French Resolution (Dances With Gazillionaires Book 2) Read online

  “Can we go through the kitchen entrance first? Or do you think she’s too busy right now?”

  “Never too busy for you.” Edward appeared uncomfortable. “Still it might look better if you don’t enter through the service entrance.”

  “Is anyone else here yet? I thought this thing didn’t start until seven-thirty.”

  “Mr. Christoff is here. And Camille. The decorators are fussing around, and there are two tall French ladies.”

  “Good. I’ll go in the back door.” Helen smiled.

  Bettina was almost in tears when she saw Helen. “You’re so grown up! And that dress is gorgeous.”

  “Thanks, Bettina. Hey, I like your new uniform. Very sharp. Did the new company buy it just for this event?”

  “Yes. Those two little designer guys were decorating everything they came across. Lucky there’s no guard dog or they would’ve spray painted it silver to match the buffet decor.”

  “Or bought them little guard uniforms.” Helen giggled.

  “Well you’d better get out there and save Mr. Christoff from those French hyenas. He has been wearing a pained expression on his face since they arrived this afternoon.” Bettina nudged her out the door. “Last I saw, he was hiding in your father’s study.”

  “Thanks. I’ll see you later.”

  *

  Helen tapped on the study door. An irate, “Oui,” was barked within.

  She loosened her iron grip on her clutch purse and tried for a casual air as she entered the study. “Hello, Antoine.”

  Antoine looked amazing in his black tuxedo. It fit him perfectly, highlighting his classic looks without appearing ostentatious. She swallowed, trying to moisten her parched throat.

  “Helen. I did not hear you come in the front door.” His eyes swept down her body and then up again to meet her eyes. She flushed under the close scrutiny.

  “I went through the kitchen to see Bettina first,” she admitted. “So, what do you think?” She did a little twirl to show off the dress.

  “Hmm.” Antoine advanced toward her. “This shawl does not work.” He removed it.

  “The saleslady said I needed something shiny. I thought it would do.” Her confidence disintegrated.

  Antoine reached into the drawer behind him. “Let us try this instead,” he said, bringing out a beautiful silver necklace with clear stones and fastening it around her neck. “And the earrings.” He went to hand them to her.

  “I don’t have pierced ears.”

  “I know. It was a lot of effort for the jeweler to change these ones over, so do not pierce your ears any time soon.” He propelled her to the en suite bathroom to admire the effect.

  She gasped as the stones glittered in the mirror. “They’re gorgeous!” She touched the necklace. “What if it falls off and I lose it? I’m not used to wearing jewelry. These aren’t real diamonds, are they?”

  “Oui, set in white gold. You will not lose it. The clasp is very good.” He bent down to nuzzle her neck then gazed in the mirror at her. “Ah, ma petite. You look like a beautiful princess. I feel like the beast, where all I crave is to rip your clothes off and possess you right here on the floor.”

  “Well, I don’t want you to rip my clothes, but…” Helen turned and gazed up into his eyes. She clutched his lapels and drew his mouth down to hers. “What time do we have to be out there?” she asked with a wicked grin.

  “Not right away.” Antoine appeared torn.

  Helen closed and locked the bathroom door behind them.

  The click of the lock galvanized him into action. He pulled Helen into his arms and descended upon her lips. “Mon Dieu, I need you,” he murmured, lifting her dress up her legs, striving for bare skin.

  Helen was surprised by the urgency driving her, as she caressed him through the rich texture of his trousers. She had just unzipped him when, in a single motion, he lifted her onto the vanity and peeled down her undergarments. His fingers reached inside her to open, stroke, and further ignite her. She slid his briefs down. Antoine put on a condom, wrapped her legs around his waist, and entered her.

  Helen shifted to accommodate him. She tried not to dig her nails into his back as she urged him in, further and faster. She was losing control. Every nerve in her core exploded in ecstasy. She nipped at his neck to keep from crying out loud. Antoine paused while her body convulsed around his. Then he began thrusting into her again, building in strength and promise.

  She was surprised when the tension built even more the second time. She was consumed in the sensation, begging him, “Yes, please, now!” She felt him release and glanced up to see his face lost in passion. Their bodies moved of their own accord until they clung together in desperation. Helen struggled to catch her breath. Then he was hugging her and kissing the top of her head.

  “Mon dieu, ma petite. You are too exciting for an old man like me.” His voice now purred in her ear. “I hope we have not undone the perfection you were when you came in here,” he added with a rueful smile. He withdrew from her and helped her down from the edge of the sink. Helen giggled at the sight of him pulling up his pants and underwear from around his ankles, when she noticed that she looked equally disheveled and ridiculous.

  “You clean and repair yourself first. Then we will attempt to appear respectable for the evening.” He ran his palm down the side of her face. “You are so beautiful.” Antoine kissed her again and went back into the study.

  Helen washed as best she could, and surveyed the damage to her clothes, hair and makeup. The dress was still in great shape. Thank heavens for newer, non-wrinkling fabrics. A few loose pins in her hair were reaffixed. And her makeup wasn’t too bad. A little mascara to clean up, reapply the lipstick and she was fine. Well aside from the glowing face, the wild, just-had-great-sex eyes, and flushed, swollen lips. Helen walked out to the study.

  “Your turn.” She smiled. Antoine caressed her bottom on his way past to the washroom. She sat on the leather sofa to wait. She didn’t know anymore how much of her actions were her plan for revenge against Laurenne, and how much was just her insatiable need for him. Then again, if it all was going in the same direction, who needed to know motivation? The only thing she knew for certain was how good she felt in Antoine’s embrace. She was relaxing back into the couch when she heard a light rap on the door.

  “Antoine?” a female voice called from the other side.

  Helen went to the door and opened it. “Antoine is just freshening up in the washroom. He’ll be a moment.”

  “Oh, he won’t mind me joining him.” Laurenne winked at her and sailed over toward the washroom. Just as she got there, Antoine emerged. He looked startled to see her. The two of them erupted into French with Helen trying to catch any words to figure out what was going on. Antoine seemed angry but Laurenne was calm and still smiling. Helen wished Laurenne seemed more rattled.

  “We should be getting out there before our guests arrive.” Antoine turned to her and put his arm around her waist. “Helen?”

  He opened the door and ushered her out. Laurenne muttered a few more things behind them. He didn’t respond. They joined Camille in the front living room.

  “How did you get in?” Despite her sneer, Camille was gorgeous, attired in a long, semi-translucent, black dress with a little black cap with veil, perched in her blonde hair. Her abundant cleavage was, as usual, fighting to be free. She didn’t appear to be planning on being a widow for long. She was also already drunk.

  “Good evening Camille. You look beautiful, as always.” Helen smiled.

  “Thank you,” Camille answered. Then she noticed Antoine and started speaking French.

  “English, Camille,” he reminded her.

  “Oh, never mind. It is such a bother.” If she was waiting for him to encourage her, she might have a long wait.

  “Would you care for a drink, Helen?” he asked.

  “Thank you. I’d love a white wine.”

  “Another little champagne for me.” Camille wiggled her glass at him
.

  The guests began arriving and soon Helen was caught up in people reminiscing about her father, with many asking about the charity they were supporting. She was amazed at how relaxed she was. Part of what helped was having Antoine close by.

  She greeted Jordana’s father and for a change he didn’t make her feel like an awkward teenager. If anything, he seemed to be peering down the front of her dress. She hurried on to greet someone else. The music, food and drink seemed to keep everyone circulating and happy. She’d almost forgotten that she was due to give a speech until George appeared at her side.

  “We’ll be doing the speeches soon in the ballroom. And you’ll be glad to know that people are already bidding like crazy on several of the paintings. Did I mention yet that you look fabulous? That dress, your hair—you’re just like a movie star.”

  “Thanks George. I really appreciate your support. And that suit makes you look very dapper.”

  “Well I could’ve rented a tux, but I thought they’d be common at an event like this. I decided instead to go for the suit with a flashy vest. And a watch fob,” he added showing off his pocket watch and fob with pride.

  “Very classy,” she agreed.

  They made their way into the ballroom. She’d always loved the ballroom with its high, molded ceiling, ornate woodwork and polished dance floor. Now it was almost unrecognizable. The design team of Randy and Andy had glittered and decorated with abandon. It didn’t seem suitable for either a memorial or a fund raiser for hungry children. No matter, Helen reminded herself, as long as the money got to the kids. Her gut tightened as George stepped onto the riser to introduce her. Another large sip of wine and she was off and running.

  The audience seemed attentive and appreciative. She even got several laughs when she told of her wilder experiences at some of the co-ops around New York. It was exciting and exhilarating to have all those people listening to her. She hadn’t even required her cue cards—which was lucky since they were in her purse that she’d misplaced.

  After she’d finished, she returned to the crowd and watched as Antoine offered up a large pledge to the charity and encouraged others to be generous as well. He was so handsome and self-assured, Helen felt even more smitten, if that was possible.

  A burst of applause signaled the start of the Latino dance troupe. She stood with George and watched the dancers for a bit and then moved to search for her purse. She headed down the hall to see if she’d left it in the living room. A hand touched her arm as a waft of expensive perfume engulfed her.

  “Excusez-moi? Helen Dunhill? I am Angeline Dumont. We met, it was two nights before.” Once again, Angeline was stunning. Tall, with short brown curls, framing a delicate, flawless face. Her dress was a magnificent red material that draped suggestively over her slender frame.

  “Oh yes. Of course.”

  “My brother, Antoine, has mentioned you.”

  Helen choked on her wine. She hadn’t realized this was his sister. Of course, she’d have a different last name; she was married to the vintner. “Well I’m glad you could make it out for the gala,” Helen said between coughs.

  “Yes, Antoine insisted that Laurenne and I attend.” Angeline’s eyes seemed to harden. “He has been affianced to Laurenne for a long time. They are perfect together.”

  “Well she is very beautiful.” Helen wondered how to make her getaway.

  “And intelligent. He needs someone strong like her to aid him, n’est-ce pas?”

  “I guess. I’d better go, I—”

  “First, can you show me to the study? I have a letter to drop off for Antoine from my husband. Men, it is always business with them.”

  “Sure. It’s just down there. Third door.” Helen smiled and turned to leave.

  “Non, please. Come with me. I do not wish anyone to think I am breaking in.” Angeline ducked her head in embarrassment. “I have seen the guards here today.”

  Helen reluctantly led Angeline into the study and stopped. Laurenne perched on Antoine’s desk wearing very skimpy underwear and nothing else. Helen stood there speechless. Then Antoine said something in French from the bathroom. He came out holding his pants in his hand. His reaction to seeing Helen and Angeline would have been comical, if her heart wasn’t breaking. Helen fled the room.

  *

  Helen found Bettina in the kitchen and enlisted her help in finding Edward for a ride back to the hotel. Thankfully, the older woman hadn’t pushed her to explain why she was upset. Edward had been equally polite and she’d controlled her emotions in the car until she got to the hotel. Once inside the safety of her room, her tears erupted. Her big plan to make Laurenne jealous had failed miserably. Once again, the other woman had won.

  Well, she’d known that Antoine wasn’t hers. She’d just assumed he wouldn’t have sex with two women on the same day. Although who knows why she’d thought that, given his appetite. She was a fool. Antoine had the ability to make her lose all sense. This time, she would be truly free of him. He’d marry his perfect fiancée. Helen would go back to New York with a big, fat check for the charity. And life would go on.

  When she undressed for bed, she realized she was still wearing Antoine’s expensive jewelry. Damn! Well tomorrow she’d drop by the estate to say goodbye to Bettina and Edward, find her damn purse, and give the jewelry back. What could be easier?

  CHAPTER 14

  Sunshine flooded the room. Helen grumbled and flipped the blankets over her head. She turned over a few more times, reluctant to crawl out of bed. Her flight was at three-twenty. She’d go to her father’s house at one-fifteen. Then she’d either catch a ride with Edward or call a taxi and still be at the airport in plenty of time. Packing her bags, she debated keeping her new dresses from Antoine. There wasn’t much point in giving them back. They wouldn’t fit any of his Amazon models and after the alterations he couldn’t return them.

  After checking that she’d packed everything, Helen changed into her bathing suit for one last swim. No matter how many times she swam on vacation, she always regretted when she got back to the grungy city that she hadn’t spent more time in the beautiful, clear water. She bypassed the pool to luxuriate in the warm ocean, floating on her back and reminiscing about her childhood visits to the Bahamas.

  The year she and Taylor had rounded up the stray dogs to get them neutered. They thought the vet would help because it would mean less strays to infect the expensive guard dogs. Instead, the vet offered to kill the dogs. Then they’d washed the mutts in hopes of finding them homes. Helen’s father had said he found a farm that wanted them. It wasn’t until years later that she realized he’d probably had them destroyed.

  There’d been that great winter when she’d hung out with Tyrone and he taught her to make the straw bags his family sold in the market. That was the year she’d wanted to be black. The parties with Jordana, and all their unrequited teenage crushes. Church with Bettina, with the glorious singing and speaking in tongues. Helen sighed as she flipped over and swam back to shore. She would eventually relegate the memories of Antoine to this big pile of Bahamian flashbacks.

  *

  Edward had been eager to take her to the airport saying it would only take him a few minutes to get the car up and running. He’d been doing some tune-ups when she arrived. Bettina kept her amused with tales of little Audrey Selena while they waited. And waited…

  “You know, maybe I should call a cab,” Helen suggested. “I don’t want to get to the airport late.”

  “Oh no. Edward would be hurt,” Bettina insisted. “He’ll be ready any time now.”

  “Alright, Miss Dunhill, your carriage awaits,” Edward said as he came in the door. It seemed as though he shared a secret look with Bettina. Maybe Helen was just super-sensitive to people in love. Sigh.

  “Thanks again for everything,” Helen said as she got in the car.

  “You’re welcome, child. And remember, not everything is as it seems,” Bettina replied

  “What? You sound like a fortune cookie
.”

  “I’m just saying that you should give peoplethe benefit of the doubt.”

  “I do. Bye.” She sat back as Edward finally started the car for their drive out to the airport. She stared out the window at the familiar scenery passing by.

  “I have to pick up a package on the way, miss,” Edward explained as he turned off the main road and headed up a gravel road.

  “Will this take long?” She checked her watch. They were already cutting it pretty close.

  “Just be a second,” he reassured her.

  Helen settled back into her seat. She was checking through her bag for all her documents when she heard a loud grinding noise. The car shuddered and then silently rolled to a stop. She looked at Edward in alarm.

  “It’s probably nothing. I’ll check the engine.” He hopped out and buried his head in the engine.

  “Could you maybe call me a cab?” she asked. “I’ve really got to be there soon.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll get you there.” Edward jumped back into the driver’s seat and turned the key with no discernible effect. He went back to the engine again. Other than him banging metal things, the engine remained silent.

  She followed him to the front of the car and peered in as well. It looked like an engine to her. “Can I borrow your phone?” she asked.

  “Sorry miss. I left it recharging.”

  Helen sat in the car mesmerized by her watch as her flight time passed by. At ten minutes past her time of departure, Edward shouted, “Aha!” and ran back to the driver’s seat. The engine turned over and the limo rumbled to life.

  “I missed my plane. Hopefully I can book a different one at the airport for Miami.” She chewed the inside of her lip to keep herself from crying. This was just a little delay.

  “It’s much better to book by computer,” he advised her. “Don’t worry. I’ll take you home.” He started to turn the car around.

  “Shouldn’t you pick up your package since we’re already here?” She re-sorted her documents to keep herself occupied.