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I might as well have been talking to the walls since he exits the room without even a glance back. I fall back on the bed. I don’t know how I can possibly help him. No matter what Lindy thinks he makes his wish of wanting absolutely nothing to do with me pretty blatant. I know it will be time for me to leave soon, but even imagining going back to my old life is impossible. It is almost as if I was a different person then and I cannot walk into her life. It would be too boring. Too empty. I think of my mother and feel sad for her. If only there was a way for me to have Brand and my family in my life. Of course, that would never happen, not when he hates my family so strongly.
Pierre arrives an hour later while I am eating my breakfast of yogurt and fruit in the kitchen. The truth is I’m barely even tasting any of it.
“Bonjour,” he says to me and his bright eyes draws a smile out of me.
“Bonjour,” I greet listlessly.
“All is well?” he asks, an eyebrow cocked.
“Yeah.”
He doesn’t seem to believe me and presses on. “Was the poison used on the wrong someone?”
I look up. “What?”
He nudges his chin over to my neck and gives me a sly smile. Shit. I immediately jump to my feet. While he laughs I hurry around the kitchen looking for a mirror till Pierre pulls one out of a drawer and hands it to me.
I snatch the intricate brass frame from him and peer into it. A red hickey is evident for the world to see, and I feel myself turning a bright shade of pink. Pierre comes over with a slice of cheese and takes the seat at the table.
“So,” he says, “if poison not work we go to the next strategy. Make him jealous.”
The idea already sounds mighty ridiculous to me. Even the thought of Brand being jealous of me sounds like a fantasy. He’ll probably find it very amusing to think that anyone could imagine he would be jealous of my activities.
“Find a good-looking man,” Pierre is saying. “Seduce with him just a bit, and let your ... friend find the two of you in flagrante delicto.”
“Isn’t that a rather dangerous strategy? Couldn’t it lead to violence?”
He shrugs. “I’ll take the risk.”
I grin. “Are you proposing to put yourself forward as the good-looking man?”
"Yes, I can help you. Tonight, I serve at a new bakery’s open soirée. Come with me, look beautiful, and have a bit of fun. When you come home your friend will be hot for you.”
I think about how easily I could run away from Brand, but incredibly there is not a single cell in my body that wants to leave him. I also realize that Pierre has no idea how dangerous what he is suggesting is. Brand is not a man to be played with. If he thinks Pierre is helping me to escape there could be hell to pay for him.
“You might get in trouble!” I say mildly to him.
“What trouble?”
“Forget it. Too dangerous.”
He rises to his feet in disappointment. “You’re … how do you say it in English, cluck, cluck, ah yes! chicken." He sits back down and looks at me with a smug expression.
“I’m not afraid to go,” I say quietly.
“Then come with me to the soirée. Push him just a little, see what happens?”
More than ever I am certain that Pierre is the devil because how in the hell can I say no to such a possibility? Anyway, judging from Brand’s past behavior he won’t come back until well past midnight, and as long as I’m back well before that I should be fine.
“I need to be back by ten o’clock though.”
Pierre’s grin is wide. “No problem.”
“I mean it.”
He lifts one shoulder and lets it drop. “By eight o’clock the whole area is dead anyway.”
At 5.00 p.m. sharp, I am dressed warmly and ready to go. Pierre has just finished up cleaning the living room so he appears at the back door to put on his coat. “You ready?” he asks.
I nod.
“Those men who wait outside. Are they … guards?”
I nod. “Yeah. We don’t have to go, you know.”
He grins, his eyes full of mischief. “So we will exit out of the cellar window. No one is there.” He opens a rickety door by the larder and we go down into a dark cold cellar. The air smells of fruit and alcohol. Using the light from his phone, we climb out of the window.
“Wait here,” he orders, a thrill of excitement in his voice.
I hear his rusty little Renault start and drive away. The air is freezing cold and just as I start to wonder if he has just played a little joke on me, he appears at the side of the house.
“Let us go,” he says.
He leads me past the pool, and down a dark little path until we emerge onto the main road. Further down I see his red Renault parked in the bushes. We climb into his car and both of us start laughing. Our noses are running and our lips are so frozen we can barely laugh, but it is exciting to think we just evaded Brand’s men. I squash away the prick of guilt at the kind of trouble they would be in if Brand found out by telling myself we will be back long before Brand gets back. We drive down to what appears to be a small town.
Soon we arrive at the bakery having its opening. A small crowd of people are gathered inside. We get in and I find that it also doubles up as a stunning cafe. A carousel of all of their delicacies running through the middle of the room. At the sight of pastries and whipped cream, Brand and all my troubles are immediately forgotten.
“Have fun,” Pierre says to me and I do not need to be reminded. “I will be in the back working. Come find me if you need me.” I nod excitedly to him and grab a Mascarpone and Raspberry Rose Cream Choux Pastry. It is generously filled with cream patisserie, but my eyes catch yet another crafted exactly in the form of a Rubik’s cube.
I go after it shamelessly.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Brand
Mark is speaking as we walk into the house, so it takes me a few minutes to notice that something is wrong. I stop suddenly and look around, my eyes narrowing. Mark stops speaking and glances around too.
“I’ll go check,” he says as he begins to lightly run up the stairs.
I head into the living room. As I suspected there is no one here.
“She’s not up there either,” Mark announces, before immediately backing away. “I’ll ask the guards,” he says, before he runs out of the house. I wait. Lowering my head, I shut my eyes at the sudden surge of anger that shoots through my body.
A few minutes later Mark returns through the door with an update. “They’re searching the property. We’ll find her, Boss,” he tries to reassure me, but I am past listening.
“Get me everyone on duty,” I order and he hurries off. A few minutes later, all six men file in. My call to Antoine, the house’s owner connects in that moment.
“Is there an alternate way out of your home?” I ask him.
H
e is silent for a few moments. “Why?”
I understand his caution. We’re both programmed to be wary of even the closest of acquaintances. “My girl is gone.”
“There is,” he immediately confirms. “Through the cellar, but only Pierre has the key.”
The boy ...
Shit! That little wet-behind the ears kid, but it makes perfect sense. He has been Liliana’s companion in the house. It would have been so easy for her to manipulate him. I think of her winding her arms around his thin wiry frame, offering her body to him, opening her white thighs, and my blood boils.
“I’ll call you back,” I say to him and end the call.
I quickly place another call to the boy, but there is no response.
Before I can stop myself my hand has flung the phone towards the wall, but it hits one of the men squarely in the head and shatters into pieces. Blood trickles down his face. I watch as he struggles to keep his balance, his hand over his head.
Apart from him, the rest remain at attention as I fight to control my breathing; I am heaving with such uncontrollable fury I want to kill someone.
“Find her,” I growl, and even before I bend down to pick up my handgun, the room has emptied.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Liliana
Thirty minutes later I start to worry. I have stuffed myself with more sweets than I care to recall, but my mouth is bitter with fear. I shouldn’t have come and certainly not with Pierre. What the hell was I thinking? Brand is not a man to be trifled with.
If I am going to disappear then it better be all the way back to England in search of my dad, who knows exactly how to protect himself, otherwise this potentially puts a lot of people in trouble. I go to find Pierre, and catch sight of him through the kitchen door washing dishes. The decision to go in is taken away from me when one of the uniformed bakers points me to the sign at the door that says only employees allowed.
