by Autumn Grey
He finally turned around to face me. “Today was a little too much and I couldn’t handle what I had just learned.”
My eyes burned and my chest hurt with this story. I squeezed my eyes shut to stop the tears because he would think that he had upset me. In truth, I wanted to cry for him. I kissed his chest, pressing my face onto his drenched shirt.
A bastard. Now I understood his unwavering devotions to his son. God, his father is such a dickhead.
I cleared my throat to get rid of the lump stuck in there. “Just because he called you a bastard doesn’t make you one, Remington. It doesn’t define who you are. You chose your path and made a life of your own. I’m so proud of you.”
He pulled me into him and hugged me tightly. I sank into his arms, smiled, and breathed in his sweaty body, glad he was safe.
I leaned back and took his face in my hands. His haunted gaze searched mine, but behind it, I could see the strong man I’d come to know. “You are human, Remington. No one expects you to handle everything,” I said. His jaw was set into an angry stubborn line. I wasn’t sure what I said got through into his head; he was such a proud man.
After making sure Adrien was distracted, I led Remington upstairs to our bedroom, locked the door and guided him to the bed. I placed my hands on his hips, looked up and found his gaze focused on my face. I pushed his running shorts down his thighs, my eyes never leaving his, and felt him shiver as my fingers connected with his hot, sweaty skin.
“What are you doing, ma belle?” He asked in a hoarse voice.
“I want to make something clear,” I echoed the words he’d spoken to me not long ago. When he was naked, I stripped off my clothing, tossing them on the floor and turned around. His cock, already hard, stood proud and ready. I placed a hand on his chest, pushing him backward. He landed on his ass on the bed. I crawled on his lap and straddled him. I bit back a smile. Yay to this new Seductress Selene. “Put your hands on my hips.” He licked his lips before doing as I ordered and lifted his gaze, now dark and hungry with desire.
“You are human. You are allowed to hurt. To cry even. Your father is a selfish son of a bitch, but you, baby, you turned out to be this exceptional man who hides a big heart inside this tough exterior. You are human, Remington.” I lifted myself on my knees, guided his dick to my entrance, and then stared into his eyes. I watched him as I slowly lowered myself, taking him inside me. “Give me your fears, Remington. Trust me enough to let me in. I’m here, baby. I’m here to catch you.”
With that, I moved up and down, his strong hands lifting me and lowering me with exquisite care. Our gazes locked on each other. I felt the minute he let himself go because his hands left my hips and slid his arms around mine to hold onto my shoulders. I wrapped mine around his waist. He pulled me to him, burying his face into my hair. His thrusts became urgent and his groans deep.
We climaxed at the same time and it was explosive but quiet, which was a first for us. I held him as we came down, but realized he was shaking as if his body was about to break into pieces. I hugged him tighter, rubbing a hand on his back. His sobs were muffled by my shoulder and it felt as though his heart were being ripped out of his chest. Had he ever shared how he felt with anyone? When did he last cry, really cry?
As painful as the sounds soaking into my bones were, I was glad he had opened up to me and let me see this side of him. I admired him a lot for that.
REMINGTON HAD been gone for two days, and even though he called any chance he got, we really missed him. Caleb wasn’t doing well. His kidneys weren’t responding to the medication and the doctors were looking for a different solution. So far, Adele and Remington had taken a donor cross match test, and Remington was a match.
The rooms in the château still echoed with memories of him, walking in and out. Adrien missed his father, too, but was easily distracted by Èric. The fact that Remington had trusted me enough to leave his child behind floored me. My thoughts kept drifting to Remington as a child, stuck in an elevator, and then images of his father beating him. He’d gone through so much in his thirty-three years that it put my own experience to shame. Remington was such an easy man to love, and being with him made me realize how exhausting it had been, trying to make James love me back, especially during the last year before the divorce.
Curling up on a lounge chair on the patio, I opened my notebook and closed my eyes, pushing those thoughts away and conjuring up a photo shoot. Something sexy, like a boudoir session. What made them so sensual? My mind’s eye flipped through my memories and when I opened my eyes, I started drawing, filling page after page with drafts of different designs, including as many details as I could. I would go back to the designs and fill them in later. Some of them were hideous and some I could imagine would be breathtaking. Because I had been caught up in my task, I didn’t catch the additional scent in the air . . . like burning trees.
My head snapped up from the book and I looked around; and I felt blood drain from my face. Smoke rose from the fields beyond the lush garden. I jumped from the seat, scanning around. Most of the workers who tended the fields had gone home.
Where the hell is Adrien?
My heart pounded in my chest as I dashed down the paths, calling his name. Seconds later I heard someone call my name. I spun around and saw Èric sprinting toward me.
“I saw it from my room,” he said, his eyes scanning the compound quickly and efficiently. “When did you last see him?”
I pointed at the muddy patch close to where I’d been sitting. “He was there.” How could I have let him out of my sight? “Let’s split up and search for him.” He nodded and we parted, heading in different directions.
Suddenly, classical music blared around the garden, loud and frightening. I spun on my heel, searching for the source, but I couldn’t see anything. My heart thumped with every single beat and sweat trickled down my temples and spine.
I know this song! It was Tchaikovsky’s “Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy.” Among all the operas, The Nutcracker was my favorite. I’d always loved this piece, but now, it sounded creepy. The smoke, swirling in the air didn’t make things better.
Adrien. I snapped out of my trance and bolted toward the tree house, climbing up the wooden steps on trembling legs, but he wasn’t there. Desperation and nausea swirled inside my stomach as I ran down the path leading to the wall where the fire was feeding on whatever vine or grass was in its way.
“God, please. Keep him safe,” I murmured repeatedly. I squinted as tears ran down my face brought on by the smoke and dread. He had to be safe. Determination fueled my feet forward, and I ducked as the fire roared, sending tiny sparks of flame in the air.
As I rounded the corner, heading toward a little pond on the east side of the garden, I heard a small cry. I peered through the smoke, pulling my shirt over my nose. Adrien pushed himself farther into what looked like a cave or an alcove.
“Thank God,” I muttered under my breath, ran toward him and ducked low to avoid bumping my head on the stone. He was curled into a ball with his legs pulled into his chest. His eyes were wide with fear. Soot covered his face, his cheeks were streaked with tears, and his body trembled in fear. I crouched low, my arm gripped his little body to mine, and we crawled out of there.
I took him in my arms, held him tightly, and suppressed a sob. I pressed a kiss on his hair. “Everything is all right now, darling,” I said soothingly. “Are you okay?”
He nodded, his bottom lip trembling. The music stopped as suddenly as it had started.
Holy crap! What in the hell is that music all about?
By the time we made it back to the house, the men from the fire department were just arriving. They spoke in rapid French and seconds later, they rushed out through the gardens. Èric must have called them from his cell.
Èric bolted through the door. As soon as he saw the boy, relief washed over his face, replacing the worry and panic on his face.
“Is he all right?” he asked, his eyes roaming over Adrien’s face and body. Adrie
n whimpered, turning to hide his face into my chest as he sobbed softly.
“He looks okay, but he needs a doctor to check if everything’s all right.”
“A doctor is waiting inside. The fire brigade arrived and are now trying to keep the fire from spreading.” He turned to guide us back the way he’d come but stopped, his gazed focused on the space above my shoulder, frowning.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, following his gaze. My heart sped up as I stared at the bouquet of red irises on one of the poolside lounge chairs.
Èric walked around us, heading for the pool. He jogged back with the flowers in his grip. There was no letter, but we knew who sent them. With one last glance around, Èric put his arm around my shoulder and guided us toward the house.
I tried to push aside the memory of those flowers so I could focus on Adrien, but it was impossible. Shit. What if the sender was watching us, getting off on the fact that we were scrambling around in the mayhem he or she had created? Was she working alone? Maybe one of the château’s workers was involved in this. In all the time I’d been here, I had only seen one person inside the château, Monsieur Laurent, the winemaker. But according to Remington, Laurent’s family has worked in this estate for years. Why would he risk his family’s good name to destroy their reputation? Adrien whimpered again, yanking me from my thoughts. I glanced around, zooming in on a man with a stethoscope dangling around his neck. I hurried in his direction with Èric, still holding the awful flowers in his hands.
As soon as the doctor was done and reassured us that Adrien was okay and hadn’t inhaled too much smoke, I carried him upstairs. I filled the bathtub halfway full with water and then undressed the boy and lowered him inside. He soaked in a tub until his muscles relaxed.
“Please don’t leave me,” he said in French, his eyes huge and panic-filled when I walked the short distance to get a towel.
“I won’t leave you, honey. I’m here. I just wanted to get this.” I gestured to the towel. This was the first time he’d spoken since I found him huddled in the alcove.
“I want my papa,” he whispered as I wrapped him in the towel and carried him out of the room. Just then Èric walked into the room with a plate of sandwiches, a glass of milk, and orange juice and placed it on the desk by the window. He informed me he couldn’t get a hold of Remington on the phone. A complete disaster. The boy cried. The only thing I could do was hold him. He was inconsolable. Eventually, he fell asleep in my arms. God, I’ve never been so exhausted in my life. I felt helpless, scared, and tired.
After lowering the boy on the bed, I left Èric watching him and grabbed a pair of shorts and T-shirt from our room before hopping in the shower in Adrien’s room. I was out within five minutes. As soon as Èric left to deal with the policemen, I slipped in beside Adrien, too worried and nervous to eat anything.
How were we ever going to sleep peacefully inside this house, knowing someone might be inside here or still hanging around nearby?
After the police left, Èric locked up and returned upstairs about an hour later to let me know he hadn’t reached Remington, but he would keep trying. Also, Èric had informed Gilles about what happened and was scheduled for an early-morning flight to Provence the next day. I requested that Èric let me know if Remington called back. I placed my phone next to the pillow where I could hear any incoming call. This time Èric looked confident, albeit grim, as he went back downstairs to keep watch. He didn’t own a weapon, but according to Remington, he was an expert in hand-to-hand combat. With that thought in mind, I tried Remington’s number again, but the call went to voicemail. After several tries, exhaustion pulled me under.
I RAN a hand down my face, my thoughts wandering back to Provence. I hadn’t spoken to Selene or Èric in the past few hours. The mobile phone reception inside this hospital was complete shit.
I missed her and Adrien. I couldn’t wait to talk to them later when I left the hospital. I’d arrived earlier for an appointment with the doctor in charge of Caleb’s case to discuss his condition, options, and the probability of surgery, and because I wanted to spend some time with Caleb.
Unfortunately, so had Remington Newport, my father. Adele wasn’t around to act as a buffer as she had done the last few visits.
I flicked my wrist to check the time, and then turned to stare at the man sitting across from me. He was nothing to me but a father in biological terms only, a stranger. His face had acquired more wrinkles between the last time I saw his photo in a newspaper, almost one year ago at a charity ball in London, smiling for the cameras, and now. His black hair was filled with gray. The eyes that always sparkled with power and confidence were dulled in defeat whenever he regarded his son, lying on the bed between us. When he flicked a gaze in my direction, a slight glint of what I thought was hope would lighten them.
Currently, I was Caleb’s only hope and my father knew that. The doctors had tested Adele for compatibility. Unfortunately, her blood wasn’t a match with Caleb’s. This was one of the areas where my father’s power couldn’t cure his own son or control the inevitable. Yes, he could shop around for someone to donate a kidney, but time was of the essence. Caleb’s kidneys were shutting down fast, and he needed dialysis to aid them.
I should be smug because he couldn’t wield control and power in this instance, as was his style. Instead, I felt sorry for him. I wanted to hate him so much for destroying my childhood when I needed him most, but I couldn’t. I’d been surrounded by love while growing up. My grandmother, who passed away when I was twenty years old, my cousins, and my uncles, and my mother had made sure to love me twice as hard to make up for my bastard of a father. Surrounded by so much love cancelled the hate for my father, and what remained was indifference.
The beeping from the machine connected to Caleb to monitor his vitals filled the room. That and the whoosh sound coming from the bed whenever he exhaled. I hadn’t had a chance to speak to Caleb again. The only time I did was when I arrived two days ago, but he’d been too weak to talk, just lift a hand, and pat my head like he used to when we were in school. When I saw him, my heart broke. He didn’t resemble the healthy boy with a head full of dark-blond hair, the boy whose laughter was as infectious as his friendship. My brother.
“We need to talk about this, Son,” my father said, interrupting my thoughts. I felt awkward calling him Remington. I didn’t want to associate my name with the likes of him, which was difficult, given that I was named after him.
My jaw clenched and my fingers curled around the armchair as anger arose inside me. He was referring to the conversation we had when he found out I was his son’s only hope. Whenever he could sneak a chance to confront me, he always started the same conversation. I wasn’t in the mood to be bribed with money, promises of a place in his company, or on the board of directors, or whatever else he kept babbling about. I thought my father was a complete arsehole, but his announcement that he would pay me to donate a kidney to his son—my own flesh and blood—had been the absolute height of arrogance and callousness.
I stared at him coldly. I flicked a gaze to Caleb before turning to face him. “Can I talk to you outside?” I stood and strode from of the room, not bothering to check if he was following me. It was time to set the wanker straight once and for all. As soon as he stepped into the hall, I rounded on him. “Looks like you haven’t changed, Father. Everything is all about money for you. Well, listen very carefully because this is the last time I’m going to say this. Fuck you and your money. I’m doing this because that’s my brother in there. I’m not your son. I’ve never been your son and never will be. Get that through your head. As far as I’m concerned, you only exist in my distant memories.” Rage shot through me, and I realized that I hadn’t forgiven him. Not really. I had suppressed my emotions regarding him. My hands shook and my breathing was ragged as I fought for the control not to punch his arrogant arse. “Stay away from me if you know what’s good for you.”
Someone cleared his throat. “Mr. St. Germain?”
/> I took deep breaths, schooling my expression as best as I could and turned around. The doctor cleared his throat before his fingers started to fiddle with the brown file in his hands.
“I’m sorry for keeping you waiting. We could step into my office if you’re ready . . .” The doctor trailed off, his gaze moving over my shoulder to my father before returning to me.
I nodded and started to follow him, but halted when I heard the sound of feet shuffling on the laminated floor as if to follow us. I threw my father a don’t-you-dare-come-near-me look over my shoulder, freezing him on the spot, before I continued on my way to the doctor’s office. Caleb was Remington’s son, but I didn’t care at that moment. It was my kidney after all. Besides, I was certain if my father happened to stand in a ten-meter radius of where I was, he would end up taking up residence in this hospital.
The doctor was clever enough to pretend he hadn’t seen anything unusual in the hallway.
Wise man.
BY THE time I left the hospital, it was seven p.m. and Caleb was still sleeping. I had gotten a chance to chat with him for all of five minutes before exhaustion finally won the battle.
As soon as I stepped out of the hospital, I pulled up the collar of my coat to ward off the cool October weather. Then I turned on my phone, frowning at the missed calls all from Èric and Selene. The timestamp on them was a little over two hours ago. What could have happened? Different scenarios flashed through my head, each worse than the one before, causing blood to pound loud in my ears. I dialed Selene’s number first, but it rang several times before diverting to voicemail. Fear closed in on me as I called Èric’s number. He answered on the first ring and told me what had happened, confirming my worst fear. The notorious stalker had struck again while I was away, and this time, he or she seemed to be out for blood. Shit, why hadn’t I brought Adrien and Selene to London with me? What if something had really happened to them? There was no way I could have survived it. I climbed inside the waiting taxi and sank into the seat, feeling as though I was losing grip of everything I held dear in my life: Caleb, Adrien, Selene, the château.
