At the Chateau for Christmas. Rebecca Winters

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СКАЧАТЬ studied the photos for a long time. Her grandmother had still been beautiful at eighty. Pain caused her throat to constrict.

      “I brought her body on the Valfort corporate jet. Maurice called the Sunset Mortuary here in San Francisco to meet the plane. Here’s their business card.” She took it from him, cognizant of their fingers touching. Something was wrong with her to be this aware of him when she was in so much turmoil.

      “They’re awaiting your family’s instructions. When your mother broke all ties with Irene, she told her that neither she nor my grandfather would ever be welcome at her home in this life.”

      Searing pain shot through Laura. Her mother had said those exact words to Laura’s grandmother? Laura didn’t believe it. This man was biased and had colored the situation with his own judgmental version of the scandal. Still, it was so horrifying, the tragedy of it all overwhelmed her.

      “My grandfather is still honoring her wishes, thus the reason I’m here in his place.”

      That was another lie. His grandfather was a coward or he would have come himself!

      “Maurice realizes your grandmother should be buried next to her first husband, Richard, and surrounded by her family.”

      So in death Richard was finally remembered? The heat of anger and pain washed over her. “How thoughtful of him.” She hadn’t been able to hide the sarcasm.

      Calmly he said, “If you have questions and need to talk to me, I’ll be staying at the airport Holden Hotel. You can reach me there until tomorrow morning, when I’ll be flying back to Nice at seven a.m.

      “One more thing. Your grandmother had a will drawn up several years ago and left something specific in it for you. Unfortunately it means you will have to fly to Nice and meet with the attorney within the next seven days. After that, he’ll be out of the country for two months. It was her hope that your mother’s feelings wouldn’t prevent you from claiming it. She never gave up hope of a reconciliation.”

      At the revelation, Laura couldn’t stifle a quiet sob.

      “Should you decide to come, phone me and I’ll arrange for the Valfort jet to return to San Francisco and fly you to Nice. My grandfather insists on doing this for you to honor Irene’s final wishes. I’ll meet you at the Nice airport and drive you directly to the attorney’s office. This is my business card.” He handed it to her. “You can reach me at Valfort Technologies any time.”

      He didn’t work for the fabulously wealthy Valfort family? They’d been hoteliers since the early 1900s. That much she did know about them. Why on earth would he stay in a Holden hotel after what his grandfather had done to their family? Or did he have a sick desire to see how the Holdens were doing business without the founder?

      “Do you have any questions, Ms. Tate?”

      At this point her emotions were in chaos. “Only two right now.” She fought to keep the tremor out of her voice, but to her alarm, she had difficulty keeping her eyes off him. “Did you know her well?”

      “Very” came the grating sound of his voice.

      Laura sensed a wealth of meaning and possible rebuke behind that one word, stabbing her until she could feel herself bleeding out. But this man knew nothing about the private history of the Holden family and the horrendous gulf caused by his grandfather. She bristled at his unspoken censure of her.

      Narrowing her eyes on him she said, “Am I to assume she was happy with your grandfather?”

      “With him, absolutely.”

      What exactly was that supposed to mean? “That’s your interpretation, of course.”

      She got no response from him. His sangfroid crept under her skin. So did his lack of explanation that spoke volumes about the underlying issues of a marriage that had brought so much grief to her mother and to Laura personally.

      Laura averted her eyes, needing to exit the limo and be strictly alone while she absorbed the gut-wrenching news about her grandmother’s death.

      All these years without contact. Laura hadn’t seen Irene since she was six. Year after year she’d secretly yearned to visit her and get to know her. But loyalty to her mother, Jessica, had prevented her from getting in touch with her. Now the lovely older woman in the photos was gone... Death was irrevocable.

      Another small sob escaped her throat. She traced her grandmother’s features with her index finger. These few pictures were all Laura would ever have of the woman who’d brought her mother into the world and raised her. The pain of loss over an opportunity never seized was excruciating. How empty and pointless that loyalty seemed now.

      Without lashing out at her, Laura would have to search her soul to find the right words to tell her unforgiving mother that Irene was dead. She lifted her head, looking at Nicholas through dull eyes. Tears trickled down her throat, yet it was hard to swallow.

      “It’s evident this was a task you would have done anything to avoid. Your loyalty to your grandfather deserves a medal. I suppose the least I can do is thank you for tearing yourself away from business to come all this way with her body.”

      “You’re welcome.”

      His cool reply had her floundering. Clearly this man found his errand repugnant. But as much as she knew anything, she realized he was a true gentleman, a quality she valued highly in a man. Otherwise he would have flung all this in her face with the greatest of pleasure. His restraint taught her a lot about his character, adding to the potent charisma no man of her acquaintance possessed.

      He got out of the back to help her. As her body brushed against his by accident, an unlooked-for awareness of his male presence leaped to life, threatening her in ways she’d never experienced before. The knowledge that he was married only made her reaction to him that much more shocking. She clutched the photos and cards before running toward the building without looking back.

      * * *

      “Telephone, Nic. Line two.”

      Nic had been making corrections to a drawing on the computer. “Merci, Robert.”

      After three years, his stomach no longer clenched every time a call came through for him, whether it was on his cell or the landline at work. For the first year following his wife’s disappearance, he’d imagined every call would be from Lt. Thibault, the investigating detective on the other end, phoning to give him news of Dorine.

      “It’s five. I’m heading home and will see you after Christmas.”

      That’s right. It was December 23. Nic’s assistant, Robert, was going home to a wife and two children. Nic wouldn’t be going home to anyone. Except to spend a little time with his family and siblings, he would work through this holiday.

      Three years ago he and Dorine had spent Christmas with her family in Grenoble. They’d only been married five months before her disappearance in January. Their marriage had been of too short a duration to put down roots with children.

      Robert paused at the door. “Thanks for the gifts. Pierre and Nicole will love them.”

      He lifted his head. “My pleasure.”

      “Nic—everyone at the research СКАЧАТЬ