Michelle Celmer – More than a Convenient Bride (страница 2)
“She doesn’t look so good,” Beth said as Theresa wheeled Luc’s mother toward the parking lot to the van Luc had custom-built for her. When it came to taking care of his mother, he spared no expense.
A stab of sadness pierced Julie’s heart. In the six months since she’d moved to Royal, Julie had come to consider Elizabeth a dear friend. She was the closest thing Julie had had to a mother since her own mother died giving birth to her sister, Jennifer. Her father waited to remarry until after she and her sister had left home, and though he dated, he’d never brought a woman home to meet his daughters. He traveled extensively, so they were raised by nannies and the other house staff. Homeschooled by tutors.
And when he was home? Well, she didn’t like to think about that.
“I don’t suppose you’ll have any free time to volunteer this week,” Megan said. “Just an hour or two? Someone left a cardboard box of three-week-old puppies on the doorstep. They need to be bottle-fed every hour or so and I’m ridiculously understaffed this week.” Manager of the local animal shelter, she was known for taking in strays. Animals and humans alike. She had certainly gone out of her way to make Julie feel welcome when she arrived in Royal. Her significant other, as well as Beth’s, were members of the Cattleman’s Club with Luc.
It was shaping up to be a very busy week, but Julie could always make time to help a friend. And sadly, this would probably be the last time. “Of course,” Julie said. “Just let me know when you need me.”
Megan sighed with relief. “You’re a lifesaver!”
They stood chatting for several minutes, before Julie heard a familiar voice say, “Good afternoon, ladies.”
She turned as Luc joined them, smiling brightly to hide the deep feeling of sadness that seemed to radiate from the center of her bones. She could tell by the way he tugged at his tie that he was already irritable. No sense in making him feel even worse.
“It’s a wonderful thing you’ve done,” Megan told him, and Beth nodded in agreement.
“Thank you, ma’am,” he said, pouring on the Texas charm. Though he was her boss, and they had never been more than friends—best friends, but just friends—that drawl sometimes gave her a warm feeling inside her bones.
“Can I give you a lift home?” he asked Julie. Her apartment was within walking distance from the clinic, and it was a sunny and pleasant day for a stroll, but she suspected he was looking for any excuse to leave.
“If you wouldn’t mind,” she said, playing along, noticing a look pass between Megan and Beth, as if they knew Luc was eager to escape.
“Good to see you ladies,” he said, nodding cordially, that hint of Texas twang boosting his charm somewhere into the stratosphere.
Julie followed him to his car, his stride so much longer than hers she practically had to run to keep up.
“What’s your rush,” she said, though she already knew the answer.
“Damn,” Luc muttered, pulling at his tie as if it were a noose. “Why does everyone have to make such a big deal about it?”
Seriously? “Because it
“It’s not as if I built it with my own two hands,” he said, using his key fob to unlock his Mercedes. “I just wrote out a check.”
“A ridiculously enormous check,” she reminded him as he opened the door for her. He’d also remained involved through the design stage and the construction process, to be sure that everything was built to his exact specifications. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, this was, in many ways,
As they drove through town, sadness and regret leaked from every pore. In the six months she’d been here, Royal had become her haven. The US felt like more of a home to her now than her native South Africa, and now she had to leave. She had no idea where she would go, or what she would do, and she had little time to figure it out.
Silence filled the car, and as they pulled into the gated community where she was currently staying, Luc said, “You’re awfully quiet. Would you like to talk about it?”
“Talk about what?” she asked, dreading the inevitable conversation. But Luc could always tell when she was upset. She could swear that sometimes he knew her better than she knew herself.
“Whatever is bothering you.” He parked outside her condo and turned to her. “Did I do something to upset you?”
“No, of course not.” She’d hoped to put this off a little while longer, so as not to dampen his special day, but there was so much concern in the depths of his eyes, it seemed only fair to tell him now.
“So, what is it?”
As her brain worked to find the appropriate words, tears burned the backs of her eyes. Maybe the parking lot wasn’t the best place to do this.
“Can you come inside for a few minutes? We need to talk.”
His brow furrowed, he killed the engine. “Of course. Is everything okay?”
No, not at all. “Let’s talk inside.”
Gentleman that he was, Luc took her keys as they reached her door and unlocked it for her. He didn’t even do it consciously. It was just his way. His mother, born and bred in Georgia, was old-fashioned when it came to matters of social grace. He claimed that from the day he was born, she’d drilled him with proper Southern manners.
Whatever she’d done, it had worked. He was one of the most courteous men Julie had ever known. In all the time they had been friends and worked together, he’d never said a harsh word, or once raised his voice to her. Or to anyone else, for that matter. He had such a commanding presence, he never had to. People took one look at those piercing hazel eyes and that
As they stepped inside the apartment, afternoon sunshine and fresh spring air poured in through the partially open window in the living room. Luc shrugged out of his suit jacket and dropped like a lead weight onto the sofa, looking far too masculine for the floral printed chintz. The furniture, which was too formal and froofy for her taste, and not all that comfortable, either, came with the apartment. Expecting good news when she’d filed to renew her visa, she’d been tentatively window-shopping in her spare time for furniture more suited to her. She wouldn’t be needing it now. Not here, anyway.
She wasn’t even sure where she would live. Other than a few distant aunts and uncles, she had no family left in her hometown. And when her father had passed away, his wife, whom Julie never had the pleasure of meeting, sold off the entire estate before the body was cold.
Julie had so much to plan, and so little time to do it.
She set her purse on the coffee table and sat beside Luc, fisting her hands in her lap. There was nothing she hated more than giving good people bad news.
Luc unknotted his tie, tugged it off and tossed it over the sofa arm on top of his jacket. Relaxing back against the cushions he undid the top two buttons of his dress shirt. “Okay, let’s hear it.”
She took a deep breath, working up the nerve to tell him. “I heard back from immigration yesterday.”
One brow rose in anticipation. “And?”
In a blur of navy blue Italian silk and white Egyptian cotton, Luc was on his feet. “
Tears pricked the corners of her eyes. Now was not the time for a messy emotional display. She’d learned years ago that crying only made things worse. “According to your government I’ve overstayed my welcome. I have two weeks to pack up my things and get out of the US.”
“How is that possible? You’re on a humanitarian mission.”
“Technically I’m on a work visa.”
“I still don’t see the problem. You’re still my research assistant. Gainfully employed. What changed?”
“Remember how I told you that in college I attended several protests.”
“I remember.”
“Well, what I didn’t tell you is that I was arrested a few times.“
“Were you convicted?”
“No, but I was afraid that if I put it down on my application I would be denied.”
“So you left it out?”
She bit her lip and nodded, feeling juvenile and ashamed for having lied in the first place. But she would have done almost anything to come to the US and help her best friend. Now that one serious lapse in judgment was coming back to bite her in the rear. “I screwed up. I thought that because the charges were dropped, and it was a peaceful political protest, it wouldn’t matter anyway. I was wrong.”
“There has to be something we can do,” he said, pacing the oriental rug, brow deeply furrowed. “Maybe I could talk to someone. Pull some strings.”
“The decision is final.”
His chin tilted upward. “I can’t accept that.”
She rose from the sofa, touching his arm, stopping him in his tracks. “You don’t have a choice. It’s done.”
He muttered a curse, one he wouldn’t normally use in the presence of a female, and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. She rested her head against his chest, breathed in the scent of his aftershave. It wasn’t often that they embraced this way, and she found herself dreading the moment he let go.
The stubble on his chin brushed her forehead as he spoke. “There has to be something we can do.”