HEAT Vol. 3 (Master Chefs: HEAT Series #3)

by Kailin Gow

  His voice was so deep and morose, I couldn’t believe he’d make a fuss because he missed out on a family vacation, as heartbreaking as that must have been.

  “As it turned out, me not going to New York turned out to be the best thing that could have happened, in a way. At least my parents still had me.”

  I looked at him, totally befuddled until I realized the year he’d mentioned. “Oh, my God. September, 2001.”

  “Yeah. They were coming down from the first tower, when the first plane hit. Still in shock they watched the second plane come around and hit the other tower. Nobody really understood what was going on. My father constantly called it the most surreal chaotic thing he’d ever seen.”

  “I’ve seen it in special reports that played at the ten year anniversary. Even though it was on television, I found it surreal, too.”

  “They never thought the towers would crumble and fall, and when they did, they weren’t ready.”

  I looked at him, shocked by what he was saying.

  “In the chaos, they lost sight of each other, but my parents found each other first, and when the dust settled they couldn’t find Errol at all. For months his photo was posted among the hundreds of photos of the missing. Eventually, they had to conclude that he’d been killed under the rubble that fell from the towers, burned into ashes like so many of the poor people who either fell to their deaths from the towers or were burned to death by the explosion.”

  “But, he wasn’t.”

  “No, as I’ve just discovered. I do know there were many families who never knew what happened to their loved ones for years and still couldn’t find out who survived and who didn’t. So many people’s lives were wiped out in an instant without a trace. Errol was so young and just a boy then, and when he couldn’t find us, he must’ve thought we’d all perished.”

  I nodded.

  “In any event, my mother never got over it. She was like a ghost of her former self, wandering the halls of our home with this constant vacant stare. Sometimes she would sit in Errol’s room for hours, hugging one of his jackets and rocking back and forth.”

  “That’s awful. I can’t imagine losing a child in such a way.”

  “At the first year anniversary, my parents divorced. The stress of it all got to them. She blamed him for bringing them to New York to begin with, and he blamed her for allowing Errol to come when he should have been in school.”

  He was silent for a long moment. “I can’t say I was particularly sad to see her go. I know that sounds mean and heartless, but I just couldn’t stand to see her look right through me anymore. You see, I looked like Errol, but I wasn’t. I was a constant reminder of the wonder boy she’d lost.” Turning to look at me, his eyes were angry and filled with pain. “A few months later she hung herself. They say she had a photo of Errol crumpled up in her hand.”

  “Oh, Rial. I’m so sorry.”

  “Don’t be. As far as I’m concerned, she died a year before that when they first left New York without Errol. After that, my father didn’t know what to do with himself. Suddenly, all the responsibility of what had happened fell on him, and it virtually buried him.” He shook his head and pressed a wry grin. “I’d always played second fiddle to Errol. He was always the model they held up to me, but no matter what I did, it was never enough. You’d think I might have caught a break when they lost him, that I’d become the favorite son, but no.” He looked at me. “It’s impossible to compete against a ghost. If anything, Errol was set on an even higher pedestal than before. And when my mother died, I became virtually none existent to my father. I guess I should feel grateful that he at least had the sense to find me a good home to dump me in.”

  “Rial, don’t say it like that. I’m sure your father had your best interest at heart.”

  He grasped my hand. “Sweet Lilly. Always so optimistic and ready to believe in the best of people. Always willing to give them the benefit of the doubt.” He grinned and kissed my hand. “My father trusted your father. They’d known each other for years, since childhood when their families knew each other. From ancient aristocratic families who have been close. He knew that you father would take care of me until he could get his head straight.”

  “But that was such a generous thing my father did for him… and for you. How did it all become such a mess?”

  “When my father picked himself up enough, his old friend, your father, gave him a job, and even invited him to come live at the chateau with him and his young daughter. As things continued to go well at home and at the office, they became partners, and we were promised to each other, as a way of strengthening our family ties. Business was booming and they were both rolling in money. Two years later, however, profits began to dwindle. Sales were up, but profits were down. They started arguing, accusing one another of making bad business decisions. Finally, your father came straight out and accused mine of embezzling, of being a crook. Mine turned around and accused yours of mismanagement. It all came to an end at a board meeting, right there in front of everyone. After that, your father kicked us out.”

  “Where d’you go?”

  He shrugged. “Some hotel in town. I’d never seen him so lost, and I was scared. I was afraid for him, and afraid for me. What were we supposed to do?”

  “What happened?”

  “I guess my father didn’t know what to do either, so he tried to find the answers at the bottom of a bottle of scotch, and when he didn’t find any, he looked in another bottle. When I went to bed that night, he could barely hold himself up, but he still had a glass in his hand, and when I woke up the next morning, he was dead.”

  I looked out the window in disbelief. It was all such an unbelievable story. “Your father drank himself to death?”

  “Yeah, that and a broken heart, thanks to your father.”

  “Rial, that’s not fair. Your father had been through a lot. You said so yourself.”

  “And my father had survived it all. But to be accused of embezzlement and a thief of a company he worked so hard to build up, and by his closest friend; it drove him over the edge. My father was disgraced. If your father had at least had the decency to discuss it with my father in private, to just come out and ask him what was going on, but no. He had to accuse him right there in front of everyone, and with some bogus reports that incriminated him.”

  “But you still can’t say my father killed yours.”

  He turned to me, his eyes dark. “Your father was a rich and powerful man, Lilly. All of Paris knew him, or knew of him. One word from him, and no one in all of France would have ever hired my father, not even to mop the floor. How was he supposed to recover from that, especially after all he’d been through? Your father knew that. He knew how weak he was, how fragile he was, especially after my father lost a son and then his wife, yet he still openly accused him. That was the bullet that killed him. He lost his dignity and pride…the only thing he’d had in his mind.”

  “He had you…”

  “No, he didn’t. I was just the child left behind, the unwanted one who lived in my dead brother’s shadows. My father didn’t know what to do with me after my mother killed herself. Your father was the one who convinced mine to have him and you look after me at the chateau. It was the only time I felt like I had a family again when I was with you here.” He took my hand in his before he said bitterly, “Then just like that, your father threw me out, abandoned me too. It was like taking a knife out and gutting me when he tore me apart from you, from my family…my chance at a family with my beloved Lilly.”

  Releasing my hand, he stood and looked out the window. Reflected in the glass, I saw his face, his eyes drenched in sorrow and loss. “So now you have your answers. I guess you have no other reason to remain here… with me. The limo will be out front waiting for you.” He turned on his heel and left me without a glance back.

  Stunned, I stared at him, unsure what to do. I could leave him to his misery. Like he’d said, I had my answers. Then again, I knew it wasn’t enough. I
couldn’t stand the pain I felt for him, and though my memories were scattered and vague, I felt a strong connection to him.

  I wanted more clarity. I wanted more of him. I just wanted more, especially why I couldn’t remember any of my past except when I entered the convent. What happened to me that made me lose all those memories?

  “Rial,” I called as I stood and headed out of the library.

  Chapter 8

  I reached the hallway, but he’d disappeared. On a hunch, I headed to the left hoping to find him, but as I turned down one hall and glanced in the various rooms, I suddenly became aware of how familiar it all was. Before I reached a door, I knew what lay behind it, and before I turned a corner, I knew what I’d found there.

  It had changed. The colors were different and updated, the fabrics a little more modern and the art more varied, but it was still the home I’d grown up in. As I reached the atrium, I suddenly remembered running through with Rial chasing after me. I’d been scared, and thrilled, and happy.

  Each turn brought a fresh memory and each door I opened brought me closer to my true past. As I passed through the grand salon, I saw a vivid image of Rial being scolded by his father. Rial had brought their beloved pet, Blanche, to a park near his school, but had neglected to keep the small dog on a leash. Eager to cross the street to chase another smaller dog, Blanche had been struck by an oncoming car and her life had been snuffed out right in front of Rial.

  I could still remember it, his devastation and his guilt. His father, so cold and heartless, had berated him instead of consoling him. After the tirade, Rial had retreated to the study.

  I turned around and followed the same path he’d taken that day, certain I’d find him as I had found him then. Heartbroken and inconsolable, he’d sat stiff and unresponsive when I finally found him, tears streaming down his cheeks. Even a hug from my frail little arms and the promise that everything would be all right hadn’t stemmed the flow of tears.

  A boy of fourteen isn’t supposed to cry, I’d thought. But I’d been charmed and warmed to see this soft hearted side of him.

  As I opened the door to the study and found him gazing out at the acres that surrounded the chateau, I was charmed and warmed all over again. He could be so brash and bold, even arrogant, but I’d always adored the tender side of him.

  At that moment, seeing his sorrow reflected in the window, I saw the young boy, so sad, and so lonely. Feeling just like the little girl who’d desperately wanted to console him then, I walked up to him and touched my hand to his shoulder. He turned to me and I was crushed by his stormy eyes. So far away, it seemed he was in another time, reliving the tragedy that had been his life.

  Unshed tears gleamed in his eyes, but he quickly hardened his gaze and blinked the tears away as his gaze dipped into the opening of my robe. My breasts glistened with sweat and I could see the battle in his eyes; lust and loss; anger and hunger.

  Caught up in all the emotion, I too battled with my need to set things straight and a sudden desire to ease his pain in any way possible. My body longed for the latter, to ease his pain by satisfying my growing hunger. I was more aroused than the situation should have allowed, but I couldn’t deny the dampness in my panties and the burning in my gut.

  “You shouldn’t have had to go through all that alone,” I managed to say. “I’m sorry you feel such anger towards my father, that you hold him responsible for what happened, but you must put it past you and drop this whole revenge scheme of yours.”

  “He ruined our lives, Lilly. I lost everything because of him… my father… you. How should I get past that?” He grabbed my arms and pulled me close, crushing me against his chest, against the length of his body, so hard and tense, but it was the large bulge that poked at my belly that held my attention.

  For all his pain, he was just as aroused as I was. With his every breath, his hardened shaft twitched and nudged me, reminding me of the attention it sought, and reminding me how hungry I was.

  “My father’s no longer here,” I said softly. “You need to let it go. You need to move on from your past, from our past and move forward.” I brought my hand to his shoulder, hoping to soothe him. “Let go of the anger, Rial, before it consumes you for good.”

  “I can’t,” he muttered, his eyes pained, but still refusing to leave my breasts. “He insulted my family’s honor. He broke a sacred brotherhood. He betrayed me, but worse…what he did…he caused you to forget me, to forget everything about us.”

  Cupping his handsome face in my hands, I brought his gaze to mine and was once again taken aback by the beauty and pain. “But, Rial. I’m here. Despite everything, you found me and I’m back in your life once again. Please, let go of all that and let me help you. I can set everything straight between our families; help you find your honor again.”

  “Do you realize how far our families go back, Lilly? The ties that bound them as brothers, and the ties that now bind us go back before the days of Napoleon, or Charles or even Louis V… back to the days when France was a part of the Roman Empire. What your father did…” He shook his head.

  “But I’m the only one here. I’m the only one who can right the wrong and mend the fences that have been torn down, right? I’m the only one who can give you your dignity once again, dignity to your name… and to mine.”

  He nodded.

  “Maybe the whole reason behind our engagement was to keep our families together. I’m not sure I can guarantee that, but, Rial, I’m sure we could be friends, great friends.”

  “Friends?” He spat back at me. “You want us to be friends? That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve heard. I’ve longed for you for years, finally find you, finally taste the sweet juices that have been promised to only me and you want me to just… what? Shake your hand and wish you a good day?”

  “Rial, it’s just that…”

  “No. I felt you, Lilly. I felt the reaction of your body, the immediate response to my caress. You want me just as badly as I want you. Your lips may try to deny it, but your body can’t. It can’t lie. No, there will be no friendship between us, but a veritable relationship between a man and his woman.”

  “Then, tell me, Rial. How can I right the wrongs of the past, of my father?”

  “Be mine.”

  “Rial, you know I can’t do that. I’m with Bobby.”

  “Really? Are you two engaged? Has he bought you a ring?”

  “No, it’s far too soon for that, but… well… He’s the first serious relationship I’ve had. I don’t want to rush into anything, and I’m sure he doesn’t’ want to either.”

  “You really think that’s the reason? Really, Lilly. The boy’s barely reached puberty. You think he has the maturity it takes to satisfy a woman like you?”

  I didn’t want to admit just how close to the truth he was. Bobby did have an immature side to him, and he was only in the first year of culinary school while I was working and had even taught at his school. In fact, he still relied heavily on his sister, and on Errol. Our sex life had become a little routine lately. In fact, our entire relationship had become routine and there was no hope of an engagement in sight, although he seemed serious about me.

  There was also the matter of an entire ocean that would ultimately separate us. My life was in France and I wanted to stay there, while his was in New York and he’d surely want to return once his studies were completed.

  As I thought more about Bobby and me, I realized we were headed straight towards a dead end, but were too blind to see it.

  “Do you think he could take care of you like I would, that he would make hot, passionate love to you every night and be a loving and devoted husband everyday? He hasn’t the capacity or the means to treat you like a queen, not like I could.”

  He gestured around the elegance and opulence that surrounded us. “I can give you back your childhood home.”

  I looked at him as this reality sunk in. “Now that you mention it, how is it that you came to be in my home? What are you doing h
ere?”

  “I’ve had enough of your questions for now, Lilly. What I want to know is the meaning of the conflict I see so clearly in your eyes. I can see how tormented you are by your loyalty to that boy and your attraction to me.” He ground his teeth and leaned in close to my ear.

  Just the heat of his breath against my cheek was enough to drive me crazy, and my entire body responded.

  “You’ve always loved me. And in the year all that tragedy hit between our fathers, I fell in love with you. You just don’t remember how much we cared for each other so much so that you were willing to die for me once. You almost did, and that is how you came to be the way you are now. How you lost your memories. Memories or not, you're mine, Lilly. I hope you will remember how much you once loved me, but if I have to make you fall in love with me once again, I will.”

  “I wished I could remember everything…”

  “I do too, but it would be too painful. That’s why you’ve blocked those painful memories. After we left, and you got into an accident trying to go after me, against your father’s will, against the guards he placed outside so you couldn’t leave freely that you tried climbing out your window, only to fall nearly to your death…” He stopped then, catching his breath.

  “I did?” I asked.

  “I wasn’t there,” Rial said. “I wasn’t there to catch you.” He had tears in his eyes. “I heard about it years later, but you were no longer at the chateau. They said you attempted to run after me, and they guarded your room so the only way out was through your bedroom window which was so high from the ground. You climbed out, but lost your grip and fell so hard, you hurt your head, and after that your father took you somewhere for you to recover but you never went back to the chateau. You never tried to find me again. You forgot about me, and for that. For what your father did to you, I hated him even more.”