Notorious in Nice (13 page)

“Go ahead,” he ordered, never breaking their manacled gaze. “We’ll be there in a second.”

“I’ll wait. You can’t be trusted alone with her.”

“Su-Lin, are we okay?”

“Yesss.” She drew the word out in a faint hiss.

“Let me escort her up, Ter. I suggest you find a jacket. That boner’s hard to miss.”

He took Thomas’s advice and went to his cabin in search of clothing. Terry joined the assembled group on deck as their taxi boat arrived ten minutes later. Dusk’s wavering shadows held sway over a navying Mediterranean, and the temperature dipped as a tacky gust swept across the deck riffling through Terry’s hair. Muddled aftershaves and a cloying, flowery perfume enveloped the gathered dinner group.

A sweep of the deck showed Thom and Harrison standing to one side, and Su-Lin bracketed by her relatives. He identified the source of the too-sweet aroma, Emma Lockheed, when he pushed between her and Su-Lin.

Something had changed.

Terry cut to James, and surprise lifted his eyebrows at the man’s scowling face, the tight set of his mouth. He no longer appeared the doting, jovial uncle. Instead, James radiated a piercing fury, and he had a dangerous edge to his squared shoulders. His pale blue eyes settled on Terry, and the menace in that gaze bristled old commando habits to the forefront.

Terry shuffled his feet, agitation rising with each clandestine dart Lockheed shot him.

“Something wrong, James?” He went on the attack.

“My niece is a very innocent young woman, O’Connor, and unless you plan to marry her, I’d suggest you keep a wide distance.”

“Where the hell did that come from?”

“She may have come upstairs with your brother, but since he’s gay, I don’t expect he was the one who kissed her senseless.”

Su-Lin’s pouty, swollen lips caught Terry’s attention, and he clamped his mouth together to stifle his automatic response. But mindful of her request to keep their relationship secret, he opted for a different tack, and repressed aggression graveled his voice.

“And why would you think Thomas is gay?”

That discombobulated the man. James Lockheed’s jowls reddened, and a line of perspiration paralleled his receding hairline.

Alerted by the mention of his name, Thomas edged closer to the two men, swapping an anxious glance with his brother.

During the fracas, Emma and Su-Lin had boarded, and Harrison had one foot on deck, the other in midair.

“Yes, James, why would you think that?” Thomas’s soft question always preceded a battering-ram offensive, Terry remembered.

“We’ll settle this later, James, Thomas.” Terry bent to the man’s florid face and clamped one hand around his fleshy arm. “If you so much as repeat what you just said, even if only to yourself, I guarantee you’ll be in hospital for a few months. Get on board.”

Arms akimbo, the twins stared at James’s hunched back when he turned to face the water taxi.

“Going to be a pleasant cruise, boyo,” Terry growled. “Now, why did he jump to that conclusion? Are you sure Father doesn’t know?”

The last rays of the sun faded, and reflected lights from the
Glory
bobbed and swayed with the lapping waves. Su-Lin had piled her hair on top of her head in some sort of sexy, messy tumble. A current of air flashed across the bay, and the wind pulled a few strands loose.

Thomas shrugged. “Let’s face it, Terry, he’d be blind, deaf, and dumb not to know. I gave up caring whether he knew I was gay years ago. I’m discreet. I don’t flaunt it. A few of my colleagues suspect. But I take out the occasional woman and hit the social scene just enough so people aren’t certain.”

“Do you think James will mention anything to Father?”

Both shoulders lifted, and Thomas replied, “At this point, I don’t really care. Let’s get on board. I have a feeling this is going to be a long, tedious evening.”

“Agreed.”

When their taxi docked at one of Nice’s piers, Harrison helped Su-Lin step foot on the wooden jetty. James and Emma surrounded Su-Lin, her aunt crooking elbows with her niece. Terry, Harrison, and Thomas strolled behind the three relatives. Terry listened to Emma prattling about Hong Kong, about how much Su-Lin would love it there. The woman didn’t stop for a breath once, and he marveled at her lung capacity.

Suresh had made reservations at a restaurant near the tram stop.

An intimate, twenty-seat haven off one of Nice’s busy streets with open, burnished oak stable doors, Terry had first introduced the Internet wunderkind to the establishment a few weeks earlier. Suresh termed it “The Bottle Restaurant” because of its wall-to-wall display of miniature liquor bottles dating back over a hundred and fifty years.

Terry and Thomas had to duck to enter the bistro.

Geoff Stanford, all aristocratic and haughty, sat at a circular table with a burgundy leather-bound wine list in front of him. He and the proprietress discussed his selection, Geoff in flawless, Parisian-accented French, the matron in a more provincial tone.

Seated to Geoff’s right, Suresh Singh stood, threw his napkin on the table, and halted all movement when he caught sight of Thomas.

Terry’s mouth curved, and he and Thom swapped grins at Suresh’s almost-comical surprise, mouth open, one hand doing a questioning wave, while his eyes did a rapid-fire examination of each twin.

“I didn’t know you had a brother, far less an identical twin,” he said, walking forward and clapping Terry on the shoulder.

“Yeah, I’m full of surprises. Thomas, this is Suresh Singh, Internet billionaire, and a decided pain in the backside.”

“Nice to meet you.”

The men shook hands.

“What’s the occasion?” Terry inclined his head to Geoff, now joined by James Lockheed.

“I’m launching a charitable organization to eliminate illiteracy. It’s pioneered around under eleven inner-city soccer leagues.”

“Interesting concept.”

Su-Lin and Emma had stopped to look at jewelry in a window case. Terry knew the moment she entered the restaurant.

Suresh’s head did an exorcist whip, and his jaw dropped open. “Crimey, tell me she’s not your wife, Thomas.”

He uncurled one bent knee and strode forward, his gaze pasted on Su-Lin.

Terry clamped his hand on Suresh’s shoulder, effectively halting his momentum.

“She’s mine,” he growled.

“You got married?” Charcoal eyebrows separated and lifted. “You?”

“We’re not married, but she belongs to me.”

“Uh-uh, don’t pull that Rolan crap on me. I told him and I’ll tell you, unless there’s a wedding band, no one’s off limits. Unhand me, man.” Suresh shook Terry’s hand off and ate up the distance to Su-Lin.

“She’s in love with you, you know,” Thomas said, his voice a bare murmur.

Sizzling sounds preceded the scent of searing meat.

Thomas sniffed. “Lamb, if I’m not mistaken. Su-Lin’s good for you, Ter.”

“She’s in lust. The woman has had no life, no childhood. She’s stayed on the sidelines all her life. With her looks, it’s amazing she went through adolescence without being groped or raped. Do you know she’d never even been kissed until a few days ago?” He couldn’t take his eyes off Su-Lin. She wore a soft green sundress with spaghetti straps and a curved neckline, which revealed cleavage that had his mouth watering the minute he caught sight of her.

She needed a pendant to match the emerald earrings, he decided. And a ring. He choked back the thought, but it formed anyway, a big-ass emerald ring, and a thick wedding band, a symbol no man could mistake. Maybe one of those collar necklaces, one with his initials engraved all over it; a smile captured his mouth as he pictured it.

“Ter, have you heard a word I’ve said?” Thomas shook his arm.

“Sorry, boyo. What?”

“Su-Lin’s cocked onto Suresh’s idea. She wants to buy a gym and teach gymnastics to children who normally wouldn’t have the opportunity to learn. Children in foster homes.”

“When did this come up?” The notion had his sixth sense pinging away, but he couldn’t pinpoint what disturbed him about the idea.

“When Emma mentioned the masked ball, she explained what Suresh wanted to do.”

“She spoke about her idea in front of her relatives?” He rolled his shoulders, but the uneasy feeling persisted.

“I’m not sure if she’s told them. When we were waiting for you in the entertainment area, she told me about her plans. She’s so excited. You should have seen her. I swear if she hadn’t been wearing a dress, she would have done a cartwheel.”

“Thom, I’ve been trying to find a way to tell you this for a while. I saw Carol-Ann today, near the train station.”

“Bloody hell,” Thomas muttered as he stumbled backward. “She would only be here if she’s up to something.”

“Nothing makes sense.” Terry shook his head. “Why is she here? Why is Father here? He’s ignoring you as much as he’s ignoring me, and you’ve been the good twin, the heir, and all that.”

“He wants me to sire another Gore. Get married, settle down.”

“Are you going to? For the sake of the title?”

“The last thing I want is to follow in his footsteps. I have no desire to have a child. The title will go to your first son, if you don’t inherit it sooner.”

“You are not going to die on the operating table, Thomas, not if I have anything to say about it.”

“We have to face reality. And talk about the consequences.”

“Do you think I don’t fricking know that? But not here, not now, and there’s no sodding way you’re getting off the hook so easily. You’re the earl, not me.”

“We’ll table the issue. Everyone’s sitting down, and a second ago, you lost your chance to sit next to Su-Lin.”

Terry mugged a scowl Suresh’s way, and the young billionaire gave him a victory salute as he scooted Su-Lin’s chair closer to the round table.

Thomas took the empty seat next to Emma Lockheed, while Terry schlepped into the chair next to Harry.

“Suresh has his eyes on our woman.”

“No ‘our’ about it. You stole one kiss, and that’s all you’re ever going to get.”

Geoff, on his left, asked, “Ever? Sounding pretty long-term there, chappie. This one’s going to last longer than a week?”

“It’s a three-week charter,” Terry hedged. “You know the relatives?”

“I’d never heard of James Lockheed until a few weeks ago, myself. He Skyped me about chartering the
Glory
. Said a friend had recommended the yacht.”

“He never mentioned anything about speaking with you. I engineered a meeting with him in Antibes after I met Su-Lin and found out they controlled her schedule.” Terry thumbed his jaw and stared at James Lockheed. “I thought
I
manipulated the man into the charter.”

“Did you now? I arranged the
Glory
charter for Thomas the minute he made the request. I let Lockheed know the
Glory
wasn’t available that same day. Something doesn’t add up.” Geoff drummed his fingers on the table. “Could this be some sort of setup?”

“To what purpose?”

“Su-Lin. The usual. Marriage?”

Terry’s stomach caved as if he’d been sucker punched. His mouth soured.

“Doesn’t make sense.” He forced out the words. “They’re rich. Don’t need the money.”

“One easy way to clear this up, Terry. Let’s ask Lockheed why he didn’t mention his phone call to me. Wait a minute, when I canceled the charter, I spoke with the wife, not Lockheed. It could be a simple case of miscommunication. How do you want to proceed?”

“Not worth pursuing the matter at this point, Geoff, not with Lockheed being hostile about my relationship with Su-Lin. Sleeping dogs and all that.”

The matronly proprietress strolled to their table, a bottle of wine clutched to her chest, two crystal goblets dangling upside down from her fingers. She deposited the glasses on the linen-covered table, nudging them into correct positions, and brandished the label on the bottle in front of Geoff.

Terry waited until the woman finished pouring wine for the whole table, filling their balloon glasses a third of the way. Thomas refused the alcohol, holding a palm over his glass.

“Carol-Ann’s in Nice, Geoff. I saw her this morning.” Terry took a fortifying glug of the Bordeaux vintage.

“She found you?” Geoff’s normal reticent expression changed, and his mouth curled into a sneer. “She’s the reason I flew in. Couldn’t find her in Singapore, and I had business here and wanted to warn you in person. That’s all you need added to this ticking situation, Carol-Ann.”

Harrison’s head whipped around. “What’d you say? Carol-Ann? Big hair, boobs out to here, long cheerleader legs?”

“Yes,” Geoff answered.

“You know her?” Harry arched a brown eyebrow.

“She’s been my stepmother for the last dozen years,” Terry said, and he knew the minute he saw Harrison’s face that Murphy’s Law had slammed them all. Things were about to get roller-coaster worse.

Harry’s Texan sun-bronzed complexion greened right before Terry’s eyes and his bean-hardened cowboy stomach seemed ready to regurgitate its contents. He shoved out from the table and took two lunging strides through the only door in the back of the restaurant.

Metal clanged onto the stone floor in a blistering inferno. A woman shrieked. A man shouted in a furious combination of Franglish. Harrison stumbled out the doorway he’d careened into, looking like doused rawhide.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Harry screwed your stepmother?”

“I should have known when Thomas said she had the hots for some cowboy. What a fricking mess.”

Something had changed.

Su-Lin stared at the closed connecting door to Terrence’s cabin. The knotting tendons in her neck burned and stabbed like daggers as she turned her head away.

Aunt Emma and Uncle James had collared her the whole evening. Each time she’d asked Suresh a question, either one or the other deflected his attention. Even more frustrating, she suspected they knew about her and Terry. They never let the two of them alone.

Geoff and Suresh had shown her the restaurant’s unique collection of miniature liquor bottles dating back to the seventeenth century. Halfway through the evening, when it had become apparent her relatives would do anything to keep Terry and her apart, she’d used the lit glass showcases as an excuse to get up and move about. Before Terry could join Su-Lin, Aunt Emma did a buddy-jump suit-up, never moving a half an inch from her side.

Two hours later, everything had deteriorated.

Terrence, Geoff, and Harrison murmured terse, sharp bites in fits and starts and ignored everyone else seated at the intimate table. Not once did Terrence glance in her direction. For three isolated hours, she ate and drank the finest vintage, the most selective fish and vegetables, and her tongue tasted sawdust and vinegar.

Su-Lin ordered a goat cheese salad appetizer. Aunt Emma changed it to scallops wrapped in bacon, remarking to everyone that her niece preferred seafood. True, but Su-Lin never touched meat. So she pushed the food around with her fork and chewed on the two olives, which served as a garnish.

For the main course, she chose a white-wine-poached whole sole. Uncle James said that Mediterranean sole had high mercury levels and ordered macadamia-crusted wild Atlantic salmon instead. Allergic to macadamias since she entered adolescence, Su-Lin ate the medley of vegetables that came with the fish. Uncle James couldn’t be expected to know macadamias made her vomit. The last time she’d had them, her coach had to take her to the hospital.

Her relatives had been nothing but kind since discovering her existence, and she knew she should be grateful for their lavish spoiling and spending. Yet every correction, every condescending comment, niggled at her self-confidence and spiked her slow-boil temper a notch.

They crowded her on the water taxi ride back to the
Glory
.

Aunt Emma gabbed nonstop. Su-Lin tuned out, replaying the images of Terrence’s massive, sinewy thighs, but even those images didn’t alleviate her unease.

Breeze created by the boat’s momentum blew Su-Lin’s hair back from her face. Varied aromas mingled on the wind, frying fish, unfiltered French cigarettes, and fumes from the scooters buzzing in the distance. Behind them, the buildings of Nice twinkled. Headlights put-putted around the harbor front, edging forward in starts and jerks, like individual colored balls in a game of marbles.

She tried to catch Terry’s gaze, but he continued his murmured conversation with Geoff and Harrison. She studied Terrence’s lips as he spoke, but every time he chomped off a phrase to either man, he averted his head.

The other two men appeared ragged for wear. Time and time again, Harry dug both hands through his hair. Between the stiff, tacky sea breeze and his furious repeated gesture, he looked caveman wild, caveman angry.

Geoff, the calmest of the three, stood in the middle, one hand on either man’s shoulder, and at one point, he shook both men, eyebrows slashed, lips shooting out words. When they reached the yacht, all three hulking men vanished before Su-Lin could even make it onto the deck.

Aunt Emma and Uncle James insisted on accompanying her to the cabin and were adamant about having a drink on her balcony. Her uncle returned to the entertainment area and came back carrying three drinks: two glasses of red wine, and a short glass of scotch on ice. He smoked a fat, torpedo-shaped cigar while her aunt prattled on and checked Su-Lin’s wardrobe, chubby hands threading through the hanging clothes.

Su-Lin used both thumbs to knead the throbbing pressure points at her temples. The red wine tasted a little vinegary. Time drew out, and only after she’d finished her wine did her relatives leave. Every limb grew ten-pound weights, even her eyelids, but the closed connecting door to Terry’s cabin proved the devil’s lure.

Lethargic feet stumbled to the head. Sluggish hands worked at cleansing her face and brushing her teeth. Too battered to face Terrence nude, she donned a long T-shirt and shuffled to the door. Holding her breath, she tried the handle and came close to crying when it turned.

He still wanted her.

Remembering her aunt searching her belongings, Su-Lin retrieved her treasures from the bedside table drawer. His empty room yawned at her, and she slipped Terry’s presents onto a mahogany dresser. All at once exhausted, she rubbed her eyes and staggered to the bed. The satin sheets cooled her fevered, damp flesh, and she wondered about that for a smidgen before succumbing to a deep, dreamless sleep.

Morning sunlight warmed her cheeks, and one eyelid worked its way open.

Naked breasts met her gaze along with Terrence’s strong tanned arms cocooning her waist. His even puffs feathered her nape, and she sighed, contentment soothing a dull pounding behind her eyes. Holding still, wanting to prolong the poignancy of waking up with him, she studied his large hands, the thick fingers, the callused pads, which grazed sweet sensations.

Her thoughts swung back to last night’s dinner. A series of scattered shots of the evening flashed through her mind, and her brain settled around the three men, Geoff, Harrison, and Terrence.

Something had changed.

She knew the minute slumber left Terry by the slight hitch of his lungs against her back.

“Mornin’ darlin’,” he said, his voice sleep-gruffed.

His morning erection lengthened and thickened along her bottom cheek, and she scooted closer, rubbing her rear in a slow grind.

“Are you okay?” His deep baritone reverberated against her skin, skidding shivers to her curling toes. “You were in such a deep sleep last night. I didn’t have the heart to wake you up.”

She turned to face him, and he slid down on the pillow until their faces were level.

“I have a bit of a headache.”

“You’re very pale,” he said and stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. “I noticed you didn’t finish your food last night. Was the fish off?”

“I don’t like macadamia nuts, or rather, they don’t like me. I think one must have gotten into the vegetable medley. I feel kind of queasy too.” She rubbed her stomach.

“Su-Lin, darlin’, why’d you order the dish if you didn’t want it?”

“Uncle James said there was too much mercury in Mediterranean sole. He ordered the salmon instead.”

“Darlin’, I’m not understanding what happened.” He tucked a strand of silken hair behind her ears.

“I should have told Uncle James I’m allergic to macadamia nuts, I suppose. I don’t like to make a fuss.” A wave of nausea washed up her throat; she closed her eyes and breathed deeply.

“You’re not well,” Terrence said, leaning on his elbows and raking her features. “Look at me, darlin’, tell me what you’re feeling. Are you nauseous? You’re perspiring.” His thumb brushed her forehead. “I think we need to get you to a doctor.”

“No, please. I’ll be okay. Maybe a glass of water?”

“Don’t move a muscle. I’ll be right back.”

The mattress lifted as Terry levered off the bed, and the slight move collided with her roiling stomach. Su-Lin raced to the bathroom, passing Terry on the way. She threw up convulsively, belly heaving, damp hair clinging to her cheeks.

“Easy, easy, darlin’,” he crooned, his arms encircling her, warming her clammy flesh. “Let it all come up. Better to get it all out.”

“I don’t want you to see me like this,” she mumbled and tried to twist out of his hold.

“Shh. Here, take a sip of water,” he said, placing a cool glass against her lips. “Small sips. We need to keep you hydrated.”

She vomited the water.

“I’m taking you to the hospital,” Terrence stated and scooped her into his embrace. “You’re looking paler, darlin’, and you’re covered in sweat. I think you’ve got a bad case of food poisoning.”

“I’m okay. It’s just my reaction to the nuts. I need an antihistamine. It’s getting harder to breathe.”

“I know we have a supply in our emergency kit, but is there a particular brand you need?”

“Brown bottle, in my bathroom cabinet,” she managed to blurt amid fighting off a fresh upsurge of queasiness.

By the time Terry returned with the pills and a cup of water, the sick feeling had abated, replaced by clogged breathing.

“Su-Lin, you’re gasping for breath. Your skin’s taking on a bluish tinge. That’s it. I’m taking you to the hospital.”

“N0,” she managed to get out and held up one hand. “Pill…works…ten minutes.”

“In ten minutes, we can be in Nice.” He snatched a blanked from an adjacent armchair and wrapped it around her.

“Wait.” She panted, clutching the soft cotton. “Five…five…minutes.”

“Not a second longer,” he said, then sat on the bed and curled her onto his lap. In between stroking her back, he checked his watch.

Gradually, her breathing came under control and a numbed drowsiness tugged at her brain.

“Your eyes are closing. Should I let you sleep?”

She nodded. “Feel better when wake up.”

The antihistamine worked its magic, and she succumbed to lethargic slumber and the safety of Terry’s strong arms cuddling her close to his chest. His rhythmic even breathing coaxed her heart into a similar cadence and she slept relieved of all worries. When Su-Lin opened her eyes some indefinite period later, Terry’s gray gaze greeted her.

“Hi,” he said, tracing the line of her jaw. “Better?”

“Mmm, a little groggy. And hungry.”

He pressed his palm to her forehead. “No nausea?”

“No. I’m feeling okay. Honest.” She studied his somber features. “You look awfully serious.”

“You scared me, darlin’. After you took that antihistamine, your breathing slowed so much, I almost rushed you to the hospital. What else are you allergic to besides macadamia nuts?”

Avoiding his close scrutiny, she muttered, “Bacon.”

“Bacon?” His voice rose, incredulity masking a hint of mirth in his tone.

“It’s the nitrates,” she explained. “I can’t help it.”

“I’ll speak with the crew and make sure our new chef knows. There will be no nuts of any kind or bacon on board the
Glory
as of today.”

“You don’t have to go to that extent. Other nuts are okay. And I can usually avoid bacon. It’s pretty obvious.”

“Su-Lin, we need to talk.”

“That sounds ominous.” She pressed her lips together and stared at the far cabin wall.

“Uh-uh, darlin’, no clamming up on me.” His thumb and forefinger captured her chin, and he turned her face to his. “Have you told your uncle and aunt about your allergies?”

“Sort of.” She lifted a shoulder. “I didn’t want to make a fuss. I know I’m not like other girls my age. I know my aunt thinks I’m a little strange, that I’m too wrapped up in my Chinese heritage. They’re my only relatives in the world. Is it wrong for me to want them to like me?”

Fiddling with his medal, she touched a finger to the hollow in his throat.

“You have no idea how precious you are, do you? It’s impossible not to like you, Su-Lin Jenny Taylor. My brother adores you, Harry’s half in love with you, and me -- I’m obsessed with you.”

Her heart felt like it would leap out of her rib cage. She swallowed a couple of times and blinked until his mouth came into focus. “Is that good?” she whispered. “You haven’t made love to me.”

“Not because I don’t want to.” He touched a forefinger to her nose. “I don’t deserve you. My past isn’t pretty, Su-Lin. If you knew half of the things I’ve done.” He shook his head. “You’d run for your life.”

“There’s nothing you can say that would ever make me want to run away from you. Terrence, will you make love to me?” Her lungs stopped working, and she looked right into his dilated pupils.

“Promise me you won’t regret it.”

She drowned in his gaze. “Never. Cross my heart.” Su-Lin drew an
X
on her chest.

He kissed one eyebrow and nipped a slow path to her ear. “You inspire me every minute of the day and night. Ever since I first caught a glimpse of you, I haven’t been able to stop thinking of you.” Sucking on her lobe, he alternated between nibbles, licks, and hot breaths, and Su-Lin added another unlikely erogenous zone to her growing list.

Closing her eyes, she savored the feel of his lips caressing hers, the sweet, almost-painful sense of being cherished making her heart threaten to break through her rib cage. “You make me feel special,” she blurted.

“That’s because you are special, my darlin’. A gift I shouldn’t open.” He feathered kisses across her forehead, the bridge of her nose, the pulse beating at one temple. “You make me want to be a better man.”

“You are the best man I’ve ever met.” She bit his earlobe. “So noble, so strong, such a wonderful friend.”

Lowering his head, he tongued one nipple and electric sparks shot to her center. His heated breath on her damp areola shivered embers up her vertebrae. Two sharp teeth grazed her breast, pooling moisture between her legs. With unconscious provocation, Su-Lin sidled her left leg up above Terry’s waist and pointed her toes when his mouth moved in a moist trailing taste of her nape.

Useless bones, rubberized joints. Extremities fired darts in places hitherto asexual, the backs of her knees, her throbbing belly button, the curve of her shoulder blades.

“Slow down, darlin’,” he muttered. “I want you so much, but I don’t want to hurt you.” He rose onto his forearms and captured her mouth, sucking on her lower lip.

She opened her eyes to find him staring at her, his forehead creased. “Even if we use the oil, I can’t guarantee it won’t hurt.” He stroked the back of his hand over her cheek.

“It only hurts the first time,” she said, rubbing her thumb over his frown. “Make me yours, please. Let me belong.”

He swallowed and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he raked her features. “I may not be able to let you go, Su-Lin Taylor.”