Once in Paris by Diana Palmer Page B

“I asked for that one,” she murmured through her chuckles.
    He laughed with her. He’d never known anyone like Brianne. She was changing him, changing his life, his world. She made the sun come out again, brought back the rainbows. He didn’t dare consider the implications of what he was feeling. He turned away and went to find Arthur to tell him to bring the car around, so that he could drive them back into Nassau.
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    In the weeks that followed, Brianne became Pierce’s shadow. To her stepfather’s dismay, she kept a mile away from his friend Philippe Sabon and spent so much time with Pierce that rumors began to abound. They were seen together everywhere, fishing and swimming and just sunbathing. Mostly they did the latter at Pierce’s house, but occasionally they went to the beach.
    The companionship they shared was as rare as the humor that bound them together. Pierce didn’t realize how necessary Brianne was beginning to be to him, but the hours he spent alone brooding over Margo were dwindling with time. He looked forward to Brianne’s wry insight on the world around them, to her savvy sense of politics. For a young woman, she had a mature outlook. He was impressed with her. More than impressed. He didn’t mind her constant presence in his house.
    But Kurt did. Things came to a head when Philippe sailed into port on his yacht to see Brianne and she wasn’t at home. Worse, his private detective had a very thorough report of where she’d been most recently.
    Sabon’s rage was all the more intimidating for being quiet. He glowered at Kurt, his black eyes flashing, his lean fists clenched at his side. “You know that your stepdaughter has become special to me,” he began. “I have even told you that my plans for her might include marriage. Yet you have permitted her to practicallylive with Hutton. What must I do to keep her around when I wish to see her, kidnap her?”
    Kurt held up a hand, his face worried. “No, you have it all wrong. You have the medical report,” he said quickly, wary of his wife’s presence somewhere nearby. He didn’t want her to hear this. “I assure you, the girl is fastidious, chaste, regardless of the time she spends with Hutton!”
    Sabon didn’t speak for a moment. His eyes caught every nuance of expression in the other man’s face, from the fear that made him pale to the greed that made his eyes hot. Brauer had no idea at all of his real plans, or his true desire. He had made certain of it. The man’s cooperation was essential at this point. He had to ensure it any way that he could.
    â€œI know how badly you need my help,” he told Kurt coolly. “I have had your financial assets examined most thoroughly. If I should back out now, before the oil is discovered and processed, and replace you with someone else, you would be left destitute, would you not?”
    Kurt swallowed. He was in over his head, with no way out. The man knew too much. “Yes, I would,” he confessed heavily. He drew out a spotless white handkerchief and wiped hissweaty forehead. “I have no option but to go right through to the end. But this business about involving the United States—I don’t know. I don’t know if it will work.”
    Sabon’s thin lips pursed thoughtfully. “Of course it will.” He studied Brauer. “I have told you that I think a marriage between Brianne and myself might be advantageous for both of us. A…seal on our agreement.”
    â€œMarriage.” Kurt’s greedy eyes glittered as he turned the thought over in his mind. Sabon had millions. He was supposedly one of the wealthiest men in the world. He would certainly take care of his wife’s relations. Even if the oil deal fell through, Kurt would have all the money he needed, without having to fall back on his usual means of making money—a tricky enterprise these days, with so