Mistress for Hire (16 page)

“I never thought you’d go over to the dark side, Nikkers.”

Nikki grasped the cell phone with a sweaty palm. “This is a man’s life you’re toying with. I used to be so proud of you, thinking how self-sacrificing you were, how noble. And now I think you’re only in it for the hunt—and the glory. I’m ashamed of you.”

Jessica gasped and Nikki immediately regretted her harsh words. Shame. What they had fought against so long together. What Mimi had schooled them to purge from their psyches. The shame of being neglected by their parents. The shame of poverty. What had bonded them for so, so long. She understood how Gérard’s own shame affected his actions, now, and wished she could explain it to her sister. But for now it was private.

“Jessica, I’m sorry.” But her sister had hung up.

A cough sounded behind her. Nikki whirled and scowled at the Scot, very tempted to take a swing at his too pretty face. Instead, she pulled out the contract Gérard had given her and tore it into tiny pieces before tossing it over the side of the balcony, knowing McGowan would think it was the list.

McGowan lunged for the tiny squares as they swirled in the hot currents from below. They danced away like snowflakes. He whipped toward her. “Why did you do that?”

“Because sometimes love is stronger than blood.” Nikki stepped back, her hands clenched.

“Is there a problem here?” Gérard put his hand possessively on the small of her back, his thumb caressing her bare skin.

“No. He was just leaving,” said Nikki, giving the reporter a pointed look.

Gérard’s fingers stilled. “I invited him, Nikki.”

Nikki spun around. “Why?”

“He’s going to help me reveal the truth of what happened, but I appreciate you defending me.”

McGowan scowled at them both. “What the hell is going on?”

Gérard pensively rubbed his jaw, staring down at Nikki. “I believe it’s love.” He gave her a wink and steered her to their table.

She sat mortified, smiling woodenly for the benefit of the diners across the table. Picking up her spoon, she dragged it through the creamy lobster bisque the waiter set before her, the slight whiff of sherry cloyingly sweet. Gérard took her hand under the table, but she pulled away, anger simmering inside her. How dare he make fun of her feelings.

The dinner dragged on until finally the Master of Ceremonies came to the podium and started the program. Several speakers extolled Gérard’s virtues and Nikki felt him wince next to her. When they called him to the podium, he stood and gave her a quick kiss, then searched her eyes, his gaze questioning. Another kiss and the crowd tittered.

Was it just for show?

His speech hit all the right notes—talking about his humble beginnings, his commitment to the charitable cause sponsored by tonight’s dinner, and all the people who had helped him rise to the top. Nikki was as enthralled as everyone else while he spoke. She couldn’t help smiling slightly when he mentioned her name as his inspiration. Oh, how she wished.

What he said next made her put down her water glass and lean forward.

“Many of you here tonight know of a project called Milk for Africa. What you don’t know is how terribly this project failed. And why I alone am to blame for its failure.”

He’s falling on his sword
. Nikki gripped her purse, the metal clasp digging into her palm as she searched the room for McGowan. He stood near the back, recording Gérard’s words. His gaze met hers and he smirked. She turned away. No matter what Gérard said, he would still want the investors’ list, but this let every one of them in the room know Gérard would protect them. As he protected and took care of everyone around him, herself included.

“And let me just say,” Gérard concluded, “without the support of my fiancée, Nikki Sommers, the road to healing this problem would be much longer, lonelier, and not nearly as rewarding. We learn from our mistakes and I can only hope you will learn from mine. Thank you again for this honor and I hope by this time next year, I can say I have truly earned it.”

The crowd sat stunned, then erupted into a standing ovation. The attendees swarmed Gérard as he stepped off the stage. Those at Nikki’s table, two of whom were investors, peppered her with questions about the Milk for Africa project. Neither of them admitted their involvement, nor offered their support.

“Come dance with me.” Gérard led her out onto the dance floor as the throng parted for them.

They danced in silence, her body stiff. It was all a sham. She was glad she was leaving, because she couldn’t bear knowing her feelings were a joke to him. He twirled her to the music and brought her close again. And closer still. His lips brushed her ear.

“You could love a flawed man?”

Her head snapped up, clipping Gérard’s jaw. He leaned back, shaking his head, his eyes glittering with mischief under the light of several chandeliers.

Her heart pounded as she met his gaze. She finally spoke, trusting her instincts just as she had the first time she’d met him. “It depends on the flaws. Perhaps if he were stubborn to the point of being pig-headed. If he had a skewed sense of responsibility. And if he were generous to a fault.” She paused as he skillfully glided them out the open door and stopped on the balcony. The cold air chilled her flushed face. “I’d think about it.”

“What can I do to influence your decision?” His fingers caressed her back as a slight smile played on his lips.

“What decision is that?” She played dumb, wanting to hear the words.

He molded his body to hers, kissing her until the sparks from the bonfire resembled fireworks. They parted and he took her hands in his.

“To love me. To marry me. To make me the happiest
Beast
of all. I couldn’t believe you cared for me until I overhead you.” His eyes suspiciously bright, he smiled. “Ever since you perched your beautiful bottom on my desk, I’ve wanted you.” He pulled her close again. “I need you, Nikki.”

She laughed, snuggling up against him. “The happiest Beast? Truly?”

Gérard stepped back to look into her eyes, his hands on her waist. “Truly. For real this time. Will you marry me, Nikki?”

“I will. I do. Yes.”

He picked her up, laughing as she squealed.

“
Je t’aime
,” he whispered. “I love you, Nikki.” He sealed his words with a kiss.

“I love you, too, Gérard.” Her words swirled around them like smoke as they danced into the dark.

Epilogue

Nikki bounced into the kitchen, displaying the open laptop like a trophy. “She’s done it again!” She stopped short at the sight of Gérard plating braised chicken. “You’re cooking again?”

He grinned at her. “I like feeding you.”

Nikki snorted. “You just want to be prepared when you interview the new chef.”

“That, too.” The big man sighed. “I shouldn’t have let Jean-Luc leave.”

“Why? He’s done a wonderful job taking over Emmaline’s bakery.” She set the computer on the counter and hugged him. “Jean-Luc’s fantastic in the new television show you created for him.”

He raised his eyebrow. “Don’t tell him that.”

She laughed. “Of course not.”

He sat down and pulled her onto his lap. “What’s Jessica done, now?”

Punching his arm in affection, she pointed. “Singing your praises, again. Look. ‘If not for Gérard Beauvais, the neediest regions would not be reached. His continuing tireless work and commitment, etc. etc.’”

Gérard ran his hand over her protruding tummy. “Tireless, hmm. I suppose I have been.”

“Oh, you.” She snuggled into his neck. “Just wait until this baby arrives. We’ll be exhausted.”

“Exhausted, but happy.” He then proceeded to show her how happy he could make her. Which was very happy indeed.