by Jianne Carlo
Terry shuffled his feet, agitation rising with each clandestine dart Lockheed shot him.
“Something wrong, James?” He went on the attack.
“My niece is a very innocent young woman, O’Connor, and unless you plan to marry her, I’d suggest you keep a wide distance.”
“Where the hell did that come from?”
“She may have come upstairs with your brother, but since he’s gay, I don’t expect he was the one who kissed her senseless.”
Su-Lin’s pouty, swollen lips caught Terry’s attention, and he clamped his mouth together to stifle his automatic response. But mindful of her request to keep their relationship secret, he opted for a different tack, and repressed aggression graveled his voice.
“And why would you think Thomas is gay?”
That discombobulated the man. James Lockheed’s jowls reddened, and a line of perspiration paralleled his receding hairline.
Alerted by the mention of his name, Thomas edged closer to the two men, swapping an anxious glance with his brother.
During the fracas, Emma and Su-Lin had boarded, and Harrison had one foot on deck, the other in midair.
“Yes, James, why would you think that?” Thomas’s soft question always preceded a battering-ram offensive, Terry remembered.
“We’ll settle this later, James, Thomas.” Terry bent to the man’s florid face and clamped one hand around his fleshy arm. “If you so much as repeat what you just said, even if only to yourself, I guarantee you’ll be in hospital for a few months. Get on board.”
Arms akimbo, the twins stared at James’s hunched back when he turned to face the water taxi.
“Going to be a pleasant cruise, boyo,” Terry growled. “Now, why did he jump to that conclusion? Are you sure Father doesn’t know?”
The last rays of the sun faded, and reflected lights from the Glory bobbed and swayed with the lapping waves. Su-Lin had piled her hair on top of her head in some sort of sexy, messy tumble. A current of air flashed across the bay, and the wind pulled a few strands loose.
Thomas shrugged. “Let’s face it, Terry, he’d be blind, deaf, and dumb not to know. I gave up caring whether he knew I was gay years ago. I’m discreet. I don’t flaunt it. A few of my colleagues suspect. But I take out the occasional woman and hit the social scene just enough so people aren’t certain.”
“Do you think James will mention anything to Father?”
Both shoulders lifted, and Thomas replied, “At this point, I don’t really care. Let’s get on board. I have a feeling this is going to be a long, tedious evening.”
“Agreed.”
When their taxi docked at one of Nice’s piers, Harrison helped Su-Lin step foot on the wooden jetty. James and Emma surrounded Su-Lin, her aunt crooking elbows with her niece. Terry, Harrison, and Thomas strolled behind the three relatives. Terry listened to Emma prattling about Hong Kong, about how much Su-Lin would love it there. The woman didn’t stop for a breath once, and he marveled at her lung capacity.
Suresh had made reservations at a restaurant near the tram stop.
An intimate, twenty-seat haven off one of Nice’s busy streets with open, burnished oak stable doors, Terry had first introduced the Internet wunderkind to the establishment a few weeks earlier. Suresh termed it “The Bottle Restaurant” because of its wall-to-wall display of miniature liquor bottles dating back over a hundred and fifty years.
Terry and Thomas had to duck to enter the bistro.
Geoff Stanford, all aristocratic and haughty, sat at a circular table with a burgundy leather-bound wine list in front of him. He and the proprietress discussed his selection, Geoff in flawless, Parisian-accented French, the matron in a more provincial tone.
Seated to Geoff’s right, Suresh Singh stood, threw his napkin on the table, and halted all movement when he caught sight of Thomas.
Terry’s mouth curved, and he and Thom swapped grins at Suresh’s almost-comical surprise, mouth open, one hand doing a questioning wave, while his eyes did a rapid-fire examination of each twin.
“I didn’t know you had a brother, far less an identical twin,” he said, walking forward and clapping Terry on the shoulder.
“Yeah, I’m full of surprises. Thomas, this is Suresh Singh, Internet billionaire, and a decided pain in the backside.”
“Nice to meet you.”
The men shook hands.
“What’s the occasion?” Terry inclined his head to Geoff, now joined by James Lockheed.
“I’m launching a charitable organization to eliminate illiteracy. It’s pioneered around under eleven inner-city soccer leagues.”
“Interesting concept.”
Su-Lin and Emma had stopped to look at jewelry in a window case. Terry knew the moment she entered the restaurant.
Suresh’s head did an exorcist whip, and his jaw dropped open. “Crimey, tell me she’s not your wife, Thomas.”
He uncurled one bent knee and strode forward, his gaze pasted on Su-Lin.
Terry clamped his hand on Suresh’s shoulder, effectively halting his momentum.
“She’s mine,” he growled.
“You got married?” Charcoal eyebrows separated and lifted. “You?”
“We’re not married, but she belongs to me.”
“Uh-uh, don’t pull that Rolan crap on me. I told him and I’ll tell you, unless there’s a wedding band, no one’s off limits. Unhand me, man.” Suresh shook Terry’s hand off and ate up the distance to Su-Lin.
“She’s in love with you, you know,” Thomas said, his voice a bare murmur.
Sizzling sounds preceded the scent of searing meat.
Thomas sniffed. “Lamb, if I’m not mistaken. Su-Lin’s good for you, Ter.”
“She’s in lust. The woman has had no life, no childhood. She’s stayed on the sidelines all her life. With her looks, it’s amazing she went through adolescence without being groped or raped. Do you know she’d never even been kissed until a few days ago?” He couldn’t take his eyes off Su-Lin. She wore a soft green sundress with spaghetti straps and a curved neckline, which revealed cleavage that had his mouth watering the minute he caught sight of her.
She needed a pendant to match the emerald earrings, he decided. And a ring. He choked back the thought, but it formed anyway, a big-ass emerald ring, and a thick wedding band, a symbol no man could mistake. Maybe one of those collar necklaces, one with his initials engraved all over it; a smile captured his mouth as he pictured it.
“Ter, have you heard a word I’ve said?” Thomas shook his arm.
“Sorry, boyo. What?”
“Su-Lin’s cocked onto Suresh’s idea. She wants to buy a gym and teach gymnastics to children who normally wouldn’t have the opportunity to learn. Children in foster homes.”
“When did this come up?” The notion had his sixth sense pinging away, but he couldn’t pinpoint what disturbed him about the idea.
“When Emma mentioned the masked ball, she explained what Suresh wanted to do.”
“She spoke about her idea in front of her relatives?” He rolled his shoulders, but the uneasy feeling persisted.
“I’m not sure if she’s told them. When we were waiting for you in the entertainment area, she told me about her plans. She’s so excited. You should have seen her. I swear if she hadn’t been wearing a dress, she would have done a cartwheel.”
“Thom, I’ve been trying to find a way to tell you this for a while. I saw Carol-Ann today, near the train station.”
“Bloody hell,” Thomas muttered as he stumbled backward. “She would only be here if she’s up to something.”
“Nothing makes sense.” Terry shook his head. “Why is she here? Why is Father here? He’s ignoring you as much as he’s ignoring me, and you’ve been the good twin, the heir, and all that.”
“He wants me to sire another Gore. Get married, settle down.”
“Are you going to? For the sake of the title?”
“The last thing I want is to follow in his footsteps. I have no desire
to have a child. The title will go to your first son, if you don’t inherit it sooner.”
“You are not going to die on the operating table, Thomas, not if I have anything to say about it.”
“We have to face reality. And talk about the consequences.”
“Do you think I don’t fricking know that? But not here, not now, and there’s no sodding way you’re getting off the hook so easily. You’re the earl, not me.”
“We’ll table the issue. Everyone’s sitting down, and a second ago, you lost your chance to sit next to Su-Lin.”
Terry mugged a scowl Suresh’s way, and the young billionaire gave him a victory salute as he scooted Su-Lin’s chair closer to the round table.
Thomas took the empty seat next to Emma Lockheed, while Terry schlepped into the chair next to Harry.
“Suresh has his eyes on our woman.”
“No ‘our’ about it. You stole one kiss, and that’s all you’re ever going to get.”
Geoff, on his left, asked, “Ever? Sounding pretty long-term there, chappie. This one’s going to last longer than a week?”
“It’s a three-week charter,” Terry hedged. “You know the relatives?”
“I’d never heard of James Lockheed until a few weeks ago, myself. He Skyped me about chartering the Glory. Said a friend had recommended the yacht.”
“He never mentioned anything about speaking with you. I engineered a meeting with him in Antibes after I met Su-Lin and found out they controlled her schedule.” Terry thumbed his jaw and stared at James Lockheed. “I thought I manipulated the man into the charter.”
“Did you now? I arranged the Glory charter for Thomas the minute he made the request. I let Lockheed know the Glory wasn’t available that same day. Something doesn’t add up.” Geoff drummed his fingers on the table. “Could this be some sort of setup?”
“To what purpose?”
“Su-Lin. The usual. Marriage?”
Terry’s stomach caved as if he’d been sucker punched. His mouth soured.
“Doesn’t make sense.” He forced out the words. “They’re rich. Don’t need the money.”
“One easy way to clear this up, Terry. Let’s ask Lockheed why he didn’t mention his phone call to me. Wait a minute, when I canceled the charter, I spoke with the wife, not Lockheed. It could be a simple case of miscommunication. How do you want to proceed?”
“Not worth pursuing the matter at this point, Geoff, not with Lockheed being hostile about my relationship with Su-Lin. Sleeping dogs and all that.”
The matronly proprietress strolled to their table, a bottle of wine clutched to her chest, two crystal goblets dangling upside down from her fingers. She deposited the glasses on the linen-covered table, nudging them into correct positions, and brandished the label on the bottle in front of Geoff.
Terry waited until the woman finished pouring wine for the whole table, filling their balloon glasses a third of the way. Thomas refused the alcohol, holding a palm over his glass.
“Carol-Ann’s in Nice, Geoff. I saw her this morning.” Terry took a fortifying glug of the Bordeaux vintage.
“She found you?” Geoff’s normal reticent expression changed, and his mouth curled into a sneer. “She’s the reason I flew in. Couldn’t find her in Singapore, and I had business here and wanted to warn you in person. That’s all you need added to this ticking situation, Carol-Ann.”
Harrison’s head whipped around. “What’d you say? Carol-Ann? Big hair, boobs out to here, long cheerleader legs?”
“Yes,” Geoff answered.
“You know her?” Harry arched a brown eyebrow.
“She’s been my stepmother for the last dozen years,” Terry said, and he knew the minute he saw Harrison’s face that Murphy’s Law had slammed them all. Things were about to get roller-coaster worse.
Harry’s Texan sun-bronzed complexion greened right before Terry’s eyes and his bean-hardened cowboy stomach seemed ready to regurgitate its contents. He shoved out from the table and took two lunging strides through the only door in the back of the restaurant.
Metal clanged onto the stone floor in a blistering inferno. A woman shrieked. A man shouted in a furious combination of Franglish. Harrison stumbled out the doorway he’d careened into, looking like doused rawhide.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
“Harry screwed your stepmother?”
“I should have known when Thomas said she had the hots for some cowboy. What a fricking mess.”
Chapter Nine
Something had changed.
Su-Lin stared at the closed connecting door to Terrence’s cabin. The knotting tendons in her neck burned and stabbed like daggers as she turned her head away.
Aunt Emma and Uncle James had collared her the whole evening. Each time she’d asked Suresh a question, either one or the other deflected his attention. Even more frustrating, she suspected they knew about her and Terry. They never let the two of them alone.
Geoff and Suresh had shown her the restaurant’s unique collection of miniature liquor bottles dating back to the seventeenth century. Halfway through the evening, when it had become apparent her relatives would do anything to keep Terry and her apart, she’d used the lit glass showcases as an excuse to get up and move about. Before Terry could join Su-Lin, Aunt Emma did a buddy-jump suit-up, never moving a half an inch from her side.
Two hours later, everything had deteriorated.
Terrence, Geoff, and Harrison murmured terse, sharp bites in fits and starts and ignored everyone else seated at the intimate table. Not once did Terrence glance in her direction. For three isolated hours, she ate and drank the finest vintage, the most selective fish and vegetables, and her tongue tasted sawdust and vinegar.
Su-Lin ordered a goat cheese salad appetizer. Aunt Emma changed it to scallops wrapped in bacon, remarking to everyone that her niece preferred seafood. True, but Su-Lin never touched meat. So she pushed the food around with her fork and chewed on the two olives, which served as a garnish.
For the main course, she chose a white-wine-poached whole sole. Uncle James said that Mediterranean sole had high mercury levels and ordered macadamia-crusted wild Atlantic salmon instead. Allergic to macadamias since she entered adolescence, Su-Lin ate the medley of vegetables that came with the fish. Uncle James couldn’t be expected to know macadamias made her vomit. The last time she’d had them, her coach had to take her to the hospital.
Her relatives had been nothing but kind since discovering her existence, and she knew she should be grateful for their lavish spoiling and spending. Yet every correction, every condescending comment, niggled at her self-confidence and spiked her slow-boil temper a notch.
They crowded her on the water taxi ride back to the Glory.
Aunt Emma gabbed nonstop. Su-Lin tuned out, replaying the images of Terrence’s massive, sinewy thighs, but even those images didn’t alleviate her unease.
Breeze created by the boat’s momentum blew Su-Lin’s hair back from her face. Varied aromas mingled on the wind, frying fish, unfiltered French cigarettes, and fumes from the scooters buzzing in the distance. Behind them, the buildings of Nice twinkled. Headlights put-putted around the harbor front, edging forward in starts and jerks, like individual colored balls in a game of marbles.
She tried to catch Terry’s gaze, but he continued his murmured conversation with Geoff and Harrison. She studied Terrence’s lips as he spoke, but every time he chomped off a phrase to either man, he averted his head.
The other two men appeared ragged for wear. Time and time again, Harry dug both hands through his hair. Between the stiff, tacky sea breeze and his furious repeated gesture, he looked caveman wild, caveman angry.
Geoff, the calmest of the three, stood in the middle, one hand on either man’s shoulder, and at one point, he shook both men, eyebrows slashed, lips shooting out words. When they reached the yacht, all three hulking men vanished before Su-Lin could even make it onto the deck.
Aunt Emma and Uncle James
insisted on accompanying her to the cabin and were adamant about having a drink on her balcony. Her uncle returned to the entertainment area and came back carrying three drinks: two glasses of red wine, and a short glass of scotch on ice. He smoked a fat, torpedo-shaped cigar while her aunt prattled on and checked Su-Lin’s wardrobe, chubby hands threading through the hanging clothes.
Su-Lin used both thumbs to knead the throbbing pressure points at her temples. The red wine tasted a little vinegary. Time drew out, and only after she’d finished her wine did her relatives leave. Every limb grew ten-pound weights, even her eyelids, but the closed connecting door to Terry’s cabin proved the devil’s lure.
Lethargic feet stumbled to the head. Sluggish hands worked at cleansing her face and brushing her teeth. Too battered to face Terrence nude, she donned a long T-shirt and shuffled to the door. Holding her breath, she tried the handle and came close to crying when it turned.
He still wanted her.
Remembering her aunt searching her belongings, Su-Lin retrieved her treasures from the bedside table drawer. His empty room yawned at her, and she slipped Terry’s presents onto a mahogany dresser. All at once exhausted, she rubbed her eyes and staggered to the bed. The satin sheets cooled her fevered, damp flesh, and she wondered about that for a smidgen before succumbing to a deep, dreamless sleep.
Morning sunlight warmed her cheeks, and one eyelid worked its way open.
Naked breasts met her gaze along with Terrence’s strong tanned arms cocooning her waist. His even puffs feathered her nape, and she sighed, contentment soothing a dull pounding behind her eyes. Holding still, wanting to prolong the poignancy of waking up with him, she studied his large hands, the thick fingers, the callused pads, which grazed sweet sensations.
Her thoughts swung back to last night’s dinner. A series of scattered shots of the evening flashed through her mind, and her brain settled around the three men, Geoff, Harrison, and Terrence.
Something had changed.
