Masquerade by Janet Dailey Read Free Book Online

urgently needed at home, that there was some kind of trouble.
    Sighing, she turned to gaze out the window and looked blindly at the ocher buildings they passed. As the gardened boulevard made a curve, she recognized that they were traveling down the Avenue Félix Faure, approaching the Espace Masséna. Tensing slightly, she straightened in her seat, waiting for that first glimpse of it.
    Then, there it was, the towering sprays of its sparkling fountains visible through a break in the row of shade trees and slender cypress, and the grinning face of the giant papier-mâché King of Carnival peering down from his alfresco throne. She scanned the stand of trees by the sidewalk, wondering which one she'd struck her head against. At the same time, she couldn't help thinking how beautifully serene the square looked with only a scattering of people strolling its landscaped walks.
    Belatedly she noticed that Cole had stopped the car at a pedestrian crosswalk. A woman walked in front of them, pushing a baby stroller. Smoothly he shifted the car into drive, and they rolled forward again. A moment later she was surprised when he failed to turn at the next intersection and continued straight ahead onto the Avenue de Verdun instead.
    "If you had turned back there, we could have taken a better route to the airport and avoided all this traffic"
    "I know," he said, slowing the car to make the turn onto the palm-lined Promenade des Anglais.
    "Then why are we going this way?" She frowned. "I thought you said at the hospital we were flying directly to New Orleans."
    "We are—as soon as I eliminate the problem with your passport."
    "What problem with my passport?"
    "You don't have one . . . yet. Hopefully it will be waiting for us when we arrive at the hotel."
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    Minutes later he pulled up in front of the entrance to the Hotel Negresco. A plume-hatted doorman in a scarlet-lined blue cloak and high, shiny boots stepped forward and opened the passenger door for her. Taking his gloved hand, Remy let him assist her out of the car, then turned and waited, watching as Cole slipped back into his sport jacket, its rich herringbone wool skillfully concealing the strong build of his upper body. Idly she studied the solid, angular bones of his face, covered by skin that was deeply tanned and without a wrinkle.
    With an odd certainty she knew that nepotism had nothing to do with his position as president of the family shipping business. It was his competence, his aggressiveness, his ability to lead and command that had gained him the office. Suddenly, without any effort at all, she could picture him on the wharves in his shirt sleeves, moving among the longshoremen, as tough and strong as they were. And just as easily she could see him in command of a board meeting, respected—however grudgingly—for his canny business skills. Grudgingly —why had she thought that?
    But she didn't have an opportunity to analyze that very definite impression as she found herself now standing face-to-face with him, the rock gray of his gaze boring into her as if searching for something. For an instant the air seemed to crackle around them, charged by a tension that flashed between them. She held herself still, wondering what he was thinking. What did he want?
    The whole sensation vanished as if it had never been when he said, "Shall we go in?"
    "Of course." She swung sharply about and crossed to the hotel's entrance, conscious of his long-reaching stride easily keeping pace with hers.
    Once they were inside, her glance swept the hotel's magnificent interior. The Hotel Negresco was typical of the many palatial hotels scattered along the Côte d'Azur, but it had a style and gloss that was all its own. It was officially listed as a historic monument, though Remy suspected that it could more accurately be called a monument to excessive consumption. Used as a hospital during World War II, it had been restored with an