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The Marriage Caper (Billionaire Games #2) Page 16
Author: Sandra Edwards

“Well done.” Andre shook Jim’s hand and then turned to Nola. “Thank you.” He kissed her cheek. No explanations were necessary. Nola knew Andre was thanking her for Tasha.

“You take good care of my little girl, Andre.” Nola smiled, consumed with pride.

“You can count on it,” Andre said as the driver opened the door. He smiled, guided Tasha into the car, then offered one last wave before disappearing inside with her.

The driver shut the door and trotted around to his side and jumped in. Seconds later, the brake lights flickered and the car rolled away from the hotel’s entrance.

Pride swelled around Nola’s heart and nearly pushed the tears past her eyes. Nola had done well. Her little girl was marrying the handsomest, richest man of Nola’s acquaintance—or anyone else she knew, for that matter.

Yes, there was much to brag about at the next Tahoe Women’s Club meeting.

Several minutes passed before Jim touched her elbow. “Are you ready to go, hon?”

“Not quite yet.” Nola’s eyes were still glued to the road, in the direction where Tasha and Andre’s limo had long since disappeared. “Just one more minute.”

“I’ll go get the car then. You wait here.”

Nola barely noticed Jim leaving. Instead, she wanted to savor the feeling of accomplishment that’d washed over her today. Nothing in Nola’s life to come would ever top this.

Moments later, a man stepped up beside Nola, but she barely noticed him. She was too busy reveling in her good fortune. Nola would now be the envy of all she knew.

“Pardon me.” The friendly greeting came in the form of a foreign accent, British. Nola cut her eyes toward him. He had his hands in his pockets, and he was rocking back and forth on his heels. Most people wouldn’t know his suit was an Armani knockoff, but she knew. Nola Gordon knew her fashion. Oblivious of her insight, he shrugged and shook his head. “Valet must be backed up.”

Nola narrowed her eyes. A cool September breeze blew her hair in her face.

“Parking,” he said. “I noticed you’ve been standing here for a while now.”

“No.” Nola raked her hair back, away from her face. “My husband is bringing the car around. We were seeing my daughter off. She just left with her husband. They’re flying back to France tonight. That’s where they live.” Nola was all too happy to brag about Tasha’s fortunate situation.

“So your daughter lives in France, hey? Lovely country.” He tipped his head to one side.

“Yes,” Nola said. “Her husband is from there. We don’t get over there much, but I’m sure that now that they’re having a baby we will go over for an extended stay.”

“Oh, a baby. You don’t say.” He pulled a hand from one of his pockets and offered it to Nola. “Congratulations. But if you don’t mind my saying so…you don’t look old enough to be a grandmother.”

Nola felt a surge of blood rush to her cheeks. It’d been a long time since anyone—a man—had complimented her.

Peter Wittmeyer thought he’d run up against a brick wall when he arrived in South Lake Tahoe, only to find out that Andre de Laurent and his American squeeze had just left. But then he had the good fortune of running into Tasha Gordon’s mother outside the Shoreline’s entrance.

That woman hadn’t been just a stream of information, she was a whole fountain. Thanks to her, he now knew that his clients’ worst fears had happened. Andre de Laurent had found himself a wife. And not only that, she was pregnant.

This wouldn’t bode well for Cecily Garceau Mason and her brother. It would, in fact, drive a stake through the heart of Cecily’s chances at disqualifying the de Laurent fellow from the will.

Peter had better make sure he received another payment from Ms. Mason before he turned over this new and damaging information.

CHAPTER TWELVE

THE FLIGHT TO FRANCE HAD BEEN AN UNEVENTFUL ONE. Tasha had slept on and off, but it had been restless sleep. When they arrived at the chateau, Andre insisted that Tasha take a short nap before dinner. This would give him time to talk to Papa and let him know about the surprise announcement he intended to make over dinner.

After seeing Tasha tucked into bed, Andre kissed her, turned the lights down and bid her adieu.

Expecting to find Papa in his study, Andre was a little more than surprised when he found the room empty. He traversed the hallways in search of his father, and the house seemed eerily quiet.

“Where is everyone?” he asked no one in particular as he approached the east salon—where he found Claudette.

Upon seeing him, Claudette smiled. She laid the book she was reading on the table at her side and pushed up from her chair. “Andre…” She pulled him to her, giving him a mother’s hug. “I’m so glad you’re back.” She put enough space between them to gaze upon his face. “Where’s Tasha? She is with you, right?”

“Yes.” Andre nodded. “She’s a bit tired from the trip. She’s resting before dinner.”

“Ah…wonderful.” Claudette stepped back. “I’ll have the arrangements for the wedding wrapped up early next week. Everything will go as planned next Saturday.”

“You are good.” Andre gave her small triumphant chuckle.

“Which, I presume, is why you turned to me.”

“Precisely.” Andre cleared his throat and looked around. “Where is Papa? I wanted to talk to him.”

“Don’t worry. I’ve already spoken to him. He will not divulge your secret.”

For a second, Andre wondered if he’d told Claudette about the baby, but remembered he hadn’t. She must be talking about the will’s stipulations. “Thank you.” Andre gave her a smile before backing out of the room. It was better that he continue to search for Papa himself. It wouldn’t pay for Claudette got a hold of the idea that Papa might learn a secret before she did.

“Andre…” She stepped out into the hallway after him. “Your father’s not here. He’ll be home in time for dinner.”

“Ah…” Andre nodded his head, trying to contain his disappointment. He wanted to tell Papa before he shared the news with the rest of the family. “I’ll catch up with him later.” Maybe he’d get a few minutes with Papa before dinner.

A soft rapping on the door aroused Tasha from her slumber. Damn, she thought as she crawled out of her sleep-induced stupor. “Yes…” She started to sit up, made it half-way and decided it wasn’t worth it, and fell back into bed.

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Sandra Edwards's Novels
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