Page 65 of Her Inconvenient Groom (French Conquests 4)

“Whatever it is you aren’t telling me.”

She sighed heavily. “Okay. Are you sitting down?”

Still standing on the balcony, he said, “Nope. Spill anyway.”

“Jen came by the other day,” she said simply.

His ex-fiancée? In addition to constantly calling his phone, she dared to turn up at his home? “What did she want?” he asked sharply.

“You, apparently,” Kim said. “And she had a baby with her that looks like you.”

Chapter 35

In the gray haze of the hospital room, Chantelle heard a sound. The lightest footstep, the kind of sound that made her wonder whether she was dreaming. She turned in its direction, but although her vision was getting better, in the darkness there was only movement, not shape.

Nurses again? she wondered. How many times a day did she need to be weighed and tested and checked and prodded and asked over and over,“Comment allez-vous, madame?”

But something told her it wasn’t a nurse. The nurses came announcing themselves, always cheerful, always peppy, even when she wished they would dial it down a notch. And they usually turned the dimmer up a bit so they could clearly see their instruments of torture while they were looking into her eyes and ears and throat and punching her with tiny holes like a sieve.

If it wasn’t a nurse at this hour, who could it be?

Murderer,Chantelle thought. The person who had tried and failed to kill her had returned to finish the job. And if so, how would he have made it past the guard placed at her door?

She didn’t know if it was cold fear or her sluggish, reluctant limbs that made it hard for her to grasp the call button, but as she felt frantically around for it, it seemed to elude her grasp. She opened her mouth to scream instead. Surely, that would be enough to make everyone come running.

“Don’t,” said the voice, mere feet from her bed. “Please, Chantelle.”

“Dustin!” she croaked through a mouth that was Sahara-dry. She peered at the silhouette in the darkness as it loomed into view. “Is that you?”

“It is.” He was far closer now, right next to her. She could feel his warmth. His shape was clearer, his face looming through the dense fog. “Please don’t scream.”

Scream? For joy, maybe. He was free, out of jail. Here, with her. Her relief was palpable. “I wouldn’t. I never would.”

He was very close to her now, but made no attempt to touch her.

“How? Why are you here? I thought you weren’t allowed to have contact with me. The policemen said—”

“I know. I waited until it was late enough and slipped in.” He chuckled softly. “I even had to sneak off the estate.”

“You’re back home?”

“I didn’t think that would be wise. I’m staying with Alex and Liam. I ran away to see you. Although I guess by now they know that, considering how good their security system is.”

“You ran away to be here,” she repeated contemplatively.

“Yes. But I’m not here to harm you. I’d never hurt you. I didn’t before, and I wouldn’t now—”

“I know,” she asserted simply.

“You know?” He sounded incredulous.

She tried her best to make out his features, and then begged him, “Come closer, so I can see you.”

His hand reached out to tap the desk lamp on the side table, creating a soft pool of bluish white light that embraced them both. And now she could see him. His face was taut and haggard, stubble more pronounced than she remembered. Eyes haunted and dark. She felt deep anguish at the thought of what he must have suffered, locked away like that.

She wanted nothing more than to throw herself into his arms, allow him to enfold her, but she had no idea how he felt. The last time she’d seen him, things had gone awry and the time before that, he’d been leaving. Leaving her and their baby for his old life back in the States.

So why would she think he’d want to hold her?

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