“Alex. Quelle co?ncidence que nous sommes ici ensemble. But perhaps I should be speaking English to you. Impressive for an American to convince everyone around her that she was French. Me included. Alex Lemoine, interesting name, more beautiful perhaps than Alexandra Northrop, but not as prestigious as the missing heiress to the Oak fortune.”
Lemoine. The name had made sense eight years before. Her favorite artist in the Boston Museum of Fine Arts, Jacques-Antoine-Marie Lemoine, provided her with a cover for her simple life working for the auction houses and living in a flat by Saint-Germain. When Luc, a handsome and mysterious art broker, had offered Alex extra income for a few short assignments, the naive girl jumped at the opportunity. She’d escaped a controlling father only to become trapped by an even more controlling lover.
His arm reached around her shoulders, and he pulled her close. If only she had Henry’s gun right now, she could end this faster than the speed of sound. She did, however, have the knife and a close proximity to her target.
He switched back to French. “I’m disappointed in you. Running away, hiding your identity. You’ll be punished. Or perhaps we should punish one of your newly discovered relations instead.”
She refused to speak. What was the point? Action would help her more. She dropped her sneakers and bag in the sand.
Reaching for the knife with as much stealth as she could muster, she turned toward him. The handle warmed in her grip, the blade pointed toward her target. She thrust it at his heart. She moved fast enough to hit his rib, but without enough force to penetrate the beating organ that only pretended to love her.
“Bitch.” Luc grabbed for the knife. Alex waved it in front of him, making a dangerous target for a hand to grasp.
Tightening her grip, she took another swing, but he was prepared and threw his hand into her face to push her away. The impact knocked her back and sent a shot of pain through her nose. Her eyes stung and began to water, obstructing her vision.
Focus on the goal. Protect the family.
She stepped toward him again, swinging her arm without pause, creating a better chance at hitting him and preventing him from grabbing it. He moved like a dancer near a limbo stick. He was also bleeding through his shirt.
Oh my God, he was too fast and too strong.
She thrust toward his face, but Luc caught her wrist. Before he had time to gloat, she grabbed the knife with her other hand and tried to stab his neck.
“Enough.” He pulled the arm in his grasp back hard. The force caused her to lose her balance.
This time, he held both of her wrists, kicked out her legs from under her, and fell on top of her. The body weight crushed down on her and pinned her on the sand. She continued to struggle, but one of his hands freed and pulled her hair until she released the knife. He tossed it toward the water. Searing pain burned her scalp. Tears fell across her cheeks.
His mouth covered hers to muffle any cry for help. She tried to bite him, but he went on the offense and took hold of her upper lip with his teeth until she stopped moving her head. Her heart beat rapidly against his chest. Luc’s fierce presence muddled her brain, preventing her from thinking of a way out of her predicament.
She was out of breath and exhausted. He lifted his head up, and Alex saw in his eyes the flaming rage of a man who’d just fought for his life.
Despite his heavy breathing, he spoke with a chilling control that would offer no quarter to the woman under him. “Remember this, Alexandra Northrop, I will kill each and every member of your family if you ever try to hurt me again. Do you understand?”
Her nod was impeded by his hand over her windpipe.
Luc permitted her to sit up while he retrieved her weapon. He then buttoned his jacket to cover the blood leeching through his shirt.
The children farther down the beach had stopped and stared at them. Two women who may have been her sisters hustled the children into the house.
Soon, the beach was empty except for a security guard dressed in black walking toward them. Did he work for her family? They’d never had much security when she was younger. Perhaps Anna received her warning, and her father increased their presence. Thank God she had help on the way. If he could occupy Luc’s attention, she could get to the house and warn her family.
Luc pulled her to her feet, placed his arm around her and squeezed. The pressure hurt her ribs, but she didn’t make a noise. They both limped away from the shore and toward a row of tall dune grass that blocked the view to the house. The security guard followed. She didn’t dare make an escape attempt. Yet.
The man, older with graying temples and wisdom in his eyes, was enormous compared to Luc. A hero worthy of taking down her enemy. He approached with his hand resting on a revolver hooked to his belt. “This beach is private. I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
Alex licked her dry lips and tasted blood. The guard had to notice, because his eyes narrowed on Luc and then flicked back toward her. “Are you all right, ma’am?”
“We’re leaving,” Luc replied, but Alex dug her heels firmly into the sand and braced herself. “Let’s not make a scene, chérie,” Luc added.
Take a chance with her family or go with Luc where he could torture her and still place her family at risk? She pulled away from Luc to get to the guard, but he tightened his hold on her.
“I need to see my father, Peter Northrop.” She tried to break free of Luc’s grip, but he held firm, his blood now seeping through his blazer and dripping onto her arm.
The guard reached for his weapon.