To Deceive Is To Love (Romantic suspense) (29 page)

Paul had managed to free himself and was trying to drag Chantelle with him.

But she was more concerned for the man still lying spread-eagled on the floor than her own life.

Abdul delivered another vicious attack, this time with his booted foot straight into David’s rib cage, bringing him out of his dazed state with an agonizing groan. It was obvious Abdul wanted him conscious when he delivered his final blow. He aimed the nozzle of the gun now into David’s forehead as he leaned over the body. “This is for Bakir.”

At the same time as Chat darted out from his hidden position with a piercing wail, Chantelle tore herself out of Paul's grasp and flung herself toward David. The sound of a gun releasing its load sounded in her ears. An explosion and imagery of blood red was all she remembered before numbness took hold and the horror faded.

****

“We’ve had to give her quite a strong sedative, so it’s best she stays here overnight.”

“Doctor, does she know what happened?”

“No, but then neither do I. When she first came around, she was quite hysterical and unable to comprehend what was being said to her.”

She had saved his life, that was what had happened. A marksman had managed to creep into the apartment via a window in the bathroom. The cat had spotted him first and in the split second that Abdul had hesitated in pulling the trigger, his attention first on the cat and then Chantelle, the diversion had allowed the marksman a clear shot of his target. The marksman’s bullet delivered instantaneous death to Abdul.

“So, she doesn’t even know I’m alive?”

“No. I suggest you tell her yourself as soon as she wakes since you have adjoining beds.” It was obvious by his unsympathetic, brusque manner that he wasn’t happy at being called back to the hospital. Attending a man with broken ribs and a cracked jaw and a woman in a deep state of shock in a private room and being told to ask no questions and file no reports was not part of his profession.

David waited for him to leave and then brushed back a stray strand of Chantelle’s hair from her face. She looked so beautiful and innocent that he hated himself for making her part of his ugly world. She had been a witness to violence and murder and subjected to more terror than most experienced in a lifetime. And he was responsible. He would be doing them both a favor if he walked out of here and got out of her life forever.

“Have you tried to get in touch with her?” Tony questioned David.

The two of them were seated in a restaurant on the north bank of the River Thames. The clientele was mostly stockbrokers, bankers and investors. The atmosphere and expensive surroundings didn’t attract the locals or tourists.

David hadn’t worn a suit for a long time and felt uncomfortable in it. Appearance wise, he looked the part Tony wanted: a debonair ex-RAF Lieutenant with a carefully manufactured and lucrative past. Earlier, they had been a party of four. The other two men were investors willing to provide the necessary extra financing and contacts for the executive chartered jet business they were about to set up.

Swirling the brandy around in his glass, David leaned back in the chair and loosened his tie. He stared out the window as if mesmerized by the rippling turquoise waters of the Thames, a deep sadness within. He should have been feeling the opposite now that the deal had been sealed. It was something he had plans of doing once in Canada, only that would have been small cargo flights.

Staying in England hadn’t been an option, but now that Hendersson was gone and David’s own past with him, he had no reason to run and hide. The C.T.A.U. would leave him alone. His files had been destroyed. Hendersson was too big an embarrassment; they wanted the whole mess buried.

As for the mercenary who went by the name Falcon, he was buried somewhere in the mountainous area of Auvergne in France near the wreckage of his plane. Pascal was a loyal and trusting friend, one who had also gotten out of the game and was now a fisherman with his own trawler, thanks to some precious gems coming his way.

“Did you hear the question or are you ignoring me like the other times I tried broaching the subject?” Tony had just ordered himself another brandy. “David, we should be feeling on top of the world. Instead, I look across at a man whose heart is elsewhere. You told her you loved her, I take it.” Tony sipped his brandy, his eyes lowering as if expecting a backlash.

David shook his head with exasperation. This time, his friend was not about to quit. He turned to look at Tony. “Yes, I told her. I think it was in between nursing me from having a bullet slice through my thigh right after she killed a man to when she was held hostage with a gun to her face.” He took a small swallow of his brandy and returned to staring out at the cold, oppressive waters. “I think she would rather forget, don’t you?”

“Have you given her the chance to make that decision?” When David didn’t reply, Tony carried on, “No, I didn’t think so. Go and see her. Tell her how you feel.”

“It’s over. Just forget it. I have,” David snapped back, trying to sound dismissive when all he could think about was her.

She haunted him day and night and if he wasn’t careful, he would end up just like his father, unable to let go. At least it had made him understand his mother’s torment now. You couldn’t put a person through hell and then expect them to carry on loving you no matter what. The same way you couldn’t blame that person for no longer wanting to live a lie and ruining her own life in the process. Danny was wrong; he could remember the rows and unhappiness caused by the change in their father after he came back from a posting abroad. As for his father taking his own life, no one was to blame except life itself.

As if reading his mind, Tony tried a different tactic. “You’ve made peace with Danny and your mother. Those are the actions of a reformed man, one who’s ready to settle down and enjoy what life can offer. But you need someone to share it with.”

David couldn’t help smiling at Tony’s philosophy. It had been surprisingly easy with Danny. He’d asked both Danny and his mother to meet him at his mother’s house. Danny had first thought David was there to cause trouble. Instead, David found himself telling them both the whole story of his double life.

Now that it was over, he understood that not everything was what it appeared on the surface. He never told either of them that their father had taken his own life. What would be the point? Danny and his mother had suffered enough hurt.

David’s dark thoughts returned. How similar he could be to his father, both screwing up their own lives and the ones around them. He downed his drink.

“It’s far from over and you know it. I want this partnership to work, but until you sort out your personal life, it won’t. You were never one to take the coward’s way out. Fight for what you want,” Tony said. Calling the waiter over, he requested the bill.

“She’s gone back to France. I think the message is pretty clear, don’t you?” Calling the waiter back, he ordered another brandy.

“Well, how long did you expect her to wait around to hear from you? It’s been three weeks. I know you both decided to give each other some space and time, but days, not weeks.”

Tony was right; he knew that. How many times had he picked up the phone and dialed her number only to cut the line dead before a connection was made? What was he afraid of? Hearing that she no longer felt the same way about him? That her statement that it was over when she fled Tony’s house still stood? When finally he had gone to her flat last week with a need to know either way, the For Sale sign outside had not come as too great a surprise. Hearing that she had already left the premises had.

“I met Paul again,” David suddenly said, a small self-derisive smile appearing. He now knew why Chantelle had found it so funny when he’d questioned her about the relationship she had with Paul. An introduction to Paul’s new live-in partner Greg made him realize he had misread Paul’s behavior completely. He was as Chantelle said, a very good friend.

Tony was looking at him, waiting for more to follow.

“As I was saying, I met Paul, the guy in the flat below and he told me she had gone to her mother’s place in France. He even gave me the address.” David didn’t reveal that Paul had also said encouraging words to the effect that Chat hadn’t joined her yet, so he suspected she was hesitating over permanent residency. “What if she doesn’t want to give me another chance?” David finally asked Tony, admitting what he feared most.

“You deal with it instead of wallowing in the kind of self-pity that drove your father over the brink.” Signing the credit slip the waiter brought, Tony waited as David raised the glass of brandy to his lips and then stood up. “One final word. Until you get yourself sorted out, this partnership is on hold. I’ve seen you in self-destruct mode before, remember.”

David slammed his palm down on the table and glared up at Tony, the sudden action causing several diners to cast curious glances in their direction. “You mean this, don’t you?” He held up the glass again. “I’m not my father.”

“Prove it.”

****

The morning sun felt warm against her cheek, despite it being November. This was the south of France. Chantelle smiled to herself as she rocked to and fro in the swing hammock, causing Ming to sink her claws further into Chantelle’s knees. She missed Chat, but bringing him over would mean she was in France to stay and at the moment, she was undecided about what she wanted career wise, let alone where she planned to live.

Picking up the book lying face down beside her, she tried to concentrate on the words. She hadn’t reached the second line before the hum of a light aircraft overhead caught her attention. Wistfully, she stared up at it, squinting against the sun as she tried to determine what kind of plane it was. How she wished to be its pilot in her own very private world up there, staring down at the earth’s surface and only seeing its beauty.

An unhappy sigh escaped. Would she ever feel that pleasure again without someone special to share it with? She felt angry with herself for thinking this way. She had to get out and find herself a teaching job, anything to snap her out of this melancholy self-pity. She had to move on with her life, not live in the past.

David was all she could think about, but he hadn’t been in contact. Danny had rung her out of the blue two days ago, apologizing profusely over his behavior in the past. He’d told her how he had been messed up over his brother and how it had all been sorted out between them.

He had ended the conversation with the most surprising announcement of all. Tracey was his wing-walker now and they were dating again. “Doubt it will last,” he had laughed, “She’s even crazier than me.”

“Chantelle, I’m making myself a coffee. Would you like one?”

Her thoughts interrupted, she smiled back at her mother. “Yes please.”

In the time she’d been here, her mother had never questioned her too deeply about the personal side of the relationship with the man she saw as bringing the terror into their lives. Chantelle tried to hide from her mother the sadness she was feeling. The tears came at night, alone in her bed when she thought no one could hear. Still, she suspected her mother knew.

Bringing out two mugs of coffee, her mother handed Chantelle one. She sat on the steps of the veranda, her back to Chantelle as she looked out at the covered swimming pool. “You’re still in love with him.” It was a statement, not a question.

“Yes, I suppose I am,” Chantelle answered without even having to think about it.

“Then why are you here?”

“Because we can’t always have what we want. Surely you of all people should know that. Otherwise why were you never married to my father?”

“I was stubborn and independent minded, thought it was too conventional to marry a man I loved.”

Chantelle placed her book down and swung her legs off the hammock. “But you went to England to be with him.”

“I went to England for independence and freedom from what my family wanted for me. By the time I found out I was pregnant with you, your father and I had already parted. I didn’t tell him until several years later. By then, he had married and had a family of his own. The passion we felt was as strong as in the beginning, but it was too late.”

“You still loved him?”

“Oh, yes, that kind of love doesn’t happen twice in a lifetime. If you let it pass you by, you end up with second rate and a lifetime of regrets. That’s why I never married anyone else. I still had your father; admittedly, I did have to share him. He was an honorable man and would not abandon his wife and children. That’s why I loved him so.”

Chantelle couldn’t hide the upset her mother’s words caused. For years, she had felt her mother had sacrificed her life for the love of a man who couldn’t give himself fully to her, at times blaming and resenting her father. Now she realized her mother had been lucky in regaining what she had nearly forsaken forever. Love. “Why are you telling me this now?”

“Because I want you to be happy.” She turned and faced her daughter. “Go back and tell him how you feel. Don’t repeat my mistake.”

The door chimes sounding broke the silence between them. Rising up, her mother disappeared back into the villa.

Chantelle gave a small sigh of relief. It was different between David and her. How could she bare her soul to a man who had already told her what she wanted he wasn’t capable of giving?

“There’s someone here to see you, Chantelle. I will leave the two of you alone.”

Chantelle looked up. He was in a dark blue suit, white shirt and tie. His ebony hair was layered fashionably and his face was clean shaven. He looked incredibly handsome and surprisingly nervous.

“Hello, Chantelle.”

“David, what are you doing here and dressed like that?” She couldn’t help the words, nor could she think of anything else to say.

“I was thinking of a tuxedo and a box of chocolates tucked under my arm, but I thought you might not feel I was being serious and believe me, I am deadly serious.” He looked around as if checking no one was listening in and then continued, “Three hours ago, I was seated in a restaurant in London with Tony discussing our new venture together. Our own chartered airline, freight and passengers to anywhere in Europe with backers willing to support us all the way and do you know what? None of it meant anything without the thought of having you by my side.”

“David, you’re making me nervous, wringing your hands together and gaze darting everywhere as if you’re expecting someone to pop out the bushes.”