The Ruthless Billionaire’s Redemption. Sandra Marton. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Sandra Marton
Издательство: HarperCollins
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Жанр произведения: Современные любовные романы
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said all you had to do was post notices.’

      ‘Well, that’s what I thought. But other things keep cropping up, and Barney’s interpreter isn’t always here. Sometimes he’s in Nice on business, or—’

      ‘Did you tell this Mr Wexler you were fluent in the language?’

      There was another silence. ‘No,’ Val said finally, ‘not exactly. I just told him the truth, that I’d done very well in my French classes.’

      Despite herself, Danielle began to laugh. ‘Val,’ she said patiently, ‘I did very well, remember? You used to copy my homework. And I drilled you like crazy before each exam.’

      ‘And you could do that now,’ Val said eagerly. ‘Well, not drill me, but you could help me deal with some of the office work. And you could field some of the calls that come in—honestly, French people talk a hundred miles an hour. It’s so hard to understand a word they say.’ Her voice softened. ‘Mom thinks it’s a terrific idea.’

      ‘You already spoke to Aunt Helen about this? But—’

      ‘She says you could use a change of scene. She says the accident upset you a lot.’ There was a brief silence. ‘I really meant to call you, Danni. Was it very awful?’

      Danielle closed her eyes. ‘Yes,’ she whispered finally. ‘It was terrible.’

      ‘What was his name? Teddy?’

      ‘Eddie. Eddie Chancellor. You knew him, Val. He was two years ahead of us in school.’

      ‘Was he on the football team or anything?’

      Danielle smiled at the thought. ‘No. He was on the debating team.’

      ‘I wouldn’t remember him, then.’ For a moment, the offhand carelessness of the remark angered Danielle, but then Valerie sighed and her voice filled with concern. ‘I’m really sorry,’ she said. ‘When did it happen?’

      ‘Eight months. It’s been eight months since—’

      ‘Getting away would be good for you. And you’d save my life. Really.’

      Danielle smiled again. ‘You always were too dramatic.’

      ‘Well, it’s true.’ Valerie’s voice grew soft. ‘I really need you here.’ There was a sudden crackle of static. ‘Listen, I have to get off the phone now. I’ll send you the directions to Ste Agathe, OK? You won’t have any trouble finding it. There’s this road that goes straight from Nice into the mountains—’

      ‘I haven’t said I’m coming,’ Danielle said quickly.

      ‘Of course you’re coming.’ Static crackled again, and then Danielle thought she heard the distant sound of a man’s deep voice, followed by husky laughter. She hunched over the phone, straining to hear.

      ‘Val? Are you still there?’

      ‘I’m here,’ Val said in a sort of breathless whisper, and then she laughed softly. ‘In a minute. Yes. Well, I’m asking her now.’

      ‘Who are you talking to?’

      ‘Danielle, listen, I really have to run. You just make your flight reservations. Do you have a passport? And you’ll need a visa. Oh, and I guess you’ll need a rental car to get here from the airport. And—’

      ‘What’s your number there? How can I reach you? Val?’

      The phone went dead. Danielle hung up slowly, then leaned back against the pillows and tried to imagine Val as an administrative assistant on a film set. The locale sounded glamorous enough, but the job sounded stodgy—nothing like the things her cousin had tried so far: modelling, commercials, even summer theatre once. Val had always been beautiful, and she’d gone easily from high school graduation into a world where that beauty, rather than the ability to conjugate verbs or add a column of figures, had been all she needed to succeed. An administrative assistant, Danielle thought again. Well, that only proved how out of touch they were.

      She yawned, got to her feet, then walked to the window and opened the curtains. The June morning was painting the sky with gold. The day was already warm, and the air smelled faintly of the cornfields that stretched away to the Missouri horizon.

      Lazily, Danielle stretched her arms high over her head. She was tired, but there was no sense in trying to go back to sleep now. She’d shower, dress, have her breakfast—and think about Val’s invitation.

      A whole summer in France, she thought as she pulled off her nightshirt and dropped it on the bed. What a vacation that would be! She’d never really done any travelling, except for last winter’s trip to visit Aunt Helen and Uncle John in their new retirement home in Arizona.

      And Val was right—she really could do with a change. The winter had been long and harsh. And the accident had taken a terrible toll. She still had visions of Eddie lying in the road, his blood turning the rain-slicked tarmac red as his life had drained away.

      Danielle shook her head and marched to the bathroom. No. She wouldn’t think about that awful day any more. Quickly, she stepped into the bath and turned on the shower. Brooding about Eddie wouldn’t bring him back. And, now that she thought about it, a trip to Europe wouldn’t do it, either. What it would do was exhaust her bank account—room and board might be free, but the fare wasn’t.

      The more she thought, the more negatives there were. Val might be comfortable on a glitzy film set, but would she? And then there was Val herself—could they even get on together for a whole summer? They’d been dissimilar enough when they were teenagers; what did they have in common now?

      Danielle lathered a facecloth and began scrubbing herself. She’d call Aunt Helen this evening and get Val’s phone number, and then she’d call her cousin and tell her thanks, but no thanks. And that would be the end of that.

      But it hadn’t been. ‘Are you nuts?’ Ginny had demanded when she mentioned Val’s invitation in the faculty room at lunch. ‘A free trip to France, and you’re turning it down?’

      It had been useless to keep repeating that the trip wasn’t free. It was almost free, her friend had insisted. And not even an explanation of why Val had really tendered the invitation was enough to dim her friend’s enthusiasm.

      ‘Maybe she’s changed. I mean, wouldn’t it be great if she really wanted the two of you to get close?’

      Danielle’s eyes had clouded for a second, but then she’d shaken her head. ‘I’m too old to believe in miracles, Ginny.’

      ‘Well, then, let her think she’s getting some mileage out of you, the same as when you were kids.’ Ginny had grinned impishly. ‘You’ll be getting yours, too. A summer abroad—on a film set, no less!’

      But the final straw had fallen that afternoon. The phone had been ringing as Danielle came in the door. It had been Aunt Helen, calling from Arizona. Her aunt hadn’t let her get a word in before she’d started saying how happy she was that her two girls were going to spend the summer together, and then Uncle John had got on the phone, saying how pleased he was that his girls were still pals, that he hadn’t seen Helen look so bright and chipper since her heart attack.

      ‘You have to go now,’ Ginny had said innocently. ‘I mean, how can you let your aunt down?’

      ‘I can’t, I guess,’ Danielle had said.

      But she could have, she thought now, shifting in the hard plastic chair at New York’s Kennedy Airport. The simple truth was that she’d hidden behind Ginny’s urgings and Aunt Helen’s delight—she’d wanted to accept Val’s offer all along, she just hadn’t wanted to admit it to herself. Teachers were as underpaid in Missouri as they were everywhere else. This might be the only chance she’d have to spend eight weeks in France, at least in the foreseeable future.

      ‘Ladies and gentlemen, good day. We are now ready to begin boarding Air France’s Flight 010 direct to Nice. Will first-class