The Trouble With Coco Monroe (16 page)

It wasn’t healthy to dig up the past.

She’d moved on, made something of her life for herself and her child.

No.

The past should stay exactly where it was, dead and buried.

Bronte moved to sit next to her and put her arm around her shoulders. ‘Okay,’ she said. ‘But when you’re ready to talk you know I’m here for you. What are you going to do about The Grange? Joshua Erichsen is one of the best in his field. And he won’t screw you.’

Janine was so grateful for her friend’s understanding, for not pushing her, but the last part of the statement made her smile. ‘Touché.’

Bronte lips curved but her eyes remained anxious.

‘I mean he watches the budget very carefully. He knows your position, how much you have to spend. He’s brilliant at dealing with the planning authorities and the rules and regulations. You won’t find anyone else as good.’

Janine knew that.

And she also knew she’d need to apologise to the man.

Even if she didn’t trust him on a strictly personal level, professionally his reputation couldn’t be beaten.

If she wanted a secure future for herself, her daughter, then she needed the best person for the job to work on The Grange.

‘I know. His design is amazing.’

‘I’d say he’s received the message you’re clearly not interested. But we run in the same circles. He’s our friend and so are you. Trust me he’s a very nice guy. Try and work it out with him.’

Bronte was right.

The last thing she’d intended to do was to put her friends in a difficult situation. Bronte and Rosie had been so good to her when she’d needed it most.

‘I’ll fix it.’

After Bronte left, she changed Boo’s diaper, put her down for a sleep and made her way to her office in Sweet Sensation.

Sitting behind her desk, she simply stared at the phone on her desk and wondered how the hell she was going to sort out the mess she’d made of things with Joshua Erichsen.

Chapter Seventeen

Who on earth would want to hurt her father?

Coco sat on a couch as Louise hugged her tight.

He might be one of the most successful men on the planet, but although he was ruthless in business her father was well respected and admired. People looked up to him, listened when he spoke.

Rafe paced speaking in clipped tones into Coco’s cell.

She raised her head as her name was mentioned.

Face dark and ruthless, Rafe moved to Coco’s side and thrust the phone into her hand.

‘It’s your father.’

His strong fingers squeezed her shoulder as she wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand and took a shaky breath.

‘Daddy?’ Her watery voice trembled.

His big voice boomed into her ear.

Squeezing her eyes tightly shut Coco sent up a heartfelt prayer of thanks.

‘Now I don’t want you to worry. It’s a flesh wound, not even a little nick. I’m fine.’

Relief at hearing him larger than life made her lightheaded.

‘I’m coming over.’

‘No point in doing that I won’t be here.’

Confused, she blinked, ran a finger over wet cheeks.

Her mind refused to function.

She cleared her throat.

‘But what... Where are you going?’

‘Geneva.’

Coco stared at a white-faced Louise who was clutching Jezebel to her heart.

Bewildered, she frowned, pressing her fingertips into her skull.

‘Switzerland? But...’ And glanced at Rafe who was watching her like a hawk.

Those eyes were dark with concern and something else she couldn’t identify.

‘Urgent business.’ Her father’s voice sounded gruff and emotional, then he cleared his throat. ‘You do precisely what Rafe says. Promise me, Coco. You’ve got yourself into a pretty pickle and no mistake.’

Coco’s pulse throbbed behind her left eye and she pressed a fingertip to her eyelid.

‘But, what about the police? Surely they...’

‘Got him. One of Kandinsky’s men. A few inches to the left and we wouldn’t be having this conversation. Ethan is going to look after Louise and
you
will do as you’re told. Promise me.’

A few inches? She’d almost lost her father.

‘Oh God, daddy, this is all my fault.’ Her voice broke on a sob.

She should never, ever have got involved with Olivia and her son. If she’d had any idea this could happen... Why did she think they could ever pull it off? Every single time she tried to prove she could live her own life, have her independence, it ended in utter disaster.

‘Coco!’ Her fathers voice booming in her ear made her jolt.

‘Yes, yes, I’ll do exactly as you say, I promise. But...’

He cut her off.

Dazed, she frowned at the phone.

‘Get packed.’ Rafe’s voice was hard, the harsh tone brooking no argument. Her cell rang. ‘I’ll keep this.’ He plucked it out of her hand and took the call.

Her brain seemed stuck in a never-ending loop replaying again and again the words that father had been shot.

Coco simply stared up at Rafe.

‘What?’

‘Get packed,’ he told her before speaking again into the cell and turned his eyes on Louise. ‘Yes, Ethan, she’s here. Yes, I’ll tell her.’

Louise turned to Coco with wide eyes. She was still too pale. But Ethan’s name brought a hot flush over her neck and into her cheeks.

Oh dear heaven Coco thought.

Her brother and Louise?

Together under the same roof?

There would be blood on the carpet.

Too much water had flowed under that particular bridge.

Coco took her friend’s cold hand, gave it a squeeze and turned to Rafe.

‘What’s going on?’

And she leaned away from him as he moved in too close, his eyes flashing pure fire.

‘You’ve placed yourself, your family and your friends in danger. I thought I told you to get packed?’  He turned to Louise. ‘Ethan was already on his way back from the States. He’s bringing a team with him and will arrive within the hour. They’ll stay with you until this thing is resolved.’

‘Where are we going?’ Coco asked, feeling as if the world as she knew it had ceased to exist.

Rafe turned to her again and raised his eyebrows.

With a laser bright gleam in his eye, he pulled her to her feet, took her arm and marched her down the hall.

‘Somewhere no one will find you.’

Feet struggling to keep up with his long stride, Coco tried to think.

‘But...’

‘I won’t tell you a third time.’ Voice hard, the tone cold, he checked his watch. ‘We’re leaving as soon as the helicopter arrives.’

Blood drained from Coco’s face, she actually felt it.

Reality hit her too hard as he marched her into her bedroom.

Her father had almost been killed and it was all her fault.

A wave of nausea swept over her, leaving her freezing cold.

Rafe hauled a large suitcase out of her closet.

On automatic pilot, she sorted through drawers.

He tossed in jeans, T-shirts and her old hiking boots as Coco piled in underwear.

Louise bustled into the room with a backpack and raced into Coco’s bathroom to gather up essentials.

Coco pressed her fingers into her eyelids, this couldn’t be happening.

A wave of agonising guilt swept over her.

‘Here’s your passport just in case.’ Louise thrust it into her hand as Rafe swept out with her suitcase. She grabbed Coco in a bone-crushing hug. ‘I’ve put a satellite phone in the backpack, not even Kandinsky can trace a call on one of those. We can keep in touch with that. I’ll change all the passwords on the systems, reinforce the firewalls.’ She sniffed, her mouth trembling as Coco’s eyes filled. ‘Don’t worry about a thing. We’ll push deadlines back. It’s not a problem.’

Rafe entered, picked up the backpack and grabbed Coco’s arm.

Louise turned to him, her green eyes fierce.

‘Where are you taking her?’

He shook his head.

‘The less people who know the more secure she’ll be.’

‘But...’

‘It’s for her own safety, Louise.’

Coco could see her friend wasn’t happy, but she nodded.

‘Take care of her, do you hear me? If anything, anything, happens to her, you’ll have me to deal with.’

‘Wait,’ Coco said, as he gave her arm a tug. ‘I need shoes.’

She flew to her closet.

Thrust her feet into a pair of sheepskin boots.

The helicopter ride passed in a blur.

In the distance Coco recognised the grand vision of Ludlow Hall as they approached from the air.

Over the years she’d visited many times with Louise, and knew the terrain well since they’d spent happy hours with Bronte and Rosie hiking in the hills.

But instead of landing at the helipad they kept going, over trees and golden fields planted with ripe wheat until they hovered above the Dower house with its swimming pool and outbuildings.

Two expensive cars, Range Rovers in glossy black with tinted windows, were parked next to a helipad.

And next to the cars two men were waiting.

Coco recognised Nico Ferranti and Jacob Del Garda.

When the rotor blades were still, Rafe jumped out and took her hand to help her climb down.

He placed a strong arm around her waist as the men approached.

Nico shook his hand and turned to introduce his companion.

‘Rafe, you met Jacob at Rosie’s wedding.’

They shook hands and Coco had the distinct impression of two sleek panthers, dark, wary, and watchful of the other.

Jacob was incredibly attractive, tall, built and resembled his brother, PR legend Lucas. But where Lucas was approachable and personable, Jacob looked a completely different animal. Cold dark eyes swept over her, rested on the way Rafe held her before his gaze locked on hers. Deadly was her first thought, but then he blinked and the look disappeared.

He took her hand.

‘You did a brave thing,
querida.
Brave, but foolish.’

Before she could respond, Nico had her wrapped in a bruising hug.

Then he leaned back. His hand tipped up her chin as he studied her face, her hair, before he shook his head.

‘You are worse than Rosie for getting yourself into trouble,
cara mia.
Welcome.’

Tears stung her eyes and Coco blinked frantically to clear them.

She looked around at the beautiful gardens, the stunning home.

‘Where’s Bronte and...’

Nico’s hands gently cupped her face forcing her to look at him and she saw the truth in those dark eyes.

‘She is working from Sweet Sensations today. I have not told her of this. I will not put her in harms way. Do you understand?’

Of course she did.

But guilt hit her too hard and so did a feeling of panic that her life was spiralling out of control.

‘I don’t need to be here. I can go...’

Nico shook his head.

‘We have a newly completed cabin designed for honeymooners a couple of miles from here. The security system is linked to The Hall. No one can approach the private road to the property without alerting our team. You will be safe there as long as you take precautions. No cell phone or email contact with the outside world until this matter is resolved. If all goes well you will see Bronte soon.’

Now Nico released her and turned to Rafe.

‘Our team will with work with yours. Any issues, you have my number.’

‘There will not be issues,’ Jacob’s deep voice interrupted Rafe’s response. ‘I have experience of such things. As long as Coco stays within the perimeter of the property and does as she is told she will be safe.’

Reaction was setting in now as the truth of her situation hit Coco too hard.

Her legs went weak as Rafe tucked her into the back seat of a Range Rover, snapped on the seatbelt and closed the door.

He took the front passenger seat while Nico drove.

Jacob followed behind.

The drive up a dirt track through thick woods was a short one before the road rose sharply and they climbed until they came to a narrow track. Nico swung the car round a hairpin bend and there, tucked behind a hill was a jaw-droppingly beautiful cabin made of plate glass and thick beams of solid oak. A sweeping decked area led to an incredible swimming pool carved out of rock.

Coco slid out of the vehicle.

They were high in the hills surrounding Ludlow Hall.

Silence was the first thing that struck her.

As did the reality that she’d be totally alone here, with Rafe.

The men unloaded the vehicles.

Nico showed Rafe how the house worked, while Coco wandered through an open plan kitchen, living space, which led out into gardens alive with summer colour.

But the beauty of the spot was totally wasted on her.

How the hell had everything gone so badly wrong?

After saying goodbye to Nico and Jacob, Coco left Rafe in the kitchen making coffee and wandered through to the beautiful sitting area.

She should have insisted on going to see her father she thought now as she curled up on a fabulous linen couch the colour of clotted cream. She needed to see him, to make sure for herself that he was as well as he sounded.

Rafe handed her a drink.

‘I should have gone to him,’ she muttered into the cup.

‘That would not have been smart thinking,’ Rafe said, his deep voice firm as he sat opposite her, stretching out long legs.

Under the circumstances he looked calm and terribly controlled. But then he’d been in the Special Forces and was probably used to dealing with this sort of thing.

‘What do you mean?’

‘Kandinsky’s in a hurry. He doesn’t have time to look for you. This was an attempt to flush you out, bring you to him.’ His voice was still cool, but the tone didn’t sound as harsh as before.

She frowned as the sense of the argument struck her.

Eyes glued to his, she placed her cup on a glass coffee table, leaned forward.

‘How do you know all this?’ she asked, her voice no more than a whisper.

‘According to the police it’s his modus operandi.’