The Escape Clause (14 page)

Marcus started for the front door without waiting for her, but when he looked back she knew he’d wanted her to catch up.

“Make sure when your grandfather asks, you tell him about your investor meeting. Those gentlemen were hand picked by him to meet with you.”

Avery nodded.

“He will want to know which restaurants were mentioned and which ones will have the first bottles of wine.”

“I don’t know that I remember them all.”

“I will help you.” Marcus stopped and turned toward her. “Your grandfather gave me his blessing with you.”

She narrowed her eyes. “His blessing?”

“He thinks we are a fine fit together.”

She puckered her lips as she thought. “I realize you think there is some grand affair going on between us…”

“Not an affair, Avery.”

“Fine. Whatever it is, it is new. I’m a modern woman, Marcus. This hovering over me is making me a little crazy.”

He stepped closer to her. “You came to be successful, yes?”

“Yes.”

His lips turned up in a crooked grin. “I am successful. You will never need for anything but me and my last name,” he said flatly then turned and entered the house without knocking or ringing the bell.

The entrance to the house was as grand on the inside as it was on the outside.

Her shoes clicked on the cold marble floor.

A man emerged from the library to her left. “Monsieur Pierpont will be down shortly. I have been asked to offer you a drink.”

Marcus gave him a curt nod and followed him into the library. Avery followed, her hands clasped around her clutch. It had become a security blanket of sorts.

The man poured scotch over ice and handed it to Marcus. He then poured her a glass of wine without asking if it was what she’d wanted.

He then excused himself leaving Marcus and Avery alone in the oversized room.

“Do you suppose my grandfather will be long? I feel a headache coming on,” she said setting her wine glass down on a small table.

“He will come when he is ready. You do not rush a man a busy as your grandfather.”

And she wondered why he’d make them wait.

As it was, they’d waited twenty-seven minutes for the man before he walked through the door of the library. Avery’s headache was nearly a migraine now clouding her focus and her sight.

“Marcus!” Her grandfather’s voice echoed through the room. Marcus stood and moved toward her grandfather. “Always a pleasure to have you in my home,” he said in French, but she’d understood it.

“Thank you, sir,” Marcus smiled warmly as he shook her grandfather’s hand.

Her grandfather then turned toward her, his eyes narrow on her, forcing her to rise to her feet. “Avery, I’m glad you could come.” His voice had gone flat and it seared through her.

And that concluded the pleasantries.

The rest of the evening was pretentious hors d'oeuvres and precisely plated foods Avery couldn’t identify. Her grandfather had an entire staff at his disposal and neither he nor Marcus ever thanked them as they served.

Conversation moved around her. The meetings she’d had with the investors were talked about in length, without her.

The onset of the migraine she’d had was now full blown. It absolutely exploded when she looked up and a fuzzy image of her grandfather was looking at her.

“You do agree, Avery?”

She couldn’t help but just stare at the man. This man who had given her the very opportunity to be just like her mother, he was a stranger.

He wasn’t as old as her Grandpa Alan. He wasn’t as kind either. She missed her dad’s parents as much as she missed everyone at home.

Suddenly the need to be with them was nearly as painful as the pounding in her head.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t hear the question,” she meekly replied.

His eyes narrowed again. This, she realized at this moment, was how he looked at her always. It was how he looked at her mother too.

“You and Marcus make a fine team. He is doing well overseeing the vineyard and the winery. You are a good aide for him to have.”

“Aide?”

He nodded slowly. “You are a pretty face. The image of my own daughter. She was good to have to interest business partners. I think the men enjoyed your company at lunch.”

Her vision was nearly gone now, but she didn’t know if that was the anger or the headache.

“I thought you bought the winery for me to run.”

A smile formed on his lips. “Avery, you have your mother’s fire. I assume you have her stubborn will as well,” he said and the smile tightened. “A woman can entice business. Marcus can run it.”

For a moment, she thought she might pass out at the table. She reached for her water glass and it shook in her hand.

“Avery,” Marcus’s tone was nearly sweet. “Are you okay sweetheart?”

“I have a headache,” she said wincing. “A migraine.”

Her grandfather leaned back in his chair with a grunt. “Her mother’s mother would have those whenever we had a discussion that needed attention.” He placed his napkin on the table and motioned for the man who stood patiently waiting by the door for some command. “Get her something for her headache.”

The man nodded and disappeared.

“Maybe she should lay down,” Marcus said, but he didn’t move as though he were waiting for confirmation that it would be okay.

Her grandfather held up his hand. “They will get her something.” He turned and that look seared into her again. “You are so much like your mother. You have not gone out and gotten pregnant have you?”

She wanted to be offended and she wanted to lash out, but the spinning of the room was making her sick.

“I need to get sick, Grandfather.”

He let out another grunt as Marcus hurried around the table and rushed her down the hall.

The dinner and the wine came at her quickly and she released it all into the toilet as Marcus shut the door. Her skin broke into a cold sweat and she fell onto the cold marble floor.

At that moment, she knew what she needed. She needed her mother. She needed to go home.

“Avery, I have some pain medicine for you,” Marcus said from the other side of the door.

“One moment.”

She managed to push herself to her feet and rest her hands on the sides of the sink. Turning on the cold water, she took a small towel and wet it, then pressed it to the back of her neck.

When she felt the wave of sickness move on, she cleaned up and opened the door.

Marcus stood holding a glass of water and a few pills in his hand. “This should help.”

She took the pills and the water then swallowed them down. “I want to go home.”

He nodded. “The driver will take you.”

She grit her teeth. “Fine.”

Marcus moved in closer to her and touched her arm. “Is he correct, Avery? Are you pregnant? We didn’t plan for you to be pregnant.”

As painful as it was, she pushed her shoulders back. “No, I’m not pregnant. And if I was it wouldn’t be a crime either.” She winced from the pain building behind her eyes. “I wasn’t some mistake my mother just made. She loves my father and he’s a very good man. He’s an excellent father. My grandfather doesn’t see that.”

“Your grandfather has always been clear on what he thought was best for you and your mother.”

Her blood ran hot in her veins. “I think I’m done here.” She made a move to walk by him, but he stopped her, gripping her arms. The pain of it shot through her.

“He wants us to get married, Avery. Soon.”

The air whooshed from her lungs. “Married? I haven’t known you that long.”

Marcus’s eyes shifted. “Your mother had an affair with your father and got pregnant. He assumes you understand fast love.”

“Are you saying you’re in love with me?”

“Everyone can learn to love.” His grip eased as he moved in closer to her nearly backing her up against the wall. “I know you still love that man back home, but that is over,” he said sharply. “You know that and I know that, Avery. I can give you this life you have dreamed of since childhood. Cars, clothes, jewelry, exotic destinations. No one in Nashville can do that for you. You belong here. Inside of you, you are Pierpont. You are made for this. When we marry then the winery becomes ours. It’ll be our legacy to leave behind. Yours and mine.” He traced a finger down her throat. “Marry me.”

Certainly he wasn’t proposing to her standing outside a bathroom where she’d just thrown up. This was about the most absurd thing she’d ever heard in her life.

“I need to go home and I need to rest.”

“You do not have an answer for me?”

“Marcus, this isn’t what you want and you know it. It isn’t what I want.”

“But it is. I will give you the grandest wedding this area has ever seen, Avery. I promise you that. We will make a grand life together.”

He moved in to kiss her and then shifted to kiss her clammy cheek.

“This is what will be, Avery,” he growled the words in her ear. “You will be my wife and we will own the vineyard.” He stepped back. “There is no need to answer me now. Your answer is yes, because you crave the power my last name will give you.” His eyes narrowed when she gasped at his comment. “Go home. I’ll be there soon. We will make arrangements.”

If her vision was clear, she might have attempted to smack him. Had he simply decided they were getting married?

She walked away and toward the front door. Her arms still ached from where he’d gripped her tightly.

This man her grandfather wanted her to be with was a monster.

Avery was going to make plans, when she got home. But she was damn sure they weren’t the ones Marcus wanted.

Chapter Sixteen

Avery’s head still throbbed from her migraine and the few lights in the car were making her dizzy. The pills would take affect soon and she’d be okay.

Closing her eyes, she began to formulate a plan. She needed to get out of France. She needed to go back home. There was no feeling safe in France anymore.

Not knowing how long she’d have before Marcus came for her, she decided to stop at her house on the vineyard, quickly pack, and then drive toward Paris.

The throbbing in her head had subsided a bit, but now it spun with ideas. All of her credit cards were in her grandfather’s name and Marcus owned her phone.

She’d very quickly become a kept woman, she’d realized. One that could be wooed with luxurious vacations and plied with alcohol in order to do things she’d never have done.

No, that wasn’t something she was going to dwell on. It was simply something she had to deal with—a battle of her coinscience.

If she stayed in France, she’d just be some victim to Marcus and her grandfather. If she went home to Nashville, she’d never be alone.

The first moment she got, she’d call Spencer. He’d ask the fewest questions up front, but she’d be answering them all when she got back home.

Looking at the clock on her phone, she calculated the time difference in Nashville. Spencer would still be at work.

Avery waited until the driver had dropped her at home and driven away. The last thing she’d needed was him hearing her call Spencer.

The moment she walked through the door she dialed his number. A few transfers through the company and finally he answered.

“This is Spencer Benson.”

“Spence,” she tried to keep any terror out of her voice, but it had trickled through.

“Avery! I thought you’d forgotten about us. You haven’t called me since before you left. Do you know the last time I went more than four days without talking to…”

“I need help,” she interrupted.

“Avery, are you in trouble? Are you safe? I’ll be there. Tell me what you need.”

Tears burned her eyes, which only made the headache reveal itself again. This was her family. This was what she’d given up so foolishly.

“My credit cards are all in my grandfather’s name and my phone is in Marcus’s.”

“Who is Marcus?”

That would be another thing she’d be filling him in on. “That’s not important. I need you to wire me some money for airfare. I need to get home.”

There was more going on with Spencer. Was he walking quickly? Was he running with his phone to his ear?

“Avery, what’s going on? Tell me you’re not in danger.”

“I don’t think I am.”

“You don’t
think
you are?”

“Listen, I’m a big enough girl to say I made a mistake coming here and I need to get home. Spencer, I just need some money wired to me to get home. Now.”

“Hold on,” he said and then she could hear a muffled conversation taking place.

“Avery?” She cringed when she heard her Uncle Zach’s voice.

“Yes.”

“I’m in contact with a colleague there who can fly you here. Can you get to the airport in Paris?” The tears that stung were no longer a threat. They flowed down her cheeks.

“Yes, sir.”

“Are you with Monsieur Pierpont?”

“No. I left his house a half hour ago. I’m at the vineyard house.”

“I’ll arrange a ride if you need one.”

“No, sir. I need to go now. I have a car.”

“Are you in trouble? Is someone after you?”

She winced, thinking of Marcus grabbing her arms and making his demands. “No, sir. I just don’t want to be here when Marcus arrives. I just want to go home.”

There was a deep sigh on the other end of the phone. “Marcus Bravard?”

Her heart nearly stopped. “Yes. You know him?”

“His family.” He let out another breath. “Are you and Marcus involved?”

What was she supposed to say? Her decisions
,
where Marcus were concerned, were as bad as her decision to move to France anyway.

When she didn’t answer Zach simply said, “Well, let’s get you home.”

~*~

Tapping his pen against his coffee mug, Pete looked at the clock in the boardroom. Seriously, could time go any slower?

Gail, the woman to his right, grabbed hold of his hand and stopped his tapping.

“You’re going to make me crazy if you do that one more time,” she whispered as his boss moved to the next frame of the presentation he was giving.

“Sorry,” he whispered back.