Heirs Book Two: American Lady (8 page)

Nikki closed her eyes painfully. Charley
sounded so happy. “Darling, I don’t want to sound like a wet
blanket, but you hardly know the man. Are you sure you should be
rushing into marriage?”

“I know it sounds crazy, mom. But it feels
as though we’ve known each other forever. I think it’s because
we’re both Virgos and our birthdays are less than two weeks apart.
It’s like we have this natural affinity.”

The world dipped dizzily before Nikki’s eyes
and a chasm opened at her feet. “What did you say about
birthdays?”

“Maix is twenty-eight on September 8.
Luckily he’s older than me so I won’t be marrying a toyboy!” she
gurgled.

Nikki dropped her head to her knees to ward
off dizziness, the receiver slippery in her suddenly damp hands. It
was as though someone had pushed her head underwater and the world
receded while thoughts pounded in her head. Her child and Leigh’s
child were born only twelve days apart! Could that possibly mean…?
No! It was just a terrifying coincidence!

“Mom? Are you there? This line is terrible!
I keep losing you. What did you say? Mom?”

Nikki gasped in some air to steady her
swimming head. “Have you told Maix’s parents? What do they think?”
Her voice sounded tinny and mechanical in her ears, over the blood
thrumming against her eardrums. How had Leigh allowed this
relationship to happen right under her own roof?

“Not yet. You’re the first one to know. I
was just busting to tell someone and you’re the one person I know
who will keep it secret. Can you imagine if Janie found out? She’d
unzip her lips faster than your models change clothes on the
runway,” she laughed.

I have to talk to Leigh, Nikki thought as
Charley’s words burbled down the line. What if their births weren’t
a coincidence? We can’t risk this relationship going any
further!

“Charley, promise me you won’t even think
about announcing an engagement until after July,” Nikki broke into
Charley’s happy chatter. “You know I’m in the midst of making plans
for my engagement with Lorenzo. Please promise me, you won’t say
anything until after that.” Nikki desperately tried to buy time,
just as Paddy had.

“I’m sorry, I should have thought about
that.” Charley sounded contrite. “I know you have a lot to do. But
won’t it be exciting planning two weddings? Maixent and I want to
get married as soon as we can.”

Nikki’s faintness returned. “When are you
leaving St Benezet?”

“I want to stay an extra week, even though
Maix says I interfere with his concentration and he has official
engagements and work that he can’t get out of.” She giggled again,
the happy sound as irritating as a stone in Nikki’s designer shoes.
“So I’ll be back on Saturday week. See you then! Love you,
mom.”

Nikki crashed the receiver so hard she was
in danger of cracking its cradle. She closed her eyes and rubbed
her throbbing forehead. Her world was unraveling like a wrap dress
about to expose her ugly secret. It just wasn’t fair that nearly
thirty years later a one night stand had come back to haunt her
with such damning repercussions. In a fit of pique at her husband
Alex she had let her passion lead her morals astray with the
heart-revving Jean-Luc Dumont. Jean-Luc Dumont. Even the memory of
that passionate night was capable of making her heart flutter.

When Leigh had crashed into the hotel room
and found her lover with Nikki, her raging jealousy and fury had
created a devastating aftermath leading to them secretly dumping
Jean-Luc’s almost certain corpse with an unknown French doctor.
Their friendship had been another fatality of that night.

Nikki closed her eyes, taking deep breaths
to steady her nerves, but the memories kept rolling forward – the
searing urgency of Leigh’s voice, the grip of her fingers holding
her in place while she made Nikki swear to keep their secret.

* * *

“We must promise each other that we will
never breathe a word of what happened tonight to anyone. Not even
to your confessor, Nikki. Not until your dying day. Promise?”
Leigh’s fingers crushed hers.

Why had she promised? She was terrified,
shivering like a hairless cat in the wintery Paris night. What
would Alex say if he knew the truth? Would he stand by her? She had
wanted to punish Alex for his infidelities, but instead she was the
one who would suffer the backlash if the truth were known. Even if
Alex cared enough to support her, Paddy would never let him ruin
his political career. And she could too easily envision the distain
on her own father’s face. The freezing Paris wind was nothing
compared to how bleak her life would be once they knew.

Her shivering grew frantic and a mantra
throbbed in her head. No one must ever find out. No one must ever
find out.

So she vowed to keep their secret.

Dumbly, she had followed Leigh’s orders to
scrub the hotel room carpet of the few drops of incriminating
blood, luckily melding into the woven pattern. They had hunted over
every inch of the room to track down the bullet, Leigh refusing to
leave until that last piece of evidence was found, lodged in the
back of an upholstered Louis XIV chair.

Even as Leigh was leaving, her eyes had
bored into Nikki. “Remember your promise,” she hissed. Nikki closed
the door on her, shutting her out of her life forever.

Exhausted both emotionally and physically,
Nikki dropped almost comatose into bed, about an hour before
sunrise. She had one more day in Paris before catching the steamer
across the Atlantic. At mid-morning, which seemed like no more than
minutes since she had closed her eyes, frantic knocking finally
penetrated her fog-deadened sleep. What now? Was it Leigh? Was it
the police?

Heart hammering guiltily, she cracked the
door open, leaving the chain in place. The last time she had opened
the door it had been to Jean-Luc and that had lead to her worst
nightmare. Then she had hoped to see Alex. When she actually saw
her husband standing before her, she had to rub her eyes to be sure
she wasn’t hallucinating in her tiredness.

Wearing a huge political campaign grin, he
stood in front of the door with his arms open in invitation, an
enormous bouquet of red roses in his right hand.

“Wake up sleepyhead. It’s nearly ten am. Are
you going to let me in?”

Self-consciously, Nikki had opened the door,
very aware that she was wearing the negligee that she had worn with
Jean-Luc and which she had just scooped on as the closest garment
to hand before falling into bed.

“Not quite the reaction I was expecting.”
The grin had been replaced with a puzzled frown. “Are you still mad
at me for not attending your friend’s wedding?”

Momentarily, Nikki wished the autocratic
Leigh was still around to take charge of the situation. Desperately
she tried to round up some coherent thoughts to make a sentence as
she stared blankly at Alex, who handed her the bouquet. He moved
easily into the room, filling it with his personality. Alex removed
his homburg and overcoat, dropping them on the nearest armchair
along with the small portmanteau he had brought with him.

He was now facing her with the window behind
him. “Happy to see me, at least?” She had forgotten to draw the
curtains last night and the morning light fanned out around him,
leaving his features in darkness so she couldn’t read his
expression.

With a heroic effort she pulled herself
together enough to smile at him. “Of course. I’m just stunned to
see you. What are you doing in Paris? I thought the Suez crisis
meant you couldn’t possibly visit Francophile countries at this
time?” She held the roses in front of her like a shield, lowering
her eyes and burying her nose in their sweet, heady buds to avoid
eye contact.

“Eisenhower managed to sort out the crisis
and both the English and French are withdrawing their troops as we
speak. The mess will be yesterday’s news by the time McAllister and
I take office next month.”

He moved toward her and she stepped back
awkwardly, keeping herself out of reach. “Nikki, honeybun, I’ve
been feeling bad about making you cancel your plans for your
friend’s wedding. I know it meant a lot to you. I wanted to make it
up to you. I spoke to Paddy and he suggested I book a TransAtlantic
flight on Pan Am from Idlewild Airport to surprise you. I’m coming
home with you on the
SS Constitution
tomorrow.”

The campaign-winning smile was back in place
and he was obviously expecting her response to be an enthusiastic
launch into his arms. But niggling in her mind was the newspaper
clipping Leigh had sent of Alex dining tete-a-tete with his mystery
blond. Cynically, she couldn’t help speculating if this was merely
a stunt, admittedly a highly expensive one given the cost of deluxe
plane tickets, coordinated by Paddy to dampen rumors of Alex’s
extramarital activities. Skeptical about his motives, she wondered
if he had teed up a photo opportunity of them as a loving couple
embarking on their trip home.

Before she could blurt out any
recriminations, loud knocks rapped on the door between her suite
and Felicity Cadwallader’s. Both Nikki and Alex flinched.

“Miss Nikki? Miss Nikki, are you awake? I
hear voices.”

Nikki fled towards the bathroom, thrusting
the roses back into Alex’s arms as she slammed the door, leaving
him to deal with the secretary-cum-chaperone whom he had insisted
travel with her on this trip.

Quickly she turned the key in the lock and
leant back against the door, her chest rising and falling in rapid
hyperventilation as her nerves skyrocketed in panic. Pure terror
streamlined through her veins and for several minutes she simply
stood quaking against the door. As the panic attack ebbed, so did
her strength and she sank onto the cold tile floor, leaning forward
to rest her forehead against the side of the bathtub. Her heartbeat
was slowing, but her mind remained numb, no coherent plan forming
to fill the void.

Last night she had wanted Alex to appear.
This morning he was the last person she wished to see. How was she
going to convince him that she was the same woman who had left New
York less than six weeks ago?

Unbidden, the thought of Leigh popped into
the blank void. What would Leigh do? She would return to her
husband, behaving as though she had not a care in the world. Yes!
That’s exactly what Leigh was doing right now. That’s exactly what
Leigh would tell her to do right now. Pull yourself together,
Devereaux! Room inspection in five! She remembered Leigh’s voice
scolding her at boarding school. Pull yourself together, Devereaux!
Face Alex and act normal!

She heaved herself to her feet.

“Nikki, are you okay?” Alex’s voice sounded
more impatient than concerned.

“Just freshening up!” she called, clinging
to the side of the tub.

Looking down at herself she noticed a smear
of red on the hem of her negligee. Was that blood? Suddenly she was
overwhelmed by the stink of blood and the visceral, musky scent of
sex that she thought she could detect on her body. Hastily she
stripped off the negligee and stepped into the bathtub, using the
handheld nozzle to wash herself down, concentrating on scrubbing
between her legs as if she could remove Jean-Luc’s imprint.

Turning off the water she looked around for
a towel. The only one surviving the night’s activities was a
miniscule hand towel that did a barely adequate job. There was
still a bathrobe minus its belt hanging from a hook on the wall,
which she wrapped around herself, feeling like a polar bear who’d
discovered a zipper exposing what lay under its fur jacket. She
would have to venture back into the bedroom to find some clothes.
Time to face Alex.

He was waiting for her as she re-entered the
bedroom. He had removed his blue flannel suit jacket and slung it
over the Louis XIV chair near the window, along with his silk tie
and his black wingtip shoes and was reclining on the bed, his
suited legs crossed, exposing blue argyle socks, and his arms, in
the less than crisp white shirt, folded under his head. He was
lying on top of the sheets she had lain in with Jean-Luc.

Keeping maximum distance between them, she
skirted around the room towards the wardrobe. Alex rose from the
bed. She felt his eyes pin her to a stop, her heartbeat and
breathing accelerating in alarm as he approached.

“Come here, baby, I’ve missed you.” His arms
enclosed her, pulling her towards his chest. She gagged, breathing
in stale smoke from his clothes.

“I’ve been cooped up for twenty-four hours
in a flying sardine can with nothing to do except smoke and drink
and eat and think about screwing you.” His mouth descended on hers,
forcing her head into the crook of his arm where she couldn’t
resist responding to his demanding, dominating tongue. Feeling
slightly sick at her body’s intense reaction, she kept her eyes
closed as Alex raised his head to look appraisingly at her. Could
he see the passionate torrent, undammed by Jean-Luc’s torrid
lovemaking, that now thrummed insistently through her body, craving
release?

Holding her with one arm, he used the other
hand to flick her bathrobe open, revealing her tight, boyish
breasts and the flattest of taut stomachs. He twirled an enticingly
raised nipple, then placed his palm flat against her chest and
dragged it slowly down until it rested on her still damp patch of
black curls. His fingers curved downwards and he jabbed two fingers
inside her. She gasped and her eyes flew open.

“Let’s do this, Nikki. Paddy says it’s time
we started baby-making. Nothing is going to raise my profile more
as VP than to become a daddy while I’m in office.” His undulating
fingers were still moving tantalizingly inside her. Unwillingly,
her breath and heartbeat quickened as exquisite sensations
fireworked through her body.

“Alex, stop. We can’t do this,” she gasped,
rebelling at the thought of making love to Alex in the same bed
that had only recently been vacated by Jean-Luc. Her own intense
desires for both men confused her. She needed time to grasp
everything that had happened overnight, to absorb these new
sensations that her body was proving itself capable of. On top of
all that, her mind was tormented with the question of whether or
not she still loved Alex.