by Kait Gamble
Table of Contents
Legal Page
Title Page
Book Description
Dedication
Trademarks Acknowledgement
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Epilogue
New Excerpt
About the Author
Publisher Page
Weathering the Storm
ISBN # 978-1-78651-385-4
©Copyright Kait Gamble 2016
Cover Art by Posh Gosh ©Copyright February 2016
Edited by Faith Bicknell-Brown
Totally Bound Publishing
This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Totally Bound Publishing.
Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Totally Bound Publishing. Unauthorized or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.
The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.
Published in 2016 by Totally Bound Publishing, Newland House, The Point, Weaver Road, Lincoln, LN6 3QN
Totally Bound Publishing is a subsidiary of Totally Entwined Group Limited.
Warning:
This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has a heat rating of Totally Sizzling and a Sexometer of 3.
WEATHERING THE STORM
Kait Gamble
When the storm hits, sometimes the only thing you can do is hang on.
Maia Reynolds is a successful travel writer for one major reason—her entire life is focused on work. Only one man has ever managed to get past her barriers and he’s the reason why she’s closed herself off from everyone else—and she’s just thrown champagne in his face.
Heir to the Girard Group, Alexandre is used to women throwing themselves, not their drinks, at him. He’s intrigued by the beautiful and maddening Maia, but the tale she tells him about their supposed past can’t be true. Can it?
The head trauma he suffered years before has left a blank space in his memory that Maia seems to fill, but he knows she’s hiding something. Until they clear up the past, they won’t be able to build the future that’s beginning to form in his mind.
But will she ever trust him enough to truly open up again?
Dedication
For Roselle
Trademarks Acknowledgement
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:
Manolo: Manolo Blahnik
The Arabian Nights: Public Domain
Instagram: Instagram, LLC
F1 Grand Prix: Formula One Licensing B.V.
Jeep: FCA US LLC
Chapter One
When Maia Reynolds had arrived in Nice, she’d had a list of things she was going to do. Work? Yes. Do some sightseeing and shopping? Absolutely. But coming face to face with the man who abandoned her nearly a decade before and flinging a drink in his face? Definitely not on the itinerary.
She stared at Alexandre Giroux’s stunned, dripping face with great satisfaction, and strode out of the restaurant.
No, it hadn’t been on the agenda, but it had felt damn good.
She burst out of the building like a cork from a champagne bottle. Sadly, the fizzy, good feeling wasn’t to last.
The heavy door slammed and rapid-fire French shouted at her ended the euphoria in a heartbeat.
Maia’s determined steps remained unaltered as she hurled over her shoulder, “I don’t speak French, remember?”
“How the hell would I know that?” he growled. His long legs closed the distance between them easily as he reached out to snare her.
His hand closed around her arm and he spun her around so she was barely a breath away from his hard form.
Alexandre. So close she could feel the heat of him. Smell him. Sense the ire flaring from him in searing waves as he glared at her with blue-gray eyes as dark as the sea midstorm.
And still, clenched with rage, he was the most handsome man she’d ever seen.
Maia had forgotten how tall and physically dominating he was. How just being in his presence could knock the breath from her lungs. Even as angry as she was, the skin under his hand hummed with awareness. She couldn’t stop herself from gravitating toward him—her body still inexorably drawn to his.
Maia balked at the way her body responded to him. After all these years, after what he’d done, he still overwhelmed her senses.
His grip tightened on her arm as he glowered at her from under jet-black eyebrows. “Who are you?”
She glared at him. “Like you don’t know. Let me go.” Maia tried to shrug out of his grasp but couldn’t get loose of his iron-like grip.
Alex turned her toward him again. “Not until you tell me who you are and why you think I need to be publicly humiliated.”
Maia stared up into those incredible, penetrating eyes of his and fought away the memories, letting only the anger and hatred through. “Are you kidding me?” She tore her arm out of his grasp and continued her march.
He caught and gripped her hand, anchoring her to the spot. “No, I’m not.” His voice was quiet, deadly. It was enough to turn Maia around. They stared at each other for a long moment. “I have no idea who you are.”
“Alex?” Neither one of them had noticed that a beautiful dark-haired woman had followed them onto the sidewalk.
“Ҫa va, Angelique.” Alex waved her back into the restaurant. She reluctantly obeyed after a long, speculating look at Maia.
Maia shook her head. “You should get back to your date. You wouldn’t want her to think that you’ve abandoned her.”
He stared at her, eyes narrowed in suspicion. “I might not have a clue who you are, but I suggest you never let me see you again.”
“Not a problem.” Despite his words, he didn’t seem to be in any hurry to let her go. Maia had to claw at his hand to wrench hers from his grip.
Throwing his hand back at him, she stalked away, leaving what she imagined to be a very angry-looking man staring narrow-eyed at her departing form.
It wasn’t until she was nearly back at her hotel that she realized that she had left people, important people, at the restaurant. She cursed herself. They were probably wondering what had caused her to lash out. Hell, she was wondering what had just happened.
Trembling, she raked her shaking hand through her hair. Maia had never let her emotions get the better of her like that before. She prided herself on having perfect control over herself.
Less than five minutes in the same room as Alex and that was shot to hell.
As
if she needed further proof the man was toxic.
Maia took a deep breath as she approached the glamorous hotel that was to be her home this week and sighed.
It was over now.
Dumbfounded and furious, Alex watched as the enraged brunette stomped away while his pulse thundered in his ears. What the hell had just happened?
He had walked into the restaurant to enjoy a quiet dinner with his father. There was a writer visiting whom he wanted Alex to meet. He’d mentioned something about them writing an article on the reopening of their hotel. It had been important to his father, so he’d dropped everything and flown in.
One moment he’d spotted his father and was making his way to the table and the next, he’d been soaked by a tiny, spitting mad, brunette wildcat who seemed to think he knew why he’d deserved it.
She was stunning in her fury, whoever she was. The wrathful fire that flared in her dark eyes as she’d scowled at him wasn’t something he was used to seeing from women in his company. Nor were the pure hatred and bile. What was she playing at?
Whatever she was thinking, he wasn’t about to let her get away with humiliating him the way she had.
Alex’s eyes zeroed in on her as she wove determinedly through the crowd. Was she drunk? Insane? He swiped what was left of the champagne off his face and shirt then followed her. He didn’t care what her motive was. No one did what she had and walked away from him.
Alex single-mindedly tracked his prey, watching her wind her lithe body easily through the crowd with the dexterity of a dancer. She twisted this way and that, giving him a good idea of the body hidden under the simple black dress. Pert breasts, long, lean legs that led up to a deliciously curved bottom—what the hell was he thinking? His internal rebuke didn’t deter the throb of awareness his body had in reaction to watching hers.
There was something about her. The way she felt against him, the way her body fit into his, made him all but forget about Angelique. Everything other than the mystery woman had faded away. He hadn’t cared about anything else. But why? He didn’t know her. Despite her words, he had no inkling who she was. Yet he wanted to find out more about her. It wasn’t an impulse he had very often. Why now? Why her? She’d all but attacked him. The last thing he should feel for her was lust.
Alex shook his head. It wasn’t lust he was feeling. It was anger. He wanted retribution.
He stayed a good distance behind her until she reached a familiar sight.
With a sardonic grin on his face, he pulled out his phone as she walked through the entrance.
Oh, how he loved karma.
* * * *
Maia slapped her hand on the flawlessly polished counter, drawing the attention of everyone within earshot of the echoing impact. “What do you mean I can’t have my key?”
The wide-eyed man paled and waved helplessly at the phone he’d just put down. “I’m sorry, mademoiselle. I just received a call—”
“From who?”
“From me.” The calm voice behind her sent chills skittering up her spine.
Maia turned to face Alex with a sneer. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Getting some answers.” He hooked his hand around her elbow and dragged her along as he fired commands at the avidly watching staff.
At the way their eyes dropped and how they immediately went about their business, Maia’s stomach started to sink. Alex was someone here with a capital S. “What’s going on?”
From the way his jaw was clenched, she wasn’t about to get any answers any time soon.
He shoved her headlong into an office and slammed the door closed behind him.
Alexandre’s handsome face was twisted with anger. “What is wrong with you? You dare throw your drink at me without provocation? What makes you think you could do that without consequence? I want you out of this hotel!”
Where did he get off barking orders at her? Maia bristled at his tone, but kept herself from yelling right back at him. “Fine by me. Just give me my key and I will.”
He stood firm, studying her. “Is this something you usually do? Attack strangers, claiming they did something horrible to you? Goodness knows I’ve dealt with my fair share of gold-diggers and the like. But you’re something else. Is this some sort of angle? A new trick?”
Maia’s jaw dropped. He thought it was some sort of scheme to get at his money? “Are you insane?”
“Funny. I was going to ask you the same thing.”
“Monsieur Girard?” Several staff members appeared with her bags.
Girard? Even as she heard it, Maia scanned the room. First the staff then the walls, which were lined with art as well as photos. Alex featured in several of them. One in particular caught her eye. Alex stood with an older version of himself at a construction site. He was the son of the man she was having dinner with. The owner of this hotel and a half dozen others. That made him Alexandre Girard, not Giroux as he had told her years ago.
Disgusted with the revelation that he’d lied about his identity, she ignored him. “Are you going to stand there making up crazy things to blame me for all night or are you going to move so I can get out of this place?”
Alexandre slid aside, waving her past. “Good riddance.”
“Funny, I was thinking the same thing.” Maia smirked as she mimicked his phrasing.
Maia turned and faced him full on. For a long moment, she stared at him. Waited for him to recognize her. Acknowledge their past. Anything. But there was nothing. Not even a flicker.
And it opened up the hole in her chest Maia thought had healed up long ago.
Had she been so easy to forget when it had taken her years to get him out of her head?
Heart aching, she stepped up to Alexandre and stared at him straight in the eyes, searching for any glimmer hinting that all this was just an act. She couldn’t find anything other than anger and X-ray-like scrutiny as he tried to figure her out.
Maia’s heart sank. “You really have no idea who I am, do you?”
His scornful gaze raked over her. “I'm sure I would remember someone as maddening as you.”
Maia paid no attention to his tone. “Did you study abroad about eight years ago?”
He glowered. “Yes.”
That was something at least. But she wanted him to acknowledge the rest. He knew who she was, he had to. How could he not? So she pressed him. “Don’t you remember anything about it?”
His face softened infinitesimally, but Maia caught it before he masked it with a stone-like façade. “No.”
“What do you mean, no?” she snarled.
He straightened to his full height and looked imperiously down his nose at her. “About the same time, I was involved in a car accident and lost a portion of my memories. The time I was abroad has a large chunk of the memories gone.” He studied her face intently. “I’m told because I haven’t been able to recover them that it’s probably permanent.”
Could she believe him? She searched his eyes again. He stared straight back at her. There was no guile that she could see. Nothing hidden. Could anyone fake something like that?
All her anger exited her body with a heavy breath. The space left behind quickly filled with remorse.
Totally deflated, Maia took a step back. She had just publicly humiliated a man for something he had no recollection of doing. He couldn’t remember her or their time together…or anything else. “I apologize for everything. Forget everything I’ve said and done. I’ll leave and that will be that.” Maia quickly turned so that he couldn’t see the tears threatening to fall. She needed to get away from him.
His large hand closed around her shoulder as he turned her around, gently this time. “Who are you?” Her defiant glare and her silence caused his temper to flare once again. “It doesn’t matter. I want you out. I suggest you leave now.”
“Miss Reynolds isn’t going anywhere, Alex.”
“Father—”
Guillaume Girard stepped in between them, gently taking Maia’s wrist
. He caught what must have been a stricken expression on her face and smiled. “Relax, my dear. I won’t bite.”
“I’m so sorry—”
His father waved her words away. “No apologies needed, my dear.” He turned to address his son. “Miss Reynolds cannot leave the hotel because she is to write an in-depth article about its reopening.” He smiled at Maia.
Maia stared at him. Guillaume looked to have the exact opposite reaction to Alexandre. Apparently, a drink thrown at his son amused the older man.
“You can’t be serious, Father.”
“I am. It was arranged long before tonight. Needless to say, as head architect of the project, you will have to stay on as well, Alex.”
Alexandre’s jaw clenched but he didn’t say a word.
“I’m sure you will want to get some rest after all the excitement. Your editor said she would call you in the morning to settle the details.” He clapped his son on the back. “We will meet you for breakfast. Is nine a.m. good for you?”
Maia nodded mechanically.
The older man’s smile never waned. “See you then. Goodnight.”
Maia raked a hand through her hair. She felt as though she had just been caught in the eye of a hurricane. Somehow, she had managed to make a date with a man she hated.
Chapter Two
Maia couldn’t sleep. How could she? The revelation that Alex couldn’t remember her chased hundreds of other thoughts whirling through her mind. It changed her perspective on just about everything. She just wasn’t ready for that quite yet. Especially since she was stuck with Alex. He was sure to ask questions about why she’d done what she had. Yet another thing she wasn’t sure how she should handle at the moment.
Instead of wearing a hole in what was sure to be a very expensive carpet, she opted to head to the pool to burn off some energy. She needed some time to sort out her thoughts and feelings.
