The Art of Retaliation Read online

  “You look stunning, Mara. Every man can’t resist looking at you. Do you like the dress I bought for you?” he whispered in her ear nodding to a passing guest.

  “Yes of course I do,” she gushed and then frowned and stiffened her tone a little. “But then you have forced me to wear it. I’m glad that you approve,” she said haughtily.

  He laughed to cover his hurt at the jibe.

  “I would love to see you dance but you must rest your ankle. I don’t want to see you on your feet too much,” he told her leading her onto the middle of the chess board floor that covered the grand hall used for the ball room.

  Before she could object to his firm instruction he led her to a dark green velvet carver chair positioned around one of the tables covered in white damask in the ballroom dressed in pretty white flowers and green foliage. He sat next to her and took two glasses of champagne from the Butler. His full attention was hers alone.

  The billionaire was anxious to make sure his captive’s every need was taken care of. Was she comfortable? Did she need anything for the pain in her ankle after straining it on the stairs? He would not leave her alone, sitting as though without a partner. Stephane refused to dance with the elegant society women his mother paraded past him, indulging in the only the barest niceties with them for the sake of appearance and etiquette.

  They sat in silence for a short while watching the small orchestra on the stage and then Mara spoke. She made conversation discussing the room, asking details of its history. He smiled Mara was a typical English woman unable to bear silence needing to fill it with conversation to stop herself feeling awkward.

  “The traditional summer ball has been going for centuries. It was started by the lady over the fireplace in your room,” he answered.

  ‘The Countess of Dufresne?’

  “Yes. She met her lovers in your room. The rumour is that she used to select two, sometimes three young men and take them to her chamber whilst the other guests were still dancing and bedded all three at once,” he told Mara with a grin.

  Mara’s eyes widened and she was about to speak when the Butler cut in on them.

  “I am sorry to interrupt again but your important business client has arrived and is becoming impatient.”

  Stephane glanced at the entrance over Mara’s shoulder for confirmation.

  “Yes I will be over in a minute, thank you.”

  “I’m sorry, Mara but I will have to cut our conversation short. I won’t be long. In the meantime I want you to rest and I don’t want to see you dancing, however much it is a shame not to see you enjoying yourself.”

  “I think I will be the judge of whether I am fit enough to dance,” she said obediently sitting on one of the cushioned seats.

  The billionaire shook his head.

  “Do as you are told, Mara,” he warned and left.

  Chapter Eight

  Mara took another glass of champagne from the tray and watched Maxine and the other couples elegantly dancing to a waltz in front of her. Her mind drifted back to happier times, a time when she was sure of Ryan’s love, to a New Years Eve ball where he had proposed.

  “Penny for them.”

  Mara looked up towards the source of the rich voice to find a handsome Arabian Englishman bending over her.

  “May I sit down,” he asked without hesitation. “Have you been sitting here alone? I can’t bear to see a beautiful woman on her own. Abdul Hasseem.”

  He held out his hand. With a smile Mara reciprocated but found hr hand turned over and brushed with a kiss. Her smile widened.

  “Yes I know exactly who you are. Mara Logan.”

  So Stephane Garreau knew Abdul Hasseem, the much revered and feared entrepreneur in the business world and her nemesis. The man who had physically threatened her safety and killed the witness she had convinced to come forward to help her case when a Crown Prosecutor.

  “Finally we meet Ms Logan and in the strangest of places,’ he smiled glancing out at the couples dancing. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

  “I do hope it was all good but I doubt it,” she told him playing the game a little further feeling her heat beat fast.

  “On the contrary you are quite a formidable opponent and quite relentless.”

  “When I want something I usually get it,” she challenged taking another sip of champagne.

  She gave him a sweet smile and observed a crinkle in the corners of his mouth that were trying hard to maintain the fixed smile.

  “Really you sound very confident for a woman who is being held hostage and isn’t in a position to do anything.”

  It was his turn to triumph and watch the light across her features fade.

  “How do you know about that?”

  “I make it my business to know everything about my enemies and I’ve been tracking your movements since you left London. It is a shame you haven’t been able to meet up with Raymond Matisse yet and I would like to keep it that way. You won’t win. So you might as well give up trying to put me behind bars. That, I assure you, pretty lady will never happen.”

  “Nothing is going to stop me,’ she was on the verge of loosing her cool and took a deep breath to maintain her equilibrium. “Both Raymond Matisse and myself have evidence about your money laundering and I willnot rest until you are brought to justice over the murder. Not even your break in at my office, the threatening phone-calls and the stalking by your men wills top me.”

  ‘You are laundering money through Matisse with bogus accounts. We have concrete proof and are ready to go to the French police.”

  “You’ll be dead before you get to them, you little bitch,’ he grabbed her wrist and twisted it cruelly in his hand.

  Mara fought her fear to control her breathing. She’d waited too long for everything to fall apart now. She couldn’t help feeling disappointed that Stepahane Garreau associated with the criminal.

  “Face it, you are finished. There are a lot of debts for you to pay back Abdul. You are wanted in five different countries under various names for fraud, money laundering, insider dealing, terrorist funding and that small matter of murder in England. I’ve also been tracking your movements since then and I know every thing about you. I even know about that secret scam you are running regarding that new airline company you’ve started and how you have a partner who is stumping up most of the money . . . Who the hell is the fool who . . .”

  And then it hit her.

  Abdul smiled and turned his head to the crowd to seek out his victim. Mara followed his eyes until they rested on Stephane Garreau innocently chatting with a female guest.

  “No, no you can’t you’ll ruin him,” the sudden instinct to protect Stephane in her own way was primitive and its strength shocked her.

  Mara squirmed to release Abdul’s grip but it only tightened and he pulled her close to him until his face almost touched hers.

  “I know from my sources in this house there appears to be some sort of attraction between you both but if you tell him about this your precious brother will disappear and end up a case of accidental death. One of my men ran into him yesterday, just a little car crash. He was lucky it could have been worse. Drop your pursuit and I may allow you and Raymond Matisse to live.”

  Mara cried out.

  “Leave my brother out of this. If you hurt him . . .”

  “You’ll what? You appear to be trapped on all sides Ms Logan and there isn’t anything you can do. Give it up,” he whispered menacingly brushing his lips against her neck.

  Disgusted she moved her head away. She shook her head violently.

  “You aren’t going to do anything. I’m not going to let you.”

  He pulled her up from the seat.

  “I see you need further persuading. Maybe Alfonse over there can make you see sense.”

  Abdul pulled her around the side of the party out of the French doors leading to the grounds, a man following closely behind him. Out the corner of her eye Mara could see Stephane dancing with a woman, his impor
tant visitor who he had turned around so that he could observe Mara over her shoulder. He appeared alarmed at the tight grip Abdul had on her wrist and immediately let go of the woman to walk hurriedly past her as though she was invisible. He reached out and grabbed Mara’s free hand and tugged her protectively towards him.

  “Abdul what is going on here?”

  Abdul relaxed the tension in his face immediately.

  “Mara and I were just going to dance.”

  “Really that’s not what it looked like.”

  “Yes, we were going to dance,” Mara interrupted giving Abdul a conspiratorial glance. Their fight was private.

  “I don’t believe you both for a moment. Something is going on here,” Stephane wasn’t letting it go.

  “There isn’t. I think Stephane is a little jealous that we were going to dance,” Abdul smiled. “I know when I am beaten. Maybe later, Ms Logan.”

  Abdul let go of her arm and nodding respectively to Stephane before walking off into the grounds.

  The billionaire gripped Mara’s wrist watching Abdul disappear and began to lead her further out onto the terrace to sit her down on one of the stone seats by the moat.

  “What the hell is going on? I have never heard such a ridiculous excuse. Something is going on.”

  He towered over her interrogating her with vigor.

  “I’ve told you nothing. He just got a bit excited. I think he had a little too much to drink and got carried away when I refused to dance with him.”

  “Really I’ve never known Abdul ever be out of control. So why was his bodyguard following you.”

  “I didn’t know that he was,” she lied.

  “Abdul Hasseem is a very dangerous man, Mara. He is used to getting what he wants.”

  “Yes I know. I know exactly what he is capable of in business alone. Makes me wonder why you are in business with him.”

  Stephane ignored her comment as though it was never spoken.

  “I want you to keep away from him.” Then he softened his tone. “Did he frighten you?’ he asked gently.

  “Oh so you care about me. I am touched but it’s a bit late for all that, isn’t it. Men are all the same you act like Neanderthals. He uses physical force and you use words. I am more than capable of looking after myself and will see who I choose,’ she hoped she sounded confident when all she wanted to do was cry and think about how she was going to get out of this mess to help her brother and Stephane.

  Her captor gave her an incredulous look and began cursing in French turning away from her placing his hands untidily in his tuxedo trouser pockets, a habit he appeared to have when he was frustrated or at a loss about what to do. It was endearing but his French cursing was annoying.

  “No don’t do that. Speak to me in English. If you are going to call me at least have the decency to say it in English so I can understand,” her voice was rising and was shaky.

  He ignored her and continued.

  She had to try and think fast or she and others would lose their lives. She suddenly felt alone, very alone. Tears threatened to spill from her eyes as she replayed the scene with Abdul over and over again. Stephane didn’t stop until one of the Maids came out and informed him he was wanted inside.

  “I want you to stay here, Mara. I won’t be long. Stay well away from Abdul. I forbid you to talk to him.”

  Mara straightened her back and tightened her frame on the curved stone seat.

  “I beg your pardon. Did I hear you correctly?’ she said haughtily in a crisp English tone. “You forbid me?” she laughed. It was almost hysterical.

  “Yes I do,” he commanded leaning over her.

  “Who the hell do you think you are? How dare you speak to me like that.”

  She was off her seat heading for the door. He took her arm and guided her back to the seat.

  “It is for your own good. I want you to be safe. You don’t look well again. I will take you to your room when I return. Now sit down until I come back, please.”

  “Who the hell do you think you are,” she snapped shaking his arm away.

  His patience ran out and he took hold of her arm once more forcing her back down on the seat.

  “I am the man who kidnapped you and brought you here and therefore I have control of whom you see and what you do and there isn’t a dam thing you can do about it. Now sit tight and stop causing a scene. Do not move or I’ll lock you in your room and not let you out again. Am I understood?’ he said with calm menace that to her dismay only made his firmness with her unruly behavior sexy. “Remember who is in charge here.”

  Satisfied she had been stunned in to silence and obedience the billionaire left and disappeared back inside the Chateau and to her horror she didn’t dare move.

  Chapter Nine

  Mara sat alone on the stone seat waiting patiently, fuming at her decision not to move and do as she was told. She didn’t fancy going back inside and facing Abdul again and she hated admitting that she was actually allowing herself to rely on Stephane’s protection. After quarter of an hour the Butler appeared in front of her and requested she follow him to Mr Garreau’s study where she was wanted urgently.

  “I thought you told me to keep away from him?” Mara said sarcastically staring with venom at Abdul who was sitting comfortably in a red leather chair at the fireside in Stephane’s study.

  She had a bad feeling about Abdul’s presence, a very bad feeling. The Butler closed the heavy wood door behind her and she had the strange feeling that the walls of the room were closing in around her. She took an agitated breath and Abdul smiled.

  “Don’t look so worried, Mara. Stepahne and I have a proposal for you that will be a better alternative to spending the rest of your life in prison on a trumped up charge.”

  Mara glanced at Stephane who appeared angry and was centering most of it on his mother outside the window chatting to friends in the grounds.

  Abdul stood and caught Mara’s hand bringing his lips down on it.

  “The fact is, Mara, I need a wife. I am not getting any younger and I need a child. Instead of prison we think this would be a better idea.”

  The words drifted on the air, a distant echo she wasn’t sure she was hearing right. Wide eyed with horror she stared at Stephane. He was glaring at Abdul, his eyes a piercing blue ice that appeared ready to sprout daggers that would kill the man in one strike. She gave a nervous laugh. This had to be a joke.

  “This is a joke isn’t it? Isn’t it, Stephane,” she almost screamed.

  Stephane couldn’t find any words. His mouth felt paralyzed. His mother had changed the plan without his consent, changed the bluffed threat that to him was more sinister and unforgivable than prison. Abdul abused and kept down the women in his life. There was even suspicion hanging over his head regarding a murder of one of his conquests. And then there was his involvement in the female slave trade. Rumor was he had a lucrative business deal with slave traders in Eastern Europe.

  There had never been any intention of doing anything to Mara. It was always a con. He’d felt sure Ryan would have come through but Mara had been right he loved money much more than her. Ryan wasn’t convinced that Stephane was capable of imprisoning Mara or hurting her. They had been friends for a while and Ryan professed to know him too well. Besides why would he let go of a good money deal for nothing.

  Stephane’s mother had seen the exchange between Abdul and Mara. The man wanted her for some reason. Something was going on between them and it wasn’t just an attraction from Abdul. Stephane knew he would be giving Mara Logan to Abdul for a specific reason other than to be his wife and he doubted she would live long in his grasp. The thought of her being hurt or even killed threatened to destroy him. He didn’t want the man near her or touching her. She would go to him over his dead body.

  Stephane cursed inwardly thinking of the day his father got involved with Abdul in business a year before his death when he was CEO of Garreau Aerospace against all of his advice. The man was akin to Mafia but his
father was desperate to work with him because he had a wealth of impressive connections and business ideas. He would not listen to his son. Now in charge of the company, Stephane had spent the last year doing all in his power to cut the company’s ties with Abdul delaying the project, stopping his attempts to launder money through the company’s accounts and more. So far he had been successful and Abdul was beginning to lose interest.