Stormy Vows - Iris Johansen [59]
“What a domestic scene. It really touches my paternal heart.” The tone was sarcastic and the voice was that of Paul Chadeaux.
Brenna looked up, shocked, her face paling as she realized it really was Chadeaux standing before her, sartorically perfect in a dark blue lounge suit, his gray eyes ugly.
“What are you doing here? Who let you in?” she asked hoarsely.
Chadeaux sat down on the lounge chair opposite her and answered coolly, “Your housekeeper was very obliging. I explained that I was a friend of yours, and she told me to go right on through to the terrace.”
It was an understandable error, Brenna thought numbly. Chadeaux was well dressed and personable, and Mrs. Haskins was accustomed to a constant flow of guests coming and going in this house.
Chadeaux was gazing critically at the golden-haired baby playing contentedly in the sandbox. “He's a good-looking kid,” he said impersonally. “He has the Chadeaux coloring.”
“Many children are very blond when they are young,” Brenna answered coolly. “Their color frequently darkens as they grow older.”
He shot her a poisonous glance. “You have all the answers, don't you? You and those smart-alec lawyers your husband turned loose on me. It was pretty clever of you to put a noose around Donovan, and get him to do your dirty work.”
Brenna's lips tightened. “We have nothing further to talk about, Paul,” she said tersely. “Please leave.”
Chadeaux smiled nastily. “You think you've won, don't you, little sister? Well, don't count on it,” he said. “Donovan may have enough clout to put a spoke in my wheel, but I'm not about to be beaten by some upstart movie mogul.” His face twisted balefully.
“You have no choice in the matter,” Brenna said, moistening her lips nervously.
“You're wrong. There's always an angle; you just have to find it.” Chadeaux's gray eyes were narrowed and sly. “And I've figured the angle, little sister. It's all very simple.” He rose lazily to his feet. “You and I and junior, over there, are going on a little trip. We're going to a nice private place where the two of us can ‘negotiate.’”
She stared at him incredulously. “We're not going anywhere with you,” she said flatly. “Why should we?”
“Because I'm a desperate man, little sister,” he said venomously. “The men to whom I owe money are not very understanding of custody battles and legal delays. If I don't produce their money by next Tuesday, I'm in big trouble.”
He reached out and grabbed her wrist brutally, jerking her to her feet. “Get the kid. We're leaving right now!”
She struggled futilely in an attempt to break his hold. “You're crazy,” she said furiously. “Do you think you can just drag us out of here? Do you think I won't fight you? All I have to do is call and Mrs. Haskins or one of the servants will be right here.”
Chadeaux's grip tightened agonizingly on her wrist, and she cried out in pain. “But you won't call,” he said menacingly. “Because you have a certain fondness for that sweet little tyke of mine.”
Brenna could feel the blood drain from her face as she stared at him in horror. “What do you mean?” she whispered hoarsely, her eyes wide and frightened.
“Children are very vulnerable,” he said softly, and his gaze traveled significantly to the swimming pool a few yards away.
“My God! What kind of monster are you?” she said, fear making her sick. “He's your own child.”
“I told you I was desperate,” he snarled. “I'm not stupid enough to murder the little brat, but I'm not above making him quite uncomfortable if I have to.” He smiled unpleasantly. “But I'm not going to have to do that, am I, Brenna? You couldn't stand knowing that you're to blame for causing the little angel any pain, could you?”
“No, you mustn't hurt him,” Brenna said sharply. “I'll go