Weathering the Storm Read online

  Luckily for her, the few other people who had decided to take a late-night dip stayed in the indoor pool.

  The one outside sparkled like a sapphire lit from within. The surface winked, beckoning her to dive into its depths. She marveled at how cleverly the infinity edge blended the pool with the ocean in the distance. Wishing she could swim into it and away from her situation, Maia closed her eyes as she took a long, deep breath. The crisp cool air was a far cry from the sultry heat of the afternoon. Perfect for clearing her mind. Maia dropped her robe and dove straight into the deep end.

  She loved the water. The moment the cool liquid enveloped her body, Maia’s nerves calmed somewhat. Her mind grew tranquil, her thoughts crystalizing. In the water, she could focus on her heartbeat. If only she could spend all her time there.

  Maia kicked lazily back to the surface when her lungs started to burn.

  As situations went, this had to be the most bizarre she’d ever been stuck in. She was in one of her favorite cities, in a magnificent world-class hotel, and she’d ruined any hopes of enjoying it thanks to what she’d done to Alex. She couldn’t even skulk quietly out of town because of the assignment Guillaume and her editor had sorted out. It wasn’t exactly something she could turn down. An article like this was a big deal. To say no would be a career killer, especially since Jo would more than likely bust her down to writing horoscopes. Her only alternative was to do her job, keep her head down and try to make it through in one piece.

  Even if the thought of being around Alex was slowly making her shrivel up from the inside.

  Seeing him again had been a huge shock. Being face to face with him had brought back the festering mess of feelings that she’d thought she’d buried a long time ago, and she’d reacted very badly.

  He was handsome—he always had been—but he was even more so now. Grown up, Alex made an impact on her senses in a way that his younger self had been just developing. Alexandre Girard’s presence was enough to hush a room and draw gazes. He had the gift of command and he knew how to wield it very well.

  His temper hadn’t changed. It took a lot to make him lose his composure and getting doused with champagne by a complete stranger was something that would have pushed just about anyone over the edge. She knew he never forgot a slight, and Maia was pretty sure that she’d managed to put herself on his list with one boneheaded move.

  Since the article was supposed to be about the hotel and the Girard Group, Maia fervently hoped that she’d be dealing with the senior Girard more than the younger. Thankfully, because of the champagne flinging, she was pretty sure Alexandre wouldn’t want to spend more time with her than was absolutely necessary. Who would want to be around someone who had done what she had to him?

  That was one blessing at least.

  Maia flipped over and cut her way through the water. Just doing something physical felt great. It was incredible how seeing one man again had the ability to tense every muscle in her body. The workout helped to relax them a little.

  At the other end, she flipped over again, choosing to float on her back to the other side.

  “You shouldn’t be down here.”

  Shivers skittered down her spine at the deep timbre of his voice. But she refused to let herself believe he had been the cause. She’d just been exposed to the cool night air for too long.

  Maia opened her eyes to look up at the unimpressed face of Alexandre. She righted herself and held on to the edge of the pool. “Why? Is this your personal swim time?”

  He let her snide comment slide. “Actually, I was more concerned about you being out here without a lifeguard.”

  She hated her knee-jerk reaction. It was obviously going to take some time to learn to let things go. Maia gazed at him, refusing to say another word. They stared at each other for a long moment.

  “Miss Reynolds, I want a straight answer to this.” He crouched so he could get a good look at her eyes. “Who are you?”

  Her attention was caught by the way his trousers pulled taut over his muscular thighs and Maia’s mouth went dry. Lifting her gaze to his eyes only made things worse.

  She swallowed. “I’m a writer for Pulse magazine.”

  Alex drew a slow breath. “Perhaps you didn’t understand me. I don’t want to know what you do or where you are from. I want to know how you know about my time abroad and what you think happened during it that made you want to waste perfectly good champagne on my shirt.”

  Her grip on the ledge tightened. “I’m sorry about that. I apologize. Wholeheartedly.”

  He didn’t move, though he nodded in consideration of her words. “Considering you managed to humiliate me in front of family, friends and press for no good reason, I really don’t think you can apologize enough.”

  Eyes narrowed, she glared at him. “If you want me to grovel, you’re going to be waiting a very long time.”

  He had the gall to look slightly amused at the suggestion. “I don’t expect you to kiss my feet. I just want an explanation.”

  Needing space, Maia pushed off from the side to float away from him. Now was as good a time as any. She took a deep breath. “We dated for a year when we were at university together.”

  His eyebrows drew together as he processed the information. “And I was such a bad lover that you felt the need to attack me for it nearly a decade later? Try again, Miss Reynolds.”

  She understood his skepticism, but it still hurt. The memories she had of their time together were some of the best and the worst she had. Biting her lip, she forced a calming breath. “You don’t have to believe me, but it’s the truth.”

  His expression hadn’t changed. “Let’s say what you’re saying it true. Why are you so angry with me?”

  She closed her eyes against the pain the flood of memories brought back. “You left in the middle of a semester. You said something about something going on with your family. It was all so quick there wasn’t time to process what was happening. One minute you were there and the next you were gone. And that was it. You disappeared off the face of the planet.”

  He contemplated what she had said a moment then shook his head with a wry smile. “Who told you about my amnesia?”

  “What?”

  “Someone must have told you. How else would you come up with this scheme?” He stared down his nose at her, waiting for a reply.

  For a moment, Maia nearly forgot she was in a pool and shock seized her limbs. She quickly recovered before water closed over her nose. Kicking furiously, she glared at him, barely able to put the words together. “You seriously think I’m making all of this up? What would I have to gain?”

  “Money of course. Why else would you come up with something so preposterous? Why is there no evidence of our relationship? If it was as serious as you made it sound, why are there no photos? No mementos?”

  Anger hazed her vision as she swam to the opposite side of the pool. She obviously hadn’t mattered to him as he had to her, or wouldn’t he have kept something? Brought something back with him?

  Heart aching, she looked at Alex. “You wanted to know. Now you do. You don’t have to believe me. But the next time you want to accuse me of something so disgusting, you can expect something else thrown in your face.” Probably her fist.

  She levered herself out of the pool and left a sullen Alex watching her leave for the second time.

  * * * *

  Maia got back to the suite, shivering with cold and suppressed anger. She’d completely forgotten about her robe in her rage and now that it was burning out, the cold had started to seep into her system.

  How dare he insinuate she was making everything up to get his money! The idea was repugnant. She had to wonder if he was the one with the diseased mind for coming up with it.

  What kind of people did he have to deal with to jump to that sort of conclusion? She shuddered to think.

  And he thought she was like them? It infuriated Maia that he thought so little of her.

  Maia stalked around the living area
like a caged tigress. Her anger and frustration mounted by the second. She couldn’t blame him for being cagey when he couldn’t remember what had happened, but to throw unmitigated accusations in her face angered her more than anything else he could have done.

  Most of all, it made her chest ache in a way she thought she’d gotten over.

  Alex didn’t remember her. Not that it mattered since this Alex was a far cry from the sweet Alex Giroux she remembered. Then again, the guy she remembered didn’t even exist. From all she’d just learned, everything he’d told her as a student had been a lie. Alex was cold, calculating and thought she was a gold-digger. And to top it all off, she was stuck working with him.

  Wonderful. Just wonderful.

  And, of course, her phone chose that moment to ring.

  Jo flashed on the screen as a warning she was about to have a conversation with her boss.

  “Hi, Jo.” She scrubbed her hand over her face.

  Her editor’s bubbly voice blasted through the phone. “Maia! I wasn’t sure I was going to get you. What time is it over there?”

  She couldn’t be bothered to check. “I don’t know. The sun’s not up yet, though.”

  Jo’s tone softened a little, but not by much. “Sorry. Didn’t wake you, did I?”

  “No.” Maia ran a hand through her hair. She got the feeling this was going to be a long one. “I’ve been told that you wanted to go over the details of the article?”

  “Monsieur Girard told you, huh? I thought it would be a great idea to expand on the article.” Before Maia could form a retort, her editor barreled on. “I was thinking we could do a themed issue. All the fashion, glamor, nightlife, et cetera, of the French Riviera. I’ve sent Chloe to you so she can start on the research for the fashion and nightlife. She should be there any time now.”

  As always, Jo Cannon, Editor in Chief of Pulse magazine, was working at breakneck speed. She was what made the magazine such a triumph and her employees such a mess. This wasn’t the first time Jo had sprung huge ideas on her. At least this time she had a few hours’ heads up.

  The only thing she could do was go with it and try not to get knocked over in the process.

  Maia took notes while Jo fired a stream of ideas at her and made the appropriate noises at the right times. Or so she hoped. She’d barely heard a word the woman said.

  But Jo didn’t seem to notice Maia’s distracted state. “So it’s set, then. I want the article on my desk by the end of the month.”

  “Great. I’ll talk to you again soon.” Maia hung up and placed the phone on the table. A whole month in Nice. In other circumstances, she would have been rejoicing. Now, however, the thought of being here a month, working, stuck with Alexandre, only created a sinking feeling in her stomach.

  And she had to work with Chloe, the most conniving, backstabbing bitch of a writer she had ever had the misfortune of working with. Maia knew it was only a matter of time before things imploded.

  A heavy knock on the door interrupted her silent misery.

  Speaking of the witch. Maia yanked open the door to see not only Chloe, but Alex as well.

  Maia swept aside and motioned them in. “Chloe. Monsieur Girard.”

  He waited for the Amazonian blonde to walk in before following. “Miss Reynolds.” He gave Maia a slow nod. “Sorry to disturb you. I brought your robe.”

  Maia took it from him under Chloe’s speculating gaze. “Thanks.”

  Alexandre nodded. “And your colleague wanted to see you right away.”

  And he’d taken it upon himself to bring her? Maia wasn’t quite sure what to make of that. “Thanks again.” It sounded flat even to her own ears.

  Silence.

  It was Chloe who decided to break the heavy silence. “Monsieur Girard here has offered to show me the sights of Nice. Isn’t that nice of him?”

  “Very.” Maia turned to Alexandre. “I’ve talked to my editor and finalized things with her. If you’re going to be occupied”—she spared a glance at Chloe—“all you have to do is give me your notes and I’ll take it from there.” She fervently hoped that he would take that option so she wouldn’t have to suffer his presence again.

  He leveled his unnerving gaze on her. “That would be rude of me. My father wanted you to see and know everything about this hotel. How would it look if I abandoned you?”

  His choice of wording was like a stab through the heart. “Oh, I’m sure I can handle it.”

  “Nevertheless, I’ll make myself available to you.”

  How magnanimous of him. She forced a half smile. “Wonderful. I’ll see you at breakfast.”

  “Of course.” Then he was gone.

  The door closed with a near silent click and her partner for the duration fell against it. “Holy hell, is that man hot.” Chloe fanned herself dramatically as she pushed herself off and wandered around the suite. “You should be nicer to him. It’s obvious he doesn’t like you very much.” She sighed as she ran her hand over the glossy glass of the table. “This is a gorgeous room.”

  Maia just wished the woman gone. “It is.”

  “Wow. Not a morning person, are you?” Chloe pulled open the curtains to reveal the sun creeping over the horizon.

  Not when it was a morning like this one. Shielding her eyes, she sighed. “Chloe, why don’t you go explore your room? Maybe take a nap? You know, get on France time.”

  “Good idea. I’m supposed to meet up with the delectable Monsieur Girard this afternoon so he can show me around a bit.” She waggled her eyebrows.

  The suggestiveness of Chloe’s comment was blatant enough without the eyebrow gymnastics. Maia knew she didn’t have the right, but jealousy flared ugly and hot in her gut. “He’s out of your league, Chloe.”

  “Aw, Maia. Don’t worry.” Chloe patted her on the cheek. “I won’t flirt too hard. It shouldn’t be too difficult to get the goods from him. After all, he offered to help me. I understand you had to practically get his dad to force him to help you.”

  Weary, Maia walked to the door and opened it. “Just don’t embarrass yourself. Too much.”

  “I never get embarrassed.” Chloe flashed Maia a smile and sashayed out of the room.

  Maia believed it.

  With a kick, she closed the door, cutting off the wake of whatever perfume Chloe had bathed herself in. She was a piece of work, but with her around, Alexandre would be more than occupied.

  The thought gave her hope. She would do the job, be utterly professional and everything would be fine.

  She would be fine.

  How many times had she told herself that now?

  How long before it was true?

  Chapter Three

  Maia was showered, dressed and reasonably presentable by the time nine a.m. rolled around, but she was resigned to having breakfast looking like a zombie. Who cared, right? It wasn’t like she was out to impress anyone.

  When she exited the bathroom, she heard a soft knocking at the door.

  The smiling face of the older Girard greeted her. “Miss Reynolds! Bon matin.”

  Maia fought to bring some life to her face. “Good morning, Monsieur Girard. What brings you by?”

  “I’ve talked to your editor and she said that you have a fantastique article forthcoming. I’m overjoyed and wanted to thank you in person for agreeing to do it.”

  She smiled wanly. “You should probably wait until I’ve written it before you say that.”

  “Mademoiselle, I have every confidence in you.” Guillaume’s smile turned apologetic. “I came with the intention of walking with you to breakfast.” He blinked at her. “Would you like a few moments?”

  Did she look that bad? Maia shook her head. “I was actually just about to go meet your son.”

  His ever-present smile morphed again, this time turning soft. “I’m sorry that business has impeded on my joining you both this morning. You have to let me make it up to you. Would you agree to dinner at my home tonight?”

  Maia didn’t want to voice
the question that bloomed first and foremost in her mind. Was Alex going to be there? Stupid question. Of course he would be. He was the man’s son.

  “It will be fantastique. I’m having a few friends over for a private celebration for my birthday. You must come.”

  “I can’t think of a reason not to.” She really couldn’t. Alex be damned. She wasn’t about to let him creep back into her life. “It sounds lovely.”

  “Wonderful! I’ll have Alex bring you.”

  Wouldn’t he just love that? “Thank you. Now if you’ll please excuse me, I don’t want to be late meeting your son. I’m sure he hates me enough as it is.”

  “Nonsense. Alex will just have to get over it.” He crooked his arm at her. “Permit me to walk you to breakfast?”

  Maia slipped her arm through his. “Please.”

  Their progress was punctuated by silence. She was simply too tired to even attempt small talk and Guillaume seemed content to let her brood. At least for a little while.

  “You are quiet this morning, Ms. Reynolds,” Guillaume said softly.

  In an attempt to change the topic she replied, “Please call me Maia, monsieur.”

  He beamed at her. “Only if you will call me Guillaume. So what has you down?”

  She smiled in thanks, though she wasn’t quite brave enough to call him by his first name just yet. “I just had a late night.”

  “Was there a problem with your room?”

  She wasn’t about to tell him the true reason for her funk. “Oh, nothing like that. I’ve just had a lot on my mind lately.”

  “I hope you’re not worrying over Alex. He will have gotten over dinner by now.”

  “But I haven’t,” she muttered.

  Guillaume jostled her good-naturedly. “Come now. What’s youth for if not for a little impulsiveness?”

  Maia was disinclined to agree.

  She was briefly distracted from her self-flagellation by the sight of the terrace as they walked onto it.