The Price of Honor (17 page)

She turned to Megan. “Let's go. You're not pulling into your shell and keeping secrets from me.”

Hannah snapped up her belongings and strode briskly from the building. Megan tried to think of a way to keep from ruining what until now had been a fun day of them
sampling cakes, looking at flowers and listening to potential entertainment. She came up with nothing.

The heat hit them like a wall as soon as they stepped outside. Megan stalled by studying the dark clouds gathering on the horizon. “Would you look at that? We're in for a bad storm.”

“What did Xavier want?” Hannah asked as soon as the car doors closed, sealing them in privacy.

Megan sighed. She should tough this out on her own. Hannah had enough on her mind with the wedding. But she didn't have the strength. “He just offered to buy Belle.”

“The bastard. Does he want to take everything from you?”

“Apparently. But don't sweat it. I hung up on him. And I'm not selling Belle to him no matter how much he offers.”

Hannah made no attempt to put the car in motion. “That's the first time you've heard from him since the lawyer meeting a month ago?”

“Yes.” Four weeks of silence. No counteroffers, no withdrawal of the deal as her lawyer had predicted.

“Do you hate him yet?”

“I hate this side of him and what he's doing.” But she still missed him.

What if she sold both her horses, spent all her money and still lost the custody battle?

Don't think that way. Quitters never win.

“But you still love him?”

She nodded. “I love what we had. And I want that back. Doesn't that make me a first-class fool?”

Hannah reached across the car and grabbed Megan's hand. “No, Megs, it makes you a fool for love. Happens to the best of us. It certainly happened to me.”

“The difference is you found your happy ending. I don't see that happening here.”

Hannah moved her hand to Megan's baby bump. “Here's your happy ending. You're going to be a mom. The best damned mom on the planet. And we're not going to let him take that away from you. No matter what. And I am going to be the most amazing aunt ever.”

Megan's lips smiled, but her heart was still breaking. Would she ever get over that man?

 

Xavier entered the barn beside his stable manager.

“He's not the horse we knew, sir. He's missing a little pep in his step.”

“Missing a little pep in his step” described Xavier's condition exactly. He had been lethargic since his return from the States, but that was to be expected, given his late hours and heavier than usual workload and the pressure of the merger. And the marriage.

He stopped outside the stall holding Rocky Start—the same stall the horse had occupied before Megan had left France. The gelding whinnied in recognition.

Xavier opened the door and stepped inside. He stroked the horse's glossy neck. “Do you miss her, boy?”

I do,
he finally allowed himself to admit.

And he wanted her back. Not just because of the
bébé.
He missed her company. He missed the way she teased and taunted him in a way that no one else would dare. He missed the look in her eyes that said she believed he could conquer the world, and he missed holding her as she fell asleep. He missed quiet mornings when they cooked breakfast and ate together in her cottage. He missed watching her compete and the pride he had felt that she was his woman.

He missed the way she loved him.

The admission made him feel weak. Like less of a man.
He turned to his employee. “What do you mean she refused to sell Belle?”

“She refused to sell the mare to
you,
sir.”

“Did you meet her asking price?”

“I offered her more. She still refused.”

“I want that mare.”

“Do you mind if I ask why? Belle's a great horse, but she has some age on her and she's nearing the end of her career. And her price is high for a broodmare.”

Why did he want Megan's horses? A good question.

He wasn't going to ride them. And having anyone but Megan show Belle seemed like sacrilege. Megan and Belle had been a team since Belle's first saddle. The two of them in motion were like a fine ballet. But his burning desire to possess both of her horses was undeniable.

If her horses were here, she would come to his stable to see them. And then he would give them to her, contingent on her boarding them here. In his barn.

He wanted Megan's horses because he wanted her back. The realization shook him. Head reeling, he offered the gelding a treat from his pocket—one of the treats Megan had left behind in his tack room. He needed time to think. Time to figure out why it was so bloody important to have Megan on his turf.

“Sir?”

“Just get that mare. Buy her anonymously through an agent if you must. But get her.”

He stalked out of the barn. But his chaotic thoughts stampeded after him. He headed straight for the practice ring, vaguely noting the sun setting behind the oak trees. Dusk. Megan's favorite time of the day to ride. But the ring was empty. No equestrians cantered in and out of the shadows.

No Megan.

He wanted her back more than he wanted the Alexandre estate.

He wanted her back more than he wanted to be CEO of the largest privately owned perfumery in the world.

He wanted her back more than he wanted to prove that he was a better man, a smarter man than his father, one who would not jeopardize the roof over his head for infatuation.

He wanted Megan back because her leaving had left a vacant space in his heart that nothing had been able to fill.

He braced his arms against the rail and let the heavy weight of his thoughts settle over him. He wanted Megan back… Because he loved her.

Love.

Him.

Impossible.

Apparently not.

But to have Megan in his life, he would have to forfeit everything he had strived for over the past fifteen years. He would have to turn his back on his vow to regain the Alexandre estate, and he would have to repeat his father's mistake of jilting his bride-to-be.

As Megan had said, marrying Cecille for the material goods and status she could bring him was not the honorable thing to do. Releasing her from the bargain he had made with her father was.

Megan had the courage to sacrifice her horses and her career—everything she held dear—for their child. That was truly honorable. How could she respect him if he did not match her courage?

He hoped he was not too late to make amends.

But he had made promises. To Cecille. To her father. Promises he must break. He must speak to his lawyers and to Cecille and Monsieur Debussey. And then—and only then—could he go to Megan a free man.

Her man.

If she would have him.

 

Xavier stood in the grand foyer of the Alexandre mansion beside Monsieur Debussey and said goodbye to his dream of regaining ownership of the beautiful château.

But no matter how beautiful the house, it would never be a home without Megan and their child.

“Then we're agreed on terms?” he asked Debussey.

“
Oui.
I will sell you Parfums Debussey and in return, you will give Cecille the job as spokesperson for the new Debussey perfume.”

“I will hire the best modeling coach available to coach her in her new job, but I won't tolerate unprofessional behavior or carry dead weight. If Cecille fails to deliver, I will have to let her go.”

The older man inclined his head. “I understand. As you have said, I must teach her to survive after I am gone. Perhaps the best way to do so is to give her the freedom to succeed or fail on her own.”

“If she wants to be a model, she will have to learn to work for it. It is a competitive industry.”

“I hope you will not mind if an old man wants to come by the offices and visit occasionally.”

Before Megan, Xavier would have refused. He would not have wanted interference or anyone telling him how to run his business. But thanks to his bighearted equestrian, he now knew that success wasn't about the money. It was about surrounding yourself with the things and the people who mattered.

“You will always be welcome at Alexandre-Debussey.”

They shook on the deal. But Xavier's excitement did not come from becoming the CEO of the two largest privately owned perfumeries. The rush of adrenaline pumping
through his veins came from knowing he was hours away from having everything his heart desired.

If Megan would agree.

 

“Stop the car.” The words burst from Megan's mouth when she spotted a familiar shadow on her front porch.

Hannah hit the brakes, skidding tires a little in front of the cottage. “What is it?”

Megan's heart thundered in her chest and her ears like a herd of spooked horses. She lifted a shaky finger and pointed. “Xavier is here.”

“The bastard.”

Hannah threw the car into Park and reached for the door handle. Megan grabbed Hannah's arm before she could jump from the car and wage war on her behalf. “I've got this.”

“Megan, don't be silly. The jerk needs someone to tell him to go to hell, and after arguing with my now-fired wedding planner for an hour, I'm feeling up to the task.”

“Hannah, I love you for wanting to protect me. But I have to deal with Xavier myself. We might have to share our child for a lifetime. We have to learn to be civil.” Hannah's mulish expression didn't change. “Think on the bright side. Maybe he's come to tell me I win.”

There wasn't a snowball's chance in hell of that since Xavier never backed down, but Hannah didn't need to be stressing over this—especially since Megan had caught her cousin surreptitiously peeking at pregnancy test kits at the pharmacy earlier. But if Hannah had news she would share it when she was good and ready. Nobody rushed Hannah.

Hannah folded her arms. “I'll wait in the car.”

“No. Go home. Wyatt's waiting. Didn't you say you had a special dinner planned?”

Hannah bit her lip, obviously torn.

“Go, Hannah. I can handle Xavier. If he gives me any trouble, I have the baseball bat you kept hidden in the hall closet for backup.”

The bloodthirsty pseudothreat brought a hint of a smile. “Swing hard.”

“You know I never give less than my best effort.”

Gathering her courage, Megan climbed from the tiny two-seater and forced her feet up the walk. She couldn't even begin to identify the tangle of emotions cycloning through her. Only then did she notice the black car mostly concealed by the deep shade of the trees surrounding the cottage.

Xavier rose from the rocking chair and met her at the top of the stairs. He seemed tired and he'd lost weight he hadn't needed to lose. But he still looked good in his jeans and a silk T-shirt. Black on black. His pirate colors. And she needed to remember that, just like a swashbuckler, he was probably up to no good.

His gaze fastened on her baby bump with something akin to longing before meeting hers.

She stopped a good two yards away from him. Distance was her friend. “My lawyer says I'm not supposed to talk to you.”

“Are you going to take his advice?”

She had the perfect excuse to send Xavier on his way, but her curiosity—and a tiny flicker of hope, damn it—wouldn't let her. “No.”

But that didn't mean she'd let him in her house. “What do you want?”

“You refused to sell Belle.”

“To you or your agents.”

“What makes you think I sent an agent?”

“Xavier, no one offers that obscene amount of money for
a horse without having a veterinarian thoroughly examine the animal first.”

He nodded, probably the only admission of guilt she was going to get. “Why do you want her? Besides to irritate me.”

“Rocky misses her.”

Her breath caught. “I sold Rocky to a thirteen-year-old junior champion.”

“And she made a tidy profit by selling him to me.”

The sinking feeling returned to the pit of her stomach. When Xavier wanted something he got it. “Are you trying to take everything from me?”

“
Non.
The gelding is yours. On the condition that you do not sell him again.”

Her thoughts tumbled in confusion. “You bought my horse so you could give him back? I don't understand.”

“You were right. Money is not the most important thing.”

A part of her wanted to shout
Eureka!
But she didn't trust the contrite expression on his face—one she was absolutely certain he had never worn before. “Uh-huh.”

His gaze dropped once more to her belly then returned to hers. “Do you still feel our son or daughter moving?”

“Every day.”

“May I?”

She threw her hands up defensively and backed away a step. Her emotions were on edge. She couldn't afford to let him touch her right now. “Xavier, why are you here?”

“I came to tell you I have dropped the custody suit.”

Shock and elation spiked her pulse rate. But questions rained down just as quickly. “I haven't heard that from my attorney.”

He reached for his back pocket, withdrew a thick sheaf of folded papers and offered them to her. “It is all in here. I asked him to let me tell you.”

She took the document, but didn't attempt to read it. She couldn't have translated legalese at the moment if her life depended on it. He had her too rattled. “Why? You never give up on something that matters to you.”

“You matter to me.”

Her heart and lungs stalled. “What are you saying?”

“That our child will be very fortunate to have you for a mother. Your willingness to sacrifice everything that you hold dear—your horses, your career—is true honor, and it shows me that you will always put our son or daughter first. Our child will never lack for love or doubt that he or she is truly wanted.”