Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
Fabien
It’s almost too perfect. She never suspected I’d followed her to the shop, that I stalked her every step and made it seem coincidental.
She hasn’t been to her room to see the flowers yet and tomorrow when she does, she’ll know I hadn’t planned on meeting up with her.
It was all too easy to slip into the bookstore unseen, take my place in the coffee shop with my back to her, and suggest to the proprietor he gently guide her my way.
If I came waving money or my proposition, she might run, especially after what happened to her earlier.
Maybe. Time will tell.
It was too easy to buy a book she’d recognize and engage her in conversation. Walk her back to La Maison, and when she suggested a call to Gwen, having Louis block Gwen’s phone so she wouldn’t see it.
The rest of the evening, I’ll be nothing but a gentleman.
I haven’t offered to buy her yet. I want to make sure when I do, she can’t deny me.
In the bookstore, I realized she’s more enchanting than I imagined.
Her eyes light up when she talks, she gestures wildly with her hands about all that matters to her.
Stereotypes abound when it comes to girls in her line of work, the most common being that they’re all bold and brassy.
If Nicolette is, she certainly isn’t around me.
She stammers and blushes, as if her high school crush is paying her the time of day. It’s adorable.
I send for a few things from her room and bring her to mine, the penthouse on the top floor overlooking the city.
“Oh my goodness,” she whispers in a hushed breath when we get to my room. “The view.” From here, we can see the darkened mountaintops of Sartène illuminated by the full moon. The view from here, especially from the balcony, is spectacular.
“I love a good view,” I tell her as I kick off my shoes. “It’s…”
“Inspiring,” she finishes.
My heart thumps. “It is.”
Nicolette yawns widely, like she’s up past her bedtime. I want to tuck her into bed and pull the covers up under her chin.
“Alright, let’s get you to bed,” I tell her. I’m showing her to the bedroom when a sudden realization hits me. I left everything on the desk—printouts from my phone so I could look over her bank accounts, logins, her biography. If she sees those—
“Let me go first,” I say, stepping ahead of her. “I’m sure it’s safe here, but I’ll do a sweep so you know for sure.”
It isn’t just for her.
I quickly enter the room.
With a quick brush of my hand, I move all the papers into the top drawer of my desk and quickly shut it. It locks and won’t open without a key. I make a pretense of looking under the desk, in the closet, and in the shower.
“All clear.”
“Perfect,” she says on a yawn. “Thank you.”
I make sure she has everything she needs before I retreat to the pullout couch in the living room outside the bedroom.
“If you hear anything, call my name,” I tell her. “Even if you wake up and you’re afraid, don’t hesitate. I mean it. I brought you here for a reason, and I don’t want you to be afraid while you’re here.”
I can hardly get past the sight of her sitting on the edge of my bed, her gorgeous body coiled as tight as a spring. I wish I could touch her, wish I could ease her fear and make her relax, but I won’t cross that line. Not yet.
I’m not a patient man, and this has never been my method. I take what I want when I want it. But I know how to assume a persona. I know how to lead others to trust me.
“Towels in the bathroom.” I point to the en suite. “You should find everything you need.”
“Fabien,” she says softly. “Thank you. You’ve gone above and beyond, you truly have.”
If she had any idea…
“It’s not a problem. Sleep well, Nicolette.”
I imagine stroking her gleaming chestnut hair. I imagine touching her satiny skin and laying her back on the bed. I imagine kissing every inch of her until she’s panting for me. I’d spread her legs and taste her, relish the feel and taste of her climax on my tongue.
I strip to my boxers and arrange the pullout sofa. I ignore my body’s insistence that I need hot, unadulterated, dirty sex, and I need it now. I could have any woman I want here, but I don’t want any of them. I want her.
It takes effort to ignore my relentless need for her. I stomp to the guest bathroom, impatient to move this along, and get ready for bed.
When I slide under the covers, I pull out my phone and flick on the surveillance camera I had installed over my bed before we arrived. I sigh in relief. There she is.
Nicolette’s tucked under my covers with the duvet pulled up to her chin. Her tousled hair graces my pillow. She isn’t sleeping though, not yet, her eyes wide and staring into the distance.
Is she afraid?
I want to hold her. Comfort her. Assure her she won’t be hurt, not by me.
I text Thayer.
Me:
Anything?
Thayer:
Was just about to text you. Uncovered a message from Lyam. Says he’s fine, but to do what they say. Will you be able to get into The Underground? You know it’s hard to get in there.
I look back at the surveillance footage.
Me:
I’ll get in there.
My brother Lyam can hold his own. Whoever took him knows that if they hurt him, there will be hell to pay. Bloodshed. They’re holding him to get what they want.
They think I’m a man who can be bargained with and bribed.
Tomorrow, I’ll get whatever information I can from Jean-Pierre.
Tomorrow, I’ll find a way to make Nicolette an offer she can’t refuse.
I awake early the next morning and shake off the memory of my dreams featuring every single imagined fantasy I had the night before involving Nicolette.
I pad to the kitchen and start the coffee when the door to my bedroom creaks open.
“Good morn—oh.”
I turn to see Nicolette in the doorway, wrapped in a thin ivory robe that hits just above her knees.
I’m standing in the kitchenette barefoot and bare-chested. I didn’t expect she’d be up so soon.
Early bird, then.
“Sorry about that.” My voice is all groggy with sleep as I walk to the living room and turn my back so she doesn’t see the damn erection I woke with. I grab my tee and jeans and quickly tug them on.
“It’s your home,” she says, but when I turn back to her, she’s beet red.
“Yeah, but I didn’t mean to parade around half naked.”
Good lord, I love the way her cheeks flush. “Coffee?”
It’s now or never. I’ve given her a little time to settle in, and now I push to make this happen. If she denies me, we go on to plan B, but if she doesn’t…
“Yes, please. I love the way you make coffee here.”
“They say espresso puts hair on your chest.”
“Oh, God, I hope not.”
I give her a half smile. I already know she takes her coffee sweet, four sugars with cream, but she can’t know I know that.
“How do you take your coffee?”
“Four sugars with cream.”
I pour her a cup and fix it for her, then pour myself a cup. “Nicolette, this is awkward, but I have a question for you,” I say, hoping she buys my sheepish tone.
“Oh?” She’s sitting at the small kitchenette table, sipping her coffee. “What’s that?”
“You said you like Paris,” I begin. “You see…” I push the helpless look harder. “I’m in a bit of trouble.”
Her coffee cup settles on the table with a click. “Are you?”
“Yes. I promised my mother I’d have a date for my cousin’s wedding this weekend.” I sigh and hope it adds to the whole vibe. “It means a lot to her that my brothers and I show with dates.” I roll my eyes. “Don’t ask.”
Sounds a lot more innocent and “boy next door” than I’m buying you for the weekend to go to The Underground. You will be my slave and I will be your master.
We’ll go to Paris for the wedding. Convince Milo to give us what we need. Return to Corsica and orchestrate my plan.
“Do you mean to tell me,” she says, a hint of flirtation in her voice, “that a man like you can’t find someone to bring? I’d have thought you’d have—” She pauses and looks away. “Okay, that didn’t come out the right way.”
“A man like me?”
“Well, yes. I mean look at you. You’re wealthy and successful, and you look like that? I mean, don’t take it the wrong way…”
“How could anyone take something like that the wrong way?”
She laughs and sips her coffee, her eyes cast down.
“So I was wondering. You’re here at La Maison, for a reason. Ninety-nine percent of the time, the women who work for me are looking to earn some money for a purpose. If you don’t mind me asking, would you fall under that umbrella?”
“No, I quite like the lack of commitment and casual sex,” she quips with an eye roll. Ah, so a good night’s sleep brings out the real Nicolette. Good to know. She shows no sign of not wanting to talk about this, so I push. I have to, if I’m going to get what I want.
“If it’s not too personal, may I ask how much you’re aiming to earn? Save?”
“It’s not too personal. I’m aiming for one hundred thousand euro.”
To take care of her and her sister. She has twenty, which means she’s got a long way to go.
“That’s a sizable sum. What would you say if we come up with a win-win situation?”
She clears her throat. “What would that entail?”
“I buy you for the entire weekend. You come with me to Paris for my cousin’s wedding. Before any of this went down, I told Gwen to clear your calendar for the week.” I give her what I hope is a disarming smile.
“Buy me?” Something I can’t identify flares in her eyes.
“I had a date. She cancelled on me this morning. Now I face going to Paris alone, without a date, and my mother will literally disown me.”
A hint of a smile ghosts her lips. She’s holding back, hiding her emotions so well I can’t decipher what she’s thinking. “We can’t have that, now, can we?”
I shake my head. “I’ll pay you two million dollars.”
Her jaw unhinges.
I’ve begun the first part of the cat and mouse game with her. Protect her. Take care of her needs. Pretend I need her. Prey on her need to meet my needs after I’ve met hers. Lure her into close proximity…
Pounce.
I will own her.
“Doesn’t this… cross a line, sir?”