Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 78825 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78825 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
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.