, I’m not really hitting on you. As I said, I was just tryin’ to have a little fun by playin’ a joke on my friend. And third, in my world, darlin’, if my brother cares about you, I care about you. Here’s a newsflash, he does. So talk.”

  The posture, the tone of voice, the intense eyes. No doubt about it. Isla, meet Dom number three. Are all of Jacques’s friends like this?

  “I’m fine, really.”

  “You don’t know me and you obviously don’t trust me. Given our little exchange here,” Sabin waved his hand between them, “I understand why. But I’m tellin’ you true, darlin’, I care and if I can do anything to put a smile back on your face, name it and it’s yours.”

  “Thank you, I think.”

  He nodded, looking very assured of something. “Back to the fun stuff. I know you just met Jacques, but you seem like a smart woman and smart women know that a bucking bronco doesn’t come into the stall without a fight. If I know Jacques, and I know Jacques, he’s fallin’ hard for you. That means he will try to push you away. I expect you don’t want that and given that our boy has never looked at another woman the way he looked at you tonight, we don’t want that either.”