Because We Belong (Because You Are Mine #3)(82)

She hadn’t brought her cell phone with her into the library, and she’d never regretted a decision more. She sat next to Mrs. Hanson at the oak dining table, her hand in the older woman’s. It was the worst time she’d ever spent, not knowing what was happening above them. Where was Ian? What was he doing? What about Elise, Anne, James, and Gerard? It was unbearable, wondering. She caught Lucien’s stare, noticing how anxious and tense he appeared. He stared and took his cell phone out of his pocket, examining the screen. He exhaled in relief.

“Elise?” Francesca called to him, interpreting his expression.

“Yes,” Lucien replied, tapping out a quick message on the phone. “She’s fine.”

Compassion for him went through her. He, too, had been waiting on pins and needles for news of Elise. She realized fully for the first time that he wouldn’t be standing there at all if he hadn’t given Ian his promise he’d look after her while Ian was at the press conference. If it weren’t for that pledge to his brother, Francesca was certain Lucien would be upstairs despite police orders, searching for his wife.

Question after question churned around inside her, every one like a scraping knife. In the end, it was probably only a minute or two before they got news, but to Francesca it felt like an eternity. She squeezed Mrs. Hanson’s hand extra hard, and Mrs. Hanson squeezed back, when Officer Inez’s cell phone burbled just outside the room.

“Yes?” Inez answered, his deep voice echoing from the corridor just a few feet outside the dining room. Francesca didn’t breathe in the pause that followed. “Yes, Ms. Arno is down here with us, along with Mr. Lenault. They’re fine. Everyone is waiting in the staff dining room. It’s all quiet down here.” Another pause. “Yes. I’ll tell them.”

The balding officer stuck his head into the servant’s dining room. “That was Markov. Mr. Noble wanted him to find out where you two were,” Inez said, glancing from Francesca to Lucien. “And he wanted everyone to know that the family is safe. No one was injured. It’s the intruder who was shot. He’s dead, apparently.”

“Who shot him?” Lucien asked from where he leaned against the sideboard, his casual pose belying a palpable tension in every line of his powerful body.

“It seems he came upon someone in the family when he broke in, and was taken by surprise. They didn’t give me any more details, but Markov said they’d want you to go up there in a moment,” Inez said, looking at Francesca. “They’re still trying to get all the reporters and camera crew off the premises.”

“They want me?” Francesca asked numbly.

“Yeah. They want you to identify the body, see if it’s the same guy who tried to run you off the road yesterday.”

A cold wave ran over her making her shudder. Mrs. Hanson put her arm around her and hugged her tight.

* * *

Francesca sprang up from her chair a while later when she heard Ian’s rough voice in the corridor, identifying himself to Officer Inez. He crossed the threshold of the staff dining room a second later, his face rigid with tension, his eyes blazing when he saw Francesca racing toward him. Her legs felt weak with relief at seeing him alive and well, looking so tall and solid and wonderful to her in his dark suit and an ice-blue tie. Her arms flew around his neck. He held her tight against him, his hands moving over her back, rubbing her almost frantically, as if he wanted to make sure her flesh was real. She, too, needed that reassurance, gripping his shoulders, inhaling his clean, spicy scent deeply, as if she wanted to absorb it and store it for a lifetime.

“Thank God you’re all right,” he said, his breath hitting her neck in warm, pressured puffs of air.

“Thank God you are,” she muttered feelingly. She backed up enough to look into his face, needing to see him. His dark brows were slanted as his blue-eyed gaze ran over her face. He seemed just as eager to soak in every detail of her. “When I heard that shot, all I could imagine was you in front of that crowd of people. I kept thinking—”

“Shhh, it’s okay. Everything’s going to be fine,” Ian said quietly, brushing back her hair with his hand and palming her skull.

“Ian,” Mrs. Hanson said weakly from just behind Francesca.

“Mrs. Hanson,” Ian broke free sufficiently to give Mrs. Hanson a hug. “We’re all okay,” he assured the older lady. He glanced around at the rest of the gathered staff’s pale, worried faces. “No one from the family or staff has been hurt. The police are evacuating the press and securing the area.”

“Lucien.”

Ian, Francesca, and Mrs. Hanson started and looked around at the sound of Elise’s anxious cry. Officer Inez was obviously not as familiar with Elise’s appearance as he was Ian’s. He was holding her in the corridor, and having more than a little difficulty doing so despite the fact that he had about hundred pounds on Elise.

“It’s all right,” Lucien said sharply, striding out of the room toward her. “That’s my wife!”

Another wave of relief went through her at seeing Lucien lift Elise into his arms. Francesca caught a glimpse of her friend over Lucien’s shoulder, her eyelids closed tight, an intense, grateful expression on her beautiful face. She knew precisely how Elise felt.

“Everyone is really all right?” Francesca whispered to Ian shakily, needing confirmation of Officer Inez’s report “Anne? James? Gerard?”