Transformed Into The Frenchman’s Mistress Read online

  Alec nodded. “That he is.”

  “You think they’ll have an affair?”

  “Rumor has it they already are,” said Alec. “Though that rumor may have been started by Kiefer.”

  Charlotte laughed. “I think I’m starting to like Kiefer.”

  “You be careful of Kiefer.” There was a serious note in Alec’s tone that caused Charlotte to twist to look him in the eyes again.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean Kiefer has a way with women.”

  “And you don’t?” She glanced down at her naked body, the twisted sheets, the comforter that had been kicked off the bed an hour ago. If she needed to be careful of anybody here, it was Alec.

  “I hear your father’s due tomorrow.” Alec changed the subject. She didn’t blame him. What more was there to say?

  “I heard that Lars has a few more days of second-unit work,” said Charlotte. “But they want to start rehearsals for the major scenes.”

  “Will it bother you?”

  “The major scenes?” Charlotte expected it to become even more chaotic at the château. But they’d known this was coming.

  “Seeing your father. Is it worse than seeing Jack?”

  “It’s nowhere near the same,” said Charlotte, burrowing farther beneath the sheet to combat a growing chill from the open window.

  Alec reached to the floor and retrieved the comforter, spreading it over both of them.

  “Thanks.” She sighed as their body heat formed a warm cocoon.

  “Your father?” Alec prompted.

  “It’s funny,” she admitted. “I think I always knew David was a terrible father. Even when my mom was alive, he was never around. When she died, I honestly thought it would be Jack who took care of me.”

  “How old was Jack?”

  “Nine. But he seemed very worldly wise. He used to pour me juice, make me sandwiches and read me bedtime stories.” She smiled wistfully at the memory.

  “And then he abandoned you.”

  “No, he didn’t.” She knew none of it had been Jack’s fault. “But for years, I expected him to come and get me. I don’t know what I thought, that he’d turn eleven, get a paper route and we’d live happily ever after. Pretty absurd, huh?”

  Alec straightened the comforter around her. “You were a little girl.”

  “Who took a very long time to wake up to reality.”

  “Do you think you might be angry with him?”

  She shook her head. “I missed him. That was all.” She still missed him. She wanted a brother, and what she had was an acquaintance.

  “Tell me about you and Raine.” Charlotte knew she should go back to her own room before anyone else got home, but she didn’t want to leave. She didn’t want it to end just yet. “Did you protect her? Tease her? Gang up with her against your parents?”

  Alec chuckled. “I was Raine’s worst night-”

  A deafening boom shook the château. Orange flames lit up the sky. Alec instantly threw himself on top of Charlotte, bracing her protectively against the bed.

  “What the hell?” he ground out, glancing to the window behind him.

  Charlotte blinked at the fire, smoke and ash rising toward the dark sky.

  “You okay?” he demanded.

  Her ears were ringing, and she’d experienced an adrenaline shot strong enough to stun an ox, but she nodded jerkily.

  Alec sprang from the bed, crossing to the window while he stuffed his legs into his slacks. “Good God. One of the trailers is on fire.”

  “It blew up?” Charlotte stated the obvious as she clambered out of bed herself, glancing around for her dress and shoes.

  He dialed his cell phone with one hand, pulling his dress shirt on with the other as he headed for the bedroom door. There, he paused. “Will you be all right?”

  “I’ll be fine,” she called. She could hear sirens in the distance, and people were shouting down on the lawn.

  She prayed that nobody had been hurt. But the sirens were getting closer, and the shouts were getting louder. She struggled into her dress and into her shoes, then she clattered down the stairs to find out if she could help.

  The front lawn looked like a disaster zone. Staff members and crew rushed to the aid of those lying on the ground. Alec was in the middle, shouting to his staff to bring blankets and first aid, while helping the gardeners to set up hoses to soak the semitrailers and a small cottage that were next to the fire.

  Charlotte stopped, unsure of what to do.

  She glanced at the man next to her. His face was black with soot, and he was cradling his left arm, his sleeve covered in blood.

  “You’re hurt,” she stated, moving closer.

  He looked down at his arm. “It’s just a cut.”

  “Anything else?” She gingerly supported him on the uninjured side, helping him to the porch where he could sit down.

  “It was the FX trailer,” he rasped.

  She separated the torn sleeve, revealing a long, deep cut on his forearm.

  “They were getting the pyrotechnics ready for the battle scene.” The man seemed to be in shock.

  Charlotte’s gaze shifted involuntarily to the burning trailer. Alec was silhouetted against the flames. The fire trucks arrived, and he signaled them forward, clearing people out of their path as the firefighters jumped down and began connecting hoses.

  If anybody had been inside…

  A member of the housekeeping staff appeared, and Charlotte quickly latched on to a couple of towels and a bottle of water. She soaked one towel, carefully cleaning around the wound. Then she pressed the other towel against the cut, applying pressure to stop the bleeding.

  “Am I hurting you?” she asked.

  The man barely shook his head, his attention fixed on the firefighters and the approaching ambulances.

  The attendants ran to a couple of people lying on the ground, and Charlotte wasn’t sure whether she should flag them down.

  “I can wait,” the man said, guessing her thoughts.

  “Are you sure?” The towel was soaking up a lot of blood.

  “Charlotte?” It was Raine’s voice.

  Charlotte looked into Raine’s stark expression.

  “What happened? We just got back-”

  “Can you get us a paramedic?”

  Raine’s gaze jumped to the injured man. “Of course.”

  She scooted across the lawn in her skirt and high heels. She stopped a woman in uniform and pointed to Charlotte. The woman grabbed a black case and trotted toward them.

  “Thank you,” said Charlotte as the woman knelt down.

  “I’m fine,” said the man.

  “Let’s take a quick look,” said the attendant, swiftly removing the towel.

  She opened the case and retrieved gauze, disinfectant and medical tape.

  “I’ll be sending you in for some stitches,” she told the man.

  He simply nodded, looking exhausted.

  “What happened?” Raine repeated.

  “The FX trailer blew up,” Charlotte told her.

  Raine’s voice went hushed. “Anybody inside?”

  Charlotte looked to the ambulance attendant.

  The woman shrugged.

  “We made it out,” said the man, and all three women looked at him.

  “We…” His eyelids fluttered rapidly, and the blood drained from his face.

  “Mon dieu.” The attendant quickly laid him prone, raising his feet. “Shock,” she told them, then lifted her radio mic. “Etienne? Can you bring a stretcher?”

  Her radio crackled something unintelligible in response.

  “Have you seen Alec?” asked Raine as the stretcher clattered toward them.

  “He was hosing down buildings.” Charlotte peered into the gloom. The trailer was beaten down to a glowing pile of rubble. The other trailers and the shed were still standing. The lawn was a mud bog, and the surrounding flower beds were completely in ruins.

  Charlotte’s stomach turne
d hollow. She was causing the destruction of Alec’s home. “I can’t believe this,” she whispered.

  “Freak accident,” said Raine, gazing around.

  The man with the stretcher came to a halt.

  “Fatalities?” asked the female attendant, attracting Charlotte and Raine’s attention.

  The man shook his head. “It sounds like there were three people in the trailer. They all got out. One broken arm. One concussion. Some superficial burns. And this one.” He nodded to the man who was still unconscious on the porch.

  “He’ll need some stitches. We should start an IV and get a blood-pressure reading.”

  The two counted off, hoisting the man onto the stretcher, securing straps and hooking up tubes.

  “He’s going to be fine,” the female attendant told Charlotte.

  “Thank you.” Too bad the same couldn’t be said for Alec’s front yard.

  “It’s not your fault,” said Raine as they wheeled the man away.

  “I promised him nothing would go wrong.”

  “Did you set off the explosion?”

  “No.”

  “Then Alec will understand.”

  Charlotte watched Alec talking to the fire chief. His hands were waving, his face contorted and he was talking fast and emphatically. He didn’t look as if he understood much of anything.

  “We can replant the flowers,” said Raine. “Haul away the rubble.”

  “Fire me,” said Charlotte with a sigh of defeat. She really didn’t want to face Alec’s anger, particularly after she’d seen such a very different side of him.

  “You’re a volunteer,” Raine pointed out. “I don’t think we can fire you.”

  “Do you think he’ll back out of the deal?” Butterflies formed in Charlotte’s stomach as Alec started toward them, eyes hard, mouth pulled in a grim line.

  “I think we’re about to find out,” said Raine.

  Charlotte moved slightly closer to Raine for protection as Alec marched ominously toward them. Her heart rate seemed to increase with every step he took. His hands were dirty, his clothing soaked to his skin, and his face was streaked with soot and sweat.

  He looked ruggedly sexy. Except for the scowl. Okay, even with the scowl, he looked sexy. She was hopeless.

  He came to a halt. “No one was seriously hurt.”

  “I’m so sorry,” said Charlotte.

  Alec’s eyes narrowed, and she assumed it was going to take a whole lot more than an apology.

  “Do they know what happened?” asked Raine.

  “Some kind of electrical malfunction with the pyrotechnics. It’s going to put them behind schedule.” He glanced around in disgust, and Charlotte figured the movie schedule was hardly his first concern.

  He looked to Charlotte. “Can I talk to you alone?”

  “It’s not her fault,” Raine jumped in.

  Alec gave his sister a look that questioned her sanity.

  Charlotte supposed it was her fault. And she didn’t blame Alec for being angry. She was ready to face the music. But she was sorely disappointed at having let the Hudsons down.

  Alec reached for her arm, then he seemed to remember his filthy hands, because he pulled back, nodding toward a quiet corner of the porch.

  “I feel terrible,” she began as soon as they were out of earshot. “I should have thought about security. I should have thought about safety-”

  “I need to ask,” said Alec, coming to a halt, turning to face her. He didn’t look angry. In fact, he looked concerned.

  “What?” she asked bravely, watching his expression closely.

  “What happened earlier-between us.”

  Ahh. Now she got it. She shifted gears. This was the it-was-a-good-time speech, the we’re-both-adults speech, the no-expectations speech.

  Okay. She was prepared for that. They were both adults, and neither of them were under any illusions.

  Charlotte squared her shoulders. “You don’t have to say it, Alec. I understand. And I agree with you completely.” They’d go on as if nothing had happened. If he’d let them stay and complete the movie, that was a huge win for her. She wasn’t going to sit around and cry over a one-night stand.

  Well, maybe she’d cry a bit. But only because it was such an incredible one-night stand. It would have been nice for it to be two nights or three. But that wasn’t the way Alec operated. Or so she’d read in the tabloids.

  “You agree with me?” he asked.

  She nodded. “And it’ll stay our secret.”

  He folded his arms over his wet shirt. “We already established that.”

  “Right.” She nodded. “Of course we did.” So what was left to talk about?

  “What I wanted to ask you…” He glanced around. Then he moved in closer. “Do you want to do it again?”

  Charlotte blinked. “I don’t understand.”

  He moved closer still. “I don’t dare even touch you out here, never mind pull you into my arms and kiss you. But I’m asking, do you want to make love with me again?”

  “And finish the movie?”

  “What does one have to do with the other?”

  “Well, I’m here because of the filming, and now we’ve destroyed your yard.”

  He glanced over her shoulder. “They did a pretty good job of that.”

  “Are you kicking us out?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  He sighed. “Do you have any idea how hard it is for me to stand here and keep my hands off you?”

  Charlotte had a pretty good idea, since she was fighting the same battle to keep her hands off him. She smiled.

  He frowned in return. “Answer the damn question.”

  “Yes.”

  “Good.”

  “Raine is staring at us.”

  “You let me worry about Raine.”

  Six

  Charlotte changed out of her dress and took a long, hot shower. Afterward, she was still too keyed up to sleep. It was past midnight, but people were still working in the yard. Equipment roared to life, and a few firefighters stood by the smoking rubble with shovels and a hose.

  She slipped into a pair of jeans and a short T-shirt, stuffing her feet into a pair of low sandals and pulling her damp hair into a simple ponytail.

  Maybe she could find some brandy in the kitchen. A strong drink might help her sleep.

  She padded down two flights of stairs, past the film sets in the entryway and the great room, along the hall toward the back of the house. She heard voices through the open door of a library.

  Alec, Kiefer, Jack, Lars and three other crew members sat around a large table.

  “David will be here in the morning to do an assessment,” said Jack, slipping his cell phone into his pocket.

  “We’ll lose two shooting days at least,” said Lars with a scowl. “Somebody’s ass is on the-”

  “I can pull a construction crew off the project in Toulouse,” Kiefer said to Alec.

  Charlotte cringed. Alec had been clear that none of his employees were to be impacted.

  “I don’t think it’s necessary to fire anyone,” said Alec, staring directly at Lars. “Seems to me you’re going to need all the skilled labor you can find.”

  The three crew members stilled, and Lars’s mouth worked as his face went ruddy. “How is it any of your-”

  “It’s my yard that was burned to a crisp,” said Alec. “And I don’t intend it to become a permanent movie set.”

  “We move on,” said Jack, nodding in Alec’s direction, clearly overruling Lars. “Accidents happen.”

  It was the first time Charlotte had seen her brother pull rank. Maybe it was because she didn’t particularly like Lars. Or maybe it was because he was backing Alec. But she was proud of Jack.

  Alec caught sight of her. He gave her a little smile and motioned her in, indicating an empty chair next to him.

  “The construction crew?” Kiefer asked Alec.

  “If we can spare them,” said Alec, letti
ng his thigh come to rest against Charlotte’s as she sat down. He had also changed, into a pair of black slacks and a royal-blue, pin-striped dress shirt. He hadn’t bothered with a tie, and she discovered she liked the casual look on him.

  “Send me the bill,” Jack told Kiefer.

  Kiefer gave him a nod.

  Lars was silent and sullen, his jaw clenched where he’d pulled back from the table.

  One of the other crew members flipped through a clipboard. “If we switch scenes thirty-five and sixteen, and move up the party sequence, we can make up some time,” he said.

  “Can you get the extras in tomorrow?” asked Jack.

  “On it,” said the man, making a notation.

  “The story editor isn’t finished with thirty-five,” said Lars.

  “He has eight hours to get finished,” said Jack.

  “Unacceptable,” Lars retorted.

  “You want to duke it out with David tomorrow?” asked Jack, a tightness around his mouth. “Because I’m not about to tell a man coming off a string of low-budget independents that our story editor is a prima donna.”

  Alec leaned over to Charlotte and whispered, “I think Jack has this well in hand.”

  She tried not to smile. She’d always assumed Jack’s laid-back persona meant he wasn’t as strong as some of those around him. He might disguise it, but her brother seemed to have a backbone of steel.

  “Charlotte?” came Raine’s voice from the doorway.

  Charlotte guiltily snapped her leg away from Alec’s and pushed back her chair.

  “I was looking for you,” she said to Raine, coming to her feet. She crossed the room without looking back. “I was hoping to find some brandy,” she told Raine in an undertone.

  “Right this way,” said Raine, pointing to the kitchen. She was still wearing the kicky little black skirt with a fitted, purple tank top. Charlotte couldn’t help wondering what Raine had been doing for the past hour.

  She settled into a breakfast nook, while Raine rattled through a cabinet.

  The bay window faced east, so the destruction of the front yard was out of sight. The moon was full, the stars in multiple layers. Pot lights outlined a few of the garden pathways, and the pool was just visible down the slope, beyond an oleander hedge.

  “I know I won’t sleep, either,” said Raine, curling onto the semicircular bench seat across from Charlotte. She set down a bottle of cognac and two thin crystal snifters.