36. Chapter 36
Chapter 36
Duncan
V incent took his time to take care of things . I was not involved because he wanted it that way. I wasn't part of his organization, and I was fine with that.
But while we sat for dinner in Elsa's apartment with Dean, Thierry, Angelique, and my thirty-two-week pregnant wife, I got the text message. It simply said: It's done .
I sighed in relief.
"What?" Elsa asked.
I shook my head and kissed her nose. "Later," I whispered.
Thierry's phone buzzed right after. He read the message, and his eyes found mine. He lifted his chin toward me, and I nodded in acknowledgment. I had told Thierry about my meeting with Vincent to assure him that the Pascal Fournier problem would be solved.
"You've got to get back to work," Dean complained. "I've got to return to Hong Kong. We have two auctions planned back-to-back. Damian is going to kick your ass if you don't pick up the slack here."
"Yes." I put an arm around my wife. "I can do that."
Elsa looked at me cautiously and I brushed my lips close to her ear, "I'll tell you later, I promise."
A week ago, we decided to look for a bigger place in the Marais so Elsa could be close to the bakery. It meant I had to deal with Paris traffic or the Metro, but I preferred to be inconvenienced over my wife.
She'd fought me on it; of course, she had.
"I like my apartment. I don't like yours," she immediately said when I mentioned that we'd need more room once the baby arrived. Her apartment had one bedroom, so there was no space for a nursery.
"Where do you want to put the baby?" I asked calmly.
"We'll figure it out," she shrugged.
"Elsa, ma douce , come on. I'll get rid of my apartment. Okay? Now, let's find a place for us. Can we do that?"
"I don't want to live in some fancy arrondissement. I want to be close to Délices d'Elsa."
"Deal."
When we looked at a few places online, she complained about how much they cost. For a woman who was married to a man with more money than he'd need in several lifetimes, Elsa was cagey as fuck when it came to spending money. She reminded me a little of Emilia, who was stingy as hell. A few months ago, while I was in Las Vegas, she managed to manipulate me into paying for a sex-filled weekend for her and Damian at the Bellagio. I didn't mind. I loved how Emilia was down to earth, as was Elsa. And I could afford it. Now, if only I could convince my wife about that.
We'd get there, though it would take a little time.
I had found the perfect home for us. Close to Place des Vosges, it was just a fifteen-minute walk from the bakery. In addition to five bedrooms and six baths, it had a gym, sauna, and a heated swimming pool in the basement. But what I knew Elsa would love was the gorgeous kitchen and front garden. Okay, so it wasn't exactly a house but a mansion and she'd freak when she saw it. I'd have to convince her slowly. But I was getting to know my wife well and was starting to find my way around her.
"You sure?" Dean asked, looking at Elsa.
I smiled. "Yeah, I'm sure. I'll get back into the office this coming Monday. When are you flying to Hong Kong?"
Elsa nodded, speculating about where my head was at. I hadn't told her that I'd contacted Vincent, and she'd never asked. I didn't want her to lower her guard or fight me on security until the threat was removed. Now, I could tell her. Now, I could breathe without worrying about her and our baby all the time.
"Monday night," Dean said absently. "Have you heard from Dom?"
"Yeah." I stroked Elsa's shoulder. "He came by Délices d'Elsa yesterday."
Dom was feeling better and had come to apologize again to Elsa, who'd told him there was nothing to forgive. He'd saved her life, and in fact, she owed him. Dom told me I was a lucky son of a bitch, and then left, saying he was going to be out of the country for a while.
"You working with him?" I asked when Dean didn't say anything.
Dean looked at Angelique and Thierry and gave me a warning look.
"Thierry already knows everything, and Angelique doesn't give a fuck," I retorted.
Angelique nodded. "It's true." She picked up her glass of wine. "You can talk about whatever."
Dean sighed. "Yes, I'm working with Dom."
"Can you tell me about what?" I asked carefully.
"No."
I didn't push him. I knew how things were when you worked with Dom.
"You need support; you call me," Thierry offered.
"Yeah?" Dean looked at him speculatively.
"You know, he's more than a baker, right?" Elsa leaned into me. "He just works part-time for me to take care of me."
Thierry smirked. "I've been doing it for years, Els and I will keep doing it. You know that."
"I have Lisette now," Elsa looked at Thierry tenderly. "And, I have an overprotective husband. If you need to just be my friend and not my assistant baker, that's fine, Thierry."
Her friend waved a hand. "We'll see how things go. For now, nothing is changing unless you need help, Dean."
"You have any contacts in the Ivory Coast?”
I grew concerned. C?te d'Ivoire had recently been in the news with regards to some stolen antiques. It was not a coincidence.
"Maybe." Thierry raised his glass and toasted Dean.
"Let's talk later," my brother murmured, his head obviously somewhere else.
I worried about him, but he was a grown man, and I knew I had to let him find his own way. As the oldest sibling, I'd always been there for my brothers—even though Damian, the CEO of Archer Arts & Antiquities, was technically my boss. Despite this, I still felt it was my responsibility to look after Damian and Dean.
As if she could read my mind, Elsa squeezed my hand.
"He's going to be fine," she whispered.
"Yeah?"
Once Damian had told me that Emilia calmed his mind, made him laugh, eased him. I’d assumed Emilia was mixing drugs in his coffee because Damian, who was the biggest asshole in business, had indeed loosened up. But now, I understood. I used to be a workaholic. Now, I seemed to have time to have a life—and I hadn't thought twice about abandoning work to sit in a bakery with Elsa.
She had a calming effect on me. She could tell I was worried about Dean, and understanding he was involved in something dangerous with Dom, she offered her support, helping to share my burden.
After our guests left and I ordered Elsa to take a shower while I cleaned up the kitchen.
Damn, I couldn't wait to move to a new place, one that had a fucking dishwasher at least.
Luckily, because Elsa had been tired all day, she'd not complained that I ordered food from a restaurant nearby to feed all of us tonight, not allowing her to cook. Still, there were plates, silverware, fucking wine glasses to wash.
No one would believe Duncan Fucking Archer was doing dishes and wiping them down because his wife hated water stains. And I would do it again and again and again so my wife wouldn't have to because as much as she loved to cook, I knew she didn't like to clean.
I marveled at how much my life had changed for the better.
After I finished cleaning up, I found that Elsa was still in the bathroom as the shower was running, so I called Vincent.
"I told you it was done," he cryptically greeted.
"My phone is secure, and I know yours is as well," I snapped. "I'd like some details."
"Pascal Fournier has been arrested by Interpol in Berlin. He will not be coming back to France. His partner in crime miraculously was allowed to leave Germany due to his good fortune of there not being enough evidence to arrest him."
"But you have the evidence," I remarked.
"Yes." Vincent sounded pleased with himself. "Jean-Luc was persuaded to retire from his business in exchange. He will announce it tomorrow to his people."
"And you'll be crowned the new…ah…leader of his band of thieves and criminals?"
Vincent laughed. "No. That's now how this works. I’ll have to kill a few people who will think they can fill Jean-Luc's shoes. I'm free this weekend, so we should get this settled by next week."
“I’m sure,” I chuckled and then sobered, “Thank you, Vincent."
"Don't thank me. You owe me now and I will collect on the favor. I can't promise that it will be easy to grant me what I ask for," he warned.
"I wouldn't expect anything less from you."
Elsa was in bed by the time I finished talking to Vincent, putting moisturizer on her arms and legs as she did every night. The bedroom smelled like patchouli and lavender, and I loved that scent on her. In fact, my dick had started to have a Pavlovian response to her perfumed lotion.
She lifted her tank top and started to spread the lotion on her belly.
Fuck! Now, that was sexy as hell.
"Get ready for bed, and first tell me what's going on, and then we can do what you're—"
I grabbed the lotion, putting it away before I pushed her on her back. I pulled down her sleep shorts, and my mouth watered.
"Duncan, we have to talk and—" She gasped when I put my mouth on her pussy, shoved my tongue inside her.
She arched her back. " Oui ."
I pushed a finger inside her, suckling her clit. I could feel her thighs shaking. I placed a hand on her stomach and felt it tighten. I loved how her pregnant body responded to me. I'd never thought making love to a woman swollen with child could be this erotic, this sensuous.
"Duncan , s'il te plait ." Please.
I sucked harder and added another finger inside her, tilted them so I could rub against her G-spot. That's all it took. She screamed her orgasm.
"On your knees." I couldn't wait for her to calm down. I wanted inside her to feel her cunt pulse around my dick.
A woman with a large stomach wasn't supposed to be graceful, but my wife was. I looked at her, offering herself to me on all fours. I groaned as I cupped her ass cheeks and spread them.
"You're so fucking beautiful down here." Her brown skin, pink puckered asshole, wet juicy pussy, it was all too much.
I pulled at my clothes, getting naked at record speed while I hungrily watched her pussy glisten with her release. "You're going to have to come again, baby," I warned her. "I want to feel you squeeze me."
" Oui ," she murmured.
I entered her, and everything quietened. The conversation with Vincent, the worry over what Dean was up to, my fear for Elsa during childbirth, everything went silent, and all I felt and smelled was her . My wife .
"I love you." I began to pump in and out of her, keeping my pace slow, enjoying her moans, the feeling of her clamping down around me.
" Je t'aime, mon mari ." I love you, my husband.
Her words spurred me on. She had recently started telling me she loved me all the time, and I felt like a fucking king every time she did. It was hard won, her love, and it was the most precious thing in my life.
I played with her clit, tweaking it between my thumb and forefinger. Her mewls became louder, and I relished how easy and wonderful it was to be with Elsa. How satisfying before, during, and after sex was with her. It had never been like this. Freeing.
I'd avoided relationships because I didn't want to give up my freedom without realizing that being with the woman I loved was the most fucking liberating thing in the world.
"Elsa, fuck, fuck, fuck." I pounded into her as my release began deep in my spine and raced through me. Her release mixed with mine, and the whole world, I was certain, went up in flames as we came together.