The Emperor - Chapter 2
THE EMPEROR - CHAPTER 2
Aliénor
The guest bedroom was an extravagant primary suite. Parisian in every way, from the furniture to the wallpaper and the artwork, it screamed luxury in the sexiest whisper. I had large windows that showed breathtaking views of the city below and the adjacent buildings. It smelled like a garden when there wasn’t a plant or flower in sight.
I knew nothing about Luca, but I knew I was untouchable here.
Even if those assholes did follow me, they wouldn’t cross the threshold.
And if they tried, Luca would smile.
The butler served me breakfast at the door like room service, entering with a rollaway cart that had a small vase of roses that looked like they’d just been cut from the garden. A drop of dew was even on one of the petals. When he removed the steel lids over the dishes, he revealed an elaborate meal of eggs smothered in Gruyère cheese tucked into a crepe along with a side of French toast and bacon and a bowl of strawberries and blueberries so pristine they looked as if they had been hand-painted by Michelangelo. There was a pot of coffee and a side of cream as well.
I’d been shot at last night, and now I felt like I was on vacation. “May I speak with Luca, please?” I didn’t have his number, and while his bedroom was down the hall from mine, I wouldn’t dare rekindle his anger.
The butler stared at me like he didn’t understand what I said.
“He just expected not to see or talk to me at all?”
He returned the lids to the plates on the cart then left my bedroom without entertaining either of my questions.
“Well, that was rude.” But no amount of coldness could chase away my appetite at the sight of this feast. It was the prettiest meal I’d ever set eyes on—even more beautiful than Christmas dinner.
I ate alone, savoring the gourmet food prepared by a chef and forgetting my troubles for a while. I’d have to abandon my apartment and all my belongings because it was unsafe to return there, and now I’d have to start my life over again. New name, new paperwork, new job…everything.
Leaving Paris would be the smart move, but I loved this city too damn much to flee it. I was too stubborn to abandon my first love, the only city in the world that actually loved me back. The worst things had happened here…but the best things had happened too.
The door opened without a knock, and Luca appeared in nothing but black shorts and running shoes. Completely shirtless and bare-chested with a sheen of sweat across his beautiful skin, he looked at me with that same piercing stare.
I stilled at the sight of him and forgot how to speak again.
He stared at me as if he’d asked me a question, and the longer I didn’t answer him, the more irritated he became.
“I—I wasn’t expecting you to just walk in here.”
“In my own house? You called for me.”
I tried not to snap back because beggars couldn’t be choosers, but snapping back was pretty much my entire personality. “I meant right this second. Jesus, you help me but then jump down my throat.”
His eyes remained vicious. “You have my attention, and you’re wasting it.”
“Can we talk?”
“What the fuck are we doing?” he snapped.
“I mean like civilized people. Stop yelling at me.”
Oddly enough, his anger dimmed slightly.
“You can take a shower first.” I tried not to stare at anything but his eyes. Tried not to inspect the hardness I’d noticed when he was clothed. He was covered in sweat like he’d just run for five miles, but I suspected he’d been lifting in a private gym. Bars and dumbbells…and probably some cars.
To my surprise, he entered and dropped down into the seat across from me. He had wireless headphones in his ears, but he took them out and tucked them into his pocket. He crossed his thick arms over his chest and stared.
It took all my strength to look at only his eyes.
Not the popping veins in his arms. The biceps that rivaled the size of my head. The shoulders that were large like mountains. The hard pecs that looked like slabs of concrete that held up the bridges over the Seine.
He stared, eyes bright with both intelligence and annoyance.
My god, this man was beautiful. But fuck, he was ornery like a stallion that refused to wear a saddle.
I was used to receiving attention and looks from men when I was out and about. At restaurants and bars. When I was at work. If I wanted to get laid, it wasn’t a struggle to find someone to share a passionate night with. But Luca stared at me like he wasn’t the least bit impressed. Like I was one of many. A name not worth remembering. Like the women he bedded were far superior to anything I had to offer.
I was definitely attracted to him, but he clearly wasn’t attracted to me.
It stung…a little.
His impatience shattered the silence. “What do you want from me, Eleanor?”
“Aliénor. It’s pronounced with an a?—”
“Get on with it.”
Asshole . “First, I want to thank you for helping me last night. I’d probably be dead if you hadn’t been there.”
“Not probably.”
Did he talk to everyone like this? “Well…thank you.” It shouldn’t be so hard to show gratitude to my savior, but it was like pulling my own teeth out. Shoving bamboo under my damn fingernails.
He hadn’t moved. Hadn’t blinked. Just stared with silent hostility. “Is that it?”
“I said thank you, and that’s your reaction?”
“I didn’t save you to hear your gratitude. If you want to show your appreciation, there are better ways to do it.”
“Like what?” I snapped. “Because as far as I can tell, you’re made of stone.”
He continued that intense, unblinking stare, still as the statue I accused him of being.
I waited for an answer because I couldn’t read this man if the words were written on his forehead.
“Like what?” I repeated.
He tilted his head the other way, the only movement he’d made during this interaction. “A blow job would be nice.”
My eyebrows rose at the request.
Okay…maybe he was attracted to me.
“So, that’s why you saved me? To demand sex from me?”
“I’ve demanded nothing from you,” he said calmly. “You sat me down so you could thank me, and I’m just suggesting a better way to show your appreciation than taking up my time like this. It’s not an obligation, just like a tip at a restaurant is not obligatory but very much appreciated.”
My eyes shifted away as I scoffed at his forwardness. “Wow.”
He showed no disappointment at my dismissal, like he really didn’t care whether I submitted or not. He didn’t seem to care about anything. “If there’s nothing else, I have a long day ahead of me.”
“I want to know who you are.”
“What does it matter?”
“Because I want to know who I’m dealing with.”
“I told you I don’t hurt your kind.”
“Just ask for blow jobs.”
He didn’t grin, but I spotted a hint of it in the corners of his mouth. A shadow of a smile. “You’ve already gauged what you need to know. Whoever you’re afraid of is afraid of me. You have three days, now two, to plan your next move. Don’t waste that precious time interrogating me.”
“It wasn’t an interrogation.”
He relaxed his arms at his sides and revealed his full chest, the top of his hard abs. The sweat that had covered him minutes ago had already mostly evaporated. “I can give you money if you need it. Identification, paperwork, whatever.”
“And you offer that to me freely?”
“Yes.”
He was almost unbearable to talk to, but then he did something uncharacteristically kind. “And you don’t expect a tip?”
This time, he smirked—and it made him that much more handsome. “No. But it would be appreciated.”
I didn’t have a plan right now. The life I’d rebuilt had been demolished in a single moment. The sentimental belongings I still had were locked up in storage because I was too afraid to keep them at my apartment. I was glad I’d had the foresight to prepare for this moment. All my clothes and possessions were now gone. The only things I had were the clothes on my back and the purse that had been on my arm. “I don’t want to accept more of your help after what you’ve already done for me, but I’m desperate.”
His smile was just a memory, and his eyes showed a shadow of empathy. “Consider it done.”
Luca delivered on his promise, and his butler delivered all the paperwork and cash to my bedroom. A passport, ID, even a driver’s license, even though I’d never driven a day in my life. And there was a stack of cash, at least thirty thousand euro, way more than I needed.
But I also had nothing, so I took it.
I looked at apartments online and picked a different arrondissement this time. Two million people lived in this city, and with the influx of tourists all year-round, that easily added several hundred thousand people roaming the streets. Finding someone was like finding a needle in a haystack—if you didn’t know where to look.
I picked the 18th arrondissement because it was the least safe. Lots of people around on the streets all hours of the night, people coming and going, not the ideal place for a single woman on her own. They would look for me again, and that was probably the least likely place they would search.
I found a furnished apartment this time because I knew I shouldn’t get attached to any physical possessions. Maybe they would find me again in a week and I’d be off once more. A traveling tourist in my own fucking city.
When the third day came, and I had my affairs in order, I knew it was time to leave. Leave this private hotel with the beautiful flowers and the sexiest asshole who ever lived. Leave the gourmet food that was delivered straight to my door like I’d ordered room service while on a fancy vacation. Leave the protection of the iron gates and the armed men outside—and the man who feared no one.
I hadn’t visited the rest of the house, just stuck to my bedroom during my occupancy. When I didn’t call for Luca, he didn’t come to me, so I didn’t see him again. I left my bedroom and took the stairs down to the very bottom where the entrance had been.
The butler was there, as if he’d heard my footsteps from the floors above. “Are you leaving residence?”
“Um, yeah.” Unfortunately. These three days had been a silence in my racing mind, a gentleness in my pained heart. It was nice to have peace, just for a moment, not to look over my shoulder or sleep with one eye open.
It’d been a long time since I’d felt that way.
“Could I speak to Luca before I go?”
Both front doors opened, and he stepped inside like he’d just gotten home. He was in a long-sleeved black shirt, dark jeans, and boots, similar to the way he’d been dressed the first night I saw him. He had an air of command to his presence but also potent, don’t-give-a-fuck vibes. He turned his hard gaze on me, and I noticed when his eyes settled on my face, they weren’t as annoyed as they’d been in our previous interactions.
His stare seemed to be his words because he didn’t speak.
“I was just leaving.”
He gave a slight nod.
The butler silently excused himself and stepped through the double doors of another part of the house, maybe the kitchen or the drawing room. I had no idea because I’d only visited a minuscule part of the grand home.
“Thank you for everything.”
“Take care.” He never asked about the night we met. Never asked why a gunman was trying to hunt me down. Either he didn’t care or he respected my privacy. I wasn’t sure which it was.
“I hate to ask for anything else, but…I don’t know how else to get it.”
His eyes looked tired, like he’d been out all night and the day before, but they still had the sharpness of a sushi knife. They narrowed slightly as his attention on my face deepened.
“Can I have a gun?” I’d bought one before, but I’d also been scammed before, and I needed something I could count on.
Without hesitation, he lifted up his shirt and reached for the back of his jeans, showing a glimpse of his hard stomach before he handed me the gun by the barrel.
“I don’t have to take yours.”
“I’m not sentimental.”
I took the gun, the metal warm from being pressed against his skin.
“Know how to use it?”
“Yeah.” I checked the safety before I placed it in my purse. “Thank you. For everything. Seriously…” Anyone I’d been close to was dead, and anyone else who had been in my life was off-limits. The second I visited them, they would become targets. I’d been on my own for years, lonely in existence, the city my only companion.
“Need a ride?”
“No, I’m fine.” I wouldn’t ask him for anything else.
He pulled out his phone. “What’s your number?”
I hesitated before I said it out loud.
He typed it into his phone then hit the call button. A vibration was distinct in my purse as the call went through. Then he quickly hung up and shoved his phone into his back pocket. “Call if you get into a jam.”
That was surprisingly nice. He was cold as ice, but he’d given me enough money to survive without employment for a year and given me his own gun. He’d given me a place to stay when I was a stranger. “I’m sorry I called you an asshole.”
After a pause, a slow smirk grew over his lips. “Never apologize for being right. Always double down.”
I felt an inexplicable attachment to him, a sadness at our parting. Or maybe I just didn’t want to leave the safety he provided, the way his world reminded me of mine…before it was taken away.
I felt a surge of nerves when I looked at him, seeing a man I would have pursued across the bar on a late night. A night that would have ended in fireworks, followed by a morning masked in a dreary fog. I would never see him again, so I went for it.
I moved in and gave him an instant to react, a pause in case my advance wasn’t reciprocated.
But it was definitely reciprocated because he smiled.
A full-on smile, a sunrise to his twilight, an antidote to his seriousness.
I closed the distance to plant a quick and simple kiss on his lips, just a touch of our mouths, affectionate rather than sexy.
But his hand quickly cupped the back of my neck, and he turned a simmer to a boil the second the pot was on the stove. I initiated the kiss, but he took over like a pirate that commandeered another’s ship. He tilted my head back where he wanted it and felt my lips with his, searing my mouth with his mark, a kiss so hot that it sizzled with smoke. He felt my bottom lip between his before he turned his head and kissed me again, this time with tongue, like I was his long-term lover rather than some woman he barely knew. Like I was the love of his life, the wife he came home to, the woman he vowed to love forever.
I pulled away first, taken aback by the intensity and the way it affected me so deeply. I’d intended to kiss him, turn on my heel, and strut out of there, but I was frozen in place for a moment, locked in the dark eyes that reminded me of the fresh coffee I had every morning.
He smirked again slightly. “Thanks for the tip.”