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CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
BASTIENTOSSEDHIS keys on the dining room table of the beach house and slumped with his head in his hands. How did this go from the best week of his life to the worst? He’d lost his sister’s fiancé. He’d lost the woman of his dreams. And now he was going to have to call Kitty before he called the police to report a missing person and let her know that Jace and his crew could be in Cuba right now for all he knew.
This was a disaster.
But what truly hurt was Mikelina. Pulling out his cell phone, he opened up the private investigator’s report, hoping that the information would have changed. But it hadn’t. The owner of the beach house was Mikelina Presley.
The reason why her stuff was in the attic was this was her house. It used to be her parents’ place, but that was before Tanner Presley screwed a lot of people out of a lot of money and Tawny Presley decided to cut bait and screw around with real estate mogul Kirk Diamonte. It only stood to reason that Mikelina was in the market for a rich husband, too, to help pay the taxes on the beach house. Whether it was him or Jace, he wasn’t sure.
He laughed without humor. He must be a magnet for gold diggers. The funny thing was, though, if she sold the damned house, she’d have more money than he did. And what really hurt was if he hadn’t found out she’d been chatting up Jace, Bastien probably would have married her within the year. He was that head over heels in love with her.
He tried not to think of how her eyes filled with tears or how her lips trembled when they fought. He refused to feel guilty about it. She had lied to him. If she really wasn’t like her father, she would have told him the truth about where that asshole Jace was and that Jace had been talking to her more than he’d been talking to Kitty these last few days.
A loud thump from upstairs caught his attention. Then seconds later, another thump came as if the other proverbial shoe had dropped.
“Jace?” he called.
It seemed too good to be true, but it was too quiet to be him and the groomsmen. The alarm had been set, so an intruder seemed unlikely. Maybe it was Mikelina? Maybe she hadn’t left yet.
Bastien swallowed hard. Did he even want to see her? He crept up the stairs, still not sure of the answer, but he was leaning toward yes. He should have let her explain why she lied to him and kept Jace’s location a secret. Not to mention, she let him think she was a homeless waif living from paycheck to paycheck in crappy hotels. He had been worried about her, damn it.
When he reached the common room, he heard creaking noises coming from Jace’s bedroom. No. Hell no. It couldn’t be. He wouldn’t be dumb enough to bring a hooker or stripper back here. But Bastien recognized the rhythmic cadence of bedsprings and when Jace let out a low moan, Bastien saw red. What if he was with Mikelina?
Bastien kicked the door open.
“You son of a bitch. I’ll kill you.” It felt good to have a direction for the rage and sorrow he felt. He barely registered the two bodies diving for cover. Striding into the room, he reached for Jace.
“Bastien, you prick!”
He blinked as Kitty clutched the bedsheet to her naked body.
“Get out! You’re ruining my honeymoon.”
Bastien hurried out of the room and slammed the door. There was not enough brain bleach in the world to cleanse his eyes of that sight.
What the hell was Kitty doing here?
What the hell did she mean, honeymoon?
His phone buzzed. He looked down and saw a text message from his sister.
Get out. Don’t come back until 8.
At eight o’clock on the dot, Bastien came back into the house to find that Zack, Shane and Max were also there. As well as all of Kitty’s bridesmaids. Well, why not? Dance music was playing at a normal volume and everyone was sitting around the pool while Jace grilled up what looked like all the food in the refrigerator.
Kitty was lounging in the chair with a drink in one hand and taking cell phone pictures with the other. “You need to learn to knock,” she said, taking his picture.
He flipped her the bird.
He noticed she was wearing the larimar jewelry that Mikelina had sent her. A pang of hurt lanced through him and he flopped down into the chair next to her. Snagging her drink, he drained it in one long gulp.
“I never want to see his skinny ass like that again.” Bastien pointed to Jace.
“Works for me, bro,” Jace said and flipped a few burgers.
Max came over with the bottle of Gentlemen Jack and a bottle of Coke. He even brought over a glass for Bastien and filled it with the whiskey.
“Don’t you dare,” he said to Max when he went to pour the soda on top.
