“By manipulating it and going behind my back to have me moved across an entire ocean to be exactly where you want me to be. Did you get Éléanor to hire me, too?”
The question shouldn’t surprise me. After Alyssia put two and two together about the apartment, I knew she would be smart enough to figure out that I had something to do with her getting her new position.
“They needed a market researcher. You needed a job.”
She makes a disgusted sound with her mouth and throws her hands up in the air. I guess this isn’t the right time to tell her that she doesn’thaveto work at any rate.
“What the hell is going through your mind?”
No, not the right time at all.
For the life of me, I can’t figure out what she’s worked up about. Wouldn’t most women appreciate living in a luxurious apartment and not having to work?
“No,” Alyssia says, making me realize I’d spoken out loud. “I’d venture to guess most women would like to have the opportunity tochoosewhat happens in their own lives. This woman would, anyway.” She presses her finger to her chest again.
The angry flashes in her eyes makes something tug in the pit of my stomach. A low rumbling at the center of me starts, reminding me of something dark and sexy as hell.
Like the moments before the start of a race when everything’s up in the air. When the winner remains undecided. That murky unknown is always what sparks my competitiveness.
Alyssia moves closer, and then presses her finger into my chest.
“I’ve spent the past eight years taking care of myself and that’s not about to change just because we’re having a kid together. Your money can’t buy me or my obedience.”
“Is that what you think is happening?” I step closer to her, not missing the way her eyes widen and her lips part the slightest amount. “That I’m trying to buy your obedience?”
“I don’t think. I know.” Her gaze drops to my mouth. But she doesn’t allow it to linger there when she takes a step back.
The air between us cools off just a touch.
I don’t like it.
“But neither one are for sale.”
“So what? You’re going to quit your new job and move back to New York?” I ask, but I’ll never let that happen.
“No,” she says. “I’m keeping the job and I’m going to do a damn good job at it so they know they didn’t make a mistake. But …” She trails off. “I’m finding my own apartment. I have two appointments that I should be leaving for now, actually.”
“Great. I’m coming with you.” If she thinks I’m about to let her get of my sight for too long, she’s got another thing coming.
I glanceat my ringing phone and send Norm to voicemail. Whatever he wants can wait.
“And I assume this building doesn’t have twenty-four-hour security,” I say to the fifty-something year old woman who owns this flat.
Though I keep my gaze on the woman, I feel Alyssia’s eyes shooting daggers into my skull. This is the fourth question I’ve asked the landlord since we’ve entered this two-bedroom, second floor apartment in the middle of one of Nice’s more popular neighborhoods.
The two apartments that Alyssia lined up to visit were outside of Monaco, in France, no less. I have to give it to her, it made sense if she was determined to pay for an apartment on her own, outside of Monaco is the more budget-friendly option.
“Travis,” she says, not even bothering to hide her irritation.
“Safety is important, is it not?” I ask her.
She rolls her eyes skyward. “This is one of the safest neighborhoods in the city,” she reminds me. “I told you that when we first arrived.”
“I’d like to hear it from Inés.” I turn to the owner. “Is that true?”
“Oh yes, very true,” she agrees eagerly.
My frown deepens. I’m certain she’d say anything to get a tenant in this place. Not that the apartment is bad or anything. With two bedrooms, shiny hardwood floors, and a decent amount of sunlight in both the living and master bedrooms, it’s not exactly a dump.
