Opposing Forces (20 page)

“Sadly not.  The car had been stolen, which was probably why it didn’t stop.”

“So that’s it, is it? The driver gets away free?”

Philippe loved Sabina’s scowl, it looked so cute on her face.  “No.  We’ll continue digging.  Hopefully we’ll find something on CCTV.”

After dinner, Philippe lured Sabina into the bedroom.  He had a very pressing problem that he needed to take care of.   “The thought of you naked has kept me warm these last few nights,” he nuzzled her ear as he stripped off her long-sleeved top.

“Charmer,” she retorted reaching for his shirt.

As his mouth explored her soft, silky skin, he noticed she had just a few too many bruises and scrapes for his liking.  “Would you mind explaining why you look like a battered child?” he asked solemnly.

A faint tinge of colour came into her cheeks.  “Oh, it’s nothing.”

“You’re black and blue, Sabina,” Philippe sat back up. He was not going to let this drop.  “Has someone hurt you?”  Perhaps now he might have an explanation as to why she turned so cold when talking about her father.

“No.”

“Please be honest, Sabina.  Whoever gave you these bruises can’t get away with it.”
 

“It was self-inflicted if you must know,” she snapped.  “I was late for University yesterday and slipped running down the icy stairs to the entrance.  Luckily I only descended one flight, not the whole six.”

“Really?” he stared accusingly at her.

“Yes. Now can we drop it? I felt like a totally tit at the time and really don’t need reminding of it.”

“I’m sorry, I worry about you.”  He leant down and softly kissed each bruise and graze.  “Do they still hurt?”

“Terribly, which is why you need to kiss and caress each one.”  Her tone had become seductive; she’d forgiven him for his cross-examination.

Maisie arrived at the Fontainbleu hotel none too happy.  Her boss Claude had phoned her the previous evening; he had caught a bug and would be unable to attend the function so could she please go instead.  It was the very last place she wanted to be, mixing with political dignitaries and the like, but Claude had dangled a particularly large bonus under her nose.

She had booked herself into a lovely little boutique hotel not far from the Fontainbleu.  As she stepped into the ballroom of the hotel, she was filled with that sense of dread.  It was going to be a long and very disappointing evening.  She had elected to wear a simple, powder blue dress that skimmed the contours of her body, the dropped sleeves showed off her slim shoulders.  She had pinned her hair up on just one side.  She really had not made much of an effort, she was that unimpressed with having to spend an evening here.

Across the room she caught sight of a familiar face; perhaps Pierre and Bettina might lift her melancholy. 

Bettina smiled warmly as she approached.  “Maisie, my dear, why the long face?”

“I’m the last minute stand in for my boss,” she moaned.

“Had you other plans for tonight?”

“A root canal,” she grumbled.  “Anyway, you look amazing.”  She stepped back to admire Sabina’s mother.  She had on the most fantastic pewter-coloured one-shouldered dress, which not only outlined her slim silhouette but was also split very high on one side.  The dress was trimmed in black lace and matched her long evening gloves.  She was nothing short of stunning. 

“Thank you, Maisie.”

“And how do I measure up?” Pierre grinned.

“You’re just an incorrigible, old rogue,” Maisie laughed with affection.

Pierre passed her a glass of champagne.  “Something to put a spring in your step whilst you do your rounds.”

“I might need something stronger,” she groaned. “This is going to be torture.”

Bettina laughed as Maisie gritted her teeth and put on her best plastic smile.  “How’s this?”

“Just perfect, my dear. Now go get them.”

Bettina slipped her arm through Pierre’s as Maisie sauntered off.  “I really do like her.  There is no falseness about her.”

“Yes, she is very endearing.  And she was quite right about how you look. I have already picked up many envious looks.”  Pierre’s arm tightened around her waist.  “If you had any idea what I would like to do to you right now, you would probably slap me very hard.”

Bettina brushed her lips over his ear.  “Actually, I think I might enjoy it.”

Pierre looked down into her lovely eyes.  “We could always cut tonight short...”

“Bettina?” 

The voice behind him stopped him mid flow.

Bettina turned to face her ex-husband.  “Hubert, how nice to see you again.”  Her voice carried her insincerity.

Hubert took hold of the gloved hand that was offered and kissed it formally.  “You look absolutely stunning.”  He sounded shocked, as though he had never seen his wife look anything more than dull.

“Thank you.  Have you met my partner, Pierre Rosselin?”

Hubert gave Pierre a look that was a mixture of hatred and envy.  “I have met the Councillor before.”  Bettina was irritated by the way he said Councillor, highlighting that it was a few stations below him.

She was aware that a crowd was watching them, wondering how the exes would fare against each other.  She looked at Hubert’s companion; it was the cheap redhead she had caught him with in Bern.  “Aren’t you going to introduce your …..er, date?” Bettina said disdainfully. 

“This is Jacqueline Meyer,” Hubert grunted.

Bettina stared at her for a moment.  “You do seem very familiar, Jacqueline.  Have we met before?” She paused a moment for added effect.  “Oh yes, I’m sorry. I didn’t recognise you with your clothes on!”  She laughed lightly and slid her arm back around Pierre.  “Well, do have a pleasant evening both of you. “  She steered Pierre off towards the bar.  “How did I do?” she whispered.

Pierre was having trouble controlling his laughter.  “I thought Hubert was going to burst a blood vessel.  Put you against that cheap tart and I think he realised his mistake.”  He pulled her to him.  “But he’s too late, I have you now.” He kissed her softly on the mouth.  “Now what were we discussing before he so rudely interrupted us.”

“Mother,” another familiar voice barked at her.

“Is this a bloody Grundberg reunion?” Pierre murmured in her ear making her laugh.

She spun round and smiled at her rather shocked-looking son.  “Steffen,” she kissed him affectionately on the cheek.  “At least I can say I am pleased to see you with a certain amount of honesty.”

“But what are you doing here?”

“I’m with Pierre.”  

Pierre grinned.  “I’ll get us some more drinks whilst you have your mother-son talk.”

Bettina led Steffen to a quiet corner.  He did look very handsome tonight in his black tie; she hoped he would track Maisie down.

“What did you mean you’re with Pierre?”

“I’ve been in a relationship with him for a short while now, Steffen.”  She caught the look of horror on his face.  “I am officially divorced from your father.”

“How did you meet Pierre?”

“In Lucerne, his daughter lives there.”

“Did you know Father is here tonight?”

“Yes. He’s with the same tart I caught him with back in the summer.  You should congratulate me at least for having a relationship with someone in my own age bracket.”

“But do you have to flaunt your relationship?”

“Flaunt?” Bettina queried.  “Pierre just kissed me.  A natural thing to do when you care for someone.  You should try it.”

“I don’t need a lecture on my private life,” Steffen grunted.

“Perhaps you do.  Did you know Maisie Carrington is here?  Delightful woman.  You should certainly catch her. Or have you come with another brainless, stick insect?”

“This conversation is over, Mother,” Steffen stalked off.

Bettina smiled to herself, she knew where to aim with Steffen. A glass of champagne materialised in front of her.

“How did he take it?”

“With about as much good grace as you would expect.  I think he thought I would spend my remaining years in quiet seclusion.  Poor baby.”

Pierre’s arm slid around her waist again.  “Whenever you want to leave, just say.”

Maisie was bored to tears; she hated politicians and their wives were no better.  The men kept giving her lecherous glances and the women spiteful looks.  All apart from Pierre and Bettina.  They made her smile.  It was good to see that romance was not dead after all.

She stared out the French windows to the gardens below.  They were covered with a thin layer of snow and looked amazing lit up.   She saw his reflection appear behind her and felt her stomach knot immediately.  Had she known he was on the guest list, she would not have come.

“I was hoping to run into you,” he spoke softly behind her.

“And why is that?  Did I not return your Mont Blanc pen?”

He tilted his head.  “We never got a chance to talk.”

“Strange as it seems, Chief Grundberg, I do believe you know where I live.  Had you really wanted to talk to me, you could have.”

Before Steffen had a chance to respond, a voice from her very distant past made her jump.

“Maisie Carrington, it has been a long time.”

Maisie turned around in shock.  She had not seen or heard form Gerhard von Siebenthal since the day he broke her heart back at the Sorbonne six years ago.  He had changed a little, he definitely looked a lot older.  His sandy brown hair was cropped short but he still wore that arrogant expression.

“Gerhard.  What stone did you crawl out from under?” she said coldly.

“You can’t still be cross with me, Maisie?” he chided.

“To be perfectly honest, I haven’t given you a second thought.”

“Ouch.  You weren’t always this cold.”

“That was before I discovered what a dick you actually were.”

“Don’t I even get a kiss for old time sake?”

“The only thing I’d like to give you is a black eye but as the Vaudois Chief of Police is standing right next to me, I shall refrain on this occasion.”

“Bern is out of my jurisdiction,” Steffen quipped, “so please don’t hold back on my account.”

Gerhard caught her arm as she tried to slip past him. “Can we not at least have a civilised conversation?”

“We could but as I really can’t think of anything civil to say, I’ll pass.” She stalked off.

Steffen was watching the exchange with great interest.  His path had crossed a few times with Von Siebenthal  and Maisie was right, he was a complete dick. But he had not seen this side to Maisie before, the claws were well and truly out.  “I get the distinct feeling that Miss Carrington is rather upset with you.  Did you offend her?”

“I guess she is still a little pissed at me for dumping her.  It was almost six years ago, so I would have thought she might have mellowed.”

“Was it a long relationship?”

“Long enough,” Gerhard grunted.  “You’re not interested in her, are you Grundberg? I wouldn’t think she was your type, having a personality that is.”

“That would be none of your business,” Steffen said sourly.  It irritated him that Maisie had been involved with this idiot. 

Steffen was not having a good evening.  His father was with a tramp young enough to be his daughter, his mother was flaunting her new man, and Maisie was mad at him.  He headed to the bar and picked up a double scotch. 

He saw her at the far end of the bar; she looked really upset.  He risked joining her.  “Looks like your evening is about as good as mine.”

He was shocked to see the sadness in her eyes.  Running in to Von Siebenthal had obviously affected her more than she had let on.  Jealousy flooded through him; he hated the idea of another man with Maisie.

“I need to go,” she muttered.

“We never talked about what happened, Maisie.” His voice had become very soft. 

“I had a law suit against your Department and it got settled. Enough said.”

“You know what I meant,” he growled.

“We had sex, Chief Grundberg.  You weren’t my first one-night stand and you probably won’t be the last. There’s nothing much to talk about.” She threw the last of her champagne back and turned to leave.

He put a restraining hand on her arm.  “Are you sure that’s all it was?”

“Yes, I needed a man and you were there.  I usually prefer the men I sleep with to have a heart, but sometimes we can’t be too choosy.”

He grip on her arm tightened a little.  “I don’t believe Von Siebenthal has a heart and you slept with him plenty.”

Steffen found himself temporarily blinded by the scotch thrown in his face. He released Maisie’s arm to wipe his face with his sleeve.  He watched her stalk out the room. He was tempted to go after her, but perhaps it was wise to let her cool off.  She was seriously pissed at both of them it seemed.

Maisie ran up to her hotel room before bursting into floods of tears.  Tonight had been just dreadful.  Steffen and Gerhard in the same evening was too much to bear.  One had broken her heart and the other, well Steffen still held hers.  She did her best to remove her make-up as the tears flowed freely.  She might have handled Gerhard better had it not been for Steffen standing next to her.  And what’s worse, it seemed like the two of them had been comparing notes.  She wanted to curl up and die.  She truly hated men right about now.