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Dean came with food, a change of clothes, and a big bottle of water. Everyone was taking my dehydration scare seriously.
Marcella had come by the boulangerie before she left for San Francisco and read me the riot act about taking care of her grandchild. Duncan all but counted the deciliters I drank each day, and Dean and Thierry helped him.
It took a couple of hours before we got an update on Dom's condition. The surgery was successful, and he was stable, but he would need time to recover. Relief washed over us, and we thanked the doctors profusely.
Since I had lied to the hospital officials and told them I was Dom's sister, they let me in to see him. Duncan came along because I was ahaplesspregnant woman and needed my husband.Whatever!
Dom was still unconscious. I hated to see him like this but I was ever grateful to him for saving my baby's and my life. I kissed his forehead and thanked him.
"You sure he'll be okay here?" I asked.
"Yes."
"Can we come see him tomorrow?"
"He's not going to be here much longer," Duncan said cryptically.
"What does that mean?"
"That means someone will move him to the US Embassy before those pesky cops show up to talk to him."
"And what about the conversation they want to have with me?" I wondered as we walked out of Dom's room.
"They're going to be stalled."
"They are?"
"Yes," he said supremely confident in his ability to manipulate the police.
"Until when?" I asked.
"Until I can get Pascal Fournier out of the picture," Duncan said ominously.
Chapter 34
Duncan
Igave Elsa two choices; one, we close her place down, or second, she could hire someone to do the heavy lifting.
With very little grace, she went with option two and hired a baker. This meant that she didn't have to wake up at the butt crack of dawn, and Thierry had time to do whatever the hell he did when he wasn't at Délices d'Elsa.
Lisset, in her late thirties and an expert baker, ran the boulangerie with the same precision and eye for quality as Elsa. Even though Lisset worked full-time, my wife still spent much of the day at Délices d'Elsa—which meant I was there for most of the day too. If I had to leave, Thierry or Dean stayed with her. We also had a two-man security detail for her, something I made clear was non-negotiable.
I did enjoy sayingnon, every time she complained about them.
She was chatting with Lisset when I finally heard back from Vincent Arsenault.
He hadn't been my first choice to turn for help, but my first choice was hidden away in the US Embassy with no contact with the outside world, and I couldn't wait. As an Archer, I knew where and how to make alliances.
I'd asked Elsa if I could trust Vincent right after the shooting incident.
She looked at me quizzically. "He thinks of me as a sister, Duncan," she snapped, "I don't understand why you think I want other men. I am twenty hundred weeks pregnant. I don't want to have sex with anyone."
Lies.
She was horny as hell, and the number of times I'd had her rub against me in bedaftershe pushed away the pillow wall she put between us was proof of that. Just this morning, I'd made her come in the shower, and she'd looked beautiful, spent, and soft. Five minutes later, she was back to being pissed off with me and the world in general.
I understood the battle she was facing. She had forgiven me for trying to use her, for not shielding her from what Dom wanted from her. But she was having trouble forgetting it. Her biggest fear was that I'd be like her father and try to use our child. That hurt like a motherfucker. She really thought I was as much of a bastard as Jean-Luc Moreau, head of the French mafia?
