Because We Belong: A Because You Are Mine Novel (4 page)

She loved Anne and James. Confronting the harsh reality head on that she was no longer destined to be part of their family made breathing, let alone talking, a challenge for several seconds. She just nodded her head politely when Lucien introduced her to Ian’s cousin, Gerard Sinoit.

The only spot left at the gleaming cherrywood conference table was at the head. Francesca was forced to take the seat. “Thank you,” she said quietly once she’d sat, briefly meeting Lin Soong’s gaze as Ian’s executive assistant set a club soda with lime in front of her. Lin abruptly reached and squeezed her hand, as always, her genuine compassion and warmth a striking contrast to her cool beauty and polished professional elegance. Francesca turned her hand and squeezed back, thankful for the subtle show of support in these difficult circumstances.

“Lin, you’re welcome to stay for the meeting if you like. No one knows more about Noble Enterprises on the face of the earth, save Ian himself,” Gerard said kindly.

“This is a matter for the board to decide,” Lin said with a smile. “I’m right outside the door if I can be of any help.”

Gerard looked at Francesca in the silence following Lin’s departure. “We recognize this must be very difficult for you—”

Francesca shook her head once, and he halted. She gave him a weak apologetic smile at her abrupt gesture. “Can we please just get to the issue at hand? What’s happening with Tyake?”

Gerard cleared his throat, glancing from James to Lucien. Lucien just lifted his eyebrows expectantly, and Gerard launched into a description of Noble Enterprises’ bid for the gaming and technology conglomerate. Francesca listened carefully, studying him as he spoke. His presentation was eloquent, confident, and knowledgeable. She’d never met Ian’s cousin before, but knew Ian had called him “uncle” as a child, despite the fact that Gerard was only eight years older than Ian. Ian had only been ten when his grandparents had found him and his missing mother in northern France. When he’d returned with them to Britain, withdrawn and distrustful, Gerard had helped Anne and James to bring him out of himself and know security for the first time in his life.

Gerard looked younger than his thirty-nine years, the white dress shirt he wore along with a herringbone blazer highlighting his fit, muscular build. His hair was a chestnut brown that matched the color of his eyes, but she definitely could make out the slight nuances of a family resemblance. A flicker of annoyance went through her at the automatic thought as she searched Gerard’s face.

Would there ever come a time when she didn’t compare a man to Ian?

She knew that Gerard was an attorney, although he’d primarily used his legal education to help him manage his investments and properties, which were considerable. He was the owner of a hugely successful electronics firm that boasted lucrative private and government customers. She knew that Sinoit Electronics was one of Noble Enterprises’ suppliers, just as Ian provided Sinoit with certain patented computer technology. Ian had told her in the past Gerard possessed a brilliant business mind and had easily quadrupled his parents’ inheritance when they had died, passing it on to him at the tender age of eighteen. Gerard was also the heir to James Noble’s title of Earl of Stratham, although Ian would inherit his grandfather’s properties and fortune. As an illegitimate child, Ian could not inherit the title by law. As a result, the title would fall to James’s considerably younger sister Simone’s son, Gerard, who was the next male, legitimate descendent of James. Francesca recalled that Gerard was divorced and childless. He was also rich and quite handsome. All of those things had combined to make him one of the most eligible bachelors in Britain. Ian used to occasionally allude, with wry amusement, to that fact that Gerard was an expert at eluding the greedy grasp of a majority of women, while effortlessly seducing the select minority that pleased him. Now, Francesca understood firsthand what he’d meant.

“So as you can see,” Gerard was saying in summation, “we are poised to make the necessary move to purchase Tyake. Fast action is required, though. Given the Japanese financial crisis, the owner is desperate to sell. He values quick cash even more than a good deal at this point. I understand from Lucien that you’re aware of how much Ian wanted Tyake?” he asked, brown eyes focusing on Francesca.

She nodded. “He made several offers, but they refused him every time. He was always envious of their programming talent. He said Tyake had contracted the most exceptional men and women on the planet before the business community in the West even understood the market. I assume the employment contracts will transfer to Noble Enterprises in the deal?”

“Absolutely,” Lucien said, leaning forward, his elbows on the table. “That was a crucial element of the proposed deal.”

She transferred her attention to him. Lucien had the benefit of knowledge of his adoptive father’s hotel and entertainment conglomerate, and had made his own mark in the hospitality and restaurant industry.

“What do you think, Lucien?” she asked.

“I think we should do whatever we can to acquire Tyake. I think it’s what Ian would want. But I’d advise against getting the capital for the purchase through this acquisition loan fund. Their contracts can be trickier than banks, and if Noble should default on the smallest item, there could be a risk of—”

“Noble Enterprises is enjoying robust financial health,” Gerard said. “There’s no reason it should default on anything.” He turned his attention to Francesca. “Time is of the essence here. It could be weeks, even months, before we get enough money by liquidating assets. This acquisition loan fund is willing and ready to give us the capital to buy Tyake now. As soon as we have your word, that is, Francesca.” Gerard added with a polite nod and a warm smile. She attempted to smile back, but her lips felt stiff and frozen.

“And I suppose no one sitting here will admit to being in contact with Ian?” she asked, her voice sounding stronger than she’d expected saying Ian’s name. She examined each face at the table in turn. “Because that would be the simplest solution: to merely ascertain from Ian what he’d like us to do.”

“Francesca—” Anne Noble began, a wretched expression on her lined, but still lovely face.

“We’re telling the truth when we say we have no idea where Ian is,” James finished for her. He covered his wife’s hand with his own in a comforting gesture. “We haven’t heard a word from him. Gerard and Lucien are as much in the dark as us. We’re all—each and every once of us—both ignorant of his location and well-being, and sick about it.”

She sensed the truth of what they’d said, intuiting the couple’s misery. With a sharp pain, she realized this was the second time in the couple’s lives that a loved one had vanished. Helen, Ian’s mother, had gone missing for over a decade before they finally discovered her, weak and psychotic, being cared for by a boy with the manner of an adult, a child forced to grow up far before his time.

“I’m sorry,” Francesca said, recognizing she’d lashed out on the undeserving in her anguish. Perhaps she’d even been hopeful someone would confess to speaking with Ian. She looked away from Anne’s eyes because the pain she saw there was too much of a reflection of her own. “What do you two think of the purchase proposal?” she asked, valuing not only James’s long lifetime of experience managing his own extensive holdings, but also Anne’s acute business understanding that came from wisely managing some of the richest charity funds in the world.

“I know how much Ian coveted Tyake, and I agree time is of the essence,” James said.

“As do I,” Anne seconded.

“Even you would have to agree that quick action is necessary, isn’t that right, Lucien?” James asked.

“Yes, but prudence is always just as crucial,” Lucien replied quietly.

“We’ve used this acquisition loan fund before when we needed to make a quick purchase in our own ventures,” Anne told Francesca. “They have always been dependable. Gerard has been working nonstop for the past four days to hammer out this deal.”

“Thank you for all the hard work,” Francesca told Gerard.

“It was nothing. I was more than glad to do it for Ian.”

James gave a half smile and glanced at his nephew. “Gerard has always been willing to sacrifice his valuable time for Ian. Remember that motorcycle the three of us put together when Ian first came to us as a boy? You were right about that. It really did help us to bond with Ian . . . make him a little more comfortable in a strange land with strange people,” James mused, his expression faraway and a little sad.

Gerard smiled. “If only we could do something as simple now to connect with him. He needs his family now more than ever,” he said, nodding in Lucien’s direction as if to include him. It confirmed Francesca’s suspicion that Gerard knew Lucien and Ian were half brothers. How much else he knew about their father, Trevor Gaines, and Gaines’s unsavory history, she didn’t know. Anne and James knew the entire truth, but she wasn’t sure where they would stand as far as telling Gerard.

Lucien shifted in his chair at Gerard’s words. Was he as uncomfortable with all this talk of Ian’s family as Francesca was? She was the biggest outsider here, but perhaps Lucien was a close second. True, the Nobles had accepted the painful fate that linked Lucien and Ian as blood relatives, but neither Lucien nor she could claim the intimate bonds of family history that only years of experience and love provided.

“So you’re uncomfortable with all this, Lucien?” Francesca prodded gently.

“I’d like to examine our options. As I said, these contracts with acquisition loan companies can be extremely delicate and convoluted. Ian didn’t tend to use acquisition loan companies, unless it was in the most extreme circumstances.”

“Ian has used them in the past when he wanted to jump on a deal,” Gerard said. “I asked Lin earlier, and she assured me it was true on two other occasions when Ian recognized timing was crucial.”

“He chose not to use them on dozens of other occasions, and always did what he could to avoid it,” Lucien said.

“And there are other options, aren’t there?” Francesca asked. “We could liquidate some assets for the purchase?”

“No,” Lucien corrected, moving his stare from Gerard to Francesca. “
You
could, Francesca. Ian left the power of attorney for such large liquidations and acquisitions only with you.”

Francesca nodded, hoping she adequately disguised how overwhelmed she felt as she studied the four other faces at the table. She tried to imagine what Ian would want. A voice in her head urged caution.

She didn’t like that the voice was Ian’s in the slightest.

“I agree with Lucien,” she said at last. “At the very least, I’d like the opportunity to read over the deal in detail before I decide. Of course, I’ll need all of your advice. As you all know, I’m an artist, not a businesswoman.”

“We’d be happy to give whatever clarification we can,” Gerard assured. He gave James a knowing sideways glance. “Besides, Ian once told James and I that he’d been regularly coaching you on business matters and that you had more innate understanding of financial intricacies than some of his top executives.”

Perhaps Gerard had thought she’d be flattered by Ian’s compliment, because his smile faltered when he saw her expression. She stood abruptly.

“May I take a copy of the proposal with me?”

“Of course, Lin has one prepared for you,” Gerard said, standing as well. He was nearly as tall as Ian. “But we—that is, James, Anne and I—were going to suggest that you stay with us for the next few days. It’ll be easier than having you try to get us by phone every time you have a question. We can put in some late nights and plow through the deal together.”

“Can you take off a few days from your painting?” Anne asked. Francesca hesitated as she looked into the elderly woman’s cobaltblue eyes. Ian had inherited his grandmother’s eyes. “We’d so like to spend some time with you. James and I miss you.”

“I miss you, too,” Francesca said honestly before she could stop herself. She examined the polished grain of the wood table, waiting for her composure to return.

“I can manage a few days, I think,” she said after a moment. “I just finished a piece that was meant as a Christmas gift for the buyer’s wife. I was planning on taking some time off until the New Year.”

“You’ll have to tell me all about your work, and how your final project went for school. I look forward to hearing about everything in your life. We have so much to catch up on, aside from this business deal,” Anne said warmly, coming toward her and taking her hand. Impulsively, Francesca gave her a hug, smiling at the familiar scent of Anne’s perfume.

“I’d like that,” Francesca said.

“Good. Well, that’s all settled then. Why don’t we get everything we need from Lin and head over to the penthouse? We can have dinner together,” Gerard said.

“The penthouse?” Francesca asked numbly.

“That’s where we’re all staying while here in Chicago. I hope it’s all right,” James said in a conciliatory manner. “I know that Ian bequeathed the use of his properties to you, but we realized you weren’t in residence. And Anne said . . . that is . . . well, that she hadn’t been able to get ahold of you to tell you our plans,” James said awkwardly. Francesca felt her cheeks warm at his delicate handling of the fact that she’d been ignoring phone calls and deleting e-mails from Ian’s grandparents. “Eleanor begged us to stay there instead of a hotel,” James continued, referring to Ian’s housekeeper, Mrs. Hanson, a longtime Noble family retainer and loyal friend. “Poor lady. She’s been quite lonely rambling around that big old place by herself. She misses family. She misses you.”

Francesca’s throat swelled uncomfortably. How horrible she was, not to have visited Mrs. Hanson or even called. She knew how much the housekeeper doted on Ian. She must be so lonely.

“I look forward to seeing her then,” Francesca said, her heart beating very fast. When she noticed Lucien’s gaze on her, she knew her anxiety hadn’t escaped him.

“Will you be there, too, Lucien?” she asked hopefully.

“I’m afraid not. Elise is returning from Paris this evening after a visit to her parents.”